#clearly its not fine????? why is that so hard to accept??

[ghostlykeyes]

Hi Keyes! Nice to meet you ❤️ I was wondering if you would accept a request 👉🏻👈🏻

Its my first time asking for requests! So sorry if Im not clear enough of if I forget the rules. Im totally new at this T-T

I had this idea in my mind for a long time and I was wondering if you could consider writing it! Kayn x fem reader headcannons where Kayn falls haaaard for reader cause he found a partner in crime in her. They both like to cause a little trouble here and there, and also he found someone that could drive ever FASTER than him.

Omg Im so in love with him 😮‍💨❤️

Thank you and hope Im not breaking any rules!

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HEARTSTEEL KAYN/TROUBLEMAKER READER ♡ No TW's ♡ SFW ♡ Nice to meet you, you're so sweet!! Thank you for your fantastic request, I loved writing it! I hope you'll feel free to request more in the future (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

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KAYN

Instead of traditional nicknames like "honey" or "babe", Kayn exclusively calls you his little demon. Given your wild side, it's pretty accurate.

All it takes to get Kayn to do something is a dare. He has a hard time turning down dares as is, but if it's coming from you? His partner in crime and chief enabler? Oh, no way in hell he's backing down. Naturally it works for big, bold things: popping a wheelie on the Paranoia MV motorcycles, climbing a water tower, vandalizing a cop car. It also works for small things, too, though. Dare him to get you a glass of water or give you a kiss and he'll roll his eyes, but comply. "Oh, a dare, huh? You know I can't turn those down." He folds to your innocent, cute demands like paper. Just be mindful, though; he knows you're a troublemaker too, and he's not afraid to throw a dare or two of his own your way.

Whenever Ernest is naughty, fingers immediately point at you and Kayn. "He gets it from you two," the rest of Heartsteel claims. Kayn just shrugs. "We're his favorite," he defends (not true—Ezreal is clearly Ernest's favorite, but it's best not to rub that in Kayn's face). "Of course he's gonna take after us." He rubs Ernest's ears, completely ignoring the fact that he just stole food off the counter or shredded K'sante's favorite shoes. "Yeah, you're our little monster, huh?" If you didn't know any better, you might think Kayn is encouraging the dog's troublemaking...

(He is. He totally is. You've literally seen him sneak Ernest a treat after turning one of Sett's plushies into a chew toy.)

Kayn nabbed your phone one time and set the home screen as a picture of his mug shot from the music video. Not to be outdone, you stole his phone and set the home screen as a picture of your mug shot. Kayn has nothing but questions. "Is this real?? The fuck did you do? Why do you look so hot in this..." Of course, you don't tell him if it's real or staged. You can't give away all your secrets so easily, now, can you?

There's a change jar in the Heartsteel apartment kitchen marked "Kayn and (Y/N)'s Bail Fund". At first you thought it was a complete joke, but then you noticed Ezreal drop a twenty in there after Kayn broke a Taco Bell drive-thru window during a night-out. Now you're not so sure. Either way, hopefully you'll never have to use it for that.

Every single time you and Kayn go somewhere, it's a race. You line your cars up at the mouth of the parking garage and then you fucking go. You've raced to McDonald's for lunch, raced him to his rehearsals, you even raced him to a funeral one time. There are no rules except 'get there first', and yes, this little game has resulted in multiple speeding tickets. But whatever what's a small fine compared to an adrenaline rush? They wouldn't put 130 on the speedometer if they didn't want you to do it.

Kayn and you have been permanently banned from a fair handful of establishments. Reasons why include: totaling a go-kart, throwing bowling balls overhead, bribing a ring toss worker to get a gigantic Bulbasaur without playing the game (Sett really, really wanted it). And that's the beginning. Don't even get Yone started on the infamous Laser Tag Incident...

The perfect date for you two is a rage room. Yone got you and Kayn passes for a local rage room for Kayn's birthday one year. Playing frisbee with glass dinner plates? A surprisingly good time. Sure, they may have asked you not to come back after Kayn got a little rowdy with an old radio and an extension cord (you asked him how high he thought he could slingshot the thing and the answer was "pretty fucking far", which of course he had to prove), but it was a good time regardless. Whenever Kayn's feeling extra stressed and you don't want to deal with the fallout around real property damage, you take him to a rage room for the afternoon and smash bottles to your hearts' content.

Kayn never paid much attention to minor scrapes and bruises before meeting you. But, since you're now hopping fences or slipping through open windows together, he's suddenly become attuned to the bumps acquired while daredevilling. He keeps a small container of band-aids in his bag just for you. "I might have some bandages in here," he grumbles whenever you get scraped up. "Dunno if I used 'em all." (Of course he hasn't. They're your band-aids and he wouldn't dream of using one.)

Whenever Kayn just needs to talk, the two of you often sneak into an old building to do it. Getting caught puts your nerves on edge, for sure, but it allows Kayn to pretend he's not anxious about discussing his own feelings or worries. Of course he feels vulnerable, you two are trespassing! That's totally why his palms are sweating and his chest feels tight. It has nothing to do with his deep-seated reluctance to talk about his emotions. If you can tell Kayn's wound up extra tight, offer to sneak into a nearby community pool or abandoned gas station late at night. Under cover of darkness, in the silent hallways of a vacant building, Kayn lets you take a peek under his dark shell.

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel x reader #kayn #kayn x reader #kayn/reader #sheida kayn #lovewhatsnotreal

[canmom]

Comics mini-Comints: Dungeon Meshi

reread dungeon meshi through to the end. still such a great manga. here are immediate thoughts - if I end up having time and energy I hope I can write something that goes deeper!

ironically i was only a few chapters from the end when I stopped keeping up, but I was struggling to remember all the characters and context, so reading it through in one go was definitely an ideal way to achieve maximum impact there.

ryoko kui does a very elegant job of handling a transition from 'silly antics' to 'big dramatic fantasy' while still keeping the central thematic throughline - eating and being eaten, belonging to an ecosystem, the significance of sacrificing others to achieve your own desires. a lot of setups pay off in a way that feels meticulously planned - and of course the crux of the final showdown revolves around characters attempting to eat each other, of course the big payoff is a huge feast that symbolically unites all the conflicting factions. it is maybe a bit too neat and happy for my taste, but it's undeniably tightly executed - it never loses sight of what it's about. especially compared to something like Frieren, it's an incredibly coherent serialisation, up there with e.g. Fullmetal Alchemist.

kui's art style deserves all kinds of praise - it feels effortlessly simple, but it clearly communicates all sorts of different shapes and body types and it's really fun to see her play around with remixing the different visual elements when she switches the races around. in general Laius's autistic monster loving ways clearly reflect kui's own deeply felt appreciation for all the ways people and animals live (accentuated further by all the extra sketches the scanlators tuck in). in a way you could kinda call it like Parts Unknown the fantasy manga.

the stakes of the final conflict are interesting - there is much to be said about the framing of 'desire' and its fulfilment, of this occult idea of 'the infinite'. lots you could put in relation to other manga, and also buddhism. (in particular I really want to develop a comparison to Made In Abyss, there are so many parallels, it just might be too spicy for tumblr lmao).

one thing I really like about it is how much its fantasy dungeon-exploring setting owes to D&D and other TTRPGs, rather than videogames. monster ecology has been a fascination of that game since the early days of Dragon magazine, and Kui sharply zeroes in on some of the intrinsic conflicts baked in to that fantasy milieu, notably the lifespan thing, while smartly avoiding the traps of 'evil races'. there's some really fun nods to the weirder monster manual entries. and in a story with so many characters and factions, it does a genuinely incredible job of furnishing everyone with understandable, reasonable motivations, conflicts drawn from their context just like the monsters are explained by their ecology.

and one thing that I particularly appreciate is like... how much it is able to simultaneously understand and sympathise with a character and also show us how and why they'd rub others the wrong way. it's impossible not to like our main group, they're all such charming dorks and the manga leads you along with all the crazy rpg party shit they do, but at the same time you definitely find yourself thinking 'guy's got a point' in the kabru chapters lmao. I'm projecting hard bc i don't really know a thing about ryōko kui but laius def feels like the sort of depiction of having an autism that you can only do if you've lived it.

but yeah, it's a fuzzy ending where it all turns out well. but what's the deeper thrust of it all? there's a funny moment where marcille is like 'maybe in the end our journey is about learning to accept death' and the grouchy old gnome guy completely laughs this off as naive, because death doesn't mean anything. and indeed their big plan pays off, and falin does indeed come back just fine. but still, through all of this it asks you to bite the bullet that being a living creature means eating to survive, at the cost of other creatures, with the other side being that one day you too will be eaten. in contrast to this honest way of being is the beguiling fantasy of infinity, where all your desires are immediately fulfilled - this is shown as a dangerous path of corruption that produces madness and manipulability. having limits and rubbing up against the wishes of others, or 'doing things you don't want to do' as izutsumi's arc puts it, becomes necessary for having some kind of definition as a subject. the thing that makes the demon concrete as an entity is a desire, or appetite, that can't immediately be fulfilled.

of course we can connect this to the idea of narrative conflict. a standard advice for putting together a plot is to ask what each character wants and why they can't get it. wanting something implies movement. and indeed over the course of this story, we see that while having too many desires fulfilled too readily leads to incoherence and callousness, equally a character who is left catatonic as their desires have been eaten by the demon must be reawakened to activity by finding a new desire.

it's kinda Buddhist innit. neither the opulence of the palace nor asceticism. desires are what tie you to the world. but mixed with ecology: what a creature does to find the energy to live is what defines its lifestyle, its form.

this is probably where I'd start talking about entropy gradients and shit if i wasn't typing this on a phone at 1:30am lmao.

but yeah - it's a powerful move to go from 'D&D monster recipe show sendup' to 'living with the inherently violent nature of being an organism fated to live in a finite sum game' and yet Dungeon Meshi makes it feel natural and convincing, while remaining tremendously charming and funny throughout. ryōko kui is definitely some kind of genius, and I can't wait to see what her next act is gonna be. it's all definitely making me appreciate the act of eating a lot more.

next story on my plate is probably The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere, which sounds like it will present a very gnarly thematic contrast.

#manga #dungeon meshi #comics comints

[armins-used-qtip]

It was no secret that Connie found you alluring. Even from the first time you met him, he let his eyes linger for longer than acceptable. Whenever you're with him you can feel his burning stare, especially on your body. He's a nice guy, although you don't know him very well since he's your boyfriend's friend not yours. Despite his attraction to you he would never act on it, he's a good friend after all.

You and your boyfriend, Eren, had a very closed off and intimate sex life. But he was a freak so you often found yourself doing... questionable things.

Being the hoarder you are, you had a small, white shoebox tucked under your bed. It was filled with mementos from your relationship. Ticket stubs, receipts, bracelet boxes, anything really.

Connie didn't know how he found himself in your room searching through your belongings like a pervert.

Earlier Connie had gotten a call from Eren

"Yo, Y/N sleeping at mine again. Could you do me a favour and go get her backpack from her dorm"

"Why do I have to get it. Why can't you or her?"

"She's in a lecture right now and I have to meet Armin in about.... 10 minutes. Please bro just this once??"

"....fine"

"Cheers bro, the keys under her rug."

There he was. Searching through your stuff, with no aim in mind. The backpack had already been found, so he should've left. But for some reason he felt like he'd be missing an opportunity if he left so quickly.

He slumped down against your bedframe, when he felt something poke him in the back. "Hmm... 'me and ren' what's this?"

He grabbed the white shoebox that was poking him. It was what he expected, just some cute memories and shit. Just as he was about to put the box back something glossy caught his eye. He wiggled his fingers further in the box to retrieve it. Nothing could've prepared him for what he saw. It was a small Polaroid. He couldn't tear his eyes from it, he was mortified but totally mesmerised.

You were positioned ass up on the very bed Connie was leaning on, completely naked. You had a gag in your mouth and your arms were tied. There was a pair of hands roughly  spreading you apart, Erens obviously.

Connie was so taken aback by this photo. He had completely stilled, too scared to even move a muscle. He never took you for someone to be into that sort of thing. The more he thought about it, the hotter he felt his body get.

This is wrong. I shouldn't be looking at this Connie consciousness began knawing at him. Yet he just couldn't put it down. His eyes focused on your pussy, it was being manhandled by Eren. He felt terrible but a small part of him wished he was the one behind the camera, not Eren. A dry gulp was all he could form as he felt his pants get tighter.

"Shit" A wave of realisation hit him and he put the Polaroid down. This was bad and he knew it. He stood up and looked around your room. "Just get the bag and leave" he muttered to himself. First he had to put that Polaroid back in its place. He kneeled down and took the Polaroid, facing it the other way, and put it back in the box. He then noticed there were more. He felt guilty but not guilty enough to stop. He grabbed the stack and looked through them. Each one was somehow better than the last. His favourite was the one where you were on the bathroom floor, with your fingers deep in yourself. Eren was nowhere to be seen, unlike the other ones that were all clearly taken by him. This one was a selfie, maybe you had taken it for Eren?

