#love kae

[zorosdimples]

mdni - a messy zoro thirst that is a continuation of this thought (zoro has an oral fixation) <3 reader has breasts and a vagina.

maybe it’s because he always has a sword in that smart ass mouth of his. maybe it’s because he can’t simply sit still—he needs to keep some part of his body moving. maybe it’s because he spent well over two decades of his life without physical affection.

whatever it is, when you’re alone with zoro, he’s bound to get his mouth on you one way or another.

“stop bein’ difficult,” zoro huffs as he hovers over you, the faintest lilt of amusement lacing his tone. a hulking hand crosshatched with scars encircles both of your wrists, pinning them above you to rest on the wooden floor.

the swordsman is so strong that jerking your arms with all your might doesn’t move his steel grip an inch. he licks his lips and they split into a devious grin, cheeks dimpling.

“zoroooo. m’tired,” you whine, resorting to an emotional plea.

“why’d you join me for night watch then, hm?” he taunts. the hand that isn’t restraining yours rests firmly on your belly.

“wanted to spend time with you.” your sweet admission makes his heart flutter, but he refuses to give you any latitude.

“and you are, baby,” he says smugly. his free hand dances down to the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath, rough fingertips grazing against your flesh to rest atop the waistband of your shorts.

the airy sigh you breathe lets him know that he has won, but his hand doesn’t move any further, his lone eye searching yours for approval. he tsks as you hold his gaze in defiance. he shifts to bring a large knee up to rest snugly between your soft thighs and chuckles when you stifle a moan.

“c’mon,” he entreats, resting his forehead hotly against yours. “let me have a treat since i’ve gotta stay up all night.”

“fine,” you whisper, too tired and riled up to hold him off any longer, no bite to your voice.

the word has barely left your lips before he pulls down your shorts and underwear and presses your knees to your chest. zoro brings his face down to your sticky cunt, hot breath and intense stare sending a shiver through your body. his eye flickers up to yours and doesn’t waver as he lets a glistening string of spit drip from between his chapped lips onto your swollen clit. he dips down to smear the spit with a chaste kiss.

“jus’ enjoy,” he rasps before utterly devouring you until you’re a whimpering, overstimulated mess. after that he’ll nip at and suckle on your tits until he’s ready to go back down and suck on your clit until you cry.

you just have to take it.

[biohazzard]

Roland robloxus

[autistic-ranpo]

doodles from math class!!

[aimedis]

darlin' getting attacked by quinn while they're taking a late night stroll. he escaped his department cell somehow. they take him down but they're fatally wounded. blood everywhere, bones broken and fractured in every place imaginable and more. it's so bad that when the pack gets there and finds them laying in the grass, asher literally throws up. marie is on her way but sam and david are trying to help. it would never have been enough. david, sam, milo, and asher are just sitting over them, begging them to keep their eyes open.

"i took him down, sammy. all by myself..." they whisper, eyes focusing and unfocusing as they try to remain conscious.

"hell yeah you did, darlin'. tore his head clean off," sam responds, equally as quiet, "you did so damn good."

marie shows up then. and sam would never get the sound of his darlin's screams and cries while marie was healing them out of his head. or how they went deathly still when she was done.

they js fell asleep from the magic, it's okay i wouldn't kill them off (or would i?)

(bonus !!)

imagine darlin' waking up days later, still looping on all the healing magic in their system and they're just being sappy and giggly with sam. picture those "partner under anaesthesia" videos.

[carefulfears]

rewatching early txf and seeing mulder and scully when they are so young and so enamored with each other is so heavy…they are so excited to have met each other and they are going to go through so much together…they are going to lose their entire families together. they are going to lose time and autonomy and health together. they are going to live together and die together and nearly die together and never die together. they are going to have and lose a child together, and see that loss in each other for the rest of their lives. they are going to look to each other anyway, for everything, and say things like “i’m always happy to see you” and “always happy to find a reason” even at their most distant and estranged. she doesn’t know it then, but running out into the rain after him in bellefleur will be the end of the life that she imagined for herself. she doesn’t know it then, but it will lead to the loss of her safety and her family and her career and her children. and when she does know all of those things, she says “i would do it all over again.” she says “i wouldn’t change a day.” she says “i don’t begrudge you any of those things.” she says “i want to remember how it all was.” and if she could do it all over again, she would still chase him into the rain and laugh when he said that aliens were summoning the kids to the forest and ask him where they were going next and follow to wherever the answer was. because they would rather do this life together than do any other apart.

