#i am so sorry this took me so long

[incorrect-koh-posts]

First of all - love the blog! You posting KoH content always pleases me, and thank you especially for sharing what you write as that takes extra courage.

Now, headcanon asks! Raymond of Tripoli is my favourite character of the era as well, so I'm happy to see some bits about him here. Also great is the fact that you seem to vibe with him quite well! He would be pleased. Could you indulge me, please?

☼ - appearance headcanon ♒ - cooking/food headcanon ☆ - happy headcanon ■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

(When I had my car crash and a limp with it, he came to mind and that is just amusing in a way. The fact he's got one certainly makes me feel better about mine. I was warmed by the earlier post that said he doesn't mind his that much either.)

thanks!

Hi :) Thank you very much for your kind words, it really means a lot to hear that someone enjoys what I post here. Especially the non-Baldwin stuff. Good old Raymond has been living rent-free in my head for the past two years and simply refuses to leave, so I'm glad there are other people who like him and that I'm not screaming into the void like a raving lunatic.

Having a car crash sounds absolutely horrifying to me, though. I very much hope you are okay now. If not, then all my best wishes to you ❤ I've thankfully never had a limp or any serious health issues myself, so I'll limit myself to saying that I don't think these things are anything to be ashamed of. Claiming that they don't affect a person's life in some way would be lying, but we are all of us supposedly "damaged" in some way - whether inwardly or outwardly - and trying to make the best of it under our individual circumstances.

And I think that's why a lot of people feel drawn to the character of Baldwin (and, to a lesser extent, to Tiberias) in Kingdom of Heaven. It's the kind of "this man has been through a lot but he's still standing" mentality that they both exhibit. Which is particularly interesting in regard to Tiberias, since none of the historical sources ever mention Raymond having a limp or an old injury bothering him.

Anyway, sorry for the rant. I'm very happy to indulge you, so let's get on with the headcanon : )

RAYMOND III OF TRIPOLI (Part 2)

☼ Appearance

In terms of looks, Raymond knows he's been dealt a better hand than most other men. Tall and slim, he is rather handsome even after ten years of captivity; and even though his sharp, wolfish features and the scar marring the right side of his face can make him appear somewhat sinister, the soft brown eyes tell a different story. Still, while his height and harsh face have mostly served him well in politics and in war, Tiberias is quite aware that his appearance is not one that instantly inspires trust. The worst things he has heard others say on that topic over the years were that he looked "scrawny", "like a burnt carcass", and "older than he should be". He shrugged it off then; but sometimes, when he passes one of Sibylla's mirrors in the palace and catches a glimpse of his own reflection, he wonders at his crow's feet and the flecks of grey in his hair and for the life of him cannot fathom where all the years have gone.

In any case, he always makes sure he is well-dressed and well-groomed. (Though he wouldn't admit to it, even an old war horse like him isn't entirely exempt from vanity.) He may not be everyone's type, but Raymond knows there are still a not inconsiderable number of ladies among Sibylla's court that wouldn't say no to him. Despite the silver at his temples and his ill-sorted leg, he is, after all, rather ... well-preserved. So when he notices a lady trying to catch his eye, there is a good chance he'll take her up on the unspoken offer of some harmless teasing and flirting. Tiberias isn't the philanderer Godfrey was, but sometimes he is glad to be reminded that the boyish charm hasn't worn off entirely just yet.

♒ Cooking / Food

William of Tyre wrote about Raymond that he was very moderate in his eating and drinking habits, much more restrained than the average man. Considering that it is unclear how well he was treated during his time as a prisoner in Aleppo, it seems unlikely to me that he was a picky eater - you don't survive this long as a captive of the enemy if you're particular about food. So, while his time in captivity may have led Reynald of Châtillon to overeating, perhaps for Raymond things went in the opposite direction: making him regard food as a means to an end and not much more. He simply lacks the enjoyment that for most people comes with a good meal, especially when he's dining alone, and often has to remind himself to eat something or else he'd just forget.

While the European style of cooking isn't much to his taste, Raymond is rather fond of the Arabic cuisine and actually keeps a Saracen cook at Tripoli. He generally leans more towards spicy than towards sweet; but find him some atrocity like candied ginger and he'll happily lick the sugar crumbs from his beard like a cat that found the cream. Other than that, Tiberias likes a good wine as much as anyone. To his own chagrin, however, he gets tipsy quite easily and thus tends to limit himself to a cup or two before he begins to make a fool of himself. Godfrey has a wealth of stories on that matter from their younger days which he likes to tell at the most inopportune of times, claiming that "even a nun could drink you under the table, my friend". Tiberias denies everything.

☆ Happy

Raymond hasn't had the kindest of lives, so happiness isn't an emotion that comes easily to him - especially with the times being what they are, and the kingdom in such peril. Malicious gossip has it the Count of Tripoli is actually incapable of smiling: "With his dour face," they say, "surely he can't do aught but scowl". Which, of course, could hardly be further from the truth. Though, like any other lord of some importance, he tries to keep his temper in check around the clucking courtiers, Tiberias is a man who will openly show his happiness if he is in the right company. He is a man who likes to laugh and make merry; and perhaps he'd even be a happy man, if the circumstances were different.

There are many things that make this grumpy old knight happy. But seeing how used he is to doing things for other people, what he would probably appreciate the most would be someone doing something for him, for once. It could be something as simple as his lover helping him take off his boots after a long day; or a friend whisking him away from his duties for an afternoon spent in the city or the falconer's mews or exploring the countryside on horseback; or just a heart-felt thank you from someone for some advice Tiberias gave them. The possibilities are practically endless. (Another favourite of his, though a rare occurrence, is when someone at a courtly gathering gives him unmistakable signals that they'd like to dance with him, even though everybody knows full well that the Count of Tripoli dances like a three-legged donkey at best.)

Depending on the setting and situation, Raymond will definitely show the ones he's with that he is happy - and not merely by way of a twinkle in his eye. He can get downright giddy when the occasion allows for it. If he is really over the moon, he'll grin broadly and laugh his barking laugh, only to then either fiercely pat the closest man's back or sweep the nearest woman off her feet and into a very tight embrace. It happens rarely, but it does happen. He has heard from quite a few people over the years that one of their favourite things about him are the long, deep dimples that appear on either side of his mouth when he smiles.

■ Bedroom / House / Living Quarters

Raymond has quite a few dwellings, actually. There are his chambers at the palace of Jerusalem, plus very likely a house he keeps in the city for when he has guests of his own, then there is Castle Tiberias by the Sea of Galilee, and his ancestral home of Tripoli. Hence, a lot of space to decorate.

His living quarters at the royal palace are rather sparsely furnished; he seldom entertains visitors or spends much time there, and the state of his rooms reflects that he basically only comes there to sleep. They're nice enough - with painted tiles on the walls and gauzy curtains, ferns on the windowsills and flagstone floors that stay cool even in summer - but impersonal.

Castle Tiberias is Eschiva's domain; it's her home, after all, and since Raymond only married her about a dozen years ago, the place doesn't really say much about him, either. That's not to say that it isn't beautiful, though. As Eschiva's ancentors likely came from somewhere near Paris, the castle is more Norman in its architecture and interiors. Overlooking the Sea of Galilee, the castle gardens never lack for water, and the view of the lake at sunset, strewn with the tiny boats of the fishermen from the neighbouring villages, is quite a sight to behold. At night, with the wooden shutters flung open, Raymond falls asleep to the sound of the waves lapping at the shore, reminding him of home.

The Citadel of Saint-Gilles at Tripoli is the place closest to Raymond's heart. Built on Mons Peregrinus, you can see the dark waters of the Mediterranean from the top of its parapets, hear the seagulls cry and smell the salt in the air. With his parents constantly at odds with one another, it wasn't always a happy childhood that he spent there, but nowadays he often misses Tripoli and regrets not being able to go there more frequently. In terms of interiors, the citadel really leans into the mix of Eastern and European styles that also characterises the palace of Jerusalem. The colour scheme is much warmer, however: instead of the blue-ish hues which you'll find in Jerusalem, Tripoli is full of the reds and golds that make up the coat-of-arms of the Counts of Saint-Gilles. The rafters of the high rooms as well as a great deal of furniture are made from dark wood, and there are lots of eclectic fabrics and textures that Tiberias is actually rather fond of. In his private chambers, high up in one of the towers, Arabic elements dominate; he has a great carved four-poster bed that could do with some more pillows, and during winter nights, the lord of the house can often be found reading in one of the high-backed chairs, his long legs stretched out towards the crackling fireplace.

When left to his own devices, Tiberias does tend to be a bit of a clutterbitch, so his desk, side tables and even the mantelpiece are usually strewn with scrolls, seals, and papers and all sorts of other curiosities acquired here and there. He keeps his father's sword, which is too unwieldy for him to use, displayed on a wall in his solar; and most of the hangings found throughout the castle used to belong to his mother, depicting scenes from her favourite French chansons de geste. It may be a place of ghosts and memories now, belonging to an aging, heirless lord who is scarcely there, but to Raymond, Tripoli is still home.

Part 1 of the Raymond / Tiberias headcanons

Want to hear my headcanons for a KoH character of your choice? Have a look here : )

[shady-tavern]

hi! i just wanted to check, it's part three of vampire's lullaby out yet? i didn't see it, but you can't trust tumblr's search function lol

also just wanted to say that it's a lively story and i'm really enjoying all of your writings!!!

