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jjkeremika · 3 months

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AoT men Vices

description: sex, drugs, cigarettes, and, well, you.

pairing: eren, armin, zeke, levi, reiner, jean (x fem!reader)

disclaimer/warning(s)?: stoner eren; oral(fem receiving); drinker zeke; groping; slutty levi; penetration; smoker reiner; rope play; gambler armin; fingering; jealous jean; choking; nsfwwwww

eren

• always high on weed/dabs/carts/edibles (doesn’t matter)

• his pale skin and green irises only accentuated the faint red tinge in the whites of his eyes, like a light blood splatter on american money

• hes tormented!! cut him a little slack. its not his fault his dad gave him the worst type ii bipolar disorder and narcissistic personality disorder a clinician’s ever seen

• gets horrendously horny when he’s high around you, starts touching and holding and kissing and biting you to get and keep your attention

• chews on his fingernails, jitters his legs, and licks and bites his lips as he stares at you, as he feels himself getting harder and harder at the thought of you getting wetter and wetter

• whines about how his throat is dry and he needs to taste you, to drink the liquid sliding out of you, until his tongue and jaw were cramping and his mouth was sore

• will pull you into his lap, gnaw on your shoulder and the lobe of your ear as his hands creep down your abdomen towards the source of the wet stain forming on his lap

• his voice lowers an octave as he begs to touch and taste you, as he asks if his hands and lips inching closer to your crotch is allowed and okay because he so desperately craves your approval

• “oh, baby, please, baby, only you can fix my dry mouth with your wet, pretty fucking pussy, god, baby, please, i’m so thirsty”

• moans so fucking loud when you finally give in and let him lick your clit, his fingers eagerly digging into your thighs as he pulls you so, so much closer, until there’s no air between his mouth and your skin

• devolves into demanding that you ride his face, hop and slide on his mouth with your shiny thick thighs with absolutely no hesitation, no regard for his lungs

zeke

• sad king who drinks most nights

• a gin and tonic or scotch on the rocks kind of man. likes the burn at the back of his throat on the way down

• confessed a similar reason to why he swims; liking the burning ache in his lungs when he holds his breath under the water. reminds him he’s alive

• has a poor relationship with his parents and half-brother. wants and sometimes tries to reconcile but he’s not really a people-person and he struggles to forgive

• divulges to you about his neglected dreams and pile of regrets, over analyzes situations until it all feels hopeless and meaningless

• holds you closer and tighter, at first because he’s fighting tears but then because he’s overcome with pure devotion because you’re here, with him, comforting him, every time

• and he’s certain you have so many other places you could be and more interesting people you can be with and yet you’re holding him too

• tells you that you mean the world to him, that he’s hopeless without you, that you give him something to smile and dream about, that he’d be nothing without you

• he’ll hold your wrists behind your back with one large hand and hold your neck with the other, prying your lips apart and re-introducing your tongues to each other, like he does every other night

• his hands roam as you kiss, his fingernails lightly tracing the goosebumps on your skin to the tail of your spine, the other hand following the curves of your ribcage to where your breast naturally interrupted

• “oh, i love your body, i live to please you, i live for you,” he’ll murmur for the thousandth time against your tongue as his long fingers clasp around your fleshy boob, squeezing with a fearful hold that you’ll pull away and leave him like everyone else

levi

• sex. with you. a lot.

• he doesn’t talk about his feelings or explain his emotions. there are no conversations about his past and his future. they all start one sided, and end in sex

• it’s a cop out. he knows it, you know it, but it’s so fucking good you don’t really care

• every time you try to ask about his family, his friends, his career, or even if he thinks there’s a future between you two, he’s avoiding the question and shoving his tongue down your throat

• he keeps his hand around your neck as he kisses you insistently, as he tries to kiss you until you’re dizzy and you forgot that he was trying to distract you in the first place

• gets needy and wanting, turning you around, stripping you, and bending you over before you could say a word

• impatient and selfish. he drops some lube into his palm and slicks his own cock up, shoving two or three fingers in you for short, to-be-desired thrusts before he’s gasping over you and inching the tip to your exposed muscles

• he chortles airily at the hearty moan you release once he presses inside, the euphoria encompassing his dick and shipping through his bloodstream

• he practically bends you in half, arranging you so he’s pounding into your pussy with your ass presented to his face and your own face shoved into a pillow, mascara and eyeshadow staining into the sheets at the growing desirable ache in your abdomen

• smacks your ass until his handprint is visible as he relentlessly shoves himself inside you, as he gives you every inch of muscle control and strength he has

reiner

• chronic cigarette smoker

• built balcony and patio attachments to your house so he could easily step outside

• you watched him build them shirtless and sweaty, a lighter tucked loosely in his low cut pant pockets and a cigarette lightly held behind his ear

• tries his best to cover the sour tobacco smell with rustic vanilla or mahogany colognes. up for debate when it worked, but the mix of scents really could be oddly pleasant sometimes

• he’s haunted by regrets he won’t even tell you about. doesn’t want to burden you, or rather burden himself with the knowledge that then you’d know too, and there really would be no running away

• you could see them as shadows behind his glassy eyes, always lingering when the lights were on and engulfing him in the dark

• you took it upon yourself to lift his moods, to break him free from the thought patterns that kept him chained to his lot in life

• brought the metaphor to life and bought handcuffs and rope, tied and locked his ankles and wrists to the bedposts, his vulnerability on full display

• his whole body was blushed pink as you gingerly caressed him, crawled up and down his rigid muscular body and ran your sharp fingernails and tongue down his center

• you reminded him he was chained down when he abruptly reached up and out for you, his wrists aggressively slapping back against the mattress or his legs threatening to break the post with fast squirms

• like a wolf chasing after a rabbit, reiner huffed and drooled over you and the sexy shapes you made with your hips as you wiggled all over him, grinded against him and relished in the whines and begs to be released from his holds and touch you

armin

• first got into gambling when eren convinced him to go to a casino for his 21st birthday

• and while the huge crowds and loud noises and overstimulating lights originally raised his anxiety, the adrenaline and excitement of playing and winning won out

• tried to quit a few times but always found his way back to gambling and betting

• card game aficionado. loves the tactile nature of it, always plays with the corners of the cards with his fingertips. sometimes you catch him shuffling and playing cards in his free time at home

• poker is easily his favorite, especially because he can read people like a book. you could never lie to or hide from him

• refuses to say it’s an addiction. it’s more of an intricate hobby, or a challenge he has to bet his way out of

• the worst part is he’s actually pretty good at it and wins more than seventy percent of the time. but when he loses, he loses and he obsesses over it for days

• during good streaks he buys you expensive knickknacks and trinkets and blankets and jewelry, takes you out to dinner more frequently

• feels extra confident when he’s on a hot winning streak, buying you lingerie and telling you to wear it, to turn it into a show for him in the bedroom with him sat on the bed and the lights on

• his hot hands and cold metal rings needily grasp at your sides, his wet tongue caressing the lacy line where the lingerie met your cleavage

• he’ll get impatient, too turned on with your dance to contain himself so he’ll pull you onto his hard erection and bite the nape of your neck to hold you in place

• he’ll stand up and turn you over, hover over you as the mattress shapes to your curves and armin’s hands follow

• loves fingering you with three to four fingers, his eyes doubling in size as he watches your muscles stretch and encompass the appendages. has to clutch the base of his dick like a cock ring to prevent himself from cumming at the site and at the warm, blankety feeling

• sometimes likes to be a bit cheeky and not take his rings off, letting the rings escape inside your opening and feeling it slide toughly against his skin in contrast to your so soft, so sensitive, so inviting body

• the cool metal of his rings was always enticing, and you always gasped heartily and physically thrived at the hard cold material inside

• “oh, shit, baby, i think my ring came off inside you,” he tells you calmly with a wide premeditated smirk, his fingers going limp inside you, “let me just get it out real quick”

• he’ll poke and prod and fold his fingers against your tissue as the ring moves loosely inside you, as you feel yourself building to an inescapable high with armin’s cheeky smirk between your legs as the ring just so happens to keep slipping from his grasp

jean

• jealous jeanyyyyyy

• glares at other men as they talk to you, even if it’s something as innocent as asking for directions or for a petition signature

• usually steps between you and the offending man, escalates the situation beyond necessity by antagonizing the man and firmly demanding an apology for wasting your time

• his blood just boils like hot water in a kettle when he sees you with someone else, someone that’s not him but it should be

• has issues sharing, so there was no way in hell you were slipping out of his attention, and he’s arrogantly insecure, to the excess point that you should only see and talk to him. he’s all you should need right?

• when he saw you calmly talking to eren he flipped his lid, said fuck it to the world and interrupted the conversation

• brings you to the nearest private (i.e., empty and lockable) room and pushes you against the wall or door, his hand firmly locking around your neck

• his hands were so large your whole neck was covered. his fingers were so long the tips touched at the back. his grip was present and firm, and maybe a bit threatening

• “do i speak another language to you? am i on another fucking planet so far you can’t even hear me?”

• he’ll slap the wall next to your ear with his open palm, smirk as you jump from surprise at the sudden outburst

• he leans closer to your ear, the pressure of his hand against your windpipe slightly increasing, his wet hot tongue flicking against your sensitive exposed ear

• “do i need to teach you another lesson?” another light squeeze. “on how to behave?”

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kitxkatrp · 1 year

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Tag Dump 67

#{ Rima Albania: The Future Queen Main Verse }#{ Max: The Protector Behind the Scenes Main Verse }#{ Crowley: The Underground Doctor Main Verse }#{ Jessie: Nightmare Dressed Like a Queen Main Verse }#{ Justin: The Desperate Runaway Main Verse }#{ Kaido: The Calculated Killer Main Verse }#{ Sissy: The Spunky Drinker Main Verse }#{ Xavier: The Delinquent Main Verse }#{ Zack: The Hesitant Killer Main Verse }#{ Zeke: The Charmer Main Verse }

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neesieiumz · 9 months

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𓆩☆𓆪 | 𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙸𝙲𝙴𝚁 ⸺ ⚞ 𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽 𝙹𝙰𝙴𝙶𝙴𝚁 ⚟

⸻ synopsis ⫸ despite working together for a long time, eren and yourself cannot be in a room together, too bad the two of you are stuck at the office late at night.

⸻ warnings ⫸ sm*t. minors do not interact. p*rn with plot. part iii of the gold rush anthology. frenemies. coworkers. secretary!reader. officer!eren. eren calls you angel in this. slight-pervert!eren. erwin is your boss. female reader. afab reader. black-coded reader. reciprocal jealousy. mikasa and connie are in this but have no major significance. slight hate sex. storage room sex. mating-press position, regular and reverse cow-girl position. eren and reader are both in their early twenties as well. hickeys. you may or may not get pinned to the floor. they fight a lot for dominance as well.

⸻ writer's notes ⫸ currently my second longest fic to date, nothing has yet to top my choso one but yeah, yeah I know… this is late asf… I made the last part in may and it's currently july...but in my defense, I was dealing with bad Miguel brainrot! But hope you enjoy this, and to that Anon… HERE! Damn 😭 next is Jean, Armin and finally Zeke!

⸻ word count ⫸ 7.4k

previous part in the anthology | masterlist | next part in the anthology

A change in life, a change in pace was what your mother called it the moment you had moved out here.

It was completely different from what you were expecting of course. "Being born with a silver spoon in their mouth," is what many would have called you. Your father was a rich man from the city, and so you had once wanted for naught, believing every single word that fell from your father’s mouth. Surrounded by the shiny things, expensive items, balls, and parties, the “oohs and wows” of your friends. You believed that your life would continue down that familiar, wealthy path you believed your father had laid out for you.

At least that’s what you thought until you suddenly found yourself being whisked away by your mother in the middle of the night, bags barely packed. She was hysterical, unable to say full words to you as she basically shoved you into a carriage along with your bags. Sixteen, and dressed in a barely thin nightgown, the night was cold, the wind blowing very harshly as The two of you rode into the heavenly midnight. Your body, still heavy with sleep, could barely keep up with the hysterical babblings your mother was making. She wouldn't answer all your questions, all you knew before sleep overtook you once more, was something about your father.

