#HE WAS INSANE FOR SKINS SERIOUSLY I ACTUALLY CRIED

[miss-beanie]

🚬﹔I never asked to be like this . #skins

— like or reblog if you save!!

[rikupid]

[09:41] 💭 riding haechan (with some edging)

warnings: haechan x afab!reader, riding, unprotected sex, edging, breeding, light overstimulation, use of pet names (baby), MDNI

a/n: breaking my silence with a haechan hard hour.. i have no idea what inspired this but i hope u enjoy this.. it’s literally just filth

haechan can’t help the whimpers that fall from his mouth—not when you’re riding him so well and squeezing his cock with every slow, tortuous drag of your hips.

you’ve been at it for what feels like hours now, teasing your boyfriend until you’re sure he’s about to lose his mind. he’s close, has been since you straddled his hips and sank your tight heat down around his aching cock, and haechan’s thoughts are jumbled from how long he’s been teetering on the edge.

all he can think about is you on top of him, whispering dirty praises in his ear, all while dragging your pussy up and down his length. he doesn’t know what he did to deserve someone as beautiful as you on top of him. he can’t look away from you, eyes roaming every inch of your body as you bounce on his cock.

he thinks that if anyone were to be edging him to the brink of insanity, at least it’s you.

haechan knows you’re being mean without reason, pushing him around a little, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it. he likes when you get him so close to the edge, his cock twitching and stomach tightening as he gets closer and closer, only to tear that release away from him completely.

as much as he whines and tries to protest, he loves every second of it. he’d never admit it to your face.

he places his hands on your hips, trying to guide you to a pace that’s faster and less torturous for his sensitive cock. he thinks that if he doesn’t get to cum inside you within the next few minutes, he might actually start crying. the tears that start to form in his eye are a dead giveaway.

you follow his lead, deciding to spare him just a little, and pick up the pace. he feels so good inside you, cock deep and hitting all the right spots. “good, s’good, baby,” you moan out, hands scrambling to find purchase on his chest.

you ignore the burn in your thighs from how long you’ve been riding him. you’re too close to stop now, and haechan’s nearly right where you want him.

“s-shit,” haechan whimpers, head falling back against the pillows. his hands squeeze your hips tightly, groping at the skin as he tries to fight off the urge to cum. the feeling of your tight pussy around him is becoming too much, and haechan seriously thinks he can’t last any longer. you’re sucking him in, working your hips up and down his cock as if you’re begging him to let go—begging him to stuff you full of his cum.

but he can’t, not when he knows that you’re going to stop. this is the game that you’re playing and without fail, haechan seems to lose every time. you get him so close to the edge, dangerously so, then deny him before he can even think about letting go.

his whines are loud, eyes brimming with tears as he tries so hard not to cum.

“please,” haechan tries, eyes squeezing shut. “m’gonna cum, please,” he begs, not sure if he’s asking for permission to cum or for you to stop before he loses control and spills inside your warm cunt.

you smile, stilling your hips to give him a break. you’re mean, but you’d never ignore your pretty boy when he cries so beautifully from underneath you.

“yeah?” you ask, coming up to run a gentle hand through his hair that’s sweaty and wet, sticking to his forehead from how hot the room is. “you think you deserve to cum now?”

haechan opens his eyes to look at you, nodding his head in desperation. his cock throbs inside you. “let me, please. wanna cum inside you so bad,” he begs again, hands coming up to roam along your waist and the curve of your back.

you let out a pleasant sigh at the touch, hips starting to grind in slow, gentle circles on his cock. you nod your head, finally deciding to play nice. “fuck me, hyuckie. fuck me ‘n i’ll let you cum, promise,” you whisper, leaning down to mouth at his neck.

haechan moans at the feeling, hips starting to buck. he’s been waiting so long for this—waiting for you to give him the permission to cum and fuck you like he needs. he wraps his arms around you and plants his feet on the bed, thrusting his hips up into your cunt.

he’s too desperate to care about rhythm, brain muddled with nothing but the thought to fuck, claim, and have you full of his cum. you’re squeezing so tightly around him, pussy wet and squelching with every thrust of his cock.

“hyuck!” you cry out, suddenly overwhelmed with how fast and deep he’s fucking into you. it’s so good and so much at the same time, sending you hurdling over the edge without warning.

“m’so close,” haechan groans into the air, hips still pounding into you as he chases his release. “gonna fuck you full, b-baby. gonna stuff you with my cum, c’mon, let me please,” he babbles without end, “wanna make you mine.”

“cum, hyuck—fuck,” you whine from the oversensitivity, hole fluttering around his cock as he fucks you past your orgasm. it’s overwhelming, but you need him to cum. “cum in me, baby,” you plead, words breaking off with a moan.

it takes one, two, three more thrusts before haechan’s spilling into you with a loud moan, cock twitching as his cum paints your walls. tears are rolling down his face as he finally gets to let go, arms pulling you down closer to his body. your pussy clenches hard around him at the warm feeling of his cum inside you.

you smash your lips against his, kissing him with need. he moans into the kiss before breaking away to pant against your mouth, the both of you exhausted from whatever just went down.

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” haechan asks between pants, eyes finding yours. there’s a fondness in his eyes that makes your heart swell.

you smile, placing a light and chaste kiss on his lips. “i know.”

a/n: i don’t know what came over me but i need haechan bad guys pleasepleaseplease someone listen to me PLEASSEEEE!!! also let’s talk abt how this was supposed to be my birthday hard hour present…. mind u my birthday was last friday….. anyways everyone say happy late birthday winnie

[amourtoken]

https://x.com/heliishporn/status/1877396059422380399?s=46

This.. this screams Nico

anything insanely intimate immediately makes me think of Luke or Nico cause they're the types to be like "I cannot fucking cum unless you kiss me :(((" yk?

the way he pulls away from the kiss just to bury his face against your shoulder and rock his hips harder into yours???? That's so fucking Nico I'm SICK. He picks up the pace when you wrap your arms around him and he can't even tell what he's chasing anymore at this point. The feel of your hands against his skin? The pretty noises and pitchy cries of his name escaping your lips? The way you clench around his cock when he groans praises against your neck to remind you just how good you're being for him? Maybe.

He could die happy like this with your legs hooked around his waist, your nails etching patterns between his shoulder blades and sinking in like little daggers when he thrusts a little too harsh. This might be heaven actually. You're so fucking warm and the wet sounds of his hips meeting yours have him really losing his composure, fuck.

I could fs see this being the night you told Nico he could finally knock you up and he took that SERIOUSLY.

[sweetimpurity]

cw: toxic dynamic

Miguel’s need to control carries on into every aspect of your life with him. In the years you’ve been together, that’s the main thing you’ve had to come to terms with. And it doesn’t seem like something he’s willing to change. Especially not when it applies to sex.

He’ll have you any way he wants, because he knows how to make you feel good. If only you’ll stop squirming and let him do it. He’ll tell you to shut up, stick his fingers in your mouth and make you suck on them to keep you quiet. Clasp his hand over your mouth when you’re being too loud. Especially if it’s in his office where anyone walking by the door might overhear.

When you come home after a longer day and he’s been waiting for you. Dragging you to the couch once you step in the door and pounding you into the cushions. First it’s real sweet, kisses, caresses, sucking on your tits, kissing your neck, marking your skin so everyone knows. Everyone knows.

Starting in missionary and stretching your pussy out, working you out; almost making you sore within the first round. Making you cum no problem, he doesn’t even need to try. Then you’re on your stomach, his cock drilling into you from behind, eyes rolling back and his thick buff arm wrapped around the front of your neck. Your flushed face cradled in the crook of his beefy arm. Keeping you in the position he wants. Always. Hand finding its way to your throat, his hips slapping into your ass with every push, taking your whines and cries to know he’s doing a good job. That he’s pulling you apart one orgasm at a time.

“One more, baby… that’s all, one more…” He doesn’t beg. He tells you that’s how it’s gonna be. Flipping you back over, your head on the sofa armrest and hands grabbing at him. Babbling on about how it’s too much and you can’t take anymore. He hasn’t even let himself cum yet and you’re already overstimulated to the brink of insanity.

“Lie still babe… let me do it all… just be still and take it… pretty pussy wants it so bad, sweet girl.” He mumbles, his own mind half gone already. He pushes your hands down, big palms pressing your wrists down to the armrest and keeping them there, thick thighs pressing your legs apart, keeping you spread and open, pumping into you, rocking, your bodies as one, one moving machine, no matter how you might resist, how you may beg him for mercy.

But you’re cumming again… and then one more time after that. His fingers gently pressing on your pulse point and then brushing the hair off your neck. Focused, furrowed brow studying your expressions and taking this job as seriously as he does his actual 9 to 5.

“Please Mig… no more I can’t…” You pant, fucked out and overwhelmed. Your hands pinned over your head by him. Dark eyes scanning you always. Nodding firmly, knowing you’ve been good. Kissing your lips sinfully soft, his face dipping into your hot neck, letting himself finally focus on the pocket of pleasure in his own stomach. Spurting soon after, fucking his essence into you, hissing and groaning, semen staining the upholstery.

“Such a good girl… did so good baby…” He whispers once it’s all over, kissing your cheeks and your lips, helping you wash up and serving you the dinner he made while waiting for his girl to come home.

[lavendergalactic]

A callout post on Locket. (aka @llocket)

(JOKE & NON-SERIOUS happy april fools)

1. he spread misinformation

i'll be talking about this post where they "defend" nahida being brown

locket spread misinformation on that post because famous non-muslim non-indian tiktok user firestorm703934 said she's based off the moon (not saraswati who has the godly glow of the moon, just the moon itself because that makes so much sense for the god of dendro and wisdom to be based off the moon itself) on a post where an artist drew nahida with melanin

as you see in this comment, they're totally right about their point, the moon ISN'T tan. therefore nahida shouldn't be "tan" either, it's perfect logic

2. sent me cryptic death threats

locket would sometimes send me messages that i don't understand, so i put them through in google translate and you will never believe what they said

this was really hurtful. i cried for days on end after google translating this.