Hi there, I am terribly sorry for the incredibly late response! The last and final part of Vampire's Lullaby will be out tomorrow! I finished writing it just now and all that's left is editing and proof-reading!

And thank you so much, I'm very happy that you liked the story and that my writing is fun to read! =D

[fennecshandgf]

tagged by @persimmonbaby to post a book I've been reading with whatever trinkets i wanna add

so

featuring circe, a french book on egyptian history, my sketchbook, a candle, new scrunchies, handmade pencils, a letter i wrote, my fav earrings and ring, and a riceball made out of air-drying clay<3

tagging @madhyanas,.@altantrengsingf, @prophetgirl, @pyaarisms , @moskaisley, @howljenkinsgf, @dobaara and whoever wants to!

[babygirlwinters]

Where: Monarch Club

Who: Logan and @morirodare

The twins' birthday always felt like a contradiction. They were identical but...they weren't. Logan knew that better than anyone since her relationship with both of them was completely opposite from the other. But it meant that what one would like, usually the other hated. At least lately. Mik was always down for some drinks and dancing. Nate was more stuck in his head lately. The one thing they did have in common today was the awkwardness and that was really where Logan's motivation came from to throw a party. If nothing else, she was getting everyone drunk. Well, her siblings anyway. Their parents had dinner with them but called it a night early leaving their children to their own devices.

By the time they had reached the Monarch, Logan had drank far too much. She was on the very edge of everything being hilarious but she wouldn't remember it in the morning. And it sounded like an excellent idea to buy one of her brothers a dance. Nate would kill her, metaphorically, but Mik...he would love it. Or at least find the humor in it.

Logan bounced up to one of the dancers that looked close to her brothers type, sort of, as best she could see anyway. "Hey you are gorgeous. Are you free? Could you maybe help me out with something?"

[sturgeonposting]

Gingerbread sturgeon

HES BEAUTIFUL AND HE MIMICS THE LIFE CYCLE AND GROWTH OF THE GENUS HUSO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[shmaroace]

don't get me wrong, i love all the positivity around being aro, like "be proud of being aro!! love who you are!!", but we never talk about how hard it is to reach that spot. so here's to the aros who are still trying to understand themselves, who aren't proud of who they are yet, who are still coming to terms with their new identity.

[egophiliac]

Serious question.

Do you think we’ll see the parents/family of each of the guys???

Like, We’ve been TEASED with Ace’s brother, that I’m starting to think it’s just a reference to that Alice in Wonderland park character in Japan and nothing else….

Jack’s family, Ruggie’s grandma, Falena, Maleficia, Ms.Rosehearts, Just now Vil’s dad is in the picture which I am really happy but now I’m wondering about his mom, and so Deuce’s mom.

I mean, some HAVE a silhouette!! It could mean they do have a design in the making/ready to show. They could’ve shown us Falena in the Tamashina (hope I said that correctly) event, but didn’t (prolly to make Leona not so σ(▼□▼メ) and it’s understandable)

Anyhow, any idea/headcannon about this? Who do you want to see first?

I'm wondering if everyone might eventually get a travel event? like they've now introduced with Vil's that it doesn't have to be specifically hometowns, so that opens things up a lot! (especially if they have to figure out how to do three separate Coral Sea visits) (how would that even work otherwise)

but yeah, I hope everyone gets a chance! there's a lot of backstory characters I would LOVE to meet. :D :D :D though I do think some of them don't really suit the more light-hearted tone of the events (pretty sure you're right about that being why Falena wasn't in Tamashina-Mina, that would've just been. too much for Leona.) so like...we're probably not ever going to meet the Rosehearts. or Maleficia (although I maintain that this would be THE funniest possible way to introduce her outside of the main story, and actually I would love this a lot, can we please Twst) (I need to see her to put Malleus in a froofy little outfit and tell him what a handsome boy he is). but they've sprung surprises like Kifaji on us, and honestly anyone who shows up and tells embarrassing stories about characters' childhoods is good in my book!

characters off the top of my head who I most want to meet: literally any of the Zigvolts, Azul's mom, Ace's brother, Che'nya's grandfather (<- I think he would be a good one for Riddle) (please just any non-terrible adult in his life), any member of Rook's family because I need to see how they managed to produce him, and...really just whoever they can come up with for Silver.

[ask-queen-arti]

(the ask box is open!)

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

i'll melt your heart into two @jkvjimin ♡

[bellamyblakru]

why do we continue to love bbc merlin over a decade after it's finale?

for the lovely @aemelia who made me giggle, and for @eddiediaaz, a very belated birthday gift because my writing is absolutely garbage and you deserve only the fuckin best of me. i love you, and i hope the next year of your life is nothing but beautiful and fun and everything good--you deserve the world, i'm sorry i can only give you this lil thing.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

ORV is about enduring the horrors in real time.

(for @everyonesfavoritebastard)

[leenope]

cute hyunjin with cute pups for my beloved @jinniebit

[blckbrdlove]

cause i don’t want you like a best friend

paring: eren jeager x reader

summary: despite telling eren you want to take things slowly, the two of you jump into a relationship. much to mikasa’s dismay, the two of you seem very happy.

genre: fluff, smut, angst (for mikasa)

notes: PART TWO IS FINALLY HERE!!!!! i am so so sorry it took so long! life is crazy but i am trying. please keep in mind that there is still a lot coming. i am also not a mikasa hater, this is just a work fiction. any and all feedback is always appreciated! i will tag everyone on the tag list in the comments when i get a little more time later today! i have a few errand to run. as always, this probably needs more editing. title credits; dress; taylor swift

warnings: minors dni, fluff, quick getting into a relationship, newly established relationships, eren is a hopeless romantic, eren is a gentleman, eren is a sweet boy, eren falls in love with reader basically at first sight and has been smitten with her ever since, reader recently got out of a toxic relationship and is still healing- but is also very smitten with eren, unrequited love (mikasa), mentions of creampie, jealousy, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), cucking (? mikasa listens while they fuck in a bathroom, and through the wall while they fuck), reader is implied to be bisexual, reader is very femme, reader gives mikasa a slight sexual awakening?, implied slut shaming from mikasa about reader.

word count: 9.3k

masterlist previous next

He’s late. Mikasa thinks to herself as she keeps looking at the entrance of the diner they eat at nearly every week.

“Where the hell is Eren?” Connie is the one to vocalize her thoughts, a twinge of annoyance in his tone as they’ve been sitting there for fifteen minutes waiting for him.

Before anyone can say anything else, the door chimes, signaling that someone’s walked in. Mikasa’s face lights up instantly when she sees Eren, and she doesn’t notice the look of hurt that’s cross Jean’s as he sits across the table from her.

Mikasa’s smile turns into a frown once she notices that Eren has you with him. You’ve got on a cropped light blue sweater with some light wash jeans, and the white sneakers you’re wearing have, what she can only assume to be hand painted, blue butterflies. Your makeup is, surprisingly, minimal. Just some light gloss and neutral eyeshadow that has a pop of blue in the inner corner.

Eren has a sheepish half smile on his face as his free hand scratches the back of his neck, “I hope you guys don’t mind, but I invited a, uh, friend to join us,”

You give a shy, half smile and a small wave, “I hope I’m not intruding, I told Eren we could always hang out later. He kind of insisted though,” As you look at Eren, your half smile turns into a dazzling, perfect smile. Eren grins right back at you just as brightly.

Armin goes to speak up, but Mikasa beats him to it, “Well you’re already here. So,” Her tone has everyone’s eyes narrowing in confusion as you look at Eren with a confused grin.

“Of course you’re welcome to eat with us!” Armin interjects before anyone can say anything else can say anything, causing Eren to smile softly at him before shooting a glare Mikasa’s way as he pulls out a chair for you next to Armin and sliding into the chair next to you.

Everyone notices the change in Mikasa’s mood, but no one comments on it. Sasha eyes you from across the table curiously, “Have we met before?”

You tilt your head to the side as you study her, she looks familiar but not enough for you to say you know her. Your eyes avert to the two boys at each of her side before you smile halfheartedly, “Hey you guys are on the football team, right?”

Jean nods as Connie loudly exclaims hell yeah, what about it. You shake your head and look back at Sasha, realization flooding you as you fight back a loud laugh. God, Hitch would have a field day with this one. “You got extremely, and I mean extremely drunk at a party after playoffs last year. Somehow you ended up in the kitchen with me and you kept eating my sandwiches. Even proclaimed your love for me, and offered to, in your words, eat me out for an extra dessert, when I gave you the cookies I had made for some of my friends.”

Jean and Connie bust out laughing at your confession while Sasha’s face heats up in semi-embarrassment. “Oh my god, that’s where that bag of cookies came from?”

Mikasa lets out a scoff at Connie’s words. Of fucking course you bake, just a real Suzie Homemaker. Eren’s head snaps in her direction, before looking over to you to make sure you were still engrossed in conversation with the three across the table; observing the way your eyes light up as you tease Sasha and tell her not to worry, you know you’re easy to fall in love with.

Yeah, you got that right, he thinks to himself.

