#ignore the brightness its late lmao

[occasionallysiren]

moreee art :D

[wrathofrats]

Kinktober day 7: hate sex

Prompts by @kroas-adtam

what you do on your own time’s just fine, my imagination’s much worse

Alpha/omega

Read now or on ao3

Explicit, 4k.

The thing is, alpha isn’t stupid (despite whatever the fuck earth has claimed). Its easy to notice omega staring when he whips his head away like he’s been smacked whenever alpha turns to meet his gaze. The shaky voice seems obvious when omega doesn’t sound like that around water. He just can’t miss it, can’t ignore how his pupils blow wide and he chews on his lip when he watches alpha play.

It’s disgusting quite frankly

WARNINGS AND TAGS: homophobia, homophobic slurs, homophobic stereotypes, heavy degradation, kinda dubcon but both give pretty enthusiastic consent, tiny bit of blood kink, blink and you’ll miss it, alphas using omega to get off, omega is more than ok with this, tiny bit of forcefem?, objectification, calling a hole a pussy, pls head all my warnings if any of this is a problem skip this one LMAO

Alpha and omega were summoned together. A plume of sparks and smoke, in the midst standing two ghouls that primo had never seen in such sizes. They stepped off the altar with little problem, none of the hissing and fighting that had occurred with Nihils ghouls. They were perfect. Dangerous and obedient for the church's new project.

Alpha had taken his orders more seriously than omega. He was a guard, made from fire and lava in the pits and placed at primos side when he didn’t have a guitar in his hands. Even when he did, he was still silent and stoic. Working on learning the chords as if they were gospel in order to please his papa.

Omega was different. Surely took his job seriously but spent his time in the library doing research, or taking care of the siblings minor injuries. He was friendly and approachable, quickly taking a liking to the other three ghouls that were summoned not long after alpha and him.

He took a special interest in alpha. For being summoned together they rarely interacted outside of band purposes, and even then alpha stayed silent, only really speaking when primo prompted him to. When omega tried, he was usually ignored besides maybe a nod of his head or a grunt.

Even the small interactions made omega blush. He never understood why, simply feeling nervous and out of breath when alpha would so much as look at him. Once alpha asked him how much of the song he had memorized and omega could barely respond to him without his voice shaking. It’s all thoughts to push down for another day. Or maybe until they disappear forever. Swallows his sick little urges, the white hot coil of desire whenever he catches a glimpse of those bright orange eyes or sharp teeth.

It's bad for omega they're in such close quarters all the time, he watches Alpha too much for his own good. He's a handsome devil. Maybe it's for his own good that Alpha barely takes off that stupid mask, maybe it's wrong that he wants to coax the fire ghoul into taking it off for him more often. Show him how rugged and handsome he is beneath like letting him in on a secret.

He scolds himself in private for the way his throat went dry when Alpha brushed too close, hates that he wished Alpha just pushed his way into his space and stayed there. Omega tried to do his work despite feeling on edge every time he was near alpha, tried not to stare at how alphas muscles flex while he plays. All in a day's work.

The thing is, alpha isn’t stupid (despite whatever the fuck earth has claimed). Its easy to notice omega staring when he whips his head away like he’s been smacked whenever alpha turns to meet his gaze. The shaky voice seems obvious when omega doesn’t sound like that around water. He just can’t miss it, can’t ignore how his pupils blow wide and he chews on his lip when he watches alpha play.

It’s disgusting, quite frankly.

Omega walks into the practice room late one evening while alpha is playing. He seems to know his schedule, somehow omega is able to be near him even when alpha tries to go to the practice room at times he thinks he will be alone. It gets on his nerves, if omega wanted to be around him so badly he could stop fucking stalking him and speak like a normal ghoul.

Alpha sets his guitar to the side when he hears the doorknob turn. Taking a deep breath before getting up to b line towards omega who looks surprised alphas even acknowledged his presence.

Omegas slammed against the wall before he can process alpha has his hands on him. Wide eyed and trying to cower as alpha growls.

“What the fuck is your problem man?”

“I’m sorry?” Omega squeaks. He’s easily taller than alpha by a decent bit, but between his hands he feels impossibly tiny.

“You’re always staring at me, won’t even fucking talk to me like some freak. You act like you’re a 12 year old girl with a crush!” Alpha looks somewhat desperate for an answer, eyes darting over omegas face who looks a little too guilty for such an accusation.

And he’s not denying it.

“Oh god! You do!” Alpha scoffed, pulling back like he’s been scalded, “you should be disgusted, that shits not normal, what would papa think if he knew you liked another ghoul?”

There’s a horrific feeling in Omega's gut as alpha berates him. Something swoops in his belly as alpha backs up as if he’s too filthy to even breathe the same air as him. Omegas turned on by this. It does nothing to deter him, it really only makes him hard and flustered.

Alpha glances down much to his own amusement. Even if he thinks omegas disgusting he can find some entertainment in the fact that he’s turned on by this.

"Didn't wanna believe you were some fucking degenerate but look at you...you're hard over this aren't you? hells...somethings wrong with you,"

Alpha moves to almost cup the front of omegas pants. His touch is too harsh to be pleasurable, like anything softer would be enabling the degeneracy, but omega is still filling out anyways in alpha palm.

"Not supposed to get hard over other men, freak."

Omega can’t even muster up a good response for him. He could try to deny it but there’s no denying anything when alphas palm is pressed to his cock.

“Should throw you back into the pits, papa would be so disappointed” alpha sneers. Omega is red all the way to the tips of his ears and to his humiliation he arches into the press of alphas hand for more stimulation, even when he’s being berated like this.

“You’re sick. You’ve been wanting this haven’t you?” Alpha scoffs in disbelief.

Omega bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, he can’t stop himself from nodding in agreement. Alpha laughs and takes half of a step back, retracting his touch. Omega lets out a quiet groan and almost asks him to touch him again, that fuck, he needs alpha to touch him.

“I’m not fucked up like you megs. I don’t need another man to touch me”

There’s a snarl to alphas voice as he continues to talk, his lips drawn up in disgust as omega stands there pathetically hard and trying to cover himself up. He almost feels bad, omega looks properly guilty. Even if he deserves to feel that way.

Alpha makes a decision that can really only be blamed on the heat of the room and the fact that he’s burned through most of the siblings that want him. If omegas going to be a desperate freak, alpha may as well get off if he’s willing.

There’s barely any force in alphas touch as he pushes omega to his knees, he goes down mostly willingly and alpha tries not to look disgusted when omega seems excited that he’s pulling his cock out.

“Mouths a mouth, no different from a girl I guess” alpha mumbles under his breath. Omega reaches to help him guide into his mouth before alpha is smacking his hands away with a hiss “you’re just some hole for me to put my dick in, keep your filthy hands to yourself”

Omegas mouth falls wide open when alpha takes himself out fully and gives himself a few good strokes to harden up. He’s bigger than omega expected, he would’ve wanted him at any size but god he hopes alpha doesn’t hear him whimper when he sees how big he is.

“You’re such a bitch” Alpha scowls, rolls his eyes as omega looks euphoric when he pushes between his lips.

Before omega knows it alpha has his head back against the wall. He’s completely pinned with his hips, nowhere to retreat to as he fucks his mouth and uses him to get off.

It’s a quick sequence of events, alpha pulling out to cum on the floor next to him before cumming down his throat would be some dirty admission to wanting it. Omega looks sad when he watches alpha shoot right onto the tile, even if the sight of alpha blissed out above him is something he will replay for weeks.

Alpha doesn’t say much, just tucks himself back into his pants, helps omega up and gives him a “you ok?” Before leaving without another word when omega gives him a nod.

It’s the start of a bad habit.

As much as alpha doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he halfway enjoyed himself even if his brain was screaming at him not to. He would never admit it, never tell omega that. He’s just some willing participant in alpha needing to get off, no different from a sex doll. Or a whatever easy sibling he can find in the alley ways. Right?

He doesn’t want to say it happens often. Or at least too often for alpha to keep claiming is a coincidence. Always just bullies omega into some tight space away from any prying eyes or ears and forces his mouth open for him to stick his dick into. Hell maybe he even goads him into touching himself if he really is feeling mean.

“You fucking gross enough to get off with just a cock in your mouth? Pathetic.”

Alpha tries not to think about the fact that he can.

He tries not to think about when he cums on his face because he didn’t pull out fast enough and omega sticks his tongue out to catch it, tries not to let the image of omega covered in his cum stick in his brain too much.

And for omega? He provokes it. He wants alpha to bully him, wants his cock in his mouth and god he’s too easy to rile up to pass on the opportunity everytime it rears its ugly head. He shouldn’t revel in being so immoral and dirty, but honestly it’s hard not to.

He rubs against him a bit in the chapel, shoulder to shoulder and much closer than he ever has been because alpha can’t do anything about it. Brushes against he hand as they leave with a look behind him that is devilish even through the uniform mask. Longing touches throughout the day that have alpha growling until he gets annoyed enough to confront him in the empty practice room.

“Fucking pervert” alpha sneers, “you’re lucky I don’t just out you to everyone else, tell them what you’ve really been asking from me after practice”

A pang of humiliation runs through omega as it usually does in these scenarios, feeling almost blasphemous about his feelings but can’t help that alpha does all but discourage it.

“Still need my cock down your throat? So pathetic you’re willing to let me use you just so someone will touch you?”

Omega doesn’t answer. He has no excuse for himself. Even if he did he doesn’t care much considering how hard it makes him when alpha speaks to him like this, and alpha knows it.

Just drops to his knees, he knows the routine. But alpha has a different idea.

“Not this time, stand up facing the wall”

Omega gives him a confused look. This can’t be what he thinks it is, can it? He does what he’s told anyways, stands up and places his arms on the wall, looking back at alpha expectantly.

“Wanted a real pussy tonight I think. Might as well see if yours is even good enough for me to get off”

Omegas brain short circuits as alpha quickly pulls his pants down, leaving him exposed while alpha simply pulls his dick just out of his waistband. An extra hint of embarrassment, and an extra reminder of what omegas really there for.

Alpha is rough, barely gives omega time to react to him putting his hands on his waist before he’s finally pushing in. Omega tries to brace himself but he can’t help the needy moan he lets out when alpha bottoms out inside of him.

“Stay fucking silent, I don’t need the reminder that you might actually cum from this”

He can’t, no matter how hard he tries. Sure he’s been fucked before but it doesn’t happen often. Usually it’s him alone in his room with a cheap toy feeling guilty for thinking about alpha, but actually being split on alphas cock in another story. He bites down so hard on his sleeve he’s sure he’s left holes in it while alpha continues to fuck him relentlessly.

The hand on omegas hips burns as alpha holds him flush to himself. He grips his skin like he has no regard for omegas own comfort and omega hates how much he loves it. It’s rough, he’s sure he will feel it for days and honestly an awful part of him hopes alpha burns right through the top layer of skin so his print sticks forever.

Omega doesn’t take much to get close, already dizzy with alpha shoving his pants down so he can use him. He gets a hand on his cock and gives himself a couple strokes before he’s spilling all over his fist and part of the wall.

Alpha ignores omegas whimpers as he fucks him through his orgasm. He pulls out and cums on the floor next to him, as if it makes the situation any less disgusting for him.

“Faggot” alpha growls, buttoning his pants to leave omega panting.

There’s a part of omega that knows he shouldn’t let that get to him, that he should ignore it and call alpha a dick after he pulls up his own pants but he can’t deny how that makes him feel hot, a burning blush creeping up his chest at the word.

His fingers curl around his cock once he gets back to his room, free hand around his throat as he thinks about that deep raspy voice insulting him, degrading him like he’s worthless. It’s pathetic, he know it and he can’t stop, can’t stop letting alpha do whatever he wants to him despite there being that little voice in his head saying it’s wrong. He needs to stop, but the second alpha looks his way the voice gets drowned out with the need to have his cock in him again.

