#i forgot ur emoji

[manifall-moved]

⭐- absolutely silly billy, goofy goober, rascal on this blog, a real rabble rouser if you ask me

ur the rabble rouser

[decaydanceredacted]

so… Anyone got audio of Pete Wentz like… whimpering or moaning - 🖤🎀 anon

[blu-eh]

btw research and disaster hit 25K and just. nani the fuck

HOW????

[chairhahaha]

ignore the horrendous attempt in animation and focus on the Fact that it. is Lagtrain.❤️

E😭😭😭😭😭😭😭Enyu😭😭😭😭😭😭And Fugue!E😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

(fugue au es by @hectorthedoggo idk if tags r annyoning pls lmk if they are)

lol

[inkykeiji]

helloo :)

can i get thirst + 1950s kei hehe

prompt: thirst series: 1950s au warnings: historically inaccurate 1950s au, reader is female, ur in keigo’s lap for pretty much this entire piece, a very spit-slicked kiss words: 1.3k

absolutely!!! thank you so much for requesting him hehe c:

“It’s another hot-hot-hot one out there, folks! Twenty-eight degrees, with temps climbing into the mid-thirties, and a humidex of thirty-six,” the voice on the radio cackles, stuffed with static. “Be sure to keep those bodies cool and those throats hydrated!” 

Gosh, when is this heat wave gonna end? you’re murmuring to yourself as you push past the swinging screen door, a glass pitcher of freshly made ice cold lemonade in your hands, droplets of condensation already beginning to stream down the curved sides. 

“Hopefully this can help quench your thirst,” you set the pitcher down on the rickety wooden table next to Keigo, holding a glass steady as you pour, sure to get a few ice cubes and a slice of lemon, just how he likes it. 

“Thank you, angel,” he takes the glass from your hands, grateful, tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip. 

“So?” you rock a little on the balls of your feet in anticipation, keen eyes watching his Adams apple bob as he swallows a mouthful. “How is it?” 

“Mm,” he hums as his hands encircle your waist, pulling you down into his lap, the plastic of his lawnchair squeaking beneath your combined weight. “Perfect, as always.”

He noses along the curve of your neck, inhaling slowly as he plants sloppy, open-mouthed kisses across your damp flesh. The light summer breeze rustles the leaves of the old oak tree on your front lawn, twining through the full branches, caressing your saliva-slicked skin and leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation in its wake. Sighing, your body relaxes against Keigo’s as your head tips back, exposing more of your neck to him.

“That nice?” he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice smooth and thick like caramel. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, eyes still closed. “Feels good.” 

You feel him lean away for a moment, taking the heat of his mouth with him, ears pricking as teeth clink against glass, as ice clinks against teeth. Then he’s back, an ice cube cupped in his tongue, frosty and frigid as it drags across your feverish skin. 

The unexpected cold makes you jump, and Keigo chuckles—a deep, velvety sound that vibrates against your flesh—as he licks up the notches of your neck, ice gliding with his tongue, slow and purposeful.

Chills erupt across your body, back arching just a little and pressing further into his touch, powerless to stop the soft mewl that spills from your lips. 

He takes his time with it, unhurried in his ministrations, thorough in his work, each caress of his tongue meticulously thought out, sure to cover every inch of exposed skin he can easily reach—the nape of your neck and the blades of your shoulders and the column of your throat—until the cube has fully melted, leaving a mess of watery saliva painted across your skin in large, wide strokes.

The icy tip traces your jugular vein one last time for good measure, up, up, up, traveling along the edge of your jaw to the lobe of your ear, and shivers skitter up your spine, sending a wave rippling through your flesh. 

“All done,” he purrs in your ear, breath still chilled from the ice. 

And you just can’t help yourself, suddenly parched for him, twisting in his grasp and capturing his lips. Hands splayed wide on either of his cheeks, you tug him closer, fingertips hooking behind the hinges of his jaw, nails sinking into his skin, leaving behind shallow crescents. 

