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minjix · 2 years

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omegle.com → Vinnie Hacker x reader

summary: in which a blonde boy with messy hair and tattoos makes you smile.

a/n: so badly written omg :(

warnings: penises are mentioned which basically is omegles trademark lol, + the usual swearing

masterlist

You sighed as the screen turned gray once more after being swore at by a group of teenage girls. You came onto the notorious sight purely out of boredom and a sense of twisted curiosity hoping to have a good chat with a decent human being, but so far you’ve been unsuccessful.

You’ve been called every word under the sun and you could feel your patience wearing thin.

Just as you were about to click off the godforsaken site, a boy appeared in the box under yours.

He was beautiful. His hair, blonde and messy, and his eyes a dark brown, almost appearing black in his lighting.

You both stared wide eyed at each other.

“Hi?” You whispered, you mouth going dry.

He smiled and you swore that you died on the spot.

“Hey.” He chuckled and you found yourself embarrassed when you compared his voice to dark chocolate. He continued and you could only stare, mesmerized by him. “I’m Vinnie.”

“The pooh?” If you could punch yourself, you would. Your eyes turned wide as you started to apologize but his laughter made you stop.

“Yeah, Vinnie the pooh,” He shook his head, his hair swaying from the movement. “that’s a good one,”

“I spell my name with a simple V.” He gave you a heart stopping smile, “what’s your name?” He asked with a glint in his eyes. He relaxed into his seat, waiting for you to speak.

“Y/n, I’m Y/n.” You struggled to speak, his eyes were intense even through the screen.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you.” His smile was still very much present and you found yourself growing more relaxed, giving him a smile back.

Yeah, you liked this conversation.

“So how come you’re on here?” He found himself asking, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Oh!” You looked sheepishly at him, “just wanted someone to talk to,” you began. “You’re the longest conversation I’ve had so far.”

He chuckled again, “well I’m honored, Y/n.”

god, how could someone be so fucking handsome and nice at the same time?

“It’s an honor to meet you too Vinnie,” your smile was still present but it faltered in shock when he raised his arm to run a hand through his hair. “So, how many penises have you seen so far?” He asked playfully, unaware of your gaze on his tattoos.

You snapped yourself out of it with a shy smile. “Too many to count, to be honest.” He shook his head with a sympathetic smile. “It’s been severed into my brain, I’m so glad my roommates haven’t walked in on me with a penis on my screen.” You laughed and nodded your head in agreement.

He sighed and stared straight into his camera. “So what do you do in your free time?” He genuinely wanted to know more.

“I work at a grocery store.” You couldn’t stop smiling. “And when I’m not working I’m at home, and you?”

He blushed, clearing his throat. “I do TikTok’s.” You raised your eyebrows and immediately grabbed your phone. “What’s your handle?”

“vhackerr.” He watched as your face was lit up by your screen, deep in focus as you searched his name.

“Holy shit! Dude, you have 15 million followers!” He laughed at your expression, a proud feeling blossoming in chest. “Yeah,” he bit his lip as your eyes focused on him again.

“Can I get your number?” He asked, feeling timid all of the sudden. You froze. “You don’t have to- I just really enjoy talking to you-“

“Yeah,” you interrupted, clearing you throat to get rid of the rasp. “You can have my number,”

The blonde boy threw his head backwards with a hoot, a grin plastered on his lips. “Thank you!” You laughed out loud and gave him your number.

“Is it cool if I call you instead?”

“Yeah, it’s cool.”

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie x you #vinnie x y/n #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker x reader #fluff #vinnie imagines

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arcielee · 2 years

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Where Is My Mind?

Summary: Modern!FemaleReader’s subconscious has ruined her pussy. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Word Count: 2579 Warnings: Smutty smut, masturbation, little bit of spanking, oral (fem receiving), p in v, language, drinking. Author's Note: I did not think I would do a part 2, but I really appreciated the feedback from my first reader insert attempt and loved all the kindred spirits I apparently have on this godforsaken social media platform. ♥ Also, thank you so much @f4ll-for-you for your time to read this over! Tags (kindred spirits): @narwhal-swimmingintheocean This is dedicated to @fan-goddess because you made a call out to something and I already had 1k with that in mind. Series: Call It Dreaming

It had been three agonizing weeks since that night-that dream?-in Westeros and peace no longer seemed to be an option for your pussy.

At first, after you woke up, hot, bothered, and naked on the couch, you were grateful your roommates utilized a Friday night in a way that your school and work schedule did not allow. You were quick to wrap yourself in the blanket and flee into your room.

You took a moment in your full-length mirror to survey yourself: the thin gash between your breasts was not bleeding, but still had a delicious sting to it, and you had no idea where your clothes were. It must have been some sort of fucked up sleep walking? You cringe at the thought, promising to never watch House of the Dragon outside the safety of your bedroom again.

It was a very sexy dream, you tell yourself, returning to your bed and collapsing back onto it. Your mind wanders back, remembering the warmth of his hands on your body, the ache between your thighs when he entered you, the sensations of his hard chest pressed against your body…

Your hand trails to your cunt, your fingers desperate to touch and tantalize yourself the way Aemond Targaryen had. Your brow furrows with your concentration, your breath quickens with your motion, and your orgasm comes but it is like the tepid stream of tap water and the faucet was twisted shut.

You almost cry. My subconscious has fucking ruined me.

The thought does not linger and you return to your busy schedule of classes from morning until the afternoon and then your internship that went well into the evening. It was self-inflicted, a last minute decision to throw yourself into a master’s program for historic preservation. Though the internship’s pay was pitiful, it was manageable, and you had peace with your work, taking pride in visiting sites, your documentation process and photography for your filework later.

It had been perfectly soothing until fucking recently and now every quiet moment led to intrusive thoughts of a specific, fictional, one-eyed prince.

You refused to be broken by your mind, after all you were a modern, independent woman with items purposefully purchased for whenever a situation called for a DIY orgasm. Your free time was on the weekends and you politely decline your roommates’ invitation to go out with the lie that your lady time has arrived. Only after they left could you truly cater to yourself and what you needed.

Candles are lit, fresh sheets, every toy out on the covers and you sprawl back on your bed, your hands careful to trace where his hands had been, the bruising grip of his large palms, allowing your mind to flutter back to the Red Keep…

…and much to your disappointment, you find that you are still unable to bring yourself the release you had felt that night.

This is fine, your subconscious has not ruined you, you think as you scroll through your phone to find blood and flesh, assuming that is what your body was craving.

You had an ex that was a suitable candidate; you dated briefly when you both finished your B.A. but found the next steps of both your academic careers required too much time. It was an amicable end and you still sent the occasional text.

These texts were unlike the polite ones sent before and he was quick to reply. A week later, you were wearing a fitted black dress with a ribbed texture and an apricot cardigan over it, and ankle boots. You walk to the small bar that is only a few blocks away from your apartment, leaving a bit early to request a spiced rum drink for some liquid courage.

