#happiness x clean

[chloe-or-sam-or-sophia-or-marcus]

✴ ✴

✴

But now my eyes leak acid rain ✴

On the pillow where you used to lay your head

After giving you the best I had ✴

Tell me what to give after that

➛ The water filled my lungs, I screamed so loud

But no one heard a t h i n g ✴

✴ ✴

✴

[choccy-milky]

🩶🩶

[kuzakat]

Fighting ...?

[yallemagne]

"Imagine it, Morph: Once you are perfect... I may not even need Jean Grey."

[littleplantfreak]

Netflix and chillin’…and killin’

A Ghostface!Umemiya x Reader NSFW fic for our Toyko Station Server Collab!! hosted by lovlies @hayatoseyepatch and @rindous-starlight

Content warnings: Dark Content, Murder, Stalking, Yandere!Ume, P in V Sex, Dumbification, Dubcon/Noncon depending on how you take it?) Descriptions of Violence, Overstimulation, Slight Corruption, probably OOC, a brief mention of abuse, uhhh read at your own risk ig. Srry if I forgot one. Anything you’d THINK is ghostface-esque is here so //vague hand gestures

Summary: Your boyfriend is such a green flag you overlook all the red ones hidden behind it. Once you find out his secret at an inopportune time, it doesn’t really end well.

word count: 3200ish

You’re taught not to play with your food. You’re also taught not to put a knife in someone’s throat, so really thinking about it…he’s already broken so many rules it shouldn’t matter if he breaks a few more.

He’s got self-restraint, to a point obviously. It took a whole week of stalking to get this guy’s patterns down to a ‘T’ after all, and then another two days to pick the right time both alibi-wise and just convenience really. Where and when the best time to strike is, just how much line on the rope he should let this guy dangle by. How far he can run...the heartbeat in his chest should be pounding just as hard as his feet hitting the floor or it's no fun. The sound of Umemiya's knife wet and popping, straining against chest cartilage and muscle. He loves to play with his food, he decides, and when it comes to you-

“You’re playing with your food again, Haji.”  You smile behind your hand due to your own food in your mouth, looking at him with nothing short of unbridled affection. Giving a little poke into his rice, you steal some for yourself. You’ve never once yelled at him for playing with his food; you actually think he’s cute when he does it. He’s cutest, though, when he’s dazed and thinking about something that’s got his cheeks heating up in a field of rosy red. Sometimes he tells you it's because he's thinking about you, and other times he'll say it's a secret as he throws a wink your way.

“Sorry, I was out of it again, huh?” He asks before holding his own spoon up to your mouth as an apology for losing himself in his own head. He watches you now, carving your face into his memory like he does every time he gets a little emotional at the way you’ve made feelings burn through his chest. You eat from his spoon, thankfully, an even happier smile on your cheeks, stuffed like a chipmunk with food. Cute enough to eat, he thinks.

The restaurant was empty save for you two and an older couple at the bar. Your eyes catch the newspaper the man is reading, and you can’t stop the grimace from twisting your features. If Umemiya followed your line of sight, he knows it would take him to the headline about yesterday’s murder and the killing spree that has been taking place in town. There’s a question on your tongue that you hold, thinking the answer to “Where were you last night?” will be the same as ever.

 'At home, of course!' he'd chirp. Hiragi, his roommate, made something homemade that Hajime brought to you just this morning, saying they made too much once again. So instead, you chew your lip before looking back to see him finishing the last of the food, that flushed look on his face again while his thoughts go elsewhere.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The call comes from a local number. Although it’s stupid to answer when you’re not sure of the caller, your name and number are up on the town bulletin board to tutor any local kids in need of a little extra help. Hajime put you up to it, knowing you need something to take your mind off the most recent deaths plaguing your thoughts. When you answer it, for a moment you’re left with dead air.

“Hello?” Your voice cuts through, ready to hang up. 

