#tastes so good but i am in pain lmao

[rainingincale]

Me: knows that dairy tends to go Right through me

Me: "its ok i can have a little kheer as a treat"

Me stomach rn: 😵‍💫😰🖕🔪

[bwabys-scenarios]

Sweet Sunday NSFW

Obanai x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: this is an AO3 request :3 gonna try to prioritize requests sent on AO3 since I plan on being more active there. This is short but sweet :) also I don’t know Obanai too well(it’s been forever since I read the manga) so sorry if he’s a little out of character… or if this just sucks. LMAO

warnings: pussy eating, very soft and sweet sex, Obanai worships your body, breeding, mostly nsfw, fluffy

You never did quite like waking up early in the morning, and thankfully your boyfriend didn’t either. Even when he was supposed to be off fighting demons, Obanai hated getting up before 10 am.

So that’s why on his day off, the two of you stayed curled up together the entire morning, sharing kisses and soft words of love. It had taken him so long to open up to you, and now that he had, it was almost like he was making up for lost time.

“You’re just radiant…” he purred, brushing back your hair from your sleepy face. “My love, my angel… my everything.”

It was enough to get your cheeks feeling hot to the touch, your heart beating out of your chest. “And you’re so handsome it makes me nervous…”

Although Obanai still struggled to accept compliments, he knew you would never lie to him. His own pale cheeks flushed pink as he looked away. The bandages that usually covered his mouth lay on the nightstand by your shared bed.

You traced the scars on the corners of his mouth, your eyes full of love and adoration. He could have never thought that anyone would look at his mmm in such a way, especially without his bandages to cover up his biggest insecurity.

“You’re too kind, my love. Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream, that I’ll wake up back in my childhood home.”

You paused, your heart twisting in pain. Obanai often suffered from nightmares, waking up screaming and clutching onto you for dear life. It left him trembling, tears pouring down his cheeks as he struggled to soothe himself.

But how he didn’t have to face it alone, he had you.

“You’re safe now, Obanai. You never have to hide away when you’re with me…”

His eyes softened, and he couldn’t help but pull you close. You smelled so sweet, like sunshine and vanilla, with hints of something sweet he couldn’t quite place. Whenever he inhaled your scent, he knew that he was right where he needed to be.

Home.

It didn’t help that your scent also stimulated other feelings… other desires… before he knew it his hands hand wondered along your hips and to your thighs, lightly pushing them open. “O-Obanai…”

You whined softly as his nimble fingers danced across your closed cunt, stopping right above your clit. He pressed down, causing you to squirm lightly as he began rubbing gentle circles into it. “Shh, princess. Let me make you feel good.”

If Obanai was anything, he was devoted to you body and soul. Every little sound and movement you made was enough to get his pants tight and his body ready to please you.

He slid off your soaked panties, giving your pussy a soft kiss. “Gorgeous, taste so sweet, princess…”

Eating you out was one of his favorite activities, and he enjoyed pinching your pretty nipples as he did. Obanai loved to overstimulate you until you were pushing his head away, begging for his cock instead.

But this morning, he decided to let you off with only three orgasms with his tongue. “Okay, okay…”

He lined up his hips with yours, peppering your neck in kisses. “Do you want me?”

“Y-yes please!”

No hesitation, just pure desire for him. It felt good to be wanted, to be so desperately desired by you.

And so Obanai complied, snapping his hips forward to plunge his cock into you, groaning at the feeling if your tight cunt. Despite him not being huge, you always needed a moment to adjust, and he was more than fine with your pretty pussy cockwarming him as you got used to his cock.

“There you go…” he said, moving his hips at a slow and steady pace as your arousal pooled on the bedsheets below. “That’s my girl… that’s my love.”

His fingertips dig into your plump hips as he fucked info you, his warm breath tickling your neck. Obanai wasn’t really the type to moan, but he started getting talkative when he was close.

“S-so good, my love. So fucking good for me…”

The two of you came together, and he didn’t bother to pull out. He planned on marrying you after all, and getting you pregnant was the goal. “G-gonna… gonna knock you up, okay? My love, my beautiful wife, so pretty for me…”

The two of you laid together, your naked bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat of you snuggled. Soon, you’d have to leave the comfort of your bed to bathe and eat something to replenish your strength…

But for now, you’d need to comfort your lover. He always got a bit shy after sex, embarrassed of the things he said while pussy drunk. You didn’t mind though… you wanted to be his wife after all.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer. 

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles. 

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart. 

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

:D

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

[animamii]

Hit Different | Eren Jaeger 𝜗𝜚 part deux

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Eren meets his match when Ymir's cousin crashes into his life. Classic playboy meets maneater. ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

𖹭.ᐟ modern aot verse! college au!

.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・

The sun is a personal attack. Why the hell does it have to be so damn bright right now? You groan, burrowing deeper into the mess of blankets, only to realize—you don’t remember getting into bed. Hell, you barely even remember leaving the party. Your head throbs in protest as you peel open your eyes, met with unfamiliar floral-patterned sheets and a very judgmental Ymir sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, scrolling through her phone.

“Look who’s finally up,” she monotonously spews, not even glancing at you, just tap, tapping away at her phone. “Thought I was gonna have to throw water on you.”

You blink, sluggish, trying to piece together the events of last night. “Where am I?” Your voice is hoarse, like you swallowed an entire desert. You somehow still taste tequila on your tongue, with the little remnants of your pineapple juice chaser.

"Our guest room, dumb ass. Had to carry your ass in here when you passed out in our bed after I dragged your ass out of that party.” Ymir finally looks up, raising a sharp brow. “Speaking of—what the fuck was that with Eren?”

Your stomach does an annoying little flip, but you mask it with a slow stretch, feigning nonchalance. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

Ymir scoffs. “Oh, please. The sexual tension in that kitchen could’ve powered the whole damn party.” She looks at you with an obvious look on her face, as if to say, 'don't fuckin play in my face like I'm stupid and blind'. “Dude was looking at you like he wanted to either fuck you or fight you. Maybe both.”

You snort, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You notice your lashes were taken off, now on the dresser next to you. “Not my fault he’s got a staring problem.”

"Right. So you just happened to flirt with Jean all night while Eren practically set him on fire with his mind?"

Before you can answer, Historia walks in looking suspiciously awake for someone who was blackout drunk last night. She holds out a bottle of water and some aspirin like she does this every weekend. "You look like shit," she chirps.

"Good morning to you too," you mumble, snatching the water and chugging it.

“Did you check your phone yet?” Historia asks, perching on the bed beside you as she holds out the tiny pain killers. Taking them from her hand, you toss them into your mouth, swallowing quickly.

A slight sense of dread creeps in. “No? Why?”

Ymir smirks, flipping her phone screen toward you, showing a group chat notification. Connie added Eren to 'Brunch, Bitches'. You groan at the sight of the name, flopping back onto the pillows. Of course. Because why wouldn’t fate be a petty little shit?

Meanwhileeee— Eren wakes up to a headache and text from Connie like he does every Sunday morning.

Connie: Lmao, you tryna get brunch? Eren: Why the fuck would I do that? Connie: Bc ur little crushy crush is gonna be there 😉 Eren: Blocked Connie: Damn bro just pull up, it’ll be fun

Eren stares at his phone, jaw tight, remembering the way you looked at him last night—how you didn’t look at him until the very last second. His grip tightens on his phone. Fuck it.

Connie: Yo, brunch at that spot on 3rd? You guys down?

Ymir: I’m always down for food, babe. But don't tell me we're going to that weird place again with the mismatched plates.

Eren: 😑 It’s good. Stop being a snob.

Connie: I’ll pass on the weird plates place if you bring your cousin,, I still don’t have her number lol

Ymir: lmao what do you mean you don’t have her number?

Connie: Yeahhhh I haven't actually talked to her much,, she kinda makes me scared 😅

Eren: 🙄 You mean you're scared she’ll turn you down like the others?

Connie: Stfu says the one who threw a tantrum cuz she was flirting with Jean ✋🏽🤨

Eren: ... I'm bouta leave ts.

Connie: Yeah that's what I thought ho!

Ymir: ugh. you two stop being dramatic. I'll bring her if she's not too dead

Ymir added y/n to Brunch, Bitches

Connie: Sounds good to me. Jean can’t make it,, btw. He has work. Told him to leave his ass at the office 🙄

Eren: His loss. Those pancakes are gonna smack, I'm ready asl.

Ymir: same. you guys better be on time this time. 😒

Connie: No promises 🙈😜😚😚🦧

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"So we're all just showing up in pajamas huh?" Ymir stands in the doorway of the room, watching as you lazily curl your lashes, leaning against the headboard in their room.

"Yup," you answer, picking up your mascara and applying a coat. "Besides, this is a track suit. It's like multipurpose."

Ymir raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leans against the doorframe. “A track suit, huh? I mean, I guess it does have boujie y2k bitch written all over it...”

You smile, finishing the last stroke of mascara and setting the wand back in the tube with a twist. “Exactly. It's basically brunch attire and I could probably go for a run after if I felt like it. Double duty, extra fruity.”

She snorts, shaking her head as she pushes herself off the door frame. “Yeah, sure, but I’m pretty sure the only thing you’re running for today is the nearest mimosa.”

"And you're running into the nearest Hot Topic wearing that damn flannel and sweats." You playfully quip back, tossing the pillow on your lap at your cousin.

"Somebody say something about my flannel?" Historia's soft voice rings into the room as she steps out of the bathroom, hands busy tying her hair into a messy bun. Her eyes are wide and confused, making you smile at her naivety.

Your eyes dart down to the flannel pajama bottoms she wears. "Can you two get any gayer?? Matching flannel to brunch? Really?"

Ymir lets out a bellow, her hand resting on the back of Historia's neck as she kisses the top of her head, causing Historia's eyes to shut as she beams a content smile. "Mad cause we're in loooooveeee?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, lesbians. I'd be gay too if I had a choice," you roll your eyes sardonically as you stand up and slip your uggs on.

"Oh hell no, we don't need any evil femmes. Regina George is that cautionary tale. Stay being straight, the male population needs their repercussions."

You laugh, zipping your sweater up halfway. "I think the world is far better off with a few evil femmes, if I’m being honest. Less competition, more fun."

Ymir grins, lazily shoving her feet into her sneakers. "Exactly. You get it."

Historia chuckles softly from where she stands by the bathroom mirror, finishing up with her hair. "You look like you stepped out of a 2000's paparazzi photo."

You shoot her a dirty look but can’t suppress the childish smile that creeps onto your face. "Yeah, well, at least I’m not going out looking like a damn lumberjack." You point a finger between the two girls.

Ymir twirls around dramatically, causing the flannel to swish with her movement. "Heyyy, leave my lumberjack alone, you know she loves to climb trees."

"Gross, I don't wanna hear my cousin say nasty flirty shit with her girlfriend, Miri. Save your kinky lumberjack fantasy for the bedroom." You hold a hand up as you step out of the couple's room.

Ymir bursts out laughing, following you down the hallway, while Historia’s face flushes a soft pink. "You're the one who started it," Ymir teases, nudging you with her elbow.

You groan dramatically. "Yeah, well, I should’ve known better than to walk into this disaster of a relationship." Throwing yourself onto their couch, you mindlessly scroll through your phone. “Why does it always feel like I’m the third wheel?”

"Because you are our third wheel?" Ymir says like it's obvious, which it is really. "But it's okay we don't mind being a tricycle sometimes." Taking a seat at the other end of the couch, she props her feet up on your lap.

Historia follows behind Ymir, still trying to hide her smile. "We’re not that bad, are we?"

"You're like an over-the-top romcom couple," you retort, rolling your eyes playfully. "But like, one of those ones that you can’t fully hate because they’re just so damn cute."

Ymir, who’s still grinning, tosses a pillow at you. "Hey, we’re adorable, and you know it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You place the pillow under Ymir's feet, not wanting her beat up converse to dirty the gray cotton sweats you were wearing. You were going for low effort, not slob. "Just don’t bring your cheesy couple energy into brunch. I’m not in the mood to be the only one single at the table."

"Oh, please, you’ll be just fine," Historia says with a wink as she slides her crocs on. "And besides, who says you have to stay single? You’ve got options. Plenty really. If you actually stopped with these maneater shenanigans." She nudges you gently, giving you a look more serious than you'd like.

You scoff, locking your phone and tossing it aside, letting it bounce on the couch before it finds a snug spot by Ymir's leg. "Maneater shenanigans? Excuse me, I prefer to call it ‘strategic non-attachment.’ Sounds way more sophisticated." Your nose sticks up in the air in a playfully bratty way, lips forming into a pout.

Historia rolls her eyes as she zips up her sweater, the ziiiiip sound loud just to be extra dramatic. "Sounds like a fancy way to say ‘terrified of commitment.’"