Your ex finally arrives and he is still just as traditionally handsome in a House Stark sense-oh my goddess, leave that G.R.R.M. thought alone-with a big smile beneath his beard and exuding the same golden retriever kindness as before. The conversation is pleasant, catching up on each other’s life updates until the rum floods your brain and the insatiable ache between your thighs demands action.

You grab him and the two of you fall away into a corner of the bar, but the moment you taste his lips to your own, you knew no modern man would be able to soothe the consistent ache in your lower abdomen, to satiate the void that gnawed within you.

He notes your change in your demeanor and breaks away. “Hey, it’s cool if we just remain friends,” he offers with his token, genuine kindness, completely unaware of your internal warfare with your mind.

There is a moment you think to protest, but decide against it. “Yeah, thanks, sorry,” you reply with a defeatist sigh. “I have, just, really been off lately. I think it’s because of my lady time,” you renew your lie.

“Oh? I could just walk you home, if you want?” You shake your head, “It’s okay. I am a few blocks away. Thanks anyway.”

Your steps are determined and you make sure to stop at the mart on the way home, grabbing a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream and a cheap bottle of red dessert wine. In the solitude of your apartment, you grab two coffee mugs, one for ice cream and one for wine, making it easy to walk back to your room.

You throw off your cardigan and shoes, plopping onto your mattress, and fumble with the remote to turn on House of the Dragon, starting at episode eight.

My subconscious has ruined me, was your last thought, bringing a spoonful to your mouth.

And here you were, once again, standing in his same room and he, Aemond Targaryen, is seated in the same leather chair and facing the fireplace. The fire crackles loudly and gives a golden hue to the side profile of the prince. His posture is perfect, with one leg crossed on top of the other, his arm poised on the armrest and his thumb running the length of his fingertips and back again.

“You lied to me.”

Your eyes widen as he pushes from his seat and squares off to you; he is wearing leather trousers and a loose, white tunic with the sleeves rolled up to show his toned forearms decorated with silver hair. His tunic is not laced up and his hard chest peaks beneath, moving with his steady breaths.

Your heart pounds against your chest at the sight of him, your mind reviewing your last lucid dream of this perfect man who spoke so few words and you knew that you would not dare to lie to him, dream or not. You chew your bottom lip and allow your tongue to wet it, taking slow steps towards him, counting in-between each step to resist throwing yourself at his feet.

“What do you mean, my prince?” Your tone is controlled, but you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

He hummed and you swear you saw the hint of a smile touch his lips. “You said you were a whore that my brother had sent,” he continued, taking deliberate steps to close the space between you two.

Oh, that, you remember the exchange and were quick to say, “My prince,” lowering your lidded eyes. “I had only said that I had been sent for your pleasure,” your tone is coy and your arms cross below your chest to showcase the bit of cleavage allowed with the scoop neckline, noting the dilation of his lavender eye that roams your figure. “You made the assumption that I was just another one of your brother’s whores.”

You now can see the curl of his lips and you sigh your relief. He steps closer and reaches his hand to touch your jaw; his touch elicits a physical response and goosebumps ripple over your body, your nipples peeking beneath your dress. His lavender eye drinks in your figure. “You never did tell me,” he murmured, his voice dark and velvet.

“I have been sent for your plea-” you tried to begin, but he was quick to cut you off.

“Where are you from?”

Your mind floods with a response: How do I explain I am from the 21st century and he is the figment of my sexy imagination? Your eyes remain locked on the prince and you struggle to control your voice, “I cannot say.”

His expression is unreadable and his only reply is his low hum, then his hand grasps onto your hips, turning you and bringing your body flush against his chest. He nuzzles into your neck, pushing your hair aside so his mouth can suck and nip at the nape. His large hands grip onto your stomach and follow your curves, moving to the hem of your dress and pulling it to your hips.

You moan from his warm touch as his fingers trace the lace of your cotton thong and move towards your center, titillating your slit. You feel your clit pulsing from his touch and he hums again, hugging you close with one arm wrapping around your waist and his other hand cupping your cloth cunt; his hips roll against you and you can feel his bulge grind against your ass.

“So fucking wet,” he groans against your neck and more goosebumps ripple in response.

“Yes, my prince,” you say with your exhale, twisting to face him and find his lips.

He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss and your tongue responds with long, languid movements to drink in the taste of his mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, bruising your lips against his own, and his hands trail the curve of your hips and to your backside, feeling the bare flesh of your ass. His palm rises and slaps soundly against your skin; you squeal in response. “My prince!” You pull back, your cheeks and nose flushed from kissing.

“You act as if no other man has handled you this way,” he smirks. “Wherever you come from, do the men there make you feel a certain way?”

Fuck me, I have never felt like this, but you feel shy with his question and instead say, “My prince, I have been searching for the pleasure you gave me and I have yet find anything that compares…”

Your answer is petting his ego, yes, but gods he was pretty. You did not expect him to speak further and your body pines to feel his touch, his lips once more. “And when you search to recreate,” his lips curl with his words, “the pleasure I gave you, did you use your hands?”

His tone is low, husky with his question and your cheeks burn when you nod yes.

“Show me. I want you to touch yourself.”

Before you can comprehend what he said, his hands grab the small of your waist and bring you back towards the bed. He pushes you back, your dress still bunched around your hips, and climbs on top to find your lips for a slow, lingering kiss before moving lower to grab the lace strings to remove your thong.

The cool air nips at the wetness between your thighs and he brings your fingers to his mouth, suckling to lube them. Your back arches from the tickle of his tongue to your fingertips and you pull back your hand, letting it fall between to caress your swollen slit, your eyes never leaving him.

He takes a step back and moves his hands to unlace the top of his trousers, his hand reaching to caress his cock and his steady gaze never leaving you. It feels sinful and you feel the first crest of pleasure wash over, a soft sigh slipping from your lips.

“Daor,” his voice pulls you from the edge, his gaze darkened on you. “Nyke mērī vestās renigon.”

No. I only said to touch.

He pulls the loose tunic over his head, his silver hair spilling onto his shoulders and his leather trousers low on his hips, his Adonis belt prominent on his toned abdomen. He moves to press his hands onto the peaks of your thighs, pushing the dress further up and you are quick to peel off the rest in time to see him dip between your thighs.

His mouth finds your center and you smother yourself in the bunched fabric of your dress as his tongue runs your slit. Aemond pauses and peers at you for a moment. “I need to hear you,” he says, his breath warm on your cunt and you are quick to throw the dress aside.

He returns his attention, his tongue lavishing you; your hands are eager to comb his silken hair and he hums his pleasure into your cunt. Your moans grow wanton and the pleasure builds towards your crescendo when he stops suddenly.

You prop yourself onto your elbows to look at him and the curl of his lips seem wicked. “I have been waiting for you to return to me,” he said simply. “You will not have your release until I decide.”