3. cultural appropriation

locket speaks urdu, but they have multiple parts with names of different languages

as you can see here kaveh is a PERSIAN name. not URDU.

and here, kaeya is an INDIAN name. not URDU.

also, one of his parts used a language thats NATIVE TO INDIA (NOT URDU.) symbol as an aesthetic in their intro.

(urdu is a mix of arabic, turkish and persian just so you know, and they are half indian half pakistani, they can use all of these)

4. he was previously RCTA

from 2015~2022 locket claimed to be a different race, he claimed to be canadian and white, not half pakistani and half indian.

proof:

this is from their old carrd from 3 years ago claiming that they're white

here they are seen PHOTOSHOPPING THEIR SKIN to be another race, like wow, why would you do this to yourself? that's so fucking insane

this is their REAL HAND in comparison:

THIS IS SICK. ^

they've also made their roblox avatar white back in 2021 to trick me into thinking they're white:

his username is "J44KU", as you can see it's WHITE

5. copying my work

multiple times locket has purposfully copied my work. taking too heavy inspiration and then claiming it as their OWN.

here you see locket clearly copying my akira and ryo graphics i've made in december last year.

and here you see the CLEAREST COPY IN EXISTENCE. they copied everything about my part noir's rentry. it's SICK

TAGS: please spread the word.

@yaoitistic @hamusie @pwupsicle @venshuko @necroangelz @otoripink @mukurosgf @magnoliawriter @cactiflowering @triokoto

(PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY BY THE WAY, LOCKET WAS IN ON IT TOO AND GIVING ME IDEAS AND IMAGES!! please don't actually try cancel my boyfriend for this, this is all for shits and giggles, happy april fools!)

[tomkaulitzssgirl]

Hii!! I have an angsty Tom Kaulitz x reader request if you’re up for it 🖤

The reader is a total baddie — super confident, outspoken, the kind of girl who never lets her guard down. She’s part of the band (maybe guitarist or bassist?) and has known Tom for years. They’ve always had this slow-burn, will-they-won’t-they kind of tension — tons of flirting, rivalry, stolen glances, but neither of them ever actually says how they feel.

One night, after a show, things finally snap — maybe they fight about something stupid, or one of them sees the other with someone else. The reader ends up finally confessing something real (like “I’ve been in love with you for years and you treat it like a joke”) and it absolutely breaks Tom.

Lots of raw emotion, bottled-up feelings finally exploding, maybe some physical distance (like one of them trying to leave), but ultimately I’d love a slightly soft ending — not necessarily all fixed, but like… hope. NO WAIT HAPPY ENDING😭

Thank you sm!! I’m obsessed with your writing!!

BETWEEN THE LINES | TOM KAULITZ

thank u sm!!!🫶🏻

you were the bassist of the band — fierce, electric, and unapologetically loud in your confidence. on stage, you owned the spotlight like it owed you something. offstage, you walked like the world tilted slightly in your direction. people noticed. you didn’t care.

except, maybe, for one person.

tom kaulitz.

tom, the guitarist with charm written into the way he tuned his strings. he’d been in your life for years — ever since you joined the band on a whim and blew everyone away during your first audition. you two had been orbiting each other since that moment: endless banter, playful insults, eye-rolls, shared cigarettes on the tour bus at 3am. to everyone else, it was textbook “will-they-won’t-they.” but you and tom both denied it. always.

he teased you like it was a sport — calling you trouble, mocking the way you tuned by ear, flicking guitar picks at your head during practice. you gave it right back. you were ruthless. no one else could get under his skin the way you could. no one else dared.

but underneath the teasing, there were moments. quiet ones.

like the night in munich, when the show got canceled due to rain, and you two sat on the roof of the hotel. you didn’t speak for hours, just shared a blanket and passed his headphones back and forth. at one point, you leaned your head on his shoulder. he didn’t move. you never talked about it afterward.

or the time you broke down after a call with your mom, and he found you curled up in the back of the bus. he didn’t ask questions. he just sat beside you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hand playing with the hem of your hoodie. you cried until you couldn’t anymore. he never told anyone.

you knew him in ways most didn’t. he hated small talk but feared of opening up, he had also a quiet fear of not being taken seriously and deep down where he didn’t show it, there was a sweet sweet guy that didn’t let people in easily. he knew you, too — knew your anxiety masked as confidence, how you hated being at the centre of attention but acted like you loved it, how you didn’t trust people. except for him.

the problem was: you’d fallen for him.

hard.

and it sucked, because every time he flirted with someone else — some groupie, some pretty girl from a club — he looked at you after. like he wanted to see if you’d react. and you never did. too prideful, too scared of showing your emotions, too scared of rejection.

until you couldn’t not.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

that night was in prague. the crowd had been insane, the adrenaline high, the kind of show where your body hummed with leftover energy.

you loved performing, loved seeing people scream your songs and their happy faces. it was everything.

and of course, you love seeing tom focused on moving his fingers on the guitar, wishing it was you instead.

you’d gone outside for air, needing to breathe before the afterparty. you talked a bit with the others that were there before going back inside the backstage to start changing. that’s when you saw him.

tom. holding hands with some girl. blonde, tall, glitter all over her collarbones. the total opposite of you. he was laughing at something she said, doing that smirk that usually made your stomach do somersaults.

you froze.

something in your chest twisted. you’d seen him flirt a million times before, so why did this one feel like a knife?

maybe because she had her hand in his and he wasn’t pulling away.

maybe because it didn’t look like the usual flirting he did, it looked like something more. he never took them with him backstage, where people could see them.

you turned around, fast, walking back inside before you could spiral. but your boots clunked against the floor louder than you wanted. loud enough that he looked up.

he saw you.

your face.

your expression. and he dropped her hand.

“wait—” he called out, already pushing past the girl, ignoring her protests. she kept yelling his name. but he was too busy chasing over you.

“no! don’t.” you snapped, not slowing down.

“hey. hey. y/n—come on—” his fingers wrapped around your wrist as you reached the hallway backstage.

you yanked it away like it burned. “what?”

he searched your face for answers in confusion. “what’s wrong with you?”

you laughed bitterly. “nothing. go back to your fan.”

he frowned. “are you seriously mad about that?”

you crossed your arms, leaning against the wall. “no. i’m just tired of this bullshit.”

“what bullshit?” he threw his hands in the air, he sounded genuinely confused. that just made it worse.

“this.” you gestured between the two of you. “whatever the hell we’ve been doing for years now.”

tom’s eyes narrowed. “what are you talking about?”

you could feel it bubbling now, the heat rising in your chest. did he seriously not understand? did he seriously think about everything between you two as nothing? “you flirt with me like it’s breathing, tom. you open up to me, you hold me like i matter, you basically treat me like your girlfriend and then you go and touch someone else like it’s nothing.”

his voice rose. “it wasn’t like that—”

“it’s always like that!” you shouted. “and i pretend it doesn’t hurt because i don’t want to look stupid, but i am. i’m so stupid because i’ve been in love with you for years and you treat it like a fucking joke.”

silence.

heavy, choking silence.

you felt tears streaming down your face.

his mouth parted slightly. you saw it — the way his face fell. like your words had hit him like a truck. he took a step toward you, almost hesitant. “you… what?”

“i love you, you idiot.” you whispered, and this time it cracked. your voice. your mask. everything.

you tried to walk past him but again, he didn’t let you. he stepped in front of you, blocking the exit, his eyes wild and desperate.

“wait—wait—don’t leave. please.”

you didn’t say anything. your arms were wrapped around yourself now, like a shield.

tom ran a hand through his hair, stepping back like he needed to breathe. “you think it’s been a joke to me? you think i’ve just been… playing with you?”

you looked at him, biting the inside of your cheek. “haven’t you?”

he shook his head, stepping closer. “god, no. y/n—every time i flirted with someone else, i was just… scared. scared you’d never feel the same. scared you’d laugh in my face if i told you how i felt.”

you frowned. “you? scared?”

he gave a short laugh. “i’m not bulletproof, you know.”

he cupped your face then, gently, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to. you didn’t stop him.

“i’ve been in love with you for years,” he whispered, “i just didn’t know if i was allowed to say it.”

something inside you broke open. but this time, it wasn’t pain. it was relief.

“i thought i was the only one.” you said, voice barely there, your hands above his.

“you never were.”

and then he kissed you.

soft, like a promise. fierce, like the years of tension finally melting away. you clutched his jacket like it was the only thing anchoring you. he held your waist like he’d never let go.

when you pulled apart, breathless, forehead resting against his, he smiled.

“so… i guess you’re really my girlfriend now.”

you laughed — actually laughed — and for the first time, it didn’t feel like a game.

“yeah,” you said, “i am. and you’re my boyfriend .”

it was weird to say. weird but amazing.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

the next morning, the band noticed. the stolen glances weren’t so stolen anymore. the teasing was still there — of course it was — but now it came with fingers laced together, with smirks shared across hotel lobbies, with lyrics that suddenly felt more honest.

you were still that confident girl everyone knew.

he was still cocky as hell.

but now, you had each other, and that made all the difference.

[1dvision]

02 || New Messages

The nerves hadn't white settled in yet. Even after the official announcement, the interviews, the press photos: none of it felt fully real.

Rylee was actually representing Ireland at Eurovision and every time she thought about it, a low hum of disbelief pulsed beneath her skin like a second heartbeat.

She was still in her sweats, currently at home, hair tied up, half watching old Eurovision performances from YouTube when her phone buzzed.

Then it buzzed again.

@johannesjjpietsch

Hey hey, officially welcome to the madness 😅

Congrats on getting selected! 🇮🇪🔥

Rylee blinked at the message, JJ, Austrias representative. The one with perfect stage presence. He was already a fan favourite with a fan base that could probably summon lightning.

She watched his performance the night they announced him, smooth voice, ridiculous range and now here he was dming her.

