Gal Pals

I wish you could do voice notes on here and I could rant ab little things and it’d be like we’re all on the phone

A Cursed Forest

Synopsis: in which you journey on with dragon!sukuna who runs into someone he knows Word Count: 2k Warnings: cursing, not proofread Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

You have been walking for hours and hours since dawn break when the first light lit up the entrance of the cave. On that morn, the Cursed King had shifted into the form of a man — hulking and terrifying, a true beast — and strode forth from the cave with no instruction to guide you. Yet, you knew better than to utter a query or seek command, for his will was plainly wrought: follow him wherever he pleases. 

So you did. 

The ground was dry, cracked, and parched as if no rain had ever lay even but a kiss upon it. The sky darkened with the threat of tempest, though no breeze stirs the air, nor no sound, and no sign of life in the forest. It frightened you impossibly further, for you were so certain the trees were alive all through the night, but then, as your captor, or your saviour, you’ve yet to know, marched along, with you in tow, you knew then that it was his very presence that commanded an eerie stillness upon every branch, every leaf, and every critter that had made this place its home. 

Sore and bruised, your feet ache with every step; you dare not complain. Instead, you pray to the Heavens that your stomach will not grumble so loudly and that this destination the King has in mind arrives soon, for there is not much more you can give. 

Power coursing through his veins, he does not seem affected by this long journey through the forest. He is not lost, he does not thirst or hunger, he does not stumble or slow his pace. He is as steady as time and just as silent and merciless. 

A step for him is a leap for you, and you are struggling to keep up. When you stop by a tree, leaning against the rough bark to catch your breath, he stops, too, but he does not meet your eye. He simply stands tall, his unclothed back rippling with tension, and you rush to your feet, not wanting to irritate him with your weakness. 

He journeys on wordlessly. 

Midday passes, and you have not eaten, drank, or rested. Your mortal limitations are dragging your limbs down, forcing your mouth to dry and your vision to spin. 

“M-my Lord,” you stutter, nails pricking your palm, “if I m-may, I do not think I can go on much longer.”

Halting ahead, he turns and regards you with his full attention. He’s looking, really looking, and what he sees displeases him greatly. With a sneer, he makes a sharp turn and mists away. 

You slump to the ground, ashamed of the way your knees quiver and how blood so easily leaks from shallow cuts on your bare feet. You are just as your family says: weak, pathetic, and useless. Nothing had ever prepared you for this twist of fate, from being cast out to being offered as sacrifice for the drought and then to taking on the role of companion to the most monstrous beast that plagues the Kingdom of Eden. 

It is a mockery. 

The salt in a wound that runs deep and defines you. 

“Drink.”

Your eyes had shut without your realisation and when they open, you think perhaps you are delirious, because you are somewhere different. Still imprisoned in the Dark Forest, you are now at the river that pierces straight through. Rushing forward, you slurp down the fresh water. Life pulses in your very heart. It is cool and refreshing and everything you needed.

Dripping down your chin, the water you cup in your hands is soaked up by your dress more so than your own lips, but you cannot find the decency to feel shame in front of the King. 

Heat blasts your back, sudden and light, and you feel it tickle your skin. Behind you, your captor holds a charred bird, smoke curling out of his mouth. He throws it in your lap when you turn, staining your dress and threatening to burn your thighs. 

“Eat.”

It is as delicious as the meat he had allowed you to feast on the previous night. Strength floods your stomach, rich and filling. This is the most fortunate you’ve ever been when it comes to food; your family would throw scraps at you, watery oats and bones to gnaw on.

Warmth dancing inside, you’re much more comfortable now and ready to journey further, but you do not want to let him know just yet, lest he drags you onwards for another half-day. Slowly, you pick at the meat, pretending to savour it.

“Thank you, my Lord,” you mutter, barely above a whisper.

He grunts. Leaning against a tree himself, he watches you, lip curling slightly in something that might have been amusement or disdain. Your eyes dart downward, and you know what he sees—the dark mark upon your chest, a twisted design resembling his dragon shape, now burned into your skin. The heat beneath it intensifies under his stare, but neither of you speak of it.