Before you can protest, he moves quickly, his hands sink into your flesh with his hold and flipping you onto your stomach, drawing you closer towards the bed edge until your legs drop and your feet touch the cobblestone. You feel his chest press against your backside and the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance before he sinks into you. You moan with his delicious stretch and he gives a low groan as he bottoms out in you, falling forward and pressing his lips to your spine.

“Just as I remember,” he growls, before his hands grab onto your hips and he ruts into you with a brutal pace. Your arms stretch in front to grab hold of anything as you feel him crash against you, his hip bones digging into the softness of your ass and reaching a depth that has your nipples taut with pleasure.

“My prince,” your cries are pitiful and you can feel his breath on your spine.

“Ñuha brōzi,” his tone husky. “Vestragon ūja.”

My name. Say it.

“Aemond, please,” you obey, the crescendo building again and you see stars flitting across your vision. “Aemond, Aemond…”

He can feel the flutter of your cunt but his pace does not cease until he feels you clenching, crying out as your orgasm rolls over your entire body; his thrusts slow with his release and he falls forward, wrapping his arms around you to hold you flush against him for a moment.

You are torn between the fortune of another successful sexy dream and your realization that your subconscious has absolutely ruined your pussy, but you push the thoughts aside when he pulls you back beneath the covers. You curl up against the prince, your head resting against his chest while his fingertips travel the length of your spine and back.

“You said I kept you waiting,” you say shyly.

He hums at first and then he says, “I imagine you will leave me again.”

“I will need to,” you feel an ache with your words. “But I will stay as long as I am able to.”

Aemond hums again and turns to pull you against his chest. You feel the press of his lips to your hairline and feel the flush of goosebumps with the murmur of his words, “Sȳz riña.”

Good girl.

#where is my mind #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #hotd fanfic #part 2 #thanks for reading #♥#Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader #aemond fanfic

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jujutsubaby · 8 months

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final round (part 1)

☆ pairing: eren x afab!reader ☆ summary: you have a very important interview coming up that basically dictates whether or not you have a job after college. and you're sure you're gonna ace it...as long as your arch-nemesis doesn't have anything to do with the interview... ☆ warnings: 18+, not nsfw in this part but has suggestive themes, former TA/student relationship, eren is kinda mean to you (but you're kind of mean to eren), a hint of power dynamics ☆ a/n: hiiiii my very first blurb on this site ~ yes this is my brain rot from trying to find a new job. also should i do a part 2? i kinda did this to tease the relationship a bit bc i didn't want my very first thing to be smut haha o(≧▽≦)o

you hear a ping from your laptop indicating a new email. you read the subject line:

Paradis Labs, Inc Final Interview - Next Steps

you couldn't believe your eyes. your dream company wanted to interview you for their final round and suddenly, you weren't able to even focus on hearing about your best friend sasha's latest hookup at delta phi last weekend.

"hey y/n? you listening? he took me to pound town and back...what's more important than this?" sasha inquired, snapping her fingers in front of your face.

"uhh..i got into the final round interview for paradis labs! AH!" you squealed.

sasha remained seated but elated. "i'm not the least bit surprised. you're the smartest, hottest girl i know after all", she winked. "but wait... doesn't you know who work there now after he graduated..." she trailed off, not wanting to illicit any alarm bells off of you.

you groaned, thinking about you know who. you knew him unfortunately very well in the worst way possible. the guy who was your TA last semester and absolutely crushed you while grading your midterms and finals. not only did he never answer any of your questions during class, he actively ignored you? and would only talk to some sleazy girls he was planning to hit on after the class ended. he had berated your final project, purposefully skipped over you on the waitlist queue multiple times during office hours, and you could've sworn he gave you the wrong advice once on a lab.

eren fucking jaeger.

you groaned just even thinking his godforsaken name out loud. "it's okay sash, paradis labs is like one of the largest companies in the nation. the odds of you know who being my interview is basically slim to none." you surmised unsuspectingly. you always had a way of attracting the worst luck, but you couldn't bear to entertain that for even a second.

~ two weeks later ~

okay, you got this. you've been studying for this final round nonstop for the last two weeks, you thought to yourself as you rode the bus to the elusive paradis lab headquarters. you've turned down every party, every study session, every potential "date" sasha tried to set you up with for this one interview. and you felt great about it.

you arrived at the headquarters 30 minutes early, thanks to your fear of being late, and you started to feel your stomach growling, clearly indicating that the glass of orange juice you chugged before you left was not enough. the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit your nostrils, and you found yourself at the paradis cafe at the lobby of the building you were interviewing at. you ordered your coffee and pastry, but as you're waited, you heard a distant, yet familiar voice in the background. you dared not turn behind you, because you knew if you saw him, your day was fucking over. you know exactly who it was. hell, you could recognize that laugh in a room full of people, easily.

ignoring the mild annoyance, you looked at your watch and started getting anxious. you grew increasingly annoyed and worried about bumping into you know who, and you just wanted to grab your stupid coffee and go upstairs and get this interview over with.

"one iced matcha latte with oatmilk for y/n!" the barista chirped, as you dashed to the front to grab the order. you heard the familiar laughter die down, but as you turned around to beeline to the elevator, someone's torso knocked you out and you spilled your iced matcha all over your freshly dry cleaned blouse and someone else's shirt.

"oh my god, i'm SO sor-", you stopped cold. wait, no. it's not just anyone's shirt i spilled coffee on. no it can't be-

"hey, doofus", eren glared. you detected a hint of playful mischief in his dark eyes, but it went away almost immediately. were his eyes always so mesmerizing? stop, what the fuck, don't think that! "always makin' a fuckin' mess, are we?"

you rolled your eyes. this could not be happening to you. matcha stained blouse, and you were hungry, and the worst person you knew was here. "fuck off, asshat", you retorted. "i literally have a meeting in 10 minutes and i look like a fucking idiot because of you."

"for what it's worth, you always looked like a fucking idiot." eren said.

you flipped him off before you beelined to the elevator, aiming to head to the change room immediately. you didn't have an extra blouse, but you were wearing a sleeveless black shirt underneath, which hid the stain well but it was a bit tight. even you had to admit your boobs looked amazing in it. tucking it into your loose grey slacks, you stepped outside the washroom and composed yourself. your interview was in 3 minutes, but you could do this. you knew you can. you passed eren's class last year, and that was with his ass constantly throwing you curveballs. this was nothing.

you entered the waiting room for the interview, waiting your name to be called in. shortly, a dark haired man wearing a white shirt and black slacks called you in. "y/n? there you are." he said nonchalantly as his narrowed in on you. "come into my office, please." as you walked next to him, you realized he's way shorter than he looked from across the waiting room.

"i'm levi, and i'll be conducting your interview today. please take a seat." he motioned to the chair across his table.

"hi levi. i'm y/n. i just want to say that i am so grateful to have had this opportunity to come onsite and be interviewed by some of the most magnificent minds of our-" you're interrupted by a loud phone call coming from levi's desk.

