#go spam elsewhere

[ifoundaflamingsword]

Hey beautiful I am sorry if this offends you but I find you really attractive and I’d like you to be my sugar baby just letting you know my intentions incase you will be interested... we could talk terms and weekly allowance later .... just basically paying for your time. dm me if you’re interested ❤️❤️

I literally just posted about my engagement dude, read the lesbian room

[house-of-tykayl]

my only good drawings

[variousandnefarious]

girl I’m banning every pyra mythra player that enters my arena idc you are gone

[quagsthecryptid]

Hahaha,,,, anyways.

[dreamofimmortality]

oh also . informs u that i'm doing a reread and liveblogging it here on the sideblog 👍👍

[ba9go]

bakugou katsuki finds you annoying (he can’t stop thinking about you) pt. 1

sort-of enemies to lovers with bakugou katsuki <3

read part 2 💥 part 3 (nsfw)

from the very moment you walked into the 1-a classroom, you set off a ticking time bomb in bakugou katsuki. he hated your guts.

it was early in the morning, with about 20 minutes till class started. bakugou was seated in his chair, leaning back with his eyes closed, when all of a sudden he hears this agitating, grating voice.

his eyes snapped open and flicked to the source of the sudden noise.

you.

you stood in the doorway, bowing and apologising refusely to fucking icyhot for running into him. bakugou took one look at your stature next to todoroki’s and huffed. ‘idiot walks into a wall and apologises. what a dimwit.’

bakugou watches as todoroki awkwardly but earnestly bows back at you with a murmured apology of his own. you pause mid-bow to shake your head, “no, no, no, this was entirely my fault!” and bakugou thinks he can feel his temple twitch when you start laughing. “god, i’m sorry, we just look so stupid right now!”

‘damn right you do, fucking morons.’ bakugou tears his gaze away from your bright smiling face and spams the volume-up button on his phone until ears (jirou) can actually overhear travis scott from his earphones and flinches beside him.

bakugou closes his eyes and sighs through his nostrils. it’s way too fucking early for this.

later that day, aizawa-sensei announces that you’d be joining class 1-a as u.a.’s newest transfer student, and invites you to introduce yourself in front of the class.

you stood beside aizawa and introduce yourself with yet another beaming smile. your bright eyes roam around the classroom from face to face as you address your new classmates, until they land on bakugou, who narrows his eyes and glares at you.

bakugou feels a strange sense of satisfaction, watching you stutter mid-sentence, and he thinks you’re such an idiot, but then your eyes quickly dart away to look elsewhere and bakugou is somehow even more pissed off by you.

so he grinds his teeth and tears his gaze away from you once more to look out the window.

the rest of the week goes smoothly for you as you quickly befriended the class. with the exception of one, everyone seemed friendly and warm and genuinely interested to get to know more about you and your quirk. likewise, you were just as curious and enthusiastic about getting to know your classmates. with the exception of one.

you ignored bakugou like the plague — just as he’d wanted, bakugou thinks. you’re an eyesore, the way you’re all smiley and giggly, all of the damn time. bakugou hates it, hates the look in your eyes, like you’re so damn happy and you’re somehow just always having the time of your damn life.

‘just another fucking weakling who won’t last.’

it doesn’t take bakugou a long time to realise that his judgement of you was entirely off. you were in fact, not a weakling. you were strong, and you proved it every single time, putting your all in every training and going above and beyond with your hand stretched out to anyone who needed it, all the while with that damn smile on your face.

one training, bakugou busted one of his gauntlets. he had expected it, had already sensed that something was off when he was gearing up before training. he cursed under his breath and went to remove it, when you suddenly spawned by his side and scared the living shit out of him.

not that he’d ever admit it, but hearing your voice was enough to make his hair stand on end.

“hey, um, do you need help with that?” you asked, and bakugou freezed as you looked at him with those big, innocent eyes. “your gear, i mean.”

“hah?” bakugou flares up instinctively. it’s his default response to being approached, after all. “the fuck do you know about fixing jackshit?”

“oh, um, i tinker with a bunch of random stuff sometimes, so i figured maybe i could—”

“like hell i’m gonna let some idiot like you tinker with my shit,” bakugou sneers at you, and you flinch but you don’t take a step back. “find somethin’ else ta do if yer bored, sunshine.”

“sunshine— what—” you genuinely look a little concerned and even a little offended as you guffaw over bakugou’s words. “my quirk has nothing to do with sunshine!”

“hah?! ya think i’m stupid or some shit?! ‘course i know that it’s got shit to do with the sun, moron!”

“then why in the world would you call me that?!”

“i’ll call you whatever the fuck i want, shitface!”

then, class prez tenya iida dashes to break up the “fight”. “YOU TWO!!! BAKUGOU ESPECIALLY, CEASE YOUR SQUABBLING THIS INSTANT!!! SUCH PROFANITY IS NOT BECOMING OF A FUTURE—”

later that evening, you find yourself seated on the couch watching alien: covenant in the common room with kirishima, kaminara, sero and mina. however, you’re not paying much attention to whatever that egomaniac david’s doing in the movie, you’re still dwelling on how horribly your first proper interaction with bakugou had gone.

“y/n, darling, would you please tell us what’s wrong? this is, like, the tenth time you’ve sighed, and i know david is not that hot,” mina nudges your arm with an elbow. kaminari squawks in defiance, crying out that “if david’s not hot, i’m toast!” and kirishima reassuring him that he’ll be just fine, because “david’s just not manly, man!”.

“yeah, it’s not david,” you sighed yet again, and mina facepalms so hard you wince. “sorry, it’s just, i’m still a little peeved by what happened during training today.”

“bakugou, huh?” kirishima shoots you a wry smile, nodding sympathetically. “don’t mind it too much, bakugou’s just always like that!”

“i know, i know, but why the fuck did he call me sunshine?” you groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving your face into it.

“holy shit, okay, guys, this must be really bad,” kaminari shoots up from his horrendous slouched position and grabs sero’s shoulders to shake him like it’s the end of the world. “y/n just swore, and bakugou is acting up! i mean, that doesn’t sound like bakugou at all!”

“okay, firstly, kaminari, i hate to break it to you, bud, but i swear. like, a lot,” you dropped the pillow in your lap. “secondly, what do you mean bakugou’s acting up? doesn’t he call everyone names all the time?”

“yeah, insultingly,” jirou walks by the common room and chimes in. she points at the earphone jacks dangling from her ears. “i’m “ears.””

“i’m pinky,” mina hums in agreement.

“soy-sauce face,” sero deadpans.

“dunceface!” kaminari high-fives sero.

“and bakugou calls me shitty hair,” kirishima completes with a sigh. “what did he call you again?”

“moron, sunshine, and shitface, i think?” an awkward silence falls over the room, and you frown. “what? what does that mean? does he, like, really hate the sun or something?”

“…not that i know of? but it sounds like, uh,” kirishima scratches his head and gives you another one of those wry smiles. “sounds like you don’t completely piss bakugou off.”

extras:

yes that was an abby miller reference

yes i have walked into a wall yes i apologised

i REALLY wanna watch alien romulus in cinemas soon PLS NO SPOILERS

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss

[hypnagogics]

more thinkin, more blurbin is being done so...now i can't stop thinking about kissing all over ellie's body before you go down on her HEH. #givemethat. as per uzh idfk what this is. foreplay blurb? kinda fluffy, nsfw but not tewww much? HAPPY TRAIL MENTION. "where are all these random ass blurbs coming from?" ask ur mom.

you admire her bare form with nothing but love in your eyes, grinning widely at the sight before you. she looked so beautiful like this, a sea of creamy skin adorned with cinnamon flecks and a coral dusting of blush, the thinnest sheen of sweat making her sparkle like a fairy.

tattoed hand rising to cover her face, "you gonna keep staring at me or you gonna do something?" she probed with a light teasing edge to her voice—despite her shyness, she was charmed.