Omegas hand reaches down to prod at his hole. He wiggles three fingers inside. Moaning at how he’s still loose from alphas cock. His mind keeps repeating how alpha called it a pussy, it shouldn’t have his cock leaking onto his stomach, but he can’t help himself.

There has to come a boiling point. Enough quick fucks and blow jobs in secret corners of where they practice that omega gets sick of it. Alpha can degrade him till his heart's content but at the end of the day he’s still coming back to omega, still using him instead of a sibling to get off even if he claims omega isn’t better than some pussy he could find from a cheap prostitute.

It’s a bad routine. Once a week or so alpha just gets pent up and takes it out on omega. Fucking him or shoving his dick down his throat before he inevitably snarls some half thought out insult and tries to cum anywhere but in him.

Alpha walks back to his room late one night after practice alongside omega who keeps his hands shoved into his pockets but won’t stop taking side glances at him. He wants to wipe that stupid innocent look off of his face, he should be disgusted with himself.

He pulls him into the shadow of the side of one of the taller buildings in the abbey. Somewhere they won’t be seen so he can defile him and make him feel filthy and act like it never happened.

Omegas sick of it, sick of alpha acting like he’s better than him even if he’s still the one to initiate every act. Sick of him acting like he’s too good to touch omega even when he comes back time and time again. The tug on his wrist only makes him angry. It’s cold outside, alpha could’ve done this earlier and honestly it’s about time he showed him even the slightest bit of human decency.

He waits until alpha has him in their usual position. Tucked away with his back pressed against the wall and a small prayer that one will find them this time. Even if it’s cold and dirty outside omega does complain, alpha would just say he didn’t deserve any better for being such a pervert.

“If you want this so bad then you won’t complain”

Omega doesn’t fall to his knees like he usually does. He barely even lets himself be pressed against the harsh brick of the wall behind him.

“Thought you wanted a cock in you fag, you know how this goes” alpha rolls his eyes, attempting to bracket omgea in just to get the extra step up on him.

“Seem to really want me on my knees” omega taunts. He tries not to smile and egg him on but the way alpha nearly chokes has him feeling almost giddy with the small amount of power.

“I could find a better mouth to fuck from any one of the siblings, don’t think I don’t just use you because you’re easy”

“Easy? You’re the one who needs to use me because you can’t get anyone else. Was starting to think you actually like it”

Alpha fumes, shoves omega against the wall so hard he’s honestly surprised he doesn’t actually injure him. He pins him there by his neck, almost hoping to scratch his skin against the rough brick. Wants to leave some kind of mark to remind him of practically being alphas toy. His hand pins omega to the brick by his throat, giving him a low snarl and a flash of his teeth.

“You’re barely good enough to touch, let alone fuck. Should be groveling at my feet to let me fuck you, I’m basically doing you a favor by letting you indulge in your sick fantasies”

The confident facade is hard to keep up as the blood rushes from omegas head down south as he tries not to scramble to be able to breathe. He fucking likes alphas hand around his throat like this, knows he’s hard and can only pray alpha can’t feel it rub against his thigh.

“Don’t know why I’d let such a disgusting fag anywhere meat me, knew you’d get attached like some stray dog” alpha lets go of his throat, hand shooting away from omegas skin like he’s too filthy to touch.

“Fitting you’d think of me as some bitch since you fuck me like one. Might as well just call me yours since you act like I’m just your whore to use.”

Alpha swings. Can’t help himself. His fist connects with omega square in the mouth sending omega back into the wall behind him.

Omega gives him a cruel smile with blood in his teeth wiping away the small dribble that ran down his chin.

“Because you like it. Admit it alpha, you’re no better than me”

Alpha feels cornered as omega walks towards him, he’s not like him, not a weird freak, nothing like the filthy thing that omega is.

“I know you get hard just thinking about me, know you love using my mouth otherwise you wouldn’t come back. Admit how much you love using my pussy” omega corrals him into the corners looking him up and down like he’s stalking him. Alphas red in the face, breathing heavy from anger. He spits as a last ditch attempt to get omega away from him. His words bore deep into his brain, echos through his head about how much he enjoys fucking omega even if he insists he doesn’t.

“Come on, tell me how much you want it. Sure you’re getting hard already aren’t you?”

Alpha doesn’t move, doesn’t tell omega to fuck off, doesn’t say no. Just stares at him with a grimace like he’s willing to take whatever omegas going to give him.

“You could leave at anytime, tells us something doesn’t it?” Omega taunts. Alpha crosses his arms in front of him, eyes lowering at omegas form trying to see what his angle is. The blood shines on omegas teeth in the moonlight, adding a malicious glint to his stature.

“Thought I could give you a taste of your own medicine, if you’re apparent so much better than me you won’t even like it, won’t do anything to you to have my cock in your ass”

“Absolutely not”

“Why? Think you’ll like it just as much as I will?”

Alpha grimaces at omega admitting out loud that he enjoys this, wants him. Sometimes twists in his stomach that he truly can’t make out as dread or arousal. The idea of getting off has him still glued in his place, even if omega was a degenerate, alpha still got something out this whole ordeal that he was willing to put up with in order to get his dick wet.

“Fucking- just do it already” alpha finally relents. He looks away from omega and presses himself to the wall, staring at the gravel beneath him. He takes a deep breath, waiting for omegas hands to be on him.

“Oh absolutely not, you gotta tell me you want it” omega growls low in his ear. Alpha can smell the blood on his breath, can picture the way his mouth looks covered in crimson right by his neck.

“I want it” alpha grits. “Just do it already before I change my mind”

Omega smiles and places a hand in his hip, giving him another second to decide to run or not. Alpha stays in place, and if omega didn’t know him like he did he could’ve swore he was leaning into the touch.

He partially wants to go fast, wants to treat alpha like he treated him, but a horrible part of omega wants to savor it, go slow and make him actually enjoy it.

The wall is rough and tears at alphas callused hands as he tries to almost grip it for leverage. Omega tugs at his waistband, shoving his pants down in the back of the alleyway, only adding to the shame and embarrassment he knows he’s feeling. He reaches around to the front to of him to finally grab at his cock that is rapidly fattening in his hand.

“Already enjoying this? Thought it would take more than that” omega chuckles.

A hand slowly runs over his thigh, feeling him up like he has all the time in the world. One hand stroking him lazily just to really get alpha hard, the other groping at his ass. Alpha lets out a breathy curse when omega runs his thumb over the head of his cock, milking a drop of precum from the tip.

“Can you do something already?” Alpha mutters. One arm is thrown over his eyes as he leans on it against the wall, hips pushing back into omega as he continues to stroke his thigh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, promise I’ll make you feel good”

Alpha tries not to let omegas soft tone go to his head. The soft and slow nature of his touching and breathy small praises has his head spinning. It’s as slow as possible, much to the detriment of alpha who hoped he would go too fast for him to enjoy himself.

Omega spreads him open, thumbing at his hole before spitting into his hand as a mock form of lube. Alpha looks behind him and almost collapses further into the wall when he sees the saliva and blood from his mouth mixing on his fingers.

[duckieduccss]

NEW KAIJU OC?!?!

Well, yea technically. Basically i was interested in figuring out how id go with making my own kaiju. At first i wasnt sure where to go for designing one. So i chose to base it off another existing kaiju for inspiration. I kinda wanted to go for a dragon type kaiju (i like dragons) and the only thing i could think of was Ghidorah so i went with that (now that i think about it more, I could’ve maybe used Manda too prob but oh well, Ghidorah was still a good option). I added some different details to mine that make it unique to the og Ghidorah

My idea was that it could potentially be a relative to Ghidorah (being of the same species) but still far apart from one another to the point they arent all that aware of the other existing (theyre in for a shock when & if they do encounter each other lol). This version actually relies on cosmic energy derived from such sources like stars & generally anything that produce some form of energy within the vast universe (basing it off how Ghidorah themselves originally came from space & this variant being much more dependent on that factor). It stores that energy & relatively stays in a dormant stage for an extended period of time until when faced with the challenge to defend itself or fight off those it deems as a danger. Then it would release all that ginormous amount of space energy that manifests itself as a rapidly expanding glow of extremely bright light. Enough to cause extreme damage & bring down the opposition. It can gather energy by using special crystals it can grow (took that also as inspiration but from Space Godzilla) & become as some form of attracting & absorbing the energy. In a way, the energy is like its main source of food & energy to maintain itself (right after releasing a lot of it during its final attack of using that glow, it would be put in a highly vulnerable state if not recovered by regaining some energy back soon enough). For the most part, they mostly sleep (being lazy 24/7 just like me fr lmao) to keep all that energy but can be potentially dangerous if disturbed or provoked in some manner

(Here’s a better closer look at their faces. Realized the canvas’ too big to properly see each of them-)

The name of this kaiju you may be wondering???

It’s Ryudorah

(Yea i know im the most creative person out there. I combined another nickname i use for myself and just added the end part of Ghidorah’s name to make it clear it’s related to the other kaiju. I couldn’t think of anything else im sorry😭)

And also each head has its own individual name:

Do, Re & Mi

(Named after intervals in the musical scale (ex: Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do)

Did i mention this kaiju can also technically sing too :)

I did have a lot of fun with coming up with the concept for them (tho it honestly took longer in designing them due to a busy schedule ive been put in as of late & finding the time to finish it) but im glad to finally be able to share this with you all. Hopefully I can share more about them soon (i have a whole google doc’s worth of lore lmao) & probably draw them again (tho maybe a lot more simplified by then). Didn’t wanna overwhelm ppl with the huge amount of info so I’ll prob slowly reveal more over time.

[Another thing too is that i still am new to the fandom (tho with more knowledge from getting to learn more from the source material) & most of this i gathered from already know stuff i knew. Tho im also open to feedback & maybe some ideas to add onto my own kaiju. So id very much appreciate it if there’s any suggestions from you guys ^^⭐️]

(I’ll only be taking constructive criticism btw. Anything hateful will obv be ignored)

[gyuusauce]

Stray Kids - Leader In Trouble

Pairing: Lee!Bang Chan X Lers!Hyunjin, Jisung, & Felix

TW: use of a feather, bangchan is tied to a chair, the members being teasy lil shits lmao

“HEY, WHAT’S THE BIG IDEA?!” The leader yelled as he glared at the three band members all smirking and giggling at him. Felix, Hyunjin, and Jisung all made a plan to tie Bang Chan to his work chair and teach him a lesson. Chan grumbled and tried to break free from the ties, but he just wouldn’t budge. “Good luck trying to escape!” Jisung teased. “You need to be taught a little lesson for procrastinating so much and not doing the work you’re supposed to!” Felix chimed in, chuckling at the bound leader. “I WILL KILL YOU GUYS ONCE I GET OUT OF HERE!!” Chan shouted. He was clearly annoyed but curious as what they meant by “being taught a lesson”

Hyunjin walked closer to the leader and crouched down to his legs. “What’s on your mind?” Chan asked, looking at his bandmate. The other boy ignored his leader’s question and lifted his ankle with one hand. Chan watched in confusion as Hyunjin started untying the shoelaces to his boot. His confused face quickly turned to one of horror as the dancer proceeded to remove his boot and sock. Felix joined and did the same to Chan’s other foot. It didn’t take Chan long to figure out the little plan his mates had in mind. “Hey wait now…let’s talk about this guys!” Chan said, nervousness in his voice. “Sorry Channie, this is what happens when you don’t do your work!” Jisung teased.