"i apologize miss y/l/n. let me just quickly answer that. they should know i'm in the middle of interviewing candidates..." he said, sounding slightly annoyed by the phone call.

he answered it, and you heard him groan and say "i'll be right there. send him to my office to take over." he looked over at you, partially annoyed and partially apologetic about the fuss happening. "i apologize. some brat fucked up the program we were releasing today, and now i have to clean up some one's mess." he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. you thought you heard him say that he's going to fire the brat at the end of the say.

"someone else will be coming to conduct the interview, but don't worry. he can be a bit much, but he's unfortunately one of our best recent hires in a while. i'm sure you'll be in good hands." levi said, before he grabbed his stuff and headed to the work emergency.

you were left a bit confused, but ultimately grateful that you had more time to calm yourself down after what happened in front of the cafe. out of all the people who work here, why did you have to run into him. you just can't catch a fucking break can you? you thought to yourself.

as if right on cue, levi's office door opened, and your thoughts were interrupted by the person who once again, occupied an unnecessary amount of thoughts in your head. your jaw dropped, and you practically had to stop yourself from yelling at the universe for this sick, cruel twist of fate that destiny was putting you through.

eren fucking jaeger.

you heard him chuckle deeply. "oh, this is going to be so much fun." eren smirked, his eyes staring at you deeply. he looked at you up and down, and suddenly, you really wished you hadn't taken off your blouse in the changing room, feeling suddenly exposed in this tiny hot (hot? when did this office get hot?) office.

you took a deep shaky breath and buried your head in your hands, groaning and letting out all of the bad emotions you were holding in. "eren, if you're just going to flunk me on this interview, just tell me right now. i'll go home and we'll both just move on." you pleaded. what else can you even do at this point? you should've known this interview was over the minute you heard his stupid laugh in the cafe.

"woah there, slow down doof," he said teasingly. he moved in front of you, partially sitting on levi's (quite expensive) mahogany desk. "you can't just leave an interview before it even started. and who said i was gonna flunk you on this? do you reaaaally think i'd do something like that?"

"umm, you literally did! last year on my midterm, stupid", you yelled exasperated. you were trying hard to keep your cool and calm disposition, but eren always loved to test your limits.

eren pretended to think about it for a second before he shook his head. "nope, doesn't ring a bell. anyway, first question of this interview: why do you want to work at paradis labs?" he asked.

"well, if you must know, i-", you started, before being interrupted by eren.

"i actually don't care. i don't know why anyone asks that." eren laughed, eyes skimming over the files on levi's desk. oh, you could slap him right now. your patience was wearing thin. "hm, well look at this here. your resume says you took a chemical engineering lab last year with professor zeke.?" he asked, knowing damn well the answer was yes. he tried to hold back the smile he had while he watched you visibly tighten up at the sound of the class. "care to tell me about that?"

"not really since you were my TA for that class and went out of your way to almost fail me." you retorted back, fuming at what was happening. no way was he trying to bring this shit up in the middle of an interview. but you were not backing down from this fight. it had been a long time coming. i'm not getting the job anyway at this point. might as well go out cursing eren while i'm at it, you thought to yourself.

"god, i don't know why you think that," he mused teasingly. "if anything, i helped make sure the other stricter TAs didn't grade your work. i dunno where you're getting this idea i hated you." he shrugged. you could swear he almost sounded...honest while saying the last part.

"oh wow, you're really too kind," you said sarcastically as you rolled your eyes. where does this guy get off?

"no, really y/n. i'm being serious," eren said earnestly. a slight genuine smile formed on his lips.

wait, is he? also, why is his smile so...cute? no, stop it, y/n! compose yourself! you quickly snapped out of your thoughts.

"you also ignored me every single time i came to your office hours and every time i came to your lab for help. you literally helped every single girl but me", you accused. you didn't mean to sound harsh and annoyed, but deep down, you felt your chest tighten up and you didn't know why. who cares if he helped other girls, he hates your guts anyway. why were you feeling so sour about it?

"don't give me that shit. i didn't help you because you were the cutest girl in lab and i couldn't make it seem like i was being inappropriate." he said without skipping a beat. eren wasn't sure what made him say it, but it was true.

your eyes snapped to him, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you momentarily forgot what you were even doing here as your head felt dizzy all of sudden. no way you just heard what you thought you heard. you jaw fell and you were at a loss of words to respond. "i...uhh...well.." cough. "um, o-o-okay..." you trailed off, desperate to find the words to respond to eren. you thought back to your class lat year with eren. was he ever really that mean to you? or were you just a bit desperate to do well in an important class? no, wait, he's just being asshole.

"well, if you liked me so much why did you hook up with those sorority girls after the semester ended?" you said incredulously. this was some big fucking joke and you were not going to lose this game.

"oh c'mon, y/n. don't act like you never had a one night stand before." eren explained, his voice lacking any hint of teasing or malice. "besides, you were the only one on my mind, anyway...", eren whispered under his breath so lowly that you weren't able to make out what he said.

well, actually, you haven't ever had a one night stand like that. in fact you never actually...had sex with anyone before. you've always been too focused in school to really date around, and the most action you've gotten was hearing about sasha's escapades. and you sure as hell weren't going to let eren know that.

"umm...well...", you said as you flustered your words. you took a bit too long to compose yourself and respond, which was all eren needed to connect the dots.

"oh shit. y/n...are you a virgin?"

"u-umm...of course not...i-i just...i just never found...or had the time...", you dropped your gaze. that's it, eren had just found his trump card, after he played the cruelest joke on you. you couldn't even think of a witty one liner like you usually did to get out of something like this. you were tired and shocked by eren's confession (which you didn't even believe fully). and not only that, but you were talking about your v-card with your worst enemy.

"hey, hey, hey, it's okay. i'm sorry, y/n. i shouldn't have brought it up, that was weird. and...", eren trailed off. he wasn't sure what to say next, but he said it earnestly and honestly. "i'm sorry for treating you like shit when i was your TA, and i'm sorry for bumping into you and spilling your matcha all over us," even though eren would've done it again if it meant he could see you in the form fitting top you currently have on, but he dared not to comment on that.

you sighed, partially out of relief and partially because you felt vindicated through his apology. your eyes glanced up to his, and both of your gazes softened. "so, you really do like me?" you teased eren, finally cracking a slight playful smile and releasing the tension in the atmosphere.

"shut the fuck up and don't make me say it again, doofus." eren mumbled, as he leaned closer into you. your heart started beating faster and you swear even eren could hear the pounding in your chest as you sucked in a deep shaky breath. you didn't mean to break eren's gaze and look at his lips, but you did and eren noticed. his smile curved up slightly as he leaned closer to you. you felt his hot breath near you lips, and just as his lips were about to crash into yours, the door bursted open to a slightly disheveled levi.

eren immediately snapped back to leaning on levi's desk, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. you prayed that levi could not see how flushed you looked or the goosebumps on your arm.