Swallowing and carefully, you find the courage to ask, “To where do we venture, my Lord?”

“The nearest town to the north.”

That would be Agartha — a bustling place nestled within the heart of the northern mountains, a haven for traders and merchants. It is a place you have only heard whispers of in stories uttered of by those in your home who dared not venture beyond the village borders. It is said to welcome all manner of folk and creatures, so long as they have something of value to trade, but few have dared to travel its roads. 

It’s over a day’s travel, and the closer one gets to that part of the land, the more likely they are to encounter a cursed being, even if one avoids passage through the Dark Forest, skirting along the edge instead. 

“Why?”

His amber eyes cut through yours, and with disdain, he orders, “Finish your food, and do not question me anymore.”

“But why walk when you can fly?”

The question leaves your mouth before you could mull the thought further and the flex of his hand makes you gulp. You know not where the stupidity came from and you resent yourself for it. A moment passes, the leisurely flow of the river the only sound filling this gap between you. 

Assessing you with a cock of his head, you wonder what he’s thinking. Perhaps he’s regretting his choice of companion, or perhaps he’s considering whether you are better off as a meal. You hope it’s not the latter. Or either. You hope he likes you. 

Why, you cannot bear to ponder. 

“Because you cannot.”

His voice…

It’s softer than before. Not quite gentle — it is still very much rough, raspy, and deep in a way that rattles your bones — but there’s a vulnerability, a sincerity that leaves you reeling. The mark on your chest burns, and you grow breathless, shivers running up your spine and tingling in places you cannot linger on for too long. 

He grunts, his large hand clutching a pec. His eyes meet yours with disbelief. Something clicks inside again, that turn of a key, that slotting of a puzzle piece, which he seems to feel, too. But that can’t be. 

“You,” he hisses, and then he shakes his head. Inhaling deeply, you feel the forest rumble beneath you, shaking with the force with which he’s gripping the tree bark behind him. “If you are finished, get to your feet and walk before I drag you by your hair.”

He is already turning away, walking ahead with more force than before. You quickly wash your hands and mouth before you rush after him, afraid to be left alone as the afternoon falls. 

Hiking closer to him than before, you cannot help but eye his marked back. The black lines are pigmented and clean. They do not appear like the marks you’ve seen on other men in your village. No, they look to be a part of his body, just as any of his limbs are. 

You wonder how they feel under your fingers. 

Another hour or two passes in silence. You do not ask questions and he does not offer answers. This is a mere glimpse of how the rest of your time with him will pass, you gander. Though, it is unclear for long he will tolerate your existence. A man like him, or rather a creature like him, does not seem like the type to desire company, and yet here you are.

The temperature drops considerably. Goosebumps rise along your arms. A sharp crackle sparks in your chest.

You have unknowingly ventured somewhere odd. The branches are sparser, the grass is balding and dull, and fog is blanketing your feet. Somehow, the sky has darkened quickly, as if the clouds had thickened within seconds. You feel a chill prick your spine. 

“Stay close, rat,” the King of Curses snarls. 

When you approach him, he gives you a firm look and then jerks his chin. You press closer. In the distance, you can hear whistling —mocking and taunting. Your breaths get more and more shallow. You are being watched. 

Hesitantly, fearful you might set something off, you whisper, “Where are we?”

“We are on the brink between the edge of this forsaken forest and the land surrounding Agartha. There will be dangers around these parts. Do take care to not allow yourself to be ripped apart; you will stain my skin with your filthy blood,” he growls. 

You have only heard of tales from drunken men in taverns you’d pass by. Tales of hunched beasts ranging in height, some with the ability to tear into your flesh and kill you instantly and others with magic that lure you to your death. And though you’d like to know more about what exactly the King is sending along these parts, you are far from keen to learn first-hand. So, you follow the angry man’s lead. 