Hyunjin put Chan’s ankles in a headlock and motioned for Felix to come sit near him. Jisung walked behind the chair Chan was tied in, ready to attack at his desired time. “G-Guys!! Please wait, let’s talk abou-AAAHAHAHAHA!!!” The leader was quickly cut off as he suddenly felt fingers scribbling across both of his bare feet. “Kitchy kitchy koo~” Felix teased as he tortured Chan’s ticklish soles. “GUHUHUYS THIS IS SO EMBAHAHAHARASSIHIHING!!” he yelled through his loud laughter. This only caused the three ticklers to giggle. “Ahh come on, you know you secretly love this!” Hyunjin said in a teasing tone. Felix quickly pulled out the feather he had hidden in his pocket and ran in between each of Chan’s toes. “OHOHOHO NOHOHOHO NOT THAHAHAT!!” the leader screamed. His toes were a weak spot and all the members knew it.

Hyunjin joined in, using his single finger to scratch and scribble under and over Chan’s toes. “Aww, does Channie got ticklish toesies?” he cooed. Chan’s face grew bright red as he continued to laugh his heart out. The duo continued to tickle his toes and soles for a few more minutes then stopped. Hyunjin and Felix let Chan’s feet go then quickly stood on either side of the chair with Jisung behind it. “Guys plehehease i’m sorry!!” Jisung chuckled “Too late to say that now, Chan! we’re already having our fun” with that, he pulled up the leader’s shirt, exposing his midriff. Felix crouched down and used his little feather to trace over and around Chan’s abs. “Nahahahaha!! Felihihihix, cut that out!!” he chortled. “Hmmm..nah..” The freckled boy responded, now swirling the feather in the Aussie’s navel. “NOT THEHEHEHERE!!” Chan squealed, trying to wiggle free from the ticklish torment. Felix dropped the feather to start tickling Chan’s stomach with his hands. The two other dancers quickly hopped in, Hyunjin squeezing at his sides and Jisung poking at his ribs.

Chan was in absolute stitches and laughed hysterically, his face now red and his cheeks stained with tears. Although he was being intensely tickled and teased, he couldn’t deny that he was secretly loving this form of punishment. “Wow. our leader is quite ticklish!” Hyunjin exclaimed. Jisung slipped his hands under Chan’s arms to tickle at his pits while Felix wiggled a finger in his bellybutton. Chan threw his head back and screamed “OKAHAHAHAY OKAY GUYS STAHAHAHAHAP, ITS TOO MUHUHUCH!!” The three dancers decided to finally let up and give their poor leader a break and soon untied him. Chan still sat in the chair trying to catch his breath, face still beer red. “Oh my god….that…was…actually kinda fun…” Chan smiled softly. As embarrassing as it sounded, he couldn’t deny the tickle torture session was a blast. “We knew you loved it, Channie!” Jisung teased, pinching the leader’s cheek.

Jisung, Felix, and Hyunjin had their fun with Chan but made sure not to just leave him after the tickling. The three of them all gave their beloved leader plenty of aftercare. “I hope you guys know that I’ll be getting revenge soon” Chan smirked. The three boys just laughed at his comment. They all knew they were eventually going to get tickled as revenge at one point but they didn’t care. Tickle sessions at the dorm were always tons of fun.

[kattythingz]

EDGREED BABY 👀👀👀👀

-👑🐢

Ohoho, you have excellent taste, turtley-boo! Very well, I shall indulge you... (Chen you already know what this one is lmao)

SO, "EDGREED BABY" is a part of my Hades au, specifically about Ed's backstory when he was first cursed by Dante and how Greed and co. found him in the aftermath. They take him in without question, naturally, and thus spend the next number of decades rehabilitating Ed to restore his human form. He's not even a fury at this point; he's barely a century old. He is, however, physically in his twenties... so you can see how edgreed comes in.

I kinda dropped the idea, but I've got it all planned out in a barrage of back-and-forth screaming with @sirchenchen, so I'm pretty sure I'll revisit it eventually. (I hope.)

As for a snippet...

“Is it just me,” Bido whispered close-by, “or does that giant monster sound a little scared?” “What? That thing, scared? Don’t be—” “I hear it too,” Roa said, cutting Dol’s contrarian act short. Dol said something to protest that, but Greed had already tuned out the bickering in favor of squinting at the beast again. It was still giant, and golden, and its scales still looked sharp enough to cut Martel in half where she was approaching it with open arms—but Bido was usually right about his emotional intuitions too. Maybe the beast was running from something. A nasty run-in with Fengbao, maybe, or Envy even. But… none of those sat right with Greed’s gut. No, there was something else about this snake. Something familiar. Something— Golden. Greed’s eyes blew wide. “Goldilocks?!” Too late, the snake spun its massive head toward Greed’s revealed form, narrowing bright, gold-coin eyes—and, shit, there was definitely no forgetting that glare. “Holy shit,” Greed said, ignoring Ed’s increased shrieking at him as his startled feet pulled him forward. “It is you. What the fuck, how did this—?” “Uhhh, Greed!”

Aaaand that's all you're getting <3

[ofmermaidstories]

hi merms, i hope you’re doing great. i’m sorry if this is different from your usual asks but i wanted to ask you, since you are literally blog goals, but how can i be more like you and enjoy my own blog? i love how you’re so free in your own space and express yourself, and you’re just full of happiness and all the bright, good things. going to your blog always makes me smile. its like you spread joy and warmth so easily. is it weird i feel more at home with your blog 😭 i wish i could enjoy my blog too, but sometimes drama makes the experience un-fun, like mean anons, or worse, your own readers constantly putting you in weird competition with your own writer friends over things you and your friends never even noticed before. i know the easy answer is to just ignore the haters and enjoy writing, and i really love writing, but its hard sometimes. i wish i could make my blog feel as homey as yours. visiting your page is like comin home to fresh hot chocolate after a long day of work 💐 thats all luv, sending you lots of love always 🌸

oh anon. i’m sorry. 🥺 i am sitting with you and we will piece this out together though, okay? 🧩 it’s hard! i’ve actually been feeling kind of dejected, lately, like with tumblr in general and my usage of it—because i haven’t been using it like i used to! so i guess that’s the first thing: to figure out what you want out of it, and then figure out what it takes to make it happen. for me i enjoy this place most when i’m treating it like a scrapbook: quotes or pictures that inspire me, asks, things i doodle. the pros of that: you fill your space with stuff you love, or that means something to you! the cons: it can be a little isolating if the stuff you love, or the things that mean something to you, aren’t like… current writing or posting trends, lmao. but it all just depends on what you value! 🥺 i’m not a fast writer, and tend to favour long-term projects, so while it sometimes makes me sad when i fall out of the loop of things, ultimately i just accept (or try to) that that’s how i work in this space. 🥹 as mama cass said, sometimes you just gotta make your own kinda music.

drama makes everything boring! and tbh i think my biggest cheat with that is that i only follow a relatively small amount of x reader blogs. 🥹 that’s not intentional; i curate a pretty strict feed based on my other interests, though, so there ends up being a lot of competition for my attention. 🥺 the pros of this is that i tend to miss most discourse that happens (lmao). the con is that i tend to miss everything else, too, though. 🥹 you basically have to choose whichever bothers you less lmfaooo. and even then—drama or meanness or plain old weirdness will still find it’s way to you. 🥺 i think that’s just the unforch reality of being on social media. especially in a niche that’s so… driven by something as personal as literally self-inserting, and dependant on the validation of others. 🥺 i’m sorry people have made you feel like you’re in competition with your friends! it sucks, because i think we as writers like… live in our own heads, lmao. we know so much about the worlds and characters we’re trying to write. but people outside of our heads don’t—think the same way! 🥺 they will draw comparisons where maybe we don’t want them to. 🥺 i think that’s a natural response, tbh; especially if they love something, and see work with like, a similar theme or tropes, but despite it being a compliment it doesn’t always feel great. 🥹 i guess the only advice (and reminder, for myself) i can offer is that you and your friends aren’t in competition—but rather thrown into the same maze together. 🥺 the only way out is to hold hands to make sure none of you get lost, and walk through. 🥹

anon!!! 🥺 i hope you find a way to make your blog feel more homely. you’re always welcome here—the door’s always open for the sunlight and the bees—but i want you to feel like the important part of the neighbourhood you are! 🥺 and safe enough that you can leave your door open, too. 🪟🎐🌾

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

WIP Wednesday

I mean to do these more often than I do but Wednesday is usually my busiest day of the week because its the day I actually have to do a work commute longer than the 10 feet from my bed to my desk XD

Anyway, when the year started I wanted to have the angsty aroace!Mario fic written for Valentine's Day/AroSpec Awareness Week but then I looked at what I had left to write for it and how much time I had and there was no way I was finishing it within that deadline, lmao. So I put it down and decided to work on some other WIPs instead; I have some outlines and ideas from late 2020/early 2021 that I can knock out real quick, with how much my writing skills have progressed. And it would be nice to actually put a tangible dent in my WIP pile for once. I already wrote two of them, and luckily I have a different aro!Mario WIP half-outlined that I can definitely write and finish in time for ASAW so I think I'm going to focus on that, now. It's not much to do with Mario being aro itself (aside from Peach being mad about amatonormativity for a bit, ha); it'll probably mostly be, like, platonic cuddling and junk. But it'll be nice to get another entry in the aro!Mario series after so long…It's really hard to get ideas for new fics for it :(

This also means I have to pause the WIP I was actively in the middle of working on, which was a late-2020 idea about Kamek accidentally shrinking himself and Mario deciding to mind him. Because I don't know if I'm looking in the wrong places or something, but its really hard to find fics where people are shrunken that aren't, like, Borrowers fusions or a vore thing. Which, no shade to either of those, but they aren't the vibe I'm after, haha. But I suspect the shared change in perspective and helpless vulnerability and having to trust someone who could just crush you if they wanted etc etc etc is still fueling it all regardless :)

So anyway here's some of the tiny!Kamek fic because I won't be working on it for a hot minute —

“Either that spell I’d cast was more powerful than I’d realized,” Kamek slowly said, “Or I somehow managed to shrink myself, instead.”

“...”

“I’d shrunk myself, didn't I.”

Mario’s mustache curled up in amusement. Kamek ground his teeth and fumed. Of all the stupid mistakes to make...!

Despite his magic reserves being low, Kamek reached into his sleeve for his wand; whether to put himself back to normal or knock the amusement off Mario’s face, he couldn't say. Either way, his hand came out empty. And it did so the second time Kamek rummaged in in his sleeve, and the third, and the fourth, and the — 

Absolutely not panicking, Kamek dove back into the tree hollow to overturn every dead leaf and stick pile and moss clump in search of his wand. He didn't find it, of course, and he spared a moment or two to just stand there, head in hands. With how today was going, he’d probably dropped it just after miscasting that spell. On the very dim bright side, though, at least he knew why his broom wasn't working; those enchantments weren't designed to play nice with these sort of shrinking spells. Kamek sighed. Curse Lord Bowser and his incessant, almost impossible demands...

Kamek lifted his head to find Mario peering through the opening of the tree hollow, watching him with a furrowed brow, considering Kamek’s misfortune. He backed up to allow Kamek to leave, and once Kamek stood upright, he extended a hand to him.

“I don't need your help,” Kamek snapped. Ignoring Mario’s hand, he turned on his heel, marched a few steps, tripped over a protruding bit of exposed bark, and lost his balance. His next step was on empty air, at a height borderline unsurvivable, with little but a broken broom to break his fall.

So he fell. And he hit the ground. Sooner than he’d expected, considering. Kamek unscrewed his eyes and found the surface he’d landed on was whiter than he’d expected, as well. And then it moved, and Kamek lost the little balance he’d been barely holding on to. Mario’s worried face filled Kamek’s vision, and he realized that he wasn't dead because Mario had caught him.

“...I suppose I should thank you,” Kamek eventually said, with no intention of thanking Mario. Mario huffed, but still watched him, lips pursed in thought. He was being quieter than usual, and that combined with the sudden awareness of just how vulnerable he was —  many fractions his size, unable to cast any spells, sitting on his archenemy’s palms high in the air — had Kamek swallowing nervously.