She opened the messages, hovered for a second and then replied

@ryleebyrne

Thanks!! Still kind of processing 😅

Congrats to you too, your vocals in your song?? Insane!!

The reply came fast

@johannesjjpietsch

Ahh you saw that? Appreciate it 💚 I'm still figuring out how to not sound like a goat in the high notes lol

The girl laughed under her breath, not the vibe she was expecting

@ryleebyrne

You sounded brilliant to me! Ive been a bit of a headless chicken since the announcement 😭

@johannesjjpietsch

Oh trust me. SAME. I nearly cried on the floor of my kitchen when I got home. My dog was so concerned

The Ginger laughed out loud, the image of that being too good

@johannesjjpietsch

But seriously, your voice is stunning. It's so warm? Like the musical version of a hug, if that makes sense?? I love it

Rylees heart fluttered, compliments felt nice, but this one felt real.

@ryleebyrne

Okay, stop, or I might actually cry lol. Thank you, and right back to you, your performance was like..it made me want to write a poem?? You've got magic JJ

There was a pause before his next reply

@johannesjjpietsch

Okay I'm keeping that message forever . That's going in the confidence vault. Also, I know that we're in the same semis, but honestly? I'm rooting for you too. There's room for both of us ❤️

Rylee felt her shoulders drop, anxiety lifting just a little bit. Eurovison was huge and terrifying and exciting but this...

...this made it feel human.

@ryleebyrne

Let's promise to cheer for each other no matter what, yeah? Win or lose, I've already got a friend in Austria 🫶🏻

Rylee then locked her phone and smiled to herself. Somewhere out there, another artist in another country had reached out to you across the chaos of Eurovison to say:

"Hey, I see you"

And that, maybe, meant more then anything

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

jjk chapter 253 spoilers under the cut !!

WAHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS CHAPTER…….. 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 one of my favs in a while i think IT WAS SO SO GOODDDDDD

FIRST OF ALL. GOJO CRUMBS 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺😞😞😞😞😞😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺😞😞😞😞😞😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺😞😞😞😞😞😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺😞😞😞😞😞 I CRIED I SOBBED I STARTED WRITHING ON THE FLOOR IN AGONY……. OUR SWEETIE………

HE’S SOOOO CUTE…. :(((( blindfolded gojo is my favorite ever he’s SO baby…….. i miss him sm it hurts i almost teared up seeing this panel that isn’t normal human behavior 😔😔 ”don’tcha think?” SIR PLS STOPPP…….. :((((( silly little goose…… i need to kiss him all over his pretty face just to hear him giggle (doctors surround me w syringes from all sides)

ok but gojo aside (come home baby the cats miss u 💔) MAKI????????? MY GODDESS?? i ADORE the fight between her and sukuna …. she looks completely feral i’m so enamored <333 wild raccoon coded <3333

and also…… the dynamic between these two……. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 maki being the only one since gojo who sukuna seems to be taking seriously/having genuine fun with???? (all the parallels between maki and gojo have been KILLING me i’m so glad akutami agrees w me that she’s his daughter ever <3) LIKE THAT’S SOOO SICK??? maki nation getting fed silly rn

”at its core, sorcery is all skin and flesh (…) that body of yours is all marrow and bone” BANGER ASS LINE EXCUSE ME??????????? AKUTAMI??????

but it’s also soooooo interesting isn’t it….. sukuna has always had a very specific view of sorcery and how it should be, and maki’s very existence completely goes against that ideal while simultaneously acting as a genuine threat to him… i think it’s so . insanely cool that he essentially views her as an alternative to sorcery?? and it forces him to revert back to the sorcery that he favours, just to prove that it’s superior (which is why he uses black flash for the first time!! at least that’s my read of it rn)…. IT’S JUST SO GOODDDD I’M EATING IT UP‼️‼️‼️

also sidenote kinda but but but . the sukuna theories…. abt him eating his twin……… if those are true then the sukuna/maki parallels are even MORE insane bc she had to sacrifice her own twin for the sake of survival/power but would undoubtedly choose mai over her newfound strenght every single time :(( while sukuna willingly chose strenght over companionship….. yeahhhh they make me ill

what else is there to say ……. kusakabe was there. PHDJDHDJF NO BUT WDYMMMM HE’S THE STRONGEST GRADE 1 SORCERER…… SINCE WHEN 😭😭😭 ??????

jokes aside i think it makes sense considering kusakabe just so happens to Know abt a bunch of stuff he shouldn’t know abt + somehow keeps surviving ???? but i still think it’s so funny how everyone is hyping him up while he’s like . I Am Not The Strongest 💀💀 he’s so funny actually…..

….. this is smth my fuckass brother said that unfortunately made a lot of sense + made me go completely insane but. maybe the reason kusakabe keeps trying to run away is bc he wants to stay alive for his sister….. :((( bc he needs to take care of her/doesn’t want to die and leave her alone the way her son did. sob. T_T that would be kind of a genius move on akutami’s part bc it changes his comedic moments to very heartwarming ones…. i’m actually rlly excited to see where this fight goes wahhhh

anyway back to gojo .

HE’S LITERALLY SOOOO BABY I CAN’T STAND HIM …. 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i don’t think akutami will ever truly understand how perfect this design is . like. there isn’t a single other character who perfectly manages to strike the balance between cute and handsome the way blindfolded gojo does . i’m sorry but it’s true. this is what the ideal male form looks like

[bratkook]

will you let me? (m) knj.

pairing. namjoon x reader genre. smut, pwp, established relationship word count. 1.2k warnings. unprotected sex, impreg kink, dirty talk, but also kinda cute note. based off a request sent in for thirst night! i hope u enjoy the insanely short filth🤠(also my first published joon fic can i get a hell yeah, also not edited sorry)

The air is stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Namjoon groans into your ear, mouthing kisses along your neck, tongue trailing down your jugular before he gently nips your skin. 

“God you’re so warm—fuck—so wet,” he mumbles on, rambling without a thought, too enveloped in the feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock. You felt every inch of him as he fucked you, the two of you finally agreeing to not use a condom for the first time. Namjoon swears he’ll never want to put one on again. 

The smack of your skin mixes in with each of your moans, your hands wrapping around him, digging your nails into his back as he rocked forward. “Ah, Namjoon,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he starts to suck on your neck. “Harder baby, please.”

“Yeah? Feel good?” he rasps, holding himself up to stare down at you. The pink tendrils of his hair stick to his forehead, damp with sweat, and the sparkle in his eyes shows his excitement. His soft lips spread out into a smile, dimples sinking into his cheeks as he does so. 

Another precise thrust has you nodding, wrapping your legs around his hips, pushing him closer. Namjoon could fuck you harder, could grip your hips so hard they bruised as he pistoned into you, but he liked this too much. He wants to savor the feeling of your velvety walls pulsing around him, wants to remember each of your trembled breaths when he hits your gspot, and wants to really enjoy the feeling of his hot cum filling you up. 

The thought alone makes him shut his eyes, groaning deep in the back of his throat as he pictures it, imagines seeing the globs of white dripping out of you, stuffing you so much your tummy would bulge. And suddenly he wants that, his eyes fall to your stomach, seeing the way it tenses in pleasure. Namjoon wants to claim you this way, make you his in a way you’ve never been before. 

“Fuck baby,” he pants, jaw slack as the thoughts flood his mind, hips snapping into yours with more determination. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

A teasing laugh spills from your mouth, one of your hands coming up to cradle his face, wondering where this was coming from after the filthy words he had been spewing earlier. “You think I look beautiful covered in sweat?”

Namjoon nods like it’s the most obvious response, surging his cock deeper into you, wanting to reach as far as he could. His balls slap against your thighs from the force, making your tits bounce around and he groans once more when he imagines how they’d look if you were pregnant. 

“Always look so beautiful,” he continues, cursing when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Look pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.”

His words make your skin warm up further, the thought of it sinking into your bones, already imagining how it would feel. And then he says something you never thought he would, “Wanna knock you up. Will you let me baby?”

It takes you a second to comprehend it, mind blanking as he moans above you, whimpering slightly when you fail to answer him, hips becoming more desperate. “Baby,” he whines again, feeling his release creeping up on him, needing to know if you’d be okay with him filling you up this way. 

The head of his cock rubs against your walls deliciously, snapping you out of your small daze as you nod frantically. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up Namjoon.”

Those were the golden words he needed to hear, burying his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle, the wooden headboard slamming into the wall so hard the neighbors would surely complain. He didn’t care though, not when you cried his name so beautifully as your orgasm crept up your spine. With his close position, each of his thrusts put pressure on your clit, sensitive and needy for attention, you mewl at the friction, rutting your hips up in time with his. 

“Namjoon, c-close—please don’t stop.” 

“Mm, don’t worry baby, I got you.” he softly reassures you, shivering when your hands tangle themselves in his hair, nails raking along his scalp. Another few thrusts is all it takes to sends you over the edge, shouting out his name as your ears rang from the pressure. Namjoon groans in your ear as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him for his orgasm, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised. 

“Joonie,” you keen, feet pushing him closer to you as you mewl in sensitivity. He gasps when you pulse around him, wanting him to spill his load inside of you, needing to see him fall apart. 

“Ah shit—“ he rasps, pushing himself up as he thrusts deeper into you, bulbous head of his cock just shy of reaching your cervix. “Are you gonna take my cum like a good girl? Let me fill you up until my pretty girl is messy, hm?”

You visibly shiver at his words, mouth dropped open in awe as you watch him, nodding along. “Please, please.”

“Fuck, take it baby.” It washes over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grows desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he feels his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his cum splash along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The feeling makes you hum, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrusts into you, making sure you take every last drop. 

He falls over you like deadweight, forgetting his giant self could crush you if he wanted. His cock is still nuzzled deep within you, slowly softening as it kept the cum from leaking out. “Hey, watch the baby!” you playfully call out, giggling when he snorts against your skin, large palm sliding up your sides in a soothing manner. 