The recent turn of events has you reeling, but you are given little to no time to ponder anything. Indeed, you have no choice, just as you have never had a choice in life. 

More whistling. 

It has grown nearer. 

“Fuck,” the King growls. He flexes his arms, hands closing to fists as he marches ahead. You cannot tell how he feels, whether he is afraid, anxious, or enraged. Best not to find out. 

“If it isn’t the great King, out of his domain,” a woman’s voice sounds out.

It is melodic and enchanting. Bumps on your skin rise. There is something frightening in her tone. Too sure, too confident, too in control, you cannot breathe with the weight of her presence, though you see her not.

“And with a mortal girl, no less.”

The voice, bodiless, float around your head, lifting locks of your hair as if marveling at the tangible feel of your body. 

Squealing, you run to your companion’s side, holding his arm in spite of yourself. He glances down at your quivering form and rolls his eyes. “Spare me the theatrics, Kuchisake. We are merely passing. Answer me: Is Agartha still as it once was when I was awake?”

The voice chuckles and replies, “It has not changed. Time does not pass by in that corner of the kingdom.” 

He nods and moves to continue on his way before she speaks again, and the underlying threat in her voice stops him in his tracks. 

“I know what you seek. But Mother has made her intentions clear; you must see through the bonds that tie you down.”

A force knocks you back into a tree and away from him. The impact knocks the breath out of you but it does not hurt.

It is impossible to tell who pushed you, and you dare not dwell on it. They are having a stand-off, asserting power over each other, whilst you remain as mere collateral. That is how it has always been with these cursed beings, indeed with any who held power over you. 

“Mother has chosen to play a cruel joke, one in which I want no part. Not even she can stop me. So keep your advice to yourself, Nymph.”

She hums a melancholy tune, it is low and slow, a bastardisation of a sacred melody. She sings the wedding march.

Sukuna flicks his wrist and you’re lifted up, floating in the air until you land on your own feet next to him. Then he walks on, with you in tow, feeling red tendrils of smoke tied around your wrist, keeping you from running or being snatched away. It is as if he has collared you, his very own pet.

Still invisible to the human eye, she hums that tune all the way through the forest, even once you’ve left the border of those crooked trees, and only stops when a mountain in the distance comes into view. 

That is where you are headed. And deep inside, there is something the King of Curses wants desperately enough to stomach mockery from, who you can only guess to be, his sister. 

What lies ahead, you do not know. 

You have no choice but to trust him, and you hope that at the end of this cursed journey, you will make it out in one piece.

i keep seeing you talk abt blue lock and now I am watching it 🙂‍↕️ only on s1 ep 3 tho and this shit is INTERESTING ryosuke is kinda 🫦

waittttt is u talking abt kira??? 😭😭😭 on ep 3????

but yayyyyy join usssss 🌀 become one of us 🌀🌀 join blue lock 🌀🌀 and never leave 🌀

L.O.V.E

🎮 tomura shigaraki x fem!reader smau

a strangers/online friends to lovers university au

masterlist / going home with tomu / streamers, musicians & 2 adults

main menu;

level ten; going home with tomu

cw; sorta kinda angst? i mean it’ll probably make you a bit sad, soft tomu with drunk reader, light cursing, very long interaction between tomura and keigo, some explaining that hopefully covers any plot holes or confusions, final level of game one before we move on to game two, another long ass written part with no texts/ tweets, wc; 2.9k

ironic i’m posting the last chapter of the first part on his birthday, happy birthday tomura! 🩵🎂

“take me home tomu?” the tears are warm against your cheeks as you wait for him to answer you. tomu is knelt down in front of where you sit, his eyes hold an emotion neither of you want to think about, it’d hurt more if you did.

“yeah y/n, i’ll take you home.” he stands to his full height before bending down to help you. your feet stumble beneath you, and tomu has to steady you with his hands on your waist.

“can you walk?” his hands flex on your hips, his body tensing as your palms meet his torso.