Averting his attention back to Mikasa, a harsh whisper leaves his mouth, “What the fuck is your problem?” Mikasa’s eyes widen at Eren’s tone. Sure, she’s familiar with Eren’s hotheaded attitude after knowing him her whole life, but she can only count on one hand the number of times it’s been directed at her.

“W-what?” She honestly doesn’t remember what he said. Eren rolls his eyes, annoyed. “What is your problem? You were rude the other morning to her, and now you’re being shitty because Sasha already knows her? What the fuck is your deal?”

From across the table, Jean can tell things are heating up between the two and interjects before they can cause a scene. Despite knowing exactly what they’re arguing, they shouldn’t cause a scene over Mikasa’s one sided feelings in front of you, or in the middle of a restaurant. “Hey, how are your guys’ med school applications going?”

Eren gives Mikasa a look that tells her that their conversation is far from over before turning to Jean and letting out a laugh. “Eh, they’re going on my end, but I only applied to three.”

Your eyes are back on him, brow slightly raised in curiosity. “Oh, which three?” Eren smirks, looking proud of himself and ready to brag, “Harvard, Hopkins, and Stanford.”

His smirk deepens at the impressed look that crosses your face, “Oh, wow! Eren, those are really impressive schools!”

Too engrossed with you, he doesn’t notice the look on Mikasa’s face, but it’s too late and she’s already speaking up. “You didn’t tell me about Harvard and Hopkins?”

Everyone’s eyes are on her, and she tries to cover the distress in her eyes, but everyone notices pretty quickly. Eren’s eyes have confusion in them, “I didn’t know I had to tell you about every school I wanted to apply to?” Sure, it’s nice that they’ve all stuck together this long, but he didn’t expect her to be so upset over the possibility of going to different medical schools. She’s had her heart set on Stanford since she was fifteen anyway.

Your eyes peeking at her over Eren’s shoulder has embarrassment flooding through her, “No, I know. I just thought Stanford was your top pick, is all.” Eren nods, giving her an odd look before turning his body towards you, much like the rest of the table.

Armin speaks up first, awkwardly clearing his throat, “Annie told me you’re an art major?”

An enthusiastic nod comes from you, “Yeah! I plan on going to Italy after I graduate, actually. My mom knows this guy who lives there and he’s an incredible painter. I’d like to spend a summer there to learn from him.”

“That is so cool!” Sasha tells you, “What do you want to do with your degree?” Armin asks you, causing you to frown slightly.

It’s not that you don’t want to work, but you had been with Porco for so long and you guys had plans. He was getting some accounting degree so you could focus on doing things you like, he always told you he would take care of everything else, so long as you are doing something you enjoyed, he couldn’t give a shit. And while the breakup was most definitely for the best, if you’re being honest, you have no idea what you’re going to do with your life.

Both your parents are very empathetic about your situation, and after practically begging you to get out of it and told you multiple times that they’d take care of you no matter what, but you can’t help but feel guilt at the idea of just relying on their money forever. Even if you’ll end up with all of it someday anyway since you’re their only child.

Clearing your throat you look back to Armin and put on a fake smile, “Still to be determined. My mom does some design work, though. So I may work with her for a little bit.” Armin senses he struck a nerve, and before he can say anything else, the waitress comes back to take everyone’s orders.

You order waffle fries and a strawberry milkshake, opting to not embarrass yourself by ordering chicken strips. You would’ve ordered something else, but you didn’t get a chance to google the menu before you got here.

While the rest of your side of the table orders, the ding of the door draws your attention. Seeing Pieck walk in makes you frown, you had forgotten she works her now, not that you know anything about her these days. You’re surprised she even follows you on social media anymore.

Her gaze catches yours, and her eyes widen as she nearly runs into a table trying to get away from your line of sight. You have to refrain from letting out a huff of laughter, god how fucking pathetic. You’re so upset over someone who can’t even look at you? Fuck that and fuck her. Pieck was supposed to be one of your best friends, and sure, she was friends with him first, but you weren’t the only one who got treated like absolute fucking garbage by him. And she’s going to side with him?

Eren senses your mood has dampened slightly, and throws his arm around your shoulders, impulsively nuzzling his nose in your neck. A laugh bubbles out of your mouth at his actions, despite the fact that you try to hold it in.

Your laughter draws Pieck’s attention from the back where she’s hiding, guilt and longing consuming her body. Leaning against the wall, she takes a deep breath as she thinks about how badly she misses you, about how badly she fucked up. She wonders if you think she took Pock’s side in your breakup, and she wishes she could tell you that she hasn’t talked to him since two days after you broke up with him. She just can’t face you, what she did was bad enough. The sad thing is she knows that if she would’ve told you what happened after it had happened, you probably would have forgiven her.

Wiping her face, she sighs and pulls herself together so she can get to work, hoping she can ignore you and the stupid guy that’s latched onto you. What she can’t help but notice is the girl sitting next to him has the same look on her face that she knows she has on her own. Interesting.

Sasha and Connie’s eyes light up when you offer to make the cookies for them again, actually for them this time. The comment causes Sasha to flush in embarrassment despite the teasing wink you send her way.

Eren can’t help but feel his chest warm slightly at the fact you get along with his friends so well practically instantly.

Mikasa’s frown seems almost permanent at this point. Her heart hurts that the one person she wishes would notice doesn’t. The only person that notices is the one she wishes wouldn’t.

εїз

A few hours later, Mikasa is sitting in the living room of their apartment as she goes over advanced organic chemistry notes when Eren walks into the apartment. Trying to seem nonchalant, she doesn’t react despite the anxiety creeping up her chest, knowing he’s still upset about what happened at the diner this afternoon.

Eren does his best to ignore her, extremely hurt by her attitude earlier. He can’t fathom why she would act like that, especially when you were nothing but extremely nice during lunch, and the awkward car ride yesterday morning.

When minutes go by of him not saying anything, she thinks he may actually be seriously mad at her for her behavior. Armin walks out of his room before she can go confront him, asking him about you.

She doesn’t have it in her to listen to their conversation, trying to tune out what she does hear.

I really like her man, but she hasn’t been single long, she wants to take things slow.

Well I think you should lay your feelings on the table.

Coming from you? No offense, but Annie didn’t even know you existed until July.

Yeah, because I reached out to her during our summer class, telling her I liked her.

She tunes out the rest of the conversation, not wanting to listen anymore. She stares at the chemistry definitions and equations until she hears the door to the apartment slam and Armin goes back to his room.

εїз

Hitch walks into the apartment not long after you get home from lunch, sighing loudly before throwing herself on the couch and laying her head in your lap.

“Today was the worst,” She whines while your hum in acknowledgement, sticking your hand in her hair to rub her scalp.

“Agreed,” Her hand finds yours that’s in her hair, lacing her fingers with yours while she looks up at you with a pout. “Why was your day bad?”

A small huff leaves you as you set your phone down, “Eren’s friend seemed less than pleased to have to deal with them having to bring me home yesterday morning, and then today at lunch she seemed pretty mad about my presence.”

Hitch glances up at you with a raised brow, “I could’ve picked you up, but why would that still be bothering you today?”

You shrug before looking down at her, “I don’t know, I mean it’s not like Eren and I have anything but some tension. But I think I like him, I’ve only known him for like, two days though so,”

Hitch rolls her eyes, “Hun, you were with Porco for almost five years, and you were absolutely miserable for two of them. I’m not saying get into an immediate relationship with Eren, but if you like him, you should go out with him.”

Looking down at her with emotion swirling your chest, guilt creeping in, “But won’t it make me a bad person? Jumping into another possible relationship? Situationship?” Whatever it may be, you think to yourself.

Hitch is completely baffled at the thought, because you both know that Porco has been hooking up with girls left and right since coming back to school; a few of them having the nerve to dm you on social media in an attempt to brag. Not that you cared, if anything you’re desperate for him to move on.

She scoffs and sits up and grips your shoulders in her hands, fingers digging in almost painfully. “God no, and fuck anyone who thinks that.”

Despite her attempt at reassuring you, it doesn’t help much. Porco didn’t take your breakup well, at all. He spent two days sleeping on your parent’s porch hoping you would talk to him before your dad threatened to call the cops. The relationship wasn’t good, but you just didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already is.

And you really don’t want him to try to hurt Eren.

“Why was your day bad?” Curiosity laces your voice. From the looks of her snapchat story last night, she had plenty of fun with Marlo after you left the party.

Groaning, she nuzzles herself back into her neck, “Stupid Marlo.”

Hitch and Marlo have been doing the off and on thing since they met freshman year at orientation. He wasn’t your favorite of Hitch’s boyfriends; you’re honestly surprised she never ended up with Colt.

For whatever reason, she really, really likes Marlo and quickly became attached to him, so you tolerate him like any best friend would. The past year has been weird for them, he’s so back and forth, indecisive about what he wants since graduation is coming up soon.

Running your fingers through her hair you let a sigh leave your mouth. She deserves better.

Lost in her own thoughts, Hitch makes a mental note to stalk all of Eren Jeager and his friends tonight. Just to be safe, she tells herself.

εїз

After Eren rushed out of the apartment, Mikasa immediately went and spent the next few hours lying in bed on her phone. At first she was just trying to distract herself with twitter, but then she ended up on instagram. On instagram, she finds herself on Annie’s page, and Annie’s page leads her to an old picture that you tagged her in. 