Later, you learned your father had effectively abandoned the two of you, moving his new, younger family into the place you had once called home.

Your mother’s family was once from the country, a decent-sized farm town called Paradisia. They all moved to the city when your grandfather struck gold and became a very rich man. Unfortunately, he was also a fervent gambler and drinker and effectively had given and drank away the money he was supposed to use to sustain his family. It caused your mother to be pushed into your father’s arms and yet, all it did was bring back to the place she was born, but a place she never knew. Soon that’s where you found yourself, in the house her family had left behind. The two of you didn't adjust well, your father had paralyzed the two of you, made you used to having your every mood and need to be picked apart and waited on by others.

It was hard, and your mother's accident didn't make things better. Someone, who we later learned was someone who had a rise against your grandfather, still remembering your mother after all these years. They had pushed her into the road, just as a horse was racing through the path. Everyone said she was lucky to have lived after such a tragedy. She, however, was bedridden, and all the housework, along with bills and other things that needed to be paid soon fell on you.

You needed a job, and you were lucky to have met Erwin, the town’s sheriff, who was also the responding officer to follow up after your mother’s brush stroke with death. He needed a secretary for the sheriff’s office, someone to file papers and file out extra reports, to conduct budget plans and present them to the mayor. Luckily, you were decent with papers and organization, for the most part, everything else you learned on the go. It was good pay, amazing pay even, just enough to get the fancy medicines from the pharmacy for your mother’s chronic back pain as well as pay all the bills. It was a win-win, and most of your co-workers, officers working underneath Erwin as well, were very nice to you, most of them at least.

You pushed open the door, walking into the almost bare office. It had been like this for a matter of weeks, this town was not very much riddled with crime. However, the recent bandits and break-ins have put everyone on edge. Many of the officers were mostly out on patrol, as the recent bandit problem became a top and main priority for the town. There were only a few around, walking around papers in hand, possibly discussing one of many cases happening around the town. You waved and greeted a few, as you made your way to your desk right near the front door.

“Only five minutes late angel… a new record.”

You nearly stopped in your tracks, pushing down the red-hot feeling of annoyance that rose the moment you heard his voice. Glancing over, you made eye contact with deep olive-green eyes gleaming with a jeering look. He was leaning back against his desk, legs raised up, wearing the same uniform many of the officers wore during their shifts. His hair was pulled back in its usual bun, hands clasped together on his stomach as he eyed you, watching you swing yourself around into your chair and desk, lacing your bag right beside you on the floor.

You sighed, pushing yourself underneath the desk, “shut up Jaeger, no one asked for your opinion.”

“Lucky Erwin isn’t in right now, he’d be disappointed that you were late again.”

“Just like he was disappointed when he found out I did the Kirstein report instead of you? Oh yeah, real disappointed.” You mused, sending a small smirk over to him.

He rolled his eyes, “yeah whatever, laugh it up.” he mumbled out, “got me stuck on this desk for the next week that’s for sure.”

You rolled your eyes, still unable to hold back your smirk, “should have actually done the report then Jaeger.”

You could hear him mumble under his breath but he soon quieted down, allowing you to focus on the piles of papers Erwin and other officers around must have put on your desk for you to continue working on. The silence rang in your ears but it was nothing you weren’t used to by now, usually the office was bustling with different walks of people, people with complaints, and petty drama that entails the slow life of the country. Neighborly feuds, and whatnot, but now it was empty, everyone putting their efforts out there—

“How do you even do this?”

Your thoughts were soon cut by that familiar deep voice, inhaling sharply as your eyes turned towards him. He was no longer leaning back, instead, a paper in his hands lifted towards the light illuminating the open windows.

“Jaeger. Shut up.”

He leaned back up, narrowing his eyes at you, “How are you even able to do all of this? How many of these do you even do in a day?”

You sighed, lifting your head back up to fully look at him, “way more than yours Jaeger, now get to it.”

He groaned again, before focusing on the papers once more, as well as picking up his pen. You couldn’t lie, the pile of your work on your desk definitely felt thinner than usual, glancing over at the struggling cop currently typing letter-by-letter whilst glancing at a packet of sheets on his desk.

As you worked, your mind faded, paying attention to your work but your mind also ran through errands you needed to complete either today or sometimes this week. Picking up mom’s medicine, there’s been a shortage and you really need to stock, she’s miserable without it. As well as grocery shopping, cleaning the house, laundry, and pre-cooking lunch for your mother.

Every so often, you would hear Ere complaints, his “woe is me” as he flipped through the stapled stacks. You finished your own pile a few hours later, the day creeping into the afternoon, your lunch break in a couple of hours. Unable to hold yourself back as you snuck glances over at the struggling brunette situated in his chair. His desk was still stacked with papers, with his long hair no longer in the sleek bun he always came in with. His eyes were wracked with frustration. You glanced over at your-now clean desk, before glancing over at the clock once more.

With a heavy resolve, you stood up, before walking over to his desk. Eren, eyes shot with exasperation, only glanced up at you as you held your hand out towards him.

“Give me half, Jaeger '' you compromised, gesturing for him to hurry up.

He narrowed his eyes at you, “last time I did that, I got stuck with this pile.”

You rolled your eyes, “yeah and it’s painful to watch you agonize over this, my brain’s hurting from watching you.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but his hands moved towards the piling, picking up one of the stacks before handing it over to you.

“You better not get me in trouble again, angel.”

“How many times do I gotta tell you not to call me that, Jaeger?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Nothing but the light of the window, along with the flickering light hanging above you, and the lantern Erwin graciously provided you right before your lunch break, surrounding you as you dug deep into the old storage room. He had finally mentioned this storage room after offhandedly bringing it up in conversations with you. The storage was reaching its peak, according to him, with files, transcripts, court documents, and papers from decades of cases, both solved and still cold to this day. With the recent expansions, the mayor wanted everything as organized as possible, and with the sheriff's office so overwhelmed with the recent events, it fell upon you to get the huge storage room in check.

Past your lunch break, with all your main work completed, you found yourself finally beginning to dig through the boxes of old reports and evidence from decades of cases over the years. The room was stacked high with old evidence boxes, almost reaching the ceiling. In hindsight, for a town of that size, it wasn’t as big as many would make it. This was a relatively safe community, but with this expansion, crime was inevitable. Sighted by the obvious thief problem running through the town. As people found it easier to live a country life than city life. People wanna slow down, and in turn, many people of different walks come through. However, longtime residents are very abhorrent against seeing new-dangled city folk coming in and messing up their ways of life.

Throwing out old, moldy evidence boxes and replacing them with fancy metal filing cabinets Erwin and the mayor had ordered. You sighed, before breaking out in a violent cough as dust suddenly entered your lungs.

“Oh I am so asking for a raise after this,” you mumbled angrily, as you dropped the box on the one free table in the room.

The sudden slam overwhelmed the already-breaking box, the flimsy cardboard bottom giving out, causing the files to spill out of the dusty-filled container. The sudden spread of dust caused you to break out into another coughing/sneezing. Cursing to yourself as you cover your nose, eyes watering as you navigate towards the box of tissues you brought with you. Once the dust and dirt dissipated, you continued on your journey, mumbling under your breath as you did so.

‘‘Fuck,” huff “this,” huff “shit!” You let out a final huff as you recognized the files.

On the table where you worked, mark the folders alphabetically before placing them in the piles you had made. You glanced at the small pile, before gazing over at the still-tall piles of boxes that you still need to get through. Once the files were out of the way, you turned around, sighing as you walked towards the stepladder, mind still overrun with anger as you stepped up to grab another box. In a fit of your anger, the moment you yanked one of the boxes off of the tall stack, you must have missed a step, heart dropping as you felt your foot hook onto nothing, feeling yourself beginning to slip.

Your mind was racing, fear overtaking and grappling you, as you felt your hands let go of the box, flailing, and reaching out to grab something. You let out a short shriek, closing your eyes as you braced for impact. However, all you felt was your body landing on something much more softer than the wooden floor. Opening your eyes, you found yourself staring into familiar deep-green olive eyes. Mouth was slightly agape, as your hands unusually wrapped around his shoulders and arms. Your breath quickened slightly as your heart continued to race.

“That was really close, angel.”

His voice snapped you out of your trance, relaxing where exactly you were.

“Let me go Jaeger,” you grunted out, squirming in his hold.

The taller man looked down on you, a slight mischievous smile appearing on his face, “nah, think I like you right here.”

“You are in eye-stabbing distance Jaeger, let me go.”

He hummed, still not letting you go down from his arms, “how about you thank me for catching you? Instead of acting like you got a stick up your ass all the time?”

You grumbled, looking away from him, “rather swallow glass than do that.”

Eren hummed, shrugging his shoulders, “guess you’re stuck here.”

As he said that, his grip on you tightened, his arms pressing you right against his uniform-clad body. Underneath the rough material, you could feel his abs pressing through. The longer you stayed in his arms, the more aware you became of his large hands wrapped around your arm and leg. You could feel his chest moving up and down beneath. Your hands were on top of his shoulders, as the two of you locked eyes.

However, the door suddenly flew open, surprising both of you. Eren’s, ever the graceful person he is, hands suddenly flew up and inadvertently dropped you onto the dusty, old, wooden floor. You landed with your loud thud, letting out a short shriek as your boss, Erwin Smith, popped his head into the room. The tall blonde glanced between the two of you.

“...Did I interrupt something?” He called out, seeing you wince, rubbing yourself on your back, trying to relieve the sudden sharp pain.

Eren let off a nervous giggle, beginning to bend down slightly to help you up, “Ah, no sheriff, nothing at all. Just helping her out with some things.”

The tall blonde man only hummed, glancing between the two of you once more, before looking around at the boxes and new filing cabinets in the room before looking back down at the two of you. He narrowed his eyes at the two of you, not saying a word before slowly backing out, closing the door. The light dimmed, the room once again being illuminated by the singular light and the lantern. Eren looked back down at you, his large hands beginning to wrap around your waist. However, you smacked his hands away, reaching out and using the table to push yourself up. Shuddering, leaning back against the table to catch your breath as parts of your back and butt throbbed with white-hot pain.

“So…”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Get out Jaeger, before I murder you with this lamp.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The next day comes around, with you still organizing the storage room, and Eren still on desk duty, now taking on your pile of reports to do, while you were in the storage room, organizing the filing cabinet. According to Erwin, the reports had to be put into their respective new cabinets by the end of the week, as the mayor was coming to inspect them. With Eren still on desk duty, you had no choice but to delegate your tasks to the tan brunette, as Erwin, once again, literally trusted no one here but you to get these files into their new homes. Which most likely meant you would be stuck here overnight, continuously rummaging through these boxes. Erwin could only show off a face of pity as he gave you the task, luckily raising your pay to make up for the turmoil he was bringing upon you. Fortunately, you had a friend of your mom’s to help her for the next few days while you finished these tasks at work.

You felt your stomach twist, a loud rumbling sound echoing through the room, as you placed the file into the drawer before closing it. Reaching down you turned down the lantern until it dimmed out, before walking out of the room. Walking out of the room, wiping away the slight drip of sweat along your brow, pushing back the bandana you wrapped on top of your hair. You walked down the short hallway, on your way to your desk to head off for your break. You grabbed the bottle of water you had left on top of it, taking a sip as you glanced around the station a little more. There were a few more people in here than usual, ambling about. Your eyes couldn't help themselves as they gazed over to a certain brunette, watching him hunched over the desk, hair frenzied, but that wasn’t the only thing you saw. Standing right near him, hovering over his desk as well, was your other coworker. Mikasa, when it comes to strength within the station, was probably there, on par with Levi, and he didn’t officially work as a cop here. She and Eren go way back, his family taking her in and the two of them becoming officers at the same time. She was bent over the desk, their faces so close together as they spoke in low voices to each other.

You felt your heart constrict for a moment, but a voice pulled you out of your slight trance, turning your head as you made eye contact with gray eyes and a matching buzzcut. You finished your water bottle, screwing the top onto the empty bottle before placing it right on your desk.