"how did the interview go?" levi asked eren.

eren gave a quick warm glance to you before he said, "y/n did great. answered every question with ease. i think we should extend an offer." you noticed the slightest hint of a smile in eren's professional demeanor, but you were more surprised that he'd do this for you. bit by bit, you felt your hard shell crumbling for eren, and you wondered how you will survive working at paradis labs after graduating.

eren walked you back to the elevator, his hand lightly touching the small of your back as guided you across the hallway. "well, i guess i look forward to working with you and picking back up where we started." eren said with a wink.

you turned around and touched eren's shirt, softly tracing the matcha stain you gave him. "hm, maybe i'll start off my first day dumping coffee on you first thing in the morning." you playfully teased, your breath accidentally hitching as you realized his chest was way harder than you expected it to be. oh my god, no way he's actually built under the shirt. embarrassed, you quickly buried that thought deep where it came from.

"hm, maybe i'll take you to the bathroom and make you help me clean it up," he replied, his eyes filled with warmth and invitation. something that was new to you, but you weren't complaining.

god, you couldn't wait to graduate.

#attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren x y/n #eren jeager x reader #eren aot #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger aot

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bumblebeerror · 2 months

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Don’t get me wrong man, Kamala Harris being an actual politician who knows what the fuck is going on is my preferred president to the Cheeto who wants to make it legal for him to be king, but CHRIST if every news site doesn’t sound like a tiktok audio of the most annoying resident of San Francisco, California.

Like my guy she is not girlbossing. Her running mate was EIGHTY YEARS OLD and decided probably people would like someone else because the dem docket is hemorrhaging votes because everybody’s retired grandpa is showing up to the polls and fuckijg nobody else because they all believe in the glorious revolution and fuck them poor / disabled folks am I right.

She’s not joining the gays, she is an ex cop. She’s not girlbossing, she was literally just handed the presidential candidacy by Joe. Like I love a good shattered glass ceiling too but are you fucking kidding me. She is 59 years old my guy she does not give a FUCK about gay Twitter.

Would it actually kill journalists to write like they don’t have a checklist of new memes to reference every article they write. My guy please just objectively report the news I don’t want to hear about brat summer.

This feels so bah humbug but every article I’ve read looks like a fucking satire piece I would read on this godforsaken webbed site but damn at least it would be satire! They actually mean it on news sites! Her being a woman doesn’t magically make her better at being president - it’s the fact that she isn’t Donald Trump, the guy currently trying to solidify that crime doesn’t count if you’re america’s specialist little boy at the time.

Like yea! She’ll be better than him! That’s not a high fucking bar my guy. We are like 3 inches off the ground with her while trump is subterranean.

Unironically, im glad Biden dropped out. I think it helps to set a precedent that this country doesn’t need yet more tired old men running it. But also don’t get fucking starry-eyed over her being a woman - she ran with Biden for a reason. You still have to stay on her ass about Palestine and reinstating Roe V Wade and protecting gay marriage and trans healthcare. She is not automatically on our side just because she’s a woman.

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ajuice-matts · 5 months

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Nico Hischier and Alexander Holtz!!!!

long time no see with the babygirl examinations!!

i already examined nico which you can find here !!!

as for holtzy, he's IS in fact babygirl. he exudes babygirl energy. like go look at his instagram that man takes pride in his feed which is such a big babygirl slay (see exhibit a below (the fits in exhibit a are also babygirl in itself)). he's also very boyfriend coded which adds to the babygirl-ness. not to mention the amount of videos we got of his man shamelessly flirting with his own teammates, it felt like we got a new video every time the devils played. one of my favorite photos to emerge on this godforsaken site proves this point (see exhibit b below). look at it. LOOK AT IT. the amount of babygirl energy in this one photo is astronomical!!! (i think about this photo more than I should). now we will first look at exhibit c, the picture of the polaroid picture is quite babygirl, but i just KNOW that the polaroid camera used to take this picture is his. i have no proof that it is, but i have a gut feeling & i will not be told otherwise. exhibits d-g, i do not have an explanation for why they are babygirl, they speak for themselves. in conclusion, alexander holtz is an underrated babygirl, who deserves more love!!!!!

exhibit a)

exhibit b)

exhibit c)

exhibits d-g)

#babygirl examination #alexander holtz #nico hischier #new jersey devils

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boobabietch · 1 year

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Like I Would | Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Warnings: I could say mdni but they are going to do it anyways so just be mindful that this is +18 and I’m not responsible of the things you watch on this godforsaken site. SMUT, Sub!abby, thigh riding, oral sex (Abby receiving), afab!reader, teasing and I think that’s it but tell me if I missed something

A/N: oh my fucking god this took ages to writeeee, but anyways, hi there!! This is the first time I write for Abby so please excuse me if this is bad (hopefully not because I really liked the result) and also I haven’t wrote smut in ages so excuse that too. I’m not an English native speaker so any mistakes I’m not aware of please tell me so I can change them asap. If you like this you would help me a lot with a like, comment or reblog. Love Sof :)

Word count: 2.1k

"So... are you telling me that he went in dry?" You said this in clear distress to your best friend, Abby.

"Yes?" she said with a little hesitation in her voice.

"And you're still seeing that guy? No wait, let me rephrase that, you're still letting that guy fuck you?" You were astonished by the information Abby just shared. She was so damn perfect, yet somehow she was never properly satisfied in her many experiences with sex.

Why am I not the one in your bed every night?

"I mean, he had a nice time, and that was definitely hot." Oh, fuck no, she did not just say that.

"Shut up, Abby; that's fucked up, dude."

"I mean, what can I say? I take pleasure in seeing people get pleased by me."

"I mean, that's valid! Of course, but that is very different from just letting a guy use you as a sex doll without even making you cum! That's just bad sex, Bibi." You know it; you know that if you just had a chance, you could show her how fucking good she can feel.

"Ok, stop bothering me. Owen is like that. He's rough. It's fine. I can take it." Of course Owen is like that; he’s an idiot.

"Abbyyyy, that's not the issue, and you know it."

Come on, a chance, just one single chance, Abigail, please.

Let me fuck his name away, please

You begged, you literally begged in your mind, to be the one to show Abby that release she was desperately looking for.

"Well, miss know-it-all, if you're going to roast the shit out of me, at least tell me what I'm doing wrong."

"Abby, you're choosing the wrong guys. They can't please you."

They are not me.

"They can't?" The cockiness in her voice could be heard a mile away.

Shit, what game are we playing?

"Of course they can’t, I'm telling you! They just don't know what to do with you. They don't know how to properly treat you, Bibi."

They don’t know, but I do and you know it

"Oh, lord, then who knows? Who knows how to treat me? You?" That fucking giggle she let out after voicing the question...

You were taken aback by it. You had the thought before, every damn night, of Abby all over you, kissing her hungrily like you were starved, your lips biting and sucking every inch of her body, marking her as yours, screaming your name like it was a fucking prayer, like she wanted God to be a witness of the sin happening between you two. Of course you had the thought before...