“Hey pretty girl,” a voice answers as if muffled by something. You’re not entertained by this. If some kids want to prank you, this is not the way to do it.

“If you’re gonna be a creep then-”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

“What?”

“Your favorite scary movie. Everyone has one.”

“I don’t like scary movies.”

“Living in one good enough for you?” the voice teases.

“What does that mean?” 

“Means you should check on that friend of yours who was stubborn enough to try and get in the way. Ah…did you know your back door is unlocked?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, slowly turning your head to see a white mask flash past your window before you give chase, grabbing the bat you keep near your front door. By the time you make it outside though, he’s long gone.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This time playing with his food was a means to an end for Ume. Less choice and more necessity from the way you sometimes looked at him like he might be suspect. Like the blood under his nails isn’t just from a fight or a stray nosebleed, and like you may just bite off a little more than you can chew. Playing with his food just isn’t as fun as it used to be now that he really likes you, but the call was necessary. 

He makes sure to show up right when you call him, telling you he’d been helping Kotoha with closing up the cafe. He had definitely done that, only breaking for a few minutes to climb out of the bathroom window, do the job, and tell you to check on Sakura since he was stupid enough to try and save the most recent victim. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He might be waiting for you to figure it out. That cute little brain of yours is so smart, putting together clues, and chasing his alter ego before coming to a halt at the brick wall he's placed perfectly in your way to drive you up it. It’s fun to goad and mess with you, knowing you trust him a little too much for your own good.

His bandaged hand that Sakura had stabbed him in earlier this week would’ve been overly suspicious to you had he not been your boyfriend. When you remarked about how you’d just have to find whoever it was by looking at every hand in Makochi, all the while tracing his own where skin and bandage met, he thinks he sees something like brief unease cross your face before it smooths over into comfort from your current position once again.

You’re on his lap on the couch after all, one arm on your waist, and his good hand wrapped around your thigh as one of your favorite movies is playing. He would’ve preferred to put on a scary one so he could see a little bit of fear on the face he came to love so much. Picturing your hands squeezing at his arm looking for comfort as you cuddled close was tempting, but your nerves were already frayed enough by the murders plaguing your mind that he thought against it. Plenty of time and opportunities to see it.

When he starts palming the inside of your thigh, your back is practically melting into him. He relishes the little content sighs slipping out along with a small hum or two when he gently pinches the meat of your leg, noting how your opposite foot’s toes curl. He wonders if a little pain is the way to go with you.

Looking back on all the times you’ve gotten a little louder when he’s gripped your hips hard enough to bruise or when you moaned around him as he tugged firmly on your hair in his hands, the vibrations in your throat while his length is buried deep past your lips nearly made him keel over. He's almost certain you like it rough, actually.

Thoughts of you are a near constant to him, when he isn’t trying to get rid of the trash in town. Meanwhile, your own head is whirling, almost too distracted by his hands to follow the train of thought you were originally on.

You’ve been stopping and starting those thoughts again, the ones that get you in trouble causing the hair on your neck to stand up when you think about your boyfriend sometimes. When you get too close to the truth, he’s been opting for fucking those thoughts out of you. It only takes a second to see how the gears turn behind your eyes.

He wonders briefly if he can condition you into getting wet whenever you talk about ghostface with him. If he can have your thighs rubbing and chafing together while you’re trying to hide as he chases you...he snaps himself out of the daydream when you ask something, him not hearing a word of it, but he hums in response nonetheless.

For once, you’re a little irked at that, having been worried for Sakura’s safety the entire week. Although he was only knocked out, the man he was trying to protect was gutted! The sharp tone of his name that comes out of your mouth shocks you both, causing a brief period of silence to shift between you.

"Hajime! Are you listening?"

