I Don't Know How I Feel About The "JJK Part 2" Theories, All I Know Is That I Need To See That Ugly Brother-diddling

i hate working in fast food like yesss king talk to me like im a dog and treat me like shit as i think abt how i can’t make rent this month. or abt how groceries are out of the question. or my silent prayer that i don’t have two consecutive days off bc not eating for days in a row is rlly getting to me. but yea ill hurry up and get ur food i understand that ppl w “real jobs” are busy!!

hey cause I hate myself I just thought of why gojo left a seat empty between himself and geto in the afterlife:

it's for shoko when she dies

now playing…

bring me to life by evanescence

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

yandere asylum therapist! suguru x reader

the official prequel to this oneshot!!! while it is in the same au, this one (and the other one) can def be read as standalones!!!! ^.^

cw’s!!: descriptions of violence (bashing someone’s skull in, knocking someone’s teeth out), gn! reader, no use of y/n, delusional sugu!!! (the best sugu imo :3), and i think that’s it!!!! ^^

wc: 1.2k :))

one more meeting. one more meeting and you’d finally be done with all of the infuriating hours spent in and out of various psychiatrists offices. one more meeting and then you could go back to your cell and fuck off like you knew the nurses wanted you to (you weren’t stupid, you saw the way the nurses glanced at you through their peripherals. it’s not like it wasn’t for good reason). one more meeting and then you could just choose whichever therapist you vaguely remembered the name of (probably the irritatingly serene one. she was more than willing to talk about herself when you refused to answer any of her questions and she seemed tougher than the others, like she wouldn’t crumble under a few threats from you.)

there were four security guards surrounding you while you walked. it was like a big, blaring alarm. “do not come close.” (as if the loud metal clanking of your restraints and the vibrant red of your jumpsuit wasn’t enough to signify that already).

three of the guards fell back when you made it to the door. the last office was in a strange spot, past all of the cells and a long hallway, all the way in the back of the institution. there was a plaque outside of this door, as if someone important was sitting inside waiting for you (you almost laughed at the thought. flesh can be cut and bones can be broken, can’t they? your status can’t save you from violence).

you barely got to skim over the name on the plaque before the door was open and you were unceremoniously shoved through it, your lips immediately parting to shoot a half-formed threat towards the guard behind you (probably something about bashing his skull in, you didn’t really premeditate your threats before dishing them out)… until you were interrupted.

“now now, is that any way to treat my patient?” the voice that cut in was deep. smooth and warm but not pleasantly so (not like a fireplace or a summers day, but like heated metal running along your skin. so hot that you don’t even register the pain until you’re already burned). there’s a hand on your shoulder before you even realize, the deep voice closer than before. you resist the urge to shudder at the touch.

“why don’t you go sit, hm? i can’t imagine those heavy restraints are comfortable to hold up like that.” you only respond by shouldering his hand off of you and sending the security guard a sharp glare, the metal of your restraints loud when you settle yourself in the chair in front of a large oak desk. you felt like you were at a business meeting rather than a preliminary therapy session.

“i’ll handle it from here.” is all the man says before the last security guard leaves the room. you don’t bother to look at him as he settles himself in the chair across from you.

it’s quiet for a long moment, the only sounds in the room being the soft shuffle of the papers he’s looking through and the ticking of the clock on the wall (god how you wished you could knock it off the wall. it seemed to be getting louder with every incessant tick). you were starting to wonder if he was planning on talking at all (you could only hope. you’d much prefer to sit in silence rather than watch yet another doctor desperately try to get you to answer their questions). your hopes were dashed as soon as they appeared.

“i apologize for the delay, that was rude of me. it’s just been quite a while since i last took a patient, i’m rusty with the procedures.” his voice finally cuts through the silence. you don’t say anything, you don’t even glance up at him. interesting.

“i’m sure you saw my name outside, but it feels rude not to introduce myself anyway. i’m dr. geto, the leading psychiatrist of this institution.” that catches your attention. your eyes are already narrowed in annoyance when you look at him, your brows only furrowing more when you took in his appearance. he was pretty. irritatingly so. you don’t doubt he had every nurse wrapped around his finger just because of that fact.

“you’re the leading psychiatrist? so what, is this some sort of last ditch effort to fix me?” you question, your sharp gaze continuing to watch him through your lashes. you hated how smug his expression was, how those purple eyes seemed to dissect you the moment they had a chance, how he smiled at your cynicism.

