#real life bimbo stuff

[poppyisanalien]

Idk what this is I just like the vibe

[droaxa]

✧ tags: yandere cheater x reader, angst, yandere, nsfw content

✧ warnings: obsessive yandere behavior, stalking, nsfw content, cheating, angst, creep behavior, jealousy, grabbing, sexual acts

✧ a/n: you guys wanted both the yan royalty and yan cheater so imma do both ‼️ i’ll post the royalty one later cause you guys are in for a treat

not proofread but enjoy! (ty for the love on the last post as well <3)

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

cheater bf who sleeps with your friends behind your back. it’s not like you were anything special anyway, he just tolerated you so he could get closer to some real women

cheater bf who makes you beg for the bare minimum: giving you his jacket, holding your hand during a scary movie, etc etc but does all those things for your friends with a charming smile

cheater bf who says you’re overreacting after he holds your friends hand during a scary movie instead of yours

“hey don’t be selfish, poor girl looked like she was gonna cry. what kinda friend are you?”

you miss the way his fingers trailed up her thighs halfway through the movie when you squeeze your eyes shut. terrified of the unfolding movie scene as your bf comforts another girl

cheater bf who has fucked your roommate in your dorm room bed. oh you’re asking why they look sweaty and tired? they were trying to move your bed cause she dropped something behind it ofc.

cheater bf who finally gets caught a year into your relationship after you walk in on him mid-thrust into your ‘friend’ after they both excused themselves to the bathroom during your hangout.

cheater bf who zips up his pants and runs after a sobbing you to explain but stops half way, what was there to explain anyway? you would be heartbroken yes, but he had got what he wanted didn’t he? ignoring the dull tug on his heart he returns to his dorm

ex bf who throws himself on his bed while thinking about you. finally he picks up the lingering sent of you on his bed and various items that belong to your littered across the room. little gifts to him and cards wishing him happiness. maybe you’d become more intertwined in his life than he thought

ex bf that drops your stuff at your new dorm in a cardboard box, unluckily for you, you open it at the same time and are left staring at each other. like a cat you quickly dart out, grab the box, and retreat after locking the door can’t you just look at him once?

ex bf who feels empty after your breakup, he misses your cooking, your nagging for him to take care of himself, your smiles. fuck. what was the point of being free to fuck whoever he wanted if all he could imagine was you?

ex bf who stalks your socials, irritated that you removed him from your posts and blocked him on everything. and one day when he’s on his burner stalking you, a new story pops up. it’s innocent enough, a picture of you at dinner with a small caption “dinner out”, but then he notices the masculine hand on the table across from you wearing a watch not quite made for a woman.

his blood is boiling. you’re his. his girl.

yandere cheater who scours his room for anything that reminds him of you, finally finding a shirt in the back of his closet that he didn’t find earlier. suffocating his face with the soft fabric, moaning as he sniffed the garment

yandere cheater who hurriedly ruts into his hand as he hold the fabric up to his nose, cock leaking as he fucks his hand to your scent. he cums hard, harder than he had with any of your bimbo ‘friends’

yandere cheater who finally realized what he was missing: you. he caves in and incessantly messages and calls you, showing up at your door to win back your love.

yandere cheater who grows tired, he’s always been impatient. he knows what he did was wrong, especially to an angel like you but everyone deserves a second chance right? after all you were his soulmate

yandere cheater who shows up at a cafe you’re at and sits across from you like nothing is wrong. when you get up to leave, he forces you back into the seat. whispering in your ear to not make a scene. pulling out his phone he reveals intimate pictures of you from your relationship.

“it would be a darn shame if anyone saw these hm? your poor mom would be so disappointed that her dear daughter was just passing these around”

your eyes widen and you beg him to delete them, you’ll do anything!

“just come back to me and all these will be gone”

he grins, to wide to be kind. he wouldn’t send them out anyway. your body was his alone to see. but fuck did it have a effect on you, your big eyes fill with caution.

“please there must be-“ he cuts you off.

“there’s no other way than back to me sweets”

once you shakily get up, he throws his arm over your shoulder, keeping you pinned to his side as you both leave the coffee shop. your hot coffee long forgotten on the table as the chilly air hits your faces. your body further fills with despair as you pass the ally next to the shop, spotting the date you were going to meet. face bloodied and body limp against the red brick.

your ex was always far stronger than you, far stronger than anyone else you had met too. his dedication to martial arts was one of the things that had drawn you to him. but now, his vice grip on you as he guides you to his car isn’t to prove his strength to protect you. it’s to intimidate you into giving in to him

and if you didn’t, there would be consequences.

[parkersbliss]

I just read your story with American!reader and I loved it. It made me want to see the all the 141 boys maybe reacting to Reader saying “I wish British people were real” as a joke they saw on TikTok. I love your writing💗💗

you anons that request stuff are on something bc your ideas are so good??? thank you I love YOU

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x American!reader 

warnings: gaz and ghost is mildy suggestive, um price asking if you're dumb, that's it I think

a/n: life would be so much better if British people were real man

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for call of duty!

—

Ghost:

Simon was painfully British. That much was obvious to anyone who met and got a word out of him. His accent was thick, intertwined with every word that essentially screamed “I am British” in your face. You would be a liar if you said it wasn’t part of the initial attraction to him. The deep grave voice, mixed with a foreign accent. Yeah, you were easy like that. 

And Simon, despite his thick accent, wasn’t a patriotic man. Sure, he cheered for his sports team, measured in metrics, wore the flag patch during combat, etc. but he wasn’t in your face about his nationality. None of that “My country is better than yours” toxic patriotism. Still, that didn’t mean there weren’t things you poked fun at him for. The tea obsession, the way he said certain words, the lack of flavor in some of the food. 

You had your grievances against Britain. So when Simon was watching the news with you on the couch, the news reporter accent heavy across the room, you get an idea. 

With a sigh, you lean back. “Man, I wish British people were real.” 

Simon turns to face you, quirking a brow. “What?”

“I wish British people were real,” You repeated, pointing at the Newscaster. “It’s obviously a fake accent.” 

“What the bloody hell are you on about?” 

You suppress a laugh as you give him a blank stare. “They’re so funny, the accents. I wish they were real, that’s all.” 

Simon narrows his eyes at you, fingers brushing across your shoulder from the arm slung across the back of the couch. “I wish Americans were real.” 

“Me too,” You agree as Simon rolls his eyes. 

“You think you’re funny, hm?” 

“I think I’m hilarious,” You corrected him as he shifted you to sit in his lap. 

“‘M gonna start calling you an American bimbo if you keep spewing such bullshit.” 

You tap your chin in fake thought. “I bet you’d be into that.” 

Simon scoffs, hands moving to your hips. “Glorified idiocy? I think not.” 

You put on a valley girl accent, twirling your hair as you blink rapidly at him. “Oh, my god! You are so hot.” 

“Stop.” 

“Like totally bangable.” 

Simon’s face is turning red as you laugh manically. “You’re done,” he said, lips meeting yours to shut you up. 

“I knew you were into it.”

“Shut. Up.”