[seventeenlovesthree]

Going thoroughly insane over how on completely different ends Sora's and Koushirou's roles and relationships with their mothers (and in extension their parents in general) are portrayed in Adventure. And once again, it was ALL based on miscommunication:

Sora is perceived as the tradition-defying "tomboy" who is "loud" and plays football; Koushirou is perceived as the "good boy" who is always "polite and correct" and never acts spoilt or out of line. The key word here is "perceived", because we see both of them display traits in front of their peers that go beyond the "role" their parents witness (and that both of them are willingly or subconsciously displaying in front of them); Sora is actually the caring mom/big sister friend who literally and figuratively takes everyone under their wing, Koushirou is opinionated, forward and outspoken when things are dire and at stake.

Sora's mother wants her to act more like "the daughter of an ie-moto", more feminine, less out of line - at least, that is the message that reaches Sora, since her mother asks her to quit her beloved football. Her polite and aloof attitude appears to be rather cold and dismissive to Sora, which is basically what makes her rebel against the whole flower arrangement business. She feels unloved and misunderstood, as if she cannot be appreciated if she isn't "perfect" in her mother's eyes. Thus she is unable to understand that her mother may just worry about her hurting her injured leg even more. Furthermore, Sora has a very poor grasp on the fact that she herself is acting towards her friends and partner in the exact same way, albeit in a more gentle way most of the time.

Koushirou's mother wants him to be more selfish, to tell her what he dislikes and what bothers him, to stop being perfect at all times - but that is exactly what he physically cannot do, as he himself is doubting his whereabouts, who he is and where he belongs to after learning that he's adopted and simply tries to just shove all doubts and worries aside. Instead of acting "normal", he is hiding behind that barrier and mask of perfection towards his parents - and has to realize that this attitude is worrying them even more.

In the end, it all gets (mostly) resolved through them realizing that they're still loved regardless of what happened; they don't necessarily HAVE TO change, but it is up to them whether they want to or not. Meaning, their respective arcs of self-discovery have not ended yet, but the foundation for better relationships has been established here. Sora will start playing tennis (a.k.a changing her hobby) in an attempt to move towards her mother more, choosing to do so for her own sake. Koushirou will try to act more open and casual towards his parents, even though he is actively being reassured that his hobby (being into computers) is exactly what he is all about and that he doesn't have to change that.

[send-me-a-kae-via-subspace]

type of guy to do shit for no Discernable Reason

[diddybok]

OUR BOYS DID SO FUCKING WELL I AM SO PROUD OF THEM!!😭😭

also them winning the only award they were nominated for? this is so good for them. kinda scared since so many more people have seen them now but it’s okay! hopefully jype sees that they are loved everywhere and will let them perform in england okay bye.

[alittlemxchievous]

beg me to piss on you

Yes owner!!!!!! 🥵🥵🥵

[kaethemetalidol]

drdt single handedly getting us all through this week huh.. time really does go by faster when you know you have something to look forward to!!!

[zorosdimples]

UNDER HIS THUMB ꒰ uraume x reader x sukuna ꒱

minors and blank/ageless blogs do not interact—i will block you. cw: suggestive content. nonconsensual nudity. dubious touching. brief descriptions of cannibalism and violence. suicide mention. reader is referred to as “bride” and “wife.” reader has breasts. wc: 1053. notes: uraume ily—please ditch shitkuna for me <3 (based on this idea)

A fire blazes in the yawning hearth, bathing your bedchamber in a warm titian. The shadows of flames leap and dance across the cragged stone walls—a solar flare—a cosmic spectacle. Logs and branches resembling human bones sputter and spark, crackling in your ears. You shift in your seat. 

The diaphanous veil remains pinned to your crown as Uraume’s fingers move deftly through your locks, the sweeping gossamer that brushes your ankles now pooling on the floor. They unravel the intricate updo they crafted for the ceremony, your hair a glowing halo in the firelight, head bowed in gentle subservience. The pins that bite at your scalp are crusted in blood; the sharp pain has long-since softened into a dull throb.

“I hate him,” you announce. 

(It’s how you cope with your precarious situation: burying your fears beneath carefully woven layers of disdain.) 

Barren aside from a bed, a wardrobe, and an armchair, your threadbare accommodations are as cozy as a dungeon. No torch, tapestry, or looking glass adorns the walls. Your companion’s expression is hidden as they continue their work atop your head.