“if that’s how you want to think about it, then yes. though i would say that’s quite a pessimistic line of thinking, no?” you don’t say anything, so he continues. “i was the one who requested to see you. i stopped taking patients when i got promoted to this position, but you…” he pauses, considering his words. “your case interested me.” you scoff.

you can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, watching you with that same unsettling smile. you’re caught in a strange sort of staring contest with him, but it only lasts until he says your name.

and that. that’s what makes you snap.

it was nothing more than a soft utterance, something to call your attention back to him… but the way he said it, the way the syllables dripped from his lips like something so nauseatingly sweet while he held that agitating fucking smile on his face… you were convinced he was lucifer himself.

“if you keep smiling at me like that i will knock all of your fucking teeth out, do you understand me?” you lean forward in your seat when he doesn’t respond immediately, your restraints clanking with the movement.

“do you understand me?” you repeat. you’re not loud with your words, not at all. you’re deadly quiet, eyes wide and staring right at him. he manages to school his expression quickly, but you’re perceptive. you catch the flicker of surprise on his face.

he swallows before he speaks, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly with the action (you briefly wonder what it would feel like to cut through it). “… i understand.” his volume matches yours but he can’t hide the slight breathiness in his voice.

his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears he’s almost sure that you can hear it just as clearly as he can (he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case, at least. he wouldn’t be surprised if you could read his thoughts with the way you were looking at him).

he briefly wondered if you were something divine, something sent down to punish him by seeing right through his facade. something that could see that he deserved to be in those restraints just as much as you did. the thought sends a shiver through him and he averts his gaze (which is only confirmation to him. why else would he be so distraught if not for some sort of divine intervention?)

you both make your own decisions when you’re escorted out of his office a few minutes later.

anyone but him is what you decide.

and he decides that he’s yours.

tmi to the poll takers perhaps (but this question is tmi asking anyway LOL) for me i have only done it one time because of an art i saw??? but not to how the character usually looks like in canon...? since i never really do tbh LMAO. anime art style / even hentai never really gets me off like that. as much as i love writing and thirsting i only get horny in the literal sense i fear when it comes to that... but it's interesting to think about....

More fat characters who are complex heroes, serious love interests, funny without mentioning their weight, brooding anti-heroes, compelling antagonists, random bystanders without comments toward their looks

happy birthday to the god explosion murder dyamight

LET ME KISS EVERY CREVICE OF YOUR BRAIN PLEASE I BEG I PLEAD someone sedate me please(suguru)

look away from me mist im losing my shit rn but i still wanna make a good first impression

HIIIIIII NAE ML OMG!!!!!!! i started fanning myself like a damsel in distress as soon as i saw this EEEEEEE giving u the biggest kiss rn ur the cutest

love you, love you, love you.

yandere asylum therapist! suguru x reader

my first ever dark content/yandere oneshot aaaaaa!!! plsss thoroughly go through the cw’s before reading ^^;

cw’s!!: non-consensual drugging, mentions of needles/syringes, medical malpractice, descriptions of violence (gutting, beating someone to death, etc.), mentions/romanticization of cannibalism, blood eating, medical abuse (???), gn! reader, no use of y/n, uhhhh freaky suguru. like he’s actually crazy (but so are u) and uhhh i think that’s it?? ^^;

wc: 1.3k (what.)

“how have you been feeling?” your therapists voice is soft, just barely loud enough for you to hear. it’s like he’s trying to grasp at any sense of normalcy, as if any of this was normal. your head feels like it’s filled with cotton when you move to look at him, a deadly look in your dazed, slow-blinking eyes.

he completely disregards your glare with nothing but a growing smirk, shifting to adjust your position on his lap. “i see you’ve taken well to the sedatives.” his cold hand grazes your bare arm as he speaks and you have to resist the urge to use all of the strength you have left to throw yourself onto the floor just to get away from him. you decided against it. you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you like that.

suguru’s a charming man. every nurse, therapist, and criminal in this hellhole of an institution knew that. maybe that’s why he clung to you like this. you saw through him, had threatened to knock his teeth out just because you found his smile unsettling in the preliminary meeting (“a convenient way to find your perfect fit!” is what one of the brochures had read).

a few weeks later he was your primary therapist. the only one allowed to see you for sessions and the only one able to prescribe what medicine you took.