The picture isn’t anything special, it looks like it’s from Annie’s nineteenth birthday, captioned with a simple black heat. It’s just the two of you, your cheeks pressed against each other’s while you smile brightly. Mikasa can tell that this was before you really started experimenting with makeup a whole lot, because your face is nearly bare.

She locks her phone and turns over, facing the wall as she takes deep breaths. She isn’t sure why she’s so fucking upset. You aren’t the first girl that’s managed to catch Eren’s eye, and you’re not the first girl he’s brought to their apartment either.

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s never heard Eren talk about a girl the way he does you. Or maybe it’s the fact that even before you spoke to him, he noticed everything about you.

Maybe it’s the way that deep down she knows no matter how hard she tried, Eren would probably never look at her the way she’s seen him look at you this week. His eyes would never light up when talking about her the way they do when he talks about you.

What was so special about you? Would he even have noticed you at all if he wouldn’t have been a TA for that stupid chemistry class?

Was it because of the way you dressed? Did he prefer your soft and pastel wardrobe to her nearly entirely black and navy one? Or maybe it was the way you styled your hair, that could definitely be it, right? No, no, there’s nothing about you that even stands out that much. You’re not even the type that he usually goes for.

Frustration courses through her veins the longer her mind thinks about it. There isn’t anything special about you, you’re no better than her. So why does he want you so badly? Why, why, why? Why hasn’t he ever wanted her?

Eren’s been her best friend since elementary school, along with Armin of course. She’s always loved him, always. Why doesn’t he love her the way she loves him?

She doesn’t even realize she’s crying until she feels the tears streaking down her neck and her sobs reach her own ears, god, she wants to throw up. She’s never been like this.

Sighing, she picks it up to find an instagram notification. pieck.finger is now following you!

Curiosity gets the better of her and she decides to look at her profile, only to find dozens of photos that include you, all the way up to her latest post which was dated July 9th. You’re wearing a very skimpy black two piece that barely covers anything and Pieck is clinging to your right side. In the background of the picture, Mikasa makes out Porco Galliard’s features that have a heated glare directed towards the two of you.

She continues scrolling, not even bothering to wipe the tears off her face, a few of her pictures are just candid selfies, pictures with a cat, and group pictures that include Colt Grice, Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Hoover, and of course Porco. There are also a few with you, Historia, and Hitch. The more she scrolls, the more she notices a lot of her pictures are of just the two of you, and she’s always got the same look on her face when she’s looking at you. Interesting. 

εїз

Standing in front of your door, Eren’s mind, and chest, are running a mile a minute. He definitely should’ve called you first, and he knows he should’ve.

It’s after midnight and he’s not even sure if you’re awake still, but after talking with Armin, he knows it can’t wait.  

Exhaling a deep breath, Eren knocks on the front door to your apartment, sticking his hands in his pockets while he waits for an answer. He thinks his heart might give out when you do finally answer, you’ve got on a satin pink pajama set with a loose braid in your hair. You always look so pretty, so fucking pretty.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you look at him, “Eren? It’s late, is everything alright? I wasn’t expecting you,”

He nods quickly, hoping to reassure you as he takes a deep breath, “Yeah, I just, well you know,” Fuck this is going to be harder than he thought

Relief fills you and a small laugh leaves you as you shake your head, “I know?”

He sighs, and a slight frown takes over his features, “I just felt like I needed to come over here before I lost the courage,”

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you frown slightly, “Lose the courage to what?”

Eren bites his lip, “I know I said I can take things slow. That we can take things slow,” you nod, biting your own lip causing him to groan.

“I want you so bad, not just in a sexual way. I just want you, and if you really want to wait then I can wait. I just want you to know that even if you still need time, I’m all in. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I really, really like you. I’ve had the biggest crush on you since last semester when you walked into Hange’s chem class,”

A hand runs through his hair as he sighs, “I just really fucking like you. And I know you just got out of a relationship a few months ago and want to take things slow, but I just don’t want someone else to come in and sweep you off your feet. “

Grabbing your hand in his own he laces your fingers together, “I just want you to be mine and we take things slow from there.”

Eren’s eyes are staring deeply into your own as he studies your reaction, the green in his eyes is extremely vivid in the hall light for some reason. Your mouth is dry as you take in everything he said, trying to decide what the best response is.

Because, god, do you like him. And him saying everything he just said makes you like him even more, plus your talk with Hitch gave you a lot to think about. Why should you continue to let Porco’s possible feelings dictate you and what you do? You aren’t his anymore. You’re just yours.

Thinking your silence is him misunderstanding what’s been building between the two of you for the past couple days, he takes a step back and drops your hand, causing you to frown, “Eren-“

“No, uh, it’s cool. I just, I think I misread this.” Turning around, he makes his way towards the elevator so he can go wallow in self-pity and insecurities, but your hand on his wrist stops him.

“I don’t think you misread anything.” Between your fingers wrapped around his wrist, where he knows his pulse is thumping erratically and deeply, and the soft tone in your voice, your words have him unable to move.

Gently, you tug his arm, turning his body back towards you. His eyes meet yours again, before they glance down to your lips and then back up again, noticing your eyes are on his lips. A shaky breath leaves his mouth, fanning over your face as your eyes close slightly. “Well, are you planning to kiss me? Or are we just going to stand here all night?”

He lets out a laugh at your words, before leaning down and connecting his mouth with your slightly opened one. His tongue lightly traces against your bottom lip as your arms link around his neck to pull him closer to you. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip, causing him to groan deep in the back of his throat. Hands grip your hips through the satin shorts tightly, but not tight enough to bruise.

He pulls away, hands reaching up to hold your face as he leans in again. He smiles against your lips as he feels you tugging him towards your apartment, praying your roommate out so he can fuck you like you deserve.

εїз

The past month has been the worst month of Mikasa’s life.

You and Eren have been inseparable; during the very rare moment the two of you aren’t together, he talks on and on about you. He didn’t even go home with her for fall break like they had planned on doing, instead he surprised you with an air bnb for that whole week in Maine.

Not to mention, you’ve also gotten into the habit of staying at their apartment half the week, which means that she wakes up to you moaning Eren’s name while she listens to the sounds of your skin slapping together, comes home to you straddling him on the couch.

It’s been damn near fucking torture, having to listen to your quiet, breathy moans through the thin wall that separates her room from Eren’s. Having to walk into the apartment and see you two eating some sort of food she knows Eren would never eat if he had any say in it.

Eren, above all else, has always been a creature of habit. Now it seems all those habits involve you. He’s melded his own, however messy it was, schedule to fit your own. He wakes up earlier so he can watch you get ready for the day, a small section of his closet has a few of your own articles of clothing while a drawer in his dresser holds your underwear and sleepwear. He’s also started eating three actual meals a day instead of an energy drink before class, leftover pizza at three when he gets home, and whatever Armin would cook for dinner at eleven before he fell asleep. No, now he eats some sort of breakfast with you, he eats lunch with you, and you’ve taken on helping Armin cook dinner in the evenings you stay at their apartment or ordering some sort of overpriced food that none of them have ever heard of when no one wants to cook. He also uses different soaps; they smell a lot better than the stuff he was using. Mikasa has to admit his hair has been looking softer the past couple of weeks.

The nail in the coffin for her was when you had class later than him one afternoon, so he went and bought new, softer, sheets for his bed. He’s used the same sheets since they moved into this apartment and now all of a sudden he wants new ones? When she had asked him about it, all he had told her was that it was time for a nice change, ‘s all.

It also doesn’t help that you’re friends get along really fairly well with their friend group, so weekly meet ups that used to be between Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Connie, Jean, Sasha, and Marco also now include you, Hitch, Historia, and Ymir. It’s almost like your groups have melded into one. Almost, but not really.

You’re like a parasite that’s not only infected Eren, but everything about her life.

Ymir is probably the one Mikasa could get along with the most, she’s the most laid back out of the four of you. Historia and Hitch are a different story, they’re fiercely protective of you and don’t seem to like her very much. She wonders if they’ve managed to notice something Eren’s been so oblivious to all the years in the few times they’ve joined in on game night.

She imagines that the three of you were mean girls in high school. It definitely fit; three pretty, rich, cheerleaders who don’t socialize with people out of their inner circle of friends. At least that’s what she likes to think, partially due to the harsh glares Hitch sends her when she thinks no one is looking, the other side of her likes to think that because, well pretty, rich, snobby cheerleaders.

Mikasa grew up in a well off family, but your dad is one of the best anesthesiologists in the country and you’re mom not only comes from an extremely rich family but is also an incredible designer. So while Mikasa definitely had a great home life, you’ve never heard the word no in yours.

Evidently, it seems like Eren can’t tell you no either, since he’s bought twelve dozen flowers in the past three weeks and taken you out on eleven dates since you two became official.

He loves taking you out, showing you off. Showing people that you’re his. Especially the guys on the football team when their hanging out with Jean and Connie because he knows it’ll get back to good ole Galliard.

More than anything else, she’s hurt. She, Eren, and Armin used to do everything together and spent so much time together, and now they both have girlfriends. She just feels alone.

While this has been the worst month of Mikasa’s life, Eren thinks it’s been the best month of his.

He’s loved spending the past month getting to learn everything there is to know about you and teaching you everything there is to know about him. You two have spent every possible minute together since he showed up at your doorstep early that Friday morning.