“Don’t tease me.”

Your hands trail through his hair again, feeling the damp strands slowly detangle as you take your time. “You know, I could always get off birth control and we could actually try.”

He visibly perks up, brown eyes staring up at you with a certain glimmer to them that makes your heart flip in your chest. Picturing Namjoon with your child, strapped to his chest as he did things around the house, tucked into a stroller as he took him for a walk around the park, finally having a little human to fit into the baby shoes he was so obsessed with buying. You couldn’t imagine a better future. 

“Really?”

“Yeah you dork, let's have a baby. Knock me up.” Your brows wiggle in time with your words, and when he slips out of you as he attacks your neck with kisses, you let out a squeal in delight. 

“C’mon, we gotta practice then!” he announces in all seriousness, not caring that his cock was still soft and you had just been thoroughly stuffed by him seconds prior. But when he was determined there was no stopping him, so instead you coax him up, dragging him into the bathroom with the promise of shower sex and the freedom to be as messy as he wanted.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Buzzkill Barba"

God I really try and do one of those little itty bitty fluff nuggets of writing and they just keep on going for a page and a half.

Anyway, @storiesofsvu [and everyone else]. I hope you enjoy my "This Is The Part Where You Ask Me Out, And I Say Yes," square.

—---

You had been out drinking with the squad and were just getting ready to leave when who should show up but the ADA, Buzzkill Barba.

“Getting sloshed again are we, detectives?” He asked in a condescending tone. 

“Coming to kill our fun again, counselor?” You made a very obvious eye roll and gag motion. 

“Oh my god would you two just fuck already?!” Sonny cried out in a drunken laugh, causing the rest of the squad to giggle like school kids. You wanted to curl up and die right there in the booth. But instead, you smacked him across the back of the head. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You hissed at Sonny with white hot rage in your eyes, your pulse racing. You had told him IN CONFIDENCE how you had an insane crush on Rafael.

“W-W-Why would you say something like that, Carisi?” Rafael stammered, his voice wavering. Was he sweating? He seemed genuinely taken aback by the comment, no matter how hard he was trying to hide it. 

“I don’t know counselor, you tell us why you’re constantly ‘busting’ us when we’re out havin’ fun, lookin’ at Y/N here like she’s a snack pack,” Sonny pressed Rafael with another dunken laugh.

“You are a bunch of fucking children, you know that?” Rafael rolled his eyes before angrily storming off. 

Your eyes darted between where he had stormed off to and the group, who were all now staring at you expectantly. 

“....What?” You asked, genuinely confused. 

“I totally just gave you an in, Y/L/N. What else do I gotta do, go stick my tongue in his mouth for you too?” Sonny gave you a wink, now suspiciously sober. 

“Oh my god,” the realization washed over you as your skin became pale. “You set me up!” 

“Yeah, I knocked ‘em down a peg, now go lick his wounds. And other things,” Sonny gave you a suggestive nudge. 

“Jesus Sonny,” You rolled your eyes and shoved him one last time before running the same route Rafael had taken. 

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

You found him standing outside Forlini’s on his phone and angrily muttering to himself. When he noticed you, he immediately stopped and looked directly at the ground. He looked as if he was debating whether to stay and wait for his Uber or run away and just call another one down the block. Luckily you caught up to him before he chose the latter. 

“Hey, counselor,” You waddled over to him in your heels on the curb. 

The wind in the city was unusually high, your hair and dress were flapping in the wind. You tried your best to keep your dress from flying over your head but in doing so, tripped on your heels into Rafael’s arms. 

“Jesus Y/N how drunk are you?” he asked in a haughty tone as he adjusted to you literally falling on top of him.

“It’s the wind, okay?!” You gestured around you angrily. 

“Sure it is,” he baited you.

“What do you want, a breathalyzer?” you exhaled loudly as you pushed yourself out of his arms.

“The question is what do you want, Miss Y/L/N?” he crossed his arms in suspicion.

“You didn’t answer Sonny’s question,” you said simply.

“Excuse me?” He half laughed in disbelief. “Did you– did you seriously come out here to ask me if I have a crush on you?” 

“Yes,” you answered in a very serious tone, causing him to stop laughing. Well, he certainly didn’t expect that. Although he wasn’t sure why; you weren’t exactly known for your tact. 

“You’re drunk,” He shook his head while looking away in a nervous laugh.

“Actually I’m not,” You crossed your arms. “I’ve got an early class tomorrow, I barely drank a glass of wine,”

“A class?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re still in school?” 

He had thought you may be a tad young to be on the SVU squad, but not that young. 

“Just…a few classes at NYU,” You twirled your hair nervously, looking everywhere but his eyes.

“What classes? What kind of degree?” He pressed you.

“Why the twenty questions all of a sudden?!” You threw your hands up defensively.

“...You’re right,” he suddenly realized he was acting way too interested in you and your life. He had to play aloof. He had done so well so far, keeping you an arm’s length. 

“.... Law school,” you admitted after a few moments of awkward silence.

“Law school?” He blinked a few times to process what he heard.

“YES, law school, okay?!” You exclaimed. 

“You’re going to Law School?” He repeated the question. “For what, a man?”

“Shut up!” You hit him lightly. “Wait– was that a Legally Blonde reference?” 

“...No,” his face turned red in the moonlight. 

“Oh my god you totally love Legally Blonde!” you squealed.

“I think it’s a comical interpretation of the judicial world, that’s all,” he retorted.

“Mmmmkay,” you rolled your eyes with a huge taunting smile.

“So, it’s not for a man then?” He changed the subject.

“Mmmm….” Now you were the one to stare a hole into the ground. “Not exactly,” 

“Seriously?” Rafael laughed snidely once more. “Miss Y/L/N you cannot just seduce a law student by–” 

Suddenly he stopped his satirical speech when he noticed that you still weren’t looking up at him. It took him about two seconds to realize what you were saying. 

“Miss…Miss Y/L/N,” He cleared his throat, unsure of how to handle this situation. “You– you, you’re not doing this for me, are you?” 

“What?!” Your head now shot up; the tears you had let fall sucked immediately back into their sockets. “No! For fuck’s sake Barba I’m not a psycho!” 

“Well, I don’t know! You stopped talking, you’ve got that look on your face–”

“I’m going because of you, not FOR you!”  you interrupted him before he started thinking you were going Fatal Attraction on him.

“....I don’t follow,” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Look, being a detective is great,” you sighed, taking off your heels. The cool cement on your feet felt marvelous to your throbbing soles. 

“That sidewalk is probably filthy–” Rafael tried to interject but you weren’t listening. 

“But, I don’t know I’m just…bored,” You shrugged, now pacing around. 

“Bored?” Rafael’s eyebrows raised skeptically.

“I mean sure we bring the bad guys in but you–” you stopped pacing and faced him. “You bring them to justice. You really get in there, sticking it to them!” You made a fist and struck it forward. 

“Not how I’d put it, but thank you?” He smiled to himself.

“You make it look fun,” you clarified.

“Fun?” He laughed. “You think being a lawyer is fun?” he laughed.

“You’re telling me it isn’t?” you challenged him.

Rafael stopped and thought for a moment. Sure, there was a shit ton of paperwork involved in his job, what career wasn’t? There were sometimes tedious back and forth, a lot of ass kissing. But he had to admit, being in that courtroom, he felt in his element. He’d never admit it, but he felt like a rock star. 

“...It is fun,” He finally conceded with a smile, adding: “If you’re good at it,”

“Oh, I’m good at it,” You assured him.

“Are you now?” He smirked. 

“Yeah, and in about six months I’ll show you,” You took a brazen step forward.

“I look forward to it,” Rafael did his best to keep from looking down at your lips as he kept a cool front. He was knocked from his concentration by his Uber pulling up to the curb. He nodded to the driver to give him a second before turning back to you.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you Monday,” He made an awkward waving motion with his hands before starting to get into the car. This was it, he was leaving. If you didn’t do something right now you’d hate yourself in the morning. And every day after that.

“Hey counselor?” you stopped him using the best confident voice you could.

“Yes?” He stepped back onto the curb.

“This is the part where you ask me out, and I say yes,” the smoothest line you had and probably would ever speak in your life flowed out of your mouth in the most tantalizing smirk you could muster.

“Is it?” He asked in a rather cold tone. “I really don’t think it is,”

“W-What?” your crowning moment smile was slapped off your face with that answer. Had you totally read this whole situation wrong? How could you read it wrong?!

“I think it’s the part where I ask you to get in the car,” his cheeky smile now returned as he opened the backseat of the black town car. You did your best to keep your jaw from hitting the floor. 

“Nice,” you simply smirked, biting your lip. You stepped inside the car and slid over letting Rafael follow you.

“I guess to answer your question; yes, I do have a crush on you Miss Y/L/N,” he answered huskily, now that your two bodies were closely confined in the backseat. 

“Eh, I guess you’re alright,” You giggled before he slowly put a hand under your chin and brushed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. After a few seconds he pulled back slightly to say:

“You realize if any of your professor’s find out you're fraternizing with the ADA, they could take disciplinary action?” 

“Worth it,” you grinned devilishly before pulling his face back into yours, this time with a hungrier kiss. 

That night as you laid in bed next to a naked, sleeping Rafael, you made a mental note to send Sonny the biggest meatball sub on Monday.

[anyoneseenadam]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader where they are cuddling and talking after a long day of work?

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: mental health/anxiety being mean, insecurity, asides from that it’s pure fluff and nice and lovey dovey

a/n: I love writing fluff omg, I went in a slightly different route that I intended with this one but I hope you like it :))))

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

You pushed the heavy wooden door of your home open, dragging your legs in as you fought to keep your eyes open. You pushed the door closed with your back, leaning your head against it, and closing your eyes for a second, before sliding down, still leaning against the door, and wrestling to remove you shoes with a huff.