“Connie? What’s up?”

When you first arrived in town, Connie was one of the first friends you’ve ever made, along with Jean, his wife, and Sasha. The four of you were basically inseparable all through your last two years of high school and would be the ones to help you out when your mother had her horrible accident.

Connie smiled before holding up a bag, a lunch bag, holding it out to you, “Mom made too much food, already dropped some off with Jean and his lil wife, and Sasha, though she almost took yours but thought you’d like the last of it.”

Your eyes widen, gracefully accepting the bag, and opening the folded top before the savory, rich smell of tomatoes, pasta, cheese, and spices hit your nose. It was a concoction you had smelled all before, memories of eating her lasagna after school whilst your mother was working her two jobs.

You squealed, “I haven't had her food in so long!” Your excitement overtook you, as you jumped towards Connie, wrapping your arms around him.

The man caught you easily twirling you around with laughter and a smile on your face. Neither of you didn’t notice both green and black eyes staring at the two of you, standing in the middle of the station. The two of you began to be wrapped up in your own conversation, walking away with Connie’s arm around you, towards the small break room in the back. Mikasa could only glance at Eren, his eyes glowering, and seeing the pen in his hand being squeezed to their death. The two of you were gone from his sight, but before she could focus him back on the papers, he stood up abruptly, mumbling something about taking his lunch break outside, before stomping out of the station.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The same day but late at night. Barely anyone would stick around at the station, those on nighttime duty would usually go out and patrol, only coming in for small breaks. Even then, they would go to their own homes before they would come to the station to do that. So, there was no one at the station.

Well until now.

The pile of paper was less, but Eren still had a few more to get through, the light of his lamp illuminating his desk as he continued to scribble across them. Erwin was clear on these being done on his desk by morning, with a harsh glare on his face before he headed off for the night, his girl standing outside the station waiting for him. In the distance, he can hear muffled thuds, the sounds of boxes hitting the floor and being torn apart. Eren’s foot tapped faster as his mind slightly drifted to you, still stuck in the storage room, sorting everything that has happened in this sheriff's station. You were still sorting through everything, spending overtime to be able to get it all done for you in time. The pace of his foot quickened, and his mind slowly descended into shambles. He dropped the pen on the desk, leaning back with a loud groan as his mind faded back to this afternoon, the last time he really laid eyes upon you.

Glancing over at the small hallway leading to the storage/evidence room, Eren stood up, his chair scooting back abruptly. His heavy boots thudded against the floor as he made his way to the storage room. The door was slightly ajar, the sounds of papers being shuffled, boxes being ripped apart, and disgruntled huffs getting louder and louder. Eren stood outside the doorway, opening the door a little further, allowing his eyes to lock onto your figure, bent over as you picked up an overstuffed file. You wore a black skirt, paired with a short green top. His eyes could leave your form, watching as you slowly stood back up, walking towards the filing cabinet standing against the wall. He watched as your bottom and thighs moved with every step you took. You bent over once again, opening the drawer, before placing the file into the drawer.

Eren swallowed some spit, coating his dry throat as he felt his pants tighten up. His hand shifted down, adjusting his pants as best as he could to hide the growing hard-on, before raising a hand. With little resolve, he knocked on the door, inadvertently widening the cracked space. The slight knocking and the squeaking door caught you off-guard as you turned around, gasping a bit as you made eye contact with him. Luckily, you weren’t holding anything, as you would have probably dropped it as Eren entered the room, stalking closer to you. You couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on your face as you took in his disheveled appearance.

“Come for help, Jaeger?”

He shook his head, tilting his head as he looked over at you, “...I’m all good over here.” He lied, the pile of papers still hauntingly high on his desk.

“With all these heavy boxes, you might need some help. Wouldn't want you falling to your death, right?” His tone took on a more vexatious tone, bending down slightly to be face to face with you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, the two of you barely an inch apart from each other’s faces, your noses barely grazing each other. The smell of his forest green cologne hit your nose, with the after-smell of mint, you held back a shudder, your thighs unconsciously rubbing together. You broke the stare first, taking a step back, scoffing, and turning your head.

“I have a lot to do tonight Jaeger, I don’t need your arrogance around me. Go finish those damn reports before Erwin yells at you again, and neither me or Mikasa can help you.”

You don’t know what got into you, it was as if her name slipped out of you, your heart racing as he took a few more steps towards you.

Eren narrowed his eyes at you, “not like you're any better off, looks like Connie can’t come give you a hand this time.”

You glared right back at him, “and what the hell does Connie have to—” you suddenly interrupted yourself, “you know what, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Get out. Can’t do any work with breathing down my neck.”

Eren’s glare never let up on you, only watching as you walked away from him, pulling the papers out of the file lying across the table. He shook his head, turning around before walking back towards the door. He reached out, grabbing the handle before pulling. It didn’t budge. Eren’s expression turned into one of slight confusion as he pulled on the door once more. The sound of the wood hitting against the doorframe had you lifting your head up, turning around, and seeing Eren struggling with the door. Your eyes widened, as your eyes landed on the smaller, sturdier box. Through your turmoil, you didn’t notice Eren accidentally kicking away the box that had kept the door propped open.

“You locked us in here! You idiot!” You screamed at him.

“I didn’t know!”

You scoffed, pushing him away, before pulling at the door. No dice. It didn’t budge. You were stuck in here, with Eren of all people. You took a couple steps back, hands on your waist, breathing heavily from the struggle of getting the door open. Eren was a couple of steps away from you, arms crossed as he looked over at you.

“We’re stuck here, until Erwin decides to come in.” Sighing, walking past him towards the table.

Eren followed right behind you, “so what? That’s it? We’re just stuck here? No other way out? No key? No nothing?”

A rush of anger overtook you like a sea wave, your body swiftly turning around to face the man who put you into this predicament, “no, there’s no way out. It locks from the inside, unless you have the key which goes on the outside. Only way to keep it open is if the key stays in the lock on the outside.”

“What the fuck? That’s so stupid, why would Erwin do something like that?”

For “security reasons” according to him, "trust me, you're not the first person to complain about it.”

“So we’re stuck here until morning,” you stated, crossing your arms, leaning against n the huge filing cabinets.

“That’s so… fuck!” He yelled.

The brunette walked back to the door, lifting his leg before kicking at it, multiple times. The loud boom echoed through the room, along with Eren’s heavy grunts. You turned your head, watching as he struggled against the door.

“Kicking stuff is not gonna help our situation, Jaeger.” You sighed, bending your head back, the cool touch of the metal sending calming chills through your spine.

Eren stood up straight, stalking towards you. He stood right in front of you, leaning down, hands in his pockets

He narrowed his eyes at you, “and what the hell do you suggest? I don’t see you thinking on how to get out of here!”

“Because there is no way out. You think Erwin would make a way out of here without the key? No. There's sensitive information in here.” You said, lifting your head up to look at him.

Your noses barely grazed each other as you glared right at each other. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest, that heated feeling blooming within you. The smell of his musk-like cologne not doing you sorts of favors.

Your hands, slightly shaking, reached up, hoping to move him away from you to relieve you of the tumultuous mess you were slowly becoming, “get out my face,” you hissed.

Your hands only touched his shoulders before his hands came up and wrapped around your wrists, easily pinning them against the metal box. Eren leaned down further into you, seeing his chest move up and down, his breath breezing up against your face. One day, when you would think back on this night in the future, the two of you may argue about who actually initiated everything between the two of you. The two of you locked lips, hands moving around the two of you in a frenzy, your hands running wildly through his long brown locks, while his hands roamed around your body, his two hands finding solace grabbing at and squeezing your ass. With ease, Eren easily picked up you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you, your back hitting up against the edge of the table, easily dropping you right onto it.

You shrieked, internally hissing as a hot-white pain shot up your back. The pain dulled away as quickly as it came as you let out a choked moan as you felt his lips leave wet kisses along your neck, “fuck… god, you’re an asshole.”

His eyes narrowed back at you, “looks who’s talking,” is all he said before he bent down again, swallowing you into another kiss.

Another moan left your lips, muffled by the kiss as Eren pressed his body further into you. His hands wrapped up around your knees, pushing your legs further apart and back, allowing your skirt to ride up. Revealing your soaked panties, the sticky sound of your juices as one hand left your leg. Eren took two fingers, hooking them underneath the soaked clothes before pulling them up and away, revaluing your drenched cunt to him. You felt cold air brush along your private, causing you to slightly shudder in his hold.

By now your loose blouse has fallen from your shoulders, your bra straps following, revealing your titties to him. Your distressed locs, once piled up into a high bun, now falling from the hold, brushing along your shoulder blades and neck. The both of you let go for a moment, catching your breath as you glanced at each other. His lips wet with your saliva, hair messy from your actions. You could feel your panties becoming more and more soaked as the two of you dove back into your intense kiss. Your hands feel his shirt, stumbling with the buttons as you undid his buttons one by one. Once you got enough buttons off, you ripped the rest of it off, buttons flying all over the room, revealing his chest. Eren soon let go of the kiss, taking a short breath before beginning to leave kisses all along your cheeks and jawline.

“Fuck—” choking on your spit, head thrown back in bliss.

Eren’s hands slid up from your waist, his large hands taking up each one of your breasts, He gave each a tentative squeeze, and the two of you locked eyes for a short moment. Eren gave you a smirk, causing you to narrow your eyes at him. He returned his attention to your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. Your body lurched as he sucked, his lips wet with drool.

His attention soon switched to your other nipple. The heat of the dark room didn’t help you as you ground yourself between the edge of the table and his chest. Your hands flew up, pulling in his long hair, as you let out a noisy moan. Your legs hooked around his back, a tight heat building up within you.

With a cry, a premature climax washed over you, your body trembling as your already wet panties became soaked with your cum. Eren soon let go of you, staring up at you, no words but his haughty-like smirk speaking for him. You glared at him, and a flash of anger went through you. An idea sparked within you as you gripped his hair, suddenly pulling down.

“Agh, what the fuck are you doing—?” He yelled as you pushed yourself off the table, making him stand up straight.

With all the leverage in your hands, you pushed him right down to the floor. He grunted as he landed, eyes going up as he saw you towering over him. He made eye contact with your bunched-up skirt, along with your soaked panties. Slowly, you pulled your panties down. Eren could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and he knew his whole face was red as you hovered over him.

With no words, you lowered yourself completely, your wet cunt landing comfortably on his face, right against his nose and lips. Eren’s tongue was already out of his mouth as you began to grind against him, not bothering to muffle your moans. Your legs and hips moved up and down against him, keeping the pressure up against him. Then, as if he went into overdrive, his arms and hands suddenly flew up, curling around, reaching over from the back, wrapping around your thighs, locking you in place. Eren held you down as he ate away at you. He licked and sucked away at you, his eyes gazing up at you, seeing how you threw yourself into complete euphoria.

“Fuck–” you stuttered, covering your mouth, sweat and tears mixing together as they dripped down your face.

For a moment, you glanced down at him, at the same time he opened his eyes, the two of you locking eyes. You couldn't he;p the smirk that appeared on your face. Your hands reached down, your nails and hands weaving through his dark brown hair.

“Not half bad, for someone like you, Jaeger,” your voice was breathy, your body convulsing.

Eren’s eyes glowed against the low light, glaring up at you, a range of emotions flowing through them. With no sudden warning, you shrieked as you were suddenly flipped up and around, landing right on your back. Just as quickly, you felt his lips take you once again, his two hands pinning you down by your wrists. The kiss was deep, drool dripping down from both of you. Your hips moved, around, looking for any type of friction, something to ease this fervid ache within you. One of Eren’s hands let go of one of your wrists, reaching down to your thigh, before pushing it back. Your now-free hand flew eight back into his hair. You pulled on it, smirking as you felt him moan in your mouth, as he sucked away on your tongue. You could taste yourself all over him, sending He soon in-slotted his hips in between your legs, his abdomen and hips grinding right up against you, feeling the stickiness of your slick dripping up against him. His hard-on slipped in between your sopping cunt, his angry-red tip pushing up against your clit.