He doesn’t think he’s ever met someone so incredible. He truly has never enjoyed someone as much as he enjoys you, he enjoys you so much he has literally watched you watch paint dry and all he could think about was how good you looked in the lighting, the way the sun was hitting your face while you patiently waited for the green to dry so you could put the blue over it.

Sure, his mom was pretty upset that he bailed on fall break, but when he told her that he was going to spend it with a girl, she had been ecstatic.

Carla was starting to get worried that he would never settle down. When Mikasa had come by their house to visit, Carla threw questions at her about you. How you met Eren, what you were like, if she could show her a photo of the two of you.

Mikasa relented, loving Carla too much to not show her you. She wasn’t too sure if you even had photos of the two of you on social media, but the second her instagram loaded to her feed a picture of you and Eren with big smiles on your faces. Eren had on a black nike hat sitting backwards on his head, hair pulled back in its signature bun while you’re face is pressed up against his, pretty eyeliner lining your eyes with a lilac color sitting at your inner corner.

Carla had squealed in excitement when Mikasa hesitantly turned the phone around to show her the photo that Eren had simple captioned with a simple black heart. Gushing about how beautiful you are and how happy Eren looks and how good you two look next to each other.

Mikasa left pretty quickly after that.

That trip to Maine was the best last minute decision he could think of, but it ended up being one of the greatest ideas he ever had. You two spent a whole week just the two of you, eating fancy over-priced food that Eren knew his father would be livid about once he saw the credit card bill for this month, took fancy bubble baths in a ridiculously large bathtub, and Eren also got to take you to a few fancy museums. Not that he would ever admit it, but the museums were purely self-indulgent, he just wanted to listen to you ramble about all the different types of art, hear which ones you liked the most and why. He really just likes listening to you talk, honestly.

Currently you and Eren are curled up on the couch discussing Halloween costumes to wear for the party one of the frats is hosting tonight. Eren thinks you guys should be a doctor and sexy nurse, typical. But you’re insisting that you have to keep up with the original costume idea that you, Hitch, and Historia already have planned out. Telling him that you thought the costumes were hot and a good idea!

“I’m just sayin’, angels are pretty basic, baby.” Eren tells you for the third time causing you to groan, “Well, for one, we’re going to be sexy angels and two, we always dress up together! I can’t just bail.”

You have a valid argument, from what is on your instagram page, the three of you have done costumes together since middle school, which is over a decade. Last year the three of you were the powerpuff girls, given you were the powerpuff girls in lingerie, but powerpuff girls, nonetheless.

“Oh! You could be the devil! It would be perfect; we could be dressed up together and I don’t have to change my costume! It’s a win-win!”

With how excited you sound; one could assume that you just solved world hunger or something. Which Eren definitely believes you could. You’re a lot smarter than everyone seems to give you credit for.

“Oh yeah, a big bad devil looking to taint a pretty, innocent little angel,” Eren’s voice drops to a low, seductive tone. Hand reaching down to creep at the hem of the pretty, lavender satin shorts you’re wearing under one of his t-shirts.

“Oh, most definitely,” You play along as his hand moves from the hem to the waistband, tracing the dainty lace that he knows is black.

“Mhm, too bad I don’t have anything to wear,” You roll your eyes and huff on a sharp laugh.

“Eren, all you need to wear is black jeans and a black t-shirt. That’s nearly all you we-“

He cuts you off when he sinks his teeth into your neck and his fingers dip into your panties, “E-eren!”

His middle finger traces your clit, applying barely any pressure as he lightly circles the sensitive bud. Relishing in the way your body has come to react to him.

Just as he’s about to pull your pants off and go to town, your phone rings causing you both to groan loudly, a cry of frustration leaving your mouth as he pulls his hand from your panties to grab your phone from the coffee table to give you.

“Hitch, I swear to go-“

Eren doesn’t hear the whole conversation, he doesn’t really need to, knowing that Hitch is probably just calling to make sure that she and Historia can still come over to get ready for the party since Eren offered to drive you guys because Ymir has to work later than she planned.

“Oh? You’re in the parking lot? I thought we said six?” Eren sighs and stands up, adjusting his pants as he goes to prepare his room for whatever it may be about to witness. He wouldn’t ever complain about your friends, especially since they love you as much as they do. But this is definitely not the first time Hitch has shown up when you two are about to fuck.

“I’m really sorry about this,” You start apologizing, knowing he’s about to be kicked out of his room so you three can get ready.

“No! Don’t be, I offered after all,” He laughs and scratches the back of his neck, the last thing he wants is for you to feel unwanted in his home.

You give him a sheepish smile, a slight glint in your eyes as your hold up the bag with your costume, “To make up for taking over your room, you wanna help me put this on?”

Green eyes suspiciously look at the bag, taking it from your hand and opening it, he has to bite his lip to hold in the groan he’s about to let out when he sees the heaps of white lace.

“You’re killing me, baby.”

εїз

Eren’s definitely basking in the fact that you and you’re friends have taken over his bedroom. He feels like a real boyfriend, having been kicked out of his room so the three of you can get ready.

Armin and Annie are dressed as some couple from the show they watch together, but they look cute together as they sit on the couch while listening to Eren ramble about your costume that he helped you put on before your friends got there.

“Is Mikasa going?” Annie asks off handedly as she looks between Armin and Eren. Annie isn’t stupid, she knows Mikasa’s been feeling lonely and left out. It makes her feel bad, knowing that even though Mikasa is more hurt because of Eren, Armin being busy is also affecting her.

Eren shrugs while Armin answers, “She had said something about not having anything to wear, so I don’t know,”

Speak of the devil and they shall appear, because Mikasa walks out of her room the second Armin says that.

She’s got on a black and red plaid skirt that she’s pulled up a few inches, and a white button up that’s tied above her navel. She looks kind of like Britney Spears in the ‘baby one more time’ video. She’s also got on a lot less makeup that normal, which causes the three on the couch to do a double take.

“You look great!” “Wow,” “You look different?”

Annie cuts Eren a sharp glance as his words come out more as a question than a compliment, and Mikasa twitches uncomfortably under their stares.

Before anyone else can say anything, you walk out of Eren’s room wearing a white lacy lingerie set, a pretty white robe . The lace sits pretty on your skin and your hair is curled nicely. Pretty gold and white liner lines your eyes, with sparkly pink gloss makes your lips shine. The little halo headband you have on pulls the whole look together.

“Oh wow!” Eren’s eyes on you as he stands, taking your hand and twirling you around so he can get a full look, as if he didn’t see you in it just a little bit ago when he helped you get it on.

Mikasa’s eyes are wide with a bit of shock, her voice speaking her thoughts before she can catch herself, “That’s what you’re wearing?”

Eren’s head snaps towards hers, eyes dark when he sees the judgmental look on her face. “What’s wrong with what she’s wearing?”

Mikasa let’s out a slight laugh, not realizing how upset her is by her statement, “Well, I mean, it’s literally just lingerie? You’re gonna let her go to a part dressed like that?”

Before anyone can say anything else, Hitch walks in with Historia at her tail, eyebrows raised as Eren responds, “It’s Halloween, I really don’t see a problem, Miks.”

Hitch and Historia are both standing next to you, wearing near identical outfits, waiting to see how the next few minutes are going to play out.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just saying you’ll probably just catch some attention.” Armin winces at her word choice and goes to speak up before things can get any worse.

“Hey now-“

“Even if there was a problem with what she’s wearing, it’s none of your fucking business. She looks great and worst case scenario I have to knock someone out.”

Eren’s tone has you shift uncomfortably as Mikasa scoffs at him, “Eren, don’t be rid-“

“End of discussion, Mikasa.”

Hitch, though loving his response, coughs awkwardly at the tension rising in the room, “Well, as amusing as this has been, Ymir is already on her way to the party so we should head that way.”

Historia nods in agreement, reaching for her phone to text Ymir that you guys are about to head that way.

Armin sighs and stands, “Who all is riding with me?”

“Mikasa can ride with you.” Eren doesn’t hesitate with his words as he hands you his keys and tell you to go start that car, he’s just gonna go get his horns and then you guys can go. You awkwardly give Mikasa a half smile before you, Hitch, and Historia walks out of the apartment, and Mikasa rolls her eyes in annoyance.

Eren looks at her, shaking his head in disappointment, “You don’t have to fucking like her, but you have got to fucking respect her, Mikasa. Basically slut shaming her and her friends? Seriousl?”

He doesn’t give her time to respond before he’s walking out of the room, slamming the front door as he leaves.

Armin gives Mikasa a pity filled look before shaking his head, “What you said was unnecessary.” With that he grabs Annie’s hand and leads her out of the apartment. Mikasa sighs before following after them, slight guilt gnawing at her.

εїз

The party is in full swing by the time you guys walk in, Historia rushing to find Ymir while Hitch goes to see if Marlo ever showed up. You and Eren elect to go find drinks in the kitchen, Eren promising to limit himself to one beer so you can have a good time with your friends.

He’s got his hand on your waist, flaunting you and your pretty self to everyone there. It’s an ego boost knowing that people want you, and they’re more than welcome to want. But only he can touch you.