“hmm, no.” you fall forward into him, arms moving up around his neck while your face lands on his chest and he sighs, contemplating for half a second, before he moves and picks you up.

“tomu!” you squeal as he holds you close to him, one arm under your knees and the other around you back. your arms wrap tighter around him as you nestle closer to his warmth.

he looks down at you, eyes widening in surprise when he finds you already looking at him. your eyes are soft, and he’s shocked when your hand moves to slide along his jaw and cup his cheek.

“you’re so pretty tomu.” your sentence is followed by a kiss on his jaw and his grip tightens around you. 

he whispers a thanks as your head falls to rest on his shoulder and he carries you to his car.

“let’s get you home.”

the drive is silent, you’re laid out in the passenger seat, body positioned to face tomura, one of his hoodies covering you. you’re so still he would almost think you were sleeping if it weren’t for the little mutters spilling from your lips.

“thank you tomu.” his gaze flicks to you for a second to find your eyes closed, a soft sigh leaves him, before he focuses back on the road.

it’s quiet again for nearly the rest of the drive, until he turns down your street.

“have i told you how pretty i think you are, tomu?” he looks at you as he comes to a stoplight, only to find your eyes on him and he blushes.

“uh, yeah you mentioned it earlier.” he continues to look at you while you stare at him before the light turns green and he starts driving again.

“well, it’s true so you’re welcome.” you smile and then giggle while letting your eyes flutter close. he’s pulling into your apartment complex a few minutes later, parking the car, he focuses on you again.

“okay y/n, we’re here. you gotta work with me, alright?” he waits for a response as he unbuckles the both of you, you don’t move or say anything.

“y/n?” again no response, merely the rise and fall of your chest and shoulders as you breathe softly.

“flow- y/n?” he catches himself, he’s not sure if you’re actually asleep or how drunk you really are. there’s a chance that you might remember it if he calls you by shigs’ name for you, then he’d really be fucked.

he doesn’t know why he doesn’t just tell you, there’s nothing wrong with you knowing. in fact, he thinks he might love the idea of you knowing. his anxiety gets the better of him and he begins to think you’d prefer him as shigs over him as tomu, or vice versa, so he supposes that may be the reasoning behind not wanting you to know.

he thinks about coming up with his own nickname for you as tomu, but you haven’t done much that would give him anything good, aside from spending the last few weeks working on the project in class and at the library. though there was the day the campus library had been closed and you suggested working in the park, that day painted you in a new light. he liked seeing you get distracted by the flowers and the sky, maybe he could call you ‘sunshine’ or ‘cloud’, you certainly talked about both of those a lot.

he sighs, gently shaking your shoulder, he tries to rouse from your sleep. all he gets in return is a deep groan, and you rolling over before snuggling deeper into the seat. he lets out his own groan before deciding to just carry you, getting out of the car, he rounds the front to your side and pulls open the passenger door, before lifting your body into his arms once again. he lets out one final sigh and begins the trek to your apartment.

“come on hawks please answer the fucking door.” tomura mutters beneath his breath, he has you held against his chest still, head on his shoulder, trying to balance your weight against his body long enough to knock on the door. eventually, he settles for just kicking the damn thing and praying to whatever god is out there that your brother is still awake despite it being 3:40am.

“it’s damn near four in the morning, who the fuck is- oh.” keigo’s voice comes to a halt as his gaze settles on tomura standing there with you in his arms. tomura nearly drops you as his body sags in relief.

“hey hawks.” and just like the first time he saw tomura with you, keigo forgot what was happening.

“tomura?” keigo whispered and tomura nodded.

“yeah, it’s me.” his grip on your body tightened as he straightened up again, looking down towards you as keigo followed his gaze.

“oh shit, yeah come in.” keigo moved out of the way, holding the door open, and allowing tomura to carry you in.

tomura, having been in your apartment a few times already, carried you down the hall to your room, where he waited by the door for keigo to open it. once opened, tomura carried you to your bed, where keigo moved the covers for him to lay you down.