Gaz: 

You sat with your back to Kyle’s chest, his chin resting on your shoulder as his hands rested under your shirt. You’re idly scrolling on Tiktok, letting him watch because, really, he was a girl at heart too. Grocery hauls? Organizing my makeup? Day in my life? He was sat. He presses feather-light kisses to your neck occasionally as your thumb swipes across the screen. 

It’s another of many influences doing a grocery haul, and you both pause to watch it. Her accent is light, but still obviousas she pronounces words like blueberries, brekkie, and other British slang. 

You had gotten mostly familiar with it living with Kyle in London, but the accents here were much lighter compared to up north. 

You frown at the video. “I wish British people were real. They’re so funny.” 

“Excuse me?” Kyle asked, pulling his chin off your shoulder to look at you. 

“The accent? The slang? The Chinese food?” You list out. “It’s such a good running joke. Such a shame they’re not real.” 

Kyle’s lips pulled into their signature scowl. “What the fuck am I then?” 

“An ongoing joke?”

Kyle snorts at that. “What the hell, love? You’re taking the piss, right?” 

You shake your head. “See. I know your secret. I don’t get why you insist on still using such British phrases.” 

“I am British,” Kyle said slowly. 

“And I’m George Washington,” You counter. “No point in hiding it.” 

“Love,” he starts gently. That was the best thing about Kyle. He was always so kind and gentle with you. His hands move up and down your sides. “British people are real.”

“I don’t think so.” 

“So what was the American Revolution?” 

“Staged.” You’re testing his patience, wondering exactly when he would either give up or pull up the evidence that Britain was real. 

“Please tell me you’re kidding.” 

His tone of voice strained, and his brown eyes pleading with you. You feel a little bad, stressing him out, so you relent. “I am, baby.” 

He exhales in relief, head falling back to the crook of your neck. “Jesus Christ.”

“Do you think I’m that stupid?” You ask, leaning into him a bit more. 

“Well—” 

“If you wanna get laid tonight think about your answer.” 

“I think if you thought British people weren’t real, it’s a common misconception.” 

You giggle, turning to face him and kissing him gently as he pushes you to the bed. “Good answer.”  

Soap: 

Johnny was a passionate man. He is passionate about his work, his hair, his partner, and his country — as in Scotland.Great Britain was fine too, but he didn’t like being looped in with the British. He made an exception for work though, wearing the flag patch with pride. And occasionally tolerating his British brothers. However, back at home, your front porch has the Scotland flag hanging from it, and he had plenty of blankets of it and sports teams hanging around in the house. Yes, Johnny was a passionate man. And if you gave him the chance to poke some fun at the British, oh, he’d take it. 

“You know, it’s really cool you’re able to find someone who sells all this Scottish merch.” You’re pretending to look at the mug in your hand with some Scottish phrase on it that’s white and blue.

Johnny turns to face you, spatula in hand. “I got it from the coffee shop down the street.”

You nod. “Yeah, that’s really cool they sell this stuff.” 

His brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

You set the mug down on the table, crossing your arms on the counter. “Well, you know, because Scotland isn’t real, but they still—” 

“What did you just say?” 

“Scotland isn’t real?” 

He drops the spatula turning to you with crossed arms. “Yes, it is.” 

“But like the national animal is a unicorn, and unicorns aren’t real…” 

“The national animal is a unicorn because it represents how Scotland is unyielding and remains unconquered.” 

“But I didn’t learn about it in geography.”

“You’re American,” Your boyfriend deadpans. “You only learn the states and the other world powers.” 

You sigh, cupping your chin in your hands. “It would just be nice that Scottish people are real with their silly little accents.”

Johnny drags a hand down his face. “How are we having this conversation? The Kingdom of Scotland emerged in the 9th century, and in 1707 they joined to form Great Britain…” 

That’s how you ended up with a history lesson about Scotland as Soap continues cooking dinner for you both. And you weren’t complaining, after all, with how passionate he was about reciting the history of his home, cooked in a kiss-the-chef apron in your Scotland theme house, what was there to complain about? 

Especially when he sets the plate of food down in front of you, kisses you softly, and says he loves you. Oh yeah, you believed in Scotland. 

Price:

Your husband was a straightforward man, something you had always admired about him. If he didn’t like something (or did) he would tell you. It’s part of what makes him a great captain, that ability to give it you how it is.

Of course, when it came to you, he did turn it down just a bit. If the meat you cooked was a little burnt, that’s okay, he’lleat it. If you prank him by trying some soup with a secret spoonful of salt, his face will give it away despite the “mmm SO good” he attempted to utter. Yes, John tried very hard to not hurt your feelings. It was the next best quality you loved about him. But like anyone else, he has his limits. 

So when you’re both laying in bed, John reading a book as you watch your favorite cooking show, you get an idea. 

They were going over the best way to cook a beef Wellington, a British classic, but not one you particularly cared for. 

“Honey?” You ask. 

Your husband closes his book, moving his reading glasses up. “Yes?” 

“Do you ever wish British people were real?”

There’s a moment of silence before your husband sighs deeply, opening his book once more. 

“It was a genuine question,” You continue.

“Here’s a genuine answer: are you stupid?” He glances at you over the top of his book and sees the smile breaking across your face. 

You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips. “No.”

“Why do you find such joy in tormenting your husband? Gonna give me a heart attack one day.” 

“Stress is good for the body,” You reply. “I’m just making sure you’re healthy. Gotta keep you on your toes.” 

Your husband drops his book once more, gathering you in his arms. “You’re doing a wonderful job, dear.” 

You lean your head on his chest, hearing the deep rumble in his chest as his arm wraps around you. He’s warm as always, like a furnace radiating heat deep in the winter, just in the form of a personified grizzly bear. 

“Soap would like that joke,” Your husband muses. 

“Think I should try it on him?”

John brushes a piece of hair out of your face as you look up at him. “Without a doubt.” 

– END –

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🏷 COD taglist: @looking1016 @Bitchyzombietaco @lilwinchester67 @crypticlxrsh @echo9821 @trxpslxt @the-kakawshi-bird @gaz-oline

[bimbosanddolls]

I'm 1000% a pop girlie. I used to listen to a lot of rock and rap, but that's decreased a whole bunch since I really started my bimbofication.

Oh! Except for like, the bimbo rappers like Meg, Nicki, Doja, and Cardi. They def go on the bimbo playlists too!

I feel like the bimbo aesthetic feels like it’d be a match w pop music. Which like I def listen to some of. But like def overall more like alternative, rock and metal.

If you’re like about bimbo-y stuff too, what’s your music taste most like? Is it like expected?

[iamhereforfunnzies]

Fun idea what about a gyaru! Reader, Like she tried to get attention for being high maintenance but no amount of spending will ever dent the fortune of the wayne

Girlie you spend over 1,500 dollars with my melody inspired nails , make up cost more than an entire state of Gotham High , always shopping in taobao or out thrifting. I can also imagine this reader active in social media (Tiktok , Instagram , youtube , and etc.,). Like those bimbo tiktokers who are actually smart? Yeah that is so you.