You heard a cough ahead of you and looked up to see Azriel fondly watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was still in his leathers, so you presumed he had just beat you home, his tired eyes sparkling with humour as he watched you struggle with your boots. You didn’t say anything as you stood and padded over to him on heavy feet, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing your eyes shut.

You didn’t want to think of the long week you had dealt with, you just wanted to bury yourself under a mountain of pillows and blankets and maybe wrap your limbs around Azriel like a koala bear. He wrapped his arms around you, scarred hands rubbing up and down your back as the two of you stood together in silence, simply breathing in the other and allowing your souls to be reacquainted.

When you first met Azriel he had wandered into your shop on a whim, wanting to get Feyre some flowers to congratulate her on the pregnancy and he remembered Elain had mentioned this shop being one of her favourites. He had expected to be in and out, not in the mood for a long conversation, or any conversation for that matter. But as soon as he saw your pretty face, your flowy, dress that stopped just above your dirt covered knees, all his plans were thrown out the window.

“Can I help you?” you had asked, sweet-lipped, your voice sounding the way cherries tasted, sweet but with a deeper richness. A smooth tone that he could listen to for hours.

He ended up buying as many flowers as he could without seeming insane, not wanting you to ever stop speaking, wanting you to explain the meaning behind every flower in your store if it meant he got to stay with you.

You had noticed him as well of course. Who wouldn’t, he was beautiful and carried himself with so much grace and poise that you were sure he was a fallen angel. You had lengthened your descriptions of the flowers, face heating when you realised you were rambling and fighting a grin when he asked you to continue.

You had invited him to sit with you as you were brewing tea and he had accepted, sipping tentatively at the tea you told him you grew yourself, the greenhouse in your garden perfect for the needed flowers. The two of you had spoken for hours before he left, ignoring the confused looks from his friends when he came home with six separate bouquets of flowers. Instead deciding to picture your pretty face as he lay in bed that night, finally getting rest for the first time in weeks.

Now, you were wrapped up in his arms, still not speaking. He didn’t worry too much, he knew that sometimes you weren’t ready to speak, that some days you just needed some quiet to process your day and come back to yourself. When you had first explained the way you would drift from your own mind, feeling as if you were floating above your own body Azriel had almost cried, the realisation that maybe he wasn’t the only one in the world, that maybe there was someone for him after all.

He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the plants littered around the house, before shifting you onto one hip like a baby, knowing you wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. He set about brewing your favourite tea, smiling as he picked up the pot that you had shared the fifth time he came to visit you.

The store had been closed but you had invited him, so he pushed in, cringing at himself when he realised how early he was but all his thoughts came to a halt when he heard that sweet voice of yours coming from your apartment above your shop.

“My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner. If the Heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece, every Sunday's getting more bleak a fresh poison each week- AH!” you screamed when you saw him standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to your heart as it slowed back to its regular beat. “Fuck you, oh my.”

He genuinely laughed then, not expecting to hear you swear. The girl who had green stained fingers and who fed stray cats, the girl who always decorated for every holiday and who apologised when she bumped into inanimate objects. Your face was hot to the touch and you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, so he had stopped laughing, moving to up your face, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“You have the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard.” He said sincerely but you scoffed,

“No I really don’t,” you laughed but he saw the insecurities then, “I know it’s whiny.” He frowned; your voice having been one of your most attractive traits in his eyes. He had started to see beneath your cracks then, but now with you wrapped around him he remembered how deep they went.

“Do you want to talk about it baby?” he asked carefully, not wanting to startle you, knowing how deep you could get in your head, tiny noises startling you when you were zoned out.

“Bad brain.” Was all you muttered, and he frowned but just kissed your forehead and continued making your tea. When he was done he carried both you and the tea through to your bedroom, setting the tea down before twisting you again and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the side of the bath and wet a cloth, cleaning the makeup from your face, and moisturising your skin before picking you back up and taking you back to your room. You slowly changed into one of his shirts and some loose boxers before crawling under the duvet and reaching your hands out to Azriel who had changed into his pyjama bottoms.

He crawled in next to you, pulling you into his chest, his wings wrapping around the two of you and then his shadows settling over both of you, protecting you from the outside world.

“How was your week?” he asked, one hand coming up to play with your hair knowing how much it relaxed you and feeling his heart warm when he felt you smile against his neck.

“Bit shit,”

“How so?”

“Just rude customers, and this one guy wanted like two dozen flowers which I made up but then he couldn’t pay and trashed the bouquets I had made him. Plus all the noise made my anxiety play up,” you muttered, and he frowned, not liking how put out you sounded.

“Want me to kill him?” he asked, only half-joking.

“I think that’s a bit extreme,” you laughed into his shoulder.

“Lightly maim then?”

“Maybe just a scare, make him think his house is haunted or something,”

“That I can do.” He smiled, kissing you, happy to have you partially back to him.

“What about you, how was your week, I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve been doing some stuff for Rhys.”

“I’m presuming I’m not allowed to hear about it,” you said, well aware of how secretive his job was.

“It’s not a mission per say, I’m just babysitting.”

“Is it fun at least?” you asked, grinning at him cheekily and he scrunched up his face, thinking back over his week of baby sitting two horny Fae’s while he dreamt of being in your little apartment.

“Not the word I would use, they’re too horny for their own good.”

“The babies?!”

“No! NO! They’re not actually children!” he backtracked as you collapsed into a fit of giggles, Azriel joining you soon after. “You know I think they suspect something,” he said once you finally calmed down, “I think they’ve worked out I’m sneaking off.”

“Hmm, guess we have to kill them then.” You mused and Azriel grinned,

“Only reasonable course of action.”

“I mean we’d be fools not to,”

“Clearly.” He laughed, before tightening his grip, “seriously though, do you want to meet them?”

“I mean, yeah. I think it’d be nice,” he noticed your mood had shifted again and nudged you, imploring you to continue, “It’s just you’re all so accomplished and amazing, powerful people and I’m just… me.”

He tried to ignore the pain that stabbed into his heart at your self-deprecating words, having thought them about himself enough times to know how they felt. “Don’t say that, you’re an incredible person. And even if you weren’t the kindest, sweetest person I had ever met, you’re still the girl I love and honestly I think Cassian is one ex-girlfriend away from selling me to the highest bidder.”

You laughed and nuzzled in farther, “Kindest person you’ve ever met?”

“Well asides from the occasional death threats,”

“ah yes, ignoring that. Of course.” He laughed and kissed your forehead, eyes closing as he heard your voice get softer and your breath slower.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as you felt your eyelids droop, the weight of the week lifted off of your shoulders as you buried yourself in Azriel’s arms, peaceful in his embrace.

“I love you.”

[xxhanjifairytalexx]

your flesh, blood, brains

LINK TO MY MASTERLIST !!

bestfriend!jisung x zombie!reader

body worship / brainwashing

cw // attempted brainwashing, talk about harming someone else, mentions of blood

jisung sobbed watching as you, his best friend, writhed around on the floor, whimpering in pain as your body tried to unnaturally change its dna. 

you had been bitten on the arm a few days ago on the subway on the way home from work, not thinking too much of it since new yorkers were weird beings. the bite started to burn a few hours after, but it wasn't until two days later that things took a turn for the worse.

jisung came over to your apartment after you texted that something was wrong, and he arrived to you throwing up blood, and what looked to be a small internal organ. whatever it was, you both knew something was seriously wrong when you collapsed in the floor, muscles seizing as you cried out in pain.

"i n-need you," you wailed in pain as your head smacked on the floor.

"please stop moving," jisung begged, "you're going to hurt yourself."

"need y-you, s-so bad.”

“i don’t know what to do!” he cried out, hands running through his hair. “you need to go to a hospital.”

“i'm g-gonna starve with-o-out you,” you whimpered, teeth aching to feel something between them. “n-need you, need you.”

"i'm calling 911."

"no!" you groaned, "y-you can h-h-help me."

"how?" he cried, "i don't know what's happening!"

your arms reached out, hands desperately trying to grab at the empty floor in front of you. 

"y-your flesh, blood, b-brains."

jisung watched as your eyes suddenly went black, the pain you were feeling increasing significantly as you became less aware of your surroundings.

it was now apparent to jisung that the bite wasn't from some insane new yorker like he'd thought. it was more serious than that, his best friend's sweaty delusional self crying out for his body.

you weren’t human anymore.

"i need it so bad, want you so bad," you groaned unconsciously, words flowing from your mouth without thought. "gotta sink my teeth into your skin, feel it tear under the pressure as i rip into your flesh. watch as your luscious blood pours out of the wound and into my hands. feel your soul leave your body as i bash your head into the floor until your brains leak out of your ears, dripping straight into my mouth and warming my throat like honey. i need it more than the air i used to breathe, please, please come over here."

why was jisung actually considering surrendering himself to you?

these obviously weren’t your thoughts at all, but it was you, his best friend saying those things. even though you weren’t completely there, it still made his heart flutter that you needed him.  

thankfully his mind started thinking rationally again, wondering why he was almost ok with allowing his best friend to kill him, let alone consume him.

"n-no, stay away," he cried, distancing himself by standing on the other side of the couch which you were lying in front of.

"need your brains now, can't live one more second without them. i'm gonna die if i don't, please, please, please.”

jisung held his hands over his ears but never took his eyes off of you, watching as your wide eyes stared deep into him, keeping his attention.

“i know you’ve wanted me for a while,” your voice cooed, ignoring the pain as you tried to seduce your first meal. “i’ve wanted you for even longer, since the day we met. don’t make me wait any longer, please.”

was this your way of enticing him? cause it was sure working.

jisung walked around the couch, getting just a bit closer to your shaking body that was still lying down on the ground. he knew he shouldn’t do this, but it was still you, right? not some monster.

his ears were still covered by his hands, but they were slipping with each second that passed, your eyes staring into his with a look that drew him closer and closer, deeper into your trance.

“i need you so badly, jisung, don’t make me beg any longer. you don't want me to die, right?”

he shook his head, tears rolling down his blushed cheeks.