That's it; his breaking point shatters at the twist in his stomach when he hears you, not unlike a knife. Where did you go in the few minutes he was relishing in the feel of your body on his? He could’ve sworn you were behaving a second ago. The guy he killed was an asshole who hit his wife, the lovely woman who ran the bakery down the street. She’s much better off without him right? He even killed him in a way they’d never accuse her of, even if someone talked and told the police there was marital strife, as they always call it. They hadn't done a thing so far, so what's the problem? She was at her daughter’s house for the whole weekend when he died, and although she’s heartbroken now, Hajime’s sure she’ll perk right up in no time with enough support from everyone!

“Baby. Sweetheart. What you need to do now is relax,” he stresses, palming the front of your pajama shorts, massaging you until your head falls back onto his shoulder. That is not what you need to do, but you can't seem to bring yourself to move and stop him.

“Can my pretty girl take me now, or should I prep you some more?” He asks face fully showing his sick enjoyment over you being nearly ready to gush even after going on and on about his exploits, not that you can see the expression as you are now. The nickname has you stiffening for more reasons than one. The warmth from it flows straight down into your stomach where an inferno’s already been torching your brain into a haze, but a small nag in the back of your mind thinks the lilt in his voice is reminiscent of another you’ve heard recently on the phone with a stranger who called, asking what your favorite scary movie was.

 Before you can chase that thought further, you’re flipped on your stomach, face smushing into the couch as he apologizes for the roughness, though he thinks to himself that he’s not really sorry at all.

A small pluck of his fingers in your waistband, and he drags the fabric down until it reaches your ankles. You don't even register that he hasn't taken them off completely while he thumbs your ass cheek with one hand and the other goes to your lips, scissoring his fingers inside briefly before letting out a groan. You’re so wet for him already; must’ve been ready for a while you poor neglected thing. It makes him happy to feel how good he can make you despite all your pouting about killers.

He gives a quick push halfway in to let you feel the slight stretch of his cock as he watches himself slide into you.

“You’re always so good for me like this,” he sighs. Pulling out, he circles your hole with the tip, teasing you so he can watch the way your hips wiggle just a bit from neediness. Once he hears you whimper at him to please move, the sounding gunshot at the starting line, he’s fully sheathing himself inside, watching your arms go to wrap around the couch cushion as you muffle a cry. 

He takes it slow, with deep thrusts that have you moving against the fabric of the couch before realizing you’re jostling the side he shoved his mask and gloves into at the last minute when you let yourself into his apartment without texting him earlier. He can tell you’re only halfway to being dumb right now, and decides to pick up the pace, wrapping his hand around to toy with your throbbing clit. 

Just as he thinks he’s in the clear, he hears a small thud of his mask hitting the floor and he groans out loud. Of all times, just when your walls are starting to flutter so nice and tight. When you drag your heavy head up to see what fell, your eyes go wide, and he feels you clench on him. In fear, maybe, though he’s not quite sure. With all his ministrations during your talking sessions about the murders, he might've been a little successful at conditioning your body.

“Hajime, what is that-“ your panicked tone has him cursing.

Before you can think to say another word and ruin the nice pace he's been building up to, he pushes in far enough that he knows he’s flush against your cervix, but the high of getting caught and being inside you has fireworks bursting behind his eyes and in his brain. The adrenaline has him pumping into you at a depth and speed you're not used to, squealing into the cushion as slaps ring out in the room. 

“Guess you- hah - found out now huh? Can’t let you go now that you know...just wouldn’t work out, not that anyone would believe you,” he pants and knows there’ll be no response, not when he’s playing your body like a harp making sure to hit and touch all the places he knows you go stir crazy for. 

God, you wish you could focus, but the only thing you can really do is take what he’s giving you as the couch shudders and his one foot is posted on the floor for stability. You try to sound out a no to stop him, your hand going back to still him, but he grabs that arm and holds it behind you in a gentle death grip. It’s turned your body enough that the new angle exposes your face from the cushion, leaving all of your sounds to bleed out of your mouth and fill his ears with music.