“You can put me down, now,” Kamek hesitantly said, because Mario was a good guy, and he would do that. For sure. Hopefully.

Except Mario didn't. Instead, he transferred Kamek to one hand, opened the front pocket of his overalls with the other, and dumped Kamek in there as if he was some common — 

Kamek struggled to right himself in the small, mostly enclosed space. “Wh — You —!” he sputtered. “How dare you — !”

Mario chuckled at Kamek’s indignation. The vibrations of it rumbled through Kamek's body, and the whole ‘you’re very tiny and powerless and more-or-less at your archenemy’s mercies right now’ dilemma screeched back to the forefront of Kamek’s mind. So he shut his mouth with a clack, thinking better of poking his head out of the pocket to give Mario a piece of his mind. Through the meager opening above him he saw Mario give him one last look before starting to move; with the way the world shifted probably meant he was at a brisk walk, down the forest path to who-knew-where.

Kamek sighed, making himself comfortable the best he could given the circumstances. Well... at least Mario wasn't likely to let Kamek get accosted by wildlife again. And besides, all Kamek had to do was wait until he could scrounge up enough magic to cast spells again; though he was still without his wand, he’d still be free to ditch Mario and make his own way back to the base for his spare wand and broom. And then he could make Mario pay for this indignity ten-fold.

[volivolition]

hello we return to ramble about music because music is one of our biggest hyperfixations ever. hai [Do let us know if you're ever tired of us sharing music though Shauaiakdjcjsjdfj]

Do you have a favourite song? A favourite band or musician? PLEASE do share if so, we're always looking for new music especially from friends!!

We have!!! song reccs for you :] Song for the Dead and Song for the Deaf, both by Queens of the Stone Age! Both songs are very red to us [we have synesthesia] and they remind us collectively of Phys Instrument and I!

-PT

HAI HELLO!! my music friends the furies!! (hjfkjh dont worry, i love hearing from you!! :D <33)

2. ooh, thank you PT, i was just listening to Song for the Dead on the subway the other day, it sounded so cool!! i assumed it was a Physique vibe, but so cool to hear who exactly :D im listening to Song for the Deaf now, just really good guitar for both of these songs, the words are sung more lyrical in this one :0 the ending is amusing, just silence and then laughing to the instrumental hdkjh <3 extremely red vibes, you're so right for this <3 thank you for sharing the PT and Fizzy songs :D <33

1. oh god i have to put this under a cut. tl;dr: my current favorite song is Too Sweet by Hozier because it reminds me of Voli and Chemi :]!!

hgkjh did you know my bio used to say "i can relate any hozier song to disco elysium"? the statement is hyperbole, but i love hozier so fuckin much heres just a bunch of nonsense:

"Too Sweet" is a volistry song. to me. ("I take my whiskey neat~" "My coffee black and my bed at three...") echem thinks voli's too uptight ("You keep telling me to live right / to go to bed before the daylight... / but then you wake up for the sunrise... / don't you just want to wake up... / lost in a haze?") and voli thinks echem is too hedonistic ("If you're drunk on life-" "Babe, I think it's great~" "But while in this world... / I aim low / I aim true and the ground's where I go / I work late where I'm free from the phone / And the job gets done / But you worry some, I know.") and in this way they're "too sweet (morally/indulgently)" for each other, but they fall in love around the "You know, you're bright as the morning, soft as the rain" "Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape" mark because they start to balance each other out so they're not overworking/refusing all joy and not giving in to every temptation/dangerously ignoring health and responsibility for dopamine and they're GOOD FOR EACH OTHER... im. not normal about them ever i could write essays about them :'] (also the bells in the chorus just hit different i love that shit man...)

i've been meaning to draw Echem with the song "Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene" just for the title alone lmao... but it's absolutely a bop and i enjoy it :]

"Jackie and Wilson" is TRULY LIKE. IS ANYONE SEEING THIS. "Cut clean from the dream at night / let my mind reset / Looking up from a cigarette and he's already left" "He'll know me crazy, soothe me daily, better yet, he wouldn't care / We'll steal his Lexus / be detectives / ride 'round picking up clues" IS ANYONE ELSE HEARING THIS THAT'S FUCKING HARRY AND KIM. HELLO??

my other alternate bio used to read "From Eden is such a de song. if you even care" i need everyone to listen to this and tell me its not a disco elysium song ogughgjkh!!! "Honey, you're familiar / Like my mirror years ago" "Innocence died screaming" "A rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree" HOZIER MY MAN YOU DID IT BUDDY THAT'S THE GAME!!!

i can perfectly imagine which skill is singing which line to harry in "Almost (Sweet Music)" as he gets over dora and falls in love with kim. imagine them smoking on the balcony together while the skills swirl around them, invisible to kim but nudging harry and each other.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - Let's get lost and let the good times roll! SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] - Let's smoke rings from this paper, doll~ SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] - Blow sweet and thick 'til every thought of it don't mean a thing. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Medium: Success] - I got some color back. EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He thinks so too... INLAND EMPIRE [Formidable: Success] - I laugh like me again... She laughs like you. RHETORIC [Legendary: Failure] - I wouldn't know where to start... PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] - Sweet music playing in the dark. VOLITION [Godly: Success] - *Be still*, my foolish heart- COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] - Don't ruin this on me...

"First Time" is harry and dora ("the first time that you kissed me / i drank dry the river lethe" YOU MEAN THE GREEK RIVER THAT MAKES YOU FORGET EVERYTHING HOZIER???), "Eat Your Young" is truly a Disco Elysium vibe song of political ideology, do i even have to mention "Take Me to Church" for the idolization of Dora? and "Like Real People Do" [just straight up starts sobbing on the floor.] when the... the two people with similarly sad pasts learn to grow and heal together... we should just kiss like real people do... fucking hell man...

i also like!! AJR (current fave: Inertia [waltz time my adored]), The Oh Hellos (Hieroglyphs [the beat! the melody! the lyrics! singing together! ough my love... i miss choir]), The Altogether (See The Day [makes me cry. volition song i think]), American Authors (Luck [longtime favorite]), and Ricky Montgomery (currently it's Cabo but god this man's got bops. This December. Line Without a Hook. Get Used to It. Snow [<- desaturated blue song]. My Heart is Buried in Venice. okay thats it i promise hdkjh)

[mysticstarlightduck]

WAIT IGNORE MY LAST ASK I PUT THE WRONG QUESTION LMAO

HERE IS THE REAL WBW (i accidentally did a blorbo one LOL)

anyway happy worldbuilding wednesday! what are some fashion trend(s) in your world(s)?

Happy (Late) Worldbuilding Wednesday! Thank you so much for the Ask, @cabbojage!

What are some fashion trends (s) in your world(s)?

Oooh, I adore this topic!

In Agrannor, there are many different fashion trends which all vary depending on which culture they belong to!

For example, in Ergyre, gold and purple clothes are extremely popular among high-standing nobles looking to get in the good graces of the current Triarchy, by wearing the kingdom's colors. Nail polish, exaggerated makeup, and intricate masks are also beloved trends in Ergyre. The finest tailors/seamstresses, makeup artists, and hairdressers are always in high demand in this kingdom for this specific reason.

The inhabitants of Vellamere opt for practical yet intricately flowy clothes, perfect for both social gatherings and setting sail into the vast open sea. Silk dresses, as well as scarves and delicately woven headdresses, are incredibly popular. Vellamere is also known for its incredibly vibrant colorful clothes, painted with bright ink and intricate embroidery. Pearlescent seashell necklaces, as well as many different kinds of handmade artisanal jewelry, created from items usually found on and near the sea.

Etaruze and Farravia are known for long overcoats covered in colorful yet delicate brocades, ruffled cotton shirts, and embroidered leather ornaments. Makeup is welcomed and indulged in as a form of art and self-expression. Colors are strong and vibrant, but hold a sense of subtlety and nobility. Faravvia is much more vibrant than Etaruze, which favors more delicate and pastel tones. Both kingdoms are known for their strong use of makeup, nail polish, and bold hairstyles.

Nethilor's fashion trends are often reminiscent of aspects/symbolism of the seasons of Spring and Autumn, as this kingdom is by far the most connected to its flora. Vibrant dresses as green as summer leaves, purple gowns and suits like blossoms in early spring, wooden headdresses, and earthly-colored attires - this is what Nethilor is rather known for.

The Morosyn Empire values austerity, efficiency, and stoicism, but also boasts its power, wealth, and conquests. Their fashion sense is a mix of these values. While some of the more traditional nobles of the Imperial court choose to wear delicate/stern attires in the Imperial colors of marble white, gold, and silver, some of the more eclectic nobles import fashion traditions from Ergyre and Arkellya, wearing more vibrant colors, especially purple and dark blue, as well as statement pieces of headwear. In the Empire, makeup and nail polish are often kept more delicate and faint, using the Imperial colors to strike a sense of severity. Bolder colors of makeup are often reserved for courtesans and other entertainers.

The Kingdom of Midtaren values fashion trends that blend with the forests, looking as one with the forest. So their clothes often reflect colors often found in the woodlands, from green and brown for gowns and clothes to vibrant blues, delicate pinks, and opaque yellows for accessories. They value practicality and flexibility, liking clothes that look fancy but which allow them to swiftly move around the forest trees, where their city is nestled above. They like clothes that echo of the nature around them.

[disastrouslydared]

This is a little blurb of my personal OC, Marshall (Last Name Pending), that I decide to shitpost. This was made with a black!reader in mind but anyone can read. Enjoy.

Sleepless Nights and Bright Screens

It was 03:34am.

Marshall laid up on his bed with his hand behind his neck, the other draped on your waist as your murmured in an unclear fashion. His thumb rubbed at your skin while he peeled an eye open, his brown raising as the piercing white light of your screen greeted him.

“Why’re you up?” He muttered while his calloused hand went up to pinch your cheek, breathing deeply as you shrugged him away, staring into the low light of your phone as your thumbs swiftly typed.

“You know I have a hard time sleeping.” You rasped, typing away at your notes app as you blinked sleep away from your eyes. Your bonnet was slightly riding up your head as your eyes bored into the screen, tiny curls peeking out as Marshall rolled his eyes.

Kissing your cheekbone, he snatched the phone away from your hands, turning it off and putting it on his nightstand before he pulled the bonnet down over your eyes.

“Excuse you.” You grumbled as you looked up at him, your eyes narrowed as you fixed it back properly. Marshall ignored your complaints, placing his hand on your head. You felt your face get pushed onto his chest, left cheek smooshing onto the plush skin near his scars.

“Sleep. It’s late and you need to be up for school tomorrow… well, today..” He spoke softly and gently to you as he dragged his palm over your ear repeatedly, the sound bringing a wave of exhaustion crashing. You traced the scars under his pecs tenderly, your eyes drifting closed as your chest started to slow in its rising.

You listened to his heart beating strong and loudly, skipping a few times much to your concern but you decided to ask about that another time.

Right here, right now, it was time to relish in this tender moment. A moment you’d never experienced. Pure love and adoration came from Marshall as he soothed you, only stopping once you were in a deep sleep.

His hand clasped around yours before he allowed himself to rest, his heart beating at the same rhythm as your own. “Goodnight, love..”

I’ll be under the tag “#adreamerswritings” so it’s easier to read all my works! I’ll also put my asks/requests on in the (unlikely) event someone would like a custom fanfic written lmao.

Sleep well, mi amors~

[youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl]

let’s make fun of my writing together!

lmao just the first chapter of a story i started writing in 5th grade. ngl i actually tried on it and im thinking of just posting here so I can make fun of it with people

Bright lights filled my vision as I opened my eyes. I had no idea where I was. As I looked around, I could see strange machines surrounding me. Where was I? Where was my sister? All I remember was tackling my mother to the ground with a knife in my hand. I looked down at my hands and gasped. Blood covered them. It was thick and hot, although it was starting to crust over because it was drying. The curtains surrounding my bed were yanked open by a man in scrubs. My stare was icy cold as he walked toward me. 