"ellie, you're too fuckin' pretty. do you know that?" the blush in her face only deepened to a fresh crimson color, the flattery feeling foreign to her. "i'm gonna take my time." you mumble, slowly leaning in to her neck, which she had so conveniently craned her head to the side to give you easy access. you kiss, you nip, and you nibble on the sweet, sensitive skin, making sure to hover over her in such a way that your body grazes hers just right. content sighs fall from her lips and she closes her eyes in enjoyment.

you begin the descent—smooch, smooch, smooch on her throat to her elegant collarbones, then you drop down to her soft chest. you bring your hand to paw at the flesh, circling her pebbled nipple with your thumb, while you lower your mouth to the other one, wrap your lips around the bud and suck her in your mouth. she grips onto your head tightly, her back arching at the sensation, breathy moans of your name filling your ears. "thats— that's so good." you release her with a pop, then move on down some more.

you place your hands on her sides, fingertips dancing on her hipbones, tongue exploring her skin, tasting her. you kiss a line down the center of her abdomen, paying special attention to her happy trail, naturally. you licked a stripe up the entire length of it, raising your line of sight to stare her right in the eyes.

she bucked her hips up in frustration, growing increasingly needy for your touch elsewhere. she whined and huffed, grumbling, "cmon, stop being such a fuckin' tease." but you paid no mind, she always got what she craved in the end. you were having a jolly old time making this simply agonizing.

you smiled against her skin, her spunky attitude being one of your favorite features of hers. so you shifted even further downward and decided you'd hook your hands under her thighs and push them up high—almost flush to her chest, putting her on full display for you. you saw the way she was breathing, her chest rising and falling with impatience, and noticed the stifled whimpers fighting their way out of her bitten lips.

you gently squeezed the supple flesh of her thighs, running your mouth along the inside and kissing to your heart's content—not one freckle left un-smooched. you moved inward, and stopped to suck—making sure to leave a small blooming purplish mark, as a lovely reminder for later. you savored her softness for a little while longer, then finally moved all the way in to shove your face in her dripping core, and pleasured her 'till she shook. ♡

decided i will put my taglist on here anyway...SAWRY CANT EVER DECIDE WHETHER TO OR NOT CUZ I DONT WANNA SPAM AND USUALLY ONLY DO FOR FR FICS IDFK tell me if im annoying: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @ashaynep @flowrmoth @liddysflyer @fortune777 @claude999 @brunaedn @bunnitewsilly @mimasroom2

if you'd like to be tagged, fill out the form here!

[wavypotatochips]

Elevator Mishap || Central Cee

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : CentralCee x Female reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : You find yourself trapped in an elevator with a mysterious stranger who turns out to be the famous rapper Central Cee in disguise. [FLUFF/ LIGHT TENSION]

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵  

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HIIIII GUYS omg so much stuff has happened personally in my life but I am back and better!! Central Cee is so fine and I just always wanted to write something with him lol. Its been a while since I have wrote something, so bare with me c': I have no requests, so feel free to send some in! 

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ♥

"I find it hard to believe I'm actually here," you murmur under your breath, a mix of disbelief and disinterest coloring your tone as you wait for the elevator to reach your floor. While most girls would gush with excitement at the prospect of attending a Central Cee concert in the UK alongside their best friends, Stacey and Rosalina, you find yourself unable to share in their fervor. The trio, inseparable since middle school, practically dragged you along when they scored free tickets to the concert, complete with all expenses paid. Despite their infectious enthusiasm for Central Cee, you couldn't summon the same level of excitement, feeling rather indifferent towards his music. Meanwhile, your best friends are back in the hotel room, immersed in making TikToks while belting out Central Cee's tunes. You made an excuse about needing to run down to the convenience store on the ground floor to grab a snack, eager to escape the impending festivities. As the elevator doors finally slide open, you step inside, your mind already elsewhere, contemplating the potentially underwhelming night ahead, especially given your lack of interest in the artist.

Absentmindedly humming to yourself, you press the button for the ground floor before casually leaning against the elevator wall. A brief moment of panic strikes as you pat your pockets, realizing your phone must have been left behind in the hotel room. Before you can fully process this inconvenience, the elevator lurches upward, and a figure clad entirely in black, sporting a ski mask, shades, and a hat, enters. You brush off the peculiar attire, attributing it to the chilly weather outside, but a faint sense of unease begins to gnaw at you as the elevator door closes.

The person does not press any buttons, signaling they were also going to the bottom floor like you were. You tried not to stare at the person beside you, but the clothes they were wearing screamed wealth. You look at their shoes as the elevator begins to go down. Suddenly, the elevator comes to a stop with a shake. You widen your eyes as anxiety kicks in, confused on what is going on. You look over at the stranger, not being able to see their expression before walking over and pressing the first-floor button again. This time, the elevator doesn't seem to budge nor is it telling you what floor you two are currently on.

“There's no way,” noticing the elevator may be stuck, your heart sinks down. The stranger walks closer to you, giving them a try themselves to press the buttons. You step back to give them room. Noticing the buttons will not budge for them either, you sigh and press the red button that signals a representative. A few minutes pass before someone speaks, “Hello? Is everything alright?,” the statically voice states.

“Yeah, ummm I think the elevator is stuck. We also can’t see what floor we are on,” you respond.

“Okay, please remain calm we are sen-,” the voice cuts off.

“Hello?,” you question, “HELLLOOOOOO?,” spamming the button again.

“Lady we can't hear YOUUU!,” You state pressing the button.

“You should stop before you break it.” The voice of the person speaks with a deep British accent, you now know they are a male. You turn to look at him, continuing to press the button a few more times before stopping. You sigh, sitting down on the floor.

“Just great,” you mumble while lowering your head in defeat. You are not someone with claustrophobia, plus the elevator was a decent size so it's not as if you were scared you were trapped. Only annoyed. While your head is low, you hear clothes shuffling causing you to look back up. The man begins to take off his coat and hat, probably also realizing we are not going to be getting out anytime soon. You shift your legs so you are now sitting criss-cross on the floor, your back against the wall as you look up at the elevator's ceiling.

“Don't worry, I bet they will come soon,” the man speaks once again with a reassuring voice. You keep your head up, “I know, it just sucks. This is my first time in the UK and I'm spending my first night trapped in an elevator with a stranger, no offense.” You hear a chuckle, ”None taken. What are you in the UK for if you don't mind me asking?” You can tell he just wanted small talk, and you didn't mind. I mean after all, you are stuck here for who knows how long.

 “My Best friends and I are here for the Central Cee concert,” you respond, continuing to study the French painting that is plastered on the ceiling of the elevator.

“Are you excited to go?,” he questions, resulting in you shrugging,” I don't care too much about him. Nothing against him, but you know, not really my taste.”

Silence settles between you for a moment, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the intercom and the faint hum of the elevator's mechanisms.

"So, what brings you to the concert if you're not a fan?" he asks, curiosity evident in his voice.