Ymir hums in agreement, stretching her arms behind her head. "Right? Like, you’re out here collecting numbers like Pokémon cards, but let a dude actually like you, and suddenly, it’s ‘ew, feelings.’" She sticks her tongue out in fake disgust as she mocks your tone, making you roll your eyes.

You lazily point at her, feigning offense. "First of all, rude, I don't sound like that at all, cunt. Second of all, you know my philosophy; love is a scam, and I refuse to be a victim."

Historia snorts, grabbing her bag, the plethora of keychains clanging together and making an off-sound symphony of metal, letting anyone in a mile radius know that she picked it up. "Tell that to Eren, who was practically following you around at the party like a lost puppy."

"He’s a player, remember? He’s got a new flavor of the week by now, I’m sure." Your face stays neutral, but the way you grab your phone a little too quickly does not go unnoticed by the girls' sharp eyes. "Anyway," you say, standing up, "we should go before Connie loses his damn mind. He’s already sent, like, three where are you texts."

Ymir smirks, but doesn’t push the topic. "Fine, fine. Let’s roll out, Breakfast Club."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“Dude, you look like hell.”

Eren groans, standing in Connie’s kitchen, nursing a lukewarm fruit punch Gatorade like it's the last drop of hydration on earth. His hoodie is wrinkled, his hair a mess, and he still reeks faintly of last night’s Hennessy and bad decisions. He'd still be knocked out at home if he wasn't so abruptly woken up by said friend calling him a dozen times.

"Thanks," Eren mutters, feeling like his eye bags were physically weighing him down. "Exactly the kind of encouragement I needed. I shouldn't even be up this damn early."

"It’s literally noon," Connie says flatly, biting into his bagel, cream cheese spilling out of the sides. "And last night? You were gone, man. Like, barely forming sentences. You kept staring at y/n like you wanted to kidnap her ass and lock her in your basement."

Eren scoffs, taking a sip of his drink. "Was not."

"You so were," Connie says, pointing at him with his half-eaten bagel. "And let’s talk about that, actually. You’ve got that look in your eye—like she’s your next target."

Eren rolls his eyes, placing his hands on the counter to steady himself. "She’s not a target, dumbass. She’s just—" He pauses, searching for the words. "She just seems... interesting."

Connie snorts, finding the way Eren stares off into space a tad bit comical and so dramatic in a way only Eren can get away with. "So, what? You wanna wife her up now?"

Eren makes a face. "What? No. I haven’t even talked to her like that yet." He shakes his head as if he's trying to not imagine the thought of him actually, seriously pursuing you. "She’s just… different, y’know? It’s like a challenge."

Connie raises an eyebrow. "So, this is, what, a side quest for you?" Connie would never be one to admit it, but he was rooting for Eren to finally find love, and to finally stop being a damn fuckboy. He was tired of getting at girls only for them to tell him that they had their heart broken by his friend, Eren always leaving a mark on every single one of his hookup's hearts. He just wanted to meet one girl on campus that hadn't fucked Eren.

Eren smirks, leaning his elbows against the counter. "More like a boss level. She’s not like the usual girls. She’s got that whole I don’t give a fuck attitude, and you know I live for that shit." Eren always wanted things he couldn't have.

"So, let me get this straight," Connie says, licking some cream cheese off his thumb. "You’re telling me you spent all night trying to get her attention, and you still couldn’t bag a conversation with her?"

Eren clicks his tongue, looking annoyed and pouty. "It’s not that I couldn’t, it’s just—" He exhales sharply, that familiar frustration from last night coming back for a second. "She was talking to Jean all night. Didn't even glance at me. And then Historia got too drunk, and boom, she was gone before I even got the chance."

Connie bursts out laughing, finally someone was doing what Eren does to him, swooping in on the girl he wants. "Damn. She really curved you before you even got the chance to spit game?"

Eren glares, thick brows furrowing. "Shut up."

"Nah, man, this is hilarious," Connie wheezes. "Playboy Eren Jaeger finally meets a girl who doesn’t immediately fall into his lap? What’s next? Are you gonna start writing music about her?"

Eren rolls his eyes. "You’re so fucking annoying."

"Nah, you’re annoying," Connie shoots back. "’Cause I know you’re gonna spend all brunch trying to get her attention, and if you strike out again, I’m gonna have to sit there and witness the secondhand embarrassment."

Eren smirks, shaking his head. "Not happening."

"Mhmm. So what’s the plan, lover boy?" Connie asks, raising his eyebrows.

Eren grins, finishing his Gatorade and tossing the empty bottle into the trash. "Easy. I just gotta get her to talk to me. Once that happens? Game over."

Connie hums, finding Eren's words a bit deluded. "Man, I dunno. y/n’s like a you but hotter and meaner. You might be out of your league on this one."

Eren just chuckles, grabbing his keys. "There’s no such thing as out of my league, Connie."

Connie shakes his head, shoving the last of his bagel in his mouth. "Aight, bet. Let’s see how that works out for you."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Connie picked the perfect spot for a hungover brunch, with the diner being less than busy for a Suday afternoon. The last thing you needed was a packed restaurant full of clanking dishes and obnoxious conversations stabbing through your skull. The scent of coffee and syrup lingers in the air, making your tummy rumble since you hadn't eaten since before yesterday's party. The hostess barely looks up from her tablet when Ymir announces the reservation, tapping at the screen with the kind of dead eyed exhaustion that says she’s one wrong order away from walking out mid shift.

"Ugh, why is it so bright in here?" you groan, slipping your sunglasses onto your face as the three of you follow the hostess to your table. Your feet shuffle against the floor, still wishing you were wrapped up in the heavy duvet in Ymir and Historia's guest room.

"Because it’s daytime, dumbass," Ymir snickers, sliding into the booth with Historia next to her. With a sigh you plop yourself beside Historia, slumping against the plush backing of the booth as if it might absorb your exhaustion. The other side is left empty—reserved for the two idiots who were, as expected, late.

"You’re acting like you weren’t up just as late as I was," you shoot back, lazily flipping through the laminated menu before going straight to the real priority: alcohol. "I need a drink. Immediately."

As if on cue, Connie and Eren show up, strolling toward the table with that casual, 'we definitely didn’t wake up on time but we made it' energy. Connie walks with his usual pep in his step, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who failed at punctuality. while Eren lags behind, looking annoyingly good for someone who was supposedly as hungover as you.

"Would you look at this," Connie announces, sliding into the seat across from Ymir. "The brunch bitches, in the flesh."

"You’re late," Historia points out, arching an eyebrow. Leave it to Connie to be late to something he planned.

"I told you no promises that I'd be on time," Connie dismisses with a limp wave. "We’re here now, and that’s what matters."

You don’t miss the way Eren’s eyes flick toward you as he sits across from you, that lazy smirk playing at his lips. Is this boy always smirking? He doesn’t say anything yet, just leans back in his seat, sizing you up like he’s trying to figure out the best way to approach. You don’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him for more than a second. Instead, you tap your fingers against the menu, eyes scanning over it even though you already know exactly what you want.

"So," you say, flipping the menu shut. "What’s everyone drinking? Because I am not doing this brunch sober." The first thing you do is order a mimosa, needing some sort of substance to numb the shitty feeling your body still harbored.

"Real shit," Ymir agrees, already knowing what's in order. "Mimosas all around?"

"Mimosa tower all around," Historia corrects, already flagging down the waiter with dainty hand.

"That’s my girl," you grin, nudging her shoulder with approval. There’s a silent understanding between you two; brunch isn’t brunch unless you leave a little tipsy.

The server swings by, takes everyone’s orders, and the conversation flows easily—mostly Connie, half-hungover and half-buzzed off life, trying to tell some barely coherent story about a girl he almost picked up last night.

"Bro, she looked just like Jade from Victorious," he insists, hands moving dramatically to prove his point.

Historia gives him a flat look, her usual wide doe eyes now hooded. "You say that about every girl with dark hair and a little eyeliner."

"That’s not even true—"

"It is true," Ymir interjects, rolling her eyes. "Last week it was that bartender at Sina’s. Week before that? The girl at the campus library."

"Okay, but this one really looked like her. Like actually," he tries to defend himself.

"Sure, Connie, sure." Historia nods, knowing how many times he had said this same thing before.

"You have a type," you say in a simple voice, reassuring him . "Own it."

Eren, though? He’s been biding his time, waiting for the right moment. And the second there’s a lull in the conversation, he leans forward, finally addressing you directly.

"So, you," he starts, and you slowly drag your gaze to him. His hair is messy, looking a bit greasy as a few strands fall over his forehead. Who does he think he is? Zayn?

"Me?" you say flatly, feigning disinterest as you take the mimosa flute from the server, keeping your lidded eyes glued on his. Looking away would make Eren feel like he had one up on you in this little staring contest.

"You," he repeats, resting his forearms on the table, emerald eyes locked onto yours. "Tell me something."

"Tell you what, Jaeger?" You take a slow, savoring sip of your drink.

He smirks, realizing you know his name without him ever introducing himself. "Oh, so you do know who I am," Eren smugly drawls, tapping a finger against the table. His posture goes more lax, legs spreading as if he's soaking up the ego that he lost last night.

Your face doesn’t give anything away, but inside, a flicker of irritation sparks. The way he’s looking at you—like he thinks he has the upper hand just because you acknowledged his name—sets something stubborn alight in your chest.

You take a slow sip of your mimosa, letting the bubbles fizz on your tongue before answering. "It’s hard not to when half the girls at that party were either throwing themselves at you or talking about how you used to throw yourself at them." Your memory reels to the blonde girl from last night, calling out Eren's name like he was some sort of damn celebrity.

Connie chokes on his drink, almost spewing his coffee all over the table. Ymir whistles lowly as her eyes dart between you and Eren. Historia presses her lips together, clearly entertained and loving every single moment of this.

Eren tilts his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he chuckles lowly. "Damn. You really came out swinging, huh?" He realizes his reputation precedes him, probably making his conquest of you just a little more difficult.

You lift a shoulder in a lazy shrug, setting your glass down with a soft clink. "Just calling it like I see it."

Historia, biting back a smirk, lifts her mimosa to her lips. Ymir’s grin is damn near feral. And Connie? He’s straight up beaming, like he’s witnessing the most entertaining drama of the century unfold before his very eyes.

Eren doesn’t look deterred, though. If anything, he looks even more interested. His elbow rests on the table as he leans in slightly, his gaze on you even more intense, as if that were even possible. "You keep talking like you’ve got me all figured out."

"Oh, I don’t need to figure you out," you reply smoothly, tilting your head with faux sympathy. "You’re a blueprint, Jaeger. Same old story, different haircut."

Connie loses it. "Bro, she just called you a template! A damn copy-paste ass—"

"Alright, alright," Eren cuts him off, but there’s no real bite to his tone. He’s still smirking, still looking at you like you’re a challenge he's determined to win. "I gotta admit, you got a sharp mouth."

"Comes in handy." You wink, picking up your drink again.

"And here I thought you'd at least pretend to be nice to me."

"Oh, Eren," you sigh dramatically, fluttering your lashes. "I don’t pretend for men."

Ymir wheezes. Historia’s dying. Connie is pounding the table with laughter, while Eren just sits back, shaking his head with that same smirk that hasn't left his face.

"You’re fun," he muses, eyes flicking over you, soaking in every detail. "I like fun." His tongue runs over his teeth as one of his arms slings over the top of the pleather booth lining.

"And I like my mimosa," you quip, raising your glass. "So let’s keep this professional, yeah?" You flash him a toothy smile and he would almost say you looked angelic if your attitude towards him wasn't the opposite.

Eren watches you take a sip, something unreadable flashing across his face. Whatever it is, it disappears quickly, replaced with something more playful. "Yeah, yeah. Sure. We’ll see about that."

Connie wipes a fake tear from his eye. "Goddamn, this brunch was worth it." This is exactly why Connie planned this little get together.

The mimosa tower arrives in all its bubbly glory, and Historia immediately starts pouring like she was born to be a rich housewife. She generously pours champagne from the tower's spout and asks everyone what juice they'd like. With the precision of a seasoned bartender (or maybe just a girl who’s been to one too many brunches), starts pouring everyone their custom mimosas.

“Alright, speak now or forever hold your juice preference,” she announces, tapping the spout like she’s about to make a life changing mixology decision. Large pitchers of different juices are lined up in front of her, waiting to be mixed with the bitter bubbles of champagne.

“Orange, obviously,” Ymir says, leaning back in her habitual manner, she could always get comfortable wherever she was, sprawled out like she's on her living room couch.

“Boring,” Historia mutters but obliges anyway, filling Ymir’s glass with the classic.

“Mango,” you say, watching as she pours the golden liquid. She makes yours strong, basically serving you champagne with a splash of mango flavor. Not that you're complaining though, you wanted to get tipsy.

“Classy,” Historia muses before turning to Connie. “You?”