He soon lets go of your other hand, not letting go of the kiss as his hands slither down and around your leg, before easily pushing them back. The slightly-painful stretch only causes you to surge forward. He let go of the kiss, taking deep and heavy puffs as he guided his hard cock in between you. You could hear him mumbling under his breath although the sound of your heart beating, as well as your heavy breaths from the messy kiss you two just had, overtook most of what he was saying. He was slapping the tip against your clit, his hips grinding the rest of his huffing and puffing.

A flash of anger went through you, and impatience overtook your tone, “hurry up, and fuck me Jaeger!”

His eyes held their own flash of ire as they narrowed at you, and suddenly without warning, he pushed his cock into you, pulling a sudden loud shriek out of you. His sudden action knocked the wind out of you, gasping as your back arched up, taking in the sudden aftershocks. His hands landed right on the back of your knees, his hands gripping around them, giving him balance as he slammed into your pussy.

“Fuck, Jaeger, slow down–” you cried out, your hands dragging down from his scalp into his back, your nails digging into his back.

He said nothing to you, his pace only picking up more and more, the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other was speaking for him. His hair drooped all around him, obscuring his face but you knew deep down inside he wore that very intense look upon his face. Your pussy throbbed and clenched around his length, feeling reaching deep in you. He soon leaned down, his lips lining right up against your ear.

“Huh, still not half bad right, for someone like me? Right, Angel?” He whispered right in your ear, before taking a tentative lick at your ear and beginning to suck on it softly.

As if something snapped within you, you reached right back into his hair, pulling his head away from you. The sudden pull caused Eren to let out a loud groan, his body trembling, his thrust wavering for a moment. The moment awakened something in you, a sudden smugness going through you as you pulled on it again. Just as before his thrust wavered as he let out another loud moan, letting off a soft “fuck” as well. Taking advantage of his imbalance, gathering what little strength you could while in your second wind, you were able to push Eren right back on his back again. He landed with an oof as he opened his eyes, seeing you towering over him once again. You smirked down at him, before turning around, your back and butt facing him as you hovered right over his cock, soaking wet with your juices. Taking a deep breath, you let out a long hiss as you slowly lowered yourself right onto him.

“Oooh fuck,” he groaned, his hands reaching out and gripping the fat around your thighs.

You pushed your long locs to the side as your hips began to move up and down, using your legs as a balance. Soon getting into a rhythm, your movements quickened, the new position hitting new places within your soaking pussy. Eren’s incoherent moans invigorated you, your hips rocking in all different directions. You could feel his hands gripping bruises into your skin, his slightly long nails digging crescents into your skin. You glanced back at him, seeing his eyes clenched shut, a deep red blush running all over his face and neck. You lifted yourself up, a slight desolate emptiness going through you. Eren let off a gasp, opening his eyes and looking up at you. He narrowed his eyes at you as he let go of his grip around your thighs.

His breath was heavy, glaring at you but as quick as it came, it went away as you sank tight back onto his cock, facing him this time. With a smug look, leaning down as much as you could as you rode him, easily grabbing at his hair and pulling.

“Angel–, wait, fuck,” his voice was desperate, the slight whines only send waves of pleasure all through your spine and core.

Hearing Eren’s cries intoxicated you, your hips moving faster and faster, more and more sporadically as well. Your grip on his hair loosened, revealing Eren in the heated daze you put in. Seeing your dilemma, he grabbed your butt, squeezing it tightly before thrusting up roughly. You shrieked, your body flopping onto his, your hands on his shoulders for some balance as he speared his cock into you. You let off curses, the mixture of spit and sweat dripping down from your face and landing on your lips, tasting the salty mixture. As the heated knot within builds up more and more, Eren feels your cunt clench and pulse around him, only further pushing him over the line.

Your head landed right on his shoulders, unable to hold back your words, “I still hate you so, fuck— much,” you mumbled in his ear.

His erratic thrusts only turned sporadic as his own lips reached your ears, “yeah, you hate me? Show me how much you hate, come for me.”

His words, covered in spitefulness, only urge you, pulling a loud moan out of you as you shook in his hold, your climax spilling and ripping out of you. You dug your nails into him, breaking skin as you came all over him. Your orgasm overwhelmed him, the final push of him as he slammed into you for one last time, groaning very loudly. He didn’t bother pulling out, his seed spilling into you, mixing in with your clear juices. The two of you were breathing very heavily, your head flopping onto his shoulder as his hands wrapped themselves around your waist.

Eren glanced down, hearing soft snores as he saw you slumped, sleeping from the strenuous activity. He couldn’t hold back the smile on his face, slowly easing you off of him but still keeping you right on him as he grabbed his uniform, before pulling it over the two of you. A wave of tiredness overtook him as well, not saying a word, holding you close before falling asleep on the floor of the storage room.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

High-pitched laughter echoed through the ranch home, your head bent in shame as you sat at your friend’s home.

“I’m sorry for laughing,” she said, obviously not sorry at all, as she wiped the tears from her face.

You took a sip of the coffee she made for you, twirling one of your locs in between your fingers, “it’s fine, trust me. I’d be laughing if it was you in my situation.”

“Your situation? You fucked your co-worker in a storage room, and got caught by your BOSS of all people.”

You covered your face with your hand, letting off a very loud groan, “it was the most embarrassing shit I’ve ever experienced! But the fact that Erwin KNEW something like this would happen… I need to get a new job.”

Your friend snickered, covering her mouth and looking away from you. Before she could say something the back door flew open. Heavy boots hitting the ground, the two of you watched as a very sweaty Jean came through the door. His shirt was wide open, drenched with dirt and sweat, his hat shielding him from the outside sun. You glanced over at your friend, who was staring at her husband like a piece of meat ready to be devoured. You rolled your eyes, sipping down the rest of your lemonade.

“Hey there, haven’t seen you in a while,” Jean said, coming around to give you a short hug.

You smiled, hugging him back, “yeah, been busy at work but thought I’d swing by here while I have the rest of the day off.”

“Yeah, “been busy doing work”…” Your friend teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

Jean’s eyebrows quirked up, looking at your playful glare towards his wife and his wife’s teasing smile. Suddenly, he remembered the conversations he had with his wife. His eyes widened, glancing between the two of you, before putting his hands up in surrender, not wanting to think of his friend any other way.

He walked around the table, grabbing the pitcher of lemonade she had left on the counter, pouring himself a big glass

“Leave me out of it,” is all Jean said, bending down to give his wife a sweet kiss on the cheek before on the lips.

He was about to walk away, but a soft hand stopped him, pulling him down. A surge of elation ran through him as he felt her soft lips on his own. He ignored the scoff from the other side of the table as he deepened the kiss, closing his eyes. His hand nearly slammed down onto the table, using it for balance as he pushed down. Just as his lungs were beginning to scream out, she slowly let go of the kiss, smiling as the line of spit connected her lips to his own.

“Not so bad, Mr. Kirstein,” she mumbled, her hand reaching up towards him, her thumb stroking his cheek.

Jean smiled, grabbing her hand, and laying a couple of kisses on it, “only learned from the best,” he said back, giving her one last kiss on her hand before standing up fully.

You gagged, looking away from the two of them, “ew, keep your lovey-doveyness away from me.”

His wife rolled her eyes, fulling face you once again, “you could get like me, you know. With you know who.”

You shook your head, grimacing “would rather work in the mines before I do that.”

Jean glanced between his wife and his friend, shaking his head before taking a huge gulp of lemonade. He needed to get back to the horses and cattle soon. A long day ahead of him after all.

taglist: @kanekisfavoritegf @daisynik7 @where-the-blackbirds-sing @nathalunalune @secretanimesimp @kentucky-fried-me @levin4nami @liv-vy @mortqlprojections @invisible-mori @desiray562 @liliorsstuff-blog @sophiiluvvs @magictrump @ventdavi154 @ircngirl @lostinbeidou @missmadness123 @introvered-violinist @dior-fawn @saway4ma @reallongwire @nerdy-simp-7120 @stareatceiling @ehveerivv @zzg0d @keiva1000 @honeybleed @str4wberrylover

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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 4 months

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Hi!! May I get some Zeke love through headcannons about him? 👉👈

+ boyfriend zeke jaeger headcanons +

zeke is infamously known for his snoring. he snores so loud, it’s terrifying sometimes.

he surprisingly loves to take pictures with you. he’ll always take a selfie with you. and he looks absolutely thrilled in each one.

he’s always losing his glasses. constantly. they’re also always in the most obvious places but he can never find them.

zeke hopes to one day have a son or even a daughter. he’s just excited to have kids and be a better father than his was.

he’s an avid water drinker. he always orders a water when you guys go out to eat.

his favorite season is probably spring. he hates the cold and the snow. you always have to drag him out if there’s snow on the ground.

^ but he looks sooo cute in a winter coat. and he has sensitive skin, so his cheeks always turn extra red when he’s cold.

i think that his love language would be parallel play. just doing your own thing separately but also together. a close second would be physical touch.

he can never stay awake to finish a movie, even if it was a movie he picked out. he also always eats most of the popcorn.

he’s an early riser. he won’t get up if it’s still dark, but if the suns up, he’s up. he likes to go for a bike ride in the morning or even a jog. but he’ll be back before you wake up.

zeke loves mimosas an unhealthy amount. he’s not really a fan of alcohol but if he drinks, he prefers to drink the expensive stuff. mimosas are the one exception. brunch is always interesting.

he doesn’t argue either. even if you’re wrong. this man doesn’t argue. he doesn’t want to yell at you and more or less, he doesn’t feel like it. he’ll just shut right up.

he’s not really a good cook. i mean, he’s not terrible. but he’s not good either. however, he makes some mean chocolate chip cookies. they’re a christmas favorite.

zeke’s incredibly smart. he’s always ten steps ahead of you. it is so annoying. you can never surprise him for birthdays or anniversaries because he figures it all out.

he’s kinda nosey…lives for the drama and gossip. wants to know everything about everyone. he’s like a sponge that absorbs information.

he’s the best listener. he listens so intensely to what you say. you never have to repeat yourself.

he gives incredibly hugs. like soul-crushing, lifting you off your feet hugs. he always makes you feel safe.

i hope you liked this! i’m so scared of writing zeke LOL

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cosmicjoke · 6 months

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Do you think Levi has ever drunk himself silly or attempted to smoke at some point in his life? We’ve seen him drink, but I do doubt he’d try smoking, then again, living for most of his life in the underground it would seem impossible to avoid.

That's an interesting question. I tend to think Levi might have smoked at some point, yeah, given the generally dreary experience of living in the Underground, and the lack of options in finding relief from that dreariness. He might have picked up the habit of smoking as a form of stress relief. And the same might hold true for drinking. I don't see Levi as having an addictive personality, so I doubt he was ever an alcoholic or anything like that, but if he ever got depressed enough, he might have tried to drink himself into a stupor just to escape what he was feeling. I often see the headcanon that Levi CAN'T get drunk because of his Ackerman powers, which might be true, for all I know. Though there's nothing to really indicate he can't get drunk, either. But we also know Levi isn't really a drinker. He didn't touch the wine, as far as I know, when he was guarding Zeke in the forest, and was initially opposed to even allowing it to come with them. So Levi strikes me as a very disciplined person. Of course, he MIGHT have drunk some of the wine, and it just didn't have an affect on him because he's an Ackerman and can't turn into a titan. I also think Levi might feel repulsed by alcohol because of where he grew up. He no doubt saw a lot of drunkenness and violence spurred on by drunkenness, so I think that might also have instilled in him a distaste for alcohol.

#Levi Ackerman

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zeke-in-devildom · 4 months

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Random question, but what would Zeke smell like? Like I can imagine him smelling like coffee and depression but I'm genuinely curious about your thoughts on this. I got curious while trying to draw him.

Zeke is an avid coffee drinker, so I imagine he does smell like coffee a lot of the time! He prefers natural scents to manufactured ones, so herbal or woodsy scents like lavender, vanilla, or sandalwood. Also has to be subtle, he doesn't wear strong colognes.