Even when you finally hit your high, he doesn't stop fucking you through it despite you crying that it's enough. He stops for a second, and you almost think he’s being merciful before he maneuvers your limp body up back onto his lap, never letting himself slip out.

“Think I wanna try something new, baby,” he pants, smiling into your shoulder as you struggle against him. Those big, strong arms you loved so much are now a vice keeping you in place. He somehow managed to grab the mask before picking you up, and that’s when everything goes dark. Or at least for a moment, it does. The mask has been tugged on over your head, your heavy breathing making the inside feel wet and sticky. His voice is muffled, but you can still hear the words.

“Cum with that mask on so I can think of you every time my knife goes through someone’s chest sweetheart,” he growls and punctuates your pet name with another deep thrust before you can feel him spill into you as he continues stuffing it up into your womb. Your nails digging in his thighs only make him more riled up.

His hands are on your hips, lifting you on him only to slam you back down, and he knows this position would be driving you crazy even if it hadn't already been for the overstimulation. He wonders briefly just how long it’ll take to break you into accepting him before realizing it doesn’t matter. However long it takes, he’ll keep screwing you until you’re docile; he can’t lose you after all. It’d simply kill him.

 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Hiragi’s livid to say the least. He’s yelling into the phone asking Ume how he could be stupid enough to get caught like that. Umemiya left you to yourself, cleaned and bundled in a blanket after rounds and rounds of sex had thoroughly turned your brain to mush on the carpet. The tears hadn't even dried on your cheeks yet from when he’d finished with you despite having kissed and licked them off with gusto earlier. At least you were sleeping now, cutely curled up in his bed wearing one of his shirts.

Or you were when he left you a few minutes ago, but the glint of his knife in his peripheral has him catching your hand before you can slice his neck, exhaustion clear on your face despite the fear and upset in your eyes too. He’s half hard again seeing your grip on the handle. Not a slasher yet, but he can tell you’ve got potential if he can push you in the right direction. He thinks he might have a chance at turning your noble little heart into something a little more twisted, a perfect match to his own. It’s all for the good of the town in the end, hopefully you can see that.

“Gonna have to call you back, Ragi. My girl’s feeling a little extra clingy right now.” He hangs up before Hiragi starts yelling again, deciding to deal with the problem in front of him before continuing his scolding.

“You’re holding it too tight, sweetness. You need to loosen your grip a bit,” he says, squeezing your wrist. Your gaze is settled on the carpet now, barely able to focus on the scratchiness of it on the soles of your feet. How you got here and what you were even supposed to do now are unclear. Killing Umemiya would stop the murders maybe, but given how Hiragi was on the line, he’s in on it. Two against one never really boded well, and even if you didn’t take that into account, did you even have the guts to go through with your original strike? Or did you know deep down he’d catch your hand and stop you?

Your head shoots up, nearly giving you whiplash when he places the knife’s point at his heart, and when you look at his face you see the boy you fell head over heels for, soft eyes looking at you with nothing but love and affection. The point digs in a bit, more due to his pressure on your wrist than your own, and you bite back a cry seeing blood well around the metal. He’s waiting for you to decide, and when the knife drops to the floor, he wraps you up in his arms, placing wet kisses on your face.

“Everything’s gonna be okay...we'll figure this out. It’s for your own good baby, I promise,” he coos before lifting you up and carrying you to bed. To his delight and your dread, he has you so tightly wound around his fingers, and you both know he won't be loosening the strings any time soon. He simply loves you too much.

When the town’s most famous couple goes missing, everyone mournfully assumes it’s the last nail in the coffin being buried as the serial killer wreaking havoc disappears leaving nothing but a trail of blood into the woods. 

 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

dividers from here and here

[yeonjune]

Yeonjun throwing first pitch at "A Clean Sweep"

[myfamilycrestisthedemonofdeath]

I know for a fact that the 141 men CANNOT handle a hot shower, the kind that you like to take. The one that is borderline painful because of how hot it is.... but it feels so nice and soothing, especially if you have aches and pains all over.