“W-who are you?” I managed to croak out,”Where a-am I?”

He ignored me, and continued to walk my way. On his way over he grabbed a small metal object with spikes on each side. He flipped a switch and electricity cackled, ready to electrocute its victim. I don’t know how, or when, I started crying. It dripped down my face and eventually made its way to my chin. My heart pounded, and my body froze up. It was like someone had grabbed me by the shoulders and pinned me down to my bed. When he got to my bedside, he reached down. Sparks neared my bare flesh as I could feel myself heating up. The machine touched my skin, and everything went dark.  

~

~

~

~

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting and shivering. I guess it was just a nightmare, yet it felt so real. I could still remember the stinging pain in my arm, the doctor's cold hands gripping my bare wrist. I glanced at my small, homemade clock that stood in the corner of my room.  6:44. I glanced out my window and at the rising sun. Groaning in exhaustion, I pulled myself together and climbed out of my bed. I didn’t have school until 8:00 fortunately, which means I’ll have enough time to actually eat breakfast today. Sluggily, I moved downstairs and threw open the kitchen cabinets. I prepared myself a small plate of fresh raspberries and cereal, then made my way back to my bedroom and got dressed. 

Kingston Academy wasn’t normal, in fact, no one there was normal either. Luckily, we have no uniforms, or else everyone there would be dead by dawn. As I walked down the rickety path I could feel eyes burn holes on my back. I’m not exactly welcomed in town after what happened involving my mother. I was known as the psychopath of Otago. Fitting. Sometimes-when I would least expect it-I would stare at the countless rows of people lining the streets and imagine their deaths in imaginative and brutal ways. Snapping out of it, I ignored their stares and trudged on. I could see the three metal spokes peaking out above the tree line signaling I was nearing my destination. 

“You alright there mate? You caused quite a stir a few minutes ago, why don’t we walk together and you can explain why everyone watches you like you’re a madman, eh?” 

~ ~ ~ ~

~

His name was Oliver Wilson, 4 grades older than me. He was on the school soccer team. Popular, and most likely arrogant. What he wants from me? No idea! Honestly, the dude just doesn’t shut up, but he won’t tell me anything. 

“And I see you walking down the street and I’m li-” 

“Ok one, what do you want with me and two, if you don’t answer in five seconds you’re dead,” I deadpanned.

“Jesus christ! You sure are feisty,” he preached, staring down at me,”Honestly, I’m just curious why people seem to hate you so much. You seem nice enough.”

Nice? Really? I’m pretty sure no one I knew would call me “nice”, even if I were their friend. I looked up at him then noticed the time. I was late! Not that I cared, I skip school on a regular basis and no one seems to notice. I guess the case was different with ol’ Oliver here.

“Ugh, time really flies when I’m with an aggressive 14 year old girl. See ya, Dahlia!” he called as he raced down the dirt path. I chuckled for the first time in months and turned around, my desire to learn gone. 

The walk home felt longer than usual, more lonely. Marlene was supposed to call today, she had a falling out with her boyfriend, Patrick. The foul git. If I were there when it happened I would shove that fake blonde weave up his-. Well anyway, at least he’s gone. My sister would call me and explain all about the terrible things he did to her, and I would grow angrier by the second. My hands clenched into fists, and a flush rose to my cheeks. The same people I saw earlier watched me in fear, one teenage boy even shouting out,”Oh no everyone! Better watch out, the Psychopath of Otago is angry!” So he wants to see me mad? Bad idea buster. 

“Oi, shut it!” I announced, silencing his mocking tones. The crowd backed away as I walked toward the rebel. His eyes grew wide, and he started trembling. 

“Oh yeah?” he questioned,”Or what?”

My pupils darkened as he took a step forward. An inch, another inch, until we were nose to nose. I studied him carefully. Round, shiny nose. Dark curly hair. He would’ve been attractive if he wasn’t so annoying. I made the first hit,  colliding my right hand to his defined nose. His head snapped back, and he groaned in pain. We both stepped away and circled each other. I studied his movements carefully. His left hand was at the ready, signaling  he was a lefty. His nose was gushing blood, and the skin around it was flushed red. 

“Come on then, you asked for this, so come and get it,” I taunted, light on my feet. That must’ve erupted some type of fire in him, because when I was least expecting it, he rammed into my stomach. My body struggled for a gasp of air as his muscular arms encircled me. I managed to fight my way out of his iron grip and hook my foot around his ankle. Flipping him over, I grabbed the pocket knife I always kept on me. I leaned to the side of his head to whisper in his ear as I held the knife to his throat.

“Next time, pick a fight with someone you can handle.”

[orangelemonsstuff]

yeah don't mind me i got inspired so...

(pls ignore my horrible writing i just got back to it lmao)

•••

"GUH!"

your sword clanged down far away from your reach, soon enough followed by you falling.

you were injured and bruised over yet the fight inside you wasn't damaged at all, you tried limping you could still keep goin-

"why are you so stubborn summoner?"

ah, that grating voice. your eyes rolled to the side to see his blurring figure only to come back looking at the starry sky, you can't lift your head to look at him properly not that you would or you want to, not after what he'd done to the towers and your friends

the voice of a traitor

your blood is starting to boil again, anger is the only emotion you could feel right now other than somewhat a betrayed feeling as you try to move but yet only managed to helplessly groan and limp in pain whilst still laying down, letting your wounds bleed down

you must've been deep in your thoughts on how you could get your sword back and maybe stab him or two that you didn't notice him already crouching on top of you while looking down into your glaring eyes.

"Ahaha honestly, you look good no matter what position you're in Summoner" that smirk of his is really getting to you, his hand carressed your cheek gently rather opposing how he treated you earlier with the clashing of your weapons, of course you impulsively turn your head away from his touch rather aggressively

this son of a-

"a shame we will never get to finish this dance for i don't want it to end since its you I'm dancing with Summoner." he could've thought you had said something like 'shut up'

if looks could kill he'd be deep under 6ft. right now by how furious your expression at him, maybe its your fatigue and pained look in you that's stopping the final blow to completely killing him.

i mean what can a lone Summoner with little to no magic like you do to the first mage of the Canis Major?

if only you would just side with him this time, maybe then you could nurture and cultivate the potential you had that hooked him to you in the first place.

only if you just gave up

and if you do give up now...

it's not too late at all

"Just give in dear Summoner, i promise if you join us now. i could show you a side you'd never dream of seeing" his offering is ominous yet tempting, but he knew that no matter what conditions you

you grumbled a pained no as you try to get up to shake him off only to be pushed down in the ground once where you laid stil your eyes not leaving his color shifting ones.

he drawed out his gun, as he wiggled it infront of you to catch your attention. you swore you could still see the gunpowder smoking out of the opening of the gun as he points it at your temple, the cold metal of the opening touching your bare skin.

"Does this world don't matter to you anymore Sirius?" you ask him

he shifted his gun to the lock of your hair

"apparently, it doesn't. and it never did" he playfully twirled his gun in your hair, intertwining it for some small strands to be stuck in a narrow space before tugging it free you flinch in pain as he chuckled at your suffering

"my turn to ask" he fiddled with the hair strands that he plucked out of you as you gulp.

"why do you keep denying me Summoner? what would you get on dying for everyone?" Sirius's playfulness is long gone and his face is much serious so as how he delivered the question.

it took you a minute of breathing to calm yourself down, to ease the physical pain you are in. you focused staring at him on

if he wants a real answer on why you still kept fighting though hopelessly

"...to save them." Sirius was silent.

"i will sacrifice myself if it means to save everyone" you declared, not even looking away trying to intimidate him.

he bowed his head down breaking eye contact, he then laughed. rather disturbing than bright considering your situation right now

"then i will sacrifice everyone to save you if you intend in doing that." You shiver at his confirmation, fear finally coming back to your senses when you realized how dangerous Sirius can be.

he could be actually serious for fuck's sake, and you can't have that. you can't have your friends dying on you.

Sirius pulled your stiff body up at his level, his nose inhaling your scent making you shiver.

"so pick my dearest, Summoner." he whispered, his breath touched your ear same way how his gun held your life a moment ago

"me or everyone?"

•••

(this was better in my head i swear)

Listen to my pep talk..

I'm not the only one who thought about them of this 'quote', right?

"I will sacrifice myself to save everyone."

"I will sacrifice anyone to save you."

[chososheart]

Spider-Man: In Your Home (1)

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x F! Reader

Content: SPIDER-MAN AU!, established relationship, SPIDER-MAN! EREN, GWEN! READER, college au.

Summary: Eren Jaeger, also known as spider-man (shhh, it's a secret ;), comes knocking on your window hoping for you to heal the wounds he got while fighting a huge lizard man :))

CW: NSFW, suggestive themes (idk if what i wrote counts as smut lol), ANGST (Y'ALL, I WROTE ANGST!!), FLUFF, descriptive mentions of bodily injuries: wounds, big cuts, blood, bruises, a burn injury (its slightly mentioned dw). medical procedures: (needles, stitches, medication), mature language, eren is a foine mixture of Andrew's Pete and normal ereh :))

Word Count: 4.8k

see masterlist | navigation | read previous chapter | read next chapter

Okay, but imagine Eren Jaeger as The Amazing Spiderman. Imagine being his Gwen, the girl who he’s head over heels for and who he always searches for when he’s in trouble; when he gets badly injured and it’s too much for him… I think we all have that glorious scene of Andrew Garfield in mind—but, what if it was Eren?

It was late at night, you’re not sure what time it is or how late it is, but your false perception of time doesn’t affect your vision. The sky’s been cloudy and dark for a while now.

You’ve had your nose buried in books all day. You’re a smart girl with a great future ahead of her (lmao). People have great expectations for who you’ll be, what you’ll do, how you’ll live. Meeting not only their expectations but yours is what keeps your teary, tired eyes, scanning over the tedious texts in your notebook. It’s what keeps your trembly, sore hands, writing the most important parts of said texts in your notebook. And you were on a stride, getting a lot more work done than you had intended–when you hear a thud, something like thump-thump-thump-thump.

What?

You drop your pencil and turn your head halfway-

Stop. No distractions.

“Right.” You look at the books on your table again and sigh. You pick your pencil back up when you hear it again, but louder.

It’s coming from your window.

You hurriedly stand, head tilted and face twisted with worry. And with a few long steps across your room, your face drops. Your features relax as you let a deep exhale out.

Fucking jerk.

He knows you’re supposed to be studying and he knows his life would be cut short if your father saw him, so, what the fuck is he doing outside your window? Plus, he’s in his fucking bug costume.

What if someone sees him?

You’re ready to send him back home when you open your window with one quick and harsh pull, up. Except, he falls headfirst into your room before you can say anything.

“Agh-” Eren’s eyes were already semi shut before he fell, they fluttered open every time he felt himself go unconscious while he waited for you to open your window, but now they were tightly shut as the rest of his face scrunched from the sharp pain he felt on the shoulder he landed on.

“Oh, my god! Eren?” You rush to aid him. When you fall on your knees, you’re reminded of the hardwood floor you own. Ouch. You ignore the scrapes and bruises forming on your knees and grab his face in your hands.

“Eren!” You whisper-shout, voice filled with gravity and desperation.

You move his body, which was heavy as a million bricks, into your lap. You give his face a few slaps; not hard enough to pain him but to make him react. Like how vets do when a newborn animal won’t respond.

“Ah- fuck.” Eren moved his face away from you and squinted his eyes after getting hit with, what felt like, a million bright lights burning his eyeballs.

You straighten your body and relax, a sigh leaving through your trembling lips along with all your worries.