You, lost in your own world of Eren, don’t notice the looks you’re getting. The hair sticks up on the back of your neck when you see Porco with Reiner playing beer pong out of the corner of your eye, but Eren keeps pulling you along to the kitchen. Not even letting you pay attention to him as Eren sends him a cocky smirk and wave.

After a few drinks you manage to find your way back to Historia and Hitch, the later grinning and pulling you into her when she sees you. “Oh my gooood! I thought Eren was going to hold you hostage all night!”

Historia nods in agreement at your friend’s typical over-dramatic drunk self. “Yeah! We should go dance!”

You look back to Eren, eyebrows slightly raised as he smiles at you, nodding for you to go ahead as he takes your cup. “I’ll just hang out with Ymir,” He tilts his head over to her, standing in the corner glaring at anyone who looks at Historia for too long.

You smile back brightly, kissing his check before running off with your friends.

Mikasa regrets coming to the party. The schoolgirl getup she’s wearing doesn’t really look any different than what she normally wears, just a lot less material, and she’s practically alone since Annie and Armin came together. Sure, Sasha and the other guys are here, but she wishes Eren was here with her.

She’s been drinking since they got to the party, regret swimming deep inside her as she remembers how upset with her Eren was as he was leaving for the party.

Jean’s been trying to get her attention all night, and if she were in a better mood maybe she would have indulged him a little so she could have some validation that while the one she wants may not want her, but someone does.

It makes her feel sick, knowing she would stoop so low to get some validation from someone who has genuine feelings for her, but she can’t help it. Being wanted by someone feels good, even if you don’t want them.

Instead, she watches Eren from across the room as he stands next to Ymir, the two of them holding yours and Historia’s cups, talking to her while they watch you, Hitch, and Historia dance and grind on each other.

She wonders if it makes him hard, the way you dance with your friends. You’re facing Historia with her hands on your hips, toying with the pretty tulle fabric that sits there with thigh sitting in between your own while Hitch is at your back, right up against your ass while her hands sit at the pretty lace at your ribcage. Head leaning back into Hitch, your one hand travels in front of you to the back of Historia’s while the other goes behind you to rest at Hitch’s nape.

Mikasa feels her underwear damped slightly with arousal, much to her confusion, as she watches the three of you, eyes unmoving from your bodies as it becomes harder to tell where one beings and the other ends. She wonders what it would be like to be sandwiched between you and Historia right now, if she would feel heat coming from your own core’s as she danced between the two of you. Or maybe to be in between you and Hitch, she wonders where your hands would be on her if she were stuck between you and your best friend, if they’d be on her at all.

He’ll fuck you tonight, well he fucks you every night. But the way he’s looking at you now, you and Mikasa both know he’ll be fucking you tonight until your too dumb to even think about anything other than the way his cock makes you feel.

“Um, wow,” She hears Jean say. She doesn’t have to look up to know he’s talking about the three of you, practically everyone at the party is watching.

Annie hums and looks over at you guys before back over to the group, “Oh, they’re always like that. It used to bother the fuck out of Galliard, especially on nights like tonight when they’d be dressed like that. I bet Reiner’s about to cream his pants if he’s here and can see.”

Connie gulps slightly, eyes not moving, “This, uh, this happens often?”

Annie snorts, “All the fucking time.”

“Oh.” “Nice.” Marco and Sasha speak up at the same time, it’s no secret that Sasha definitely has a little crush on you.

“I guess. It’s nice to that Eren isn’t getting pissed off, though.” Annie seems genuinely happy about that, for some odd reason, but Mikasa tunes out the rest of the conversation as her eyes move to Eren.

Armin lets out a laugh, “Yeah, like Eren would go put a stop to that.”

Annie looks up at him, genuine curiosity seeping through her blue eyes, “Is Eren a cuck?” Connie nearly spits out his drink while listening to Armin try to clear up the confusion he may have just caused.

“So, uh, not to be like, well that guy or anything. But have the three of them, ever, well you know?” Ymir’s dark eyes move from Historia to Eren’s, a teasing smirk on her face and eyebrows raised.

“Oh, absolutely.” Her answer causes Eren to choke on air. With wide eyes he looks at the three of you and then back to Ymir in question

She laughs and rolls her eyes, “Oh my god, no! They haven’t all three had some insane, incredibly sexy three way.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, not for sure if he would be able to compete with someone like Hitch for your affections. Historia, obviously, is in love with Ymir so she is something he wouldn’t have to worry about, but Hitch? She knows you better than anyone else, she knows everything there is to know about the ins and outs of you.

“Right, no. Of course not.” Ymir laughs at him in slight mockery before looking back at the three of you. “They’ve definitely made out, though.”

“Right.” Eren has to physically shake his head to get the thought out of his mind before he excuses himself from Ymir to make his way over to you.

Your eyes light up when they find his green eyes that are currently dark with an emotion you’ve become all too familiar with the past month.

“Hey, pretty,” You worm your way out of Hitch’s hold and launch yourself at Eren as if you hadn’t seen him for days.

“Hi!” He smiles fondly at you, “Are you having fun?”

You nod, “Oh, yes! The most!”

As glad as he is that you’re having a good time, he’s getting really fucking hard. Given, he’s been half-hard since you showed him what your costume is, but seeing you dance with your friends the way you were made it damn near worse.

Leaning close so his mouth his by your ear, “Come with me for a few?”

Though comes out as a question, you know better and nod excitedly as you let him pull you upstairs to an empty bathroom.

Eren has you sitting on the counter before the door even closes all the way, hand immediately going to the back of your neck to pull your mouth to his. His kiss is just the right amount of rough, tongue rolling with your own after his teeth bite at your bottom lip.

You whimper lightly as he pulls away to trail wet and sloppy kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw and then to your neck.

He bites down when you shift your hips to grind against his denim clad cock, trying to hold in a groan while your own voice goes up in pitch due to the friction of the denim and lace against your throbbing clit.

He peels your panties off of you as he pulls his head from your neck. He quickly presses his mouth back to yours as your hands make work of his belt, drunkenly trying to pull it from the buckle as he distracts you with his tongue.

He pulls away just enough to laugh at your frustration as he helps you with his belt, then pulling his pants down just enough for his hard cock to spring free, one hand moving to your waist to pull you closer to him as the other one works itself up and down his cock to try to relive some of the tension.

“Can you be quiet for me? I can’t wait, but if you’re good I’ll make it better when we get home,”

You nod, head buzzing with lust and alcohol but the submissive gaze in your eyes is still there. Eren likes that you’re like this. Submissive, wanting to please him, wanting him to please you, but just taking whatever he gives you with a bright smile.

Shifting you, he moves your body, so you ass hangs off the edge of the counter and spreads your legs a little wider so he can place his body between them. Pretty lace hangs off of your left ankle as you bend your knee slightly to help give Eren a better angle of your clenching cunt, shining with arousal that’s been brewing since your fun was interrupted earlier.

He guides his cock into you, groaning at the way you clench down on him as he pushes his way inside you. He knows he should’ve prepped you a little first, but he just can’t help it.

The sharp pain causes tears to well in your eyes as his cock bullies its way into your tight cunt. Eren tries to hush you when little cries come out of your mouth, but his own groans are almost louder than your noises your making.

He can’t help himself; your cunt is clenching down on him so tightly as he slowly works his way in and out.

The pain starts melting into pleasure after a few minutes, whines laced with pain turning into sharp gasps of pleasure. Your legs tighten their grip on his torso, signaling for him to move faster, to fuck you deeper. Eren, being the giver he is, does just that.

The sounds of your skin slapping together is drowned out by the music downstairs, but Mikasa can hear it clearly as she stands outside the bathroom door with her ear pressed against it. She isn’t sure why she’s doing this to herself, listening to Eren moan your name while he fucks your sloppy cunt, as he calls it.

She isn’t sure why she continues to listen as your moans get louder, signaling your orgasm, she doesn’t know why she continues listening as Eren’s thrusts get audibly louder as he fucks you harder and faster, trying to fuck you through your orgasm.

She especially doesn’t know why she continues to listen when Eren starts moaning, telling you how he’s going to fuck you so full of his cum and you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.

Mikasa isn’t sure why she does the things she does, but she finds herself back in Jean’s presence after watching you leave with Eren right after fucking in the bathroom. Giving your friends the excuse that you’re feeling tired and want to go lie down.

She especially doesn’t know why she does what she does when she lets Jean fuck her again, and she yet again lets the guilt eat at her when she hears him mumble to himself that he loves her.

εїз

When Mikasa comes back into the apartment, she finds you in the kitchen. She wants to die, and not deal with you right now, but you think that this might be the perfect moment to try and clear the air between the two of you, since you’re fairly certain Mikasa doesn’t like you.

You smile at Mikasa softly from across the kitchen, “I don’t think you like me much, do you?”

Discomfort rises in her as she shifts awkwardly on her feet, eye’s not moving from your own and you take a sip of water from Eren’s favorite cup.

“What would give you that impression?”

You bite back a laugh at her, “Not to be rude, it’s kind of obvious. But I get it!”

Her eyes widen. Do you get it? Do you actually really? Get it? Do you know that she’s in love with her best friend. Your boyfriend.

“You do?” It’s quiet, and you almost don’t hear her, had it not been for you seeing her mouth move in the soft glow of the refrigerator light you wouldn’t have notice she responded at all.