“then fucking get over here!” you screamed, losing your cool composure in an instant. “this is torture! do you like seeing your best friend being tortured? does this pleasure you? i bet you’re hard thinking about teasing me, making me beg for you over and over again until you eventually surrender yourself to me. gonna cream your pants or something, watching me cry out for you? bet you already came on the way here, thinking about how i begged you on the phone for help.”

“no, it’s not like that,” jisung cried, “i swear. i just can’t help you that way, i don’t want you to hurt me.”

you were full on screaming now, begging for his body.

“i would never hurt you! who do you think i am, a monster?”

tears streamed down your face at the assumption that you had lost your mind, even though it was true—you had lost your mind, but jisung didn’t need to know that.

you were desperate to feed, and it had to be right now, no matter who the victim was.

“jisung, please!” a scream ripped through your throat, your entire body seizing up as the painful agony you were experiencing only got worse and worse.

all he could do was stand there and sob, watching as his best friend cried out in desperation, descending into madness. he wanted to save you, but he couldn’t, there was no viable solution.

jisung didn't think he could listen to you whine any longer. it was killing him.

“jisung, please! don’t do this to me! don’t fucking do this to me! ahh, i’m gonna die, please!

JISUNG!”

and then, silence.

your cries for help suddenly stopped, the room going quiet.

jisung was now curled into himself behind the couch, hands over his ears as he cried. he was so overwhelmed that he barely noticed the screaming had stopped.

a few minutes passed before he noticed the quietness, which turned his sad cries into panicked whispers as he ran around to the other side of the couch, dropping to his knees at the sight of your still body.

“no, no, no,” he begged, “please don’t leave me.”

he called out you name—no response.

shook your shoulder—no response.

placed his head on your chest, in hopes of hearing a heartbeat—nothing but silence.

you were gone.

“please come back, please,” he cried into your still chest, slamming his fist on the ground in frustration. “n-no, please.”

suddenly your arm shot off the ground, grabbing jisung’s arm and pulling it up to your mouth. you bit him, letting your teeth puncture his skin as you tore a chunk of flesh out, moaning in satisfaction as jisung screamed in unbearable pain.

he wailed, trying to loosen your impossibly tight grip, but it was no use. he wasn’t getting his arm back anytime soon, and he wouldn’t need to in a few minutes time.

“don’t you get it now? teasing people isn’t nice.” you chuckled as the euphoria replaced all the pain you had been experiencing. “wasn’t so hard to give in, now was it?”

“p-please, stop,” jisung cried as you took another bite, feeling his arm throb as he tried his best not to vomit at the sight of his open wound. he bit his lip, still trying to get out of your grasp, but slowly giving up as his soul began to fade more and more.

"i love your body so much, thank you," you mumbled over and over again, drunk on his body as you ate and ate until jisung was no more than a memory, his screams nothing but an echo.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 11

Cult Girl goes on a little solo excursion while Hannibal works.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: (fake) blood, mentions of death overseas, anti-choice harassment, discussion of abortion

Archie and Max leaving the picture was a problem you couldn't bring yourself to deal with when you awoke the next day. You anticipated a massive downward spiral if you didn't do something for yourself and fast. You'd spent so much time worrying about your schoolwork and your baby that it was long past due.

You made a couple of phone calls and found a GameStop a little out of the way with a used copy of Pokémon Alpha Sapphire for sale. About twenty minutes drive. Hannibal had back-to-back appointments clogging up his day, so it gave you an excuse to go on a little excursion.

You climbed into your car, picked an extensive playlist of your favorite songs and set off. You plugged the directions into your phone and let the map guide you. The roads narrowed as you watched your surroundings grow less and less familiar.

Soon enough, you pulled into a parking lot. Nestled between a Planned Parenthood and a used bookstore, the GameStop beckoned you. At the end of your tunnel vision was that game and nothing could stop you from getting it.

Certainly not from lack of trying.

"Stop right there!" A voice said. It chuckled, trying to make the rude interruption seem friendly.

An obstacle appeared in your line of sight: a plain-looking middle-aged white woman with dyed blonde hair. Just your garden variety Karen.

"Can I help you?" You said, giving your voice a distinct, annoyed bite.

She smiled, though not without discomfort. "Are you going, y'know, in there?"

She gestured to the building behind you. Uncertain of what she wanted or why she was making a trip to the GameStop so weird, you answered in the affirmative.

"Yeah, why?"

She wrapped her hand around your arm, as if to restrain you. Her touch made your skin crawl.

"I really don't think you should go in there."

You finally put the pieces together. This lady was just some anti-choice maniac, waiting outside a Planned Parenthood for any random pregnant woman to approach.

"Yeah, I totally carried this baby for five months just to get rid of it within a week of the legal termination threshold." You rolled your eyes. "I just want it to feel the maximum possible amount of pain when I destroy it."

The woman's face turned into one of abject horror and you smiled, feeling proud of yourself. You yanked your arm from her hand with full intent to walk away. That should have been the end of it.

"Wait!" She shouted, snatching you by the shoulder. "Please, reconsider. God gave you that little one because he wants you to be a mommy!"

"For the love of fuck, woman." You snarled. "Can you seriously not pick up on sarcasm? I'm not even going to the clinic. I'm going to the GameStop."

She wasn't convinced. "See, I think you're lying to me. I think you're telling me one thing and then you're gonna do another thing."

"What the hell is it any of your business, Karen?" You scowled at her. "Leave me alone!"

"Just pray about it, please!" She pleaded. "What if your baby grows up to be a soldier? Protecting your freedom?"

"Oh, then I should definitely kill it now." You snarked. "Would save him the trouble of getting blown up by other Americans in a senseless war like my dad."

Adda girl, [F/N]! You thought to yourself. Nothing gets nosy strangers to go away quite like revealing even more personal information!

She put both her hands on your protruding belly. "Don't worry, angel. Mommy isn't going to kill you! Aunt Laurie won't allow it!"

You vaguely remembered your obstetrician saying something about how twenty-week fetuses could hear the outside world. You weren't planning on subjecting the kid to violence this early on, but desperate times call for desperation.

You grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her down. She screamed, getting the attention of a few onlookers.

"Help!" She wailed, lying on the ground as if she couldn't get up. "I'm being attacked!"

You dashed as quickly as your legs could carry you into the GameStop. The lone cashier, a purple-haired girl with a nose ring, pretended that she hadn't been watching the altercation and looked back down at her sandwich.

"Welcome to GameStop." She said, hesitantly. "Are you... [F/N]?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm here for that copy of Alpha Sapphire."

"Tubular." She rummaged in a drawer beside her for the envelope.

A rather massive eevee plush displayed behind the counter caught your eye. "How much for her?"

The cashier placed the game on the counter and looked back at the massive eevee. "Fourty-four ninety-five."

"I'll take her too." You said.

The cashier pulled the eevee down from the shelf and scanned its tag.

"Aight, your total is sixty-nine eighty." She said.

"Nice." You snickered, reaching for your credit card.

The cashier smirked as you inserted the chip. "Hey, was that crazy lady accosting you outside?"

"I take it she does that a lot?" You asked.

She heaved a sigh. "You have no idea."

You looked behind at the large windows and saw the woman standing outside the door, waiting for you. You felt like a caged animal. Your eyes scanned the room and landed on a couple ketchup packets. A sick idea formed in your head.

"Are you gonna use those?" You asked, pointing to them.

The cashier glanced at the woman and raised her eyebrow. "Not if you have a better use for them."

The bell jangled as you walked out of the store with a shopping bag around your wrist and a ketchup packet in each hand. Just as suspected, the woman grabbed your arm.

"Oh, honey!" She exclaimed. "Before you leave, god put it on my mind to say a little prayer for the unborn soldier he's gifted you in your womb."

"I'd rather you not." You said, trying to yank your arm out of her surprisingly strong grip.

"You're brave, but foolish, girl." She barked, positioning herself in front of you. You fidgeted with the ketchup packets behind your back, opening them just enough.

The woman put both her hands on your belly. The second you felt her touch, you threw yourself backwards. You landed, not without pain, squarely on your ass.

"Oh my?" The woman covered her mouth with her fingertips. "Are you--"

You leaned forward and moaned in pain, clutching your baby bump with one hand while drenching your shorts in ketchup with the other. You pretended to cave around the pain, then threw yourself back, revealing a bloody stain leaking from between your legs. The woman shrieked.

"Oh my fucking god!" The cashier from the store said, rushing to your side. She put her hand on your shoulder and glared at the woman. "What did you do?!?"

"She pushed me and I think it hurt my baby!" You wailed.

"Holy shit, why would you hurt her baby?!" The cashier shouted, allowing you to slink your arm around her shoulder for support. She then snatched your shopping bag from the ground.

"I didn't mean to, honest!" She said, on the verge of tears. "I was just trying to spread god's love and joy-"

"By assaulting a pregnant woman?!" The cashier yelled. You were clutching your stomach in fake pain. She helped you to your feet. "Come on, let's get you to the clinic."

You conjured up some fake tears. "You killed my baby!"

"You wicked woman!" She cried out. Her voice faded out as you approached the clinic. "You don’t deserve a baby!"

You kept up the crying and wailing until you arrived at the Planned Parenthood. More interested in covering her own ass than begging for forgiveness, the crazy woman made herself scarce. Entering the clinic with an incriminating bloodstain on your pants was awkward, for a moment. But it was easy enough to explain and even earned a laugh or two from the doctors on staff.

Once you were completely certain the crazy lady had left, you scooped up your shopping bag, said goodbye to the cashier and climbed into the car.

Before you put the key in the ignition, you took a moment. You took a moment to do something you knew you shouldn't have.

You placed your hand on your belly and stroked it. "We make a pretty good team, huh?"

You didn't know why you paused. It wasn't like the fetus was going to answer.

"Sorry you had to see that." You said. "Or, I guess, hear that. I wish I could tell you that people aren't really like that in real life, but I can't. Either that or I'm just a magnet for insane people. Hope that it's not genetic."