this time it was a strong sedative administered by needle, only given to you the one day a week you saw him for your “sessions”. he seemed to enjoy this one, considering how he hadn’t switched the prescription in almost a month (though you were sure he was upping the dose every week, there was no other explanation for the way the syringe seemed to get more and more full every time you saw the nurses holding it).

it’s only now that he seemed to notice the narrow-eyed expression you were giving him. “aw, don’t look at me like that… it’s for my safety, angel. i can’t have you lashing out and hurting me, can i?” his palm rests on your cheek and as much as you will the muscles in your neck to jerk away from his touch, it still doesn’t work. only a small grunt leaves you and that sound only heightens the amusement in his eyes.

“m’gonna fuckin’ kill you…” you manage to strain out. you despise how weak your voice sounds. you despise the way his eyebrow quirks up in interest in response to your threat. you despise how his voice comes out a low, patronizing purr when he asks “oh, are you?” because he knows you will. he knows that if he lowers your dose you won’t hesitate to hunt him down. he’s seen your files, he knows.

you let out a shaky breath at his words, that deadly glare in your eyes never faltering as your head nods in response to his question (though he’d barely constitute it as a nod, more like a subtle twitch of your muscles). “m’gonna gut you… cut you alllll the way from your bellybutton to your fuckin’ throat…” you can feel the delirium from your medication settling in when you’re halfway through speaking, but that doesn’t stop you.

“how gruesome.” is all he hums, a deep, twisted glint of admiration in his gaze. “you’ve certainly grown more creative.” the pad of his thumb presses into your bottom lip as he speaks. he seems almost satisfied with your violent description, like you’d just given him the greatest gift he could possibly ask for (to him, it was).

he couldn’t help but feel touched by your words, how you planned something particularly torturous just to bring him as much pain as possible. the way you hurt people — at least before you were admitted — was concise and unmeditated. someone made you lose your temper so you hurt them, plain and simple as that. you were only able to plead insanity because of the way you “blacked out”, only noticing the soreness in your arms (and the brain matter in your hair) after you had beat a man to death.

so for you — a patient with uncontrollable violent outbursts — to plan something specific just for him? oh, he could feel the pleasant chill rolling down his spine. how would you do it, suguru wondered. would you steal a scalpel from the nurses or a knife from the kitchen? would the way you cut him open be clean — planned, even — or would you just hack at his skin until you were satisfied? he could almost imagine the way you’d pin him down (not like you had to, he’d let you see his insides if you asked politely enough) and run the cool metal over his abdomen before he felt the sharp contrast of the warmth of his blood trickling down his skin. he could only hope he would be alive long enough to see the crimson tainting the pretty skin of your hands, getting under your nails and sinking into the grooves of your palms, absorbing every drop of him.

suguru was so lost in his fantasies that he didn’t notice the way you had squinted at his far away expression, a muscle in your jaw giving a small twitch. maybe if you…

suguru also didn’t notice the way you had managed to slowly pry your jaw open, the tip of his thumb now resting against the ridges of your bottom row of teeth. at least, he didn’t notice until you miraculously willed your jaw to snap shut, the metallic taste on your tongue bringing you a primal sense of satisfaction (you would’ve preferred to bite the the tip of his thumb clean off to teach him a lesson, but this would do).

and oh, you would’ve laughed in his face if you could when you heard that strangled little gasp leave his lips. you relished in the way he watched you with a dumbfounded look, his usually piercing eyes opened wide in surprise.

your victory was disturbingly short lived, though. his shock quickly turned into something almost giddy with the way his eyes seemed to light up like a child who was just handed their favorite toy. he forced his thumb deeper into your mouth, his head cocking to the side almost observantly. “how do i taste, angel? hm?” there’s a crazed look in his eyes. you feel like you’re getting dissected. “maybe you should eat me after you cut me open, yeah? i’d let you, you have my permission.” he’s all too eager to give you more ideas, more ways to torture him even after death.

his arm snakes around your middle so he can press a palm to your stomach. “i’d be with you forever… wouldn’t you like that, angel?” he murmurs lowly by your ear. you don’t have the strength to answer anymore, your eyes blinking slower… and slower…

he holds you tight as you slump against him, (the sedatives make you intensely drowsy… it doesn’t help that he had prescribed you double the recommended amount) making a mental note to up your dosage once again. he can’t risk you building up some sort of immunity, can he? if the force of your bite was any indication, he’d have to find a new medicine for you within the next month or two (not like it was any hassle on his end. if anything, he was excited to see your adorably pathetic attempts to brute force your way through the daze of a new drug).

he just had to keep you here with him… you’d learn to love it.

to love him.