These grown men are military; too used to brisk, cool (heck, maybe even cold) showers that last 5 minutes at most. No shower thoughts to dwell on except to get it done quickly to get started on their day.

So I can totally see that when they try to join you enjoying your shower for the first time, they are in for a surprise.

Johnny definitely yelps. He tries to slide in behind you and hold you, but the minute his arms are under the sprayer, he's jumping, almost making the both of you slip. He probably mutters some garbled whines of "how the fuck you are under that spray, bonnie, it's too fucking hot the skin off me arms is burnt tae crisp, christ there might be a demon doon here, this is hell" and then he quickly backtracks and apologizes, "you are not a demon, just a lovely angel who enjoys water hotter than the sun's ass". He'll probably beg to have the water down a little cooler before rejoining you under the spray.

Kyle asks first to join you while you are already showering, and you can see his hesitance as he steps behind you, his eyes warily looking at the too steamed up mirror and wincing as the water splashes off you and onto him. "Jesus, this feels like a bloody geyser, worse than the goddamn desert heat", he grumbles, but after a while, maybe with your encouragement, he starts to not dislike it. "This why you always are hot, yeah?", he probably teases you with his grin, and while he takes a while longer before he fully joins you under the spray, he's enjoying how the surrounding heat is soothing him and how it's making you so soft and pliable.

"Bears cannot handle hot environment", is what you say when Price joins you. "I'm no bloody bear", he will say, but you definitely see him wincing while getting close to you from behind. This stubborn man is covered head to toe in hair, and while the situation for him is definitely uncomfortable, he will tough it out so long as he gets to be in control of how you clean your body. This hairy man has a fine body underneath all the curls drenched in hot water, and I'd be damned if you don't end up having a delightful time as he cleans the both of you.

Poor Simon will join, and I firmly believe you will have to either kick him out or really lower the temperature of the shower. He won't say much when he slides in, but when you finally glance back, this hulking wall of man is definitely lobster red and grumpy. For a stoic person, his body sure does a lot of the talking for him, especially when it is laid bare in front of you, and all you can read off him is that he will stay with you for your entire shower.

Lemme rephrase my point, they cannot handle a hot shower unless YOU are in it.

[jellynotbees]

Wanted to draw something cute, I really love the concept of Lamb and Narinder forming a friendship (and the beginnings of more) while he is still chained. Also, just know he is keeping very still and has a hand at the ready in case they fall.

Edit: finished version here

[wandasarchive]

did you guys see these photos of my fiancée and soon to be wife, wanda, getting ready for our wedding 🤭

[haenxn]

♱ ㅤ(◜ᯅ◝)𖹭 ♱ ♡⃟(·ㆆࡇㆆ)?(·ㆆࡇㆆ)?～ ～ .❤︎𔓐᧔᧓ㅤㅤ➴ㅤ❤︎❤︎ㅤㅤ 𒂭ㅤ ➴ㅤ𖹭ㅤ @khroem

[efernity]

they possessed me. i pray they do it again

[tokumusume]

If there's a good person who does not repent and a bad person who often repents, who's more likely to enter heaven? I think God will love the latter more. There must be sin for God to have meaning. Beings without sin cannot know God, since they don't need to know.

[pmpwbrrs]

TBOI but Isaac is a rain world fan

You know, I never think about SRS. But now? After I drew them as a pathetic fucking wet soggy mew mew? And their slug as a stupid worm maggot? I get it now

that's NOT all . wait for more :)

[f-loqweres]

‎ \\(″ロ゛) * I Can't Stop The Tears If I Want To... ❤︎

[gbirrd]

happy boyfriend day! here's a rough timbart WIP to celebrate. the boyfriends ever <3

[skellabelle]

Hermann does not appreciate Newt’s repeated attempts to get himself killed

Newt is just enjoying the attention