Bruce! He noticed you because he saw you making a youtube tutorial on how you do your makeup. He always thought he never influenced you since he barely talk with you , he felt proud about it having a normal child in his mind. He didn't ruined your mental health with this batman stuff. He genuinely did care , he thought having atleast one normal child who didn't have to risk their life to crime was a gift enough of him. When he heard you talk though... The way you speaked sounded too much like him. Not as batman but as Brucie Wayne.

The persona which he fabricated so no one can guess he is Batman, he knows you don't know anything about his Vigilante life so he had a epiphany. He never actually truly showed his real personality with you did he? He appeared to always been a playboy , party animal , sex addict , and himbo to the media. The way you talk is a mirror on his persona , it terrifies him it's ridiculous.

Eversince he started trying to "clean" you , he can't have you imitate his persona that will stump your development. He started always joining you to your nail sessions , makeup spree , and shopping clothes. He legit forces you to waterdown your style by cutting your allowance and monitoring you. He even learned makeup, specifically clean girl makeup or douyin cause he finds it adorable. He loves buying you elegant dresses from Dior , Vera wang , and Channel. He genuinely loves matching with you. His Brucie Wayne persona tames down just to set a example for you.

Damian! When he first saw you , he actually liked how colorful you are. He never once talked to you just because he assumed you were dumb and the family never converse about you. He didn't want to waste his breathe but that didn't mean he didn't find you stunning.

He loved painting , drawing , and using your color combinations of your outfits as an inspiration. You always thought he was glaring at you but the truth he is admirring your makeup , wig , and charms around your bag. He loved doddling you around his sketchbook. He started an insta account just to see fits he never got to see up close. The day he saw one of your reels about you talking about finance , politics , or any topic he was dumbstruck.

He started talking to you, it was awkward at first. The first thing he said was why you dressed like that. It didn't to sound insulting he just curious but you gave him a loopy smile saying why not. A moment to himself after that conversation he wanted to be closer to you. His sibling who so colorful and fun. He hated when Bruce started to "clean" you. He wanted to rip that man to shreds when he saw less of your vibrant long nails , and colorful wigs.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

I WAS SO AFRAID TO ASK FOR DILF! ANI OMGGGGGG, I thought you had took a break of writing for himmmmmm.

But anyway, you think ya could write something about him in the daily life with reader? I think it will be fun to write and read

Author's note: aww nonnie, please don't be afraid to send any request! I just didn't have any idea for more dilf!ani, i don't think I'll ever stop writing about it. Hope you like it nonnie, sending you big hugs <3

The rumble of ANAKIN’S SKYWALKER vintage black Camaro announced his arrival before your eyes even saw him. You sat on the porch swing, pretending to be absorbed in the book you’d brought out from your small apartment, but your attention snapped to him the moment he stepped out of the car, already causing a wide smile grow over your lips.

He was a walking temptation - plain and simple. Faded jeans that hung low on his hips, a white t-shirt stretched across his chest just tight enough to tease you, and that damn leather jacket slung over his shoulder. He ran a hand through his messy curls, his gaze landing on you like you were the only thing worth seeing in this damned place

“Didn’t think I’d find you here,” voice low, teasing. He climbed the porch steps with that disgusting confidence that made you feel weak.

How this man is even real?

“Shouldn’t you be out with people your own age? Doing college stuff or whatever it is you do?” his gaze roamed over the area of student's dorms - ugly, old, and already falling apart.

You raised an eyebrow, snapping the book shut. “And miss the chance to watch you strut around like you’re God’s gift to the neighborhood? Never.”

His smirk deepened, and he leaned against the porch railing, looking down at you. “Careful, sweetheart. People are gonna start talking.”

“They already are,” you shot back, standing up so you could face him properly. He didn’t move,towering over you as if he knew how much it affected you. “But you don’t care, do you?”

His hand brushed a stray hair from your face, finger wrapping around it before letting it go “I care if it bothers you.” his gaze moved for a moment to people watching you both from their windows

But it didn’t. Not even a little. And judging by the way he looked back at you—as though he was trying to figure out how much longer he could hold himself back—you had a feeling he knew that too.

“Anyway,” he pulled back just enough to give you any room to properly breathe without smelling his strong yet so intoxicating cologne “I’ve got leftovers from dinner that I've had with CFOs. Figured out I’d bring some by so you don’t starve in that shoebox apartment of yours.”

“You brought me food?” your tone amazed, as if it was a shock he was so thoughtful

“You like lasagna, right?” His smirk softened into something warmer, more genuine. “Thought so.”

And just like that, you knew you were screwed - fallen for a man almost twice your age

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[bimbosanddolls]

Bimbofication via sleep-deprivation is so real. I was kept up all night and now I feel like, so tired and dumb and weak. I'm just laying here with my brain feeling like it's moving through like water or something? And I kinda just wanna be groped and praised while my brain floats away? I really don't wanna have to be a person today. I just wanna be a dum dreamy dolly.

[lexxiesbimboboobs]

Enabling

I need someone, in real life, who would just enable my bimboness. I'm shy, being a bimbo is hard, and breaking barriers, doing things that are not socially acceptable (in my head) is even harder.

It'd be so good to just have someone by my side to be that corrupting influence. Someone who doesn't care about how "realistic" their advice is, about the "social implications" of what they're doing to me or if it's "a good place to take my life". That voice that would just affirm every single bimbo thought in my brain, helping them turn into reality.

"Throw out all of your unsexy clothes."

"Wear only pink"

"No, of course you don't need to think, you're just a bimbo toy".

"Bleach your hair".

"Stuff plastic into your tits until they're bigger than your head".

"Who cares that you don't like the way lip filler looks - I like it, it makes you more plastic, so go get some more".

"You shouldn't be just thinking about fucking them, go do it".

"Be a good doll and drop on your knees".

"You don't need a normal job, you'll have an OnlyFans".

All these thoughts keep circling in my mind again and again. I'd be 90% plastic by the end of next year if someone was there to enable them and turn them into reality.

[thehighladywrites]

— “I’m just a girl!”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you tell azriel you don’t know what taxes are, and that you haven’t filed them ever

☀︎ — warnings: fluff, dramatic reader, azriel being sweet and educational

☀︎ — amara’s note: man i wish i was her rn💔 also this is so fucking real bc what on earth are taxes???

series masterlist

“Baby, please, you have got to grasp the gravity of this situation. Not filing your taxes is no joke. You could end up behind bars for tax evasion! There was a whole mandatory course last semester, didn’t you take it?” Azriel's tone is firm, his concern painted all over his face as he stands infront of you.

When you revealed that you didn't know what taxes were or how to "file" them, Azriel got worried sick, emphasizing the importance of understanding basic responsibilities like this.

He brought you into the living room, seated you on the sofa, and stood in front of you, carefully explaining step by step why not filing taxes was illegal and how to fix the situation. However, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on his words, your attention completely consumed by his built muscles. Your mind goes blank as you find yourself daydreaming about him taking off his shirt.

Azriel knows you’re not focusing on his words, he knows you’re ogling his body, and even though he gets warm and loves it, he needs you to focus on the topic, at least for a few minutes.