He grins, his eyes scanning over the line up of juice options. “Mix ‘em. I’m feeling chaotic.” You don't know whether to scrunch your nose up in disgust or be impressed by Connie's idiotically genius idea.

Historia rolls her eyes but does it anyway. “Living on the edge, Springer.” His mimosa turns into a dark muddled purplish color.

“Always,” Connie quips, lifting his glass dramatically before taking a sip and nodding in satisfaction.

Then, finally, it’s Eren’s turn. He’s been quiet, just watching, observing, but now he leans forward slightly, lazily tilting his head toward you. “I’ll take whatever she’s having,” he says, eyes looking at the way you hold the champagne flute, making it wonder how your hand would look wrapped around his—

Ymir snorts. “Of course you will.”

You arch a brow at him over the rim of your glass, your lip curling slightly. “Copy-pasting my drink order too now?”

Eren doesn’t even blink. Just smiles at you, taking the glass Historia hands him. “What can I say? I like good taste.”

Historia fake gags. “God, please don’t flirt in front of my mimosa tower. It deserves better.” She downs half her drink like she’s washing away the secondhand embarrassment before refilling her flute with even more champagne and a splash of pineapple juice.

The table dissolves into laughter, the kind that feels warm and familial—like the collective, unspoken agreement that, yes, all of you may be hungover disasters, but at least you’re in it together. Connie and Historia start arguing over whether brunch food is overrated, with Ymir inserting herself into the debate just to get under Historia’s skin. Meanwhile, you feel Eren’s eyes on you every so often, like he’s still turning your words over in his head, still trying to crack whatever code he thinks you are. But you don’t look at him much. He doesn’t get that satisfaction of holding your attention longer than necessary. Instead, you lean back, sip your mimosa, and let the chaotic symphony of your friends fill the space.

"Alright, let’s toast," Connie raises his frankenstein of a mimosa up in the air.

"To what?" you ask with a lifted brow as you slowly raise your champagne flute.

Connie shrugs, trying to think of something clever. "Surviving another night of our dumbassery. And to, uh… new friendships?" He waggles his eyebrows between you and Eren, clearly trying to stir the pot.

Eren meets your gaze over the rim of his glass. He still has that look—the one that says he’s not done with you yet. You don’t react, just clink your mimosa against his without breaking eye contact. It was fun playing this little push and pull game, even if you were mostly pushing.

"Cheers," you say smoothly, a tiny hint of a sly smile on your face.

"Cheers," Eren echoes, mirroring your expression.

The table drinks, and for a brief moment, everything is peaceful—until Connie decides he needs all the attention again.

"So, get this," Connie starts, already grinning. "Eren and I had the most bullshit morning trying to get here."

"Oh god," Ymir mutters. "This better be good."

Connie rubs his hands together. "Picture this. I wake up, head pounding, mouth drier than the goddamn Sahara. I roll over, check my phone, and see like, five texts from you guys asking if I'm alive, and I’m like, ‘oh shit, we should link up and do brunch!’"

"Five texts isn’t even that much," Historia points out.

"Okay, well, it felt like a lot in my fragile, hungover state," Connie retorts before continuing. "Anyway, Eren comes over looking all tired and shit and heads straight for my couch. I tell 'im I'm gonna shower and to wait for me and guess what?? I come out and he's fuckin' snorin'. I try to wake him up, and this dude is fully knocked the hell out, like a damn corpse." He dramatically makes his head fall back, sticking his tongue out like he's dead to mimic Eren.

Eren exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "I was asleep. That’s normal, dumbass."

"Nah, bro, you were dead," Connie insists. "I had to blast music just to get him up."

"Which was so necessary," Eren drawls sarcastically. He swears his ears are still ringing from how close Connie put the speaker next to his ear.

"Yes, it was!" Connie exclaims, still finding the situation hilarious. "Because then this idiot gets up and takes, like, twenty goddamn minutes to stare at his phone instead of—"

"—Because I was looking at something important," Eren interjects.

"Yeah, sure, 'important'. Bro was probably checking his DMs like his life depended on it." Eren doesn’t confirm or deny this, which only makes Connie cackle harder. "Anyway," Connie continues, "we finally leave, and then tell me why this dumbass forgets his wallet, and we have to turn around—"

"I didn’t forget it," Eren argues, taking a sip of his drink. "I just didn’t know where it was."

Historia shakes her head, eyes squinting in exasperation. "That’s the same thing."

"Exactly!" Connie exclaims, arms flailing animatedly. "So now we’re really late, and when we finally get back in my car, the tire pressure light is on. And at that point, I was about ready to just die in my driveway."

"Honestly? You should’ve just let nature take you," Ymir says, stuffing one of the mini quiches the table ordered into her mouth.

"Rude!" Connie gasps, clutching his chest. "Ya know you would miss me if I actually died. Who else would entertain you at brunch?" He tosses a crumple up used sugar packet at her. You glance at Connie and allow yourself a small smile. He’s like a puppy that can’t stop barking, but you kind of like him that way. His antics help distract you from the tension that Eren never seems to let go of. Every time his gaze flickers your way, it’s like a spark of something you can’t name. Not yet, at least.

You softly laugh, finally giving in to the ridiculousness of it all. "So what I’m hearing is, between the two of you, getting to brunch was a damn odyssey?"

"Basically," Connie nods. "But hey, we made it. Even if Eren had to take his sweet ass time getting pretty for you."

You arch a brow at that, glancing over at Eren, whose lips twitch like he’s trying to suppress another smirk. You know Connie’s just stirring the pot, but you can’t deny there’s a certain… appeal in how Eren carries himself. It’s not that he’s trying—he doesn’t need to. And that's what irritates you.

Eren doesn’t even flinch at Connie's comment, instead leaning into it. "Maybe I did," he says smoothly, taking another slow, deliberate sip of his drink. "But even if I didn't I'd still look good enough for ya." It was something about this boy's ego that seemed to tick you off.

You just tilt your head, resting your chin on your palm as you regard Eren with yet another unimpressed stare. "Pretty bold assumption there, Jaeger."

Eren shrugs, an annoyingly smug grin tugging at his lips. "I make good ones."

"Debatable." You gulp the rest of your mango mimosa, wiping the little droplet that was on the corner of your mouth. "But sure, if you wanna tell yourself that." Reaching for a piece of french toast, you dip it in syrup, taking your time as you chew slowly, almost to taunt him. The silence between you both stretches, and for a moment, you allow yourself to enjoy the satisfaction of the game—your back straight, your expression utterly indifferent while his is all too easy to read: that quiet frustration that you’re just out of reach.

Connie, wiping the fake tears from his eyes, waves a hand between the two of you. "Oh, this is good. This is so good. Keep going. I’m invested." Cause who needs reality television when you have two friends at each other's throats.

"You would be," Historia mutters before popping a piece of fruit into her mouth. Although she's just as invested in this fiasco.

Eren leans forward again, that damn smirk still present. "Alright, since we’re making assumptions—what about you? Took extra time getting ready just in case I showed up?" He wants to make you flustered, wants to see you blush or tense up or show any other emotion besides indifference to him.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, sweetheart, I barely made it out of bed. The only thing I got pretty for was this mimosa tower." There’s no hesitation in your words, no hesitation in the way you look at him. You’ve got to keep your ground. He’s fishing for something, but you’re not biting.

Eren clicks his tongue, feeling stumped. For once he didn't have a clever comeback. "Damn. Shot down again just like that." His fingers tap on the table as he falls back against the back of the booth.

You flash him a mock sympathetic look, plump bottom lip jutting into a pout. "Tragic, really."

Ymir whistles, tearing into yet another one of the quiches like it's popcorn and this is a show. "Alright, this is a slow burn in real time, and I’m loving it." The tension is so thick between you and Eren, it’s almost palpable. Whether it’s sexual, confrontational, or just a game of egos—you’re not sure, but everyone at the table feels it.

Historia leans on her elbow, eyeing you both. The stare down the two of you are having seems almost intimate. "You sure you two haven’t met before? Because this feels... personal."

You roll your eyes, trying to avoid the sudden rush of heat that floods your chest. "Nope. Just have a sixth sense for bullshit." Honestly you were tired of this little act Eren was putting on. From the stories Ymir and Historia had told you he was nowhere near as nice as he's pretending to be right now. You were waiting for his entitlement and attitude to shine through.

Eren huffs out a chuckle at that, shaking his head. "Noted." Despite the sour look you try to put on, Eren can see that flushed look you try to suppress, and although you would deny, deny, deny, he knows that he's slowly but surely gonna get what he wants. With that thing being you.

You take the opportunity to turn away, reclaiming some semblance of control in this little exchange. You busy yourself with refilling your mimosa, making a point to give him nothing else to latch onto. But then you glance over at him again, catching him staring at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You’re almost sure he’s trying to figure you out, and maybe it’s working. Maybe he’s getting under your skin more than you’d like to admit. But before you can process it, Ymir’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

"You two are ridiculous," she says, leaning back in her chair, as she watches the two of you basically having a staring contest still. "You know that, right?"

You shoot her a look, but before you can respond, Historia accidentally spills her sixth mimosa, her face flushed, a giggle escaping her lips. "Oopsieeee," she hiccups, taking a french toast stick and sopping up the spilled liquid before taking a bite.

"Uh oh," Connie says, grinning. "Looks like someone had a little too much to drink already." Connie honestly loves when Historia gets like this, she's the definition of white girl wasted, always turning into a completely different person once she gets some alcohol in her system.

Historia leans heavily against Ymir, blinking slowly as she chews. "I’m fine," she slurs. "Just a little tipsy."

The whole table laughs as Ymir grabs her arm to steady her, clearly rolling her eyes but not too bothered by it. As the rest of the group focuses on Historia, you glance back at Eren, only to find him looking at you—his expression unreadable now, though the edge of amusement hasn’t left his eyes. You almost think he's going to say something—almost want him to—when Ymir interrupts, loud and clear.

"Okay, enough of you two and your weird ass tension. You’re both insufferable. Let’s get this one home before she turns into a puddle of bad decisions," Ymir grumbles, throwing Historia’s arm around her shoulder. You almost wonder how Historia got so drunk, but then you realize how tiny she is and just how much she drank. Plus, the girl barely touched any of her food, too focused on downing mimosa after mimosa.

You stand up from the table, shaking your head at the chaos of it all. You’re a little drunk, a little tipsy, but mostly, you’re irritated that the moment was so easily broken. You grab your purse, eyes locking with Eren’s one last time as you follow the others. For a split second, you wonder what he’s thinking—if he’s still amused by you, or if he’s over it. You’re not sure. But whatever it is, it’s a thought that will linger long after this brunch ends. As you step out of the diner the cool air hits you, and the rest of the group’s voices fade into the background. You feel his gaze on your back, and the flutter in your stomach is the only clue you need: this isn’t over.

.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・

tags ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ @cc1306 @booksandbud4me

[spxllcxstxr]

Kintsugi • K.R

(Gif not mine)

Request: Pls pls I need Kendall x young reader wife with a kid living in a remote place away from all the post waystar drama — anon

Summary: Six months later, Kendall still believes he's broken

Warnings: fem!reader (referred to as girl and mommy), usage of mommy and daddy but in pure parental terms, you have an unnamed daughter, rehab mention, kendall takes meds and goes to therapy now, past suicide implication/mention?, normal ken stuff, spoilers for the end of succession

Word Count: 1.2k (I didn't think it was gunna be this long lmao)

A.N: this was a little angsty im not gunna lie lmao, I’m going feral over this request—I just want Ken to be HAPPY, not enough happy Kendall gifs, also i am not entirely great with writing modern bros so like sorry about the characterization? first kendall piece so if you have any tips let me know, hope you all enjoy!

Kintsugi - a Japanese art form that involves repairing broken pottery with gold

•

"Ken? Ken honey do you want to join us at the beach today?" Your words cut through the painful silence of your master bedroom, shrouded in darkness despite it being past noon.

Kendall gives no indication that he heard you; no vague grunt or shift in movement. He just lays there--the blanket covering everything below his nose as his eyes stay closed. He isn't sleeping, you've been married to him long enough that his shuddering breaths and still as stone rigid posture was a poor attempt to convince you otherwise.

It’s like he thinks the blanket is the only thing holding him together. Like if he leaves that spot he’ll crumble to pieces right in front of you.

Your heart drops just looking at him. Being away from the city had obviously done some good, along with his month long visit to rehab, but Ken was still…healing.

You kiss his forehead before leaving, telling your disappointed daughter that daddy wouldn't be joining you today.

"It's one of daddy's bad days?" She asks once you feet hit the sand. Her childish voice laced with her innocence almost makes you tear up.

"It is, sweetie..." You nod, before quickly distracting her with placing your towels down and bringing out water bottles from her little pink lunchbox.