Fuck it, I’m fucking you.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"I said yes; I'm pretty sure I can do it."

"Then do it; make me fucking cum."

There was something in Abby’s eyes that told you how much she wanted you, how much she craved you, and how much she needed you.

With little to no hesitation, you aggressively pulled her lips into yours, the couch creaking with the sudden movement of your body towering over her. Straddling her hips, her hand traveled to your neck while yours got entangled in her hair, pushing her face impossibly closer to yours.

Her scent makes you dizzy even to remember; your whole senses were full of her; you were breathing her, touching her, and hearing her; she was being engraved in your mind like stone; her body warmth was surrounding your body, making you feel hot and heavy.

Your lips left the comfort of hers to travel to her neck. "Please, just, fuck, just..." she mumbled.

Abby’s head was empty; your body was caging her between the couch, and the way your lips were kissing her soft, velvet skin made her sigh dreamily and made your core ache in agony.

But this wasn’t about you; it was about her.

You started spreading little bites that made her whimper, just so you could smooth out the ache on her red and burning skin afterwards with your tongue, licking on the spots where a mark would be noticeable tomorrow.

You guided Abby to your bed, stumbling into the furniture of your little apartment, and then kicking open the door of your bedroom. Abby sat on your bed, her lips only leaving yours just to tear her shirt and pants away, leaving her only in her fucking black boxers.

The thing is, you’ve been fantasizing about that slutty piece of clothing since the first time you saw her waistband peeking over her jeans, just there, resting and calling you to tear them apart and make her yours there and then.

She lays on your pillows, watching you discard your shirt on the floor. Your nipples perked up because of the sudden cold air that hit them.

"You are so fucking beautiful," she said with her hands traveling to your hips, guiding you to rest on top of her again, now being her the one pressing kisses all over your chest and toying with the hem of your pajama shorts.

"I know pretty one, but let’s focus on you, shall we?" And with a sudden move, you made Abby straddle you while you rested with your back on the headboard.

You kissed her, and a long whine came out of Abby’s lips. Ready to give her some relief, you grabbed her hips, guiding her to grind her clothed cunt on your bare thigh.

"Holy fuck!" It was sparkling; it literally felt like the sparks that come out of a lighter before the flame comes out to burn everything on its path.

"You like that, huh? You desperate little thing, you love this." Abby never felt more turned on by someone; it was like heaven—like a perverted, hot, and burning heaven—shit that sounded more like hell, but if hell felt this good, she would be the biggest sinner of all just so she could feel you again.

Her movements started to become erratic; she moved faster and harsher; her mouth started to let out little moans and profanities; and your skin was now soaked and dripping just from Abby’s fluids.

"You want to cum pretty one? You deserve this one bibi come on," and with that, a long moan came out of her mouth, your hands guiding her to ride her high.

"Shit, shit, shit, you are so fucking hot," she said, leaning for more kisses, but you dodged her face.

"No uh, lay for me, Abs. Be a good girl." She watched you with doe eyes as she complied, slowly laying in your mattress below you once again. You swear that you have never seen her like this, so compliant and at your mercy. You swore that if you struck a knife on her stomach right now mercilessly, she would accept it and thank you for it. She was in awe of you.

Her mind cleared again when the cold air hit her soaking cunt, and she became aware that you had just removed her boxers and were now staring at that pretty and glistening pussy she had.

"Is this okay?" you asked, seeing how she looked at you like a deer in headlights.

"Yes, just do it, please." The agony in her voice became visible when she stuttered the confirmation. You came closer to her face, leaving some soft and slow kisses all over her face

"Okay, Abs, what do you want me to do?" You said it with the most innocent and indecent tone of yours.

"Wha- what?" She stumbled over the words because, holy fuck, you were unreal.

"Yes, Abby, what do you want me to do?" You said slowly parting her legs with your knee, pressing it in her cunt, and start grinding it slowly just to tease the whiny mess you had underneath.

"Your mouth, your fingers, I want you; please, I want you in me," she finally said, rushing the words out of her mouth.

"Your wish is my command, pretty girl." With that, you kissed your way down, sucking a little bit her nipples and leaving hickeys all over her chest. You made it to her cunt, slowly kissing the inside of her legs.

"Fuck, please y/n, please just do something." God, she was so needy.

You licked a line from her entrance all the way to her clit. She was squirming, so you grabbed her hips aggressively, pinning her to the bed. A loud moan coming from her mouth was your cue to start devouring her cunt like a starved woman, your hands applying bruising strength to her hips to keep her steady while you ate her out in the most ungodly way you knew.

Feeling how wet she was, you slipped two fingers into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. You began curling them at her spongy spot, playing with the pace, and then you added your mouth to the equation.

It was too much, but also not enough, and also perfect. Abby’s hand found its way to your hair, gripping it tightly as the other one covered her mouth to muffle her loud moans.

"Hey no, I want to hear your beautiful sounds, ok? So loose the hand or I’ll have to tie it to the headboard" you said, not liking a little bit how hard she was trying to not make a sound. It was your fucking apartment; if your neighbors had any complaints, they could shove it up their asses. Hell, even if it was God and Satan themselves, they could religiously go suck a dick if they were bothered.

Your unholy pace kept going alongside your delirious way to eat cunt, and hearing Abby moan your name like she was trying to carve it in the walls was a fucking dream come true

And then she felt it—the knot forming in her stomach, begging to be untied. The sweat made loose strands of her hair stick to her forehead, the reflex of her hips buckling upwards towards the stimuli, begging for more. The primal instinct to let out the most beautiful whines and moans you'd ever heard, and the urge to bury your face deeper into her cunt just so she could let all that pressure in her core out in that sweet and strong release she was hoping for.

Your eyes traveled upwards, and you saw Abby's face, eyes completely shut down with tears threatening to fall out, all her face contorted with her brows furrowed, and you knew she was there.

"It's okay, pretty one. You can just let go; it's fine," you said. Abby gasped at the sudden loss of contact while you spoke, but then this sudden feeling of pleasure traveled from her body to her core, making her legs shake and the grip she had in your hair become even harsher. "It's okay, Abby. You can let go," and with this came the orgasm she was begging God to have.

Her cum dripping all over your chin, you helped her ride her high, slowly decreasing the pace your fingers had at her now-abused hole until you saw her visibly relax all the muscles in her body, flopping onto the mattress.

With a last kiss on her puffy clit, you made your way up her body, scanning all the marks you left in her hips from the strength you were using to hold her down and the purplish hickeys forming all over her breasts, proving how good you made her feel.

You kissed away all those tears, showering her face with kisses while whispering sweet nothings and compliments. And then, finally, you kissed her lips with such tenderness, as if she were made of porcelain and you were afraid of breaking her, a complete contrast to your first kiss of the night.

Abby's hand traveled to cup your cheek, while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. She had just experienced her first orgasm during sex, and the entire time, she felt loved and cared for by you, making her weak in the knees.