“Are you paying attention, baby?”

You honestly don’t get it at all. Like, if they take tax from you when you’re shopping, shouldn’t they already know how much you owe or whatever? And who even are the IRS? Can’t you just live your life without all this complicated stuff? Why does Azriel have to make everything so...ugh, what's the word? Complicated?

“Oh my god, Azzie! Stop it, I don’t wanna do this and I don’t understand anything. Please, I’m just a girl!” you exclaim dramatically pulling your knees to your chest as you hide your face in your hands, tears prickling in your eyes. You’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation and the sheer thought of dealing with stupid taxes.

Azriel sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. If he doesn’t have a gray hair by the end of the week, he’ll consider it a win. As much as he wants you to understand what is wrong with basically committing a crime, he doesn’t want you crying, he feels sick to his stomach seeing you so sad but he just has to fucking ask.

“You’re—You're just a girl— sweetheart, what does that even mean?” he asks gently, completely flabbergasted by your statement.

You fold your arms over your chest, chin held high as you say, “Ya heard me, m’just a girl. And that means i should not be doing any of this, i should be living my best life instead of thinking about whatever taxes are.”

Azriel just looks at you with raised eyebrows, man you’re stressing him the fuck out. Luckily he caught your illegal activities early otherwise you would have gone to prison for sure. Even though he thinks it was ridiculous for a person to have never done their taxes ever, he doesn’t hold you against it. He just slumps his shoulders, taking a breather. Azriel can never be mad at you, never at his sweet angel. Especially not when you look so upset, big sparkly eyes looking at him with worry.

It’s in that moment. That tiny moment, he decides to never confront you with your mistakes. Sure you almost went to jail, but Azriel is here now. He is intelligent enough to think about the more serious issues for the both of you. And he will for the rest of his life, not because he has to, but because he wants to. He wants to take care of you.

“You’re right, my love, you shouldn’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it,” Azriel assures you, his tone gentle as he tucks a strand behind your ear.

You look up at him, eyes shiny with unshed tears as your face lights up before you stand up and jump into his arms, showering his face with kisses, your excitement bubbling over.

“Awe, you're the best baby, I love you so, so, soooo much!” you exclaimed, your words flowing freely in your ditzy excitement.

He laughs shyly, still getting nervous when you show him affection. “I love you too, beautiful.”

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[m3vl0vesu]

ʙʀᴜᴄᴇ ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪs ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇsᴏᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇʀ sɪsᴛᴇʀ.

A/N: Hiii!! I wil make a masterlist soon I just have some stuff rn, the fanfic writer curse is real chat...anyways! Hope you enjoy, constructive criticism is always welcome (just be nice) :D. This is a WIP, think of it as a blurb, the TW is for what you might see, this is very light. Tw: underage drinking, self harm, SA, you've been warned <3

ʙʀᴜᴄᴇ ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪs ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇsᴏᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇʀ sɪsᴛᴇʀ.

That's what newest headline read, it was no longer up anymore of course. Alfred just about managed to get all the newspapers wiped, with the help of Bruce of course.

In all honesty it was true, the youngest Wayne was troublesome. Before Brucei Wayne there was you, a teenage drunken mess. Not that anyone caught on the drunken part. In Gotham, drinking at fifteen really wasn't a big deal. The police had better things to worry about, it's what you loved and hated about this place. Plus, a bit of money and maybe some grade A bimbo acting you get off scratch free, and not a word of it catches wind to your brother.

Bruce on the other hand, sure he may not know exactly what's happening to his younger sister but he knows it's not just a 'rebellious phase' as the media puts it. Sure it could be teenage hormones, or it could be something much worse. In his eyes you started pulling away from him, even from Alfred. And sure Bruce could be more active in his sisters life but as he puts it, he's busy. In his eyes you’d spend time after school hanging out with kids he had had never seen you speak to, you'd never even mention these 'friends'. He felt like his innocent sister was slipping through his fingers, the threads between you two fraying and thinning as time passes. He wanted it to stop.

He's seen the way the media was portraying his baby sister, it didn't sit right with him. But not a word of complaint was uttered, it didn't seem to be affecting you. Little did he know that you were trapped in prisons the system, the media had created, and when he knows it'll be too late. That's when he appears, the push he needed to become the dark knight, Gotham's very own hero. Based of the youngest Wayne's favourite animal, the bat.

[nimbusghoul]

The Nice Soap-Viktor x Bimbo!Reader

Pairing:Viktor x Reader

Type: Fluff TO smut for the entirety

Fandom:Arcane/LoL(more Arcane Vik than LoL Vik, let me have my twink, okay?)

WC:1337 This is just a sneak peek, if you want more, I'll continue to provide, Don't hate me!

Viktor was never one to catch feelings easily, but when you came into his life from being a good friend of Jayce, he began to feel something new.

When Jayce introduced you to him, he didn’t know how to react to your bubbly air headed nature, it was new. Sure, Jayce is charismatic, but he didn’t shine as bright as you did, you could light up the whole room with a personality like that.

Maybe you weren’t the smartest, but you were an amazing listener, and things didn’t seem to get to you very often. Usually just in one ear and out the other, but when you were interested, your body language changed, anyone could tell you were paying attention, even if you usually didn’t fully understand.

You’d turn yourself towards him and lean in again or prop your elbows on the table and put your chin in your hands, kicking your feet a bit, and it was when you would ask most of the questions.

“What’s that?”

“What, a Hex Core?”

“Mhm! I dunno what that is, Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, I understand not everyone has the same knowledge. Ehh, a Hex Core is an adaptive rune matrix with Hextech in the middle…the potential for ultimate advancements in technology!”

“ohhh!… what?? I dunno what that stuff is either, i mean, i know what runes are but…what’s…all the other stuff??”

Viktor took a minute, how would he explain this without making you feel like you had less and less knowledge? He would never want to hurt your feelings, you were too pretty to be sad.

“Hextech uses magic to create artifacts, it’s made up of a special crystal. It can do all kinds of things, not just for me and the hexcore is full of hextech, which means it has all kinds of that magic.”

“Sounds like a lot of math, which i’m not good at. I think I’ll stick to less complex things and let you handle all of that genius people stuff”

You were really the only person who could distract him from his work. He had completely forgotten about the papers in front of him, his focus was on you, even if the papers were the thing you asked about. He realized he doesn’t ever really ask any questions that he had for you

“May I ask you an…odd question?”

“hm, of course! just make sure it’s not too complicated of a question? really big words get me all confused…”

“Of course of course. Those nails of yours, are they real? like, your actual nail? they’re quite long.”

“What? god no, these are made with powder polymethylmethacrylate and a monomer liquid!”

You turned over you hand and tapped on the underside of your nails, Viktor was a little shocked from that long word you managed to string out describing the acrylic powder

“So…they are plastic?”

“Nope! You gotta put the liquid with a bit of the monomer and then put it on top of a guide, sometimes plastic? but I like to use my silicone one because it peels better, and thennn you put the whole thing under UV light for it to harden and they’re so much better than fake plastic nails! fake nails that are plastic feel so icky and come off WAYYY too easy. plus nail glue can fuck up your skin soooo bad!”

