I’m Not Going To Say It Again: #i Wish Endeavor Dies Deserves To Win First Place.

mutuals i am politely asking you what color i remind you of

ᝰ.ᐟstreet racer!shidou hcs

.ᐟcw: smut mdni, explicit content, drug consumption, weed, alcohol, blood

"𝐷𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑘, 𝐼𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒" - 𝐹𝑀$ 𝑏𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑧

ᯓ★ᯓ⚡︎

street racer!shidou.ᐟShows up to underground afterparties already halfway gone—shirt loose, lip bleeding from a crash, and still downing shots like water.

street racer!shidou.ᐟdoesn’t race to win—he races to destroy. he's not called mad dog for no reason.

street racer!shidou.ᐟ he gets in fights soo often, you've lost track of how many times he's punched people for the most insignificant things. oh and don't even get me started on how he comes up behind guys when they're being rude to you or flirting with you. he'll tell you to leave and wait by his car and once he comes back, he would say they just talked but his busted up bleeding knuckles say otherwise

street racer!shidou.ᐟHe loves pushing people off their lines, brushing bumpers, sending sparks flying.

street racer!shidou.ᐟHe laughs when he's about to crash and grins when the engine starts smoking.

street racer!shidou.ᐟDownshifts like he’s pulling a trigger. His car sounds angry—just like him.

street racer!shidou.ᐟLives in the moment. Doesn’t think long-term, which makes him dangerous.

street racer!shidou.ᐟRough hands, even rougher kisses. Loves bruising your lips with how hard he kisses. speaking of rough hands, he knows you stare at his hands a little more than necessary, especially when he's working on a car. his large hands covered in oil, cuts and marks. he'll smirk and pull you onto his lap, wrapping them around you thighs,

"if you're gn'a stare, at least make it less obvious, princess"

street racer!shidou.ᐟAlways has an arm slung around your neck or waist, whispering shit in your ear in public just to see you squirm.

"you see my car over there, yeah? you'd look so good laying flat on it while you take my cock. just imagine everyone watching you getting absolutely fucking ruined"

street racer!shidou.ᐟLowkey likes when you brat. He sees it as a challenge—and he never backs down from those.

"you look so cute acting up, you'll look even cuter when you're begging me to let you cum tonight"

street racer!shidou.ᐟlives for the public. whether it be showing off his skills or fucking you where everyone can see, he'd cover your face if you're embarrassed but if he's feeling feisty, he'll even fuck you against his enemies' cars

street racer!shidou.ᐟDrinks tequila straight from the bottle. No lime. No salt. Just raw burn, like him.

street racer!shidou.ᐟPops pills and grins like the devil himself. Ecstasy makes him too touchy, too turned on, too chaotic to control. "don't tell me to relax, princess, the fun 's only getting started" he'd say before throwing back another pill

street racer!shidou.ᐟSometimes he’s so high, he’ll drag you into his car and fuck you on the hood, motor still hot, bass still thumping. even if you beg him to take you somewhere private, he'll just grin and tease you.

"don't be shy, everyone here already knows you're mine, so why fight it?"

street racer!shidou.ᐟ when he drinks too much or is way too intoxicated, he'll pull you onto his lap, will kiss you sloppy and messy like he’s starving. Pants halfway down, voice breathy against your neck:

“Let’s make this night hurt, yeah?”

street racer!shidou.ᐟHas a thing for mirrors—wants you bent over in front of one, so he can see everything. he'll force you to watch yourself, especially when he's slipping his cock inside, he would definetly be the type of person to make you watch yourself when you ride his cock.

"hey! hey, eyes on the mirror, keep em open, that's right, good girl"

street racer!shidou.ᐟWill eat you out while high, moaning against you like he’s getting off on your taste. Might even talk dirty to your pussy like it’s a person. PLUS he has a pierced tongue, so imagine him fucking you with it, the little metal ball coming in contact with your sensitive pussy, knowing you're close to coming for the nth time as you twitch and throb under him.

"she's so pretty, fuck, taste's so damn good"

street racer!shidou.ᐟIf he’s drunk enough, he’ll put you in his lap in the club booth, hand between your thighs under your dress, no shame, no mercy.

“You’re dripping. Just from me looking at you. That’s kinda slutty, babe.”

street racer!shidou.ᐟRoadhead while high? Absolutely. But he'll slam the brakes mid-blowjob just to hear you gasp and clutch the seat. he'll laugh when you choke around his fat cock, tears streaming down your face. he'll coo you only to shove your head deeper.