You pulled away, looking expectantly into her eyes. "So, how was it?" you asked, a little grin forming on your lips.

Abby was so enamored with the view of you on top of her, breathing heavily, blushing cheeks, all sweaty and perfect, that she couldn't speak. She tried your lips just today, and just as quickly as it sounds, she became obsessed with how perfectly your entire existence fit with hers, making her feel complete and incredibly good.

After cleaning up, you lay facing upwards with Abby nestled beside you, burying her face in your neck. Abby was a big, intimidating, and dominant woman most of the time, but sometimes she just wanted someone to take care of her, just as she took care of everyone else. And you were that someone. Tonight, with her whole body pressed into you and your digits tracing shapes on her bare back, you thought while pressing your lips to her forehead.

Hell yeah, I could get used to this.

Tags: @cvqii @akinui

Requests are: open!

Masterlist

#lesbian #abby the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #the last of us #abby anderson #sub!abby x reader #smut #abby anderson fic #abby anderson fan fiction #boowrites★#boo’sadultcontent★

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fangirleaconmigo · 1 year

Text

Finished S5 of Justified and Raylan’s behavior with Boyd is just so unnecessarily dramatic. Like he’s a one man high school production of whatever the shit he’s got going on.

I mean. Whenever Raylan needs intel on the criminal element, he *could* just ASK Boyd for it. We all know that. He knows it. I know it. You know it.

He could literally fuckin walk into that godforsaken bar/site of more executions than I can count, and he could say:

Hey Boyd. There’s a kid in trouble. OR he could say Boyd, I’m in trouble. OR Boyd, I need your assistance.

And GUESS WHAT BOYD WOULD DO

He would flash his pearly whites. He would do his narrow hipped vest wearing gay little swagger. He would sit down next to him and something like

well, Raylan Givens, I do declare, like the philosophers say, it is my pleasure to assist the golden son of Harlan blahdeeblahblah. He would serve him some whiskey and scoot in close and he would help!! Because they dug coal together!!

Boyd is a criminal far beyond anything Raylan has ever contemplated. However, Boyd’s hometown, his community, and his former partner in coal extraction, MATTER to him. We all know that. Raylan knows that. All these people Raylan wants intel on are outsiders and as far as Boyd is concerned, fuck outsiders.

There’s a hierarchy of loyalty and Raylan, lawman though he is, is Harlan. Raylan is HIS. So his loyalty will be there first, fuck the US Marshall service this is Raylan Givens.

We. All. Know. This.

But can Raylan just be a normal goddamned person and ask for information?

Noooooooooo no of course Raylan Givens has to swagger in with his little hat cocked, his gun out, his dick loaded, and start threatening Boyd, punching his bar staff, giving him ultimatums and threats to “force” Boyd to give him intel he woulda given him if simply asked.

Why does he do that?

Because Raylan is HYPER AWARE of the fact that he treads that line between outlaw and lawman but he NEEDS that distinction between him and Boyd. He NEEDS it or he (in his mind) becomes his daddy or he becomes Boyd.

So he has to put on this big production every time. He has to go through these motions of harassing Boyd for no reason.

Because GOD FORBID he admit they have a bond. GOD FORBID he admit they could be friends in another life. Hell he could *be* Boyd in another life. GOD FORBID he admit that his obsession with Boyd outstrips every passion he has experienced in his romantic relationships. GOD FORBID he notice that he is prioritizing his obsession with Boyd over his own child.

He cannot cope with any of that! If he acts like a normal person with Boyd, it all comes tumbling down.

So he just goes through the motions and acts out his little high school production of a John Wayne movie every damn time. It’s this whole rigamarole he drags his colleagues along to witness and I’m embarrassed for him!

Raylan! Get your shit together! Get in therapy! (No, don’t. This is way more entertaining.)

#justified #raylan givens #boyd crowder #they dug coal together

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secondbeatsongs · 1 year

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hot take - like, actual controversial take: I don't care about tumblr live

I honestly do not give a shit about it. I'm not going to use it, but I don't care if it's around, and I'm fine with snoozing it every week. it doesn't bother me

my guess is that this is a service that operates through some other social media app, and that tumblr is getting money for how many people they can get to use it. this would explain why you can't disable it permanently but only snooze it - by having to turn it off every week, you'd be briefly seen as an active user, since while it's unsnoozed, you'd be making the conscious choice to not disable it.

(or, it could be that because it's on a toggle, to re-snooze it you have to briefly turn it back on. maybe it's that that makes you seem like an active user)

is this the actual truth? who knows! but it's so un-tumblr-like, that I figure they must be getting something out of it. and since I can still turn it off and not have to think about it most of the time, I say more power to them, because I want this site to survive, and if this makes them money then cool, have fun

I will never use it, of course. I'm not going to accept those terms and conditions, and it seems sketchy as hell. but I don't think they're bad for choosing to have it, if it's something that keeps this godforsaken hellsite chugging along

#personal #tumblr live

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namorslutfanfiction · 2 years

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girl I'm down bad for tenoch, like i havent been in a long time for a male celebrity. i am obsessed!! his birthday is tomorrow!

i have so much curiosity about him (as a person, you know), like does he believe in astrology? hes such an aquarius! and because of that, the answer could be yes or no hahah

I have been practicing my spanish more nowadays; i have read almost every single tweet this man has tweeted. im currently reading his book (which is amazing!! must read for people who want to know more about mexicos power dynamics, racism, colorism! very enlightening; as a latina myself, i could swap mexico to my countrys name and it would fit perfectly) (also he is very articulated, intelligent and funny! such an easy-going read besides the theme).

whats his favorite book? what kind of songs he listens to? share your spotify account with me tenoch!!

whats his comfort food? whats his WhatsApp profile picture? is it from a professional shoot or a selfie he took on his phone? did he cave in and bought an iphone? did he have pets growing up? whos taking care of his plants back home?

does he have a nickname? maybe 'Té', or 'Noche'? or is it something that has nothing in common with his name (my family nickname is completely different from my given name)?

and so on so on!! i need ANSWERS!! necesito tomarme un trago con el!! necesito pachequearme y hablar de la vida con este hombre!!!

Same. Like I literally found myself back on this godforsaken site after years because I needed to be able to vent about my love and obsession for this man.

Oh I would love to know his random opinions and his belief systems. I think he would find it amusing that we have looked up his astrological chart to the best of our abilities. Like he would definitely think "wow thats extensive" but he wouldn't make fun of it like some guys do.

So I know like very rudimentary Spanish that I learned because of my job. I got so often mistaken as some type of latin or hispanic person that it was easier to learn enough Spanish to get by and guests were always so understanding. "Oh she can understand us but it's hard for her to reply." I want to learn more Spanish but I don't have the time right now. I wish I could read his book but a translation isn't out yet.

As a filipino I feel like there will be a lot for me to relate to in the book considering the rampant colorism in all parts of Asia. Filipinos are often referred to as the 'Mexicans' of Asia. Which is weird but also fitting. What snippets of translation I've seen have been so interesting though.