“ah, i see, so you know a lot about this topic?”

“Of course! if i’m gonna look pretty I have to be healthy and to be healthy i have to know what Im doing to my body! That’s why I like hate cOsMeTiC sUrGuRiEs cause like everyone is beautiful in their own way and the fact that people think they have to pay to be beautiful is really disgusting! everyone was made to grow differently, just because you don’t look like your neighbor or your pretty classmate doesn’t mean you aren’t pretty or attractive or perfect! But like Botox for headaches is fine, it helps with migraines!”

“I see you feel very strongly about these things, Is there a reason why? Perhaps a connection to memories in which it makes you upset about this topic?”

“Well…I just want everyone to be happy, you know? and if you hate yourself because you don’t look like everyone else…that’s not happy. The only thing that’s truly ugly or unattractive is the way we treat some people, and the awful things we say and do. Ugly doesn’t exist *on* people, it exists *in* people.”

You turned to Viktor after finishing a sentence, a small smile, the first real one you’ve seen, but you decided not to say anything, having an internal celebration instead of external. Celebratory of small victories(or should i say Viktories, okay yeah i’ll see myself out sorry), it was rare to see Viktor smile from what Jayce has told you.

“You are very different from me, and yet i enjoy the company you provide, it’s quite odd, with how different our knowledge is you’d think I would be annoyed with all your questions, but you also have knowledge I don’t. I do not look into what I wear or the lotions, soaps and sanitizers I put on my hands-”

You were quick to accidentally cut him off, suddenly remembering why you came to the lab in the first place, even when it slipped out on the way from your home to the lab.

“OHMYGOODNESS!! I tOTALLY forgot about that! Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off, but I wanted to say I got you some new soap because i was reading the ingredients and yours contained formaldehyde!! that’s probably why your hands are always so dry, that is so bad for your skin! I also got you some lotion because they’re so dry from that awful soap…”

You quickly dug through your purse, pulling out a large bottle of moisturizing hand soap and some hand lotion with aloe, quickly placing them on the desk

“I literally went to the market at like 8 this morning because I knew that’s when they first set up so like they weren’t all gone when I got there!”

“You did this for me?”

“pshhh, yeah! and i got my pet some more of those cute special treats, they only get sold like twice during the week and they’re all gone in like an hour. it’s so terrible if I can’t get my sleepy butt up in time to get some!”

“Are they truly that important?”

“Well, my pets are like…my family! they’re like my little babies and I would literally assault whoever the hell runs this universe for my babies?”

“I apologize, I was speaking about the soap.”

“Oh, oops! Yeah, I wanted to get you something nice, plus, all the really nice ones sell out so fast! Especially like when this huuuuge group of wives come through and buy like literally everything nice.”

"Group of...wives?"

"Yeah, like, you know, middle aged women who don't need so much damn soap?"

"Ah..."

he seemed to take a pause to think

"Why...for me? Why not for Jayce?" He asked, looking up at you

"What? Your hands are dry, Jayce doesn't have...all that as an issue...you know?"

He seemed surprised as he thought before laughing quietly

"How are you so sure what my hands feel like? I'm sure Jayce is very touchy...but you know, I am not."

You felt your face heat quickly

"Well, I- they sound dry! You know, when you rub your hands together and it sounds...dry, like you can't hear my hands unless I rub them together really hard!"

He chuckled softly at your embarrassment before standing

"I find it cute that you care. Thank you, Солнышко(sólnyshka)"

-CUTOFF FOR PREVIEW-

[gojozballs]

Gojo x Reader "Bimbo Protected by a Powerful Obsession"

Warnings: [This story contains themes of Yandere behavior, obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, and intense emotional control. It includes adult themes, hate comments, toxic relationships, and moments of emotional distress.]

Materialist

In a world where fame is everything, Y/N, a bubbly "bimbo" with a hidden side, finds her life taking a dark turn as her obsessive, yandere lover, Satoru Gojo, will stop at nothing to protect her by eliminating anyone who dares to threaten their twisted bond.

Author's POV

Mitsui Y/N, a 20-year-old "it girl" celebrity, was the epitome of perfection. Her radiant smile adorned billboards, her flawless features graced the covers of the most coveted magazines, and her voice became a melody ingrained in commercials. She was the girl everyone aspired to be, a vision of unblemished grace with an untouchable reputation. Not a single whisper of scandal tarnished her name.

Yet behind the shimmering facade, Y/N was blissfully unaware of her own naivety a living, breathing bimbo hidden beneath the glitz and glam. How had the relentless media failed to uncover this side of her? How had her immaculate public image remained untarnished?

The answer was simple: Gojo Satoru.

Y/N perched herself on Gojo’s lap, her sparkling eyes brimming with excitement as she kicked her legs playfully. “Toru, did you miss me?” she cooed, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger in that adorably clueless way that drove him insane.

“Miss you?” Gojo drawled, his hands already sliding up her thighs, his touch possessive yet gentle. “Sweetheart, the real question is: how do you expect me to survive without you?”

She giggled, oblivious to the intensity in his tone, and held up a lipstick, her nails perfectly manicured. “Look at this new Chanel shade I got! Isn’t it just the cutest? It’s called Rouge Allure Velvet.”

Without waiting for his reply, she leaned in, pressing playful kisses against his lips, leaving faint pink marks on his impossibly perfect skin. “Do you like it? I think it totally makes my lips pop!”

Gojo smirked, his gaze fixed on her with an almost predatory edge. His hands roamed to her waist, pulling her closer. “Hmm, it’s nice, but you know what’s even better?” His voice dropped, his fingers brushing against her cheek. “You. Always you.”

Y/N giggled again, her eyes fluttering as she toyed with the lapels of his jacket. “Aww, Toru, you’re such a charmer!” She tilted her head, her lips forming a soft pout. “I actually wanted to ask you something important!”

“Anything, baby,” he murmured, his tone indulgent but his eyes sharp, already bracing himself for whatever bubble-headed request was about to tumble from her glossy lips.

Her cheeks flushed as she clapped her hands together. “So, I want to do this movie!” she began, her voice rising with excitement. “It’s, like, a romance—enemies to lovers. Isn’t that so cute? Imagine me being all dramatic and stuff!”

Gojo’s brows twitched, his signature smile still plastered across his face, though a dangerous glint sparked in his eyes. “Oh? What role are you taking, sweetheart? A side character, right?”

Y/N gasped, her hand lightly swatting his chest. “No, silly! I’m the main character, duh! I mean, I totally deserve it.” She leaned in conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And get this, the actor playing my love interest is so nice! Like, he even said I reminded him of someone special. Isn’t that sweet?”

Gojo’s grip on her waist tightened imperceptibly, his jaw clenching as a flicker of jealousy ignited into a wildfire. “That so?” he said, his tone smooth, though there was an unmistakable edge lurking beneath. “Sounds like you’re having... fun.”

“Oh, totally! We even did some test scenes,” she continued, utterly oblivious to the storm brewing in his eyes. “He’s, like, so talented! And honestly, Toru, he kind of reminds me of you!”