You offer a half-smile, considering your response. "Honestly, I'm just here for my friends. Stacey and Rosalina are huge fans, and they practically begged me to come along. Figured it would be a fun night out, even if the music isn't really my thing."

He nods in understanding, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Ah, the sacrifices we make for friendship," he muses, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. “Maybe after the concert you will be my fan.”

His unexpected comment catches you off guard, and you find yourself momentarily taken aback. With a furrowed brow, you glance down, your eyes widening and eyebrows raising in confusion. And there he stands, Central Cee himself, his presence suddenly filling the confined space of the elevator. His pearly white teeth glint in the dim light, a charming smile gracing his lips.

If your best friends were in your position, they probably would have passed out by now. But you? You simply let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly. “Mmmmm I don't think so. Your music just isn't my type,” you reply, your tone casual yet resolute. You glance back up at the ceiling, your interest clearly elsewhere.

Central Cee seems momentarily taken aback by your nonchalant response. He had perhaps expected screams of excitement or frenzied fangirling – or perhaps even both. But your composed demeanor only serves to intrigue him further. He closes his lips, the smile still lingering on his face, his gaze lingering on you with newfound curiosity.

"Really now?" he questions, a playful glint in his eyes. "What exactly is your type, hmm?"

“Not you, so it doesn't matter,” you respond with a casual flick of your gaze, focusing on your nail as if it holds the answers to the universe. Impatience begins to creep into your movements, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the control panel, where you futilely press the buttons at random.

"Well, I would like to know," he persists, closing the distance between you with a deliberate step.

"It doesn't matter," you retort, your tone edged with determination.

"Yes, it does," he insists.

"No, it doesn't," you counter.

"Yes, it does."

"No, it do—" You cut yourself off mid-sentence, the absurdity of the situation dawning on you. "Wait, why am I even going back and forth with you?" The question is more to yourself, but Central Cee decides to respond.

"Because you do like me."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I—" You catch yourself falling into the same cycle, causing him to chuckle.

"You know, you're cute when you get mad," he remarks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His words elicit a soft blush from you, prompting you to turn away and face the wall. "Leave me alone," you mumble.

"Awww, I'm sorry, love. Let me make it up to you," he responds cheekily.

"Make it up to me by getting this damn elevator to work," you grumble under your breath.

"If you can admit that I am your favorite artist, then I will make that happen," he confesses, catching you off guard.

You raise an eyebrow, turning to face him. "How?"

He tilts his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Say it, and I will make it happen."

You exhale heavily, skepticism evident in your expression. "Why does it matter to you so much?" you question.

He shrugs, smiling. "Simply because."

You glare at him, his grin only widening in response. You decide to humor him, considering his celebrity status and the possibility of connections. "Fine. You are my favorite artist."

He raises his eyebrows, amused by your half-hearted admission. "I don't think that was sincere enough for me."

You let out another small breath.  Stepping closer to him, you meet his gaze head-on. "Oakley, you are my favorite artist. I love your music so much; you are so talented."

His demeanor softens, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. Something about saying his real name seems to have an effect on him. Whether it's your beauty or simply the use of his name, it stirs something within him, making him feel... nice.

You find yourself studying his features, admiring the way his light tan skin complements the arch of his eyebrows and the depth of his chocolate eyes. His small smile draws your attention, and you instinctively take a step back, coughing lightly to dispel the tension.

"Uhm... okay, I said it. Now, do your magic."

"You're right," he responds, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

"YOU HAD A PHONE THIS ENTIRE TIME??" you exclaim, incredulous.

"Yes," he simply responds, unlocking his phone.

You sigh. "Why didn't you say something?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Who wouldn't want to be trapped in an elevator with a beautiful girl like you?"

You open your mouth to reply, but the fluttering sensation in your stomach leaves you speechless. Despite your indifference towards his music, you can't deny his charm.

For a few moments, you find yourself lost in thought, your gaze dropping to your shoes. His voice interrupts your reverie, causing you to lift your head.

"Damn. I don't have any service," he says, raising his arm in a futile attempt to get a signal.

You watch as Central Cee furrows his brow in frustration, tapping futilely at his phone screen in a desperate attempt to find a signal. Despite the annoyance of being stuck in an elevator, you can't help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with him, a shared bond forged in the confines of this metal box.

As the seconds tick by, the silence between you grows heavier, the tension palpable in the air. You glance at Central Cee, taking in the way the dim light of the elevator accentuates the contours of his face, casting shadows that dance across his features. Despite your best efforts to ignore it, you can't deny the flutter of excitement that flits through your stomach at the sight of him.

"Anything yet?" you ask, breaking the silence with a voice that comes out softer than intended.

Central Cee shakes his head, his expression a mixture of frustration and resignation. "Nothing. It's like this elevator is in its own little world, cut off from the rest of the universe."

Central Cee chuckles softly, the sound echoing in the confined space. "and here I thought being a famous rapper would exempt me from getting stuck in elevators," he remarks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You smile, appreciating his attempt to inject a bit of humor into the situation. "Guess even celebrities aren't immune to elevator mishaps," you reply, your lips quivering in a half-smile.

He returns the smile, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "At least I'm stuck in here with someone interesting," he says, his tone laced with sincerity.

A blush rises to your cheeks at his compliment, and you quickly avert your gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Thanks," you mumble, "I guess you aren't so bad yourself.."

Central Cee's smile widens at your response, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment," he says, his tone teasing yet genuine.

You chuckle softly, feeling a sense of ease settle over you as the tension between you dissipates. "Consider it one," you reply, meeting his gaze with a shy smile.

As the moments pass, you find yourself drawn into conversation with Central Cee, the topics ranging from trivial matters to deeper discussions about life, dreams, and everything in between. Despite the unusual circumstances that brought you together, you can't help but feel a sense of connection with him, a feeling of understanding that goes beyond mere words.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity but is likely only a few hours, the elevator lurches back to life with a groan of protest, the sudden movement catching you off guard. Central Cee reaches out a hand to steady you, his touch warm and reassuring against your skin.

"We're moving again," he says, a note of relief in his voice.

You nod, a sense of anticipation building within you as the elevator ascends towards the surface. “Finally,” you say, though a pang of reluctance tugs at your heart. Deep down, you wish the elevator would stay broken, prolonging the fleeting moments you've shared with him. In the brief interlude of confinement, you've come to appreciate not just Central Cee, but the person behind the persona, Oakley. As the elevator hums back to life, you resign yourself to the inevitable parting that awaits you both, returning to the separate paths your lives had veered from.

Central Cee begins to adjust his attire, meticulously covering his features with the ski mask and glasses, returning to his "disguise". “Don't worry," you assure him, offering a small smile, "I won't breathe a word of this to anyone. It'll be our little secret.” Before he can respond, the elevator doors glide open, ushering in a flood of light and fresh air. Eager to break free from the confines of the elevator, you step out quickly, wary of being trapped again.

“Hey,” Central Cee calls out to you, his voice laced with a hint of concern, “I’ll see you tomorrow,yeah?” A flicker of something indefinable passes between you, a silent understanding that transcends words. Though you yearn for a deeper connection, you suppress the urge, unsure of what you truly desire. With a small smile, you nod in acknowledgement, “Yeah.”

As you both walk away, your steps leading you in opposite directions, you can't help but feel a sense of resonance, a shared moment that binds you together in thought. Despite the divergence of your paths and the separation of your lives, in that fleeting instant, your minds are aligned, fixated on each other, entwined in a momentary bond that defies explanation.