He tastes sticky-sweet, a syrupy film of vanilla cola still clinging to his tongue and lacing his spit, complemented by the slight sour tang of the lemonade. Your tongue curls around his own, sucks it into your mouth and scrapes your teeth across the surface, desperate to swallow down whatever you can of him, to steal just a stringy piece of him and hold him in your tummy, close to your heart. 

A keepsake, while he’s away. 

Finally, you part, with glimmering lips and spit-slicked chins, chests heaving together with ragged little breaths.

“Wow,” Keigo chuckles, the word wispy, eyes shining bright like two starbursts of topaz. “What was that for?”

“I, um,” you turn away from him, suddenly shy, settling back against his body and tucking your face into your shoulder. “I just—I really don’t want you to go tomorrow,” you admit softly, a slight pout in your voice. “I know it isn’t fair, but...” 

But I want you all to myself. But I miss you like crazy when you’re gone. But it’s true. 

“I understand, baby,” he leans his cheek against yours, short stubble scratching your sensitive skin, and squeezes you to his chest, tight and secure. “You know, you could always come with me...”

“Keigo, please, don’t start—”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” you pull back to look at him, shifting a little in his lap. 

Holding his stare, your eyes search his, shimmering topaz ever-changing in the late afternoon sun, flickering with the sunbeams streaming through the fluttering leaves, casting shadows and shapes on his face. He gazes back just as steadily, nothing but sincerity brimming in his eyes, and your lips tug down. 

Fingers brush back the golden curls saturated in sweat sticking to his forehead, carding through the unruly strands in a rhythmic motion, eyes following their movement.

He catches your wrist, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to your palm. 

Keigo’s been attempting to persuade you to quit your job for a while now, to abandon the life you worked so hard to build, painstakingly from the ground up and with your own two hands, to throw caution to the wind and come jet-setting with him around the world despite the fact that you know next to nothing about his work—nothing about his elusive and mysterious job that requires freshly pressed and finely tailored tuxedos, that pays six figures, that allows him to have a two-storey house and a 1957 cherry red Chevy Bel Air and a collection of glittering Rolex watches—despite the fact that, technically, you aren’t allowed to. 

“You know I’d love to, but my job at the diner—”

“Isn’t necessary anymore.”

“Is important to me,” you continue, voice firm with conviction. 

You know he doesn’t exactly get it, why you’d want to keep working a broke-down job at a shitty little mom & pop malt shop when he can now provide for all of your needs, and more, but this job holds a certain type of sentimentality.

Because it’s something that’s yours, something you earned all on your own, accomplished through your own volition and hard work, something that enabled you to claw your way to freedom.

You love the grease, the way the scent of fresh-cut fries and sizzling cheeseburgers twines through your hair and carries home with you. 

You love the sticky milkshakes and melty sundaes and ostentatious banana splits, the way they always seem to perpetually stain the tips of your fingers, tinging everything with sugar. 

You love the speckled white tables and the glittery red booths and the checkerboard floor, the way your regular customers’ eyes light up when they spot you.

You love it all, so dearly. 

“I can’t just leave.” Not now, not yet, not until you’re ready to let go. 

He doesn’t exactly get it, but he doesn’t need to. 

It being important to you is already enough reason for him.

He glances up at you through thick gold lashes, thumb pausing in its quest to pick off a chip of peeling white paint from the table, holding your eyes for a moment before giving a resigned nod, shoulders slumping ever-so-slightly in another defeat. 

“Ah well,” he sighs with a shrug, pulling you back to his chest and cradling you in his arms, chin resting on the crown of your head. “It was worth a shot. One of these days you’ll finally say yes to me, and I’ll be the happiest man on earth.”

“Yeah,” you murmur softly, arms curling around his own and hugging them to your torso. “Maybe one day.”

It isn’t the first time he’s suggested it. It won’t be the last; not until you finally say yes.

But you think you’re alright with that. 

[rogdona]

[cadaverre]

rawr

furry!