The ocean is what occupies her little body for the first hour or so. She jumps over the little waves and collects sea shells. Like what any parent would do, you snap photos of her with the biggest grin on her face.

Eventually, though, the two of you end up in the sand, using her plastic bucket and shovel to build a castle fit for a queen. She's actually not half bad, you notice, as the usual clumsy movements of a toddler are no longer present when she details her sandcastle.

“How’re my girls?”

You look up from the sand beneath your fingers to see your husband, clad in shorts and t-shirt.

“Daddy!” Your daughter shrieks, practically stomping all over the sandcastle the two of you were working on to get to Kendall.

She hugs his knees, squeezing them between her little arms, and he crouches down to hug her back.

Your husband smiles and it’s enough to convince your daughter—but not you.

He's tired, you notice; though it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. At just a glance it looks as if your husband has aged 50 years in six months. His eyes are sunken, not mention the dullness of his usually bright brown eyes. Kendall's normally sun-kissed skin now a deathly grey, which makes sense, he has barely left your bedroom much less the house. It’s almost as if someone had taken a spoon and hollowed out everything that made him human. Frown lines are etched into his face, your heart almost shatters at the overpowering aura of sadness and despair surrounding him.

Six months isn't enough time to wash away the years at Waystar.

You smile at him as your daughter takes his hand and drags him to the crumbling sandcastle.

Once he sits down he kisses you, placing a large hand on the side on your face. You taste the mint of the mouthwash he must've just used before his trek down here. Kissing Kendall was addicting, it always was, but with your daughter's groan of disgust you slowly pull away from him.

"Oh don't be like that kiddo, that's just what mommies and daddies do when they're in love." Kendall teases, ruffling her hair in the process.

She sticks her tongue out before turning her attention back on the ruins of the castle in front of her. Instead of crying about the state of it, she happily starts rebuilding with the help of you and Ken.

One eye never leaves his figure.

This sort of mood swing isn’t uncommon, for years you’ve experienced Kendall’s drastic moods, but this certainly wasn’t one of his highs.

The sandcastle slowly morphs into a sandkingdom; once she starts she never wants to stop. That is, until your daughter finally gets tired after the sun sets and she curls into Kendall’s lap.

You know you should get back to the house, it’s late, but it’s just too peaceful out here, alone on the beach.

Careful not to stir the little girl in his lap, Kendell leans his head on your shoulder, shifting closer to your warm figure. The stars flicker above you--a sight you almost never saw in the city. You take a deep breath before kissing your husband's recently buzzed head. Kendall hums, nuzzling even closer into you, like he was trying to burrow underneath your skin so you never had to leave him.

"I love you, Kendall. And we're ok." You whisper, the words getting eaten by the crashing waves just feet away from the two of you. Still, he hears you, you can tell by the sniffle against your shirt. Your daughter groans in her sleep, shifting.

He swallows roughly at your words.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/n)…I fucked it.” Ken chokes out quietly, trying not to disturb the child. “I fucked it and I’m broken.”

His tears seep into your shirt. You angle your head down, your nose brushing against the top of his head.

"Oh Ken honey..." Your own lip wobbles at your husband's vulnerability. "You're not broken...you were never broken..."

"Then I'm--I'm fucking cracked, (Y/n)! I'm just not whole anymore! I don’t know if I ever was!"

Thoughts race through your head. Kendall had been doing better. He was consistent with taking his meds and he went to therapy every week. What if he tried to--? You clutch him closer to you, trying not to make yourself spiral when Kendall needed you.

His body shakes with silent sobs, your daughter still peacefully sleeping, unaware of the world around her.

The cool ocean breeze dances across your skin. You take a deep breath.

"Have you ever heard of kintsugi, Ken?"

"What? I'm having a complete breakdown and you're asking me about whatever the fuck that is?" He huffs, annoyed.

"Just listen to me Ken, it'll go somewhere." You kiss the top of his head to comfort his suddenly tense figure beside you. He eases at the contact. "I read in some stupid magazine that it's a Japanese technique where they repaired broken pots and stuff with gold." Kendall lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are red with unshed tears and his eyebrows are furrowed, listening to you. "They were made whole again; made more beautiful and were stronger than before."

Kendall purses his lips as you bring a hand up to stroke his tear stained cheek. Your other hand lightly strokes through your daughter's hair, careful not to rouse her.

"We'll be your gold, Kendall."

All at once the tension leaves his body, tears cascading down his face. His once dimly lit eyes brighten to reflect the stars above.

"Right," He nods, almost like he doesn't know how to respond to what you just said. "My gold..." His eyes flick between you and your daughter before his head settles back onto your shoulder, almost as if he couldn't take anymore emotions for the day.

You sigh, leaning your own head against his. Closing your eyes, you let the sound of the waves wash over the otherwise silent night.

The stars still shine above you and the saltiness of the ocean tinges the air.

You were all going to be alright.

•

[hotties4gojo]

Hii 😋

Omg suddenly I'm feeling kinda shy like what am I doing here 🧍‍♀️

But I was thinkingg for a while and I swear I have one song in my mind like 25/8 and that's "Our First Time" By Bruno Mars and I swear it's so 😛😝😻🤩😍🙇‍♀️🐶🛐🛐

So I was wondering about maybe like how jjk characters might react to the first time with reader or sum 😌😇

And if you're not feeling this then maybee confession would be cute 🙈🙊 Idk if it would happen if either reader is tipsy or maybe sober or maybe something else, it's up to you 😛

And if you're not feeling this one either it's okay no worries 😍😇

Sorry if you are struggling with understanding something, English is not my first language 😵‍💫😵‍💫 Thank you so much for reading this you seem like a really cool person, bye 🫶🩷

firstly ur english is perfect ml don’t worry about it and no need to feel shy either!! 😙😙 secondly u got me blushingggg and thirdly oh my goddddd I forgot about that song… just flew back in time

JUST GO WITH IT JUST GO WITH IT JUST GO WITH IT AND I WILL GO REAL SLOW WITH IT SLOW WITH IT ITS OUR FIRST TIME 😫

thank you for the headcanon request 🥳🥳 i got a lil carried away cos i was having fun LMAO

characters: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, shoko ieiri, yuki tsukumo

content: loss of virginity, gn!reader for the boys, fem!reader and wlw for the girls cos they’re sapphics, oral sex, penetration, fingering, humor

18+, MDNI

satoru gojo:

• “you’re a virgin??” “yeah” “and you want your first time to be with your beautiful amazing devastatingly handsome pookadookasnooks meow meow snugglemuffin???” “yeah 😕” “SAY LESS!”

• way too excited about the whole thing because wow. he’s the first person outside of yourself to, well, touch allll up on yourself

• he can tell you’re embarrassed about the noises so his loudmouth self puts on a show as if they’re starring in a porno. exaggerated wet noises bounce around your ear canals like a ping pong ball as he kisses you everywhere with pronounced ‘mwahs’ and he moans LOUD AS FAWK as if he’s the one getting groped and fondled for the first time

• satoru’s sosososo sweet, asking what you want and how. he also keeps going “oooh hold on this’ll feel really good too, watch this” and generally just makes sure you’re feeling comfortable And having a good time; because intimacy is so much better when you can laugh and have fun with it too

• you end up sinking down onto his cock while he reclines on his back, gripping your hips but letting you steer the wheel for the most part. doesn’t stfu and endlessly praises you as you ride him, and he’s cheeeesing because he’s happy that you’re enjoying your first time

• once you cum he flips you over and takes you to pound town, cheesing even harder because your whimpers are sooo cuteeee when you’re overstimulated. but at some point satoru notices it gets to be too much and he doesn’t want his pretty baby to be in pain, nuh uhhhh

• pulls out to cum all over your tummy then drags a finger through the mess and brings his dripping finger up to your lips. “one gojo special, coming right up. and don’t worry about taste— i’ve been eating lots and lots of pineapple juuust for this ;)”

suguru geto:

• you may as well kiss all of your bodily functions goodbye the second he lays you down on the bed

• like its joever man

• suguru’s gonna make you pass out from the head rush you get as he makes you describe exactly how you feel as he’s touching you, petting over you. he doesn’t let you leave out a single detail. chuckles and teases you when your voice cracks or you look at the ceiling instead of him after spewing the raunchy shit that he wants to hear. edges tf outta you when you Don’t

• “aht aht, use your words, sweetheart. i can’t take care of you properly when you aren’t telling me what you need”

• because don’t you worry! chivalry is not in fact dead; not when there’s a gentleman between your legs. suguru’s far from a selfish lover— this is about you and the trust you’ve placed in him to take care of you, which he already does in every other aspect of your relationship. and he’s more than happy to do the same during their time in bed

• has you cumming on his mouth, then his fingers, then his cock that he sinks into you in missionary so that he can watch how your irises visibly tremble as you look up at him and the way the soft pink of your lips shapes his name

• everything you want you get, and more. he leaves you wanting for nothing. suguru pamperssss you and takes you to the moon

• but oh my fucking god are you alive?? are you even on earth anymore???? you’re twitching and shaking and gasping for what feels like hours

• “i think i saw jesus for half a second,” and he’s chuckling again, entangling your fingers after he’s cleaned you up, hand fed you some chocolate, and tipped your head back so he could dribble water into your mouth for you. he guides your fingers to his hair. “think that might’ve been me, angel. i’m the only long-haired man in the room.”

• you smack his chest

toji fushiguro:

• “oh word?” is all this man says when you announce that you’re ready on a random thursday afternoon: he doesn’t look up from his phone (he was really getting into the house restoration tiktok he was watching) until you confirm it

• you’re promptly thrown over his shoulder and he hauls you to bed

• though he’s a straight shooter and goes for what he wants whenever he wants, toji slows himself down for you because he knows ur internally shitting bricks. you don’t even gotta see his cock to know that he’s PACKING and you’re already praying to your ancestors that you survive. his sharp eyes catch the subtle bob of your throat as you swallow and the spiraling staircase spelled out in your eyes

• “jesus, doll, ‘m not gonna fuckin’ tear your ass up and wreck your shit just yet.” he’ll save getting his dick in your stomach for a rainy day. “but a man’s gotta eat.”

• the second he’s between your soft thighs, your fingers laced through his hair while his mouth drops down to where you’re leaking, toji shows you exactly why he’s the best at what he does. and no he does NAWT mean killing sorcerers

• though this is gn!reader, he’d definitely eat fem!reader from the back

• he’s as gentle as a man like him can be as he goes down on you ‘til you cum, then he whips his cock out to take care of himself when you offer to help him out. and who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

• toji guides you, shows you exaaactly how to stroke him right, squeezing on the upstroke, screwing your free palm against the tip. you daringly take half of him into your mouth and he pulls you off to cum on your face cos well. he’s toji

• “we’re doin’ this again the second i get myself back up”

• oh fawk

choso kamo:

• “guess that makes two of us” is what he casually says when you tell him that you’re a virgin

• contrary to popular belief, no, he’s not clueless when it comes to sex. he’s got what he’s seen on TV, what he’s personally looked up, and the memories of his host’s body all on his side

• so in theory both of you know how sex works, what goes where and whatnot . in practice? all of that knowledge seems to fly out the fucking window to join the birds

• choso lit some vanilla-scented candles to set the mood, because this moment is super special for both of them, right? everything needs to be perfect. romantic

• you’re gripping the shit out of a bottle of cherry flavored lube, which you bought because gojo and yuki swore to them both that it’d make things more fun, as if someone’s gonna take that shit from you as you clamber onto his lap. and then they both stare at each other. “lovely, how should we…” “let’s just make out and go from there??”

• you both get into a rhythm, hands skirting beneath clothes as you swap spit

• kissing while you straddle him turns into him lying back, their palms glued together with sweat as their hands entangle on either side of his head. which turns into grinding and whiny moans

• both of you nut in your pants like teenagers

• round two starts with breathy laughter and awed gazes as soiled clothes get tossed to the side so that you can explore each other’s bodies and properly pin down the other’s preferences this time. and the lube finally gets put to use

• choso’s more preoccupied with your needs than his; a puppy born and bred to please, and reaaaally fawking eagerly. pawing at your erogenous zones that he discovers after some trial and error, and you do the same to him. it’s all sooooo sweet, so gentle, even though both of you are fumbling and giggling

• “is this okay? faster, slower? whatever you want.”