He did something dumb. He slipped it into his back pocket and put the rest away, tucking the box back under your bed. He was thinking with his very erect dick rather than his mind. He could barely walk because he was so painfully hard. All he wanted in that moment was your pretty lips wrapped around him. A loud groan left him at the thought of you on your knees for him. His mind was so fuzzy from the pure arousal, he had to sort his hard-on out.

He stumbled into your washroom. He was looking for them. The pink frilly underwear he caught a glimpse of yesterday when you were at Erens. A small part of him hoped he didn't find them because he had no idea what he was about to do to them, all he knew was that he needed them. The way this man was behaving anyone would think he was inebriated, but no the only thing he was drunk off was the thought of your body underneath his. He dug through your clothes basket. He found them. It wasn't purposeful, but a small laugh erupted from him. Was he this pathetic? Was he really about to wank off to his best friend's girlfriend?

He looked at the thong style underwear in his hand. There was a dark patch where your pussy would have been. The sight of this had him panting heavily. All his guilt was washed away the second he brought them up to his nose, taking in the smell of you. Any common sense he had was now gone and replaced with pure, primitive lust. He swore it was impossible to become harder than he was, yet he found himself growing evermore. It was painful, he was so, so hard. He felt like a helpless puppy in heat. He reached his hands into his sweats and pulled out his rock solid dick. There was precum dribbling down the side. With the pink panties in his nose he began pumping his hand up and down his cock. He hissed at the feeling, he felt more sensitive down there than usual. He brought the underwear away from his nose and uncrumpled it. His stare was directed at the dark patch, even the sight of it nearly made him cum. He brought it to his mouth and began to lick the spot. The grip he had on his dick got tighter and he began pumping faster. Quiet and broken whimpers left his mouth, muffled by the fabric of your panties. He savoured the salty taste as if it was a 5 star meal. The pressure in his stomach was building up and he threw his head back in response. This time he held the underwear's dark spot to his swollen tip. The panties stuck to him as he jerked off into them. This was nearly enough for him to come undone, his movements were becoming sloppier and lost their rhythm. He whimpered and moaned your name as the coil in his stomach snapped. The deepest and guttural moans left him as he emptied himself onto your pink panties. Hot cum spilled into his hands as he tried to control his breathing.

"Shit" he panicked at the sight of your ruined panties. Still in a state of stupidity he shoved the dirtied underwear in his coat pocket.

His mind was racing on his way to Erens dorm. How would he look you in the eyes? What if you noticed your pants and your Polaroid were gone? But it was too late to return them now.

Knock knock

"Eren bro are you in? I've got your girls bag" Connie was surprised to see you open the door.

"I'm not 'Erens girl' I have a name" you said bitterly and took the bag from his hands.

Just as you were about to shut the door you spoke out

"Oh and uh... I have a camera in my dorm room"

You watched in amusement as Connie's soul left his body. His pathetic stammers only made you laugh.

" don't worry I won't tell Eren, but I want my Polaroid back" you said putting your hand out. He reluctantly reached into his back pocket and put the Polaroid in your hand.

"Thanks Connie" you offered a sweet smile before you shut the door in his face. How cute.

Ok that's the end. I've never written smut before so um if it's bad deal with it?

#attack on titan #aot connie #aot x reader #aot smut #connie x reader #connie springer #connie smut #pantylover #eren yeager #eren aot #eren jaeger #fanfic #oneshot #short fiction

[writtnbyhan]

seungmin comforting insecure reader? im feeling a bit weird rn and would rlly like some comfort writing:(( its fine if not !!

hi!! I rushed to write this as quickly as possible and I really hope it brings you some comfort, whatever little it may be. You have no idea how happy it makes me that you chose me to write your comfort writing because I understand what it feels like to need some and !! to be able to provide it !!!! I swear to you you've made me the happiest by asking this, and I hope I can give back a little bit of that happiness with my silly little words :(

also, I really hope it was what you expected ?? I didn't want to put too much focus on what makes reader insecure because I know it's something different for each one of us and I tried to keep it as generic as possible. I hope you like it and I hope you're feeling better <3

word count: 1319

You’re awfully quiet, and Seungmin is quick to notice. Normally, you joke around with him, you laugh at his jokes even when they’re really lame, you shine when you’re happy, and the difference is evident for him. Not that you’re not as beautiful as always, but the quiet and the lack of smile is noticeable, at least for him.

He decides not to comment on it for a while, assuming you’ll tell him if you want to share. But when enough time has passed, and you’re laying on the couch next to him, watching a movie, he breaks. Your attention is clearly somewhere else, you’re lost in thoughts and your face makes it evident that the thoughts on your mind are not precisely happy ones.

“Baby?” he asks, and he knows something’s wrong when that doesn’t get your attention. “y/n?” he asks again, his voice almost a whisper, worry gnawing at his chest.

You look at him, and your eyes are glossy like you’re fighting hard not to spill the tears that have gathered in your eyes.

“Oh, baby.” He sounds so sad for you, and he extends his arm, an open invitation for a hug. Usually, you’d be quick to accept and cuddle him, but today… Yeah, today is an exception.

You shake your head and the tears finally fall. You don’t intend them to, but they apparently don’t let you control them anymore. They’re spilling from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, and leaving you naked and vulnerable in your boyfriend’s eyes. You hate crying, but you hate crying in front of him more. You know his heart is breaking by the way he looks at you like he’d gladly take all of your pain and carry it for you (he would).

He waits, his arms still open. It is evident on his face that he doesn’t know what to do. He always respects your boundaries, especially when it comes to physical touch and when or when it is not welcomed. You’re not a big fan of PDA, and neither is he, so he’s always asking before doing something, sometimes even when you’re alone. It is endearing. Today, though, you can tell he’s doubting whether he’s doing the right thing or not.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” his voice is on the verge of breaking, and you cry harder. Why, why would he worry this much? Why would he care? Why should he care? Why does he care? You surely don’t deserve a boy like him.

You shake your head again and sigh. A voice in the back of your head reminds you of the importance of communication in a relationship, and you curse at it, even when you know it’s true. You sigh again.

“Why?” You say finally, only able to voice the only word repeating in your mind. He looks confused, and the look is so endearing you almost want to laugh through the tears; you’re incapable of actually doing so, though. “Why me?” You say, voice quieter now, more weak. His eyes soften, and you think he’s beginning to understand.

He’s patient. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t answer the question because he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. He’s waiting for you to actually ask something he can answer.

“Why choose me, when you can have anyone?” The question is whispered, but it sounds so loud in Seungmin’s head, resonating against its walls, and he wants to scream just to quiet it.

For your ears, though, he only gasps. His arms lowered when you started speaking, and his hands twitched as soon as you finished voicing the question. He wants to hold you. He wants to cry himself, but he forces himself to remain strong to provide you with that strength.

“Because I want you,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I always want you. I don’t care who I could have, as long as I have you, I don’t care about anyone else.” He’s looking directly at you, trying to get his point across.

You look down, staring into your lap while the tears fall.

“It’s just…”

He waits. He waits so patiently, even though he’s growing desperate to hug you and reassure you. He waits, because boundaries or whatever.

“It’s just that sometimes, when you’re doing promotions…” you hide your face behind your hands as your crying becomes more intense. “I just think… you deserve one of them, you know, an idol who can dance and sing and who looks so pretty and so tiny and… I can’t ever be that. No matter how hard I try, I’m me and you just deserve so much better than I can be.”

Your tears are falling freely, the waterfall has opened and it’s clear it doesn’t plan on closing soon.

“y/n,” he says, he’s worried and he’s serious, and you fear you might have made him angry because the serious look on his face is unusual. “Listen to me, and listen clearly: I want you.” He enunciates the words, pronouncing each one loud and clear. “I don’t care about them, I chose you because you’re you, and that’s exactly what I want. And I deserve exactly that: what I want. What I want is you.” He is the one to sigh now. “I can’t even look at other people, baby. You’re the prettiest person my eyes have ever laid upon – and I say this while seeing Hyunjin every day, you know.” He laughs at the last part.

You laugh a little, too, even if it’s weak. You want to believe him, even if your fears are stronger today. You know he means what he says, even if you can’t understand how he can mean it.

His touch is barely there when he reaches for your hand, trying to take them out of your face. “Let me wipe your tears, please. I’ve got you, baby, I’m right here.”

You let him lower your hands, but you still keep your gaze fixed on your lap. His touch is still featherlike when he softly caresses your chin, indicating for you to look up. You do, your glossy eyes meeting his, not as glossy as yours but almost there.

“I’m sorry. I’m being really difficult today. I’m sorry” 

You’ll never not be amazed by Seungmin’s ability to understand what’s going on around him, by his tuned senses for everyone’s needs. So, it is still a surprise when Seungmin notices you getting barely closer and extends his arm towards you. You welcome the invitation, now, and pretty much throw yourself to him, his hold so strong, like he wants to hold you tight enough that it’ll fix everything broken inside you.

“Don’t apologize for needing some help every now and then. It’s okay to need reassurance, and I’m always willing to give it to you – you make this world better. . . you make me better. So please, let me help you when you’re getting in your head like this. I’m here for you, today, tomorrow, the day after that… even in 2065 when you’re all old and wrinkly, I’ll be by your side.” He gives a small kiss on the side of your head, and you let out a small chuckle.

“I love you so much, Seungminnie,” you say, quietly, into the dark room as the credits to the movie you were watching start rolling.

“I know,” he says, rocking you slightly. “Now, I’m going to put on another movie and you lay your head on my shoulder and try to sleep. It will all be better tomorrow when you wake up next to me.” You nod, doing as he says while he puts on a Disney movie. You turn your head to give a small kiss on his shoulder, and he chuckles. “I love you too, by the way.”

He’s right. Everything's better when you’re next to him, and you hurt a lot less when in between his arms.

#✿ . . cami writes #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz comfort #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #seungmin comfort

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Fast Car (S.R.)

Summary: Reader drives a sleepy Spencer home. Request: Dr. I Cannot Drive Spencer Reid trying to convince reader to drive him somewhere Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Driving Word Count: 700

MASTERLIST

The Virginia backroads seem longer at night. Most of the world is sleeping and you are wishing for the same, but your bag is heavy and still sitting on your desk.

In the dim lighting of the closed bullpen, you look over at the only other one left. The same man who had offered you a ride to and from work… but was now slumped over.

half-asleep on his desk.

You can’t find it in you to be bothered when he looks so sweet—a little bit pathetic with his bedhead and pouted lips—but sweet, nonetheless.

He doesn’t lift his head when you approach him, but he does whine. He shifts like he can turn the desk into the bed he wishes it was.

“Come on, wonder boy, it’s time to go home,” you chuckle.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You don’t dignify the protest with an answer. Instead, you slowly pull his chair back until he must move.

He does. He groggily pulls himself as together as he can, but it’s you that carefully arranges his hair back into its normal state of disarray, giggling all the while.

Spencer’s face turns pink at the gesture, but he tries to hide how fondly he feels.

He fails, of course. You can see it clearly in smitten eyes that scan your face for any hint of reciprocity. You wonder if he can see it, since you feel it so strongly.

If he does, he doesn’t mention it. He just clears his throat and asks, “Do you… do you think you can drive?”

“Why?” you ask in a very rhetorical manner, “Is something wrong?”

Spencer answers, anyway.

“I’m fine, I’m just really tired. I didn’t sleep well last night, and driving is… exhausting. There is so much to pay attention to, and I don’t want to do any of it.”

“I know,” you coo. You place both hands on his cheeks and squeeze until his yawn turns back into a pout. “Poor sleepy boy can’t do two things at once.”

“It’s way more than two things!” he squeaks.

You smile. You recognize the rant coming from a mile away and decide that no matter how much you love to hear him talk, you’d rather hear something less morbid. Even more importantly, you’d like to hear it on your way home.

“Spencer, not only am I happy to drive, I would prefer it,” you explain.

His offense is immediate as he replies very sternly, “Hey! I’m a very good driver!”

“Oh yeah?”

He catches the smirk on your face; he knows you’re only teasing him. But his competitive nature bleeds into his voice as he huffs, “Better than you!”

“We’ll see about that.”

He accepts the challenge. Or at least, he pretends like he does until the wheels start turning.

It takes him less than five minutes to fall asleep in the passenger seat. You think about waking him just to tease him, but you ultimately decide to let him sleep.

You watch the road but wish that you could watch him instead. You listen to the soft sound of his breath through the ruckus of the road beneath your wheels. You think back to the taunt you’d delivered back at the office.

When you’d mentioned your preference for driving, you hadn’t meant it as an insult. You had simply meant that you liked how peacefully he slept in your company. You loved the way he never doubted that you would keep him safe.

It hadn’t mattered to you who would bear the burden of watching the road; any amount of time, no matter how infinitesimal, would be worth whatever the world requires.

Your foot eases off the gas pedal as you reach a long stretch of road. There are no headlights in your rear view. It’s just, Spencer, and the Virginia night sky unimpeded by city lights.