It just occurred to you that, if your obstetrician was right, the fetus heard everything that you said about killing it. Logically speaking, you knew it wasn't developed enough to comprehend what you were saying, but you still felt like you owed it an apology.

"Hey, scamp." You said, appropriating a nickname your grandfather gave you. "I'm sorry that I talked all that shit back there. About killing you and whatnot. I don't want to kill you. I actually want you to live an amazing life."

Just then, you felt a kick. The doctor war right: there was no mistaking it. The baby kicked.

Your mouth hung dumbly open, delight and fear chasing each other around in your mind. "Holy crap!"

You drove home as fast as legally possible. You needed to get home. As you pulled into the driveway, you noticed that Hannibal's car wasn't there.

He'll be home any minute, you thought. Might as well stay out here to catch him when he arrives.

That was an hour ago. Not that you'd noticed. You would have sat in that car, talking to your baby for an eternity. It wasn't until you heard a tapping on the window did you exit your trance.

Hannibal examined the scene. The ketchup, the massive eevee and his suddenly very chatty fiancée shooting the breeze with her fetus. He smirked.

"Did we have a fun afternoon?"

[yanderenightmare]

Ok hi again, I may be over doing it......idgaf I like ur shit! Good shit grade A writing. Aha

Aftercare, does it happen? What do they do?

Also....are these guys aware of their s/o limit if so do they stop😈

Pressing X for doubt

yandere ! BNHA thirsty headcannons

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncom/dubcon, abuse, manipulation, mind control

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

He’ll at least ask. He’s always careful to ask. The actual response isn’t too important. Protest that are drowned out in a moan can’t be seen as an actual protest anyway, and he always makes sure that her words are chocked in her throat. Bakugo knows his worth, he knows that each and every thing he does to her in that bed, it’s guarantied she likes it. Her pride makes her a liar, she can’t be trusted with her own pleasure, not when he knows and has proven time and time again that he knows her body and her limits better than what she does. When he has her bent over his lap, that cute little ass that he knows belongs to him, aiming to make sure that she knows it too, each time his hand comes in harsh contact with the soft flesh, feeling it up like putty in his hand as she winces and cries for him to stop. Her protests can’t be taken seriously, not when two fingers gliding up her pussy tells him all he needs to know, feeling how soaked she already is for him, all warm and velvety and ready. That’s all the answer he needs to keep going.

As far as aftercare goes… it can vary. Sometimes he’ll draw a bath with bubbles and lavender oil and light scented candles. Other times he’ll make food, where he’ll bake desserts more than anything. But there are days he won’t do much more than keep a painfully suffocating grip on her as he drifts rather quickly off to sleep. Exchanging no words except for those growls of good night and I love you. Leaving the rest for after they wake up, having an early morning where he’ll never let her sleep in, dragging her with him to shower before he has to leave, where afterwards he’ll treat her to more tender care on the bed with his face buried between her thighs in a way of apologizing for having to leave her alone all day.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

She shouldn’t worry her pretty little head about anything. Dabi might look like your worst nightmare, but you’d be surprised how soft the darkness really is. He can be persuasive and disarming if and when he wants to be, or he can be foul… He likes finding a mix between the two though, they work better together anyway. Make her feel safe, but only if she obeys, and make her feel fear if she doesn’t. He won’t bite… at least not for any longer than to make her cry for him, for those precious little water-works to bubble up to the surface. Making a chew toy out of that pretty swan-neck of hers, paint it with purple, resembling what hue of mulberry-wine found on his marred skin. Nibbling on that cute button between her legs, feel her tremble in his hold and hear her gasp out his name. Or grinding those perfect little nipples between the rows of his teeth, watching her blubber out her pleas when the pressure he applies threatens to bite the flimsy nib off, feel her pussy clench around his shaft upon the anticipation and fear. Fear does such peculiar things to people, especially in the form of threats, especially when walking hand in hand with pleasure. His darling doesn’t know what to make of herself, left completely like putty in his hands, all for him to toy with and tamper and tease. Where she doesn’t dare try and make him stop, she doesn’t dare allow herself to enjoy what he’s doing either, because only mad people run into things they already know to be a trap.

He’ll hush and coo at her to stop crying afterwards, her little mind on the verge of breaking and her pitter patter heart standing on the cliff’s edge ready to jump with nothing but Dabi to hold onto, the knot in her lower abdomen already having exploded time and time again because of him. She’s such a mess, such a cross-eyed wet hot mess, his little mess and that always manages to bring a smile to his face.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

If Tomura’s in a mood, as in a childish fit, she can expect no rest, because the wicked as we know get no rest, and the unfortunate sweet thing kidnapped by the wicked get no rest either. Tomura’s mood, quite like his morals, change like tidewater. Sometimes he’ll behold her precious beautiful body as though she’s made up of fine porcelain, meant to be touched and worshipped softly, where the fact of her wanting the worship or not is irrelevant. He’ll still touch and touch and let himself get carried away by how insanely soft her skin is as opposed to him. He’ll fuck her slowly, each hump meaningful and hauled out to the max as so to feel every single inch of him filling her up… Then there’s his other mood… The feeling of opposition is no less there, how unfairly gorgeous she is in contrast to how appalling he is, however… instead of it evoking worship… it evokes humorous triumph. Gut-wrenching nasty despicable satisfaction, where it brings him such inane pleasure to think that someone as disgusting as him has the power and the will to corrupt something so pure, something so pretty, and how there is quite literally nothing she can do to stop him, nothing at all… it gets his blood rushing in sadistic glee when he pushes her down on her stomach, fisting her hair while jutting into her from behind, every little salacious depraved thought growled into her ear, with no regard to her choked screams except for a wild grin, spiked to go even faster.

Not much tender aftercare here I’m afraid, he thinks it’s best to leave her alone, getting in his chair to game, taking one long last look at his cum seeping from her hole, his handprint red across her ass, still looking so pretty even with all those bruises… maybe even inspired to go for another round.

SHINSO HITOSHI

Aww. Little kitty is at her breaking point? The collar is too tight for Master’s precious pretty pet? Pussy-cat wants a break? But good kittens deserve good toe-curling eye-crossing world-shattering rewards, and bad kittens will be punished however Master chooses, won’t they? If she screams no, he’ll hear yes. If she screams stop, he’ll hear more. If she screams please, well… he’ll still hear please… It’s so unbearably cute to see her stutter and frustrate over how her words come out all wrong, as if someone’s picked her brain, pulled on her strings as though she were a puppet, changed what she wants to say, to what he wants to hear. What’s even cuter is when those large eyes of hers go all ditzy, crossing paths, that crinkle between her brows furrowing, with her tongue falling over her lips. But, the cutest thing is when her tail wraps around his thigh and leg, holding onto him in such a soft embrace when her bliss strides over her body, reaching all the way to the tip of her plushy soft tail, when her wrists and ankles are too busy being kept tied snug and firm together, as he continues to slam himself fast-forwardly into her.

He’ll erase his mind-tricks afterwards, careful to restore anything he might have disturbed or broken during their playtime. Her fluffy tail still slithered around his thigh as he pets her over her soft ears, telling her what a good little kitten she is and how proud she’s made him, feeling her shiver and jolt against him, small little spasms followed by short acute hiccups, proof of how bendable those so-called limits are when Hitoshi takes control. Proof of how good he can make her feel, so good she loses track of where she is, so good she loses contact with her mind, so good the only thing she’s still able to do is purr.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

Oh… She can’t blame him when his rut rolls around the corner. He can’t control those urges. Not when she’s there, so plain and defenseless and a perfect fit for him to take all that cooped up frustration out on. He just needs to fill her each and every crevice up with his seed, make sure she’s well bred, pump her full of his cum until his balls no longer have anything left to give. He’ll hump like a frenzied pup, hands gripping her hips so tight her feet don’t even touch the ground. He’ll pound until he’s exhausted, until she’s left a swollen sweat-slicked mess, no longer able to stand straight without her weak and wobbly knees giving out beneath her. She wishes his rut and her heat could line up, so she doesn’t have to go through the same thing twice, but she isn’t that lucky, and Keigo is. He’ll be counting down the days until finally picking up those sweet tones in the air, that aroma that makes him go feral. She does him a favor by acting so shy, so ashamed, it makes it that much more fun when she’s struggling against both him and herself. All it takes is for him to put his thumb in her mouth… how she’ll begin to drool at the very first taste, her eyes losing that feral fight and falling prey to the feeling of her nerves being set on fire. He gladly indulges her needs, his heart fluttering at how clingy she becomes, how sweet, blubbering out gibberish, shapeless words that are such a good replacement for what vile things she’ll yell at him most other times.

He’ll be so hungry in the mornings after, disappointed for the lack of food in the house, but he can’t blame his darling for not cooking, not when he’s rendered her lame, she can’t very well cook if she can’t stand. He’ll order so much take-out the smell of sweat and juices soon gets coated and overwhelmed by the smell of spice and broth. Eating, regaining all his strength… that was only day one of two weeks… the rut is only just beginning.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Don’t worry, Izuku knows how much to give and how much to take, just as he knows when to give it and when to take it, and how to give and how to take. He knows what punishment is due for what crime as well as he knows when rewards are in order. And if he so happens to need to punish her… he’ll make sure she does something in need of punishment. It’s not often he needs to act on those sadistic carnal vulgar yearnings, but a bad day gets a whole lot better if he can come home and take it out on someone, especially when he gets to play with her beforehand, poke and prod until she slips up, allowing him to pounce on her the second she fucks up like a fox finally done playing with his food, his little bunny. The ends justify the means after all. He knows that it’s unfair to take his frustration out on his little darling… but… it being wrong… somehow makes it feel better. Having her blubbering on choked sobs and quaking beneath him, under his blood-soaked scarred hands, her little hole serving as such a snug and no doubt painful fit for his cock to abuse. Hearing her apologize for doing absolutely nothing at all, just to satiate his craze, all because he decided he wanted to exercise his dominance.