Thank you for the ask! I love answering questions about my OCs and I'm particularly fond of Zeke.

#obey me #obey me zeke #obey me ezekiel jada pendergast #obey me mc #obey me oc

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bleach-your-panties · 4 months

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My contribution to Thirsty Thursday💦 I present to you - my favs categorized by WAP lyrics!!

warnings: my opinion, explicit lyrics, explicit sexual language, MDNI, this is for brown ppl😂😂

"Beat it up, nigga, catch a charge. Extra large and extra hard."

(onyankopon, TOJI, TOUSEN, RENJI, kenpachi, KENSEI, KIRISHIMA, OGUN, taiju)

"Put this pussy right in your face, swipe your nose like a credit card"

(MIKEY, takemichi, CHIFUYU, KOKONOI, inui, ARMIN, JEAN)

"Tie me up, like I'm surprised. Let's roleplay. I'll wear a disguise."

(IZURU, AIZEN, TAMAKI, yumichika, toshinori yagi (all might), AIZAWA, shinsou, LEVI)

"I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm bout to be. I'll run down on him before I have a nigga running me."

(EREN, ZEKE, sanzu, shion, TAIJU, KISAKI, HANMA, mucho)

"Talk yo shit, bite yo lip. Ask for a car while you ride that dick. You really ain't never gotta fuck him for a thang, he already made his mind up before he came."

(that rich mf from that one anime - idk his name but y'all know who i'm talking about, BYAKUYA, GOJO, NANAMI)

"He bought a phone just for pictures of this wet ass pussy."

(CHIFUYU, MIKEY, MITSUYA, draken, takemichi, KENMA, TSUKISHIMA, nishinoya, sugawara, tendou, BOKUTO, KUROO)

"Pay my tuition just to kiss me on this wet ass pussy. Now make it rain if you wanna see some wet ass pussy."

(RYUUKEN)

"Look I need a hard hitter, I need a deep stroker-"

(BAKUGOU, KIRISHIMA, CHOSO, GOJO, NANAMI, BOKUTO, USHIJIMA)

"I need a Henny drinker, I need a weed smoker-

(WAKASA, RAN, CONNIE, onyankopon)

"Not a garter snake, I need a king cobra. With a hook in it, hope it lean over."

(RENJI)

"He got some money, then that's where I'm headed, pussy A1, just like his credit"

(BYAKUYA, KENMA, KOKONOI)

"He got a beard, well I'm trying to wet it"

(SHUNSUI, starrk, ISSHIN, principal yaga)

"I let him taste it, now he diabetic."

(RIKIDO SATO, fatgum, TAMAKI)

"I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp. I wanna gag, I wanna choke. I want you to touch that little dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat."

(ARMIN, TAMAKI, IZURU, RENJI, SHUUHEI)

"Y'all know I'm a freak bitch - handcuffs, leashes. Switch my wig, make him feel like he's cheating."

(SZAYELAPORRO, ULQUIORRA, mayuri, ggio vega, AIZEN, LUPPI, yumichika, IKKAKU, GRIMMJOW, ichigo, AIZAWA, DAICHI, sanzu, MITSUYA)

"Put him on his knees, give him something to believe in."

(IZURU, SHUUHEI, TOUSEN, ARMIN, floch, TAMAKI, DENKI, izuku, megumi, YUTA)

"I never lost a fight, but I'm looking for a beating."

(TOJI, CHAD (sado yasutora))

"If he ate my ass, he's a bottom feeder."

(YUUJI, TODO)

"If it don't hang, then he can't bang. You can't hurt my feelings but I like pain."

(GETO, NAOYA, TOJI, CHOSO, EREN, REINER, ZEKE)

"If he fuck me and ask 'who's is it?', when I ride the dick, Imma spell my name. Ah )

(BAKUGOU, HAWKS, DABI, mr. compress, SHOTO, EREN, megumi, toge, TSUKISHIMA)

#💗💗🍡°thirsty thursday #💗💗🍡°thirsting #byp🌹#x black reader #x black fem reader #black coded reader #black y/n

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ghostsbrokenbyfairytales · 5 months

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[The Forgotten]. Please welcome [Ezekial "Zeke" Hunt (He/Him)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [40]-year-old [VISITOR] who lives in [TOWN]. You may see them around working as a [Head Editor for The Huntsville Daily].

FULL NAME: Ezekial "Zeke" Hunt FACECLAIM: Matthew Gray Gubler HEIGHT: 6'1 AGE: 40 DOB: March 9th OCCUPATION: Head editor @ huntsville daily ROLE: hunter IDENTITY: he/him ORIENTATION: pansexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single but also taken don't ask questions

biography

zeke grew up in a small town that was similar to huntsville but not exact, his town being slightly bigger and in a different state but adjusting back to a town like this wasn't too difficult for him. his biggest adjustment was no longer being able to use his technology anymore the way he used to like his laptop and phone which he heavily relied on for work.

he's been in town for nearly a year now, showed up on a random day in february

enjoys/enjoyed photography in his free time, has ever since he was a kid and would take pictures of random things like landscape, animals, buildings etc and made money off of it but not a lot and wasn't the profession he wanted to go into anyway. does have his camera with in but doesn't usually carry it around unless he planned to take pics that day.

realized he enjoyed writing more and that's what he wanted to pursue, wrote a few books under a pen name that he never told anyone and never told anyone he wrote books to begin with. ended up using both photography and writing skills and began working for a magazine company out in florida. he'd been working for it for the last ten years and slowly made his way up in the ranks to be the assistant editor for it. took head editor spot when arriving to town.

a drinker a smoker and a whore, can have a bit of an attitude depending on his mood for the day

was adopted at a young age so doesn't actually know much of anything about who is biological family is except for their names when he wanted to know his family history, never looked into it past that since no one ever reached out to him in the past so assumed they didn't want anything to do with him

has always gone by zeke for as long as he can remember, hasn't even told anyone his name is ezekial. if someone from out of town shows up and knows his name or gets called that he might fight you.

#zeke:bio #huntsvilleintro

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mangosimoothie · 2 years

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oc ask meme timeeeee:🧭 ⏳ ☕ 🍸 for aja & zeke!

🧭 - how good is their sense of direction? how often do they get lost?

They're both pro travelers so good sense of direction is a must! Aja can be a little spacey sometimes and wind up getting a little turned around because she made a detour, but she's good at retracing her steps.

⏳ - how good (or bad) is their time perception? do they zone out a lot?

Meditation has affected Zeke's sense of time in that he is basically a living timer lol. He doesn't even set kitchen timers - he can just tell when the hour's up.

Time is wonky for Aja. She's got a lot on her mind and is always hyperfocusing on like 3 things at once so time goes by FAST. She'll stop one thing to do something else and then BAM - 2am.

☕ - favorite warm beverage? go-to coffee order?

Surprising absolutely nobody, Zeke is a tea person. He's practically evangelical about CBD tea - you've GOT to try it, it will COMPLETELY change your morning routine and attentiveness - we get it Zeke, you like weed tea.

Aja's the last person who should be drinking coffee lol. She loves her a matcha latte though and agrees with Zeke about the CBD tea - she thinks it tastes weird though

🍸 - do they drink alcohol? if yes, what's their favorite drink? if not, why?

Neither of them are super heavy drinkers, but they do drink. Put two fingers of rye whiskey in a glass with one of those big ice cubes and Zeke's good to go. He also loves a good bloody mary. Aja just wants a glass of wine but you can easily get her to do some shots with you. It's fun!

From THIS prompt!

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theangrypomeranian · 1 year

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zekina - 15 (duh!), 32, 43 <3 (unless someone has already asked those ones, in that case you pick!)

15. What songs remind you of their relationship? Not Like I'm in Love With You - Lauren Weintraub Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez Delicate - Taylor Swift Out of My League - Stephen Speaks Perfect - Ed Sheeran Tiny Dancer - Elton John and many many more, but if i list them all this will be way too long lol 32. Do either of them drink? If so, who’s the lightweight, and how does their partner care for them? They're social drinkers, so they really only drink when they're with friends. Tina is suuuuuuch a lightweight and Zeke usually has to carry her home - not that he's complaining lol. He also makes sure she's hydrated and holds her hair back if she gets sick. 43. If they picked out outfits for each other, what would they look like? Zeke would have Tina in skirts 24/7 if he could, he LOVES how she looks in them. Tina really only cares if his pants/shorts hug his ass well lol.

#sally answers #ask prompt #zekina #hey neely #ilysm for sending these okie okie <3

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pjdno · 5 months

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underestimate me.

that'll be fun.

drinker and weed enthusiast. owner of a dog called zeke.

6'4. bit of an asshole. caring. observant. kinda narcissistic. body's work of art. in his 20's.

mostly in the gym,stoned or getting new tattoos.

he can be possessive and overprotective over the ones he loves. if you hurt them he will probably break every single of your bones and make it look like an accident.

will flirt with you. he/him. sarcastic. funny. literate and descriptive. brother. ms. rich born. your local dealer. party king. dark hair. green eyes.

downtown's troublemaker. younger brother to iris..

18+. mdni. dark and taboo themes are welcome. literate and descriptive. nsfw content. ms. ss.

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thewestern · 8 months

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Chapter 10

The days were getting shorter. She knew that much. Kitty could see it was nearly pitch dark, and here it was only half past five o’clock. Although it was challenging to register the passage of time inside the Newfy. Apart from the slow-pitch softball-sized porthole punched into the front door, the only other window was a stained glass rendering of Jesus H. Christ on a motorcycle, in flowing robes of red white, and blue leather, jumping over something out of frame, possibly a record-breaking amount of school buses, the Snake River or the Sea of Galilee. Hank was of the religious belief that natural light had no place in an alehouse. On occasion he would infrequent some of the newer taprooms, many of which occupied facilities that were once zoned industrially — body shops, warehouses, other houses of light manufacturing — since retrofitted for retail purposes. As craft breweries, they bore scant resemblances to their former selves. Except for the exposed ductwork and loading docks with the big garage doors that could be rolled all the way up to the top. Weather cooperative, the day drinkers would flock in droves, to Hank's utter beffudlement.

Who in the Sam Hell wants to get a buzz on in broad daylight? He could never figure.

In his quaint fucking view of things, a big part of the Pub’s broad-based appeal was that no matter the frightfulness of the elements outside — be there gale-force winds, driving rains, whiteout blizzard, flash flooding or towering walls of eternal hellfire — take one step within, and you shall be sheltered. To hunker down. This is a place of refuge. We grant thee asylum. Seriously, hang up your crown of thorns and stay awhile. And leave your troubles at the normal-sized door. For your worries are but microscopic airborne particulates that cannot survive in our hermetically-sealed environment, what with its dim lighting and nearly complete lack of ventilation. Here is all things Safe: haven, harbour, house, room, space. Safety guaranteed. Here is a House of Ale, and you are welcome to make yourself at home.

Or whatever it is, it’s not a damned pool party.

The commotion of the afternoon was passed, and the Newfy had settled back into its well-worn malaise. Kitty had returned to grading, this time sidled up to the bar. Don’t Sunday evenings feel like the end of something more than just a weekend? Around Half Past Four P.M. local time, the last of the beautiful people from the afternoon crowd would’ve cleared out, back to their loved ones and their lovely homes. Maybe we’ll get takeout from that new [ethnic food] place … Doesn’t that sound good? Anyway, I don’t feel like cooking. And, ooh, what time does [our show] start?

They called them the Sunday Scaries. Today that passed for tongue and cheek. But the truth was, apart from Death, there wasn’t much at all to be afraid of. Not anymore. Fear itself, maybe.

In the great afterwards, the Off-Peak Hours, that was when the really interesting ones slinked in, as Russ used to say. Looking over their shoulder, like they’re on the lam from somebody. Or else they’re kind of guy or gal who maybe doesn’t have a place he or she’s gotta be Monday morning. Hank’s type of person. Sort that’d stopped coming around so much anymore.