Uraume chastises you after a few beats, affectation frigid as ice. “You shouldn’t speak of your husband in such a manner.” 

You snort. This one-sided union will only further scar the ugly face of matrimony; looking upon your captor with respect or affection is as likely as you kissing the cheek of your slain mother a final time. “My ‘husband’ for all of ten minutes.”

“And still your husband, nonetheless.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” you snap. 

Uraume pushes you to your feet and fluffs the veil with a hum. They circle you, appraising your body—the flimsy, silken robe that ripples across your curves hides nothing from their piercing stare—then, for what must be the fifth time, they adjust the knot that holds the garment together. When their eyes meet yours, you find yourself falling for the ruse, plucking fresh buds from a field of fuchsia.

How you wish their gaze held more than cool indifference.

Ever perceptive, they reach out to gingerly tuck a wayward strand behind your ear; if you close your eyes and still your heaving chest, you can pretend that it’s an intimate gesture—the touch of a lover. “Rarely do we have a say in our own fates,” Uraume muses. 

Fidgeting with your fingers, you quell the urge to embrace your attendant. (It’s a disgraceful thought for a newlywed. But you can’t spool in the words that unfurl from your lips, the edges raw, frayed with longing.)

“I would have taken my life if it hadn’t been for you, Uraume. I can’t stand him.” 

“Master Sukuna would never allow you to harm yourself.” 

“Tch—that vile brute cares little for my well being.” Hatred flares within your chest, your once-blooming heart now withered with rot. Tears of anguish blur your vision and make each syllable tremble. “If he didn’t want to harm me, he wouldn’t have murdered and feasted on my family.” 

A smile tucks itself in the corners of Uraume’s lips like a secret, though you miss it—misty-eyed and waist-deep in a deluge of painful memories. “You seem to forget that I prepared their flesh at my lord’s behest.” 

“I can’t fault you for being trapped under his thumb; you’re kinder than you give yourself credit for, anyhow.” 

They chuckle darkly. “And what leads you to believe that?” 

It doesn’t occur to you until this moment that you’ve edged closer to Uraume. If you leaned forward, you would smell the frost on their porcelain skin, taste the mint on their breath. Despite yourself, you reach out, cupping their cheek. 

“You’ve been my devoted caretaker since I arrived, patient and helpful at every turn. Your presence is the only constant here—my sole comfort.”

“Oh? Is my blushing bride ready to consummate our unholy union?” A rumbling voice cracks the tense air open like a bone, marrow seeping out, juices staining the tender earth. 

Your neck snaps to the doorway. Your monster of a husband nearly blots out the frame with his inhuman physique, clothed in nothing but a simple pair of black trousers, both sets of arms crossed. Disgust pinches your brow and purses your lips; you sneer. 

“With you? Never.”

Amused by your vehemence, the King of Curses approaches you, both mouths curled into wolfish grins. Uraume bows as Sukuna invades your space, two clawed hands wrapping around your waist, the other two cradling your skull. He demands your attention, irises a wine-dark sea of skeletons and ichor. A cursed siren urges you to plunge into its depths. End your suffering.

“Uraume—has my wife been inappropriate with you in my absence?” 

Without hesitation, they answer: “Yes, my lord.” 

Several sets of eyes—one belonging to Uraume, the others to Sukuna—gorge on your discomfort. You bristle under their scrutiny, and fruitlessly attempt to rip yourself from your husband’s grasp, nails scratching angry lines across his tattooed forearms. 

He clicks his tongue. “My naughty little bride.”  

Bile burns your throat at the mock-endearment, bitterness coating your tongue. For as resolved as you’ve been, you shake with rage, the hulking beast before you stoking the embers of your wrath. He smiles something sharp and wicked before releasing you. You stumble backwards, limp as a ragdoll. 

“Uraume,” Sukuna commands. 

There’s an unspoken agreement between master and servant. When Uraume steps forward and swiftly unties your robes, you shriek, the fabric slipping open to expose your nude form. They proceed to rip the garment from your body; it falls to the floor in wispy shreds. 

Attempting to preserve your dignity, you scramble to wrap an arm around your chest and press a palm between your legs. “This hardly seems proper,” you pant. 

Sukuna snickers as he sits at the foot of your bed, spreading his legs. “How else is a ‘vile brute’ supposed to learn the intricacies of his little wife’s body if not through careful examination?” 