The car almost comes to a stop before a pothole. You maneuver around it, careful not to jostle the sleeping boy to your side.

For as long as you can, you drive under the speed limit and watch twice as hard for anything that might excuse you to take just a little bit longer.

The car coasts down the road.

Spencer had never slept better.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Reid Taglist (Everything Reid): @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife 

Complete Taglist (All Works): @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff

[marinaiguess]

sonic plays the guitar whenever he feels a little down, whenever running doesn't feel like the best choice; on rainy days or even lazy days because hedgehog heroes deserve those too. and when he plucks the chords, tails can see the tranquility that takes over his body, his expression is soft and not exaggeratedly happy or optimistic. tails can see the real sonic for a few moments, the one who doesn't wear a mask to hide his true feelings in favour of his friends, the one who accepts he can't always save the entire world, the one who knows that his "die-hard" attitude is just a fuel to keep himself going and to not give up.

sonic also knows that tails notices, but he's fine with that. he can't hide from him; of course his only family can read him like an open book. what he doesn't know is that tails is inspired by this, by how sonic allows the guitar to rip his mask off of his face, how something as simple as a musical instrument can have such an effect on a person.

so, he wants to try it out, in order to understand how sonic feels, and maybe to impress him by how naturally good he is at it. except, he isn’t. when sonic goes outside and tails claims to work on a new invention, he secretly tries to learn how to play the guitar. and it’s so hard, how does sonic make it look so easy? he can’t even play the simplest chord without it sounding like an eggman robot getting destroyed. practice makes perfect. that’s what he says to himself to keep going. yet, it doesn’t work. 

when sonic notices the lack of new inventions recently, he gets a little worried but instead of asking tails about it (since he was certain he would deny everything), he stays outside the workshop unbeknownst to tails. he’s expecting to hear something, anything that will disclose his brother’s current state. why has he been lying to him? is anyone blackmailing tails? if eggman is behind this- 

and then his ear twitches. a chord. but he isn’t familiar with that sound. and then he hears another one and he feels shivers down his spine. whatever is making these weird sounds, definitely does not know what the correct chords are. is that why tails hasn’t told him anything abt his new invention? because he hasn’t found a way to make it work correctly? he peaks from the window, careful to not be seen. 

the last thing he expects to see, is tails holding his guitar, tongue sticking out, hands struggling to find the chords. sonic’s hands fly to his mouth in an attempt to silence his surprised snort. he looks at him in awe, the sight before his eyes makes his heart warm and he is sure he will keep this memory close to his heart. and then another out of tune chord is heard and sonic can’t help but wince, still smiling at how cute tails looks when he is mad. tails grumbles, clearly frustrated and defeated, leaving the guitar on the couch as he walks away from it. 

sonic’s face softens even more. he can’t believe tails has been trying to learn how to play the guitar. he feels kinda bad that he has been failing to do so but a sudden idea completely changes his mood. he rushes to the city and when he’s back, he finds a very confused tails sitting on the couch, looking at him. tails mumbles and stutters as he tries to explain why the guitar was beside him but sonic simply walks to him, places his hand on his buddy’s shoulder and makes him stop. 

he gives him a smile. and a present. 

sonic is holding what seems like a smaller guitar. tails’ shock cannot be hidden and sonic cracks up. he explains that he overheard him trying to play the guitar. tails looks a bit flustered but his attention is focused on that thing sonic is holding; he doesn’t think he’s seen something similar before. 

“it’s a ukulele.” sonic tells him to clear his confusion. “easier to learn and to play and its sounds are beautiful too.”

tails takes it from sonic’s hands and admires the beautiful handicraft; it’s expertly made out of wood yet it feels so valuable and fragile. tails wants to object, to give this back to sonic but he already knows what his little bro is thinking of, so he pushes the ukulele back to his chest, giving him a reassuring look. 

tails knows he can’t win this one, so he sits down. he hesitates but he plays a chord. this time it doesn’t sound bad at all! sonic seems more excited than he himself is, so he keeps on playing. 

soon the two of them spend their nights singing songs while both play their own musical instruments, accompanying one another. sonic suggests they invite their friends over once in a week to light a campfire outside and have fun while they all sing together and tails agrees wholeheartedly.

#homie turned a small idea into an essay #thats what happens when you remember why you bought a ukuelkek #posting it #cuz why not #sth #sonic and tails #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #(i almost typed niles tails prower) #tails the fox #brothers your honour

[sluckythewizard]

Keep calm, and drink soda

[CW for blood and gore and vomit] takes place a day or two after emizel was sired. just two boys adjusting to a shift in their daily norms. would YOU drink your homies blood? still not used to writing fanfic so any and all advice IS appreciated. i hope u enjoy.

There were very few things that Soda enjoyed more than well, drinking soda. It was a hobby, an interest, a comfort. And by extension there were very few errands that Soda would look forward to more than the occasional soda run.

The gas station closest to the Demons hideout had stopped selling Faygo entirely about a month or two ago, and it was near impossible to find it anywhere else. The closest place was now this janky little Shell gas station, lovingly titled the Shady Shell, that thankfully sold more flavors than any of the other ones ever did.

It made the hour and a half walk here entirely worth it. Even if this side of town made his skin crawl. Normally he would ask someone to accompany him on this daring little quest, but everyone at the hide out tonight just seemed too tired, too preoccupied, too uninterested.

He knew not everyone really got the soda thing, but they were accepting of it for the most part. Soda is something that, clearly, Soda really loves, but he knew not everyone else was into it.

Which was fine, of course. They didn't need to get it. But, still, sometimes Soda found himself wondering how much of it was a bit, and how much was him.

Emizel gets it perfectly though. He would've been the first person Soda would ask to go on this soda run with him, but, well. He's been preoccupied too, with the whole vampire thing.

It's been a bit more than a day since Soda had last seen his close comrade. For a friend that he saw just about everyday, going without him this long left him feeling a little emptier.

That was fine, though. Emizel had shit he was working out, he had things he needed to do. It's not like he could go out in the day anymore, so of course Soda wouldn't be seeing him at all the usual times.

It was a lot of weird and heavy magical stuff, it made Soda think about those superhero shows. Where the hero needs to keep his identity hidden from everyone. Family especially. He knows how much of a piece of shit Emizels dad is, so he hoped that Emizels home life wasn't stirred up all stupid-like over this.

He hasn't told anyone else, about what happened that night. For the last 2 days, Soda would spend time with close friends and not let them know a thing about what happened to Emizel so, so recently. Why he's so suddenly absent, so distant, so.. off…

'Maybe his dad's just giving him a hard time', he would say, hoping to smother their questions. The less questions they ask, the better. At least until this vampire stuff gets figured out a bit more. Should Emizel wear a disguise when he goes out at night now? Just like a superhero? What kind of hero outfit would Emizel have anyways? Soda figured it would be something really cool.

If anyone could figure out a way to balance all this vampire stuff, and all the leaderly responsibilities that come with being the biggest dog in the Demons, it was Emizel for sure. That guy is so seriously cool.

He was sure this rough patch would even out, and they would weather the next rough patch together no problem. There was really nothing to worry about! All Soda has to do is stay positive, and well, drink soda.

As Soda walks quietly down the crumbling sidewalks of this dreary hive of strip malls and shops, he goes to pull his backpack around to his chest, fumbling with the zipper in the dark. Which was a little annoying, considering the tab of his zipper had fallen off forever ago. He really needed to get around to fixing this damn thing. Maybe another ziptie and a soda tab will do the trick.

Humid air hangs heavy in the night, the sidewalks still somewhat warm after a hotter day. The diesel-soaked air provided enough warmth on its own that Soda had considered taking his jacket off a few times, only for the occasional, annoyingly sharp and chilly breeze to brush by, reminding him to keep the thing on.

Tripping only once and only slightly on an uneven sidewalk, Soda manages to pull a bottle of Faygo from his backpack, a smile glowing on his face. Another short fight with the zipper seals up the bag, and he slings it over his shoulder again.

His flavor of choice tonight was actually the Red Pop, the tried and true, the absolute classic, one of the best Faygo flavors for sure.

But, this kind wasn't actually his favorite. Normally he would stock up on the cotton candy ones, but something about the last few days had him craving the red stuff.

Securing his backpack all the way, he goes to crack open the bottle. Just the clack and the hisssss of the fizzy drink were enough to lift his mood.

Not that his mood needed lifting or anything. Of course. Sure he missed his friend and sure he found himself wondering what he’s doing and where he is and if he's okay. Maybe sometimes he found himself wishing they talked about funeral plans more.

Emizel talked up all sorts of crazy funeral ideas for himself, usually involving the use of his dead body as an inconvenience for others. Outlandish and hilarious ideas, like filling it with explosives and tossing it into a busy road. But what would he want seriously? What would Soda ever do if he just stopped showing up one day?

He had to swallow down all these unnecessary anxieties, so he took a swig of his soda. Sweet, bubbly, comforting. He felt better already! Just stay positive, and drink soda..

It was a lovely night out, and he didn't come all this way planning on letting it go to waste. There was a place he was heading towards, a particular alleyway in this particular place that led off to a particularly tall concrete ledge.

 It was a run-down little space, littered with trash and shitty trees and those bushes with just too many goddamn ants in them. But the view was fairly nice, overlooking a massive deformed intersection. A particularly stupid one, at that; about 3 times a week you could witness a gnarly crash at this spot. Soda always heard people saying that LA folks can't drive, but he was just starting to figure that maybe no one can drive.

That was the place he really wanted to go to enjoy this soda, and he wasn't too far off from it. Just a few more blocks, and he would be there.

Oh wait, didn't he still have a bag of chips in this backpack somewhere? Hell yeah, he couldn't wait to sit down and relax with a good soda, a good snack, and a good view of the night.

Living as a Demon had its fair share of stresses. He felt lucky to have this life, but he knew well that it could be better. That not everyone has to worry about survival the way they do. That not everyone gets injured on the regular and not everyone has to worry about being sick and never getting better.

Living is hard. But it's finding the small moments of joy that make it all worth it. Dying would be scarier anyway. He didn't want to die, and he felt glad to feel so confident in that nowadays.

The sudden   THUNK  of something slamming into the ground just a block away from him, jolts him out of his thoughts, all his gears screeching to a halt as he freezes in place. What the fuck was that?

It looked like a person, laying flat on the ground with only their head and shoulders peeking out of the alleyway ahead. Fuck. He hated this side of town..

Anxiety churns in his stomach as he debates just turning around, but the way the victim reaches an arm out, attempting to crawl away; it made his heart ache aswell. he's no goddamn fighter, but he couldn't just leave someone like th-

The body is suddenly yanked back into the alley, snatched at a startling speed. It didn't feel exactly real, how could something vanish so fast? It reminded Soda of something from a horror movie, or whatever. What the fuck was that??

His foot takes a step forward, before the rest of his body notices its rebellion and locks down again. Was he seriously going to investigate that? He could just walk away and take another alley. But that was the one he was supposed to turn down! All the other alleys are either walled off or gated off and he wasn't about to go climbing over a damn wire gate. His soda would get too shaken up! Fuck!

Another foot goes in for another step forward. He's gotta get the fuck out of here. He could hear more commotion in the alleyway, a scuffle, a skirmish. He could hear someone cursing through a choked breath. A loud and nauseating crack echoes out from the alley, and yet, Soda takes another step forward.

This was stupid, he shouldn't be getting tangled up in someone else's business. What if something happened to all this soda?

Thankfully, it was that thought that actually got him to pause, and take in a deep breath. It wasn't worth it, maybe he should head straight home.

Atleast, that was the thought his heart and mind were about to agree on, until a particularly familiar grroowwwwlll bleeds out from the alley.

Emizel?

All reason immediately evaporates as Soda makes that connection in his head, stepping right up to the corner of the brick walls, and peering around to investigate.

There was a body on the floor, face down in a puddle of red, head split open in a way that reminded Soda of a smashed watermelon.

But standing over that body, was the familiar, blackened coat, and short blonde hair, of Sodas closest comrade, Emizel.

Despite the carnage on the floor, Soda couldn't help the smile that lights up his face. That was Emizel! That was his boy!

But before he could get over just how happy he felt to see his best friend, something else caught his eye. Movement, behind the dumpster closest to the vampire boy. A person, rising out from the shadows with a glinting baseball bat clutched fiercely in their hands.

"Oh fuck, look out!" Soda speaks up, and Emizels gaze immediately clicks over to him, silencing Soda with just that startlingly red stare.

He had forgotten just how uneasy those red eyes made him..

The attacker, silent and professional, rushes up behind Emizel and CRACKS the metal bat downwards onto his blonde head, the sound ringing out like a  gun shot  in that dark little alleyway.

Soda cringes from just the sound of the impact, but was amazed to find that the bat had warped under the force of it!

The attacker hardly had a chance to process his mangled weapon before Emizel whips around to retaliate.