His smile widened, sharp enough to cut. “Reminds you of me, huh? That’s interesting.” His fingers slid under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. “But let’s be clear, sweetheart—there’s only one me, and I don’t like sharing.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Sharing? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said with a saccharine sweetness that didn’t match the darkness swirling in his eyes. “Just make sure you’re unforgettable, my love. Leave an impression he’ll never forget.”

As Y/N giggled and began rambling about her wardrobe for the film, Gojo’s mind was already working. A plan was forming, one that would ensure this actor learned his place and that Y/N, his darling, naive Y/N, never looked at anyone the way she looked at him.

After all, she was his. Completely. And anyone who thought otherwise wouldn’t just regret it. They’d disappear.

Secret

Two days into filming, Y/N’s normally radiant, carefree energy had begun to waver. The sparkle in her eyes seemed dimmer, her usual bubbly chatter quieter. On set, her lines were perfect, her presence magnetic, but behind the scenes, an uneasy restlessness had taken root.

It wasn’t hard to pinpoint the reason. Satoru, who would normally bend time and space to be by her side even if it meant flying across continents on a whim had been uncharacteristically absent. He hadn’t called, texted, or sent one of his usual teasing voice notes. For someone who practically lived in her shadow, Satoru’s silence was glaring.

Seated in her dressing room, Y/N fidgeted with her phone, scrolling through her texts for the hundredth time. Still nothing. She pouted dramatically, glancing up at Ijichi, her ever-anxious assistant, who stood nearby clutching a clipboard like his life depended on it.

“Ijichi,” she whined, stretching out his name “Where’s Satoru?” Her glossy lips jutted out, her voice dripping with need. “He hasn’t even called me! Doesn’t he miss me?”

Ijichi froze, his eyes darting to the floor. The room suddenly felt a lot smaller. “Uh... well, Miss Y/N,” he stammered, beads of sweat forming on his brow. “He’s… busy.”

“Busy?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “What could possibly be more important than me?” Her pout deepened as she tossed her phone onto the vanity with a huff, crossing her arms. “Toru always calls. This isn’t like him!”

Ijichi shifted uncomfortably, his grip on the clipboard tightening. He knew better than to tell her the truth. The truth being that Satoru wasn’t just busy he was furious.

Ever since Y/N had gushed about her charming co-star, Gojo had been in a silent spiral, his jealousy festering into something dark and consuming. He wasn’t the type to sulk or throw tantrums not outwardly. Instead, he schemed. The co-star’s face had been burned into his memory, every word Y/N had said about him replaying in his mind like a cruel taunt.

“Busy doing what?” Y/N pressed, tilting her head, her perfectly styled hair catching the light. “He’s not mad at me, is he? Did I do something wrong?” Her voice quivered slightly, and Ijichi’s heart clenched.

“Of course not, Miss Y/N!” he said quickly, forcing a smile. “He’s just… handling some things. You know how important you are to him.”

She seemed to consider this, her brows knitting together. “Well, he better hurry up and finish, because I need my Toru,” she said with a dramatic sigh, leaning back in her chair. “Everything’s so boring without him around.”

Ijichi nodded awkwardly, silently praying for divine intervention. He had no doubt Satoru would make an appearance soon but when he did, it wouldn’t just be to reassure Y/N. It would be to deal with anyone who had dared to get too close to what was his.

And Ijichi pitied the poor soul who’d unknowingly crossed that line.

Learning The Hard Way

On set, chaos unfolded, and Satoru Gojo watched it all unfold with a twisted sense of satisfaction. His crystalline eyes were fixed on the live feed displayed across the sleek monitors in his private suite. Hidden cameras ones only he had access to captured every humiliating second of Y/N’s unraveling.

She stumbled over her lines again, her usual carefree giggle now tinged with nervousness. “CUT!” the director’s voice boomed, his patience hanging by a thread.

“Are you even an actress?” he barked, his tone sharp enough to make the crew flinch.

Y/N blinked, tears threatening to spill, her lip trembling. “Um, excuse me?” she snapped, trying to salvage her pride. “Do you even know who I am?”

Satoru leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he swirled the whiskey in his glass. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his tone dripping with mockery. “Always so pretty, so clueless, so mine.”

The director didn’t dignify her outburst with a response, simply waving her off in exasperation. Y/N stormed off set, her heels clicking furiously against the floor as she muttered insults.

“She’s cracking,” Satoru mused, his smirk widening. He had planned this meticulously, orchestrating every detail. From ensuring her entourage was trimmed down to a mere two assistants to letting the media leak whispers of her “difficult behavior,” he had crafted this storm just for her.

The live feed cut to her dressing room, where Y/N was sobbing into her hands, her mascara streaking down her cheeks. “This is the worst day of my life!” she wailed, flinging her phone onto the vanity. “Where is Satoru? He always fixes everything!”

Satoru chuckled darkly, leaning forward to get a closer look at her tear-streaked face. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “I’m right here, watching every pathetic second.”

She grabbed a tissue, blowing her nose loudly. “Ijichi!” she screamed, her voice cracking. “Where is he?! Why isn’t he here?!”

Ijichi appeared on the screen, visibly sweating as he stammered, “He’s… unavailable, Miss Y/N.”

“Unavailable?!” she screeched, her voice shrill enough to make Ijichi flinch. “He’s never unavailable! What’s he doing that’s more important than me?!”

Satoru’s grin turned wolfish as he watched her descend further into despair. She looked so fragile, so utterly dependent on him, and he loved every second of it. This was her punishment for even considering a movie with another man as her love interest. The mere thought of her gazing at someone else the way she gazed at him had made his blood boil.

“No one touches what’s mine,” he murmured to himself, his voice low and possessive. “And now she’s learning the hard way.”

The camera feed shifted again, this time showing the headlines flashing across her phone screen.

“Is This the Real Y/N? Fans Shocked by Diva Behavior.”

“From ‘It Girl’ to Drama Queen: Y/N’s Tantrum Goes Viral.”

She sobbed harder, clutching a pillow as she screamed into it. “They’re all just jealous! I’m perfect! Right, Ijichi?” she demanded, her voice frantic.

Ijichi stammered something unintelligible, but Satoru barely heard him. His focus was entirely on her on the way she squirmed under the weight of her shattered confidence, on the way her glossy lips quivered as she whispered his name like a prayer.

“Oh, baby,” Satoru murmured, running a hand through his hair, his grin never faltering. “You’re so beautiful when you’re broken.”

For now, he would let her stew in her misery, let her feel the sting of his absence. And when he finally decided to appear, she’d cling to him, beg for his reassurance, and he’d remind her exactly why she belonged to him.

This wasn’t just control it was devotion, his own twisted way of keeping her tethered to him. And he relished every moment of it.

Gala

Despite her protests, Y/N’s manager, Nobara, had insisted she attend the prestigious gala to repair her image. "You need this," Nobara had said firmly. "Think of the headlines: ‘Y/N Bounces Back with Stunning Appearance.’ You’ll remind everyone why you’re the queen."