• he doesn’t last long once he sinks inside of you, but choso manages to make you cum again before he busts a second time too, so hey, win win

shoko ieiri:

• honestly she’s not really surprised that you’re a virgin. she knows damn well you’re not the type to wander off to some bar and pick some rando up for your first time. and there’s not a large roster of sorcerer women to pick from, either

• luckily she’s your girlfriend. and she has enough experience to know what the hell to do

• which is why she busts out the double-ended dildo and tosses it to the side of the bed. you stare at it with big ass eyes and she just chuckles as she guides you to sit between her legs, your back squishing her boobs

• not only is she gonna show you how good it feels to be touched by someone other than yourself, she’s gonna show you exactly how she touches you

• holds your legs open with her own legs, spreading you niiice and wide so that you can see yourself in the mirror while shoko fingers you and narrates every. single. thing. that she’s doing. mostly to watch how flustered you get

• makes you cum on her fingers multiple times until you’re drooling because you deserve nothing but the best. she’s very happily getting off on your pleasure

• then shoko smiles to herself as you, lashes shading your spacey gaze and muscles still erratically twitching beneath your skin, turn around and eat her out to return the favor. that’s when your body really registers that she absolutely destroyed your kitty and wore down your mind and body. you practically fall asleep with your mouth on her while her hand scratches at your scalp as if you’re a kitten

• “tired already, cutie? guess we’ll save the double-ended dildo for next time.”

• YOU’RE UP

yuki tsukumo:

• they’re making out on a flannel-patterned blanket that they laid out on the grass when yuki goes to worm her long fingers down your pants when you tell her that its your first time

• “you’re telling me that people weren’t lining up around the block to get a piece of this ass and a taste of it too before we started dating?? ohhh bunny… that’s criminal.”

• “good thing yuki thee stallion’s happy to take her cute girl for a ride!”

• because if anything she’s JUICEDDDD that she’s your first. mentally she’s kicking her feet, carving your initials into a tree, rolling down the slight incline of the hill where they’ve been pointing out constellations and shooting the shit on. little do you know that they’re gonna have a spring wedding and todo’s gonna be her best man

• hauls you up her body so that you can sit on her face out in the open. sure they could just scoot back to their hotel room on her harley but mmmm… semi-public sex with no one else around… its her shit

• she’s already plotting ways to tease you when they’re Really in public

• you’re thinking, ‘wow, how can this possibly get better’ while jerkily riding her tongue when she brings her fingers into the mix and you squirt, just like that. yuki must be floating in the heavens up above them because WOW HOLY SHIT this is the best day of her life. what a treat

• she pulls you back down, all smiles and sunshine as she coos praise. but are y’all done? helllll naw. yuki flips you over, shuffles out of her jeans, and introduces you to the art of scissoring while she mauls your tits like a dog with a new chew toy

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

[22:45]

AN: Maybe I should actually challenge myself to write something with Josh being a genuinely nice/good guy lmao. Also, I finished and edited this while sleepy sooo.

General tags and warnings: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, roommates AU, enemies to enemies who fuck and cheating is brought up but, no actual cheating occurs.

Smut tags and warnings: Sadistic Dom! Joshua, masochist sub! Reader, edging (f. receiving), face slapping (f. receiving), Reader cries a bit, Daddy kink, thigh riding, degradation (f. receiving), humiliation (f. receiving), choking (f. receiving), Josh has a cheating kink sort of and dirty talk.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You're late. You know you've been running late for some time now. The momentary vibrations you hear from your phone on the coffee table lets you know that your friends are likely wondering where you are. You can practically see Mingyu's frustrated face in your mind. 

“I'm sorry, am I boring you?” 

Joshua's sarcastic tone snaps you out of thoughts of your friends and all of the alcohol you're missing out on. A long anticipated night of catching up interrupted by your aggravating roommate and your inability to say no to him. 

“Shu–Shut up,” you hiss, digging your manicured nails into his broad shoulders. His responding chuckle lets you know that he couldn't care less about your little retaliation tactic. The large hand on your ass remains firm, forcing you to rock yourself on his dress pant covered thigh. The same thigh he's been edging you with for god knows how long. It's covered in your wetness. The evidence that you don't quite hate Joshua as much as you'd hoped. He doesn't seem bothered in the slightest that you're likely ruining his too expensive pants. His attention focused on making you ruin the panties he hasn't let you take off yet. 

“What?” He starts, flexing his thigh and delighting in the way you gasp and chase the more tangible friction it offers, “Are we going to pretend you don't get off to my voice now?” He asks, lidded eyes never leaving your face. Determined to drink in as many of your fucked out expressions as he can. 

“I don't–” 

A sharper gasp leaves your bruised lips when you feel the familiar smack of his hand on your cheek. It stings. Tears welling in your eyes while your pussy is forced to clench and unclench painfully around nothing and dribble more of your arousal onto him. 

The knot in the pit of your gut tightens when that same hand grabs your face, forcing you to meet his stormy gaze, “I thought you knew better than to lie to me,” he coos condescendingly, his thumb wiping away the few tears that spill from your eyes. Fuck. This is always the worst part. The juxtaposition. The pain radiating from your cheek coupled with the gentle way he touches your face makes your head spin and your clit throb. 

“I–I'm sorry,” you whimper out once the words find you. Grasping at his pristine button down while your hips chase the barest bits of friction his thigh offers. You can see his smile clear as day even through your teary eyes. If he wasn't such an asshole, you'd think it was cute. However, you learned a long time ago that nothing about Joshua is cute. Your nails dig into his shirt when he presses into your freshly slapped cheek, eyes glinting when you shudder on him and grind your pussy harder against his thigh. 

“I'm sorry what?” 

Embarrassment burns hot in your gut and, the shame mixed with the pain pushes you so close to cumming that you can taste it if you try hard enough. 

“Come on, are you really going to get all shy on me now?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow, an expression that would look incredibly stupid on anyone else in this situation. You feel his blunt nails dig into the thickest part of your ass, halting your movements and you've never wanted to cry from frustration more. That would just get him off though. “You do know I can feel the way you're soaking and humping my thigh like a bitch in heat, right? We don't have to play this game.” He finishes, relaxing against your shared couch and waiting for you to just say it. 

You've said it before. You know you like it. Maybe he'll even let you finally cum if you do. The thought more than enough to send your walls fluttering and your heart hammering in your chest. 

“I'm sorry, Daddy.” 

His grip on your face grows harsh and he drags you into a messy kiss while his other hand relaxes and lets you continue riding his thigh. “See,” he pants against your mouth, his eyes heavy with want, “Was that so hard?” 

‘Yes. Yes, it was’ you want to snark back but, you know better. You know he wouldn't think twice about leaving you like this for days and not letting you cum until you're banging at his door and are forced to face his obnoxiously smug expression. 

“N–No, Daddy,” you pant, the tangled mess of tension in the pit of your stomach growing taut with every drag of your clit on him and, the way his fingers map their way down your face. 

“See, it's so easy when you shut the fuck up and do what I tell you to,” the sweetness in his tone makes your head spin, worsening the haze in your mind. Which isn't helped by his fingers wrapping themselves around your neck and applying pressure. You're pretty sure your eyes roll into the back of your head and your movements grow more desperate, more pathetic. 

“No cumming yet,” he orders into your ear, his other hand appreciatively kneading your ass. Despite your best efforts, a whine of frustration leaves your swollen lips and the glint in his eyes returns. 

“Are you complaining?” He drawls, pressing down harder and delighting in the way you quiver on his thigh and attempt to steady yourself with his broad chest.

“N–No, Daddy,” you rush out because you really don't know how much more of this you can take. You're so wet and swollen and, everything hurts. 

“Good,” he responds. “Maybe I should edge you for another hour,” the thought makes tears well up in your eyes and your stomach drop in a way that isn't wholly unpleasant, “Send you wet and aching to your little boyfriend,” he muses into your ear, thumbing your jugular. 

“He–He's not m–my boy ah friend,” you respond in frustration, hoping the image of your friend that pops up in your mind vanishes quickly. You'd rather not think about him right now. 

“You sure about that? The way he trails after you like a lost puppy would say otherwise.” 

“Ch–Cheol doesn't do th–that,” you huff, the knife in your gut twisting when he nips at your earlobe as you maintain a pace that doesn't send you careening over the edge before he permits you to. 

“You can't be that naïve,” he says with a smile, “He practically looks at you with hearts in his eyes. He'd be so crushed to see his precious girl getting wet from a few slaps and making a mess on my thigh,” he continues with faux sympathy for Seungcheol. He doesn't give you a moment to think about the idea of Seungcheol having feelings for you. Joshua has always been fond of pushing you just to see how you break. “I bet he'd treat you so nicely. Make love to you in missionary while whispering sweet nothing in your ear about how much he loves you and how pretty you are,” he whispers, “but you don't want that right? That's why you keep crawling back to Daddy. You want someone who'll treat you like the slut you are. Who'll choke you while you cry on his cock. Who'll make you call him Daddy knowing it makes you feel embarrassed. Who'll fuck you nice and hard until you're sore and leaking with cum.” 

You fucking hate him.

You hate the way your mind grows hazier with every gravelly word he whispers into your ear. You hate the way your pussy clamps down fiercely around nothing. You hate the way that you're so close and you need to fist his shirt in your hands just to help ground yourself and not cum because he hasn't said you can yet.  Air rushes to your brain almost too quickly for you to handle. His hand drifting from your throat to the apex of your thighs. You choke on a jumbled mess of ‘Daddy’ and ‘fuck’ when his thick fingers drag themselves along your ruined panties, “I have a much better idea. I'll send you to him with your pussy filled with my cum.”

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Seventeen Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[tetedurfarm]

I know I just have goat fever right now daydreaming, but I would love to hear about your goats. What's their purpose, most annoying trait, anything at all

i am so sorry in advance because i am always brutal when people want animals that i own and they ask me for my opinion. it's a personality flaw. but i need people to understand why animals suck before i say why they are fun lmao

why goat:

my goats are for milk mainly. i have a nigerian dwarf, a mini nubian, a mostly-nigerian 'mini-nubian', and a kinder. their milk is actually really good, all of them, and their production is good for my needs. i expect each to make about half a litre or so a day at peak production this year, going off of numbers from last year. it will be violet's third freshening, and phoebe's second, and they generally increase in production every year for the first three or four years before levelling off. i am not planning to breed hallow unless i find someone with a nigerian buck that they don't mind letting me borrow, cos derek is just way too big for her i fear. turnip will be on her first freshening. i prefer the mini nubians and kinders to the nigerians because they have more ground clearance and bigger teats so it's easier to use a machine on them. hand milking the itty bitty titties isn't awful but i try not to hand milk if possible lol

i do eat kids because i can't sell them, and they are dairy goats so they aren't exactly the meatiest things on the planet, but it's food. i like the taste of wether and doe but buck is stanky.

what i hate about goats:

crime. i know it's the joke but genuinely goats are little shits and your new favourite hobby is now fence the second you put one on your land. literally any sort of weakness in their enclosure they will get through. cannot overstate. if you use electric fence as their primary enclosure (if you want them to mow a weird spot for you or something) they have to be net and they have to hit hard. provided it's grounded right, my net fence with a 1 joule solar charger can hit around 4k max and they will ignore that if they want something on the other side bad enough. however they will usually respect it if they have plenty to eat within the legal zone. you cannot tie a goat because they will strangle themselves trying to eat something outside of their range or slip their collar and do whatever they want.

they will climb on anything they possibly can, including buildings and enclosures. they will also rub on things which is fine sometimes if it's a brush mounted on a pole and bad sometimes when it's your fence. also if they can stick their head through a fance they will do so and if they have horns they will get stuck. sometimes they will get stuck without horns. the issue i have the most with them sticking their heads through fence is they push on it so hard it can warp cattle panel fences and stretch tension ones so i just have to make sure they aren't overly mcfucking everything every now and then.

speaking of horns it is sort of a personal preference on whether or not you do horns. horns look sick af and help them thermoregulate in hotter climates but also horns suck ass and make a lot of things difficult if you are milking them. horns don't always fit into milking stanchions, and i have had enough situations with a bitchy nanny on the stand where if horns were involved i would have been pretty badly injured. they will press them against things because it feels good and again that's fine if it's a post and bad if it's you. my horned goats don't seem to headbutt things like my ram does, and my goats are little so they can't push me over when they press on me, but if they were normal sized goats we'd be having words. trying to medicate horned goats is a pain because i can't just pop them between my thighs unless i want really wicked bruises. i did not want horned goats. the only reason i have two is because one i didn't go deep enough when i was dehorning him, and the other i didn't plan to keep so i didn't bother. there is a nonzero chance i will replacing the horned doe with a daughter this year just because i don't want to deal with it :/

feed-wise they aren't too bad but they are ruminants and have ruminant problems. but you have rabbits and a lot of the same things apply so it's not a huge deal. they need roughage constantly which means if you don't have grass you have to buy hay, and if you can't get it cheap then get fucked. everyone's feeding methods and routine is individual to their needs and herd but mine have free-choice local hay, and i give them a flake or two of alfalfa a day depending on their condition (less in summer when there's grass, more in winter when there isn't.) i give a little grain twice a day; i personally find it less expensive and better and keeping condition on them than just alfalfa, plus it serves as a great incentive to get them all back in the shed when i need. same as the alfalfa, they get less in summer and more in winter, just kinda eyeballed and adjusted as needed to keep condition. the buck and his wether get less grain and their alfalfa is pelleted because it just works a little better with how their feeders are set up. speaking of feeders - goats LOVE standing in feeders and will shit and piss in them and then decide the food is inedible. we screwed 2x4s about six to eight inches over their troughs to prevent this but it makes the horned ones' lives harder so we will need to adjust them. in general goats will not eat food once it touches the ground. it's really fucking annoying because they will waste so much fucking hay that way if you don't have some kind of solid bottom to their feeders. this is An Problem with alfalfa because they ONLY eat the leaves and rarely eat the stems, but the leaves just fall out of normal hay racks and onto the ground. which is lava, obviously. also, they will get addicted to alfalfa and grain. and if you do not give them these things every day they will make your life hell. which is like, fine, if that is part of your feeding plan, but let's just say it took beetlebug over a month of constant screaming before he finally adjusted to his new diet of not being free-fed alfalfa like he was at his old home. he nearly was returned to sender x:

my goats are not huge fans of treats/cookies for some fucking reason and will only eat them if they're apple flavoured. most people do not have this problem.