[illuminiscentboba]

will iwaizumi get the memo? (he will, finally omfg)

plot: where you so obviously like him to the point that even oikawa is well aware of this crush but iwaizumi misinterprets your relationship with oikawa and is proven otherwise

its another rough day of studying, forcing yourself to read just another page before you give in but your mind already drifted elsewhere, the words your reading not actually flowing comprehensively in your head.

you had plans after this, plans to see iwaizumis childhood pictures with oikawa. you had helped the unserious volleyball freak run errands among other favors and he had offered you favors you could cash in whenever you wanted.

and today was the day, you were hoping to see a stunning, tan skin buff guy cooking at oikawas apartment but if he didn't come at least you would be able to look at the pictures.

packing up your bag with haste, you rushed to catch the train, already mentally preparing yourself for all the teasing you would get from the brunette as you melted at their childhood pictures.

you can already hear his coos and "you want him so bad," "simp" especially with how smug he looked whenever you guys were in the room together, god forbid how obvious and irritating he was when you guys would talk and do activities together.

Thankfully, his place wasn't far, you knocked and a long duration of time passed, before you knocked again, maybe they didn't hear you? you continued to wait, still nothing.

finally just as you were about to spam call your friend, the door swung open, apologies flowing out of the mans mouth, but not your friends mouth. a different mans mouth, his damp hair drooping, his lips curling into a half smile. "hey, y/n. shittykawa told me you were coming."

"hey." you greeted back, beating oikawa up in your head. "sorry if I made you rush out of the shower, he told me he'd be here by now."

"no problem, I looked kind of crazy earlier so I'm glad he told me so that I could freshen up." he freshened up because he heard you were coming? you tried not to let the delusions go to your head as he, picked your heavy bag swiftly off your shoulder, headed down the hall. he picked up a towel propped on the counter to continue drying his hair.

you made yourself comfortable on the sofa, trying to spot where your enemy, you mean oikawa, put the photoalbum.

iwaizumi watched your curious glances around the room. he had been wanting to hang out with you one on one and if this was the chance he'd be dumb not to take it. he reached into the drawer, pulling out the thick albums.

"looking for this?" he headed over with two albums, one with a baby plastered over it, the other with volleyballs on it.

"yeah, did he tell you to give me this too?" that sneaky man. "yeah, but he didn't tell me which one." that was a lie, oikawa had insisted he bring out the album he had with the two of them but why would you want to see that when there was already an album with just oikawa you could see.

he slumped into the sofa next to you the album with him and oikawa on his lap as he handed you the other one.

you flipped it open, trying not to think about how close you guys were and the way he leaned closer to see. you flipped through one page, then another then a few more, your pace quickening. did oikawa get confused? and thought you wanted to see him and not the sexy man beside you that you talk about eveyr week?

"wait slow down,"

"oh sorry, let me go back."

"no thats not what I meant...wait didn't you want to see these pictures? aren't you going too quickly to see them?"

he turns to look you in the eyes as you force away a conflicted look, not sure how to go about this.

"here look, thats oikawa this is when he lost his first tooth and finished crying about it." he points to the page, reaching over to flip to the next one for you. and here is when he caught his first ever fish, I caught an even bigger one but I don't know where the picture of that went.

he pointed out a few more with funny stories attatched to them, enjouying your giggles, and the questions about where he was during these pictures and what other memories does he remember with them.

he found himself talking much more than usual and more about himself than oikawa. he tried to get back to the topic, but you effortlessly returned the topic back to him, who you were more curious about.

In fact the photo album was brought back to his lap, and you were hardly focused on it, watching him as he recalled the stories.

"actually...there are some photos of me and him if you want to see."

he gestured to the book under the open album on his lap and you couldn't hide your enthusiasm as he handed you the album. "oh my god." you shrieked, stretching out the letters. oikawa had told you that iwaizumi was a roundfaced, skinny little kid that expressed himself well with his eyes, his sharp tongue, never failing him over the years but god was he adorable.

"oh my gosh you guys look soooo cute!" iwaizumi is complebely flabbergasted by your reaction. you looked at oikawas childhood pictures with barely much enthusiasm, the occasional giggle or oh my god coming from your mouth as you quickly flipped though it.

but here you were closely examining the pictures with you two together. you flip through a few more at a slower pace, stealing glances at him and baby iwaizumi, the sharp, angular jawline nothing like the circular face with plumb cheeks holding objects greater than his size.

"do you think I don't look cute anymore?" he jokes, catching onto your comparison. "well, growing has done you justice." he chuckles, telling you in detail his stories of bravery in the wilderness, and the mundane, shifting closer as he explains.

"please...why do you look so happy holding up these creatures?" you say through a fit of laughter. his obsession with bugs was hard to explain, you laugh at the embarassed scratch of his neck and flush, calling him one of those bug catcher pokemon trainers you fight against your will at the start of most games.

"bugs are terrifying, now I know who to call when I see a spider."

"they aren't that bad." "yeah they are" "your missing out." he insists, a soft smile growing on his face.

you point out another of those picture of iwaizumis chest swelling with pride as he displayed other strange objects to the camera and oikawa, and he lifts his shirt, pointing to the nicks and old scars on his body from those adventures.

you run a careful hand over the scars on his arm, his voice still laced with warmth startling you. "you should bring your baby pictures next time. I want to see them."

"do you?" you lift your head from his arm, looking directly up into his eyes. "and do you want the storylines behind my pictures?"

"I sure do." he hums, shifting your hair from your face. "though they're probably not that different from your face right now."

he can't dodge your swipe with how close you guys are, catching your arms with a laugh. "are you saying im the epitome of youth?"

"no im saying you could still do some growing." now maybe you won't be showing him your baby pictures.

the door suddenly slams open, a frazzled oikawa carrying an armful of groceries, the stack of it covering his face.

"y/n?? are you here?! did you find the iwa-chan album?" iwaizumis already straightening you up and untangling your limbs, the what have I told you about bringing everything up at once by yourself coming out of his mouth before he processes oikawas words.

"wait, you came here to see my baby pictures? and not his?" oikawa barely make it to the counter with the cluster of stuff. already stepping away after he places it onto the counter, sensing he's messed up.

"well...I can explain...."

yall shld read this:

studying with a sleepy akaashi and him pulling moves on you (they're working)

[cheollipop]

chicken noodle soup

navi | taglist | pt.2

pairing: choi san x gn!reader

w.c.: 2.0k

tags: sick fic, fluff, so much fluff, I warned you

After a whole day without a peep from your boyfriend – someone who couldn't go an hour without talking to you – you make your way to his apartment. Panicked, you walk in, only to find him battling with a cold, hair greasy and dishevelled. Tucking him into bed, you make him soup and nurse him back to health with as many kisses and cuddles needed to see those dimples breaching the soft skin of his cheeks.

A/N: when I finished writing this, I definitely did not scream into a pillow while kicking my feet. and I absolutely was NOT smiling and giggling the whole time I was proofreading it either.

Your keys rattled and chimed in the empty hallway as you unlocked the door with the spare key your boyfriend had given you. You weren’t sure what to expect exactly – was he kidnapped, did someone break in and hurt him? He was a strong man, fully capable of protecting himself, but what if he had been ambushed? You battled these thoughts and begged them out of your mind as you stepped into your boyfriend’s apartment. No blood on the floor. You almost sigh in relief. But also no San in sight.