“Eren.” You blink away the sting forming on your nose and eyes—a tail tale sign you were about to cry. “Don’t ever do that again.” It came out shaky; like you’d been crying for hours, though you haven’t. You press your lips together, feeling like a sob might scape as well. You’re frustrated you let your emotions show.

But Eren doesn’t think of your emotions, of you, like a disturbance. He snapped his head at you the second he heard that first waver in your voice. Through the squint of his eyes, he tried to study you, your face. He has worried you—pained you, even. He feels that stinging sensation in his heart. He has hurt you.

“It’s nothing serious.” His voice was deeper than usual, raspy, too. His voice cords suffered, with every word he spoke, every breath he took. You can tell from the harsh swallow he took after finishing his sentence.

“Eren, I thought-”

“Shh. I just need a little help. That’s all.” He said the last part with a grunt as he forced himself off your lap and sat across from you.

“Eren, I-” You think about arguing some more. You know he’s trying to make it seem like he’s only gotten a few scratches; you aren’t foolish enough to believe him. But you also know your boyfriend, his personality and mannerisms. He’s stubborn as a rock and won’t admit to being wrong. He also won’t ever ask for help unless he deeply needs it. Fuck, it’s bad, isn’t it?

“Eren.” You take a deep breath. Though you know his conditions, it’ll hurt to see. “How bad is it?”

He looked at you—at the lamp behind you. He can never look you in the eyes when he lies. After you once called him out on how pink his ears flush when he lies, he hasn’t done it as confidently since.

“Few scratches, I already told you.” When his voice stilled he instantly caught your eyes in his.

You give him a few disapproving seconds, blinking at him with a straight face. And when you saw that he wouldn’t give in, you studied his body, how he sat, any clues of pain or discomfort in his face. And…

Bingo.

His back was slouched and his chest tucked back, almost as if it was a natural, don’t touch me here, it hurts, response.

So what do you do? Of course, you touch him there.

You poke his chest with your pointer finger. Eren’s shoulders came fighting back at your attack. Both slinging forward—to hide his chest from you—so quickly you would have missed it with a blink. But no amount of blinks would’ve hidden the sharp hiss that escaped his lips.

With his hand on his chest, he looked at you again, eyes still stubborn, but his face, laced with a dash of cooperativeness. “Maybe it’s more than a scratch.” He looked at the floor.

You won.

You roll your eyes, no shit. “On my bed. Now.”

You walk to your door and when you look back, he’s limping and holding the wall for support on his way to your bed. Fuck, it’s worse than I thought.

You turn back around and exit through your door. “Mom!” You lean against the staircase handle and yell.

“Yes, honey?” Your dad yells back.

Fuck, not him.

“Dad, can you get mom?”

“What for?” You heard him reach the bottom of the stairs.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Female problems! All that gross stuff. Get her.”

You can’t see him, but you can mentally envision the face he’s making. Probably a scrunch of his nose, along with his unnecessarily huge eyebrows completely covering his small eyes. His typical face when he’s even just a bit uncomfortable.

“She’s in the kitchen, honey. Come downstairs.”

You rush down the stairs, a creaking sound, shot in the air with each step. When you enter the kitchen you lean against your marbled counter, arms crossed in front of you and supporting your weight.

“Mom, do you know where the first aid kit is?”

Your mom stops the stirring of her beloved golden soup spoon and turns her head to the side, not to look at you, but for you to see her face’s profile. “I heard you tell your father it was for ‘female problems’.”

Of course, she heard.

“Yeah, um, I just need some cotton, I ran out.”

She places her spoon on top of the uncovered pot to keep the liquids in it from going overboard, a life hack she saw on Facebook, and she turned and leaned on the other side of the counter you leaned on. Her eyes analyzed you, looking at your face for any clues of disbelief in your statement. ‘If you won’t believe your statement, how can she?’ Is another obnoxiously untrue life hack she learned on Facebook. Phycology 101, those Facebook moms will call it. They—she will use it the most unnecessary of times. It’s ridiculous.

With a final squint of her eyes, she makes up her mind, you aren’t lying. “Under the bathroom counter.” You open your mouth to ask which one, “Upstairs,” she says.

She turns around and lowers the heat on the stove. She takes the spoon again and, “Ouch!” She yelled after touching the burning spoon.

While you exited the kitchen, hurriedly going to the bathroom, you squeeze your lips into a tight line, trying not to laugh at her.

Facebook moms, they’re hilarious, really. They teach you how to make your life ‘easier’ without keeping anything else in mind. Like, how different materials in certain objects can affect the life hack they’re teaching. Metal is the best heat transmitter, but God forbid you to try to ‘outsmart’ her.

You giggle your way up the stairs and grab what you need in the hallway bathroom. When you enter your room again, you turn around and lock the door.

You look at the ground for a bit before turning around, and when you do, with a cheeky smile, you say, “You’ll never believe what happened with my m-” You gasp. “Eren!” You rush to him and drop the first aid kit on your bed.

It looked like he originally was sitting at the edge of your bed, but fell, due to his unconscious state. He now laid like he took the best nap of his life. Which, by itself, isn’t worrying, but context, people. He was almost dead when he, quite literally, crashed into your room. You can’t afford him going unconscious when you aren’t sure how to hurt he is.

You get on top of your bed by placing one knee in the spot in between his legs, and the other on the free space on your bed. “Eren!” You whisper as loudly as your thin walls allow you to. You slap him again, and again, and again, until…

“What the fuck are you doing?” He grabbed onto your forearm and squinted his eyes. His suit felt weird against your skin, it was prickly, but it tickled.

You sit down—which, because of the position you were in—you straddle his thigh. You didn’t give it much thought, you didn’t even notice it until he opened his mouth.

“Damn, take me out to dinner first.” He placed his forearm under his head while giving you that usual grin, the one that made your breathing heavy and knees weak—but you’d rather die than ever let him know.

“Shut up.” You reach for the first aid kit that lay discarded on your bed.

“No, no. I know one better. Make sure I’m fully alive first.” He filled the room with his heavy, and loud laughter.

You wack him in the arm. “Eren, be quiet. They’re gonna fucking hear you.”

But he couldn’t stop laughing, he thinks he’s so funny. You roll your eyes and let your head drop, your laughter soon enough joins his. And he makes sure to make fun of you for it.

Until a sudden twitch of his chest brings you back down to earth, he’s injured. “Okay, Eren, sit up.” You get off his thigh and stand in front of him.

When he sits up, he’s hesitant about taking his suit off.

“I promise I’m not gonna get pissed. I’m here to help.”

He looks at you for a few seconds longer. He doesn’t believe you. He slowly peels off his suit and hisses with every tug of the material that’s drenched in blood.

Oh, my God.

“Eren, I-” You stretch out your arm to touch him but instantly change your mind and retreat.

“How- what did they- what happened?” It sure was a sight to see. Eren’s chest was filled with cuts and bruises—what if he has a broken rib?—three specific cuts run diagonally across his chest. Like three lines. You feel like crying. That sour sting is building up in your nose again, but you don’t think you can fight back your tears this time. You turn around and remain with your back to him while you desperately wiped every tear you weren’t strong enough to hold back.

Shit. He feels like shit. Why does he keep doing this shit to you? Why does he keep getting himself in near-death situations only to drag himself to your room and watch you break down every time. It’s worse each time, too. Next time he knocks on your window—no. There might not be a next time if he keeps this up. This recklessnesses; this fire in him to not give up, that he just can’t seem to turn off. Not even the tears you’ve shed can seem to do the trick. When am I gonna stop?

He knows the answer and you do too.

“It’s- it’s not even-”

“If you dare say it’s not even that bad I’m gonna throw you out the window you came from.” You snap at him. Voice wavering but the determination behind each word is still there.

You wipe your last set of tears, that’s enough, and turn again to look at him. And you can see it. His heart, exploding into a million pieces. Putting him in greater pain than he was at before.

You step toward him with a straight face. Still sniffing every now and then. You open the first aid kit and take out the oxygenated water and cotton pads.

“If it's infected, it’ll hurt.”

“That’s okay.” He took a deep breath and squeezed his hands into fists, clawing his flesh in the process.

You tilt your head to get a better look at him. You dip the oxygenated water in the cotton, and softly start petting it into his skin.

Eren's mouth remained tightened but a sharp hiss managed to escape. He shut his eyes and refused to pain your heart any longer. This isn’t even the worst part.

Parts of the wettened cotton remained in his skin, in his cuts. the sight was enough to make your hands tremble and spine tingle.

But it was done. This part, at least. You disinfected the area and now there was only one thing left to do.

“Eren, I have to-”

“Stitch it?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do.”

You look at him. His green eyes twinkle with the soft lighting of your room. You’ve never stitched a human before, only clothing. I assume it’s the same thing, right? Okay, not the same thing. But, the same technique, right?

“Take a deep breath for me,” you say, but you’re not sure who it was aimed for.

He takes a deep breath. It hurt. It felt dry against his throat and it stung his nose. His chest filled to its capability and ached. When he flattened his chest, you made your move.

Sliding the black thread through the hole of the needle. With hands as shaky as yours, it was a challenge. The thread felt different than your regular sewing thread. It resembled thin plastic. It’ll hurt, that’s for sure.

You place your palm on his chest, on top of his left pectoral. The thumping on your fingertips had you confused, as you didn’t know if it was yours or his. You swallow hard. Swallow every worry that’s clouding your mind at the moment. A shaky doctor is the last thing he needs. You move your face closer to him. By squinting your glossed eyes, you could see exactly where the cut began.

You take a moment to look at Eren in the eyes. It was warm, his face, his look. He’s completely at your mercy but his warm gaze reassures any what if I fuck this up and make it worse? out of your mind.

“Hey,” he spoke. His voice, rough and low.

“Hey,” you whisper back. Your faces were aligned with each other’s, your body’s conjoined like a puzzle; your leg in between his and his hands holding the back of your thighs, so lightly, it’s easy to miss.

“I’ll be okay. You got this, okay?”

You’re both embarrassed and heart-struck at his encouraging words. He's comforting you as if your life was in his hands and not the other way around.

“Mkay.” You smile at him, your breath fanning his cheek and making his heart tight against his chest.

You clean the needle and pass it through the two split sections of his skin. You did it quick, the faster, the fewer chills crawled down your back.

“Fuck,” he breathed. His hands held your thighs tightly now.

“I’m sorry.” You inspect his face for any signs of regret.

Eren shook his head and closed his eyes. “Keep going.”

You suck in a quick, dry breath and continue. You pull on the needle and pass the thread through his flesh. The sound was enough to put you in agony. Your hands were shaky and your shoulders tight. But you continue. You have to.

You begin again, about a centimeter lower than your last stitch, and repeat the movement. Your fifth time passing the needle thought his skin, and you’ve got the handle of it now. You steadily, but quickly, continue the movement, ignoring how his nails dig into your skin. You prefer it. The pain helps you focus, in a weird masochistic way.

You pull on the needle once you finished with the first cut. You pulled on it to tighten the work you’ve done but when you do, Eren’s forehead falls directly on your chest. You can feel his eyelashes flutter, warm tears spring out and fall against your skin.

“I’m finished with this cut, Eren,” you say.

He remains quiet. You’d allow him to stay in this position forever but you can’t see your work and you have to tie it.

“Eren. I need to make the knot. Okay?”

Without a word, he moves and allows you access again. You quickly tie the knot and cut the thread.

You start with the cut in the middle. You slide the needle in, and Eren grips your thighs with twice the amount of strength as before. His nails dug temporary holes in your skin. It hurt. But you’d be dammed if you didn’t find him incredibly attractive. You hate yourself, you really do. But you can’t help the feeling that travels through you every time he holds you tighter, closer. It’s this feeling that feels empty but you know it’s there. It traveled through your organs, your skin, your bones. Like if you were dropping down on the highest roller coaster in the world. It made your breathing hard to carry. You struggled to breathe, but Eren was worse. He inhaled heavy breaths and full exhales. He groaned and cursed every time you prickled him with the needle.