It looked like he had just swung his hand at his opponent, so the way a shower of red spills outward from the slash, catches Soda completely off guard. The monster boy had cleaved an excruciatingly massive gash up from the attackers right hip, to his left shoulder, the slice spewing with scarlet.

 It wasn't until Emizel had pulled back his arm, that Soda could process the way it had darkened with more than just blood, distorted into an odd, spear-like shape.

The victim hardly had a chance to yelp before that blade swoops up into his chest at the speed of a snapping bear trap, plunging through meat and bone with disturbing ease, and forcing blood and viscera to erupt outwards. The red patters down onto the concrete behind, the sound similar to rain...

With another low, inhuman snarl, Emizel brings the twitching, dying body closer, until that signature squish of teeth sinking into fresh meat bleeds outward into the space.

What a disgusting sound, Sodas first instinct was to simply avert his eyes, but as the sound persists, he resolves that he has to do something.

He finally steps out into the alley, and speaks.

"Hey ma-"

He could hardly get two words out before Emizel suddenly rips its teeth away from its victims throat, tearing out a hefty chunk of jellied meat, and slamming the remaining fodder onto the concrete floor.

It immediately whips around to stare down Soda, red eyes glowing with reflected light, and with hardly a chance to process the moment-

-It's immediately right infront of Soda.

A gasp lurches from Soda's lungs as he almost stumbles back in shock. How was Emizel so fucking fast?

Other than that single step back, Soda was frozen in shock, his tongue buzzing with the physical pain of such a startling jolt. 'White boy jumpscare' is something that came to mind, but while usually such a thought would evoke some sort of laugh from Soda, this time it offered no such comfort. Okay maybe it did a little.

Emizels snarling face was only inches away from Sodas. Its eyes were wild and unnatural, teeth menacingly sharp and reddened with so much fucking blood. It was everywhere, coating most of his face, smothering his shirt and his coat, and absolutely choking the air with its thick, metallic stench.

Soda would gag if he felt he was safe to even move. He felt like he was locking eyes with that of a creature, something he would only ever see in his nightmares or in scary movies. But it was real. Those monsters are real. And his best friend is one of those monsters. His bestest friend in the world...

His mind was skewered on that unnatural glare, completely frozen with anxiety. Stalling too hard to come to a proper conclusion, Soda instead falls back onto what Soda does best.

"H-hey man... You want some soda?"

He very gently presses the opened bottle of Faygo into Emizels chest.

The two boys stand there for a moment, locked in a tense, silent pause, before the monster boy finally peels its gaze down to the bottle.

It's quiet, for a few seconds, the gears turning in its head. Until the monster blinks, and its eyes clear, and Emizel processes the sight of the bottle.

"Oh, fuck yeah dude, is that the Candy Apple Faygo? Man, that stuffs my favorite!" Emizel smiles as he goes to accept the bottle, and immediately takes a massive swig.

Soda tries to disregard the way his hands were still shaking. "Uh, n-nah man, its just Red Po-"

The words are bit off as Emizel suddenly retches, a heavy flood of red blood and red Faygo spewing out onto Soda, as the vampire boys body entirely rejects the fizzy drink.

The shock of getting fucking projectile vomited on had snapped Soda out of whatever daze he was just in, and it seemed to snap Emizel out of it too. Soda backs up with a groan, looking down at all the blood and bile and pop on his shirt and coat.

"Ohhh fuck dude, what the hell??" He cringes, not even wanting to try smearing any of it off with his hand.

Emizel was coughing, still holding out the Faygo bottle, but hunched over as his body dared to convulse again.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, ohhooohhh fuuuuucckkk" he grumbles towards the floor "Fuuuck I’m sorry dude, I don't know what fuckin- oohhhgg shit,” He coughs and groans,  offering the bottle back to Soda.

Soda was still staring at his messied coat with a displeased grimace, but looking up to meet Emizels eyes...

There was a guilt on Emizels face that Soda didn't see too often, and it helped wash away that irritation he felt. This sucked, but Emizel was probably going through a lot more. 

“It’s, uhm.. don't, don't worry about it, man..” Soda decides to reassure him, offering a sympathetic smile, and a hand on Emizels shoulder, as his comrade spits out the remaining blood and bile.

"Fuckin hell… I’m uh, I'm sorry about your shirt, man."

"What? Nahh it's okay man, don’t worry about it." Soda shrugs, taking the Faygo bottle back. "I mean, are you okay man? That uh.. looked like a pretty crazy fight."

Emizel was rubbing his eyes, smearing more blood across his face as he seems to be collecting himself. he spares a glance back at the carnage behind him.  

"Ah.. yeah.. I thought I uh.. I thought I saw that one fucker from uh. That one night. Yknow, the one that uh.." He snaps his fingers, as if trying to summon back the memory. "Vampire bitch... Anyway after that I just kind of, uh.."

He seems to space out again as he looks around. It was as if he was just woken up from a deep sleep, like he was certain he had just known what he was doing, but found the dream escaping him. "I guess I just.. went crazy on these guys. I dunno, they're Fangs anyways." he finally shrugs it all off, but Soda still felt unsatisfied by the answer.

"Oh.. huh…” is the only response he manages to scrounge together. Sure they were Fangs, but did they really deserve.. all that? It just seemed a bit brutal, even by Emizels standards.

He found his eyes wandering over to the split-open head. It was mostly red and bloody, but even in the dark, he could still make out some of the finer details of the gray jelly seeping from the gash. A human brain. He wondered if his own brain looked the same on the inside..

“So what are you doing out here, man?” Emizels question helps Soda pull his eyes away from the gore, instead looking over to his bloodied comrade.

Emizel looked messy and even exhausted, but his drowsy gaze was focused on Soda with a worried expression. 

“Oh, uh, yknow, just a soda run. Decided I would stock up on some Faygo from the Shady Shell.” Soda shrugs, his eyes flickering down to the opened Faygo in his hand. The top was covered in regurgitated blood. unnaturally blackened blood…

“Are you.. okay, by the way? Other than the whole..” Soda gestures vaguely at the gruesome crime scene. “Are you hurt?”

The question has Emizel pausing to consider. He straightens his back and stretches his arms, as if trying to detect any pain from any possible injury. Nothing seemed to be bothering him though, and after a second, he decides to shrug.

“Nah, I'm all good.”

“Oh.. That's good, I uh…” Soda found himself looking over Emizel aswell, searching for any wounds the monster boy might be simply disregarding, as he often does.

There was a fairly gnarly gash on his shin..

“Hey uh, I was actually gonna go hang out by the ledge down that way. Yknow, the one with the funny intersection.” Soda says, gesturing off towards where he intended to go. “Wanna come with?”

Emizel looks back that way, before turning back to Soda with a big smile on his face. 

“Oh hell yeah I do! I love the funny intersection!” he starts to walk down the alley, about to step over the body of the broken skull, when Soda speaks up.

“Uh, hey, shouldn't we uh.. Do something about the.. uh..” He waves a hand over towards the bodies, trying not to look directly at them. 

Emizel spares the corpses an inconvenienced glance, and a sigh, but ultimately shrugs them off. “Ehhh I'll just dump 'em in a dumpster again.. That's what I've been doing anyway.”

“And you're not worried about, like, anyone finding them?”

Soda anxiously watches on as Emizel paces around the body with the torn-out throat, licking the blood from his own mouth. Was his tongue always that long and pointed? That's neat, and normally Soda would point it out, but he was a bit.. preoccupied right now 

“Nahh not really. I haven't had anyone bother me at least.. Anyone been bothering you?” Emizels eyes finally flick back over to Soda. 

“Nah, I'd say things are actually more lax than usual. Anything that would end up being trouble’s been pretty much crushe- er, killed- destr- stamped out, by uh, by you.” Sods was cringing with every attempt to find a word that didn’t make his stomach turn, but Emizel didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Emizels eyes were currently a bit more focused on the body laying before him. He had that weird look on his face again… 

“Uhh, yeah, yeah that's good that uh, no troubles coming back to you guys…”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two as Emizel stares at this corpse, and Soda was about to open his mouth to fill the silence, but Emizel speaks up instead.

“Hey uh, why don’t you go ahead of me? I’ll uh, I'll meet you at the place.” He suggests, pointing vaguely off down the alley, but not removing his eyes from the kill. 

Soda certainly hesitates, his eyes narrowing before he even forms a thought. He opens his mouth to object, but then his eyes flicker back towards the body.

“Are you gonna eat this one too?”

The question leaves Sodas mouth as soon as it comes to mind.

Emizel pauses, and considers, before giving a shrug. “I don't see why not. Perfectly good blood.” He reaches down to grab his kill by the shirt, the one with the split open head. As the corpse rises from the concrete, gray matter drips and sloughs from the crack in its skull. Once again, Soda felt the need to look away, and yet his stupid eyes remained fixated on the horrendous sight. Emizel looks over the spilling brain of his meal, licking his lips curiously. “Dude, what do you think would happen if I ate his brain?” Emizel asks, looking back over to Soda with a wild, bloodied smile. Something about that look made Soda shiver, but.. Not really in a bad way… “Uh, I.. Dunno…. Eating a persons brain is how you get like, mad cow disease right? But you might also be immune to disease.. Are you immune to disease?” “Uhhh, I don't know yet actually. I'm still figuring out how much of this is like video games,” Emizel says, rubbing the back of his head as he idly sways the body of his kill around, watching the blood and gore drip and drop from its broken head. “Eh, I'll chance it later.” Without another word or thought, Emizel goes to sink his teeth into the shoulder of his kill, a pleased growl radiating from him as the blood gushes around the bite. More fresh blood upon less fresh blood upon old blood upon older blood. Just so much fucking blood. Soda thought he was used to seeing blood, but this… this was just egregious. Was he really starting to get used to this? It’s just blood after all, and it’s not from his comrades, so it's… fine… He finally manages to pull his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Emizel feeding, but his eyes instead wander down to the blood on his own shirt. Emizels blood was strange, darker than usual, and carrying a different scent. Something about the smell of his blood was more savory, more appealing than the standard metallic miasm. His shirt was smothered in it, his jacket was coated in it, and his opened bottle of Faygo was also splattered with the deep red ichor. Ink swirls within the bottle of red fizzy, spreading out into all sorts of odd patterns. It was a lot of blood. He was certain a lot of it came from however many people Emizels been feeding on. With how much hes been terrorizing the Fangs in just the last few days, and with how nonchalantly he feasts on his kills, who knows how much blood hes actually ingested… Soda swirls the bottle, watching the blood inside thin out into strands, dancing within the bubbly soda as they gradually dissipate, fully assimilating into the drink. A bad idea chews at the back of his head… The sound of ripping flesh once again knocks at Sodas head. He doesn’t look up this time, but he knew Emizel was just playing with his food again..  Did blood taste good to a vampire? Did some blood taste better than others? What did Sodas blood taste like? What did Emizels blood taste like? There's a visceral snap of something among the chewing and ripping, very clearly a bone or a joint snapping out of place. It made Soda shiver a little. When did his heart start pounding? There's an animal standing only 8 feet away from him, feeding on its kill. That animal is a person, and so is its kill. He wanted to know what vampire blood tasted like, but he already knew what human blood tasted like. It hung so densely in the air, he could feel it forming a vile film over his tongue. The blood of a person just like him. Eaten by an animal that eats people.  All this stress was no good. This bile rising to his throat was no good. This creeping anxiety was no good. He's friends with an animal that eats people. Would it eat him? This weird feeling was no good. Maybe it will never eat him. But it needs to eat people. This worry was no good. He needed to wash this awful taste from his mouth, replace it with something sweeter. He needed to keep his head clear enough to be there for Emizel when he needed to be. He needed to hold a light to these shadows. And he needed to stay positive, and drink soda. He takes a swig of the open Faygo bottle.

#NO MAIN TAGS WE DIE LIKE ROADKILL #WOW ISNT IT WEIRD THAT YOUR BESTEST FRIEND IN THE WHOOOLE WORLD EATS PEOPLE NOW #ISNT IT WEIRD THAT YOU KIND OF WISH YOU WOULD BE EATEN. EXCEPT NOT RLY BC U WOULD DIE. MAYBE HE COULD HAVE A NIBBLE #i might come back to ramble in the tags more later. STAY TUNED!!! #OKAY IM BACK TO RAMBLE. FIZZFAGS SEAL O APPROVAL IN THE TAGS U MEAN THE WWWOORRLLD TO MEEEE #THIS IS ALL YOUR FFAAAUULTT UR THE ONLY REASON THESE LOSERS ARE ROTATING IN MY BRAIN SO SO FAST #I DO INTEND TO WRITE MORE!! AND I DO INTEND TO LET IT GET WEIRDER #Iwanna make a lil chapter two w them hanging out at the funny intersection while soda maybe tries to patch emizel up. #wouldnt it be fucked up if u saw ur best friend get bled out n then sired right infront of u #and wouldnt it be fucked up if ina vampiric daze he almost sinks his crazy shark teeth into your throat #and wouldnt it be fucked up if you kinda wish he did. like not in a weird way or anything its not weird its not weird at all #RAAHH IM SO HAPPY THAT PPL LIKE MY WRITING STYLE N MY CHARACTERIZATIONS ASWELL IT MEANS SO MUCH TO MMEEEE #NICE WORDS GIVE ME SO MMUCH POOWWEERRRRR RAAGHGHHH!!!thank you guys for being so niceys to me #ive also been thinkin abt writing Post Suckening fics. EXCITED FOR SEASON TWO. in the meantime what if theo had to put up w shenanigens #one shenanigen for example being emizel going feral and attacking a comrade. #then theo needs to stake him n pull him aside n set him straight or something. set him gay. whatever. #ive also had an idea in my head. BC GABRIEL IS TOTALLY INSIDE OF EMIZELS BRAIN NOW #could u imagine doing acid or shrooms w ur homies n then suddenly ur nemesis is showing up in ur fractal hallucinations #anyway i think thats all da ramble i got in me. thanku for enjoying my writing thank yooouuu

[geekywritings]

“What now?” “You kiss me.”