Now the Newfy was mostly just slow going, on a dreary Sunday night like tonight. For the express purposes of boosting staff morale and maybe attracting back some of the old, end-of-the-weekend stragglers, the Mick had made a rare-for-him marketing-slash-managerial decision — to implement his very own semi-regular Sunday Event Series. As per the poster Zeke had placed strategically above the back corner urinal in the men’s restroom — which read, The Mick’s Choices … Never miss a Sunday show — he would pick a live concert recording of the band Phish, locate the corresponding disc in his totemic CD wallet, and play it on the stereo system in the bar. That was pretty much it.

The Mick would strenuously agree that one of the most embarrassing things about himself was his bordering-on-autistic recall of the tens of hundreds of Phish tapes he had accrued over lo these many years. (Once he asked Kitty to teach him how to Do a Spreadsheet so he could better index his vast catalogue — for posterity. She thought it was cute, the way he was hunting and pecking his way around the rows and columns, his tongue protruding like Michael Jordan. Which isn’t to say that he didn’t do a fine job. He did. For a fact, his may be the only private collection of Phish live recordings to be arranged in strict adherence to the Dewey Decimal System. It also bears notation that this was the first and last spreadsheet the Mick had ever made. One and done. We should all be so lucky.) From the Hollywood Bowl to Madison Square Garden. From Redwood Acres Fairgrounds to the Big Cypress Indian Reservation. From Side A to Side B. That Side was made for You and Me.

To be clear, he hadn’t personally attended a single one of these concerts. Unlike Hank, the Mick had not spent his twenties (in Hank’s case well into his thirties and even intermittently into his forties and fifties), hitting the road and following his favorite band across the American Expanse. His work schedule and salary at the brewery would not have accommodated for such a lifestyle, and he had no earthly idea how Hank had ever managed. Big a Phish fan as he was, Mick had only seen a couple dozen shows over the years, mostly within a modest driving distance of wherever he happened to be existing at a given moment in time. Now maybe to the layman that sounds like a lot, but by the standard of being a Phish fan, it was quite a paltry sum indeed. No skin off his back though. Because his love for the band Phish was only exceeded by his burning hatred of waiting in line. Line of traffic into the parking lot, lines to get into the venue, lines to buy a beer, lines to take a leak, lines to get back out of the venue, cars lined up again to leave the parking lot. Lines intersecting on an infinite loop. Every line takes something away from a man. Nevermind the time it took him to wait.

(Beside his thing about lines, the Mick had a better excuse for his comparative truancy. Here is the story of the Mick’s very first Phish show. It was summer O-Four, during which he and his middle schoolmates spent the balance of their abundant free time at the local Cineplex. Mostly they loitered, but quite deliberately — they explored the parking expanse on their BMX bicycles, delighted in tormenting the only slightly older concessionaires, raced one another in the arcade driving simulation, Cruisin’ USA. In the alley behind the theater the Mick shared his first kiss with an especially willing partner who would shortly thereafter undergo a teen pregnancy, by a separate suitor, however. Occasionally they would even see a movie. On the night in question, that which would go on to define the course of the Mick’s life in more ways than he would care to admit, he had purchased a ticket for what was supposed to have been his second screening in the third installment of the Harry Potter film adaptations, The Prisoner of Azkaban, however, with the expressed plan to sneak into something R-rated, either the teen sex comedy — Girl Next Door, the cutting edge body horror-slash-torture porn — Saw or the revenge action thriller Man on Fire, in retrospect really the only worthwhile one of the bunch, although GND does have its moments. In the course of he and his comrades performing reconnaissance to identify which of any of the three entrances was unmanned by an acne-scarred sentry, the Mick was stopped dead in his tracks by something he smelled, wafting from the end of the corridor. And it wasn’t buttered popcorn [diacetyl]. It was weed [tetrahydrocannabinol {THC}], cowboy. You bet your sweet ass. Like an old-timey cartoon, led by his upturned nose he danced along the scent plume’s trail toward a unmarked theater — Theater Nine and Three-Quarters, if you will — at the far aft of the movie house. Now he could hear the music. He entered into a state of divine banishment; glorious ostracism. Never fully to return.

And we're glad glad glad that you're alive

And we're glad glad glad that you'll arrive

And we're glad glad glad glad glad glad glad

And we're glad glad glad that you're a glide)

(Okay, for all the non-heads out there, what had happened was that the Mick made this discovery — which altered the course of his life in ways he wouldn’t care to admit — of his all-time favourite band Phish, on the occassion of what was billed to be their farewell run. As such, it was simulcast into movie theaters in jam band-friendly markets across North America. Last picture show, type of shit. What the Mick couldn’t tell by seeing his dilated pupils projected onto a sixty-foot screen was that Trey was in a bad fucking way. Had been for some time. Downers. God damn opiates. Of course they had gone on hiatus before in the late nineties. This time was different though. Seemed like if they didn’t stop for real Trey was going to die. Seems like a no-brainer then. No sense in losing one’s life over a silly thing like music. Well not exactly. You see by then Phish was more than a band. They were a company. Phish, Inc. With obligations outstanding. In an interview with Anthony Mason of CBS Sunday Morning, on the occassion of their thirtieth anniversary, Trey recounts how all of their close personal friends — some of their family members even — were on the payroll. That at-the-time they had in the ballpark of eighty full-time employees working out of an office park in Burlington. That’s a small-to-medium sized business, kimosabe. If they as a band stop going on gigs, then all those people — people they’ve known and loved their whole lives — are out of theirs. And this is to say nothing of their legion of devoted fans. What the hell are they supposed to do? Get a job? You sound like their mothers.

Wouldn’t you know that the Grateful Dead, in their day, stared down the very same dilemma. Like Trey after him, Jerry was killing himself on stage every night in front of thousands of people who worshipped him. His only chance at getting out alive was to call the whole thing off. Stop the fucking music, once and for all. But he couldn’t. Too many people depended on him. And in the Dead too, they were more than just employees. For a fact, they were referred to as The Family. So even when the other guys in the band would take a break, Jerry would keep going. Head back out on the road with the Jerry Garcia Band [JGB]. Keep the paychecks coming. The good times rolling.

Maybe Trey learned from Garcia’s martyrdom. Whatever the justification was, they shut it all down. Everybody got let go. And the fans, they were pissed. Four years they had to wait. Like it’s the fucking Winter Olympics. For his part the Mick didn’t much mind. Getting to the party just as it was presumed to be over. Maybe it was he didn’t know enough to know what he was missing. Beside, he had the whole back catalogue to work through.)

Women are understood, as well as expected to be more patient. However, a Phish concert is one of those special few places on the Planet Earth where the queue for the Ladies’ Room is the considerably shorter. (Monster truck rallies, minor league hockey games, the Arab peninsular state of Qatar — all make great date night ideas for this reason.) Kitty, being the supportive partner she was, had tagged along to at least a third of those twenty-something or so shows he’d seen in the time they had been together. She never quite Got It. Not in the manner Mick had. But she managed to enjoy herself just fine all the same. Most of all she liked the lights. They reminded her of the planetarium at Space Camp. An immensity of our universe, began one of the elder counselors. For many days before the end of our earth, people will look into the sky and notice a star, increasingly bright and increasingly near. As this star approaches us—as this star approaches us, the weather will change. The great polar fields of the north and the south will rot and divide. The seas will turn warmer. The last of us search the heavens and stand amazed. For the stars will still be there, moving through their ancient rhythms. The thalamic constellations that illuminate our night will seem as they have always seemed: eternal, unchanged and little moved by the sharpness of time between our planet’s birth and its demise. Orion, the hunter. One of thalamus constellations and the most brilliant in the heavens—

Oh for sure … Kuroda is basically the fifth member, as he had Micksplained to her on more than one occassion around when they first began dating.

—Cancer, the crab … Containing a large loose cluster of stars called Presaepe, or the Beehive—

He was referring of course to Chris Kuroda, the band’s longtime lighting designer, forever a fan favorite.

—Taurus, the Bull—

Legend has it that sometime around the late nineteen eighties, Kuroda responded to a classified ad in the Burlington Free Press: WANTED: Creative light person to run new light show for Phish on a salaried, permanent basis. This very valuable partner will travel with the band as a 5th member. We are looking for someone from the New England area -- no need to live in VT. Honor and recognition in case of success. Call (802) XXX-XXXX.

—And while the flash of our beginning … Has not yet travelled the light years into the distance … Has not been seen by planets deep within the other galaxies … we will disappear into the blackness of space from whence we came … destroyed as we began, in a burst of gas and fire.

His genius resides at the intersection of light and sound. This is because he, Kuroda, improvises right along with the band, anticipating their many crescendos and other musical flourishes and syncing his cues accordingly. It’s a fluency he’s honed over many hundreds of shows, spanning decades. His entire adult life.

—The heavens are still and cold once more. In all the complexity of our universe and the galaxies beyond, the Earth will not be missed—

Over the course of his custodianship, as this grand beacon of Phish — a lighthouse on a rocky eddy, orienting the ship to the faded horizon —the band has nonetheless gone on several extended hiatuses — taking time away to start families, pursue solo projects, dry out with the odd rehab stint. On his sabbaticals, Kuroda has carved out a lucrative niche as a phaser gun for hire — mostly moonlight designing arena tours for pop stars. He’s collaborated with the likes of Justin Bieber, Ariana Grande and other luminaries. Their demands differ from those of his day job in that these shows are all choreographed to the micro-second, so as to be repeatable night-after-night in cities around the world. (Hello Cleveland!) Tedious work for a man of his talent? Perhaps. But that’s not to say there aren’t perks. Notably these freelance gigs allow for him to experiment creatively with pyrotechnics, lasers and other elements which are not a part of Phish’s standard arsenal. So that’s something.

—Through the infinite reaches of space, the problems of Man seem trivial and naive indeed—

Without a doubt, dipping his toes into the mainstream has influenced his ongoing life’s work with Phish. For many years the band performed in front of backdrops designed by the visual artist Marj Minkin, also bassist Mike Gordon’s mother. Until Kuroda unveiled this new rig — a seventy-plus panel wall of LED lights, suspended in midair, twenty-two feet above the stage. It marked a considerable aesthetic departure, to which fan reception was lukewarm at best. Kuroda, who harbored his own reservations about the propriatary jumbotron, gathered a consensus among the organisation that video just wasn’t their thing. But while the endeavour was short-lived, it bled into subsequent innovations in LD automation, including the mechanized network of trusses which have become a mainstay not only at Phish shows, but have permeated the concert lighting industry writ large.

—And Man, existing alone, seems to be an episode of little consequences.

###

There was a neon sign behind the bar depicting Doctor Lupus, chugging a Wolff Light. It would flash in such a way that his right foreleg — the one holding the can (wolves don’t have arms) — would have the appearance of raising up to his muzzle and pouring a fluorescent golden stream onto his protruding tongue, which would then retract contemporaneously to the can being lowered back down. Meanwhile, with the opposite paw, he would quick draw, spin, fire once into the air and then reholster a six-shooter, before turning his head to disperse the gunsmoke with a hearty belch. Hank had bid for the item at one of the many estate auctions he attended over the years.

Apart from elaborately illuminated Doctor Lupus, the Newfy didn’t have any sophisticated lighting or other A/V effects to speak of, for which to accompany the Mick’s Choices. Sometimes Kitty would find a black-and-white movie on the plasma screen TV above the bar — maybe a Kung Fu flick or something else cool like that — and play it on mute in the background. (You’ve probably heard from your older sister’s boyfriend that The Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd syncs up perfectly with The Wizard of Oz if you press play precisely when the MGM lion roars for a third time. But did you also know that Can’t Buy a Thrill by Steely Dan and The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers bear no relation to one another whatsoever?) Tonight there was just a game that Mick was distractedly watching while Kitty finished her homeworks. It was halftime in Football Night in America. Redskins versus Cowboys — a nationally televised matchup of massive media markets you’d have seen dozens of times if you’d seen it once. Pitting bitter division rivals, two formerly proud football institutions become moribund franchises, mired through decades of mismanagement, for which team ownership takes no accountability, being as they are themselves buried under the weight of expectations by their entitled asshole fanbases.