As much as you want to spew poison at him, you gasp when Uraume’s chilly lips graze the arch of your neck, their delicate hands slipping up to caress the swell of your breasts. Unable to stifle the moan that warbles past your lips, you make the sinister decision to revel in this pleasure—no matter how short-lived, underhanded, or wrong it may be.

[colettesonpluto]

so much love to give so i spread it to all my mutuals

[autistic-ranpo]

rip greg house you would have loved happy pills by weathers

[aimedis]

THE SIREN AND PROFESSOR - IMPERIUM LASKO/DEAR (+FREELANCER)

this was written from a prompt i got from @piffany666 so thank you and i hope you enjoy <3

cw - lasko being a creep towards freelancer as per usual, lasko being creepy in general, dear being condescending and mildly abusive ngl, lasko is toxic too, moderate hostility, couple's quarrels, not super aggressive though , mild innuendo at the end + lasko still being a creep

wc - 1.3k

Freelancer coughs and shifts uncomfortably in their seat right in front of President Moore's desk as he rambles on and on and on about some human-born superiority bullshit. Again.

They unfortunately found themselves here at least three times a week listening to the same rant. The nodding, the fake smiles and laughter, and enduring his not-at-all-subtle advances on them both verbally and physically.

The only reason they keep coming to these is the slight chance that maybe he'll let them see Vindemeator. But that only worked once in a while.

"...like us. Right, Freelancer?"

Freelancer blinks out of their zoned-out little daze to re-plaster the smile on their face, "Mhm. Of course, Mr. Moore. We human borns are special and I appreciate you telling me that.. again. Uhm, it's getting kind of late-"

Lasko's soft laugh rings unsettling in Freelancer's ears, cutting them off. They barely conceal a shiver.

"Oh please," He grins, "I've told you countless times to call me Lasko when it's just the two of us. We're too close to be on last name basis these days."

They nod slowly, the smile frozen on their face.

Lasko leans back in his desk with a satisfied smirk, "I like seeing you smile, Freelancer. You truly are beautiful."

And Freelancer tries so hard to not let their expression waver, trying not to show the disgust they felt deep in their gut.

"Thank you, Mr M- uhh Lasko.." They force a laugh, "But that's really not necessary."

Lasko scoffs playfully, "Oh, nonsense. I can acknowledge a pretty face when I see one. And you definitely fit that bill."

They stifle what feels like their hundredth sigh when the door to Lasko's office swings open unceremoniously.

Both Freelancer and Lasko look at the new person in the room with very different expressions. Freelancer with one of curiosity and Lasko with one of exasperation.

Dear walks into the room looking down at a bunch of papers they were going though.

"Koko, I need your signature for-" They look up for a moment and double back when they see Freelancer, "-something. Oh, Freelancer. Didn't expect to see you here at this hour."

Freelancer misses the death stare they give Lasko for a split second as he nervously readjusts his tie.

They wave hesitantly with a smile that's a little more genuine, "Hi Professor."

Dear sighs, waving them off, "Don't call me that, kid, it makes me feel old."

Lasko interrupts with a tight voice, "To what do I owe the pleasure, my dear? I was under the impression that you were busy today."

They huff an all too sweet laugh, "Yeah well, clearly I'm not anymore. I wouldn't be wasting my time in here if I had work to do."

Lasko pokes his tongue at his gum in irritation, "Right.."

They only raise an eyebrow at him before looking back at Freelancer.

"So, Freelancer, what are you doing here so late? Surely you would have better things to do than spend time in here with... him." They snort, "Finished all your studying for the week or has Mr. Moore been keeping you too long? How long have you two been chatting away, hm?"

Freelancer stutters at the amount of questions but they glance over at the clock in the corner of the room, "Uhm.. around three or four hours?"

Dear laughs out of surprise, "Four hours? Goodness, Lasko, do you have no sense of time?" They turn to glare "playfully" at Lasko, smile still stretched across their face.

He sits up a little straighter, "I.. didn't realize it was getting so late. I apologize, Freelancer. Dear, do you really have nothing better to do?"

They giggle, "Than be in here riling you up? Nothing brings me more amusement."

"Must be time to find a hobby then," He says quickly, crossing his arms.

Dear looks him up and down, their smile fading. Right then, Freelancer stands up from their seat.

They grab their bag and sling it over their shoulder, smiling at the two, "I- I think I'm gonna head out now. Thank you.., Lasko, for seeing me. See you in class next week, Professor. Have a good night, you two."

They both look away from each other quickly. Lasko coughs and gives Freelancer a look that they almost interpret as pleading.

But surely the Academy's president wouldn't be pleading with them. Right?