He often reminded you of a puppy on crack, unable to contain all the energy and excitement rushing through his system. He couldn’t go an hour without texting you – asking about what you were doing, sending you random selfies with his face smushed against the camera, spamming you with pictures of a cat he saw on the street, using anything and everything as an excuse to talk to you. So him going missing for a whole day? It’s definitely a reason to panic.

A door opened to your right – the bathroom. It’s too late to hide. The intruder will take you just like he took San.

A mop of greasy hair peeked out of the doorway; eyes wide as they took in your presence. You finally let out that sigh. San. You moved forward to wrap your arms around him, but he stepped back.

“I’d keep your distance babe, I’m pretty gross.” His voice was hoarse, eyebrows furrowing as he swallowed around his dry throat. You took in his appearance, hair sticking up, left, right, anywhere but down, his eyes bloodshot and teary, nose sniffling. You’d think he was crying if it weren’t for the painful bob of his adam’s apple as he tried to swallow around his inflamed throat.

“Are you sick? San, why didn’t you call me?” You covered his forehead with your palm, heat searing through your skin upon contact.

He sniffed. “It’s just a cold. I didn’t want you to worry.” You almost leaned in and kissed the pout off his lips, but you managed to stop yourself.

“Oh, Sannie.” You noticed the sway of his limbs as he used up the last of his energy to remain upright, taking one of his hands and moving towards his bedroom. “Let’s get you into bed.”

--

You moved the ladle around in the pot, watching the different veggies swim in the simmering broth, overlapping with the noodles and chicken. Your mind was elsewhere, stuck worrying about the man you tucked into bed two hours ago; still sleeping soundly, even with a stuffy nose. You felt silly fretting over a simple cold, but seeing San drained of all the energy he loved sharing with everyone around him was not something you were used to. You heard him cough a few times as you poured the soup into his favourite bowl – Shiba Inu’s decorating the glossy exterior. Placing it on a tray, you peeked your head through his bedroom door, checking on the slumbering man inside.

“Hello,” his gravelly voice greets you.

“Good morning, princess,” you smile, placing the tray on his nightstand, switching on the lamp. The light was bright enough for you not to trip over his mess and die, but dim enough not to hurt his sensitive eyes.

You helped him sit up against his headboard, his head tilted sideways to watch as you pull his gaming chair away from his desk, using it to sit by his bed.

“Have you always been this pretty, or is it the cold doing something to my vision?”

Your cheeks flushed, and your hands fumbled to grab the spoon set next to the bowl, the tray resting evenly over your thighs. The liquid rippled at your movement and San’s lips quirked upwards, dimples dipping into the skin of his cheeks. You scooped some soup into the spoon, blowing softly at the steaming liquid before bringing it to San’s mouth, hand cupped under his chin. He let out a prolonged moan as he swallowed, closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly in delight – an exaggeration. He stopped as his headache panged harder against his temple, pressing his fingers against it, eyes scrunched shut.

“Idiot,” you said. A cute idiot, your brain added.

His hand clutched his chest, eyes opening to peer at you. “Is this how you treat a sick man, (Y/n)? I’m hurt.”

“You have a cold. You’re not dying.” You poked his cheek, where his dimple would usually be.

You resisted the urge to kiss his pouty lips yet again, your fingers twitching around the spoon you were holding idly. This task was becoming more and more difficult by the second. You settled on pinching his cheek, fingers slipping to stroke against his jawline. You shared the comfortable silence, gazing into his droopy eyes, tracing lines down his jaw, and circles on the high of his cheek.

Then he sneezed. Everywhere. And again, the second one ripping through his chest in a way that must have hurt.

He babbled apologies as you grabbed the tissue box by his bedside. “Baby, blow your nose.” You stifled a laugh as you watch him do as you said, wiping your own hands with wet wipes you pulled out of his nightstand drawer. You pull another wipe out, reaching over to San’s sulky face, running it over his skin. The wrinkles between his eyebrows smoothed, savouring the cool touch of the wipe across his heated skin. You couldn’t help yourself, leaning in and planting a soft peck against his forehead, and his cheek, then his other one.

“Babe, stop,” he complained, half-heartedly trying to push you away, yet the smile splitting his face betrayed him.

“Stop what?” you pressed your lips to the corner of his, straying down to his chin, his jaw, then back up to his nose, eyelids. Then you started over, back at his forehead.

How could he pretend not to enjoy the softness of your lips against his skin? All he wanted was to pin you down and smother you with his love, and yet he couldn’t get you sick. Even though you got all whiny and needy, clinging onto him and nuzzling into his chest, claiming he was warmer than all your blankets combined. He did contemplate it, for a few seconds maybe, but ultimately decided against it. And yet, he would never deny the love you gave him.

“You know, I heard mouth-to-mouth helps get rid of colds reaaal quick.” The corners of his mouth tilted upwards, staring up at you through hooded eyes, drunk on kisses.

“Oh, really?” You couldn’t help but smile, endeared by this sudden change in attitude. He leaned closer to your face, lips puckering.

You shoved a spoonful of soup in his mouth, laughing as his eyes went wide, trying his best to swallow the liquid without choking.

“Ya! What was that for?”

“Keep your cold to yourself, Choi San,” you narrowed your eyes at him, eventually giving in and letting the smile you’d been hiding back stretch your mouth. You swear he will be the reason you’d get premature wrinkles in your smile line.

You fed him the rest of the warm liquid in silence. San’s head rested against the wooden headboard, eyes trained on you, not even looking at the spoon as you pushed it towards him. He trusted you wouldn’t let it spill on him. Besides, your face was too distracting – the way the tip of your tongue breached the corner of your lips in concentration, how your eyebrows furrowed and you’d mutter his name o’ so softly whenever San would get too absorbed in watching you to open his mouth, when your eyes lit up after he swallowed the last of the soup you had made for him. Everything about you was distracting, from the way your fingers softly worked to clean his mouth with a napkin, to the smile stretching your face, the corners of your eyes crinkling.

“You’re so beautiful,” he blurted out.

You were taken aback, eyebrows raising in surprise at the sudden statement. Blood rushed to your cheeks, and the butterflies battled within your stomach.

“Is this the cold speaking?”

“No. It’s me,” his face remained neutral, eyes focused on you. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever had the honour of laying my eyes on, inside and out. You always will be; I don’t think a person more beautiful than you will ever exist.”

Your lips parted, then closed, then opened again. You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? That whenever you were with him, he flooded your senses with joy, happiness, comfort? That his face alone could light up your whole world, and you felt like you could weather any storm so long as he remained by your side? And when he spoke so softly to you, throwing the sweetest phrases at you like it were nothing, you felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside by the voilent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach?

Love is you, was all you could think in that moment.

Before you could think of a response, a shiver ran through his body, his limbs shaking with the force of it. You stood up, tray in your hands. “I’ll grab some more blankets for you.” He took a hold of your wrist before you could move to the door.

“Don’t go. I’m okay.”

You hesitate.

“Just cuddle with me.”

You finally realized the power Choi San held over you as you carded your fingers through his matted locks. His face nuzzled against your collarbone, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Limbs tangled up under the thick comforter, you eased yourself down onto the pillow under your head, fingers scratching against San’s scalp. He hummed, soft puffs of air warming your skin. You felt him plant soft kisses along your neck, smiling against the column of your throat.

“Are you feeling better, Sannie?”

“Mm, my head still feels funny.”