Sooo, I was actually trying to work on the request with the sarcastic reader, but somehow the story took a life of its own. Buuut, I kinda like the result, so I want to share it with you anyway. I will get to the request once sarcastic muse hits!

So have instead a reader that uses sarcasm, flirtation and wit as a shield, but Cal sees right through it. Let’s just say, reader is having some trouble witht that and cuteness ensues.

___

Witty, sarcastic, snarky and flirtatious. Those were the words most would use to describe you and you were fine with it. The quips and dry jokes were your shield. You last defense after being betrayed one time too often.

You could easily joke with people, because that meant you could leave serious topics aside and drown your fear. Your “What are you afraid of? As if these guys can even shoot properly” during battle was the perfect cover for trying to suppress the memory of this type of weapons being aimed at you and your master.

Flirting was another great tactic to keep people emotionally at arm’s length. Because as long as you flirted, nobody asked anything deeper. Your heart was safe as long as everything remained superficial. And for the longest time, that had worked great.

Until you met Cal Kestis.

Despite everything you tried, he was worming his way through your defenses one smile and kind gesture at a time.

He laughed at your sarcastic quips during battle, when you mocked your enemies, but always asked if you were alright afterward.

He accepted the nicknames you were throwing his way, but always gave you that special smile that had your heart skip a beat whenever you did call him by his name.

He got angry when you flirted with some random guy, constantly stepping in and taking over the conversation himself and he always had a comeback for whatever witty comment you offered.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

You had been betrayed by your soldiers. You had been betrayed by the person who had initially offered you shelter and protection. And you had been betrayed by a man you thought had loved you. You were done trusting.

But how could you not trust Cal? How could you not fall in love when he proved every day that he was different?

“Why are you like this?”, you exploded one evening, the frustration breaking through, while you sat over a game of sabacc together in the Mantis. The two glasses of alcohol you’ve had probably weren’t helping.

“Like what?”, Cal asked, visibly taken aback.

“Like… you.”

Your less than clear answer earned you a raised brow.

“I have no clue what you mean.”

A frustrated huff escaped your lips and you leaned back on the couch, the game forgotten for a moment.

“Kind. Understanding. Loyal. Empathetic. Gentle. Funny. Bloody handsome too!”, you enumerated.

“And that’s bad?”

“Yes!”

“How much did you have to drink?”

You gave him a sarcastic look at that. “Clearly not enough.”

Cal leaned back himself, wondering where this was all coming from.

“You are making it so bloody hard, you know?”, you continued. “To not fall in love with you.”

You had tacked on the explanation before he could ask about it and the words had both of you go absolutely still. Only the humming of the engine was heard, as the Mantis rushed through hyperspace.

“You are in love with me?”, the red-haired Jedi was the first to speak hesitantly.

“No… Yes… I...” You sighed. “I didn’t want to fall in love again. I didn’t want to trust again. Why do you think I kept calling you Starboy instead of your name for the first few weeks? I thought you’d just leave anyway.”

“But I didn’t leave.”

“No, somehow you didn’t. And you always laughed at my stupid dry jokes.”

“I didn’t think they were stupid.”

“And you were never put off by my sarcasm somehow.”

“I think it’s actually endearing.”

“And that’s the problem, Cal! You are perfect. For me… and I… I’m not ready to have my heart pulled out, quartered, fried and served in pieces again.”

You were on the brink of something here, Cal sensed it and he chose his next words with care. “And you think I would do that to you?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he stared at you.

Seconds ticked by until you breathed a simple: “No.”

Slowly, Cal shifted closer to you on the couch, but didn’t dare reach out.

“You are special to me, Y/N. I would rather face Vader again than hurt you like you have been hurt before.”

Wait, what? He sounded as if he knew, even though you had never revealed the betrayals that plagued your heart. He seemed to read your expression just right, because he rubbed his neck, almost a little embarrassed all of a sudden.

“Psychometry… I can’t always control it. I saw things… when I cleaned away some of your clothes.”

“When?”

“Shortly after we’ve met.”

You were left stunned. He had always known and he had never treated you with pity or tried to offer support where it wasn’t asked for. He had just been himself around you.

“What now?”, he asked after another silence, unsure where you stood at this point.

“You kiss me, Starboy. That’s what.”

He did. There would be time to continue this strangely deep talk later.

#cal kestis #cal kestis x yn #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #jedi survivor

[sgt-morgan]

Angst related to season 2 with elektra coming back and current gf struggling with insecurities regarding her relationship with Matt

Deserving ❤️‍🩹

Summary: You and Matt are in a situationship, and Elektra seems to spell trouble for your budding romance.

Warnings:AFAB & Female identifying reader, angsty, hurt comfort. I am not super versed in the art of angst, and I don’t know what to tag. If you want a warning here it is.

A/N: I hope this satisfied your ask, I want more of them! I hope this is what you wanted!

Daredevil Masterlist

Jesus sweet Christ. She was back. Long black hair, Hot as the ninth level of hell, knows how to kick ass, clever, rich. Not a lot to compete with there, you supposed, she’s just… hotter? It just… didn’t make sense to you, if Matt had access to all… that. Why in the name of all hell was he choosing to date an obnoxious, mouthy, poor, accident prone lawyer with no notable features to mention. It made exactly no sense. You weren’t that serious you supposed, you sort of dated, three real dates, patching a lot of bruises, snuggles on couches, you supposed that you were considered his girlfriend. Maybe not though, I mean Jesus, she is both named and dressed like a mortal combat character. On a good day all you could compare yourself to was someone from street fighter two. How were you to compete? Someone was clearly winning here, and you didn’t feel like it was you.

They had totally fucked too. The body language, the smiles, the communication? They knew each others bodies. No denying chemistry. You were confused about all your feelings too. Was this jealousy? No, it felt more like… resignation? Like okay, hot boyfriend has a super, SUPER hot ex, there’s very obviously some unrequited feeling, you are a worm and they’re bald eagles. Eagles don’t date worms, they consume them then fly off to their hotter eagle-y girlfriends and sometimes maybe reminisce about how good the worm was, before remembering how much cooler their girlfriend was. God, this sucked. But, then again, you remembered them dating in college, and she made Matt miserable for a time. You remembered stories from college, you remembered how long putting Matt back together took for you and Foggy. You remembered how hard he fought being loved. Remembered his belief that he was a terrible person. Remembered the long road back to happiness. Surely, you thought, surely there was no love lost there. She just needed his help, Daredevil’s help. They didn’t want each other. They were like oil and water. It would be fine. You decided to give Matt the benefit of the doubt.

You two worked and acted as if nothing was wrong. However, while for you it was an act, for Matt, he saw it as a sign that he could lean in on what he was trying to accomplish with Elektra. It was taking its toll, but Matt was yet to notice. It was horrible, you felt miserable, and you had no other choice but to simply wait it out. You knew he would make the right choice eventually, but when?

Sometime in the middle of this you’re approached by Jeri Hogarth. It’s a good offer, smart, pays good, right in your wheelhouse, and with a shining endorsement from Jessica Jones. (Or as shining anything Jessica says can get.) It seems tempting, but you don’t accept. You can’t, not when you Foggy, and Matt have built so much. Then he doesn’t show to court.

“Mathew! You can’t just bail on this case! There’s no way we can do it if you’re not-“

“We’re sorry, you’ve run out of time.”

“Damn it!” You slammed your phone down and continued to pace, waiting for Matt but he never showed. You knew about the Roxxon Gala, but with him putting all of your necks on the line for Frank fucking castle, you expected him to show. Not only that, but he’s bailed on dates, she’s staying in his apartment, she looks at you like you’re garbage and Matt just… lets her. Jeri’s offer weighs. It gets more attractive by the hour.

“I’m here!” He cries, finally bursting through the first set of doors, you usher him in, and witness the whispered argument between him and Foggy and don’t really think much of it. One time mistake, he will do better, besides, we’re saving the world here.

Things keep spiraling though, and you’re having to do friendship triage. You have to take the brunt of his and Foggy’s headbutting. It’s obnoxious, when you built this practice, you did it to make your lives better, not ruin your friendships. It’s weighing on you. Matt can tell, and the guilt he feels is unmatched. He just can’t stop. This feels too big too… important. Then one ninja battle too far puts you over the edge.

“Matt! Are you here? We need your he-“ there she is. In his bed. In your clothing. “Oh.” Your voice comes out strained and small. Matt has never heard it that quiet. That defeated.

“Honey it’s not-“ but he doesn’t get that far. Your whole body just… deflates. He can hear the silent tears, feels the shuddering. You’re done. This was the last straw. He can tangibly feel you slipping through his fingers, hears the shatter of your heart and that’s when he knows he’s been a fool. “Oh. Oh my love.” He coos, reached for you, desperate to put back all that he’s broken, trying to stop the sand spilling out the hour glass. You flinch away. His whole heart shatters. Breaks to a million pieces and falls there at your feet.

“Matt I-“ you shrug, a mirthless laugh shudders through your tears. “I don’t even know what to say here.” He drops his head and nodded, properly scolded.

“No. I- I don’t blame you.” He nods, gesturing towards the bedroom. “She was stabbed, it was poison- I… It’s not about that though. I know.”

“Do you?” You sniffle. “I don’t think you do. Matt I-“ You sighed and gathered your things. “I had to help put you back together with my own two hands Matthew, she ruined you, and you’re letting her do it again. I don’t even recognize you anymore. That’s sad Matt, because I was just starting to love you. I’m… I’m done.”

Then, you were gone. Your letter of resignation was on their desks promptly by 7 am, you accepted the job with Jeri Hogarth, and that was it. Matt fucked it all up. He kept fighting, but there, all day every day was this immense pain. He has lost You. You, the woman who every day smiled at him, and made him a coffee, and joked about his night life, you who never once required him to give up a part of himself to save your friendship, you, who had loved him. Loved him completely. He’d lost it all. Then, he lost some more. Frank castle had disappeared, and they had lost the case. Foggy and Karen left, Elektra died. He was all alone.

Then like the warm sun after a long winter, you came. It was the day of Elektra’s funeral.

“You’ve gotta let ‘em all go Matty. It’s time. I’ve told you, over and over, going have to let go of your emotional ties. You’re weak with them.” Stick shrugged, “without them, you could accomplish so much more.”

Matt chuckled bitterly, “No. You’ve taken too much from me already, but you won’t take my heart. Elektra is dead, we defeated the hand for now, but I never would have even thought it was worth it if it weren’t for them. For Elektra, Karen, Foggy. They are worth it. My love for them is worth it.” He shook his head, and tears welled in his eyes. “Y/N was worth it too, and you took that from me, you and Elektra and your little games. You took it from me, and Y/N may hate me. God! I hope she does hate me! She was the one good thing I had Stick, she put back together all those little shattered bits, and built me back into the man I am today. Then, I repay her with this.” He gestures to Elektra’s grave, to the city at large, to himself. “She was beautiful, and kind, and perfect. She made me happy. She made me want to keep fighting for this stupid city, and now Elektra is dead, you’re still here ruining my life, and Y/N hates me. Even with all that, it was worth it. Because if for one second, she is safer than she was before I made this sacrifice. Then fighting to the death, for this city, for her, is worth it. I love her Stick, that’s the only thing that keeps me going. I love her, and now she’s safe. Safe from the hand, safe from Frank Castle, and she’s safe from me. Knowing that Y/N has a chance to flourish and grow, that’s what makes all this fighting, this pain, the devil. It makes it all worth while. If I give that up, what is it all for?” Then he sat in silence, and stick went away.

At first, sitting there at Elektra’s grave, he thought the smell of your perfume was a hallucination. Another stray temptation, another ghost of a memory come to haunt him. He treasured it though, even the idea of you was a beautiful thing. He embraced the memory, though it was painful. Then he was enveloped on it, the smell surrounded h, then he realized he was no longer alone. He froze. Then his senses started to catch up to his reeling mind. The smell, the faint taste of the sweat of your brow in the breeze, the sound of your breath. You were there. You were there, sitting and staring at Elektra’s grave, holding flowers. Then you reached out a hand, and stroked his cheek. He pushed his face into your palm, starving for your touch. He whimpered, the tears he was holding finally let loose. Then you were speaking.