Freelancer shrugs it off and turns around.

Dear bids them goodbye and Lasko sighs almost inaudibly.

"I'll see you next time, Freelancer. Focus on your studies now!"

Dear looks back at Lasko to continue their conversation to see him still looking at Freelancer's turned back. They follow his gaze only to find that he's staring directly at Freelancer's ass.

They clench their jaw and drop their stack of papers on the desk so loudly, that Lasko flinches at the noise.

"Eyes up here, Moore," They roll their eyes as they sit on his desk

Lasko lets the faux kind act drop in front of them and leans back lazily in his chair, "Whatever. What're the papers for?"

"Don't worry about that. I remember distinctly telling you two days ago not to ever have them in here alone with you again, you creep."

Lasko rolls his eyes, "This shit again- Yeah, and I remember distinctly telling you then that I am the president of this academy and I'll do whatever I want. You can't boss me around."

"You can hardly call yourself a president when all you do with that title is use to get into innocent human borns' pants-"

"I do not-!"

"I see the way you look at them, Lasko." They deadpan, "You're not slick in the slightest."

"I look at them like one of my students!" Lasko laughs helplessly, "I would never do that to you or them. You're being paranoid."

"You think I don't hear all the comments you make about their pretty face? Their body? Lasko, I'm not stupid."

Lasko just scoffs, "And when you go around batting your eyes at random security to get stuff from them? Or touching the other teachers so they cover for you while you go get high off your ass?" Dear smirks at him, unfazed, "It's called efficiency. I'm just getting what I want around here. You should try it."

"No thanks, I'd rather not be a whore-"

Lasko hisses when his head is pulled upwards by his chin by none other than his dearest.

They look pissed. He loved it.

"Watch yourself, President. You know you don't actually hold any power over me." They squeeze his face a little.

He huffs, "Would you let go?"

"You're so cute when you're frustrated with me, Koko." They smile falsely.

"I must be pretty damn adorable then- let go-!" He struggles a little as he tries to think about literally anything other than their hand moving to yank at his hair, "Please?"

"Take this as a lesson, hm? Leave the Freelancer alone, Lasko. Or I'll really be upset. You don't want that, do you?" Dear hums.

Lasko looks away from them, blush high on his cheeks, "No, Dear. It won't happen again."

"Look at me when you speak."

He sighs and pouts up at them, "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you?"

Dear smiles, "Promise?"

"Always." Lasko gives a soft hum, eyeing the papers again, "And those?"

"Ah. Don't worry about what it is, just sign the last three pages and I'll be on my way."

He nods and grabs a pen from his pen holder and quickly signs off on all of them. He knows better than to question Dear when they want something from him. They'd still get it in the end so it's no use to fight in the place.

Lasko smiles when they kiss the section of hair they had pulled on before grabbing the papers.

"Thanks, Koko, I appreciate it. I'll come to yours later tonight." Dear waves, turning their back to him with a little wink.

Lasko waves back, an unsettling smirk on his lips, "Bye, see you."

He's practically drooling, looking down at their ass as they leave too.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

freak lasko vindemeator and freelancer mention old married couple's quarrel freak lasko whore duo chin grab slutty hair pull dear dear innuendo ass glance freak lasko and post

[trans-kevin-juice]

i’ve been thinking about @doobledabbadoo’s cookie lately. /pos

I love him very much, so i had to draw him :]

[mysweettoyaaoyagi]

Your date with Toya . . . ☕₊˚⊹౨

what if you went on a date with Toya?

Toya was the one who came up with the idea. He wanted to make you happy.

At first he didn’t know what to do! What do you both like? Singing? Dancing? As Toya was wondering, he got the best idea ever! Let’s go on a date to WEEKEND GARAGE!

As you were walking there, he was holding your hand.

Finally, in the cafe, you ordered [your favourite food] and Toya ordered his favourite cookies.

While you two were waiting, he put his hand on top of yours. You both looked really adorable!

You also met with Kohane, Akito and An! They had all shipped you and Toya, so when they saw you together on a date they were happy for you two.

Even if you two were eating, Toya couldn’t stop looking at you!

After Toya finished his cookies, he started to feel sleepy… You were talking with [your favourite VBS character except Toya]. And then, you noticed your boyfriend fell asleep on your shoulder!

You didn’t want to make Toya wake up, so you stayed like that.

At the end, Kohane took a picture of you! And the picture... It's still in your album!

Toya loves you so , so much . . .