With the score deadlocked at six after two quarters, this particular tilt was shaping up to be a real fucking pillow fight. Anyway, it’s not like the Mick had any dog in the fight. But what the hell. It was on, wasn’t it? Sometimes that was enough.

(In an increasingly fragmented media landscape, with myriad cable channels and the emergence of over-the-top [OTT] video content streaming platforms, professional football remains among the few reliable ratings draws for networks to sell advertising against. You look at a list of the Top Ten most viewed TV shows in a given sweeps period, eight of them are all but guaranteed to be primetime games. The other two are singing competition-based reality shows. For some reason people really fucking love those.)

[This evening’s halftime entertainment was the Tuition Toss Up, Proudly Presented by Wolff Light. Two competitors were given thirty seconds on the clock to throw as many footballs into a large plywood cutout of Dr. Lupus’ mouth. The Winner would receive fifty-thousand dollars — made out on a giant cardboard check — to be placed in escrow and paid toward an accredited higher education institution of their choosing. {That ought to cover a semester or two.} But don’t worry about The Loser … Because nobody leaves the Tuition Toss Up empty-handed. The Runner Up would receive a some-expenses-paid vacation voucher to a Wolffenbeir Company-partner resort, as well as discount airfare for two.

As the two undergraduates desperately underhanded pigskins, rattling off the snarling fangs of this two-dimensional beast — as if he were blowing them beyond the target — the Mick thought of Russell Schehrer of all fucking people. Russ, who could often be found on the beer league soccer Pitch, as he insisted on calling it, didn’t much care for American Football, as he insisted on calling it. No doubt though, he would have had a field day with this spectacle.

I mean, what’s next? The Tackling Healthcare Cost Challenge, brought to you by Big Insurance. Two chronically ill patients face off in an Oklahoma Drill — a full-contact contest to decide who truly is the toughest in the fight against Type Two Diabetes. Better not play pre-existing condition defense. Because winner gets their insulin, hospital bills and assorted other medical expenses paid in part {conditions apply — see website for details}. Second place goes home with a free month’s-supply of diet sodas and a t-shirt jersey. The Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program Long SNAPping Derby …

{Russ didn’t converse so much as he would just riff. When he’d start in talking, one could get up from the conversation, go to the restroom, wash his hands, pour himself a fresh beer, sit back down and Russ’d still be there jawing away. Like he was fucking Bill Hicks. And hell, maybe he was half right most the time. But boy was it tiresome.}])

For this week’s selection, the Mick had played it somewhat safe with an underrated classic: Phish. 1996 Fall Tour. 6 December 1996, The Aladdin Theater, Las Vegas. On the one hand, just a super playful set. Some very adventurous riffs on a few standards — Wilson, Llama, a monster Mike’s Groove. But then you can also tell the band is really rounding into its Apex Form. Like, listen to the fucking YEM … it’s fucking all-time, man. Honestly, it wouldn’t be crazy to say that whatever roll they got started with this show — the Fall Tour finale — catapulted them into the legendary run of Winter and Summer Ninety-Seven. The encore … It’s a countdown to takeoff.

Because this was the Mick’s Choices, after all, he had taken the liberty of skipping straight to said encore, beginning at the end on Disc Three of three. Spanning forty minutes, really it was more of a third set unto itself. A self-contained rock opera, if you please, crescendoed around the oft-requested Harpua, a ballad about a boy and his cat, on an odyssey to a desert oasis, or at least in this telling. The Mick and his compatriots had arrived at the part of the story where a pair of cowgirl sirens beckon four Elvis impersonators onto stage with their hypnotic yodeling. They challenge the young boy to battle, in the form of a dueling performance of the song Suspicious Minds, which was something of a comeback hit for the King. Shakes of his latter career death rattle. The boy, played by drummer John Fishman, himself donning Presley’s signature satin cape over his own signature donut dress, sings the ultimate verse with Trey taking his place on percussion. Finishing it off with a few arm windmills and karate chops, successfully he gains passage from the Elvises. Again, the Mick was not particularly proud to know this. He would be especially embarrassed to see it all written out like that in regular English. And nevertheless …

We’re caught in a trap

I can’t walk out

Because I love you too much, baby

Why can’t you see?

What you’re doing to me

When you don’t believe a word I say

[Rollicking keys]

Grace was but a tiny little baby — if she were even born — the night this encore occurred. The Mick would have been just a small boy himself, not unlike like our hero, Harpua, and he figured to be some years older than her. Still, she had heard the recording of this show, although she had only cherry-picked the first set for Harry Hood, her own personal national anthem. Something of a Harry completist, Grace had heard hundreds of versions. This was pretty good Hood. By no means the best, although she couldn’t rattle off, say her top five renditions. Not off the top of her head. Grace didn’t have anywhere’s near the Mick’s advanced degree of scholarship on the band’s live oeuvre. She’d likely been to as many if not more shows though.

Whereas the rest of the Newfers only tolerated the Mick’s Choices out of pure professional obligation, a true fan herself, Grace truly appreciated her boss’s curatorship. Tonight though she wasn’t fully Feeling It, having found herself in a bit of a funk. This of course owing to the love triangle that she became entangled in that afternoon. The details aren’t important, or any of your fucking business by her estimation. But suffice it to say the bizarre situation of being caught between contemporaneous lovers met an predictably awkward end.

Zeke meanwhile was over the moon simply to be in Grace’s orbit, albeit seated a full five stools away on the opposing end of the bar, separated by Mick, Kitty and a strange man dressed as a Cowboy.

#novls of tumblr #chris kuroda #ck5 #washington football team

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momtaku · 5 years

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Well, no, Zeke wasn't eaten because he has the sрiked wine. If the junta tried to fed him to Historia ASAР, he'd just scream sooner. The wine was always his main insurance, that рlan started even before the first shiр with Yelena arrived to the island. And Historia's рregnancy doesn't even рrotect Zeke because he still could be fed to a рlaceholder. Levi wanted to do exactly this. And if Eren did something terrible to Historia, why wasn't it shown? We saw him beating Armin, insulting Mikasa...

Zeke needed both. He needed the wine and Historia.

The MP plan was to feed Historia to Zeke as soon as he reached the island. They only agreed to wait because of the supposed pregnancy. This allowed Zeke to get to the island under the guise that he was on the side of Paradis. It gave him and Eren weeks to maneuver things into position. That includes time to evacuate Shiganshina, and if he’s working with Kiyomi, to have her on the island for the rumbling.

The wine is Zeke’s ultimate trump card, but it was never going to force cooperation. We see that in people like Pixis, Nile and the rest of the soldiers who are picking up guns and going to the front lines. For a few wine drinkers, it seemed to have that effect, but not the majority. It’s just as likely that Zeke is using the wine plot not to force cooperation but also to have a mindless titan army available at the moment he needs it.

#chatting with friends #zeke jaeger #wine drinkers #snk chapter 108 #fake pregnancy #Anonymous

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licentiapennas · 5 years

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small headcanons cause im trash

If by chance Heather were to ingest the Spinal Fluid of a Titan Shifter, the effect would be incapacitated due to sensory overload. This is because she is not a true Paradisian by blood, but a foreigner instead. If she were to somehow manage to control herself in that situation, she would be incredibly dangerous but also quite easy to distract.

Consider it ADHD for a dog, if you wish.

#headcanons #honestly just because of this chapter is why I say this #It's not that the spinal fluid itself would do any harm #it's zekes scream that would flip that switch #so if she did drink the wine (which.. i doubt since she isn't a wine drinker but lets go with it)#then this is what would happen to her if zeke initiated that whole plan #but hey idk just yet about anything cause I haven't read the entire chapter!

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apollostears · 3 years

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𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐔𝐌: 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐄

key: nsfw [ ♪ ] angst [ ♭] fluff [ 𝄢 ] normal/crack [ ♩] dark [ ♫︎ ]

MHA/BNHA

➢ imagines

stolen kisses [ midoriya ] 𝄢

needed me [ bakugo ] ♭

p$ssy fairy [ keigo ] ♪ 𝄢

options [ keigo ] ♭ 𝄢

crush [ todoroki ] 𝄢 ♭

at last [ bakugo ] ♭

➢ headcanons

love birds [ kirishima and kaminari ] 𝄢

groupchat [ bakusqaud ] ♩

boyfriend!sfw [ bakugo ] 𝄢 ♭

mental health day [ class 1-A ] 𝄢 ♭

the office quotes [ class 1-A ] ♩

↳︎ boyfriend series: shinso, shoto ♪ 𝄢

➢ drabbles

jealous [ bakugo ] 𝄢

nobody but you [ dabi ] ♭

➢ text posts

juice drinker [ class 1-A ] ♩

HAIKYUU

➢ imagines

my type [ oikawa ] 𝄢 ♭

been like this & pt. 2 [ iwaizumi ] ♭ 𝄢

been like this pt. 2 [ kentarō - mad dog ] ♭ 𝄢

➢ headcanons

ass like that [ iwaizumi ] ♪

➢ series

karasuHOEs series: pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 6 | pt. 7 [ karasuno ] ♩[ text series ]

➢ drabbles

early sunsets [ iwaizumi ] 𝄢

winter coat [ bokuto ] 𝄢

attention [ kuroo ] 𝄢

JUJUTSU KAISEN

➢ headcanons

sex with me [ nanami ] ♪ 𝄢

sorcerers' anonymous [ first years ] ♩

one-way street [ nanami ] ♭

gossip girl [ sukuna, megumi, yuji, nanami, & gojo ] ♩

freshmen [ yuji, megumi, & nobara ] ♩

➢ imagines

first fuck [ geto ] ♪ 𝄢

stretch you out [ todo ] ♪ 𝄢

show me [ todo ] ♪ 𝄢

girlfriend [ todo ] ♪ 𝄢

toxic [ toji ] ♪ 𝄢

me and your mama [ toji ] ♪ 𝄢

➢︎ text posts

sorcerers’ anonymous series♩♪ 𝄢

➢︎ drabbles

hand holding [ megumi, toge, yuuji, and choso ] 𝄢

uncensored [ geto ] ♪

insane [ gojo ] ♭

i watch the moon [ megumi ] 𝄢

all night [ nanami ] ♪ 𝄢

ATTACK ON TITAN

➢︎ headcanons

favorite things [ survey corps + zeke and reiner ] 𝄢 ♭

in session [ survey corps + marley warriors + yelena and onyankopon ] ♩

➢︎ drabbles

uncensored [ armin ] ♪

but i’m a creep [ armin ] ︎ ︎♫︎

feels almost like a dream [ connie ] 𝄢 ♪

FIRE FORCE

➢︎ drabbles

eleven [ vulcan ] 𝄢

TOKYO REVENGERS

➢︎ drabbles

ride or die [ baji ] ♩

533 notes · View notes

ladyquietus · 2 years

Text

In Your Memories ❅ Part 3 (Last Part)

Note: I do not own any characters and plot of Attack on Titan, they rightfully belong to the owner as this is only a work of fanfiction. Also Contains spoilers if you haven’t read the manga.

Warning: Angst, Death, Sacrifice, Swearing, and a long read

They all rushed outside, grabbing their ODM gears and preparing themselves for the worst, y/n has started to carry a heavy heart. She couldn’t bear to tell Reiner, nor even meet him. It’ll trouble him even more, maybe it’s best to leave him be...

“Y/n, we’ll get through this okay? We’ll find a way, just please... we don’t want to lose anymore friends,” Jean turns his head behind, still running up the stairs. His eyes started to glisten with upcoming tears, he looked back infront before any of it could fall.

y/n couldn’t say anything, she only looked down at the gray steps. Trying to calm down her heartrace, she tried to hold her tears back, numerous memories started to cross her mind. She felt another pang in her chest, wiping off the tears threatening to leave the corner of her eyes. She hastily wiped them off with the sleeve on her forearm.

“Oi, stop right there!! this place is under the control of the Yaegerists!! Don’t act as you-” A male scout and others came falling in, their rifles pointed at us. But Jean quickly held his collar, pulling him in, in a menacing way.