[hansolz-moved]

is THAT ANON SERIOUS? like just think about this for a sec, anon. sm entertainment, who are pretty well known for not kicking anyone out, have literally removed taeil IMMEDIATELY. no "we're looking into this" shit, it's just a straight "we have removed HIM" adios. goodbye. and his members have all unfollowed him. this shows it's something VERY serious and the fact that there are others like that anon, make me SICK. he has either ADMITTED what he's done or SM have seen the case and gone "yeah fuck this, this is bad". anon u need to go touch the whole damn field and so does anyone else who thinks he is innocent.

there is nothing in the world that can convince me that he didn’t do exactly what he’s accused of

[augustinewrites]

HEY HI AUGUSTINE I LOVE U AND HOPE U ARE TAKING GOOD CARE OF YOURSELF!!! <3

what do you think the fushigojos are getting up to on halloween???

HI LEAH I LOVE U AND MISSED U AND HOPE U ARE DOING WELL!! <3

what are the fushigojos getting up to on halloween??? IN THEIR PERFECT LITTLE WORLD i think they’re definitely hosting a halloween party for baby’s first halloween 🥺 i just know fushigojo mom, gojo, and baby go as rapunzel, flynn, and pascal while megumi and tsumiki go as elsa and olaf (you know he was MISERABLE but he agreed to it bcs it’s fushigojo baby’s fave disney character)

then they go trick or treating and gojo eats all the candy that his little baby gets LOL

[flovverworks]

pien

[whump-queen]

It’s me monster energy anon (from the last ask) that’s my name now :)

I love your tags (/gen) but uh. What if I went out the window

-monster energy anon

(referencing this)

you think I can’t aim out a fucking window?

[more art]

[decaydanceredacted]

Bougie stereotypically perfect dom!Dallon forever. Must I paint you a picture. Must I describe. Is it not enough to look at him and hear it from his own mouth?

I can paint a scenario if you’d like, but nothing compares to the aura he puts out on his own.

- 🍷

.

[kwonhochi]

me reading your Valentine’s Day tags:

askfjskfhskfh 😭 this is so real… my results were something of a misfortune sandwich tho if u ask me the car was somewhat ominous as well

[thevqid]

‘i beat tea and holly here’

that means nothing you just did crazy photoshop

[hikari-writes]

never seen a banner with the least amount of graphics possible (im sorry i just never shut up about this game)

AUWIHSJBEHDJEEUQDJE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 U pulling for non-existant, invisible man ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

And no worries! im happy u decided to drop by <3333 feel free to scream to me abt anything enstar or non enstar i dont mind <3

[seiwas]

hi sel!!! i hope you’re doing well! if you don’t mind, can you tell me your favorite hc of iwa? i’d love to hear!!!

reina hello!!! i hope you’re doing well 🥹 and OF COURSE i don’t mind 🥺 i have so many hcs of that man it’s tough to pick a favourite!!

not entirely sure if some of these are even counted as hc’s but my go-to is that hajime likes night drives and plays rnb music with his hand on your thigh 😌 and it isn’t just resting on it—you best believe he’s adding some kind of grip too 😌

i think he has high alcohol tolerance during his uni days but is almost always the designated driver so he swaps out some drinks w water midway through the night. he’s also suuuuper the type to drink ur drinks for u if u can’t anymore 🥹 ALSO pro at beer pong.

he’s a dry texter and labels his contacts all with first name last name except oikawa just bc he needs a warning (and also bc oikawa changed it himself but iwa got annoyed and changed it back but oikawa changed it again and SO the compromise is that it’s a nickname, just not a nice one LOL) & bc of this no one knows who he’s texting, if they’re special, a potential interest etc. he’s more of a call person!!!

super private lol like the type to have 3 photos on his instagram or smth 😭 and i think they’re mostly all related to his degree/career or some form of physical activity. he only starts posting more when he sees it as necessary in building a following and credibility. also the type to get unintentionally famous for looking the way he does LOL he def gets some protein powder/blender bottle brand deal just for appearing in one of his athletes’ videos bc he’s shaking a bottle and drinking protein at the back LMAO 😭😭😭

oh my god reina i could go on thank you for asking 🥹