➺ wolf!suguru x lamb!reader x serpent!satoru

cw: suggestive, mouth inspection (you like their mouth), suguru wears a muzzle, teasing, gagging, spit, blood (dw it's only a tiny bit & he kisses it better :>) , biting, etc ..

the wolf!suguru and serpent!satoru brainworms are backkk :3

serpent!satoru wraps himself around you, holding you in his strong limbs, cool glistening scales press into your soft delicate skin, sure to be leaving little imprints for you to find later. his forked tongue peaks out from between his glossed lips as he sniffs around — you smell so sweet. his split tongue catches your attention, and like the naive little lamb you are disguised as, carefully, curiously, you bring your fingers to it. holding the warm wet flesh of his tongue between your fingers, just feeling it; it's soft. satoru grins evilly; you're so trusting, so daring as you play with his tongue and putting your little fingers in the serpents mouth. teasingly, satoru wraps his tongue around them, trapping your fingers in a tight hold. hugging them tightly with his tongue, until your eyes finally meet his like he's been wanting. he releases them with a satisfied glint in his eyes as you move your fingers along the textured surface of it, inching closer to his glossed lips, he says nothing as you do. you're entranced, your fingers drag higher and higher along his tongue, drawing teasing shapes on the way (he thinks he recognizes them as characters that spell out your name but that could just be his mind playing silly tricks.) you trace the shape of his sharp fangs, pressing ever so lightly against the sharp ends. it's not enough to break skin only enough to sting a little. when you pull away to look him, pulled from your own world by that pleasant sting at your fingertip you find that serpent!satoru's eyes are already on you, looking throughly entertained by all this, perhaps a little bashful as well if you look hard enough. a soft glowing pink at the tips of his ears, you aren't alone in enjoying this.

wolf!suguru is wearing a muzzle. you had insisted. his remarks the last time around having stuck with you a little more than you could have anticipated. so here you are, little lamb back in the wolves lap with a flimsy contraption made of metal and leather restricting his jaw from opening in full (or rather that that's the intended purpose) your drum your fingers against his chest, playfully. teasingly. his threatening teasing remarks land a lot softer with his jaw securely bound. your nails clink against the metal softly, the sound hitting your ears like your favourite song, there's a smug little smile on your lips and your eyes all too self satisfied as you look back into his. while still holding your gaze, you slip your two of your fingers through the small space between the metal bars of his muzzle, tracing over the shape of his soft lips. you press the tips at the centre to pry them apart, your two fingers glide across the surface of his sharp teeth and along the inside of his lips. suguru's jaw is locked, not allowing you further access into his mouth. suguru's eyes follow each of your movements. waiting, patient. hoping to see how far you will take this. you look up into his eyes, a little pout on your pretty lips, wordlessly pleading — he never says no when you do. loosening his jaw a little for you to slip into his mouth. you follow the curves of his teeth, and venture further into his warm mouth, pressing down against tongue. the wetness of it making your fingers slip further in he nearly gags. although your movements are limited by the metal against his face, you do your best to reach further into his mouth. wanting to feel his throat tighten around your fingers once more, to see another line of drool escape his lips, to hear the little sound you would've never guessed would come from the wolf. straining your fingers against the metal, reaching, you're about to do it again when his teeth come down on your fingers, biting into the soft skin enough for only a few crimson droplets to land on his waiting tongue. you gasp at that (more in shock than pain) pulling them away quickly, suguru catch's you before you get far, holding your wrist in place, keeping your fingers on his lips and your body secured in his lap. the metal you strain your fingers against begins to burn. suguru licks the blood still oozing from where he pieced your skin, kissing gently the little cut for good measure. his sharp purple eyes meet your now glossy meek gaze, the sight bringing that hungry grin to his lips. some leather and metal wont protect you from him if he did wanna bite. oh the little lamb isn't so self satisfied now.

alr this idea has been perpetuated tenfold. if i post dbf! shiu at any point this week blame nae.

actually i need to have the nastiest sex w shiu rn like this isn’t even funny