Reluctantly, Y/N agreed. But as she sat in the back of the luxury van, her arms crossed and her lips pressed into a pout, she couldn’t help but feel a sliver of hope. Scrolling through her phone, she found supportive comments that lifted her spirits.

"Y/N getting an invite to the gala while your faves are watching from home. Iconic."

She smiled to herself, murmuring, "One more car," as she prepared to step out and reclaim her spotlight.

Then, she saw it.

Through the tinted windows, her eyes locked on the car ahead as the door opened. Out stepped Utahime Iori, a veteran actress known for her elegance and poise. But what made Y/N’s heart drop was the man beside her—Satoru Gojo.

Her Satoru.

He looked devastatingly handsome in his tailored suit, his white hair perfectly styled. But what shattered Y/N was the way his hand rested so casually on Utahime’s bare back as the cameras flashed.

Y/N’s world crumbled in an instant.

“Why is Satoru with her?!” she shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria. Her hands trembled as she clutched her phone, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Why is my Satoru with her?!”

Nobara reached out, trying to calm her down. “Y/N, relax. It’s probably nothing—”

“NOTHING?!” Y/N snapped, tears streaming down her face. “He’s touching her! He’s supposed to be here with me! I’m his everything! How could he do this to me?”

The driver, sensing the situation spiraling out of control, bypassed the red carpet entirely and headed straight to the hotel. Y/N refused to budge from her seat, curling up in a corner of the van like a wounded animal. She furiously dialed Satoru’s number over and over, but it went straight to voicemail each time.

Each unanswered call felt like another stab to her chest.

When the van door finally opened, Y/N didn’t bother looking up. She sniffled, her voice weak. “Ijichi, I told you to leave me alone. Just—go away.”

But the voice that responded wasn’t Ijichi’s.

“Still doubting my presence, Y/N?”

Her head shot up, and there he was. Satoru Gojo stood in the doorway, his trademark cocky smile firmly in place. His eyes glinted with something unreadable, a mix of amusement and something darker.

“Satoru!” she cried, her voice breaking as she launched herself into his arms. Tears streamed down her face, her sobs wracking her body as she clung to him like a lifeline.

“Shhh,” he cooed, his arms wrapping around her effortlessly. In one smooth motion, he carried her to the backseat and settled down with her on his lap. His hand stroked her back soothingly, but there was a possessive edge to his touch, a silent reminder of who held the reins.

“What was that, Satoru?” she hiccupped, her face buried in his chest. “Why were you with her? You’re supposed to be with me! Always with me!”

He tilted her chin up, wiping away her tears with a tenderness that made her heart ache. His expression was soft, but his gaze was sharp, watching every flicker of emotion on her face.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “Utahime is just a business partner. That’s all.”

“Really?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Really,” he assured her, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “Sweetheart, you’re the only one for me. Always.”

“But—” she started, her insecurities bubbling to the surface.

“Always,” he repeated firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “Do you think I’d let anyone else take what’s mine?”

Her tears slowed, her sniffles softening as his words sank in. Satoru’s arms tightened around her, his smile turning predatory as he whispered against her ear, “You’re all I’ll ever need, Y/N. And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

There was no doubt in her mind she was his. But what she didn’t see was the glint of satisfaction in his eyes, the dark pleasure he took in her jealousy and need for him. Because in Satoru’s mind, nothing was sweeter than reminding her, in his own twisted way, that she was utterly and irrevocably his.

Hero

The next morning, Y/N woke up to an eerily quiet internet. Her fingers automatically reached for her phone as she snuggled deeper into the silk sheets. What she saw left her blinking in confusion. Every negative comment, every viral video mocking her, every tabloid article dragging her name gone.

Vanished.

She scrolled furiously, her fingers trembling. "What...?" she muttered, her lips parting in disbelief. The posts that had kept her up all night crying, the ones that had painted her as a diva and a failure, had completely disappeared.

Curiosity spiked, she tapped on the actor’s profile the one she’d been working with. His bio had been wiped clean, his latest post a bland apology about “unforeseen circumstances.” Confused, she searched for the director, only to find his name plastered across trending hashtags. Not for praise, but for scandal.

#BlacklistDirector, #ToxicWorkplace, #UnfitForHollywood.

Her jaw dropped further. What shocked her most, however, was Utahime. The veteran actress had released a carefully worded statement overnight.

"My relationship with Satoru Gojo is strictly professional. I deeply respect his personal life and regret any misunderstandings caused by last night’s gala."

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she pieced it all together. The once-vicious online storm had been replaced by a sudden vacuum, as though someone had erased it all with a single command.

From the living room, she heard the faint clink of a coffee cup being set down. Satoru.

Wrapping a blanket around her, she padded out to find him lounging casually on the couch, one arm slung across the backrest, his legs crossed as though he hadn’t a care in the world. He looked up as she entered, his signature smirk already in place.

“Toru,” she began, holding up her phone, “everything’s gone…”

“Hmm?” he hummed nonchalantly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“All the videos, the comments… it’s like they never existed,” she whispered, confusion lacing her voice.

He set his cup down with a soft clink, his cerulean eyes gleaming with amusement. “Weird, huh?”

Her lips parted as the realization began to dawn. “You… you didn’t—”

“All you need to know,” he interrupted, his tone light but firm, “is that no one messes with my girl.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. A mix of gratitude and unease swirled in her stomach, but the overwhelming emotion was relief. She crossed the room, sinking onto the couch beside him. Her head rested on his chest, her fingers clutching the hem of his shirt.

“You’re my hero, Toru,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

His hand slid up to thread through her hair, his touch gentle, but the sharp edge in his gaze betrayed the dark possessiveness simmering beneath his calm exterior. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

“Hero, huh?” he echoed softly, his voice carrying a dangerous undertone she was too blissfully unaware to catch. “Sweetheart, I’m not a hero. Heroes save the world.”

His fingers tightened slightly in her hair, tilting her head so she was looking up at him. His smile was still there, but his eyes were shadowed with something far more intense. “All I care about saving is you. Because you’re mine, Y/N. And you always will be.”

Y/N, oblivious to the weight of his words, giggled, snuggling closer to him. “I’m glad you’re here. Everything’s better when you’re with me.”

He hummed in agreement, his hand now tracing patterns down her back. But his gaze flicked to the window, his thoughts elsewhere.

The actor? He hadn’t just been fired Satoru had made sure he’d never work again. The director? His “toxicity” would keep him blacklisted for decades. And Utahime? Well, she had learned her place, quickly clarifying her “strictly professional” relationship with Satoru and making sure the press had the narrative they needed.

Satoru’s grip on Y/N tightened as a dark, possessive smile curled at his lips. She didn’t need to know the lengths he’d gone to for her. She didn’t need to know the strings he’d pulled or the threats he’d made.

All that mattered was that she was his. Always. And he’d ensure that anyone who dared to come between them learned the consequences.

For now, though, he was content to hold her close, basking in the warmth of her naive trust. Because Y/N might have seen him as her hero, but Satoru Gojo was far from it. He wasn’t a hero.

He was her everything and she was his obsession.