“why was she with you?” keigo asks as he covers you with the blankets, he grabs a tissue from the nightstand and cleans your face with it, wiping away the leftover makeup and dried tears.

“it’s a long story.” tomu murmured softly as he leaned against your dresser. keigo merely sends him a questioning look and tomu sighs.

“she called me, or rather she called shigs.” he whispers in case you decide to wake up at the wrong time and catch his confession.

“wait, you. you’re shigs?” keigo whispers in disbelief and tomura groans lightly, pushing himself off your dresser, he walks to your door and nods his head towards the living room.

“i’ll explain it, but away from her.” tomu says, walking out of the room with keigo following him.

“so neither of you knew you shared a class together, nor that you played games with each other?” keigo’s voice was full of confusion, none of this made any sense to him.

“basically. neither of us recognized the other's voice, which makes sense because i use different tones in different situations and a modulator when streaming. and we’ve never seen each other’s face either, i guess it just kind of happened this way.” tomura shrugs and leans back against the couch, head tilting so his gaze lands on the ceiling.

“so how’d you find out?” keigo’s gaze is firmly locked on where tomura sits, he’s slowly starting to understand the confusion, but now he’s questioning why tomura knows but you don’t, and why tomura doesn’t want to tell you.

“dabi.” is all tomu says as he sits back up to look at keigo, he catches the way he flinches, body tensing momentarily before relaxing.

“shit my bad.” tomura says and keigo shakes his head.

“it’s whatever, he’s your friend.” keigo mumbles, tomura frowns.

“i was your friend too.” tomura says confidently before freezing at keigo’s glare.

“yeah and you left with him. all of you except rumi. my sister tried to kill herself, my mom died, my boyfriend broke my heart, and i lost all my friends in the span of a few months. i needed you guys and you left. so fucking excuse me if i’m a bit cautious with you being around my sister.” keigo practically growls out and tomura’s entire body shivers at the intensity in his voice.

“i’m sorry.” tomura’s voice easily shifts into the quiet tone he uses when uncomfortable.

“yeah, whatever. so dabi told you about her then?” keigo questions.

“more or less, we had a smoke sesh after he picked up shoto. we were talking on the roof and he mentioned seeing you and finding out that y/n’s the sister you never introduced him to. and he said how she connected the dots that he’s my, or actually shigs, as she would know me, roommate. then he told me he got her twitter so he showed it to me, and that’s when i saw her face and told him that she’s also my project partner.” tomura explained while keigo nodded.

“okay, it’s slowly making sense. but she doesn’t know you’re you?” keigo’s back to being confused.

“no, she has no idea that i’m both her gaming buddy and project partner.” tomura agrees.

“then how did she end up with you as tomu if she called you as shigs. holy fuck this is hurting my brain.” keigo groans, tomura chuckles lightly.

“after the smoke sesh, both dabi and i went for a drive, separately. i subconsciously wound up parked across the street from the club, dabi also told me about that, and i was just sitting there when i saw her exit the building and lean against the wall.” tomu sighed deeply again as he began explaining what happened.

“where were her friends?” keigo asked, confused, rumi had never called him to pick them up so he assumed they just got an uber back to her and fuyumi’s place.

“spinner picked up toga and ochako, i’m pretty sure he brought them back here. i don’t know how kenzie got home, i assume dabi picked her up. who else was she with?” tomura looked keigo who sighed.

“i don’t think dabi picked up kenzie, he was at our- the abandoned park, i saw him. he tried talking to me but i left. rumi should’ve also been with her.” keigo looked at the ground, elbows on his knees as his head rested in his hands.

“oh.” tomura is quiet for a second, “i thought i saw fuyumi’s car there. i forgot that dabi said she was dating rumi, he doesn’t bring it up much. but if they’re living together that would explain why they could only have his mom stay with them.” he finished.

“wait, what happened with his mom? i was wondering why he had shoto with him?” keigo said.

“enji.” that’s all tomura needed to say in order for keigo to understand.