One thing that’s good about Izuku is that once is enough, and though that one time might feel like a million times stretching over a million days, where she’s left unable to walk properly… once he’s done, she can be sure he’s done… at least until the next day. If she hasn’t passed-out, he’ll let her cry it off when he’s done, offering no words but still comforting her by stroking her back or fiddling with her hair, twirling it about his fingers as she rests on his chest, her tears making his bicep itch with irritation, but he’ll allow her that much.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

He tries being sweet, he tries being gentle, he tries mimicking the same type of softness as his darling bestows upon him, yet… although she’s sweet, she’s also so aggravatingly reluctant, and Kai doesn’t have the time nor the patience to second-guess every single little thing he wants to do. It’s impractical, it’s wasteful, it’s stupid, and stupidity as we know is a disease he can’t risk being infected with. No, better then, for him to just take the lead, for him to make the decisions for her, for him to decide her limits, up to him to decide when she’s ready to take his cock, how fast and hard he can thrust into her, how tight he can grip her wrists when she starts pushing at him, how many bruises are too many, how many times she can cum. Besides, if things go too far… he knows how to piece her together again. He hasn’t studied every single detail of her just to let all that valuable information go to waste. He’ll see to it that she’s as good as new once their done, if not, maybe even better, maybe even less reluctant to give into what he wants next time, maybe a bit more respectful of the rules, maybe a bit more understanding of who there is the boss and who there is the brittle brainless little toy.

Pain is a good cleanser anyway, despite it being bloody and gory and mixed in with tears and drool and snot and whatever else may occur once the need for his quirk arrives after his aggression causes something to bruise or break. She might think that it’s cruel that healing her has to hurt more than the wound itself, but what she needs to learn is that prosperity always comes at a price, a price that he’s all too willing to pay when she fails to live up to her potential.

TODOROKI SHOTO

Limits are made to be broken, to be conquered, in order for us to prosper. She should be grateful she at least gets the liberty to be with the one she loves, the one who loves her. She should at least be grateful that it’s not just anyone who’s breaking her limits, but him. Him and his hands and his tongue and his cock and his frostbite and his flames and his smile and his biting laughter. She knows by now that there is no stopping him when he starts, she knows that her only hope is to wait for herself to achieve that opium-blown ecstasy and ride that insanity where her skin feels like fire and her insides like ice and every touch, no matter how feather-light or how brutish and bruising, is god’s touch.

Shoto is unprecedentedly thorough and dreadfully talented at aftercare. While his darling is lying all limp and numbed-down, holding onto the prickling feeling dancing like fire-ants on her skin, she can barely even capture the feeling of Shoto wrapping her up in a fuzzy robe. His cold lips pressing onto her forehead and by the time she comes to, when she finally and woefully breaches the surface and gets reeled back into reality, right when she’s at the verge of collapsing from having all her hormones crash, her adrenaline fizzing out into nothing and she’s left feeling all cold and so dreadfully sad, Shoto’s right there, making her feel warm and appreciated and safe. He’ll light candles, scented with rosehip, he’ll already have picked out a movie, he’ll have the chocolate ready, the tea brewing in their matching cups, swiftly braiding her hair into a neat loose setup to keep it from falling into her face as he knows she’s much too drained to lift her hand, resting between his legs, her head using his chest as a headrest. If he’s being honest, he isn’t quite sure what he loves more, the play-session or the aftercare, all he knows is that one is impossible without the other… yet again proving the importance of balance.

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[hermannsthumb]

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

[aetheternity]

hola 😎 i have a request for ya! which i do hope you like cause I literally spent hALF aN hoUR thinking of how it should go... anyWAYS, i’m gonna request it rn cause why not? .. anyways—maybe a hc for Levi, Armin, Erwin, Mikasa, and Pieck; their S/O’s favorite memories with them are playing in their mind. They wished it happened again. people thought they (they = pieck, levi, armin - yk)—people thought they went crazy. out of their mind insane. They do often smile, when they hear their S/O’s laugh. They cry when they hear their S/O’s screams. They couldn’t save them in time. they were now dead. // now do keep in mind, that this all happened weeks after their S/O’s death. they felt so useless at the fact that they couldn’t save them in time. the one they loved the most.. totally wasn’t crying while thinking of this shdjf

(Not gonna lie had to read this request a couple times cause I was confused. Hope this is what Anon wanted.)

Erwin

•Being a commander he'd seen way too many people die but never had he ever been this close to one of them.

•When his S/O passed away he'd spent most of his time in his office, burying himself in insane amounts of paperwork.

•Probably isolates from Hange and Levi for a while as well.

•That is until his S/O's memories start to pop up in his head.

•At first he thinks he's just lucid dreaming but soon the "dreams" become too realistic to ignore.

He's listening to his S/O laughing at his corny jokes again.

He's seeing his S/O pout at him when he's still in his office after hours.

His S/O's smile shines so bright and so deep he can practically reach out to touch them all over again.

•After the third occurrence of these "dreams" he's going to Hange.

Levi immediately tells him he's gone insane.

Hange is definitely laughing the second he brings up the idea that his S/O's memories were transferred to him.

(Kinda weird how judgey they are when they fight man eating giants and have a literal titan on their team but ok.)

•More people find out and of course they don't take it too seriously but Erwin always feels his heart race when he gets a new memory of his S/O.

•He'd put his head down on his desk. Or lay back in his chair to watch every bit of it unfold.

•He's slowly repressed the image of his S/O's bloodied corpse from weeks prior. The sound of their screams and replaced them with every memory he now possesses from them.

•They're his little gifts.

Pieck

•She's got pictures of her S/O in so many different situations all over the place. In her titan, in her room, some kept in her wallet.

•Hasn't taken down not one since they died.

•Probably started contributing less to any conversations she had with any of her fellow comrades.

•Tho Reiner and Porco refuse to leave her side for too long.

She'll ask them for an hour alone and less than a minute after the hour is up there they are.

They just know how painful these kinds of situations are and even if Pieck's not crying in front of them they can see the pain in her eyes.

•She's secretly glad for their support.

•When she starts seeing her S/O's memories she probably cries the first couple times.

Doesn't tell Porco and Reiner or anyone for that matter until they walk in on her sobbing her eyes out while holding something precious of her S/O's

Porco thinks she's lost it but Reiner is immediately trying to reason and understand what she thinks she's seeing.

•Slowly but surely she's allowing herself to feel everything she'd been holding back once she sees her S/O squeezing the life out of a cute stuffed bear she'd gotten them. The smile on their face etched into her memory all over again.

•Everyone is definitely still confused about what she thinks she's seeing because she didn't.. eat her S/O???? But they've grown to just accept it.

Mikasa

•This girl has spent weeks after her S/O died in a state of Libero

•She's there but she's not there.

•It shows on her face to Eren and Armin but like everyone else is kinda just seeing the normal Mikasa.

•As soon as she has nothing going on. She's in bed under the covers or sitting at her S/O's grave.

Falls asleep there from time to time and has to be brought back inside. (Probably by Jean/Armin.)

•When she starts to see her S/O's memories she's kinda awestruck.

Sees her S/O falling asleep on her shoulder but it's not from her point of view??

She's so confused but for the first time since the night after she couldn't save them she actually sleeps through the whole night.

The beautiful memory of her S/O's hair flowing in the wind now a distant memory.

•She wakes up to her tears staining her pillow, hair a wild mess and Armin and Eren standing over her.

She'd managed to over sleep somehow.

•When she tells Armin and Eren they're skeptical to say the least. Armin is trying to figure out how something like that could be possible while Eren is doubting it and saying Mikasa was dreaming.

•But to her it was so real.

•She'd felt her S/O for the first time since they’d died so many weeks ago. Somehow.

Armin

•Armin is breaking down left and right.

Sometimes over breakfast

Sometimes after training

•Poor boy is a hot mess. He can't get those screams out of his head. Watching your body slowly crumble away. Your blood spilling over the ground as a titan devoured your quickly draining corpse.

•Sometimes he just holds his head in his arms and rocks back and forth.

He couldn't do anything and now you're gone for good.

•He's got titan memories sure but after a while yours start to pop into his head too.

•He loses his breath as he sees you in his arms again, nuzzling into his chest laughing into his skin.

•He just breaks down again.

•He's like.. "explaining" what he's seeing to the rest of the squad through like tears and muttled breaths and everyone except Mikasa is all like 🤔🤨

•And then Mikasa translates and she's like, "He's seeing his S/O's memories.

•Literally no one has the heart to tell him that it makes no sense. The poor boy's been a mess for weeks. 😭

•They kinda just.. all accept it and like Eren even starts to ask what Armin had seen that day or that night.

•Eventually they think either Armin is really keeping up this charade or he's genuinely got his S/O's memories lodged in his noggin with Berthot's

•And honestly it's better this way because he's functioning so much better now.

Levi

•Spends the first couple weeks being oddly silent.

•He's buried in paperwork anytime anyone sees him in his office. (Like Erwin)

•Erwin and Hange made an attempt. And by attempt I mean Hange went in when Erwin told her to just leave Levi alone and Levi kicked her to the curb.

•Boy gets all soft late at night. Curled up in his chair with the pillow his S/O slept on and his eyes full of tears. Rocking himself as he envisions their voice, their hands..

•And then suddenly he's not anymore

•They're in his memories!

Or well.. their memories are in him.

•He's watching them cry about tough training as they curl into his lap.

•He's seeing their eyes sparkle as he hands them tea.

•If it were possible to hug a memory he would.

•He's not telling a living soul about these memories that aren't his popping into his brain

Because he doesn't need to be told he's probably imagining it.

Because he's got something beautiful to hold on to

Because they're his soulmates precious last gifts to him and they'll die with him.

•Hange definitely finds out something though but oddly enough she's as chill as she can be.

•Levi's little secret is safe with her.