“Oh, most definitely! As a best friend, it’s your job to protect him from anyone who may be bad news. I do that for Hitch and Historia. And it’s really understandable! I know Eren’s never had a serious girlfriend or anything like this before, so I get you being weary of me,”

She has to tune out the rest of your stupid blabbering. You really don’t get it.

Part of her wishes that you did know; that you did hate her for loving your boyfriend. She wishes that you would tell Eren how much you hate her, that she isn’t a good friend for him, to try and drive a wedge between their twenty some odd years of friendship.

She wishes you would show him your true colors so he would hate you as much as she does.

“but yeah, I really do like him, Mikasa. He’s really good to me and I think we make each other really happy.” The fondness in your voice when you speak to him makes her snap her attention back to you, and she has to fight an eyeroll when she looks back at you and sees you smiling at her, a hopeful shine in your pretty eyes.

She doesn’t know what comes over her when she says her next words, “Well, like you said, Eren doesn’t really do girlfriends. So, I imagine whatever infatuation he has with you will wear off sometime soon. I think you give him too much credit, it’s only been, like a month anyway.”

This bitch, you think to yourself as your gaze hardens slightly. A feeling rising in your chest that you’re unfamiliar with as you bite your lip, “Okay.”

Mikasa quietly watches as you take the mug, dump the remaining water out before setting it in the sink, turn around and leave the kitchen.

“Good night, Mikasa.”

And before she knows it, she’s alone again. While you’re in bed waiting for Eren.

[were-changing-cake-vaults]

Doc is really, really, really tired of getting dragged into things.

That’s the problem with this server: he tries to do his own thing, but people cannot leave him alone. No matter what he does to deter them, whether that be harmless threat or psychological warfare, they always come back to dance on his metaphorical lawn. Or actual lawn. Or precious one-of-a-kind bush.

And at this point, he thought he had gotten used to all the shenanigans. He doesn’t want to be the grumpy old man amongst his friends and colleagues, so Doc tries to laugh it off, not take it so seriously. Occasionally, he’ll even join in on the jokes and put a little extra pizzazz into his mannerisms. Doc has his limits, of course, everyone does, but he’s been working on pushing those limits further for the past while.

So when Beef makes the joke about Big Salmon on day one, he joins in on it for the moment. It’s a good joke, really. It gets a hearty laugh out of him more than once. The joke is made, people laugh, Doc is included, he moves on and goes back to doing his own thing.

Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. The joke should’ve been a one-and-done, forgotten after a week’s time. Whatever he said should’ve been inconsequential. Should be. Beef’s not one to drag out a bit for that long, usually, but here he is, dressed as a salmon and saying he got emails from a fish. Doc is utterly clueless throughout most of it- he doesn’t even understand what constituted him getting dragged in this time. And the way Beef and Skizz are talking is scaring him, just a little bit. Skizz is too aggressive, Beef is laying down the charmspeak, and both of their eyes are glossy and strange. There’s a hollow echo in the room.

But Doc, absurd as this is, plays along. Watches as one of his villagers gets killed. Lets nervous laughter through as he’s given 10 salmon heads, and leaves. When he gets back to his base out in the middle of nowhere, he realizes that these aren’t normal salmon heads, they’re worse: deformed, many-eyed, slimy and reeking of rot. And while this isn’t the strangest thing Doc has seen, as far as he knows, Beef isn’t one for game-breaking like he is. The deformities on the heads don’t even look player made. Whatever this is, it’s bizaarre, and it’s not something Doc wants to be involved in.

Then the whispers start.

He doesn’t do what he’s asked—build a shrine for whatever Big Salmon is—initially. He lets it be for a bit, shrugs it off, and keeps building. But it’s hard to focus when you can’t sleep—in his dreams he’s drowning, sinking deeper and deeper, sea life surrounding him and screaming and he’s screaming too as a pair of eyes stare him down—and when you can’t get a moment of quiet. He keeps hearing that damn slapping sound and little nothings about shrine schematics, block pallets, glorious statues. The air starts reeking of rot, far more than a swamp should. Strange slime crawls up the scaffolding that he keeps slipping on.

And this is why Doc is tired: Big Salmon is not his first rodeo. This isn’t the first time something has grabbed hold of his soul and tried to puppeteer it to his own demise. This isn’t even the scariest thing he’s come across- he still dreams of watching himself rip his own arm off. He knows gods and entities like he knows redstone, all the intricacies of magic that weave through the universe. They want to be satisfied, satiated. Doc will not give whatever Big Salmon is that satisfaction, not for long.

So he puts up with the rot, the slime, the dreams. Keeps the salmon heads, perpetually grotesque, in a chest where he can see them. Gives them a minuscule in: blueprints are crafted of the shrine he is meant to build, dying leaves are placed and waterlogged, copper is bent and formed into a worthless statue. The sky is cloudy. The sky has been cloudy all week, swamp air thick with the smell of rotting fish. He gives Beef a call, tells him to bring Skizz along.

When what should be Doc’s friend arrives, he is more fish than man. The tinnitus-like whisper of the thing trying to get him reaches a roar as he gives Beef a look over- there is no telling where the suit ends and the skin begins, all scaled, slimy and opalescent. Skizz, on the contrary, is looking relatively normal; the only strange thing about him are his glazed over eyes. Something about that makes Doc queasy about his plan, but he swallows the bile rising in his throat and steels himself, forces himself to be calm. This is not his first rodeo.

Doc’s faked smile doesn’t fail him as he leads Beef and Skizz to the statue. It doesn’t fail him as he hands the last rotting head to Beef for him to place, on top of an over-polished button. His grin only widens as Skizz counts down his boss pressing the button.

With a single button press, the voices that have taken residence in Doc’s head are wiped out, as are Skizz and Beef: bloody…fish…bits fly high into the sky when they fall into the exploding trap. There is a deafening boom, and then there is Doc, unscathed, laughing wickedly, organic eye sparkling with mania. Gods never win against him. There is no winning against the goat.

And finally, with the threat of Big Salmon defeated, Doc can finally rest. After all, he is incredibly tired.

[lunapegasus]

Your Chaos Shadow gives me Snapcube Shadow vibes, and I don’t know how to feel about that

anon you are so fucking right and correct

[ghouljams]

A Fair Trade (A First Date) Word Count: 2.7k Tags: Price x oc/reader, minor descriptions of reader but only if you really squint, fluff, first date awkwardness Summary: The Witch promised Price dinner and by God he's going to be fed. Price promised her a date, and that makes this whole thing a little harder.

You are trying and failing not to think of tonight as a date. 

You've been on dates. Not good ones, and they never came to your house, but you've been on dates. You were never this nervous before. You smooth your hands over your apron, trace the embroidery with your fingers before you pat your thighs to stop your fidgeting. You're going to change while the meat is still cooking, your usual work clothes feel too plain. 

It’s painfully clear you don’t dress up often as you look through your closet. Actually it might be more accurate to say you have no concept of dressy vs too dressy. Your usual uniform is casual to you, but you often have clients tell you, you look nice. Whatever that means. You shake your head and grab whatever is clean, staring at the coven clothes in the back of your closet. Too fancy. You twist the little pearl buttons on your blouse into their holes, and make a face in the mirror. It’s all too obvious you’re trying to look nice for someone.

It’s the silhouette, you think, the nipped waist and tight skirt. You huff and don’t bother to do the last few buttons, searching around your drawers for something more casual. You think you have a pair of jeans somewhere. You know your sister has tried to force denim on you enough times. God, this skirt makes everything so much harder, you’re not used to clothing sitting so close to your body. 

Fuck everything you’re changing, you’ll wear one of your dresses it’ll be fine.

There’s a solid knock on your front door, your wards light up excitedly. You squeeze your eyes shut and beg for it to not be Price. You know it is. You’ll just have to tell him to wait while you finish getting ready, slipping on a pair of heels as you make your way to the curved oak door.

You tug the door open, feeling more than a little frazzled. Everything is already going wrong and now you don’t have any time to fix it. Price smiles down at you, he looks the same as always. Fantastic, once again you’re overdressed. You step to the side, bid him a quiet “please come in” and hold the door for him. He slips his hat --your hat-- from his head as he steps inside. His eyes drag over your body in a way that makes you feel far too exposed.

"Did you dress up for me?" He asks, you feel a little silly the way he says it.

"You said this was a date," which makes you feel even sillier to say. 

“I did say that,” Price hums, reaches towards you, gentle fingers finish buttoning your shirt. You tip your head back instinctively for him as he twists the satin ribbon tie at the collar into a neat bow. Your breath sticks in your throat, the gesture far too intimate for a first date. “Are you nervous, sweetheart?” His fingers caress your throat and you snap your chin down, take a step back before your heart can jump out of your chest. You suppose changing is out of the question now.

“No,” Liar, “should I be?”

“Probably not,” You hate how he smiles at you, with just barely contained amusement, it’s far too charming. 

“You know to behave yourself,” You turn away from him to go check on your roast, “otherwise the wards will throw you out just like last time.”

“Last time,” He mumbles, and you feel yourself wince, the ache in your chest at his tone. You shouldn’t have brought it up. Price is quiet, you’re not exactly used to him being quiet. You can feel him, his magic like a still lake, deep dark waters hardly stirring the secrets at the bottom. You still glance over your shoulder to make sure he’s actually in the house when he’s gone too long in silence.