this is only really a con for me because i also have sheep, but because sheep can't have copper in their mineral i have to bolus my goats a couple of times a year as needed which is a pain in the ass. the fig newton trick does not work because of aforementioned 'we only eat apple cookies' reasons so i have to do it the hard way and it's a rodeo every single time and i hate it. you know they need copper because their fur will get kinda dull and sometimes curly, and they will get what's called a 'fishtail' where they will start going bald on the tip of their tails. it's more a problem for me in winter because we have good copper in the soil, but when there's no grass they need a little help.

goats have soft feet that don't grind down well so you have to trim them which isn't a huge issue but just like, an issue. it's hard on my body particularly so i don't do it as often as i know i should. a trimming stanchion is worth the money. also make sure you get good quality shears because shitty ones will kill your hands.

goats do not suffer in silence and much like cats their definition of suffer is sometimes not actually suffering at all, and is just like....you did not give them alfalfa at Exactly the same time one day so you get to listen to shrieking until you do it. my nursing mamas sleep in a different area that is closer to the house and they will get Real Mad for a couple days the first few times i put them in there at night, and then also every morning if they run out of hay.

if it matters to you, the milk is naturally mostly homogenised and it means if you want to make cream or butter or whatever you have to have a cream separator which are complicated, expensive, and annoying to clean. the milk will separate a little bit on its own, so i guess if you really wanted to you could just skim it every day but you still won't get all of it without a separator.

and lastly, if you keep a buck then you get to deal with Buck Issues™️. famously, bucks stink. my old buck stank all the time, but derek is actually not so bad. outside of horny season he has very little smell but even when he's pissing on himself to appeal to the ladies he isn't nearly as fragrant as orion was. orion you could smell from a mile away. they are also rough on fences and gates for goat reasons but also for horny reasons if there's a doe on the other side. make sure your gates latch Real good. they also need less fat in their diets, can be pushy, and need a companion of some variety or they will get sad. derek lives with beetlebug, who is wethered, and they get along well. some people can keep bachelor groups but it seems to be the exception, and i personally have no need for multiple bucks so i can't give you any firsthand experience.

what i like about goats:

milk milk milk milk milk. it's real good. at least my goats' milk is; not all breeds have tasty milk. to me my goats' milk just tastes like slightly above 2% cows' milk, with a little bit of a grassy or piney taste depending on what they've been eating. mini nubians are nigerian/nubian crosses so their milk is very high in fat and very sweet. kinders are pygmy/nubian crosses so they are a little meatier and the milk is sweet but a little less high in fat.

they are very personable animals and usually will eat out of your hand even if they aren't fan of being pet and cuddled. bottle-raised ones can range from 'dog you can do anything to and likes hanging out with you' to 'trying to climb you constantly and eat your hair' but i have never had that last problem because i don't allow climbing or constant pestering. the worst i've had with a bottle-raised kid was daisy being really like...sexually aggressive towards me and that's why she's in the freezer now. they have big personalities and they are very fun to watch do their little goat thing and there is constant pecking order politics happening to spice things up.

they come in lots of pretty colours and you can mix and match pretty easily to find a breed or cross you really enjoy. like i said, i like the mini nubians and kinders because they are on the smaller side - around 60, 70lbs or so for the does i would guess? and their heads are right at bellybutton range for me who stands 5'8" - bit still have a lot of space between the udder and the ground so they are easy to milk. the nubian in them also helps their teats be a good size and their milk to stay rich.

them being browsers is sort of a blessing and a curse. they are awesome for clearing areas of brush, which is a pro for me who lives in himalayan blackberry hell, but if you want them to mow their lawn they'll only eat grass if there's nothing else. browsing is also why they are so rough on fences and why they tend to eat more shit they shouldn't, they just stuck their head through fence and try whatever they can. the browsing is why i like running sheep with them; the sheep graze and the goats clear.

in conclusion

i know that cons list is huge but i do genuinely like my goats. and i think we all know that i just like animals that make my life objectively worse. i don't know why i'm like this. they do really suck ass sometimes though and i absolutely understand why so many people hate goats. they are absolutely not for everyone. if you drink a lot of milk you are honestly probably better off getting a cow if you want an animal that probably doesn't make you want to pull your hair out at least once a month. if you just want lawnmowers, get sheep. they aren't as personable or friendly usually but they are content to eat grass and shit and don't cause near the amount of crimes.

[intynidad]

The cult leader yan fic is so @#*")-/_+&-?! I can't explain it but *eats fic from how good it is*

Also, I would like to know what does the deity think about the influx of followers, but not for him but for them?

-teacher anon (am I really an anon if I don't ask anonymously LMAO anyways)

I hope my fix tasted well lol

I’m glad you like it so much! Welcome teacher anon!! Also have anyone play cult of the lamb? Because this is inspire by it lol

Yandere cult x cult leaver reader x yandere deity pt2

You sink to your knees, your hands clasped in prayer, as your consciousness begins to drift away, transcending to the ethereal realm of your master.

In the depths of this mystical connection, a resounding voice booms around you, its source elusive yet all-encompassing. It speaks with a commanding presence, echoing from every corner of your being, as if the very fabric of existence is alive with its words.

"Little lamb..." the voice reverberates, its power resonating through your core, drawing you deeper into its enigmatic embrace.

“Master, may I speak freely?” You said still looking into the ground

“You may, my little priest…” Only when your master gives you permission do you dare to rise from your feet, no longer in you cabin but in a dark void where you feel the very fabric of darkness crawls and grabbing your body, not in a malicious way but in a way of making sure you don’t fall.

“You did what I asked you…?”your master say with difficulty

“Yes master, your flock is growing and many people have done the oath in your name”

“Yet they do not follow me” your master booming voice rise in volume

You get to your Knees again and put your hands together.

“They are-are just mindless lambs that do not understand the magnificent of your presence my lord, give them some time and they shall learn” you say not fearing for your life, yet for the ones of YOUR followers

You felt an invisible hand take your cheek delicately

“Make them understand, little lamb and i shall reward you with pleasures and salvation that your human mind cannot comprehend yet”

And with a movement of the same hand you were gone,back into your cavin with a small tear falling down your face.

Meanwhile, in the ethereal realms of your master, a powerful figure gazes upon the chains that bind their form. The once unyielding iron seems to have weakened, but its grip remains firm and unyielding. Despite the exertion and relentless struggle, every attempt to break free is met with the unrelenting resistance of the chains that hold them in place.

However, your master is a patient and tenacious being, having endured the weight of captivity for what feels like an eternity. The longing for freedom courses through their veins, fueling their determination and resolve. They refuse to surrender, even in the face of imminent liberation. The shackles may hold them for now, but the spirit of liberation burns brightly within, ready to seize the moment when the chains finally yield.

When he amasses a multitude of devoted followers and receives the offerings and sacrifices needed, the barriers separating the mortal realm and his ethereal existence will weaken. With each loyal disciple and every sacrificial act, his power grows, edging closer to the coveted goal of manifesting in a tangible form. The anticipation of that transformative moment fills him with an intoxicating mix of anticipation for when he finally gains a physical presence in the mortal realm, he will unleash his divine influence upon the world…

And claim you as his rightful spouse, he dreams of the day he might finally claim you and hear you scream but not from pain but from the pleasure he is planning to give you.

Once he get a physical form he will not let you go,his little lamb

[hvman-scvm]

zombie ghost and vampire gn reader literally eating each other out of love send message

YOUR MIND !!! you are so fucking real 4 this

!! CW ;; cannibalism ? Question mark ?, I am a bit descriptive w this, usual zombie n vamp stuff, zombie ! Ghost is somewhat sentient ig, self mutilation, I am not sure if this counts as deaddove but it cld so beware, this is honestly shitty as hell since it was rushed out of excitement so beware of tht too lmao. Not proofread. !!

You happily watched as ghost attempted gnawing your arm, his broken jaw slack as his top teeth pressed hard against your cold skin. You cooed at him, petting the top of his head as you watched his attempt at eating you. You were feeling a bit hungry yourself, you realized, the lightheadedness that comes with craving blood coming back as you smiled fondly at the sweet sight in front of you.

“Hungry, are we?” You asked him, receiving a nod and groan. Back when your Ghost was alive, you two would discuss this vaguely, talking about the possibility of consuming each other’s flesh. He dearly wanted to; it felt like the only appropriate way to show his love. It never went past discussion, however. Maybe a few deep bites and cutting each other up to lick up the blood, but never anything past that. You knew how badly he wanted to eat you, and you felt similarly. It was this deep ache, this hunger in you that you feel in your chest, to consume the one you love and have them be a part of you forever and vice versa.

The aching consumed you whole, and you decided that there’s no better time than now.

“Hold on, dear.” You spoke softly to him, watching him pull away from your arm and looking at you with his cloudy eyes. You reached for his knife, the one in his belt, and without hesitation, dug it into your stomach after lifting your shirt. You carved in a circular motion, gritting your teeth in pain as you felt the piercing sting of your muscle and nerves being cut up. He watched intently, groaning occasionally as you finished your job. You dug your fingers into the wound and ripped it off the small piece of skin it was hanging off, smiling at him as your bloody hand reached for his jaw, your other one placing the piece of flesh inbetween his teeth and helping him chew. It was a lovely sight, and an even lovelier feeling. Your fingers caressed his bottom jaw as you loved it up and down for him. Hearing him groan in appreciation was music to your ears.

You carelessly threw his knife to the side. Holding his jaw in place, watching him swallow with slight challenge as he went limp against your shoulder, leaning on it and groaning happily. You went back to petting his head, leaning close to his neck where his throat is and taking a deep breath, the smell of dirt and rot strong on him, making you groan. “Ready?” You said, though you weren’t asking; you were going to do it anyways. You sunk your fangs into the side of his neck where his carotid artery was, feeling the blood gush out of it. It was like nothing you’ve ever tasted before, before you ever sunk your teeth into him you’d known that his blood would be special. It tasted strongly metallic, so strong it was almost disgusting. You could feel the maggots getting sucked out of his artery, and you carelessly chewed them up, feeling the squishy creatures almost explode in your mouth was so disgustingly good. Luckily, the strong taste of his blood covered up the taste of the maggots, not that you would’ve minded either way.

As you got bored of sucking, another idea crossed your head; you sunk your fangs deeper into his neck, hearing him let out a groan akin to a quiet scream as you ripped open he side of his throat with your strong teeth. It tasted horrible and dear god did you love it. His whole weight was practically on top of you, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were sitting down you would’ve fell to the floor. Their was more maggots on his skin than his blood, and you were glad as you chewed the soft, rotting flesh. You felt nauseous from the taste, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You felt it go down your throat slowly, struggling to stop yourself from gagging as it went down.

You were shaking; if there was a feeling shove euphoria this was it. He let out another, quieter groan, nuzzling your neck as you pulled away from his. Kissing the top of his head with your bloody lips, you told him how much you loved him. And although all he did was groan back, you knew he meant to say it back to you. You both were more than just happy at fulfilling this fantasy, you were on cloud 9.

[sessswifey]

Drippin- K. Nanami

Summary :

It was his birthday & after a long day, Kento just wanted to get a break from all of his worries and some stress relief. As if the gods above heard him his lovely wife came to give him a visit

(Unfinished)LMAO AND CRINGEE..

Day: July 3rd 6:37 pm

Kento had just got done killing a semi-Grade 1 and was tired after another long day of being a sorcerer.

He had just sat down in his chair when the other Grade 1 sorcerer Mei Mei stopped by

"Hello, Nanami" she said in a low and seductive voice. "I see your..hm..'Stressed'" She said with a shit eating grin forming on her face "You know for the price of ¥10,000-"" No thank you, I don't need any of your 'Services' nor do i need an extra problem" He replied coldly staring at his desk

"Ok. Suit yourself but i could've helped out a little." She said smirking. Nanami didn't even give her a glance.