“Eren, please stop. I need to focus,” you whispered. So light, so softly. It felt as sweet as a siren’s melody. Your voice lured him in and kept him trapped, unable to process what you had just said. But one look at your pained face and his hands suddenly felt like bricks. The heaviness quickly made him stop.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed.

You shake your head. You didn’t mind the firmness of his hold. But your thoughts were getting in the way. Eren is the sweetest partner you’ve had. He’s soft and gentle with you. Only ever praises you. He makes love to you. But you’ve always wondered what it would be like if he treated you roughly? You know he wants to, you’ve seen it in his face as he’s buried deep inside you. You’ve seen how he scans over your body under him with a sly smirk—before he hides it away and tells you how good you’re taking him. You’ve had him grip your skin too tightly at times. You’ve had him manhandle you, which you very much liked, but he always took those gestures back. He always compensated by treating you as gently as he could after. Treating you like glass. So when he grabs you in the way he just did, it makes your heart go crazy.

But you recognize now isn’t the time for this. You swallow all your wants away and take a final deep breath. You finish your work, tie it with a knot and move on to the final cut.

You repeat everything you’ve done before. You slide the needle in, slide it out and repeat. You felt Eren’s thighs twitch and slam against you every time you pulled on the string. But one quick look of reassurance from him had you moving in no time. Slide the needle in, slide it out and repeat. Slide the needle in, slide it out and repeat. Slide the needle in, slide it out and repeat. And just like that, you were done. You slide the needle in one last time and tie the knot.

Eren drops his head in your chest. You can’t imagine the amount of pain he’s in. But the heaviness on your heart may come close to it. You close your eyes and just feel him. Feel his touch, his presence, his warmness. You hate yourself, your mind for even thinking about it, but you know this feeling, this comfort, may not last forever. He knows it too.

You slide your hands through his hair but notice the knotted mess his hair tie is stuck in. You, little by little, tug and separate every knot until you get the tie out. Eren kept his nose buried in your chest the whole time. Hiding every hiss or heavy breath with your skin. He stayed like that for a long time, he always does. He breathes you in and feels at peace, at home. Nothing can take away the state of mind he enters when he feels your scent and warmness surround him. So when you grip on the sides of his face and force him to look up at you, his eyes are different. It’s as if the battle he just escaped from, the stitches you had to sew, didn’t happen. He looks happy, relaxed, so beautiful. His eyes, submissive, and his lips slightly parted, allowing a few breaths of his to hit your skin.

“You have a cut,’ you whisper, your voice light but with the slightest rasp.

“Where?” he whispers in the same tone, except his was heavier and pleasing to the ear. His voice grumbled in a way that makes the average woman roll her eyes to the back of her head and knees buckle. But again, you’d never admit to that.

“Right,” you slide your thumb down his bottom lip, “here.” his lips were tainted a deep red from the blood and bruises on it. Again, you hate yourself for this, but he looks incredibly hot.

“Why don’t you heal that for me too?” he said. Though your eyes focused on his eyes, you can audibly hear the cockiness, the smirk that came with that remark. But you do it anyway.

You lower your head towards him. Breathing heavily and desperately. Showing clear signs of arousal and anxiousness. Eren’s hands are quick to follow your league. One holding your lower back and the other cupping your face. You approach his face slowly, his eyes making it impossible for you to move, but you do. You angle your head to the right as he angles his to the left. Both breaths are so heavy you can almost hear moans in their undertones. You both stared into each others’ eyes, completely lost in them. You’d only lose eye contact to glance at his lips. You feel chills almost electrifying your whole body from their intensiveness. You still can’t understand how someone can make you feel as flustered as this. Your cheeks are itchy and hot, neck and breathing tight, and when you’re about to reach his mouth, you bump against his nose. You give Eren a surprised look before laughing the awkwardness away with him and joining your lips with his.

A metallic taste. That’s what you could mainly feel. But you don’t mind it at all. You breathe him in, desperate and needing, and swallow him whole. Sliding your tongue against his and crashing your teeth with his every time he pulled you closer by the neck.

“Mhm,” you moan against his mouth and staddle him.

You dip your hands in his hair. Its course, messy and hard to slide through; when you’d tried, you accidentally pulled on it. Eren groaned and bucked his hips against yours. You were parted on top of him, feeling every movement through his skin-tight suit, so, when he responded like this, you felt all of it. You release a broken moan against his lips. He releases your lips with a quick bite and covers your mouth with his hand. He continued to swirl and buck his hips into yours.

“What are you- what are you doing?” you mumble against his hand.

He continues his rocking movement, letting go of your mouth and guiding your hips back and forth on him. You could feel him getting bigger and harder. You’re not sure you’ll be able to contain your moans if he keeps going.

“What do you mean?” he breathed.

“Eren,” you place your hands on his shoulders and look at him, “we can’t.”

Eren squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back. “Why not?” he whined.

“I just—” You feel him poke you, hard and prominent. His suit’s fabric was not made for boners. “I don't think we should do this—” You’re interrupted by an involuntary moan of yours. You can’t even think straight. “Eren, you’re injured. We can’t.” You rest your forehead on his shoulder and close your eyes. It's incredibly hard to say no to him when you can feel him in all the right places. You can feel it applying pressure on your clit in the right ways and the friction had your head spinning. This is so unfair.

Eren stilled his movement and kissed the top of your head. “I’m fine. I promise.” He gave your waist a small squeeze to encourage you to move but you’ll feel too guilty if you allow this to continue any further.

You look at him. “Eren, trust me. I want it so bad.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “But think about your condition. You were half dead when you fell in my room. You’re still recovering. Let’s not abuse the little energy you have right now.”

The look on his face doesn’t budge. In his head, it doesn’t make sense you’re not having sex with him for him, since he can’t think of anything but having sex with you. But your pleading eyes hushed his thoughts.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay.” He leans in and kisses your forehead. His lips, rough and warm. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“Thank you.” You breathe and grab his face again. You lay a quick peck against his lips and peel yourself off his lap. Your lower body feels damp and overheated but Eren’s case is even worse. His cock throbs in pain and his balls hurt. It feels like it’ll explode at any moment now. He can’t fully believe how little you have to do to rile him up so much.

He gets up and hugs you from behind. “Thank you, baby.”

His cock pocked your ass.

“Fuck,” he whispered. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling you in and leaving kisses that made you feel as light and high as a cloud. He held onto your waist tightly while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You scratched his head while holding back moans, hiding them with your heavy breaths. When he let go of you, his cock brushed against your hips. You shut your eyes and bite the tiny whimper you felt bubble up in your throat away.

You turn and face him. “I’ll see you next week, Eren.”

“Tomorrow,” he says.

You frown and cross your arms. “I have to study. No distractions.”

“I’m a distraction?”

“Yes.”

“When’s the exam?” He moved toward your window, opening it.

“In three days.”

“Cool.” He looks at the piles of books on your desk and quickly extends his arm. He shoots his web at the biggest book he could spot and jumps on the outer rail of your window. He holds on to the wall outside. “I’ll just borrow this and give it back tomorrow, yeah?”

Your eyes widen, how in the fuck did he do that so quickly?

“N-”

He laughed. “Glad you’re cool with it. Love you, babe. See you tomorrow.” He jumped from your window and threw his web against a building.

You run toward your window and look up at the sky.

“Maybe we can continue where we left off!” he screamed as he swung from building to building, slowly disappearing from your vision.

Your head falls against your glassed window. You laugh as you shake your head. “I love you too.”

CHOSOSCUMSLUTT 2022 © All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, modify, or repost.

-

AHHHH I CAN FINALLY POST THIS YAYYYY. hope you guys enjoy this as much as i do <33

chap 2 will be fun hehe

tag list: @the-princess-button @too-phased @cutelilfrogge @westandontwe @histarean @todorokishoe21

if your name is pink i couldn’t tag you :(

(if you want to get added to my tag list, check this post)

[meowzfordayz]

somebody else pt 1

Author’s Note: angst. A lot of angst. All angst.

somebody else pt 1

Hashira x Reader, Tokito Muichiro x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~1,200

CW: implied cheating, mild sexual content

Song Inspo: Somebody Else by The 1975

Suggestion Fulfilled: This idea has been doing backflips in my head for a while now

So like After reading about how they loose interest in you, i was thinking About if they fell in-love with someone else and doesn’t know how to tell you or something like that👀👀👀??!?!!?!?( its just a suggestion ofc lmao😭🫶🏽).

i hate reading angst and stuff but i would pay 200000$ if someone wrote that.😼🫰🏾

Anyway, you better have a good day or im kicking a hole in ur wall lol/j ( this is also my first time suggesting something to 💀💀)

somebody else pt 2

~faqs~

So I heard you found somebody else…

… Zenitsu hates himself. Truly. Completely. He doesn’t understand how he could do this to you. Doesn’t understand how he could steal kisses before dawn; fleeting touches in crowded rooms; a heart that isn’t yours. But he does. And your oblivious smile cuts deeper every time — so tender, so adoring, and so unaware of the lightness in your own chest. So unaware that just as he’s stolen someone else’s heart, so too have they stolen his from you.

… Inosuke doesn’t realize it’s happened until it’s too late. Until it’s too late to coax you back into his dreams. Too late to replace their smile in his head with yours. To miss the reassurance of your hands; your laughter; your scent. Because it’s all them now. All them and none you. “I love you,” you murmur happily. “I love you,” he whispers, the color of their eyes flashing through his heart.

… Gyomei tells you, “I’ve found somebody else,” when he knows you’re asleep. When he knows he can’t hurt you. When he knows he can’t leave you. When he knows you can’t leave him. Which is selfish. He’s all too aware of that. But. He wants to devote himself to both of you. Wants to give them his whole heart — you already have it anyway. He just. Can’t. Can’t ignore the simple fact that: he only has one heart, and it’s slowly, surely, inevitably slipping from your grasp.

… Obanai holds his breath. Exhales deeply. Kneads at his shoulders. Closes, opens, and closes his eyes. Futile preparation to confess. Admit. Break your heart. Futile because your voice still softens him. Because your touch still soothes him. Your gaze still knows him. “What’s on your mind?” you ask gently. Nothing. He shakes his head slightly, stare bright, fingers intertwining with yours. Absolutely nothing. “I love somebody else.” Is what he should say. “I love you.” Is what comes out.

… Tanjirou knows you know. And he also knows you’re too afraid—too heartbroken—to ask. To clarify. To let go. And for once, he takes advantage. Because he knows he can’t lie. Knows he can’t protect you from. Well. From himself. “Are we okay?” you mumble. “We’re okay,” he nods, familiar grin easing your pain. Because you weren’t specific enough. Pointed enough. Direct enough. Because you are okay. You’re wonderful. And when he’s with you? He’s okay. Wonderful, even. But when he’s with them? He’s on top of the world.

… Mitsuri cries a lot. A lot, a lot. A concerning amount. But she waves off your concerns. I don’t deserve you. Stepsides your questions. I don’t deserve you. Kisses your cheeks. I don’t deserve you. You know she’s keeping something to herself — why else would she cry so much? “Talk to me, Mitsuri. Please? Let me help,” catching her tears with your thumbs. What you don’t know is that something is someone. “There’s nothing we can’t fix together,” you whisper.

… Shinobu’s too precise. Too detail oriented. Too fixated on maintaining her illusion. Her facade. That everything is alright. That everything is just fine. That the sight of you still makes her heart flutter as brilliantly as the first time your paths crossed. That her name on the tip of your tongue still reddens her ears as deeply as the first time you uttered it. That your hugs from behind still stir a longing—a security—as intensely as the first time you touched her. But. You simply don’t compare. To how knowing they asked about her, “How is Shinobu doing?” makes her heart burst; to how hearing them politely greet her, “Pleasant running into you, Shinobu,” reddens her entire being; to how feeling them brush her shoulder, “Tonight?” stirs a desire—a promise—stronger than you ever could.