He’s looking around your living room, picking up framed pictures and smiling down at the happy faces. His eyes dart to the wood beams of your ceiling, to the overstuffed couch, the knitted afghans, nothing you find terribly interesting. All of your materials are kept closer to the kitchen. If he wanted to snoop he should’ve chosen one of your glass cabinets, not your bookshelf. You shrug and pull your ceramic pot from the oven, you don’t have anything that needs to be hidden.

You settle your main on the counter and go to grab plates. You figure you can get dinner plated while he’s busy putting his scent all over everything. You can feel his magic clinging to whatever he’s touched. It’ll take you weeks to get it fully out of your house. You try not to think about the magical cleaning you’ll have to do when he leaves, focusing instead on slicing thick cuts off the bread you’d baked earlier.

Your grandmother would be quite proud of you for all the cooking you’ve done. Everything is fresh and cooked to perfection. It’s quite a nice plate if you do say so yourself: warm bread, tender meat with a rich thick sauce, and roasted vegetables with just a hint of char. Everything smells of warm herbs and careful preparation. Cooking is a magic in and of itself, one you’re thankful you had a good teacher for. 

You grab both plates to set at their respective places on your table. Not exactly formal dining, but then again your family has never been a formal dining sort of people. Still, you have the prerequisite candles, wine, cloth napkins and butterflies in your stomach. You look for Price, finally having made his way to your curio cabinet. He turns a pair of dragonfly wings over in his hand.

“Dinner’s ready,” You raise your voice enough to be sure he’ll hear you over whatever he’s thinking. He settles the wings back in their place as he looks at you. His eyes drift down to the table.

“You served me,” Price sounds, almost confused, but- hm, indulgent, maybe. His voice is thick with something you haven’t heard before, deeper in his chest than it usually is. Something about it makes you want to touch him, conjures the feeling of sitting on his lap as you take your own seat.

“You’re my guest,” You tell him, “I’m a good host.”

“So you are,” He pulls his designated chair out to sit, and pauses again, leaning to pick up the fork you’d laid out for him. “This is fairy made,” He twists the intricate wooden utensil between his fingers, you nod.

“You’re not the only fae I deal with,” You pick up your own fork, the wood curves comfortably in your hand.

“Apparently,” Price smiles, finally sitting, “anyone I should be jealous of?” You snort.

“I should hope not. If I had to deal with anyone half as stubborn as you-” You shake your head, clear the sentence from your thoughts, “Besides I rarely cook for others. Too much-” you wave your hand, “idle magic to keep track of.”

Price hums. What you want to tell him is that cooking is such a labor of love, that it’s almost impossible to serve anything to anyone who isn’t going to stick around. That clearing your intent and keeping it clear the whole time you cook is far more than what a normal person has to go through, even if they’re just making toast. That every recipe seems to call for the same herbs that love and health spells call for, and you’ve never been able to shut your brain off from the association. That even sharing a meal with your friends makes you worry you’ll accidentally put a spell on them, and they’ll never trust what you give them again. That even though you love cooking you never stop being a witch, putting magic into everything that touches you.

Price watches you, your faux casual air. You know he has a better nose than your mundane friends, you dread to hear if your food smells like a spell. His eyes are so warm as you meet his gaze. It always surprises you that such an icy blue could be anything but cold, and yet.

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble for me,” He says, picking up his knife and beginning to slice through the meat on his plate. You open your mouth to refute it, and grab your wine to sip instead. There’s no point in lying when it’s so painfully clear.

Wood, ceramic, copper, your kitchen seems almost made for fae comfort in its current state. Not a lick of iron anywhere it could’ve infected the food. 

Instead you flick your wrist, your little record player excitedly switching itself on and carefully setting its needle on your pre-approved vinyl. You let the machine deal with the fiddly bits as your magic works to try and even itself out around the traces Price has left. 

“I promised you a meal, you should be able to eat it,” You finally manage, doing your best to focus on your own food when your stomach is twisting itself into knots. 

“Thank God for that,” Price tells you, “if I can’t eat you, at least I can eat your food.” You both watch the candles burst in crackling flames, bright enthusiastic licks of fire that you do your best to calm down. Magic reacting to your emotions. The record player skips a beat with your fluttering heart. “Cute,” He says it so casually, like your flames don’t crackle with his every word.

“Shut up,” You grumble.

If you’d thought dinner would be the hardest part of the evening you were horribly wrong. Dinner is easy. You’ve taken tea with Price enough times, had enough conversations with him, that you find it easy to fall into your familiar groove. Though you can feel time passing, can hear the soft click and chime of your clocks, you get lost talking. Before you know it hours have passed. Your candles burned down, your plates clean, the previously full bottle of wine neatly polished off. You think your record has reset itself at least once.

It’s nice, comfortable. Price always gives you his full attention, listens without simply waiting for his turn to speak, and you return the favor. Although with how intelligent he is, it would be hard not to give him your full attention. This date thing is easy. You don’t know why you were so worried.

All of your awkward anxiety rushes at you as you stand at the door. You’ve never been good at ending dates, and you’ve never had a date go well with someone you’re- Well you suppose you can admit that you like Price more than you should. Like him enough to hesitate the ending. You stare at him, trying to get a read on his mood, trying to silently ask him to do something. Please tell me how this is supposed to end, you think at him.

“You have to tell me if you want something little witch,” He smiles down at you. 

"Would you kiss me?" You don't know what else to say, how else this could possibly go. You want him to kiss you more than anything. You had it once, and you haven't stopped thinking about it since. Price smiles, and pulls you into his arms.

He kisses you and it's nothing like it was last time. The blind panic is gone for one. It's slow and soft, it's not perfect, you don't know what to do with your hands or really what to do with your mouth, but it doesn't matter. Price kisses you like he never wants to do anything else, like the world can wait for him to finish. You're warm from the dinner and you can feel it bleed into the kiss. His beard tickles a little but the way he holds you and the soft slide of his lips make everything else melt away. 

When he pulls away you can still feel the phantom press of his lips against yours, and it makes giddy bubbles pop in your ribs and across your cheeks. You want to kiss him again. Price smiles and brushes your hair back, his rough calloused fingers gentle as they skate across your skin. You really must be greedy to want so much more of him. You try to coach yourself, too much of a good thing blah blah blah.

He cups the back of your head and kisses you again. Soft, soft, soft. You didn't know kissing someone would feel like this. You've seen movies, read books, but you'd thought those must be exaggerations. When you'd kissed him before it had been so insistent, all teeth and tongue as he tried to devour you. If you'd thought he was trying to steal you away then you can't even imagine what he's trying to do now. Your chest clenches tight, pulls taught, bursts with gnawing desire, you think you might be trying to steal him, or at least convince him you're worth staying for.

Not that he needs convincing, you are more than worth staying for. You're so sweet and warm from the wine. Your lips are plush against his and your pretty little fingers hold onto him so tightly, he wouldn't leave you if the whole court called him. There's a slight tang of alcohol on your lips that makes your kiss all the sweeter. 

Your hands slide to his shoulders as you press up on your toes, press closer against him. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you flush against his chest. As if he could keep you any closer, feel any more of your warmth. Oh you sweet thing, if he could sink into you he would, each honeyed kiss, each gentle breath, plucking at the last string of his resolve. Precious darling, do you even know how well loved you are?

You pull back, turn your head so his next kiss just catches the edge of your mouth. Price is ravenous for you, sliding his lips to your jaw, he can smell your pulse, the soft powdery rose of your perfume. How could he still be so hungry after eating? He can feel the syrup drip of your magic down his spine, languid and entirely too enticing. Actually, everything in the house seems to tremble just on the edge of your breaths, seems to weigh heavy against his shoulders, anticipatory. 

It’s not just his hunger, is it?

His lips still against your neck. No, it’s yours as well. He can smell it, taste it on your skin, your want. You’re a spell, as much as you try not to be, just begging to be adored. You’re nervous. He pulls back, takes in the pout of your lips, the draw of your brows, wanting but unsure. He can’t. You deserve better than just hungry wanting. You should rest safe in the knowledge that he won’t leave in the morning.

Unfortunately that morning won’t come tomorrow.

Price strokes your cheek, kisses your forehead. It’s the end of an exchange, a decision made for both of you. you thought he’d be pushier. He was getting what he wanted, right? Maybe that was your own inexperience shining through, but you’d thought- Well you’d thought this was why he wanted you.

“What now?” You ask, trying to hide the confusion in your voice.

“Now?” He sighs it like it pains him, “Now, I leave, and you see me tomorrow.” You can’t say you aren’t relieved. Grateful that he isn’t pushing you for more so quickly. Still, you can’t help feeling a small sting of rejection.

"Even if I ask you to stay?" You push up onto your toes to try and meet his lips again, but he leans back to keep you a breath away.

"Especially if you ask." He tilts his head, and you feel like you’ve edged too close to a dangerous line. "When I fuck you," Price breathes, brushes his lips against yours, "and I will fuck you, Sweetheart," he assures you, "I want it to mean something.” He brushes your hair from your cheek, his fingers cupping your face like you’re something precious to him.

“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow?” You hope. Price smiles, and kisses you a final time. The feeling of him lingers when he pulls away. Gentle magic sticking to your lips as he pulls his hat on.

“And every day after that,” He promises.