You smiled, placing a kiss against the crown of his head, resting your lips there for a couple seconds before pulling back.

“Much better,” he purred, planting a peck of his own onto the nearest patch of skin to his lips.

You giggled, fingers continuing their ministrations against his scalp. The both of you laid there, bodies a tangled mess, breathing the same air, empty bowl of soup forgotten on the nightstand.

Soon, San’s grip around your waist would ease, his breathing growing even, body slumping against yours. You would lay there, marveling in the soft snores vibrating through the quiet room. He would deny this with his very being the next morning, but you’ll play along, keeping the voice notes you secretly recorded to yourself – perhaps sharing them with Wooyoung later on. Because just as adorable San was when he was sulky, you couldn’t help but try to keep him smiling. You would do anything to keep those dimples on show, every second of every day, for as long as he would allow you to remain by his side.

Soon, you’d sense your own drowsiness tugging at your eyelids until they fell shut. Your fingers would gradually cease their movements, stilling against his head, trapped between the soft strands. You’d nestle your face against San’s, unbothered by the germs that would soon sneak their way into your system. He’d take care of you if you ended up catching his cold, you were sure of it. Because just as much of an idiot San was, he never failed to make you feel safe, cared for, loved.

You surrendered yourself to the grip of sleep, San’s warm skin sending bolts of heat coursing through your body. Slipping into a comfortable slumber, your dreams – as usual – revolved around the man you were so helplessly infatuated with.

pt.2

apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[hwasdvlly]

Do Not Disturb | p.seonghwa

☆ summary: it's just a chill live stream, but something happens along the way.

☆ pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader

☆ genres: romance, fluff, and humor

☆ word count: 0.5k words

☆ warnings/tags: none. established relationship, idol!seonghwa, non-idol!reader, night vibes, live stream

☆ a/n: this was fun to write lol

Whenever he has freedom or alone time, Seonghwa will do live streams for fun. He also enjoys interacting with his fans.

In the streams, he would be his calm and collected self. The fans get stoked by seeing him in his element and love that he has the time to socialize virtually. Even though the group gets tired of hectic schedules, Seonghwa will always try to make the fans happy.

It’s 7 pm, and the idol is in the usual studio where he does his live streams. He still has on the makeup from today’s performance, snow-white hair pulled up, and simple clothes like a t-shirt and jeans—looking like a perfect artwork.

While listening to music and munching on some candy, a knock, more like pounding on the door, disrupts the pleasant mood.

Seonghwa rolls his smokey eyes in annoyance. He even lowers the volume. “What?” He asked, dreading to know who was knocking. The man turns the chair to see Wooyoung’s face squished against the glass door.

“What do you need?!” Seonghwa asked the younger one loudly. From the outside, Wooyoung makes goofy, high-pitched noises and waves. The fans in the comments are spamming about his cute appearance. Then, Wooyoung dashes off to elsewhere.

Seonghwa sighs in disbelief. “I swear. He is going to make me lose it.” The oldest shakes it off and continues the stream.

Ten minutes later, a knock on the door, except it wasn’t hard. Seonghwa shifts his torso, and instead of reacting bothersomely, he beams at the person. “Hi.” He replied lovingly.

You put on a shy smile as he opens the door. “Sorry to interrupt.” You apologized to him.

Seonghwa shakes his head and tells his girlfriend, “No, you’re fine. I wasn’t doing much. What do you need, love?” He asked in his soft voice.

Without them noticing, the fans are going wild in the comments. They’re delighted to see you in so long. You are pretty as ever, and how Seonghwa’s demeanor changes warms the people's hearts. He becomes more gentle, and the love in his eyes grows stronger.

“Do you have any snacks? The guys want to watch a movie.” You wondered. It’s also Hongjoong’s idea.

Seonghwa responded, “Yes, I do. I have a variety.” Of course he would be carrying them. Seonghwa pulls back the chair to grab his backpack under the desk. You patiently wait and notice the fans greeting you and saying you are beautiful.

“Hello, Atiny!” You waved at the iPad.

The man hears your sweet voice. His plump lips grin while taking out the snacks. Atinys caught it—they all screenshot the moment.

“Here you go.” He gives a handful of them. You thanked him greatly. Seonghwa walks up to you and places a kiss on your forehead. Seonghwa shifts to face the iPad. “Say bye to Y/N, guys!” He tells the people.

You did the same before leaving the room.

Seonghwa sits down to spend every minute of his time with his fans. He raises his deep brown orbs. He stumbles upon a comment, “The best couple in the world is Seonghwa and Y/N.” The idol reads it. A smirk plays on his pink lips.

“That’s right.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hii, could i have a Tangerine and fem!reader headcanons if its not to much trouble? maybe some angst to fluff hcs where she(r) overhears him calling her "clingy" and so she like stops giving him hugs and all? and she doesnt wear his clothes anymore and he asks her abt it one day and turns out it was a huge misunderstanding??? and then loads of fluff? sorry if its too much trouble but thanks!

hii!! ofc ofc. no trouble at all. hope you like it 💌

—

OVERHEARING AN ‘INSULT’ HC’s

I feel like tan is on the phone a lot - on a call to discuss details of a mission or just talking to lem about stuff. he'd be in his home office upstairs, maybe in there for most of the time he's home (when not away for work) so sometimes, you'd bring him up food/ snacks and drinks if he's been in there a while. a tea, pack of biscuits, maybe a sandwich. you'd stand outside with items in hand, and as you're about to knock, you hear him say, "...she's so clingy..."

he doesn't know other women (that you know of) so you assume he's talking about you. and the food in your hand confirms your theory (the fact that you're bringing it to him as he talks about clinginess)

so instead of knocking, you go to your shared room and eat what you made for him. sitting in bed, eating as you watch something on tv/ laptop/ phone

you'd avoid him for the rest of the day - making yourself useful elsewhere. if he was in one room, you were in another. he'd be in and out his office, trying to get work done, so wouldn't really notice (eek)

you'd go to bed way earlier than usual to avoid seeing him, wanting to be asleep before he joins

he'd come to bed, see you 'asleep' (you couldn't fall asleep) he'd apologise to your sleeping self for not being with you today, then would fall asleep, maybe spooning you 

over the next couple days you'd distance yourself from him - won't join him on the sofa, won't wear his clothes, won't be up awake the same time as him (you go to bed earlier and wake up earlier to avoid tan) won't ask him things, won't initiate any hugs or kisses

he'd notice the change in you and pull you aside one day, saying something like, "what's going on with you? been really weird lately," you'd shrug him off, saying it's nothing, maybe you try to walk away and he holds your arm, stopping you, "you've been distant, what's going on with you? everything okay?" you'd meet his concerned face, your stoic one softening. maybe you say, "I thought I was too clingy,"

he'd be confused, "clingy? what you on about?" and you're like, "I overheard you the other day," he'd still be confused, so you'd explain more, saying how you heard him on the phone when you were bringing food. eventually, he'd catch on and explain how it was A HUGE misunderstanding. saying how lem was asking tan to look after his cat, hence why tan said she's clingy - talking about the cat

after you'd be very embarrassed, apologising profusely, saying how you feel foolish and dumb for thinking that. he won't be mad at you for assuming. he'd feel sad for you, how you kept it to yourself and changed the way you acted. would also feel bad for not saying something sooner, and you wallowing in the feeling on your own

he'd be very reassuring!! telling you he loves the way you love and treat him. how sweet and caring you are to him. telling you he loves you as is and doesn't want you changing to fit/ suit/ accustom his moods 