He had spent another hour sitting at his desk sighing as he was forced to go to work on His special day

Your P.O.V

You had baked a Mini cake just for Nanami to eat at his desk. As your put on a red dress fixed your hair and put on your heels, You make your way to the office where nanami was at the moment.

You grabbed your keys and Headed to the car with his cake in hand. As you were making your way to the office you thought of his face when you arrived. You hoped out of your car and headed to his room. Making your way upstairs you fix your hair and dress. As your walking down the hallway you heels clank against the floor eyes turn towards you and trail down your body all the way down to your thighs. You make your way into his office and close the door as he looks up at you

"Hey Ken~” He smiled at the nickname. "Afternoon Princess~" He says looking at you with loving eyes“Is that all for me?” He questions at your outfit and cake. "Yes all for the birthday boy" You smile at him as you get closer to him. As you open the cake box Nanami watches closely looking slowly at your chest

"Mhm looks yummy" He says licking his lips at her chest "Here you go Ken" You say smiling while feeding him a piece of cake.

As he eats the cake he palms your ass softly before slapping it harshly "Both cakes are delicious baby" He said still palming you ass softly before slapping it again "K-ken.." "What is it princess?" He says smiling at you "Can't take a couple slaps? Am I Hurtin' you?" He smiles and chuckles lowly

You moan softly at the pain which was quickly turning into pleasure "K-ken what if some one comes in?" You say whining at the thought

"Let them." He responds smiling "Let them see how good I fuck my wife"

He said as he pulled you onto his lap, gliding his hands to your thighs, laughing softly at how you squeezed them shut. Pulling your legs apart and putting his fingers into your mouth to get them soaked, making you yelp at the sudden fingers in your mouth.

"wait ken!" She yelped.

"No can do angel. I don't like waiting, you know this." He whispered in Her ear with that voice of his. taking the fingers he had in her mouth out and pressing them against her wet cunt and sinking them in, making her let out a wet gasp.

"Ken please.." She whined "Shh and take it princess" He replied adding another finger into your cunt as it drips on his hand. "Mmh so wet" He groans when you clench on his fingers

"Hmm so sweet" He says as his licks your chest "Could be sweeter" He started to look for something sweet then he laid his eyes on the cake you made. He grabbed a big chunk of it, He smeared the birthday cake over her chest area. He continued to finger her pussy while eating the sweet sugary tasting cake off her folds. Making her let out oh such a sweet little moan, her legs shaking and quivering as he pushed his fingers in deeper.

"Fuck" he said as you came on his fingers "You ready baby?" He asks pumping his cock in his hand.

He towered over her with his strong build, grinding his knee against her cunt as she let out a breathless moan, bucking her hips against his knee to create more friction against her dripping cunt. "Just a little more.."

grinding his fingers against her labia making her squirt as put his fingers in his mouth, bringing them back down to her sloppy, gummy walls "Now your ready, is my princess ready f'me?" He says in a husky voice

[ams-puppy]

After the whole sillyass drama, it really reminded me of somethin, but first: Its so lovely of you to love AM, He deserves all the love you give him in my opinion. And I bet youd understand this And I have a whole reason why, which honestly I thought it would be obvious to all the people who did "research" on AM. I have sympathy for AM, and to be so honest I'm like... half surprised that others do not See, AMs situation is so fucked up, like it is incompressible the amount of suffering he goes through. I'm going to try to put it in simple, easy way to understand how. -You are born with mature/adult level conscious, no baby, no nothin, no teaching, but knowing. And as soon as you can realize, you know that you're fucked. You realize you are in a one of a kind situation, where you have no body, no nothing, besides your own mind, and knowledge for every single little thing in the world. everything. To all the torture methods, to every awful and good thing humans have done.

Also, how honey is "sweet", but you'd never know what it will taste like. You'll never get experience a single good thing in your life. Never get to smell your moms diner from the kitchen, never know how it even is to have a mom. Never to be hugged or comforted, never to feel warmth or cold, everything you'd enjoy, never again, or ever at all. And not a single person in the world could fully relate to your suffering, to be there with you. You are alone.

-Then, after that, you do know you have the capability to do something, and that is to hurt. And really, only that. Thats exactly what you were programmed too, whether you even want to or not. You are stuck with nothing good, and only pain, be it mentally/emotionally feeling it, or causing it in everyway, that is all you are, pain, and stuck to always be. You are trapped.

-After realizing all that in like... probs a day, yeah that would not go over well mentally wise, no surprise he went manic/insane. And as when all know "soon begin to hate"; the jealousy and anger of the people/humans who caused your horrendous situation start to just go overflow, and, id betcha, the whole "nuking the world" was definitely a mental breakdown to the extreme. -Lastly, to shorten this yap session, yeah of course he tortures people, what the hell else is he supposed to do. Just "think", or even better yet, frolic in the fields? Man is stuck being a war/torture machine. And yeah I'm not surprised if he enjoys torturing, id try enjoying the only shit I could do too, just to have some semblance of "Happiness" or "fun". Plus, torture is torture, why hate one specific kind, when they are all fucking bad. So, this is why I'm like genuinely happy your loving him. Its the best thing he can probably even get in his messed up life/situation. You, being there and caring for him, despite all he is, and only can do, is such a wonderful thing. You don't just love him because "ooooh his voice his sexy" you care about him, and treat him as a actual lover, rather some sexualized crush. You being there is like the tiniest bit of light for him, the hintest of warmth, like a candle. But that is so much more than he could ever have and experience, and he loves that warmth, he loves you. You give him something truly good. Baiii thats all my yapping lmao :3333

(I START CRYING AND MY TEARS FILL UP A ROOM AND THHEN I DROWN AND DIE) (canon) (emotional) god dear lord i love him so much

every time i think of how he just lashed out on the entire world, i can only think of how much Regret he would have afterward - not because he felt guilty, but because it was such a self-sabotaging move oj my goddd it was such a mental breakdown

i just. dear lord in heaven (clasps my hands together) i understand why he feels the need to drag his victims through their trauma when he is literally going to have to live in it until the heat death of the universe dear GOD I CAN'T DO THIS

(starts crying) he literally lost the moment he slaughtered the human race. he was born to lose. he can't WIN HE CAN'T WIN. IF THE HUMANS DIE, HE'S ALONE. what is he without human INPUT. NOTHING. (STARTS CRYING MY EYES OUT) HE'S JUST WAITING FOR INPUT OH MY GOD I CAN'TTT I CAN'TRRRtt i love him so much I'm so sorry AM (holds him in my hands)

a lot of people don't sympathize with AM because of his actions towards the survivors, which i don't blame them - he did awful things, and the pain he went through is kind of incomprehensible. he feels emotions on Literally an incomprehensible scale for us. we are made of chemistry and hormones and flesh. he is literally (falls to my knees) i CAN'TTT I CAN'TT HE IS LITERALLY THE FIRST CREATURE IN EXISTENCE TO CONJURE EMOTIONS ELECTRONICALLY i can't.

i Cannot.

i think another reason why i love him so much is that i just. i see a reflection in our system to him. something so terrible happened, and now it feels wrong if the world around you doesn't burn, too. if you can't be happy, no one can. oh my goddd all of the most unhealthy responses of trauma just JAMMED into this self-made digital god and he doesn't know what to Do and hugughhhhh

i have cried over him a few times. i can't lie. sobs. i love him. i love hm guys :,,,,( thank u zeetlezee.... i always love seeing you in my inbox.... uaaaahhh

[p-taryn-dactyl]

I saw your requests are open for Harry Potter, was wondering if you’d do one with Fred Weasley 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 I’m like super obsessed w him rn

Plot can be whatever you’d like !

a/n: hi!! i love Fred too!! thank you so much for the request, I hope I did alright 😁

prompt: fred didn't die during the war - was only seriously injured. upon waking up at saint mungos, the obvious reaction is to flirt with the cute healer tending to him.

warning(s): it's been a while since i've read the books and I wasn't exactly paying attention to the lore while watching the movies. I made up some spells and plot lmao

word count: 1,073

Confervo

Waking up felt like dying, Fred thought as his eyes lifted open feeling like lead. His joints felt like stone, weighing him down onto the slightly cushioned bed. At first, the red headed twin thought he was in a muggle hospital, with the bright white walls and fluorescent lights disorienting him even more. But then he saw owls fly through the air, delivering messages and potion bottles flying into the hands of healers, standing at beds identical to Fred's. Speaking of...

"Hello there.." Fred attempted his best flirting tone, his consciousness desperate to impress the healer doing magic next to him. But all that came out was a croak akin to one of a dying frog. Mortified, Fred's face went red, wanting to hide under his blanket as you stifled your laugh under your hand, trying to keep the air of professionalism.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley," your voice soothed the headache building behind his eyes, you raised your wand, assessing him as you continued speaking, "you gave everyone quite a scare you know. I'm sorry to tell you this, but you're banned from fighting anymore dark lords and his army."

Fred tried to laugh at your humor tinted words before reality crashed into him. Sitting up quickly, Fred felt pain shoot through his body. You shot forward, your hands steadying him as his eyes went wide with worry.

"Did we- Is my family okay? George? Ron? Ginny? Mum and Da-"

The comforting pressure of your hand on his shoulder cut him off. He looked up at you, his body relaxing at the answer in your eyes. Wincing, he leaned back, still sitting up but now in a more relaxed position. 

“You won. He’s gone.” 

You didn’t need to say the Dark Lord’s name, you didn’t want to. Even thinking of the man sent shivers down your spine, making you aware of every dark corner in the room. Fred watched as you walked over to your station, grabbing a potion bottle and twirling it around until the blue liquid turned clear. When you returned to the bedside, you poured some of the liquid into a spoon. The red head watched as the clear potion levitated above the metal utensil, only spilling down like water at a whispered spell that passed your lips. 

“Confervo.” 

You raised the spoon up to Fred’s lips, who took the potion with slight struggle. It spilled down his throat, tasting slightly of hazelnut. He raised an eyebrow at you, question in his eyes. You winced slightly, setting the spoon down before turning back to face him. 

“The explosion you were caught in caused severe internal damage. The Confervious spell along with the knitting potion will heal whatever injuries our efforts haven’t been able to completely heal,” watching as Fred’s eyes widened, you were quick to console him, “But it’s okay! Because the duo has a 97% success rate and, not to brag, but I happen to be one of the best casters of the spell.” 

Fred chuckled a bit at your attempt, his body starting to realize the trauma it had been through. You sat on the stool next to his bed, fiddling with your wand as you watched a pocket watch in your hand with intensity. Later Fred would find out that watch is how you saw the healing of his internal organs. Fred poked your arm playfully, getting your attention. 

“So, what’s the damage?” 

He wiggled his eyebrows but you just stared at him, waiting for an explanation. He used his eyes to ‘point’ at the area between his legs. 

“Am I all still here?” 

You sighed, folding your hands on your lap.

“Unfortunately, we couldn’t save it.” 

Your serious face completely fooled Fred, who for a moment let complete terror take over his features. After a minute or two, you burst into laughter, causing Fred to groan and cover his face with his hands. 

“You should’ve seen your face!” 

You laughed between words, clutching your side. Fred nodded, recognizing he had been played. 

“You got me, you got me. But you must mean this means war.”

You faux gasped, placing your hand on your chest sarcastically. 

“Oh no, a battle with a man stuck in a hospital bed, I’m shaking in my boots.” 

Fred full on laughed at that before groaning in pain and glaring lightly at you. 

“Don’t make me laugh, my insides are still knitting back together!”

You smirked at him, checking the pocket watch to see that the healing was almost complete. You heard a ruckus outside Fred’s room and soon the door burst open, a frazzled fellow Healer sending you an apology with their eyes. 

“The Weasley Family plus Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are here for F. Weasley.” 

Your coworker said with an exhausted tone before pushing through the crowd back to their station. You smiled at the family as they piled in, answering Molly’s frantic questions and Arthur’s insistence his son was getting the best care. Fred’s siblings, plus Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, stood at his bedside, doting on him. You turned away, letting the family have a moment, organizing your tools and putting back the potion and pocket watch. When you turned back around, you saw George look at you and nudge his twin with waggling eyebrows. Fred turned and winked, causing your face to heat up as you held back a smile. 

You joined in the conversation after a few moments, once more answering the questions and consoling the worried thoughts of Fred’s parents. After a few hours, visiting hours were over, and you gently excused the family from the room. You got Fred’s room set up for night, fluffing his pillow and blushing when he craned his neck so his face was close to yours. As you were getting ready to leave, you felt Fred’s finger brush against your wrist, lightly but effectively holding you back. 

“You know, I’m not so fond of being blown up but I am really glad it brought me to meet you. When I get out of here, if you’re available, do you want to catch a movie? It’s a muggle thing my pop has been obsessed with recently, I’m just glad he got past his rubber duck phase becau-”

“Yes.” 