“oh. so rumi probably called fuyumi to pick her and y/n up, but lost sight of her when she went outside.” keigo reasons.

“probably. anyway, i watched, not like that don’t give me that fuck ass look bird brain.” tomura rolls his eyes, keigo snickers.

“she pulled her phone out and i thought she was going to call you, but she called shigs instead. i talked to her while sitting in my car. she said some stuff i don’t feel comfortable sharing with you.” he takes a deep breath when keigo interrupts him.

“she confessed, didn’t she?” keigo sighs at the way tomura’s body tenses. “figures that she would while drunk, that’s when she’s the most honest.”

“yeah.” tomura sighs. 

“anyway, she says something about calling you to come get her, but i was already making my way towards her. so i ended the call as shigs, and then knelt in front of her as tomura and she asked me to take her home, now here we are.” he shrugs again at the end of his explanation, both of them sighing as silence fills the space around them.

“that explains why she’s with you, but why don’t you want her to know?” keigo’s question makes tomura pause, that’s the question tomura has been asking himself all night.

why doesn’t he want her to know?

“i don’t know.” and he truly didn’t, there wasn’t a single good reason he could think of, except his anxiety fucking with him.

“i’m just scared, i guess.” tomura sighs again, it seems like all he can do is fucking sigh.

“of what?” keigo genuinely wants to know, they might not be friends anymore, but at one point he cared for tomura. and he cares about his sister more than enough to try and help her be happy.

“i’m scared of her preferring one version of me over the other, i guess.”

“do you honestly think she’s like that? does she treat you any differently in your two personas?” again keigo’s question makes tomura pause.

“no, she treats me pretty much the same. except, her tone of voice is different. with shigs, she’s relaxed, comfortable. i can hear the love in her voice, she acts like i make her feel at home. with tomu, she’s still realxed and comfortable. she sounds like i make her feel safe, but there’s also something in her tone that makes me think she’s developing feelings for me as tomu.” there’s a look on keigo’s face that tomura can’t tell if he likes or not.

“what, what’s with the look hawks?” tomura sits up straighter now.

“she told me about two weeks ago that she’s developing feelings for you as tomu and it’s really messing with her head because of her feelings for you as shigs.” keigo explains.

“what?” it’s tomura’s turn to be confused, you guys have been working on the project for about a month now. there’s another month before it’s due, and you’re almost finished with it. another week of working together and it’d be done.

“yeah man, she likes both shigs and tomura. you should just tell her.” keigo smirks.

“yeah, i’ll tell her when you tell touya.” tomura snarks back sarcastically.

“even if i wanted to, i can’t. he’s with kenzie now, remember?” keigo sneers and tomrua rolls his eyes.

“you act as if neither of you are polyamorous. don’t you remember that one time in high school you both got so drunk and confessed that if i was into dudes at all we’d be a throuple.” tomura smirks as keigo huffs.

“shut the fuck up, i’m supposed to be pissed at you. and besides, you’re fucking pansexual so suck my dick.” keigo’s eyes roll so hard tomura is worried they’d get stuck.

“nah, i’m good. thanks though.” tomura laughs. this was nice, hanging out with his old friend.

“that still doesn’t explain why you won’t tell her.” keigo redirects the conversation back to before.

“i’m just not ready to. my grandma just died a week ago and her funeral was today, i just don’t think i’m ready for y/n to know the truth.” tomura sighs.

“shit, nana passed? i’m sorry to hear that tenko.” keigo’s voice is gentle, he knows that name could set him off but he wants him to know he truly means it when he gives his condolences.

“thanks keigo.” tomura means it sincerely when he speaks keigo’s real name for the first time that night.

“listen, i won’t say anything to my sister until you’re ready, but just don’t go breaking her heart, okay?” keigo sighs and then stands as he looks at the clock on the wall, 4:50am.

“yeah about that, i think i already did.” tomura mumbles, keigo simply sighs deeply as if he already knew.