“Listen trainee, do you intend to risk your life, to stop us from rescuing your dear master Yaeger? Then don’t prevent the whole army forces from fighting against Marley!” Jean growls,.

“Unlock all the cells!” Connie pipes up, taking the keys from the scouts and started unlocking the cells one by one.

Y/n opens a cell gate, only to find Commander Pixis with a black cloth tied around his upper arm.

“Commander!” Y/n greets, opening the cell gate wider for him and other soldiers pass through.

“Are you alright?” Armin notices and approached them.

“I haven’t gone senile yet, but... I drank too much...” Despite being a cool-headed Commander- Pixis’s voice was laced with a small hint of grief- looking at the black cloth.

They all stood with a tensed look on their faces, the silence heavily weighing the atmosphere.

Commander Pixis cleared his throat, before opening his mouth into a shout.

“Listen well everyone!! There is only a limited number of three dimensional maneuver gear equipments here! Those who aren’t wearing a black armband, gear up in priority!! As for heavy drinkers who successfully fell for the enemy’s plan, follow me!! Come to the front line and face the invaders!!”

“Understood!!” the soldiers yelled back.

As they were busy preparing themselves, Y/n approached Mikasa who was slipping on her ODM gear.

“Mikasa... I wanna go with you,” y/n says, her voice firm despite her trembling hands.

“y/n... it’s best if you get out of here while you still can- go far away, out of Zeke’s range. We’ll meet again,” Mikasa’s eyes started to get glossy, holding y/n’s hands in a comforting way.

“I know but... there’s no escaping this, I want to at least give my all to stop Zeke and Eren while I still can. Also with Reiner...” y/n trails off, her shoulders began to shake as she lets out a sob.

Mikasa pulls her in to a hug, she let her tears slide down on her pale cheeks as they both let out their cries.

After a few seconds, they both pulled away- smearing off their snots and salty tears.

“My decision is final,” y/n stammers, but the look on her eyes says it all.

Mikasa nods in understanding before handing y/n another ODM gear.

Once she’s all prepared, they all rushed outside- only to see a gruesome sight. An airship flew above them but it was caught in a raging fire- filling the sky with smoke as it crashed down near the border.

Y/n quickly shifted her gaze at the sound rocks being thrown and crash, rubbles falling everywhere. Her eyes widen at the sight of Reiner’s armored titan kneeling on the ground, half of his face was full of steam- healing himself from whatever Eren had done to him. Y/n’s chest began to tighten, it ached with worry and fear. She didn’t want to see him die, she needed to see him after all of this shit.

“What happened to captain and Hange?” Jean asks as they began to approach Yelena.

“Seems obvious they must have been defeated by Zeke, he showed up at the time and place he had agreed on with Eren like he has promised to.”

“That’s ridiculous!,” Connie says.

Armin gritted his teeth as he turned towards them.

“That’s too bad but there’s no other way!! it’s in order for Zeke and Eren to the save the world!! Let’s join the Yaeger Faction and help them coming into contact!!” Just as Armin finished saying those words, they backed up a bit and clenched the weapon on their hands. Yelena was now standing behind Armin, her face turned into a mixture of anger and insanity. But, then it turned into a smile.

“Please help Eren and Zeke, I trust you Armin,”

“But.. Mikasa, we can’t kill Reiner,” y/n mutters to Mikasa as they both took off with their ODM gears, landing on top of buildings as they drew closer to the titans.

“I.. I don’t know anymore y/n,” Mikasa looked torn.

In all of a sudden, bullets came flying through. They managed to dodge it and his behind the roofs of the houses. Y/n’s heart started to pound, she began to take in deep breaths. Thinking about seeing Reiner again

Eren was now limping his way towards Zeke’s titan, who laid flat on the ground. Galliard managed to clamp his jaw on Eren’s leg but it didn’t last long when Eren raised his close fist and smashed on the top of Galliard’s head.

y/n couldn’t move, her breath hitched when Galliard wasn’t moving anymore. Eren was about to finish him off when a powerful bullet striked him on the head. They all looked over to the source to find the Cart Titan on top of the wall.

“Y/n! look out!” Armin shouts, his hard gaze focused behind 2 soldiers that were close behind y/n, their rifles aimed.

She was slow, her foot slipped from a tile and she fell-she won’t be able to dodge their bullets despite the ODM gear.

She shut her eyes, awaiting for the impact but was surprise to find an arm encircling around her. Lifting her off to another building just as the bullets roared and chraged to kill. She looked up at Jean, his eyes pained but he was still glad that he made it in time. She saw a slit of his suit dripping blood, he was shot.

“Jean, you’ve been hit!” y/n panics, a flash of Sasha’s death ran through her mind. They both landed safely on top of a house, Y/n immediately ripped a piece of cloth from her sleeve and tied it around Jean.

“I’m fine, it’s just a graze. You should really leave y/n, if Zeke-”

Before Jean could even finish, Zeke’s beast titan spoke as if he was in despair.

“I’ve fallen... to the ground...was I.. shot..”

The Armored titan was now on top of Eren, desperately trying to defeat him as the Jaw titan remained still on the ground, hot steam surrounding them.

“Eren... now I call the titans!!” the Beast titan started to rise.

“No... no, fuck!” Jean curses, immediately taking y/n again on his arms and flew to a nearby building closer to where Reiner and Eren are.

“Please wait!! Falco he- he has accidentally ingested your spinal fluid!! Don’t scream!!!” Colt rushes to the beast titan with Falco by his side.

“Reiner!! Eren!! Please, don’t let him!! y/n drank Zeke’s spinal fluid!!” Jean musters all of his strength to scream at both titans.

Y/n’s lips quivers when she meets the Armored titan’s eyes, she could tell that Reiner couldn’t believe it. She could feel his doubt, his fear, his regrets.

“Y/n...” Reiner trails off.

No, It couldn’t be true. Not my y/n…

“Jean, get away from me… let me go,” She knew this was it, she can’t let Jean get in the way with her shift. She can��t let Reiner see her turn into mindless titan, it’d kill him.

Y/n pushes Jean off and immediately flies off just enough to get away from him, from her friends.

The Beast Titan widens its mouth, its guttural scream coursed through the air. Flashes of light appeared simultaneously all over the place, Y/n could see Colt holding dearly to his brother- not caring that he’d die.

But what pained y/n the most was seeing Reiner, not taking his eyes off of her. The conscious sight that she last saw was him trying to reach her, as the bright light roared.

“Reiner, you dumbass.” Y/n bites her lip, trying to hold her tears back as Historia wraps a cloth around his bloodied arm.

The tower has begun to get infested with Titans, one of them Reiner managed to throw off a window but it also injured him.

“Don’t worry about me, okay y/n?” He soothes, placing a hand on her head.

Y/n noticed a tint of redness on his cheeks, she already knew that she didn’t causes that. But a particular blonde woman instead tending to his injured arm. Not only was y/n worried about Reiner seriously getting injured- but her jealousy of Historia has started grow.

She never knew when her feelings for Reiner started but what she did know was- she didn’t want it. No matter how hard she tried to rid or forget about it, it always comes back stronger. She couldn’t bring herself to even confess, even if they were together- she didn’t want to lose him, they were scouts.

After Historia finished bandaging his arm and left to join with the others, they were left alone.

Still, Reiner was never aware of y/n’s feelings, Nor was his that was starting to creep.

Sure Historia is beautiful and could make any guy fall for her but he couldn’t shake off his feelings for y/n. She was quiet but her presence was comforting and warm.

“How’re you feeling?” Y/n asks, taking a glimpse at him.

“I feel a bit better, it takes more than a Titan to kill me.” He tries to at least enlighten the mood, it was the first time he has seen y/n worry so much.

She wasn’t amused at all, her hands were shaking and it was clearly visible to Reiner.

He didn’t think at all but placed his free hand on hers, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Not wanting to let the feelings take a hold of him, he’s on a mission for Christ’s sake.

Jean flew, landing on a roof on his back. The steam that y/n released was burning, but the emotion of seeing his friend turn into a pure Titan was so much more.

“No…” Jean’s lips quivered, watching the naked Titan stood- frozen as if it was taking everything in.

Until Zeke has let out another command to the new pure titans to attack Reiner.

Y/n charged at him, along with Falco. It was such a painful sight for him, to lose one of his friends much to a fate worse than death.

“Y/n!” He couldn’t help but scream, jumping from one roof to another.

Anything, anything at all to help her. There has to be something.

Titans sprang everywhere, cornering every street where ordinary humans once stood.

None of them had time to think or even grieve, as they try to avoid being shot at or eaten.

Y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n. Reiner’s head repeated her name over and over.

At the same time, he noticed falco changing direction towards him. His mouth wide open, aiming to kill as Zeke ordered.

Reiner managed to stopped him, his hands gripped on falco’s shoulder. Pinning him down next to Eren by their necks,

I can’t handle them both at the same time.. Eren will get away.. I need to end Falco’s misery..

And y/n…

His heart ached, sparing a glance at y/n trying to snatch soldiers on roofs.

His troubled thoughts gained a moment for Eren, noticing the opportunity- he pushed off Reiner. Immediately trying to reach the Beast Titan’s evaporating body.

Reiner managed to snatch his ankle, Eren fell face first from the sudden action.

This loosened Reiner’s grip on Falco, making the titan take a mouthful of Reiner’s hardened nape.

Just when things were about to get worse, The Cart Titan’s heavy artillery shot more on the Beast Titan’s lying body. Hoping for a higher chance to stop the brothers.

For a moment, Reiner relaxed a bit. Even thought about letting Falco inherit the Armored Titan, but what lies heavy in his mind was his beloved. He was torn.

Falco pulled away from Reiner, surprising him. Then noticed a staggering figure making his way towards them.

“I don’t have any strength left.. to heal my own body. There is no way I’m going to just die for nothing.” What’s left of Porco’s face looked defeated, but was ready to sacrifice himself to save Falco. Reminiscing at the memories he saw from his brother.

Falco rushed towards Porco, gobbling him up as if he was nothing.

They were stunned at the scene displayed.

Furious, Reiner tried to take out Eren from his titan form but failed to from hardening his body. Eren’s human form managed to come out and run towards Zeke.

The Armored Titan screamed, his hand almost reached Eren until a missile landed on his hand, and another on his neck, exploding. Missing his chance.

No, no, no, no. This is not supposed to be it. I need y/n.

Its too late to reach for Eren now, the least he could do is reach for her.

Dragging his body as quickly as he could to her, he made his decision. Its the least he could do for her, after what he put her through.

His form was exhausted, he was just close to her.

Reiner loosed his hardened nape and came out from the Armored Titan, wanting to get her attention.

“Y/n!!!” He yells, waving his arms.

“Y/n!!!” Screaming his voice out.

Y/n’s nude mishapend titan form took notice of this, her attention shifting to Reiner.

“Yes, yes come at me. I’m here y/n! I’m here, I’m sorry for leaving you. I have no excuse for what I had done-” He let out a gasped as she grabbed him. As if everything was moving so slowly, Reiner had to say a few more things.

“Y/n, my love.. I hope you’ll forgive me. I’m sorry for not saying this sooner, but… I love you. I really do. I hope my memories will let you see just how much you fulfill me to the point that I won’t let death stop me.” A few tears escaped from his eyes, looking into her expressionless eyes, his hands even caressing the flesh of her hand- wanting for her to even feel his warmth.

Her mouth started to open wide, pulling Reiner in.

Live for the things we couldn’t, y/n. I promise to never leave you again like before. I’ll be with you, as you’ll have me.

Reiner closed his eyes as Y/n consumed him.

✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐ ✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐ ✎✐✎✐✎

Thank you for reading In Your Memories (A Reiner short fanfic). Along with all your patience for the last part, I do apologize for the long publish and the quick and rough story!

I hope ya’ll enjoyed it :)

#reiner x reader #reiner x you #shingeki no kyojin reiner #reiner imagine #reiner braun #aot #attack on titan fanfic

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