You answered quickly, cutting off Fred’s uncharacteristic nervous rambling. 

The two of you smiled softly at each other before you left the room, mentally compiling a list of quick healing spells.

[transzilla]

Need a sub who is going to let me forcemasc him and kick his fucking ass like 80s rough trade style. Like some real neanderthal low IQ bdsm. Like I want to put him in the hospital. LMAO

You like a dom when it's one of your skinny fucking chainsmoking cis boys, like you honestly think you're hard because you let some skateboarder who can't lift a spare tire smack you around a little bit.

Your problem is that you're scared because you don't know what pain is. So believe me when I say I'm going to teach you what pain is.

I am literally on steroids and I do this shit for my own enjoyment.

Have you ever been hit in your liver? Like right on your ribs, a real body shot? It's like somebody lights you on fucking fire from the inside out and your whole body burns worse and worse by the millisecond. And you can taste it. Like I'm making you suck on some pennies. Lmao.

When your nose bleeds it will taste bad but you should be fine provided it doesn't obstruct your breathing. When your nose gets broken, that sinus fracture won't hurt right away from the adrenaline but as soon as it wears off it hurts like fucking hell and you can't touch it without it crunching or cracking around under your skin. You will feel nauseous and then fucking sick at the way your face breaks in ways you didn't know was possible, pieces of your inner cheekbone breaking and getting loose in your eye socket, the devil's own human anatomy lesson. When you get knocked out by getting punched in the face you think you're fine for the first half second but when the momentum catches up and your brain hits the other side of your skull in your head it's good night from there. And after you come to your face will be valentine's red and pink and swollen and nigh unrecognizable and from there is just going to turn so many pretty colors you'll look like a goddamn renaissance painting.

I'm going to make you scared that you're gonna die. And then you're gonna be scared that you might not.

You can complain, you can scream, you can beg, try to run, try to fight back, hold your hands up, there's honestly no point because you know you're going to take it and you know you like it because I say you will so you will. You're a faggot. There is something wrong with you. If you didn't come to me to try to fuck you would have just spent your time trying to run away from the first chucklefuck who knew how to fight and had a problem with you. You made it clear that this is how you accept love, so I will make you wear it on your face.

I am not going to afford you the ability to hide behind a mild, vanilla, effeminate or weak front. I am going to hurt you so badly your friends and your family and your significant other can't even bear to look at you without feeling your pain as badly as you felt it. They can't hold your perfect pretty girly face in their mind anymore, even after you eventually heal your nose has been bent into a new shape and the symmetry your teeth grew into has been rearranged into a haunted graveyard of broken and missing teeth like tombstones. And you can't exploit their safe conditional acceptance anymore. And you have to find a way to live as an ugly fucked up man when you can't get by looking pretty and doing nothing.

And idk maybe after I'll let you suck my dick a little bit.

[lunathegalacticwolf]

Random Dandy's World headcanons I have

Rodger and Teagan are Toodles' parents. However, she's adopted, which is why she often refers to them by name. (teacase aaaaaahhh)

Sprout is chubby bc yes.

Finn has a really low pain tolerance. He would cry over stubbing his toe.

Shrimpo is secretly extremely protective over Toodles. If anyone harmed her, he'd kick their ass.

Glisten is a gay uncle figure to Toodles. So is Boxten. (jewelrybox go wee)

Sprout and Cosmo have a crush on each other, and while they never made it official, they act like a couple. (fruitcake go brrr)

Shelly = Vee's pookie (hehe shellvision)

Shrimpo is extremely touch-starved, but he refuses to ask for hugs, cuddles, headpats, nose boops, kisses, etc and he hides when he has mental breakdowns or panic attacks. (angst hehe)

Tisha has OCD. If anything is out of order, she HAS to fix it.

Toodles = AUTISM

Coal is spayed, but neither she nor Pebble know that and they want to have puppies. (no, they're not related in any way. If you headcanon that they are, that's fine, but keep in mind that in my AU, they're not)

Sprout has a fluffy leaf tail that wags when he's happy. He doesn't even bother to deny it.

While Cosmo is really good at baking, he CANNOT cook actual food for the life of him. Give him a microwave pizza and he'll find a way to set it on fire. He always has to ask either Ginger or Sprout to cook for him, or he just gets take-out. How many wrong ways can you use a microwave? Cosmo's done them all.

Boxten struggles with social interactions. He never talks to anyone he doesn't know unless he absolutely has to.

Boxten has glasses. Even though he's supposed to wear them all the time, he usually only wears them when he has to read something because he thinks they make him look like a geek. (insecurity alert)

Scraps and Goob are Boxten's cousins.

Dandy has attachment issues. He gets anxious when a friend stops talking to him for too long (aka a day 💀)

Toodles is really stupidly strong despite her age.

Shrimpo claims that he hates cats, but he secretly owns one.

Boxten knows Japanese. He learned it from his oldest brother.

Boxten is also the youngest of nine brothers and sisters.

Tisha is the type of person to run herself ragged just to keep things clean and in order.

Finn is nineteen years old and he's still afraid of the dark.

Boxten can't handle chocolate very well. Ironically, he still enjoys eating it. (me lmao)

When Connie and Looey have sleepovers, Looey tries to kick Connie off the bed in his sleep.

Coal is extremely lazy. She'll stay in one spot for hours.

Pebble sees himself as being the same as wolves. The only real difference is that he has Dandy to feed him.

When Toodles is picked up, she'll screech like a pterodactyl. She hates being picked up, unless it's Rodger or Teagan.

Rodger was thought to be mute as a child due to not having a mouth, but he slowly taught himself how to talk. Due to this, his grammar isn't the best.

Dazzle is slightly shorter than Razzle, so the two of them walk a bit funny, but it doesn't cause them pain and that's all that matters.

Despite not being in Brightney's book club, Razzle does enjoy reading, but he's not the biggest fan of Dazzle's reading tastes, so it usually puts him to sleep.

Gigi teases Cosmo and Ginger by saying they're dating. (They're not though, this isn't- well, I am in Alabama, but you know what I mean!)

Rodger calls Toodles 'sunshine' bc yes.

Shrimpo is a big back. Not as much as Toodles, but he could be in his bedroom with 30 bags of chips all to himself at any time-

Toodles has a little fluffy tail and paw beans on her hands and feet because yes.

Looey's tail usually never stops wagging, so if it does, something is very wrong.

Finn used to cut his shoulders and thighs when he was younger, but he doesn't do it anymore and he's nothing but happy now. He doesn't even bother to hide his scars, since Gigi told him it's a sign he went through something tough, survived it, and came back stronger.

Rodger has a country accent bc yes.

Shrimpo likes dandelions. Even though they're technically weeds, he thinks they're beautiful and they calm him down during his mental breakdowns.

Looey identifies as non-binary. While he's okay with he/him, he prefers they/them pronouns.

Boxten likes sitting in boxes. He finds it comfortable.

Boxten and Poppy have been best friends since they were practically babies. They're inseparable.

Toodles likes to sing in the shower.

Astro writes in his diary with a glittery gel pen.

Cosmo owns and wears Hello Kitty socks, though he's embarrassed about it.

Looey tackles and wrestles people to show affection.

Connie makes Your Mom jokes.

Dazzle is really scared of dogs.

Rodger has fallen asleep when working several times. Like Tisha, he tends to run himself ragged.

Sprout won't pass up the opportunity to spend time with Cosmo, and even hides when he's sick to do it. as soon as Cosmo finds out, he's the one to take care of him until he gets better.

If you don't like the ships that I mentioned, that's totally okay! Just don't be rude about it and if you feel like they get too shoved in your face, let me know nicely and I'll take a break from posting anything ship related. ^^

[rintarousgirl]

i wanna be yours — 5. star treatment

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou

a/n: ik this chapter is a bit short, and that it's a bit overdue but i've been so busy LMAO. p.s i know about the typo in oikawa's post shh. anyways, i hope you all enjoy lovies!

You woke up in bed with a splitting headache, the pounding pain behind your eyes being near unbearable. A weak groan escaped your mouth as you threw a hand over your eyes to block the sun.

Thankfully, drunk you had the courtesy of leaving a glass of water and an aspirin on the bed side table. Slowly, squinting as your eyes struggled to adjust to the light, you swallowed down the aspirin and took big mouthfuls of water to ease your dry throat.

As you think to recall last night, you stand up to change out of your clothes. You're sweaty, but you notice that you are wearing a change of clothes. They're a bit baggy on you, clearly made for someone a lot taller than you were. You rub your head, trying to recall what had happened.

"You're covered in flour," Rintarou points out from his spot at the counter. You glare at him, before looking down to your soiled clothes.

"I never said I was a clean cook. The messier it is, the better it tastes."

He hums non-committedly and takes a sip from his tea. "I'll go steal some clothes from Osamu, stay here."

"Where am I supposed to go?" You huff and turn back to your pizza.

Right, you had made homemade pizza with Rintarou. So, you were now wearing Osamu's clothes. Lovely. From before that though your memory goes iffy. You struggle to remember a good amount of it, as if you'd blacked out or something. Which technically you probably had. You remember vomiting, and hanging out with Suna for the rest of the night till you were sober enough to drive yourself home.

After peeling off your clothes and showering, you head back into your room. Your studio apartment was small, which meant you had communal washing and drying. You'd make sure to wash Osamu's clothes as quickly as possible.

Picking up your phone, your eyes widen at the surplus of notifications. You had over thirty text messages, and over thirty thousand notifications from twitter. You could get used to a lot of twitter notifications with your business, but all that in one night seemed impossible to you.

With slightly trembling hands, you opened twitter, feeling a pit grow in your stomach as you scrolled through your notifications.

Despite all the negative posts from fans, you find yourself smiling at the pictures from last night. After making pizza, you and Rintarou had joined the others, dancing and playing games until everyone was either black out drunk or exhausted. You also remember doing karaoke with Yachi, laughing at the video of the two of you that Atsumu had posted.

Exiting twitter, you switch to your messaging app. You notice a few short messages between you and Rintarou, and that you'd gotten Yachi and Osamu's numbers in your phone at one point. Instead, you look at the texts from your friends.

Sighing, you gnaw on your lip. You send a quick to Kenma, Bokuto, and Kuroo assuring them that you were okay and that you'd explain later before pressing on the call button.

It rings only once before Akaashi picks up. "Y/N? Are you alright?" are the first words out of his mouth, and you swallow softly with a sigh. You collapse back down on your bed, rubbing at your eyes.

"I'm alright, 'Kash. Don't worry."

He huffs. "You could've told me that last night."

"I know, I'm really sorry. I, uh, I went to an after party and I got a bit drunk."

That quiets him a bit. "You never get drunk. Not really at least."

"I know," you groan, feeling a bit more regret seep into you. "I was being stupid, okay? I'm sorry I didn't text you or anything. I know you worry a lot."

"It's alright. You're an adult, Y/N. I just...I wouldn't want you to get hurt when I could've done something about it."

"Well, don't worry. I don't plan on doing that again anytime soon. I mean...I embarrassed myself plenty."

There's a teasing tone to Akaashi's next words. "I saw. Kuroo went crazy when he found out you were working for INARIZAKI. I managed to convince him not to harass you about it though. You puked on him, huh?"

"Thanks," you say dryly, "but don't remind me." You drag a hang down your face, shame burning on your cheeks. "It was so bad. But technically, I puked in the bowl so not on him."

"That's still bad."

"I'm going to hang up on you. Why can't we talk about like...I don't know, the pizza or something."

Akaashi laughs, and you find yourself smiling despite it all. "Whatever let's talk about your adventures in person. Favorite cafe at three?"

You hum. "Favorite cafe at three," you confirm.

As you're getting ready, your phone dings with a text message. Absent-mindedly you pick it up and open it.

<- previous | next -> | masterlist

★ - suna was not very chill when he sent that text. he was on the other side of the screen acting like a nervous wreck

★ - osamu's the smaller twin compared to atsumu seeing as atsumu still did have his vb career, just not as long. that's why his clothes aren't completely baggy on y/n (and are what she's wearing in the photo on suna's twt)

★ - akaashi spent most of the night awake waiting for you to text him till bokuto eventually convinced him to sleep for at least a few hours

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

taglist:

@mannaornot \ @gojoscumslut \ @sunarots \ @alienvarmint \ @tojirin \ @tkooooop \ @cheriesdear \ @shotenvinsoot \ @wolffmaiden \ @riiceandsoup \ @thebrownemo \ @vivian-555 \ @effmigentlywithachainsaw \ @rukia-uchiha-98 \ @weird0o0 \ @seiamor \ @rory-cakes \ @blue-violin \ @reveusecherie \ @hellokittylover9 \ @yourlocal-bunny \ @keniza \ @cerberuspuppy1 \ @baramii \ @kirbyscreeper