“I don’t hate you Matt. I couldn’t if I tried.” You sighed and bundled him to you. Placing the flowers on the bench and holding him as he cried. You had heard everything.

“I never got the chance to tell you.” He cried, “you were gone- I let you go. But I never told you.” His sobs wracked his body, and you ached with their severity.

“Tell me what Matty?” You shushed, drying tears and attempting to coax him to an answer.

“I never told you I loved you.” He sighed and clutched your face in his hands. “It’s you, it’s always gonna be you. I love you, I love your humor, your laugh, your smell, the touch of your hands can cure my every wound. It’s always been you. I was just too stupid to see you slipping away. I never wanted to loose you. You’re my everything, I just never said anything because- because you deserve so much better than me. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh Matthew,” you began to cry as well, “My sweet, imbecilic devil man. You always deserved me, every day you throw your life on the line for us, for this city. I always thought you deserved me, and I deserve you. I didn’t see that at first, and I should have fought for it. I left you when you needed me, and I’ll never forgive myself”

“No!” He cried, pressing your foreheads together frantically. “You will never take the blame for this. I was wrong you deserved the best of me, and I didn’t give it. I gave up? I was a fool.”

You laughed and nuzzled your noses closer. “Then let’s call it a draw and say we were both foolish. We can be fools together. We deserve each other.”

#marvel daredevil #daredevil x you #daredevil one shot #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagines #netflix daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #marvel's daredevil #daredevil #matt murdock series #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock au #matty boy #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #mattfoggy

[perpetualexistence]

Coils and Toils

Alenoah Week Day 3: Role Swap / TDWT Ending Rewrite

I decided to use woah-i-am-here's roleswap Alenoah for my funky little AU for today. The personalities are based mostly on their AU, and most of Alejandro's backstory is as well. Noah's I took more creative liberties with. It was a bit hard to translate that one over with this being a naga AU.

Because this is me, I couldn't help but make this a tiny bit dark at the end. So I'm just going to put a content warning for murder here to be safe.

Alejandro and Noah are fine! ...Someone else, not so much.

Alejandro is forced to go on his family's annual hunting trip. It's a week-long 'bonding' activity. He really doesn't care for it. He knows it's just an excuse for his parents to brag about traveling the world and conquering nature. José always turns it into this big competition that no one asked for, gets their parents praise, and rubs it into Alejandro's face. It's predictable, it's annoying, and it's bound to drive Alejandro up a wall.

The instant they split up, Alejandro focuses on putting as much distance between himself and the rest of his family. He's not going to hunt a damn thing. He'l just have 'bad luck'. It's an excuse he's used before, but it's not like they can truly make him do anything. He turns off his walkie talkie, the only thing that works in these godforsaken woods, because otherwise he'll have to hear his brother incessantly praising himself for each kill he bags. He has a bag of supplies, GPS included, and a gun. He'll be fine.

As he walks through the woods, he starts to notice strange markings on the ground. He'd mistake them for signs of animals having passed by. Except this looks wider than something like a bear having pushed through some brush. He climbs up a tree to get a better vantage point. From here, he can notice that it looks more like something large was dragged through the woods. The concerning part is it was dragged continuously. As if whatever was doing the dragging was having no issue in doing so. Despite the thing being as wide as train tracks.

That's when he heard the rustling. He couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it was getting louder.

Climbing down would attract too much attention. He could only cling against the tree as tightly as he could, and hope whatever it was didn't look up.

"Oh. You're new." said the voice that came from his right.

He dared to turn his head. He met the gaze of two slitted pupils.

Alejandro was over 12 meters off the ground and he was directly meeting the gaze of another.

He looked down to see the torso of the giant he was now looking at connected not to legs, but to a snake's tail.

He's grateful his instinct was to cling tighter to the tree, and not to loosen his grip.

After Alejandro successfully doesn't faint, the two get into proper greetings. Noah's incredibly polite, and is clearly doing everything in his power to make himself come off as careful about the height difference as possible. He's controlled in every action he takes.

...Too controlled for someone currently claiming that he's lived by himself in the woods his entire life. If he had, then he probably wouldn't know to control his volume or have anything resembling manners.

Alejandro calls him out on this, which shocks Noah for a bit. Not only that Alejandro found him out, but also that he'd have the courage despite Noah's size advantage. Alejandro realizes he might have screwed up hard, except Noah laughs and lets some of his mask slip.

He tells something closer to the truth this time. He's from the fae realm, and got cursed to look like this. He's trapped in these woods, serving as its guardian. Meaning he does need to know why Alejandro's trespassing.

Now it's Alejandro's turn to start lying his ass off. He knows about the fae thanks to reading, but he has no idea how much is true and how much isn't. He doesn't know what answer is acceptable, what answer will get him killed, and he doesn't know if Noah can read people.

He admits to being on a hunting trip, but he hadn't killed anything yet as his priority was finding somewhere to make camp. He didn't know he was trespassing, and wants to ask proper permission to stay in the woods for a week. He says nothing about the rest of his family because he knows that they've certainly killed animals by now.

Noah chooses to believe him. And because Alejandro did ask nicely (though with a bit of sarcasm since he couldn't help himself), Noah will let him stay. But he's only allowed to hunt what he needs to in order to survive. In return, Noah will promise not to hurt him. He'll even make a fae bargain, so both are bound to keep to their deal.

Alejandro doesn't really have much choice but to accept. Not that he planned to do any hunting anyways, but he has to go with this now or risk Noah catching wise. Noah lets him know that if Alejandro needs anything, Noah'll stay around here to make himself easier to find.

So Alejandro is allowed to leave to 'go find a place to make camp'. Which means returning to his family's camp and checking that Noah isn't following him. At least he's too loud to get away with sneaking up on the human.

Still, now Alejandro is going to have to convince his family not to go near the area Noah is in. He can't tell them Noah exists. They'll think he's finally lost it. Instead, he settles for committing to heading in that direction when his family splits apart to hunt each morning.

He doesn't have to actually go anywhere near Noah's slithering grounds. He just needs everyone else to think he's going there.

...Yet, Noah has been the most interesting thing that's happened to him in quite a while. The only other person who has proven to be an intellectual match to Alejandro is Jose. And he's insufferable. Noah is dangerous, certainly, but he isn't hard to be around. So long as Alejandro is careful about what he says. Besides, if he can keep Noah occupied, then he'll know that the rest of his family is safe.

This has absolutely nothing to do with how attractive Noah is or how his laugh made Alejandro melt like butter.

So he goes back to Noah the next day and says he wants to know more about Noah.

"Sure, I'm an open book." Noah replied. "You're as open as a mouse trap." Alejandro retorted.

This gets another laugh out of Noah, and the two begin to bond.

Over time Noah reveals that he hates the outdoors. He misses being small enough to read in peace. Not that he even has any reading material on him. But Alejandro does since his original plan had been to find a spot in the forest to read the entire time. So he pulls out one of his books and offers to read it aloud to Noah.

"Is that the only one you have?"

"I thought you were desperate enough to read anything."

"I just want to know what my options are. I don't want to read anything trashy if you're holding out on me."

This would be enough to make Alejandro snicker at how spoiled Noah was acting. He might have been imagining things, but he swore he saw the tip of Noah's tail flicker in delight at the sound.

Alejandro found himself going from keeping a respectable distance from Noah to leaning against the naga's coils.

Alejandro would begin to open up about his family. How he tires of playing second fiddle to Jose, and how his parents do everything in their power to encourage him. They put on a show for the world to see that Alejandro is 'lucky' enough to be a part of. He tried to show Jose up, once upon a time. But loss after loss whittled away at him. Until there was nothing left but a bitter, snarky teenager who would rather stay in his room than deal with anybody. Still with the knowledge of how to charm and fight, but none of the motivation.

It would lead to Noah opening up about his own family. He came from a line of powerful fae. Having eight siblings in the fae realm meant they were constantly fighting for everything. He was last in line to inherit anything by birthright. If he wanted anything, he'd have to fight for it. As the youngest, Noah could never hope to win in a battle of strength. He adapted to winning battles of wit instead.

He didn't care that he had to fight dirty. He never got a fair chance in a fight with his siblings. Why should he return the favor? The only way he'd beat his siblings is if he performed just a minor coup, so he did. Or well, he tried. He underestimated his parents' ability to catch on to his tricks.

So they cursed him. "You'll live as you truly are in the wild until you learn the sanctity of a life." Rather shitty of them to exile their own child instead of acknowledging the environment they created in the first place. But, oh well. Noah's here now. ...and it feels surprisingly refreshing to let his guard down and tell someone else this.

Alejandro is reminded that he should in no way shape or form trust someone who tried 'a minor coup' on his own parents. ...But it is nice to have Noah agree that Alejandro's parents and brother are in fact terrible. He'd been around so many sycophants to the Burromuerto name, he thought he must be the mad one for thinking ill of them.

Sadly though, the week is up before they know it. Alejandro is going to have to go back home, and miss his new boyfriend. Alejandro finishes reading the last book he brought over so Noah can have a proper ending. At this point, he's grown so comfortable with Noah that he's nestled in between Noah's loose coils. Noah could kill him easily anyways, so why deny himself something so warm and cozy?

By the end, Noah gifts him the largest moose he can find. It'll be rations for the road, plus the antlers will make for a good hunting trophy. He knows it's gauche but his options for giving gifts as a giant snake thing are limited.

Alejandro suspects something's up by the look in Noah's eyes, but doesn't say anything. Rejecting Noah's gift would be a terrible idea if fae work how he thinks they work. He could just bury the gift when he's far enough away from Noah. He can't imagine anything good would come from bringing this to his family.

...Yet he's so tired of them. He feels more comfortable with a stranger he's only known for a week than with his own family sitting down for dinner. That stranger could squeeze him to death without a second thought and he'd still trust Noah more than he would trust Jose not to find an excuse to shoot him in the head when he's in a mood. So you know what? Whatever happens to his family will just have to happen to them.

He takes the gift back to his family so he can actually win at something for once. Jose tries to play it off, but it is the biggest thing hunted, so that's what the Burromuertos decide to eat as their final meal here before heading out.

Alejandro, not trusting Noah, wisely waits for everyone else to eat the food first. He gets away with it because the second they take a bite, they're hooked. They're scarfing the food down like animals. He pushes his portion into the fireplace. He's grateful he did when his mother starts coughing, then gasping, then choking for air and foaming at the mouth. Soon followed by his brother, then his father.

Noah said his new body reflected his true self. Alejandro isn't surprised that means he's a venomous snake.

Noah slithers quietly behind him. He's genuinely happy that Alejandro did survive this. Because if he didn't, Alejandro wasn't the type of person Noah thought he was.

"If you hadn't found a way around it, then you weren't worth all the time and effort I put into you. And that would have been such a pity, truly."

Noah knew Alejandro was lying about being by himself the whole time, and that it was probably because his family had been hunting without his permission. Fae rules said he had to do something about it, and from how Alejandro described them, there was absolutely no reason to let them live. Alejandro getting caught in the crossfire was a calculated risk. 'Noah' couldn't harm Alejandro, but that isn't to say one of his gifts couldn't.

However, he genuinely thought he had done a great job of gaining Alejandro's trust. He believed Alejandro had no idea the gift was a trap, or at least didn't realize it until later. To find that Alejandro actually did know that the gift was tainted from the beginning, and that he still chose to give it to his family? He's delighted. Especially when Alejandro admits he's not that worked up about their deaths as he feels he should be. And when Alejandro pulls one last contigency:

Noah never gave an end condition to when he could harm Alejandro. So as long as Alejandro only hunts for food and not for sport, Noah can't cause any direct harm to him, ever.

Noah could of course try to find another work around to get rid of a final loose end. But he's much happier to offer him a place in the woods for as long as Alejandro wants. And he wants to start dating Alejandro properly. Alejandro has nowhere else to go, and he's much happier here than he's ever been. So he agrees to the home, and to being Noah's boyfriend.

Noah takes care of Alejandro, and Alejandro works on a way to break Noah free from his curse. 'A life' could just mean one person specifically after all. So if Alejandro just makes sure that person is him, he'd be set for life.

Everyone else?

Not their problem.