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

no taglist as don’t wanna spam you guys

[3liza]

after my post yesterday about not sharing viral videos of "dancing dogs" because they're just videos of animals dying slowly of agonizing neurological disease I tried typing "canine distemper" into tumblr search and discovered another one of those weird little heatsinks of tumblr spam. 99% of the posts in the tag/search category (the latter actually, the tag itself doesn't seem to work/is blocked) were spam, mostly 0-note chatGPT rambling with unclear goals either for SEO or for sales. a lot of Indian spam in particular is on Tumblr, as well as either fake or real veterinary clinics posting filler articles about pet topics. none of this stuff gets any engagement and most of it seems to be referral dead ends, eg, it doesn't have any links out that are being clicked by either humans or crawlers, but I find it everywhere.

porn spam is very straightforward by comparison, porn bots are trying to farm leads in the form of live men who reply to them and can be added to databases of live leads, or they want conversions into account signups or sales off-site. sometimes actual adult content creators are doing their own marketing here and again the goals of their advertising is normal, and other times porn ads are malware or social account hijacking bait etc. but the generic marketing slop spam that comes up for terms like "canine distemper" is a little more puzzling.

I think some of these blogs are probably being used inside web templates off Tumblr to just host content elsewhere on the web, but as far as I'm aware thats not really a standard website building technique, most people just use a blog template or WordPress or something. if you go on the Black Hat World forum you'll find plenty of buying and selling of established accounts in good standing on various socials, either through hacked accounts or accounts that have been deliberately created and then farmed over months or years to look as real as possible, but Tumblr accounts aren't really in demand as far as I'm aware

I don't think it's particularly interesting and definitely not sinister, it's likely a case of lost automated processes or some sort of testing of marketing generators that's just using Tumblr as the planting bed.

[slay00ryu]

The Words of a Snake.

☪︎ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･❂ Trigger warnings!

This story contains spoilers for Killer Chat

Angst

Heartbreak

You have been warned. Now only pain awaits.

☪︎ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･❂

You were a regular news reporter, interview with stars, gossip, murder, anything worth writing. But this was never your dream, you wanted to be a writer, a real writer. Novels about serial killers were your cup of tea, but there was one problem.

Your protagonists were shallow. Nothing new, just the most stereotypical murderer with a sad backstory. You absolutely hated how you shaped your story, you needed to see how the real deal looks like.

So you turned to the dark web, searching for answer in a place that could end you, and it did.

You joined a server full of serial killer, a safe haven if you will.

The owner, who turned to be The Butcher caught your attention, his flirtatious texts, the provocative comments and his artistry. It all filled you with inspiration that you have never felt before, you didn't even know when you filled almost one hundred pages with your writing after a single month spent with in the murderous chatting space.

You were aware that your life was at risk, one wrong message, someone finding too much about you, and you were gone. Dead. Oh, but how could it win against romance? The way your heartbeat fastened whenever you heard Ronin's voice or saw his face. It all felt so surreal. You weren't even sure how or when your mind started to picture the two of you as the characters in your book, maybe it was how much the protagonist felt like Ronin?

Well, besides Ronin there was one person person who kept themselves in your life.

V.

The self proclaimed Vigilante, Ronin's biggest enemy and a man who used every occasion he could to warn you about the other killer.

<@K9>

He will betray you. He's not a good person, he will only bring pain.

You never listened, you were too lost in these feelings you developed. You wanted to feel The Butcher's lips on yours, while you were dancing devilishly on top dead bodies, corpses of people who died from your hands. But only in your imagination, you aren't crazy enough to murder anyone, right?

You felt like the love you felt was also felt by the other side. His smiles, blushes, gazed. It all screamed 'love', you were confident in yourself and your feelings. You were sure of your abilities to romance a killer.

Maybe you should've tried harder, you poor, naive Y/N.

It all happened on the day before Valentines, you were in the middle of writing your book when you received a ping from the server, curious you decided to check out what was going on.

What you saw was like a nightmare, Ronin's new bots spamming a link, a link to a page filled with your information...

Ronin revealed who you were.

You were about to close the server, trying to ignore all the threats you were receiving in your private massages. Text full of disappointment, feelings of betrayal and promises of ending your llfe.

And amongst them all was the Devil, relishing in his victory.

<@goreboy>

8 killers Are after you Baby but i Shall be the One to take your last Breath you Have 40 minutes call The cops if You want to Live

There was no remorse for his action. Just a simple information, your life would end in forty minutes. Yes, you could call the police, but why would you?

The killers were your friends, your new family. You felt like you belonged somewhere, like you had a place to come back to. But now, not only did you lose all of your friends. The love you felt was unrequited, it was completely one sided, crushed by a man who just ruined your life with one link.

You wanted to scream, to cry, to fight. But you could only stare at the screen blankly. You wiped the singular tear from your cheek, and devoted your last moments to giving your story an ending. Ending fitting for a love story like this one.

While your fingers created new words, your mind was elsewhere, seeking any signs, anything that could tell you that Ronin really never loved you, that he only manipulated you. The realisation was painful, you were unable to accept this.

A liar. That what he was.

A snake poisoning you with his venom, creating a fake world in your mind, a place full of safety and desire, just to crush it all once and for all.

And the worst part in all of this? You still felt your heartbeat pace up with every passing minute. You wanted to see him, even if his intentions were clear. He would leave only your corpse behind, a pool of blood and splattered guts. A sigh truly gruesome.

Would anyone even recognise you? Would anyone miss you? Your only friends were now your enemies.

There was no time for those thoughts. The clock rang 3 AM, the witching hour of the Butcher.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

And the Devil himself, knocking on your doors like he was just a guest you have invited. You were frozen in place, staring out your window. The door creaked open, you didn't lock them after all. You expected him to come and decided to welcome him like a lover you were about to bid farewell to forever, well you're not wrong. This would be your last goodbye, you last gaze at his face.

"Well, well. No police? You're much dumber than I thought you would be darling." Ronin was directly behind you, he reeked of blood, the smell of iron reached your nostrils like aphrodisiac.

You turned to look at him. A crowbar in one hand, cocky grin glued to his face and a look of complete victory in his eyes. He was amused. You were amusing to him.

"I won't pack everyone to jail with you Ronin, I love these people way too much." You said, your hands were trembling under his gaze, a gaze of someone who knew how much control he held over you.

"My, how gracious of you." He scoffed, he was making fun of you. "You will die here, and the only think you care about are your friends. You're so gullible my dear, I almost feel sorry for you." He snickered. His eyes were empty, no love, nothing. Just the abyss gazing at you.

"I can't believe this..." You whispered, your hurt aching in pain. "V was right." You shook your head in disbelief.

"You are a cruel man, only made to bring pain." Your voice broke. "And somehow, I fell for you." You clenched your hands in fists. "Fine! Kill me, tear me to shreds, you already took everything from me."

"These are your last words? Oh, how adorable." He lifted your chin with his crowbar. "Maybe in another world I could love you."

And with that there was only pain. Pain from a knife stuck into your heart, like the last sign of Ronin's lack of feelings.

Like his way of physically breaking your heart.

Ronin watched you. He was the only witness to your last moments. To this disgraceful death. You looked absolutely pathetic, dying in pain with tears in your eyes and his name on your lips.

You were like Icarus, you flew to close to the Sun and burned.