[bimbosanddolls]

OMG yes!!! I wanna a little treasure chest at the end! It can have like, cute lip glosses and stuff in it!

literally jus paid $1358 for the worst torture of my life !!!

40 units of botox in my forehead

2 syringes of restylane in my smile lines

1 syringe of restylane in my lips

like yeah it was worth it, but it literally hurt sooooooooooo bad. Botox doesn’t rly hurt, but the other fillers r jus pure agony… anyway, I’m doing it again in 3 months !

if u wanna support me on my bimbo journey or buy me a lil treat for all the suffering i went thru i’d appreciate it a lot ! heheh

also i think medispas should have a lil treasure chest where u can pick a reward at the end jus like at the dentist

[alphajocklover]

I'm 23 and have been obsessed with body-building for years. I'm nowhere near big though. I'd love to be blown up into an absolutely massive freak. I wanna struggle to fit through door ways, I want furniture to bend under me. I want most guys I hit on to think I'm too big.

Please can you blow me up and grow me into the biggest bodybuilder possible.

It’s finally time for another one of my personal transformations. It’s been a little bit since I helped turn that guy into a bodybuilder jock with a supernova charged battery, but last time was so much fun I knew I had to do it again when the chance came up. I guess the only real question is what transformation method is right for you. I could always use the supernova battery again, or one of the other transformation methods I mentioned in my first personal transformation, but if I’m being honest part of the fun last time was sharing all the ways I could transform people. So how about we take a look at some of my newer transformation methods.

Your first choice is a CD. It’s a special video made for me by a local football coach who has recently introduced the Jock Studies program to his school. I reached out in the hope of getting an interview with him, and just got this in return. Not even a proper response. It’s… kind of an obvious trap too. I mean, I ask a bunch of people who are famous for turning people into submissive jocks to give me an interview, and they send me an unmarked CD? I mean, you can’t report on this kind of stuff like I do without someone trying to transform you eventually. I was actually kind of honored that they considered me enough trouble to target me… but not enough to actually watch the video. You can have the CD if you want. I’m absolutely certain you’d turn into a massive jock. Although you’d also be incredibly submissive to the coaches who made this, which might not be your jam. Let’s look at the others before you decide at least.

Your next option is a bit complicated. It’s a time machine, recently stolen from a group named the SAD (society against douchebags) by the Douchebag Revolution. I did a favor for them recently so they gave me this. Said they could trust me to use it responsibly. Well, sort of. The way they said it included a lot more ‘bros’ and ‘fuck yeahs’ but that was basically the gist. Anyways, we could use it to change you by changing your past. A little manipulation of your life and you could end up a bodybuilder. The thing is that time travel is… risky. Ever heard of the butterfly effect? That’s why I try to avoid time travel as much as possible. Too much can go wrong. Let’s move onto something else, since this one is so… unpredictable.

How about this one? It’s water from a familiar little town called Maxford, the one that turns anyone who enters it into a straight, conservative jock or bimbo. Turns out drinking water that’s bottled inside the town has similar effects. Turns you into your Maxford self for 24 hours. You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to get this. Entering Maxford was an… interesting experience. Um, anyways, it might not be the best choice for you. It’s temporary, and it will turn you straight the entire time you’re a hunk. That can be fun to try, but I get the feeling you want something more permanent. Let’s look at something else

Finally is a specially made necklace, a gold chain with a miniature dumbbell pendant. It’s made by a jewelry store chain that might sound familiar to you if you’ve read some of my earlier stories: EB Jewelry. Normally these are pretty expensive, and you’d have to buy them directly from EB Jewelry, but there was a mistake with manufacturing and they ended up with a surplus of these things. I bought a ton of them and wouldn’t mind parting with one. Put it on and you’ll transform into a total bodybuilder jock. More than that, I can give you more than one. You can share them with your friends, make an entire group of bodybuilder jocks that barely fit through doors. Yeah, that one is definitely the best choice. Go ahead, try it on.

Fuck you look good. You seem quite a bit dimmer now, which is to be expected, but god you look like walking sex. Make sure to share those necklaces with your friends. Using more than one might have… side effects. Plus, the more huge jocks, the better.

[babygirlbreeder]

Good evening, Kinky friends 🧡

I think it's time I tell you a little about me💕

*My name is Pinky!

* I'm a little ages 5-7 (age regressed)

*I'm obsessed with breeding and EVERYTHING that comes with it!

* I'm extremely Girly

*I'm extremely spoiled... I have real-life tantrums

* My favorite colors are Pink (of course) Red and Yellow

*I LOVE my Paci

* I don't wear Diapers

*I don't use a bottle

* I love Care Bears, Hello Kitty, My little pony and barbie dolls💕

* I don't leave the house without my sippy cups or my paci

* I perfer to eat on toddler plates

* My voice is squeaky ( yes I really talk like that)

* I'm actually really smart but I don't like making decisions

* I need daddy to do EVERYTHING for me!

🙄Terms or Words I don't like🙄

Please do not come in my dm's and call me a breeding whore, cum bucket, slut, slave, slut whore, Dumb bimbo, or dumb slut

There is nothing on my blog that suggests that I like any of that! I'm am a princess!! 👑

( I really wear crowns)

I'm sensitive and shy...those hurt words hurt my feelings and I will probably block you🤷🏾‍♀️

In other words" Fuck me like a Whore, Don't treat me like a Whore"

💕Phrases I will Accept 💕

Good Girl, Baby Girl, Princess, Pinky, Pinky Pie, little one 💖, Hucow, Good little Hucow, or Pretty Girl!

I know the perception is Girls with big boob's are dumb, or girls that like to be used by man are dumb...sorry to ruin the fantasy for you boys...I actually have a College Degree...hehehe... Im very Smart but...I really enjoy letting Men be...Men! I enjoy being controlled and disciplined...I just want to enjoy raising my kids and being a trophy for him to show off. I don't want do Man stuff...like think or make decisions *Giggles*

I do like bruises but I don't want to be beat, I like to be hit but only if I deserve it!.

P.S Thats a picture of me before my hucow transformation...I plan to never look like again! I perfer to be cuddling to give daddy something to hold on too👅💦

[scarlett-foxxx]

i totes understand this so hard ~ lesbimbo here too so the c*ck stuff everywhere drives me insane … like, there are totally lesbimbos too! where are our gifs & files???

also i don’t want an on/off switch ~ i just want to be a bimbo fucktoy & be giggly, happy & silly 24/7 ~ what’s so wrong with that?

*giggle*

I feel a lot of what I see on tumblr about the dumb bimbo stuff is like a bunch stuff that feels like very pro smart girl that’s like just dumb for you or for cock at specific times (like it’s a switch you can turn on and off) or it’s like from someone who’s saying this is all some escapist fantasy and they’re actually a smart girl.

I’d really like seeing more of like not fantasy content. Like someone really getting dumber and bimbo-y-er. Not something w an on and off switch. Cause it’s like real life for me. And sometimes tumblr makes me feel alone w that.

There’s nothing wrong with it being more fantasy for people. I jisr know it’d be nice for me to feel more like there’s other people where it’s like real life.