I know he hates reggaeton with so much passion its kind of hysterical. I think I remember him mentioning one of his favorite books in an interview but I can't remember off the top of my head. I knoooow this man has all kinds of proud Latin music on his playlist. Also unabashed bangers like Selena.

He apparently has a screenshot from his whatsapp on his twitter somewhere and I think it's like a normal pic not anything professional.

DOES TENOCH HAVE PLANTS? THAT IS THE QUESTION I NEED ANSWERED BECAUSE I AM A PLANT MOM!

Did you see that interview where he was mad hungry and eating the food the interviewer bought him? I wonder if he's one of those mexican dads who is willing to try a bunch of stuff or if he's the type to always choose latin food over anything else.

I've seen some of his activist friends call him 'Noch' or 'Nochie' I also know that Diego Luna specifically calls him 'chiquitin'. And that makes me giggle because I think he smiles his stupid cute smile every time Diego calls him that.

LOL I have two first names and depending on who you are decides which one you call me. So I don't have any nicknames. Everyone would just get even more confused.

I wanna talk to him about everything, life, love, politics, bull shit, the things that make us happy, the things that make us sad. I wanna talk about our pasts, our futures, our dreams.

I want his advice. Like I bet he gives the best life advice.

thank you for the ask,

#ask #ask me

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japhan2024 · 9 months

Note

💛Smoshblr December Asks Final Day💙

We‘ve done it! We’ve finally reached the end of this lil ask game and also the end of 2023! 🥳 Thank you so much for joining in on this, I truly appreciate it so much 🫶! I wish you a wonderful start into the new year and that all your hopes and dreams for 2024 will come true! ✨💞

But, since the year isn’t quite over yet, I thought this might be a nice time to reminisce a little bit. Therefore, the final question of the Smoshblr December Asks Game:

What are your favourite smosh-related memories of 2023? 💖

(no specific amount required for this one; and you can ofc also include older smosh memories, if you want to 🤗)

Stella!! I'm so gonna miss getting your asks every day in my inbox T_T thank you so much for making this month extra special and festive, it was absolutely wonderful waking up knowing there would be a new one waiting!!! <3

My favorite Smosh-related memory? Well, idk, I read a really great fanfic, but it was a bit out there, a bit too sentimental and unrealistic... it goes like this:

Friendship always wins

The sun scorched the suburbs of Sacramento. The neighborhood looked like if a stock photo had a heroine problem. Bored out of their minds, two sixth graders got grouped together for a school project.

"Here, let me draw some turds on the trash pile."

"I'll add flies."

"Hehehe, yeah that looks better."

The two kids, Ian and Anthony, connected through their shared humor, which ranged from Beavis and Butthead to Home Alone to Southpark, and to whatever was on the internet in that godforsaken time pre-2005.

The oldest one, Anthony, came from a broken home. He had to grow up fast and take care of his siblings and mom. The only times he could really be a kid and fuck around, was with his best friend Ian. Feeling nurtured by Ian's mom and dad, and constantly laughing at Ian's jokes, his happiness was there, with Ian. He could get through working hard, as long as he had Ian to go back to and have fun.

Their nerdy friend group were all into internet humor and Anthony came up with the idea of having a forum for them all to shitpost on and share their creations and collaborate.

But then he got sick. Really sick. He couldn't go to school, had to stay home for six months. He felt so isolated, not seeing his friends, most of all Ian. But Ian showed up at his house with a get well soon card. It was signed by everyone from his class. He could cry, he was so happy with this symbol of friendship. It kept him going the rest of the months. He put his time and energy into coding and learning how to do graphic design.

Smosh was born and it took off. First the website was just for them; Ian, Anthony, and their friends. It had stuff like articles, memes and videos. But soon the whole school was frequenting the site. News traveled outside the school even, and before they knew it, Smosh was an internet phenomenon. After they graduated, Ian and Anthony chose to keep the website going. Just for fun. And they got some money from merch they would distribute themselves.

One day, they saw that one of their videos was pirated and hosted on some new platform: YouTube. That gave them an idea: why not host all their videos there? It was free after all. Being at the right place at the right time, with the right kind of humor and the right kind of raw talent, Smosh was propelled to be one of the biggest YouTube channels there were. They even became the biggest one. However, with success also comes vultures, ready to take everything from you...

A company introduced themselves to Ian and Anthony and promised them the world: give Smosh to us, and you will only have to worry about making videos. We will take care of everything else. It sounded too good to be true. And sadly, it was. For even though at first, Ian and Anthony had more fun than ever, coming up with bigger and funnier videos than ever, they soon found out they were not in control anymore.

Anthony, who had always fought to stay in control of things; his family, his health, his whole life... it was very hard to see his creation being contorted and mutilated into something he didn't want it to be. And he grew to hate it. That hate spread everywhere, even towards his best friend, who kept trying to tell him "man, let's take the losses and be happy we have this job, we could have still been in Sacramento with nowhere to go."

But Anthony had had it.

"Ian, come with me, let's start a new channel, just the two of us."

"Anthony... I can't. It doesn't make any sense business wise. I know it's not ideal, but please, Anthony, stay?"

After years and years of putting his all into the company, Anthony couldn't do it anymore. He quit Smosh, and a shockwave went through the entire fandom that had built around it.

Smosh was still going. But you see, money and power got involved, and Ian and Anthony had lost sight of each other... they tried to hold on, you could see it clear as day, but they were ripped apart by the greed of the soulless company, which is a tautology, if you think about it.

Both guys were heartbroken. Still sneaking glances at each other, but not able to speak. Too much had happened between them.

And then the company went bankrupt and Smosh was in mortal danger. Ian, who had fought to keep the brand alive ever since Anthony left, fought as hard as he could to find someone to buy it, who wouldn't just sell it off for parts like an old car. Luckily, a YouTuber duo who knew Smosh from afar, stepped in and saved the day. Thanks to them and to Ian, Smosh survived. But was it really still Smosh? What was Smosh if it wasn't Ian and Anthony?

In the meantime, Anthony had rebooted his personal YouTube channel and through trial and error found success. Nothing like Smosh, of course, but impressive nonetheless.

Apart from each other, Ian and Anthony persevered. But they were still heartbroken and in need of something. That something was each other of course. And finally, years later, they met again. And they were both surprised. They had both healed and grown enough to see each other and talk freely, like adults. And they were surprised to see how well they still clicked.

It was like they were the same friends they had been all those years ago, but eve better. The slogan they had come up with all those years, finally rang true again, more than it had ever done. Friendship always wins.

And as they reconnected more and more, one faithful day, one of them said..

"what if we bought Smosh?"

And at that moment, their family was no longer broken, they were reunited and Anthony suddenly had a lot more 'kids' to take care of. But he was so happy, so happy to be with Ian again. He was finally fulfilled.

#smoshblr december asks #smosh #fanfic #ianthony

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