“one last question, who all knows besides me that you’re shigs and tomrua?” keigo looks at tomura who still sits on the couch.

“dabi knows, ochako and himiko know, kenz knows i’m shigs but not that i’m tomu, and i’m assuming that dabi will probably tell shoto in case he wants y/n to baby sit again. oh, and she doesn’t know that we were friends in high school.” tomura explains and keigo hums.

“okay well, you can crash here for a couple hours if you want, i gotta be at work at seven so i’m just going to start getting ready now.” keigo stretches as he speaks.

“thanks, but i should probably get home. if you saw dabi at your place then he’s probably going through it and somebody should be there if shoto wakes up.” tomura stands, stretching his arms with a sigh.

“yeah, true. i hope he’s adjusting to living with you guys. if you need anything, you can always ask. i have a feeling we’re going to be in each other’s lives a lot more again.” keigo leads the way to the door.

“yeah, thanks again keigs.” tomura follows behind him.

“anytime tenko, anytime.” keigo opens the door for him to walk out.

“she’s going to be alone when you go to work right?” tomura suddenly asks, keigo nods.

“you mind if i come back over with shoto later? as tomu of course.” he meets keigo’s eyes.

“nah, i think she’d like that. she already loves shoto and he’d help keep her busy.” keigo smiles.

“alright, cool. i’ll be back in a few hours then.” tomura smiles as he steps into the hall.

“sounds good man.” keigo nods and tomura waves as he walks away to the elevator.

“fuck little sis, what have you gotten us into?” keigo sighs as he closes the door.

level ten; going home with tomu completed!

one achievement unlocked; game one finished!

tag list; [open]

@nkox, @dumbassbrigade, @va-3, @kodditty, @personally4runa

mutual tags; @shigarakislaughter, @chaoslibra, @sexylexy12

samm1e13 tumblr 2025 ©️ don’t use, copy, steal or translate my works for any reason.

when ur mutuals are mutual with each other 

pro: squad con: i saw this post like 18 times today

hiii twinnn just gonna drop this here 💌💌 teehee <3

twiiiinnn haiii hehe <3

ok so where to start?? 🤔 i LOVE how you’re so easy to talk to, you fr let me yap on and on about everything on my mind (usually touya bc when isn’t it) and i love how fast we’ve bonded even tho we’ve only been mutuals for like two weeks? i think? and you’re so funny and feral, all your reblog tags make me giggle and kick my feet, fr got me blushing every time i read them

i told my fiancé abt you and she loves you (she said she’s glad i’m making friends tehe)

and your writing with bassist!touya lives rent free in my mind and i love have a vip pass to the fic <<33

treating this like twitter for a second

@chaoslibra and @shigarakislaughter

u guys not telling me blue lock was abt soccer is criminal😤😤 (at least i don’t think kenzie told me it was abt soccer was she was recommending it to me)

i would’ve watched it way sooner (i grew up playing soccer)

reo baby my love are u okay?

ᝰ.ᐟ street racer!Isagi headcanons

.ᐟcw: street racer!isagi, explicit, nsfw, drugs, mdni

"𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑎 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒" - 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑦 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑌𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇𝐷𝑂𝑂𝑅

ᯓ★ᯓ⚡︎

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Competitive to the core. He’s not here to just participate; he’s here to win. And if you challenge him? Be prepared for him to go all out.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Off the track, he’s surprisingly sweet, but don’t mistake that for softness. He’ll talk shit with the best of them when he’s behind the wheel.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Aggressive but calculated. Isagi doesn’t waste movement—every turn, every drift, every nitrous boost is intentional.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Drives a sleek, midnight blue Nissan GT-R R35—a mix of speed, power, and control.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Protective, but in a way that fuels his drive. If you’re watching him race? He’s winning for you.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Will tease you mercilessly when you try to act tough. “You talk big, but you’re gripping the seat pretty tight, doll.”