#alenoah week #alenoah week 2024 #alenoahweek2024 #alenoahweek 2024 #total drama #td noah #total drama noah #td alejandro #total drama au #total drama alejandro #giant/tiny #g/t #sfw giant/tiny #role swap au #naga!Noah AU #perp writing #perp fic writing #fanfiction #total drama fanfiction #total drama fanfic #again this is more of a oneshot au than a fanfic proper #but this is nearly 2.5K words #I say it counts #murder #cw murder #tw murder

[wander-wren]

small things to stop doing in your fics

(or any kind of writing, but i live on ao3. we begin with flat-out crimes and then slowly start moving into things that just bug me personally but aren’t wrong)

epithets. if i’ve said it once, i’ve said it a thousand times. you should only be using epithets for characters whose names we do not know. they can also be used VERY rarely to break up the repetition of names/pronouns or to emphasize characters’ relationships/viewpoints, ie “his boyfriend” or “the asshole.”

writing out accents. please stop. you can include a couple of small things, like “somethin’” or “ya” (for “you”), but even keep that to a minimum. specific turns of phrase/references go way farther imo to establish a character’s culture/background/etc. a little goes a long way, and doing it repeatedly can make sentences hard to parse. this also! applies! to children and babytalk! have you ever listened to a child speak? toddlers can enunciate pretty well!

not enough commas. put commas before names and titles. it’s not “Hey John” or “I’m on it captain,” it’s “Hey, John” and “I’m on it, captain.” also, put them after discourse markers/interjections such as “well,” “so,” and “now.” you should be writing “So, how are the kids?” not “So how are the kids?” even if your character is speaking quickly, you still want the commas because of grammar. it can occasionally be acceptable to omit them if you want to indicate extreme excitement/panic/anger/etc, but use it sparingly.

too many commas. i’m a comma fiend like the rest of you so i’m guilty here too, but we gotta at least stop with the comma splices. commas split and independent and dependent clause, meaning that one part of the sentence cannot grammatically stand alone. if all parts are complete sentences on their own, that’s a comma splice. try splitting it into two sentences, using a semicolon, or rewriting. this is usually fine in dialogue, though, that’s just how people talk.

also, using a lot of commas to denote panic is something i used to be HUGELY guilty of and now i hate it. instead of, “I, I, I don’t, I don’t know,” you can try, “I-I…I don’t—I don’t know!” probably not that much punctuation that close together, but for the sake of example. emdashes and ellipses, my beloveds 🫶

roleplay speak. i don’t know what else to succinctly call this? i’m referring to the tendency to be redundant and over-explain, especially in dialogue. it’s a phenomenon i see constantly in rp circles, usually because of post length requirements (and i have little issue with it there, it’s just the culture). things like:

“Surprise!” Adam shouted, popping out from behind the door.

“Oh my god!” Scott screamed, having been completely startled and not expecting Adam to be home yet.

yeah, we can guess that Scott is startled, right? because of the screaming? and clearly if Adam is surprising Scott it stands to reason his presence is unexpected? why are we stating this twice?

i believe this also comes from the mistaken idea that every line of dialogue needs a tag attached, which is….horrible. you can let the dialogue exist on its own sometimes, friends. you can also include an action beat without a tag. like above, i could have just said “Adam popped out from behind the door” and omitted the shouting altogether. we can assume he is being loud because that’s usually how people do surprises. anyway. moving on.

condescending to readers. this isn’t so much about writing as it is author’s notes and the like, and “condescending” may be a strong word, but i’m trying to be succinct. at any rate, please stop telling your audience to not read your fic? “do not read if sensitive to [blank]” or “if you have [disorder] skip this fic!” is a horrible way to trigger warn. people know their own boundaries. tell them what the work actually contains and let them self-select.

i also find “rest stop/check-in” type notes condescending, like “if you are reading this between the hours of 10pm-4am, go to sleep” and “STOP! have you eaten/drank/walked around in the past few hours? go do that!” again, we know ourselves. i’m not your kid, don’t tell me what to do. i don’t mind a polite, casual little “thanks for reading, remember to drink water and take your meds, bye” note, though.

the others in this category? i will straight up not read the fic over that on some days. ESPECIALLY because, in my experience, the people who are most intense about warning for every little thing are the ones with the mildest fics, and that’s not what i’m here for.

complaining about your own wrong tags. this is, admittedly, such a nitpick, and it definitely is more common in certain communities than others. but as longtime followers may know, i’m a bit obsessed with ao3’s tagging system and it drives me BONKERS when people use the wrong tags and follow it with “not actually but there’s no tag for xyz.” here’s the thing: you can still look at all the works that have ANY tag, just the non-canonized ones can’t be filtered on. and the best way to get a tag canonized is, guess what, to USE it! imagine that. also, if you’re using the wrong tag, you’re just going to clog the filter results and get people who don’t actually want to read your fic. just stop.

#writing advice #fanfiction #wren writes #writeblr #this has been in my drafts for a while getting things added to it as i come across them #i think it’s good now #feel free to add your own grievances as long as they’re small #last addition was the commas bc i just dnf’d a fic for having like no commas ever #why is every character talking at warp speed i cant focus #also yes i’m a hypocrite bc you can probably find at least most of these in my fics. ik i have the rp speak one very recently. but thats bc #its a rp turned fic and i’m lazy about editing #i dont mind it in that case i think rp fics are fun its when its clearly Not a rp fic that i get annoyed by it

[qqueenofhades]

i know you've talked about this before but i just saw someone say obama had 59 senate seats and a 78 house seat majority and he "could've done anything" and i can't. when did peoples' collective memory get so shit? i was in middle school for most of his presidency and even i knew back then how hostile the republicans were to him. what is this revisionist history people are insistent on engaging in like i just don't get it. it's so easy to look back from where we are now and act like people back then didn't try hard enough and it's infuriating

"Obama could have done anything." Sure, when he came into office in the middle of a global economic meltdown and somewhat understandably, put that first, even when the Republicans had already declared their firm intention, in the middle of said financial emergency, not to work with him ever on anything and to make him a one-term president. And yet, still got the $787 billion stimulus through (which at the time was just an Absurd level of Government Spending Oh Noes!!!) and in fact managed to stop things from getting even worse.

"Obama could have done anything." Sure, for the first half of his first term where he had full control of Congress (4 months with 60 seats) and aside from said minor economic problem, was also trying to get the Affordable Care Act done. After 2010 he lost the House; after 2014 he lost the Senate. There are plenty of critiques to be made with the benefit of hindsight about how the Democrats did or did not push to change the procedural rules (something they still can't do now with a much smaller majority and Joe Fucking Manchin reliably on hand to torpedo it), or how they did or did not campaign on the ACA, or how they got punished for it, or how Obama's political inexperience and knowledge that the Republicans were going to crucify him but he still tried to work with them did or did not play into it. The point is, to act like he had those whopping majorities for his entire two terms (and that they automatically just did whatever he said, thanks to his magic mind-control powers) is nonsense.

"Obama could have done anything." As the first African-American president who faced ungodly levels of hate, racism, paranoia, personal attacks, personal attacks on his family, attempts to prove he "wasn't American," Tea Party conspiracies, and Christ knows what else, all while he had to not put a single foot wrong in any scandal, no matter how minor, for eight years. (Which he did!) If only Obama had KNOWN that he could have just done anything and this would totally happen and be fine and never be subject to legal challenges or anything! The Republicans haven't spent a decade since trying to destroy the ACA or anything like that, not ever. Why didn't he use his psychic powers to peer into the future and realize that Roe, universally regarded as settled law, was going to be overturned thanks to an orange maniac and a dark-money federalist judiciary effort! Why didn't he predict that American white fragility was going to backlash in the form of Trump and just never run for president at all? HIS FAULT! THANKS, OBAMA!

"Obama could have done anything." Because he was a wizard, because the Democratic Party and the country was exactly the same 15 years ago, because 2008 was completely identical to 2023 in its social priorities, political issues, cultural beliefs, and other material, and because we can happily act as if Trump never existed, his effect on the American social, political, and racial zeitgeist never existed, because everything is Obama/the Democrats' fault somehow for Not Doing Enough, and nothing to do with anything else, ever. Clearly nothing to do with these fuckwits and their chucklefuck revisionist purity ideology and deliberate refusal to learn or accept anything that contradicts that, i.e. basic reality and history. Nosirreebob.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[pav-ia]

hello! So happy that someone is doing Pavia x reader, I have been obsessed with this man since the game released.

Can you do coming out to Pavia as genderfluid/transmasc?

thank you :3

uwaaaa this req is so cute ily anon

i hope u dont mind if i just did a very non gender specific “coming out” comfort ^^ lmk if u want it to be more specific c:

——

cw: gn reader, fluff, reader comes out to pavia, pre established relationships, pavia calls you (hopefully) gn petnames in italian

this has been weighing on your mind for a while now.

you know he knows youre anxious about something — hes just perceptive like that.

it took a while for you to come to this decision, but you feel like its taken just as long to find the courage to tell him.

“seriously cuore mio, whats up with you?” he asks, leaning over you. you had been staring absentmindedly at the counter for god knows how long, as he pressed his chest to your back to grab a spoon from the cabinet above you.

“its nothing-! im fine.” you quickly assure him. he gives you a skeptical look, but doesnt pry as he returns to the sofa where he was lounging just moments prior.

god, it was admittedly hard to sleep that night. the question weighed on your mind — do you tell him? or do you just leave the question there? maybe you could hint at it, or just ignore it, tell him at a later date.. its all so confusing.

he didnt push your boundaries at all, but did offer his assistance if you needed it. you declined out of anxiety.

…

maybe you should tell him.

but any attempts at explaining your current crisis to him ended up with you awkwardly shifting the conversation to a separate topic.

eventually after many failed attempts, you decide on writing it out. you could clearly and properly explain your emotions, your decision and you wouldnt miss a beat.

the letter ended up being quite short, actually. you couldnt decide on how to phrase it, and you realized that you didnt have anything to say other than just a simple “i think i prefer this gender identity!”

you stuffed the note in your pocket. youd leave it on his nightstand tomorrow.

that very day, you two had a date planned. you had your hand stuffed down your pocket, fiddling with the corner of the small paper as he took you out to shopping, insisting you try on different outfits hed picked out for you — as you stepped out of the changing room, he had a suspicious grin on his face.

he handed you your jacket, insisting on checking out with the pieces you liked(even if you were hesitant to accept), and guided you out of the boutique. he was oddly quiet as you walked down the street, unfolding the wrapper of a lollipop and placing it on his tongue before his gaze drifted down to you.

“you do know you are vita mia to me?” he said with a small smile. you tilt your head to the side nodding slowly. hed used quite a lot of various nicknames on you, so you assumed it was affectionate.

“so tell me— is this why youve been so stressed this week?” he twirls something between his fingers, and you realize that its the note you were planning on giving to him. your eyes widen, but he takes the candy out of his mouth and presses his lips to your forehead before you could speak.

“i love you. im happy you trust me with this, splendore.”

#%write #pavia x reader #pavia reverse 1999 x reader #pavia fluff #pavia reverse 1999 #pavia x you

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

ahhh i love it when lucifer fumbles the bag hard so can you do “why is it that when you look at me I know you’re thinking of someone else?” and “I have given you everything including myself if that isn’t enough then nothing will be”

❤️Prompt List❤️

Lucifer is furious, however, he can’t decide who he should direct his anger to. Perhaps Asmodeus? Who helped you sneak out to a bar in the human world, completely ignoring Lucifer’s messages of asking where exactly you both were. Or maybe even you, for also ignoring his messages, staying out until unreasonable hours of morning and returning back, reeking of alcohol, clinging to Asmodeus’ arm. Or himself. As when he asked the others if they knew of your whereabouts. Satan was the only one to reply yes, but refused to answer where. "Maybe you should ask yourself why they might have decided to go somewhere, without letting you know." A very sharp reply, that stung enough to make Lucifer hold his tongue.

He decides to keep his anger thinly veiled for the moment, sending Asmo to his room with a glare, who softly pats your back and murmurs to you. “Let me know if you need anything sweetie.” Before pushing past his elder brother. And as for you, he’s grabbed you by the hand, directing you to the kitchen to drink water. Not a word between either of you exchanged as he marches and you stumble next to him. Only when you appear to sober up enough to walk, does he speak to you. 

"Do you know how worried I've been?" He hisses, as you lean against the kitchen counter, drinking another glass of water that he forced upon you. You take a gulp of the water, before slamming it down, spilling most of its contents. A glare matching the intensity of his own, greeting him before you speak. 

"Probably not in the slightest." Your sentence is broken up by a bitter laugh, it isn’t until you continue when he begins to notice the amount of poison underlying your tone. "In fact I bet you were so not worried that you got work done." The sudden jab surprises him, the heat behind your narrowed glare growing. He’s stunned. 

"Excuse me?” Is all he manages, racking his brain to figure how he could have even given you such an impression. He understands that there have been occasions where he’s had to miss spending time with you to finish tasks and to go to meetings, but you’ve always assured him it’s fine. That you didn’t mind, staying up late, or missing reservations on his behalf. That bitter laugh of yours makes a return. 

“Diavolo sure is lucky that you’re so dedicated to him.” You snap, and your glare eases briefly as your eyes downcast, lips begin to quiver ever so slightly. His heart contorts at the sadness, reaching forward to place a hand atop of yours. Your attention turns away from him, but to the gesture, that once made your heart flutter. 

“You’re intoxicated and clearly aren’t thinking properly. Lets talk about this tomorrow.” He tries gently. 