[theyanderespecialist]

Mouthwashing Yanderes: Various Yandere Mouthwash Headcanons/Scenario (RULES AND REQUESTS OPEN!!!)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins here are the rules! Follow them!  FOR TUMBLR USERS!!! PUT REQUESTS IN MY ASK BOX PLEASE!!! 1: No Characters/My or My Co-Author OCs/Readers under the age of 18 (Yanderes are NOT Made for kids)  2: No NSFW Scenes on Wattpad (Them the rules) Will be posted elsewhere (Cannot say where cause TOS) 

3: Any sexuality for the Reader/In-Game Characters is okay! Such as: 

Gay Curly 

Lesbian Anya 

Bisexual Jimmy  Asexual Reader  Poly Reader  etc anything is good (EXCEPT FOR ANIMAL FRICKERS AND CHILD DIDDLERS YOU CAN FRICK OFF)  

4: Any Gender is fine for The Reader/In Game Characters is okay! Such As:  Trans Man (AFAB/MTF) Curly  Intersex Daisuke 

Female Jimmy (Genderbent)  Male Anya (Also Genderbent)  Genderfluid Reader  Cis Reader  Non-Binary Reader  ETC pretty much anything is good (DO NOT MAKE A MOCKERY OUR OF ANY GENDER!) 

5: Almost any Ship is allowed (AS LONG AS YOU ARE NOT ILLEGAL OR GROSS ABOUT IT AND YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! YOU DIRTY, FLAKY, BISCUITS!) Such as: 

Yandere Jimmy X Darling Curly 

Yandere Jimmy X Darling Reader X Yandere Curly  Yandere Crew (All five) X Darling Reader 

Yandere Crew (Four) X Darling Anya  and so on.  6: No racist, homophobic, transphobic, or any bigoty poo 

7: NO SPAM 

8: If I say no to an idea that is that! Respect it or leave! 

9: You can do anything special to the reader or characters like:  Chubby Reader  Pregnant Curly  Omega Anya  Soulmate Reader  Blind Reader  Stalker Jimmy  Etc (Anything that makes your stuff stand out yes, yes, yes TELL ME SO I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT!) 

10: I will Do Alternate Universes as well such as:  Alpha/Beta/Omega Soulmate Universe  Mars Settlers AU  College/University 

Pre-Game Canon and SO MUCH MORE!!! 

Please be specific on what you want which means remember to add the characters/readers: Gender, Sexuality, anything Special/Specific, and if It is an AU and SO ON! Be specific, please!

---Ones Not On Wattpad Version---

12: Robot/Alien/Monster Fucking/Relationships Is Allowed Such As:

Turning a character into a cyborg or robot version

Having crossovers with other aliens like a Xenomorph From The Alien movies or Predator

And Monster fricking with turning a character into a fantasy or supernatural monster (Mostly with fantasy au) or tentacle Porn/Porn with Plot!

(THEY HAVE TO BE SAPIENT THOUGH!)

13: (Not On Tumblr for this one either)

14: Will do Non-Con/Dub-Con (Not Always one shots but you get the idea) things like forced pregnancy, kidnapping, drugging, consensual non-consent, Ect!

15: Almost anything is allowed so don't be afraid to ask (Unless it is kiddie stuff or animal fricking then you can go to hell!)

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[reorientation]

zyn anon. sorry to spam your dms, i just have some updates i can't really share elsewhere lmao. only one of my irls know im fucking this boy but she doesn't know it was for nicotine pouches lmao

im not even "exchanging" my "services" for zyns anymore. i didn't like them at all, but id still occasionally ask for a tin or two here and there. to not let it get to his head ☺️. a month and a half later im just doing it for free 😒 he makes jokes now that im not even fucking him for product. and jokes that he got me addicted to him instead. so you were right about me becoming a budding addict for a straight mans cock.

we never had a convo about us being official, but he made it clear early on that he wants to be the only guy fucking me rn. i asked if he sleeps around with other girls, and he said he doesnt need to when im so eager for him. :/. he calls me his girlfriend in front of his roommate and gamer friends, too. but not to people we know mutually.

he's also a lot more affectionate now. we've been on an actual date, it was surprisingly romantic and really sweet, and not just me blowing him in his car. though I did after but that's not the point.

i pretty much dress exclusively femininely outside of our programs unisex uniform, i used run errands in boymode but im not even doing that anymore. i have a chosen name that can be shortened into something kinda feminine sounding so he just calls me that. even in front of classmates who dont know i have a pussy, and one that hes been inside of. and the "nickname" is catching on with our classmates too lol.

z anon. forgot to include the update. sorry, i ramble a lot.

i skipped my last two T shots ☺️ im still waiting on my iud appointment in a few weeks. unfortunately this also means i havent really been letting him inside me as often, since im still really scared of pregnancy especially this early on in this weird situation. i am blowing him a lot though lol. it's a win win for me since being on my knees for him with his cock down my throat is so damn hot, especially when he's kinda fucking my face and pulls my hair during it. but fuck its probably been at least a week since his cocks been in me and i miss it. a lot lol. hes so manly and strong, i miss how feminine i feel when im under him. his body would just inadvertently pin me in place, im painfully aware of how small and feminine i am in comparison to him. how truly heterosexual it all is.

but i cannot trust myself bro like i know even if i insist on him using a condom ill end up asking for him to take it off. if he doesnt outright refuse. and like it's so difficult because that turns me on more. i know ill end up having his dick in me sometime before I get my iud, i just gotta be responsible and power through the demons.

im still dysphoric through this situation, especially since stopping T and the fear of like. the few times hes cum in me before havimg a little more serious consequences. despite taking plan b after each time. but the horny part of my brain has never been happier. whenever i feel like backing out, i send him nudes or text him smth risky just for extra self encouragement. but he's on a camping vacation thing rn with his family, and the service is shit and i miss him 🥺 even outside of sex.

like I want to become his girlfriend, truly. and that would have me become a girl for him. which basically means becoming a girl fulltime. i guess that would actually just be going back to being a girl. all for a straight boy 🤦🏻

its hugely dysphoric but kinda nice, like a part of me hates how he's so much bigger and way more masculine than me without any effort, even outside of us having heterosexual sex. i get so dysphoric that he's taller, bigger, way stronger and just so clearly male. but apparently, i enjoy being a girl for him more than i hate it.

(Previously)

You know, Anon, this is awfully romantic.

I mean, listen to yourself. You got into this as a whore, offering to suck his dick for discounted nicotine pouches, but now you're pining over him, and wanting to be a proper girl so that you can be his girlfriend. You're definitely still a whore, but you're a whore with a heart of gold.

Not a smart whore, though. So scared of pregnancy, but you stopped your T before getting on real birth control, knowing that you can't stop yourself from begging for his bare cock. You're so desperate to be a good girl for him that you're consciously ramping up the risk of having his baby, just so that you can return to full femininity a little sooner.

You know, I got this anon after your last ask:

They're not quite right, in that this first update doesn't include a pregnancy announcement. But it's been a bit since you sent me this, and reading what you sent me, it's not hard to imagine you having already gotten started on the path to being a cute little baby mama to your straight boyfriend.

But even if you haven't... You're never going to be able to forget what this was like, will you? Losing your virginity to a straight man, and so easily losing your identity with it. Being pinned down by him with your legs spread and his bare cock in your pussy. The simple force of a man on top of you, and how simple it was to slip back into womanhood and welcome him in.