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ The type to memorize every street, every turn, every shortcut—so he can use them when it counts.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟIf he gets behind? Don’t count him out. He’s studying every weakness in his opponent’s driving and will find the perfect moment to strike.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Treats his car like a teammate, constantly fine-tuning it for peak performance.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ You’ll always catch him under the hood, tweaking something, making sure everything is perfect.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Gets pissed when people lean on it without permission. “Hands off. You don’t touch someone’s car unless you wanna race for it.”

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ After a win, he always pulls you close, hand gripping your chin before pressing his forehead against yours. “Told you I’d take first. Now, what’s my reward?”

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ If you ask to drive? He hesitates—hard. But if he lets you? He’s watching closely, one hand on your thigh, guiding you through the gears.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ His love language? Teasing. He’ll pretend to ignore you while he’s working on his car—until you climb onto the hood just to get his attention. or when he's actually trying to focus, torso hidden under the car and you climb onto his lap, giggling at the tiny grunts and groans of his as you rub up against him.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ get's sooo so jealous, if he even sees a guy anywhere near you, he won't say anything but will walk up to you, throwing as arm around your shoulder, making unnecessary 'inappropriate' jokes, slapping your ass, what not, just to show the guy you're his.

"baby, who's this? oh a friend? that's cute, tell this 'friend' you're thrasher's property, okay?"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ If you get mad at him? He’ll throw you in the passenger seat and race until your frustration melts into adrenaline. and if you're still mad, he'll help you relax by shoving his cock deep inside your cunt while he rides, so you can squirm around on it as you warm his cock.

"shh, relax, if you wanna cum, you have behave for the rest of the ride, or no cock and no cumming"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Lowkey loves when you get bratty, but there’s a limit. If you push too far? He’ll find creative ways to make you behave. “You wanted my attention, didn’t you? Now you’ve got all of it.” he would say while having you ride his fingers.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Smokes only when he’s pissed off. You’ll catch him leaning against his car, cigarette dangling from his lips, eyes dark with frustration. If he's really mad, he'll bend you over his hood and take it out on you even if you didn't do anything :(

"you take cock so fuckin' well, this little pussy was made for me. made to be ruined by me"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ After a big win, he’ll fuck you in the driver’s seat, windows fogged up, sweat slicking his skin. (he loves car sex) "Wanna sit pretty and let me ruin you, doll?"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ loves when you go out with him to a party, and he can do drugs with you. of course he's more strict with you and has more rules set out. and if you're willing, he'll do body shots with you, placing the shot glass in the most intimate placing, not caring who sees.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ he smokes weed after a long day of racing and tuning cars.

"c'mere, doll. wanna help? sit on my lap here"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ does everything to see you in lingerie, especially the sheer and see-through ones. will make you get on your knees and knead your tits and abuse your poor little nipples while he gets off on the sight, nutting all over your face and body.

"fuck, yeah that's it, keep playing with your tits, do it like how i taught you, that's right, good girl"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Isn't a huge fan of overall drugs, other than some relaxants after a race or before a race. he prefers the feeling of euphoria over the feeling of wanna party. that's why he has pills lying around his house, which he'll take from time to time. and if you decide to take it, he'll definitely take care of you, letting you cock warm him as your body falls limp.

"mm, baby your pussy is so warm."

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ looks who hot when he does weed, eyes just red and narrow, while he watches you.

"you look so pretty like this, doll. want more of you"

Taglist: @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @syleepy @samthesimp1 @werfiedeii @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cyberheartrebel @vaelils @narcjsistx @arisaturn

A/n: not edited. this also got so much longer than needed.

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

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The Black Sun Swallows Whole

shigaraki x reader, scifi au

Consumed by grief after the death of your parents, you throw yourself into researching their killers, a company called The Abyssal Factory lead by All For One, who claim to be for the betterment of society. When you're given the opportunity to fight back against their corruption, you jump at the chance. However, as you get more entangled with your fight against unchecked power, you find that everything is not as it seemed, especially when it comes to the heir to the company, Tomura Shigaraki.

Chapter 1: Vita coming 4.4