"aww, too big? you're doing great princess, keep going, you're mouth is so nice and warm"

street racer!shidou.ᐟ Likes when you ride him wearing nothing but his racing jacket and heels. and maybe sometimes some cute lacy panties. he'll put your legs on his shoulders nearly folding you in half as he thrusts inside of you, knowing damn well his cock is kissing your cervix.

"ahh- princess you're sucking me in, are you that needy for cock?"

street racer!shidou.ᐟ If you guys have sex in the back of his car, or in the drivers seat, he would purposely leave the windows rolled down for anyone passing by to see who you belong to.

“One more round. Just one more. Can’t stop thinking about how tight you were. Don’t tap out yet, princess.”

street racer!shidou.ᐟ He pours champagne on your chest, licks it off like a damn savage.

street racer!shidou.ᐟ Smokes a cigarette post-sex with his head thrown back, marks and scratches all over him like war wounds. And then says:

“You’ll be the death of me, baby. Hope you’re ready to take the fall.”

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

A/n: he's such a fucking freak, i want him. This came out a bit later than needed, all of my prewritten drafts were posted, so i had to write in bulk yesterday and got too lazy to post. For the person that requested a shidou fic

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

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Am I getting a good grade in tumblr mutual?

mutuals if i was a cat and i meowed at u, would u meow back at me? be honest

💌💌 tehehe i’m supposed to be working on the next l.o.v.e part but instead i’m catching up on the tl

haiii twinnn^^

i love how easy it is to talk to you about all kinds of different stuff and how we’re on the same page abt everything!!! i love how fun you are and how your brain works, especially whenever we yap about mha or epic or both hehe!!! also loveee ur writing, you have such a nice writing style in your written works (even tho i’m still scared of angst from u) and ur smau snippets so far were sooo funny!!!

New REBLOG Game

Just fucking lie about the previous poster

L.O.V.E Masterlist

🎮 tomura shigaraki x fem!reader smau

a strangers/online friends to lovers university au

photo credits; pinterest and my moot kenzie

college is hard, gaming is fun, but when you get partnered with tomura, the quiet boy in your graphic design class, for a project you find that not ever thing is as it seems. but don’t worry, your secret crush and online gamer buddy, shigaraki, is always willing to listen to you yap about your day. it becomes a problem when you start to develop feelings for tomura. you’ve started a new game, one called L.O.V.E, can you beat it?

L - learn the rules

O - own your skills

V - view your stats

E - enter next stage

game start up;

the gremlins (y/n’s group)

the streamers (tomura’s group) {credits to kisa for tomura’s username}

game one main menu; (written chapters marked with 🎮)

level one; graphic design 🎮

level two; you know toga? 🎮

level three; a day with tomu 🎮

level four; your voice is my safe space 🎮

level five; new character unlocked

level six; chance meetings 🎮

level seven; cold soba

level eight; party animals

level nine; drink away the pain 🎮

level ten; going home with tomu 🎮

game two main menu;

level eleven; dr. tomu and nurse shoto

checkpoint;

#1; nighttime call w shigs 🎮

#2; touya's staring problem 🎮

#3; keigo lore 🎮

#4; streamers, musicians & 2 adults

the title is taken from undertale (the opening scene with flowey) but the letters stand for something different with this smau.

checkpoints are behind the scenes, they’re not completely part of the canon plot, just little looks into their lives.

disclaimer; i use my old phone for the twitter profiles and my current one for the smaus so the emojis will look different. and each chapter will contain its own warnings.

taglist; [open]

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

mutual tags; @shigarakislaughter, @chaoslibra, @sexylexy12 , @seijuroww

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

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.

reblog to headpat the one you reblogued from!!

oooo this is co cutesy

robin (richard grayson) calling me home after seeing all the other people i’m starting to crush on

no pressure tags; @lsunncy @seijuroww

you are going on a blind date that pinterest set up for you, find out who will be the lucky one and how the evening will end 💌

on pinterest search the following topics and post the first pin that will show up in each category

fictional character

date / night date

gift

outfit

dessert

love quote

tags: @catchmeonyourceiling @lovethornes @daystarpoet @beaucereza @chxrrybxmbi @dolcecuore @sororygilmore @auntiejohn @binibby @bvrnesher @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @certaimromance @effortlesslysweet @aezuria @mothswan @lydiasfalling @amrplastique @peanutalergy @xoxorory @xoxoivy13 @laufeysvalentine @minorlyatfault @jjsblueberry and whoever wants to join <3