… for once, Kyojuro’s stumped. Honesty is his policy. Communication, first and foremost. Respect. But whenever he approaches the subject, you change it. “Can we talk?” I’m sleepy, Kyo. “I have something to tell you.” Me too! May I go first? “This is important.” More important than my daily reminder that I love you? He isn’t sure if you’re suspicious — if you’re avoiding the subject. Or if he’s just paranoid. Regardless, he can’t bring himself to blurt, “I would like to see somebody else,” because that would be… disrespectful. Horrific. He has to approach the subject ~perfectly. Or not at all. So he waits.  He doesn’t cheat, of course. At least not physically. He just… drifts. . Further, further, f u r t h e r. Away. 

… Sanemi’s aghast. He swore to hell and heaven you were the one, and now there’s another the one ????? Just as he was getting the hang of loving you; of being loved by you. Just as he started feeling safe sleeping beside you; feeling comfortable holding your hand; feeling excited by the thought of seeing you again — of seeing you as soon as possible. Just as he swore. He stumbled upon the one. Guilt drips heavily from his eyelashes; his nose; his fingertips. Because he knows. Knows that you taught him how to love, how to trust, how to come undone. But all your time, all your effort, all your adoration and affection? Destined to belong to somebody else. His heart? Destined to belong to them.

… Giyuu wishes things were different. Wishes he wasn’t so intrigued by them. Wasn’t so enraptured, endeared, enticed. Wasn’t so weak. Wishes he wasn’t betraying your trust. Wasn’t unraveling your intimacy, softness, devotion. Wasn’t losing himself to them. But he is weak. And he is losing. “Do you love me?” he asks, tracing light circles across your ribcage. “I love you,” you smile fondly. Silence. “I love you,” you repeat. He swallows. Still tracing. Still wishing. “I love you too.”

… Tengen initially assumes he’s going through a down. After all, love has its ups and downs, and if he’s planning on forever with you, then surely there’s bound to be plenty of downs? But he can’t forget about them. Can’t forget the curve of their smile, the warmth of their voice, the thrill in their eyes. “I’m just here for a drink, nothing more, nothing less,” he mumbles to himself, surveying the bar. Definitely not waiting. Definitely not hoping. “It was a chance encounter. A coincidence,” he mutters. Definitely not inhaling sharply—eagerly—when they walk through the door. Definitely not wincing—heart collapsing—when you follow. You, chatting with them. Waving excitedly when you spot him. “Tengen?” giggling, “Great minds think alike!” because What are the odds that we end up at the same bar? Because he’d told you he was busy tonight. And you’d told him you were busy too. “Meet my new friend!” you gesture happily, “They just started at my job.” They grin easily, holding out their hand, “We’ve met,” clearly unaffected, “Tengen, was it? Your partner’s the sweetest,” nudging you cutely, clearly uninterested in—oblivious to—his unrequited infatuation.

[1up-girl]

(This was something that was inspired by the "One Last Look" prompt for Zelink Week. At the end of the day, I just didn't follow through with it, and I don't have much else to do with it at this point...but I'll leave it here. Shhh please ignore all of the errors and things that never saw any real editing cause I gave up lmao

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“I hate you.”

Zelda's voice is thin and devastatingly cold when she murmurs the affront, her lips hardly accommodating the biting string of vowels and consonants so that Link’s ear misses the thought entirely; but he’s sensible enough to know what sort of malice she’s attempting to impale him with. It isn't a new revelation--he's known her heart for months. What he doesn’t realize is that it's the last time she'll ever look upon him as though he’s a curse.

His princess dives back through the arched entrance to Gerudo Town, its flanking guards eyeing the miserable interaction with raised brows as a dry desert breeze tumbles through hoisted, fiery hair, and Link is left alone under their condescending glances. He never brings himself to acknowledge them--can’t bear to catch the mock sympathy in the smug expression they share-and only turns away to carve out a spot against the terracotta of Gerudo Town’s western wall.

He can wait. He’s fine with waiting. After all, he does is wait; waits patiently for a hint of her gratitude. Waits for her to understand that, contrary to belief she clings so tightly to, she isn’t truly alone in her plight. Waits for her powers to decide that they actually, in fact, do want to save them all. But then guilt nips at his heels and has regret eating away at his insides like the malignant sting of a poisonous berry. He groans to himself. 

It’s hot. 

Bright blue fabric snags against pockmarked stone as Link slides his back down the height of the wall and sinks defeatedly into sand.

It is hot. 

Perspiration beads the crown of his head and he squints out across the vast Gerudo Desert, half admiring the way light bends against the slope of a distant dune and causes it to sparkle. With an instinctive lick of his lips, Link tips his head back against the wall and stifles a weathered yawn in the town’s shade. 

It’s going to be a long wait.

. . . . . . .

“Voe! ”

The panicked call rings in his ears as the fading afternoon turns a blood red. He jolts up, head snapping to find a guard looming above, scimitar glinting at her hip and her eyes wild. 

“The Princess has gone!”

Link feels like he might as well be free falling.

“She was spotted heading East.”

An amalgam of sentiments congregates in his throat; it’s irritation, pity, absolute terror all wrapped into one, and it sends fire pulsing through his veins to propel him from the ground, the soles of his boots already weakly pressing into sand in a futile attempt to vault him forward.

“No –you need a sand seal. You will travel much faster.” 

When he appears at the rental corral, the presence of a guard at his side means that the animal comes free of charge, and Link is soon sliding across the dusted sea with a thudding heart locked squarely in his throat. 

He hopes he isn’t too late. 

. . . . . . .

So that’s it, then.

As royalty, Zelda has always known that the chances of her story ending with a knife at her throat or lodged into her back are much greater than those of farmhands or scholars or seamstresses. As the trenchent blade rises high above the Yiga’s head, she scrunches eyes shut, and in a fraction of an instant, a menagerie of thoughts presses against closed eyelids in rapid succession, taunting her with the lives she hasn't been given a chance to lead. No children, no husband. No grand achievements to bring propserity to her kingdom.  No lives saved through unearned strides in medicine or science. The only thing her people will remember her by is failure; the failure to save them, the failure to do something as simple as stay alive. Her mind wanders towards her loved ones—will they ever find her body after this?—and she finds herself thinking of Urbosa. Impa. Of her father, her father grieving her with guilty eyes. Her father punishing Link for her own error.

Link.

Fear fastens a sob firmly in her throat. How cruel she's been. Zelda closes her eyes and feels her muscles grow painfully taut as her body prepares for the unimaginable. 

And then, there is a sound that she mistakes for the Yiga’s conquering cry as the assassin's blade plunges through the air. But when the searing pain never comes, bewildered eyes fly open as a violent gasp tears itself from her.

No, it isn't a victory cry, she realizes: it’s a death knell. 

Her knight stands before her like a celestial vision, feet anchored steady beneath him while sandy locks flutter gently in the whispering wind. He doesn’t even acknowledge the corpse beside him; his eyes drive hard into the two remaining assassins that hesitate before him, both as equally disoriented as the quarry herself.

Shallow, fragmented breaths slip through trembling lips as Zelda tries to gather her bearings–but all she sees is him. Her Hero. 

The princess of Hyrule leaves the Gerudo Desert a changed woman.

[tomonari-nue]

Junpei Lives AU

i already warned Kiyoko about this but basically this is dedicated to my friend whom i bullied persuaded into watching JJK only to have them crying in my DMs when they found out Junpei was gone for good.

anyway, who else is bummed out that Junpei never got to learn alongside Yuuji and make friends at JJTech bc i sure am so My City Now

let’s assume that in a slightly more merciful world Junpei wasnt idle-transfigured to death and Yuuji basically hauled his ass away from Mahito

Nanami: Itadori-kun he did attack civilians Yuuji: yeah after being severely manipulated by an extremely fucked up cursed spirit! and being bullied relentlessly! and losing his only family! Nanami: his only family? Junpei: my dad isn’t in the picture Nanami, doing quick neck-breaking mental gymnastics about the possible logistics of unofficially adopting another teenage boy: I See.

technically, due to his age Junpei should be a year or two higher than Yuuji but given that he’s pretty much a newbie, he stays with the other first years

Yuuji wasnt allowed to accompany Junpei when he had his “exam” with Yaga and pretty much sat outside the room biting his nails

he doesnt hear Junpei’s declaration that he’ll never allow anyone to ever lay a hand on him ever again, that he wont let himself be manipulated any longer

Junpei moves into the empty dorm next to Megumi

(poor Megumi is thus subsequently stuck with hearing them giggle during their movie marathons in either room bc the walls are THIN and it doesnt matter who’s in who’s dorm bc its STILL NEXT TO HIM AND HE WANTS TO SLEEP THANK YOU VERY MUCH–)

Yuuji gets Junpei a lavalamp with floating jellyfish in it as a housewarming (dormwarming??) gift

initially Junpei was a little nervous meeting Yuuji’s other friends but he figures if they like Yuuji they wouldnt be that bad

wrong. he was terrified of both Megumi and Nobara.

Megumi: hello who is th– Nobara: WHO THE FUCK IS THIS HUH? WHO IS THIS STRANGER YUUJI? ANOTHER SWEATY TEENAGE BOY? WHY COULDNT YOU FIND ANOTHER GIRL DO YOU WANT ME TO DIE?

(its okay they became friends)

each of them coach Junpei regularly so he can keep up: Yuuji obviously takes over the hand-to-hand combat aspect

Junpei: no offence but i dont want to fight you Yuuji: oh its okay!! i have a high pain tolerance so dont worry about hitting me!! Junpei, who already got his ass kicked thoroughly by Yuuji before and knowing that this guy’s bicep is double the width of his own noodle arms: thats not what im worried about

Megumi, naturally, takes over coaching Junpei on all things shikigami – he’s very taken by Moon Dregs

Junpei: this is Moon Dregs, i didnt have her for very long but– Megumi: she’s beautiful, but can she fight? Junpei: she’s very poisonous Megumi: rad. anything else? Junpei: she. glows in the dark? Megumi: Megumi, under his breath: thats fucking sick as hell

Junpei isnt too sure what Nobara can coach him on considering their fighting styles are very different

Nobara: dont worry im gonna punch a spine into you Junpei: ????????

Nobara becomes the most terrifying (yet oddly effective) life coach in order to teach Junpei to be a lot more confident – unfortunately that also means feeding into his hidden violent streak KJBSBJKDJBK–

Nobara: this guy slaps your ice cream cone to the ground Junpei: what a dick Nobara: EXACTLY! what do you do? Junpei: hit him with a brick Nobara: YES Yuuji: NO Megumi: depends on what flavour the ice cream was

despite him and Nobara having similar violence levels, Junpei does kind of try to be the peacemaker in the group even if he does overindulge Yuuji quite often lmao

he brings the WEIRDEST movies to movie night fridays and often argues with Nobara over what they should watch

he once ignored Yuuji for an entire evening bc the other voted against him and he was stuck watching Frozen with everyone

Yuuji: cmon Junpei, just let it– Junpei: finish that sentence and im eating all of the mozzarella sticks

nobody likes to play Uno against Junpei bc he turns absolutely ruthless

on the first few nights at JJTech Junpei, having turned a little insomniac, wandered into the kitchen late at night to find this gangly figure in the dark with bright blue glowing eyes

nobody had bothered to tell him that Gojo liked to sneak sugar cubes

Junpei screamed so loud Yuuji took his door off its hinges in frantic hurry and Megumi got a bloody nose bc he ran straight into a wall

of course, that was nothing compared to having a very cranky and very pissed off Nobara show up in bunny-patterned PJs and hello kitty eyemask clutching her hammer