“Why is it that when you look at me, I know you’re thinking of someone else?” But when he gets your question as a quiet reply, he’s taken aback. 

“That isn’t the case.” And as if he threw a match into a pile of gasoline, your attention snaps back to his face with a glare. Recoiling your hand from his touch, as if he himself had burned you. 

“Isn’t it? You’re always working or going to another meeting, or are being held back for him.” You don’t even realise you’re shouting, or shaking with every grievance escaping you, and in silence he watches. “Don’t you love me? Am I not good enough?” He calls your name quietly, but he’s ignored. “How many dates have you missed, how many hours have you given to him that you robbed from me? From us.” Panic settles in as it dawns on with every word, you’re growing further and further out of his reach. 

“My time is always yours and I’m sorry if you don’t feel it to be that way.” His apology is laced with an unspoken plea. Don’t leave he wants to say, but your rage continues on. 

“So you can’t even admit it? You can’t even accept what I’m saying might be true so you deflect it onto me.” He wasn’t trying to do that, he attempts to explain himself, you don’t want to listen. “I’m so stupid. Of course you’re not going to listen. And I know you’re not going to change either.” He can change, he pleas, he will for you and he thinks as your rage subsides that maybe he’s gotten through to you. Only to see the sorrow in your gaze, as you quietly begin to speak, “I have given you everything including myself, if that isn’t enough then...” the silence weighs on him, on his heart and as you finish your thoughts, “nothing will be.” It crushes him. 

It’s agonizing. The pain in his chest, the ways his lungs heave as words trap themselves in his throat, as it settles in you’re right. And that as you turn on your heel, to shakily walk back to your room, he has no right to follow after you. 

#lucifer suffering blog #one day he will be happy #but not today lol #angst #lucifer #om lucifer #lucifer om #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader #om lucifer x reader #obey me #obey me x reader #om! #om x reader #obey me swd #obey me one master to rule them all #cherry's fruit infused prompt list #my writing tag

[nejiverse]

just red your Aki fics with the family and omg.

but then my head goes to thinking about Y/n finding out about Aki’s death.

and it just breaks my heart as like an AU.

if possible can you write that but not cannon to what you’ve written just as an alternate thing

ONE MORE TIME

Aki Hayakawa

writing this kinda pinched my heart a little 🥲

cw: hyperventilation, angst

919 words

Y/n paced around the office nervously. Biting down on her nails wouldn’t be enough to contain her anxiousness at the current moment.

This feeling was of course normal and natural. It was part of the system that evolved to keep people safe and well. It was an alarm system of sorts, one you should heed.

One you should always heed.

Unfortunately this time, she chose to ignore it because of her lover’s persistence and eagerness.

News was received that there was more information on the gun devil’s whereabouts and Aki was so quick to accept the mission.

Y/n knew the reasons as to why he wanted to pursue the Gun devil but she also worried for his safety.

She tried, she really did.

She tried to talk him out of it because of the feeling that was welling deep inside her chest, a feeling of uneasiness.

He managed to calm her down by promising to come back alive and well.

“I’ll never forgive him if he breaks his promise”, she said with bated breath.

“All that worrying won’t do you any good Y/n. Try to calm down”, Himeno tapped her shoulder with her cigarette, offering it to her but she shrugged her off.

She never smoked, she didn’t like when Aki did it either, but old habits die hard as they say.

These next few hours of her life would either pass as a blip or they would be the final trauma that breaks her. Soon enough, she would find it to be the latter.

The next sound that was heard was the hinges of the door squeaking open, alerting the two women that someone was stepping in.

It was a man Y/n remembered to have accompanied Aki on his mission.

She looked up to him with hopeful eyes, she figured no words had to be said from her. Her pupils and facial expressions clearly displayed what she wanted to know.

“The mission was a success..”, he started.

Y/n let out a sigh from deep down in her chest, a small smile making way to her lips. That meant Aki was alive and breathing, or so she concluded.

“I’m glad to hear that”, she gently clasped her hands together against her chest. “Where’s Aki right now?”, she asked happily.

When she saw the man’s features dulling, her smiled faded as fast as her hands unclasped. She frantically looked from the man to Himeno in disbelief.

“H-he’s fine, right?”.

No response.

But the silence spoke louder than any words could. In fact, the silence laughed at her. It mocked her as if to brag of its undeserving feat.

Terror overtook her face and sadness clouded her heart.

“Don’t tell me…”, her voice was barely audible. “I l-lost him?”.

She lost him.

“I’m sorry”, the man clenched his fists in a useless attempt to stop tears from threatening his eyes. He quickly exited the room so he wouldn’t have to hear her weeps. It was futile though.

Y/n found that she couldn't draw in her usual lung-full, as if concrete had been poured into her airways. She clutched her shirt tightly into her fist.

The panic drove her to start gasping, breathing as if the oxygen had been sucked from the air around her. Y/n doubled over and fell to her knees, one weak hand on the ground to support her weight.

Already her thoughts were becoming jumbled, like she was in a nightmare rather than the simplistic office.

Himeno quickly rushed to her side and embraced her tightly.

“Let it all out. You can cry, it’s okay”, Himeno rubbed her back and squeezed her eyes shut as to ensure no tears slip down her cheeks.

Y/n knew how things would go from here. They would all act as if it were a noble sacrifice for their sake, that by loving his memory, the mourning would become a wholesome and wonderful thing. But the truth was they were cowards, every last one of them in this dammed association.

“So…cruel”, she murmured through her tears. It was cruel that none of them were willing to see the difference between honourable self sacrifice and murder. She hoped guilt will one day destroy them from the inside out.

Y/n let out a scream as tears came out of her eyes in pools and her nails dug into Himeno’s arm.

Aki didn’t deserve an early death.

“Please Himeno..”, she wailed, almost like a child as she averted her half-lidded and heavily red eyes to the woman who was embracing her. “Bring him b-back, Aki”, she stuttered through her quick huffs, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Himeno pursed her lips. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t think there were any words to console her at this moment in time. She could only offer her presence.

All she ever prayed for was to be in his arms forever. His love was everything to her. He made her feel so good about herself, he was kind to her, so very kind.

She would do absolutely anything to just hold him one more time.

But that was a wish that could only be granted in her dreams,

For these hours were only the start of the longest and darkest night there ever was.

Masterlist :)

a/n: I love writing angst, also no manga spoilers please

#chainsaw man #aki headcanons #aki angst #chainsaw man angst #csm angst #csm scenarios #csm headcanons #csm aki #csm imagine #csm #chainsaw man imagine #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man x y/n #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #csm x you #makima #kishibe #denji #power #aki hayakawa x female reader #aki x you #aki x y/n #aki hayakawa fluff #aki hayakawa x reader #aki #aki hayakawa #aki x reader #aki fluff #aki chainsaw man

[armins-used-qtip]

Connie finds your ✨secret✨ box

It was no secret that Connie found you alluring. Even from the first time you met him, he let his eyes linger for longer than acceptable. Whenever you’re with him you can feel his burning stare, especially on your body. He’s a nice guy, although you don’t know him very well since he’s your boyfriend’s friend not yours. Despite his attraction to you he would never act on it, he’s a good friend after all.

You and your boyfriend, Eren, had a very closed off and intimate sex life. But he was a freak so you often found yourself doing... questionable things.

Being the hoarder you are, you had a small, white shoebox tucked under your bed. It was filled with mementos from your relationship. Ticket stubs, receipts, bracelet boxes, anything really.

Connie didn't know how he found himself in your room searching through your belongings like a pervert.

Earlier Connie had gotten a call from Eren

"Yo, Y/N sleeping at mine again. Could you do me a favour and go get her backpack from her dorm"

"Why do I have to get it. Why can't you or her?"

"She's in a lecture right now and I have to meet Armin in about.... 10 minutes. Please bro just this once??"

"....fine"

"Cheers Conn, the keys under her rug."

There he was. Searching through your stuff, with no aim in mind. The backpack had already been found, so he should've left. But for some reason he felt like he'd be missing an opportunity if he left so quickly.

He slumped down against your bedframe, when he felt something poke him in the back. "Hmm... 'me and ren' what's this?"

He grabbed the white shoebox that was poking him. It was what he expected, just some cute memories and shit. Just as he was about to put the box back something glossy caught his eye. He wiggled his fingers further in the box to retrieve it. Nothing could've prepared him for what he saw. It was a small Polaroid. He couldn't tear his eyes from it, he was mortified but totally mesmerised.

You were positioned ass up on the very bed Connie was leaning on, completely naked. You had a gag in your mouth and your arms were tied. There was a pair of hands roughly  spreading you apart, Erens obviously.

Connie was so taken aback by this photo. He had completely stilled, too scared to even move a muscle. He never took you for someone to be into that sort of thing. The more he thought about it, the hotter he felt his body get.

This is wrong. I shouldn't be looking at this Connie consciousness began knawing at him. Yet he just couldn't put it down. His eyes focused on your pussy, it was being manhandled by Eren. He felt terrible but a small part of him wished he was the one behind the camera, not Eren. A dry gulp was all he could form as he felt his pants get tighter.

"Shit" A wave of realisation hit him and he put the Polaroid down. This was bad and he knew it. He stood up and looked around your room. "Just get the bag and leave" he muttered to himself. First he had to put that Polaroid back in its place. He kneeled down and took the Polaroid, facing it the other way, and put it back in the box. He then noticed there were more. He felt guilty but not guilty enough to stop. He grabbed the stack and looked through them. Each one was somehow better than the last. His favourite was the one where you were on the bathroom floor, with your fingers deep in yourself. Eren was nowhere to be seen, unlike the other ones that were all clearly taken by him. This one was a selfie, maybe you had taken it for Eren?

He did something dumb. He slipped it into his back pocket and put the rest away, tucking the box back under your bed. He was thinking with his very erect dick rather than his mind. He could barely walk because he was so painfully hard. All he wanted in that moment was your pretty lips wrapped around him. A loud groan left him at the thought of you on your knees for him. His mind was so fuzzy from the pure arousal, he had to sort his hard-on out.

He stumbled into your washroom. He was looking for them. The pink frilly underwear he caught a glimpse of yesterday when you were at Erens. A small part of him hoped he didn't find them because he had no idea what he was about to do to them, all he knew was that he needed them. The way this man was behaving anyone would think he was inebriated, but no the only thing he was drunk off was the thought of your body underneath his. He dug through your clothes basket. He found them. It wasn't purposeful, but a small laugh erupted from him. Was he this pathetic? Was he really about to wank off to his best friend's girlfriend?

He looked at the thong style underwear in his hand. There was a dark patch where your pussy would have been. The sight of this had him panting heavily. All his guilt was washed away the second he brought them up to his nose, taking in the smell of you. Any common sense he had was now gone and replaced with pure, primitive lust. He swore it was impossible to become harder than he was, yet he found himself growing evermore. It was painful, he was so, so hard. He felt like a helpless puppy in heat. He reached his hands into his sweats and pulled out his rock solid dick. There was precum dribbling down the side. With the pink panties in his nose he began pumping his hand up and down his cock. He hissed at the feeling, he felt more sensitive down there than usual. He brought the underwear away from his nose and uncrumpled it. His stare was directed at the dark patch, even the sight of it nearly made him cum. He brought it to his mouth and began to lick the spot. The grip he had on his dick got tighter and he began pumping faster. Quiet and broken whimpers left his mouth, muffled by the fabric of your panties. He savoured the salty taste as if it was a 5 star meal. The pressure in his stomach was building up and he threw his head back in response. This time he held the underwear's dark spot to his swollen tip. The panties stuck to him as he jerked off into them. This was nearly enough for him to come undone, his movements were becoming sloppier and lost their rhythm. He whimpered and moaned your name as the coil in his stomach snapped. The deepest and guttural moans left him as he emptied himself onto your pink panties. Hot cum spilled into his hands as he tried to control his breathing.

"Shit" he panicked at the sight of your ruined panties. Still in a state of stupidity he shoved the dirtied underwear in his coat pocket.

His mind was racing on his way to Erens dorm. How would he look you in the eyes? What if you noticed your pants and your Polaroid were gone? But it was too late to return them now.

Knock knock

"Eren bro are you in? I've got your girls bag" Connie was surprised to see you open the door.

"I'm not 'Erens girl' I have a name" you said bitterly and took the bag from his hands.

Just as you were about to shut the door you spoke out

"Oh and uh... I have a camera in my dorm room"

You watched in amusement as Connie's soul left his body. His pathetic stammers only made you laugh.

" don't worry I won't tell Eren, but I want my Polaroid back" you said putting your hand out. He reluctantly reached into his back pocket and put the Polaroid in your hand.

"Thanks Connie" you offered a sweet smile before you shut the door in his face. How cute.

Ok that's the end. I've never written smut before so um if it's bad deal with it?

#attack on titan #pantylover #aot connie #connie springer #18+ content #aot smut #smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #connie x reader #aot x reader #yummy yum yum #i love them