──♡⋆.ೃ࿔*─ ꒰ Cherry ❀ 20꒱
where the petals fall, you’re welcome writing + digi-diary + selfship /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ about me 。⋆ masterlist + rules 。⋆
Monterey Bay Aquarium
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will byers stan first human second

Andulka
Cosmic Funnies

Love Begins
AnasAbdin
we're not kids anymore.

titsay
Stranger Things
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Today's Document

Kaledo Art
Claire Keane
almost home
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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@cherriteaa
──♡⋆.ೃ࿔*─ ꒰ Cherry ❀ 20꒱
where the petals fall, you’re welcome writing + digi-diary + selfship /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ about me 。⋆ masterlist + rules 。⋆

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I can’t believe you knew it was me 😔
i know my kittens by heart
Here you will find a list of all the works I have posted on this account! If you are looking for some of my older and other works, please visit @cinzuku
°⋆♡︎.ೃ࿔:・Grab your favorite treats and relax!°⋆♡︎.ೃ࿔:・
Tokyo Revengers
♡ Draken x Reader (Bf Hc's) ♡ Chifuyu x Reader (Bf Hc's) ♡ Baji x Reader (Bf Hc's) ♡ Kazutora x Reader (Bf Hc’s) ♡ Mikey x Reader (Bf Hc's) ♡ Mitsuya x reader (Bf Hc's)
♡ WIP
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Gachiakuta
♡ Enjin sleep drabble
Haikyuu
♡ Celebrating Christmas with Kenma!
Redoing my theme for the 1019288335th time
— “do i really need to be shirtless for this?” hajime asks gruffly, sitting neatly on your dorm floor as you write on a piece of tape, godzilla t-shirt tossed unceremoniously on your bed.
your anatomy exam is coming up, and you’ve been studying like your career depends on it (spoiler alert: it does), but you’ve been going batshit crazy just staring at your notes. so what better way to get off the books than to hang out with your boyfriend?
“yes,” you reply, placing ‘pectoralis major’ on his chest. “it wouldn’t work the same if you had a shirt on. active recall, visual learning, and such.” “right,” he mutters, brow furrowed as he watches you. “so…?” “so, flex your deltoid,” you demand. “c’mon, haji. this is important.” he flexes his shoulder obediently, looking away as you stick another label on his body.
you’re kind of surprised hajime agreed to this in the first place; though honestly, you really didn’t give him much of an explanation, simply texting him, “come to my dorm @ 10pm,” with no further instructions. you laughed when he called at 9:42 saying he was at the building, having to hold it in as you led your bright-eyed boyfriend into your room.
“you will be to blame if i don’t pass this,” you tell him, revelling in the slight twitch of his body as you slide a finger over his skin to pat down the adhesive. “right. can’t have that,” he says under his breath. you snicker. despite his reluctance, he’s not angry. maybe just disappointed. you’re not worried, though. he’d get what he came for soon enough.
sneaking a glance at him, you quickly scribble ‘teres minor’ on another scrap of tape. hajime’s ears are bright red, but his bottom lip is pursed up and his jaw is tight. tell-tale signs of his enjoyment.
“i know you’re a little embarrassed, but i need you to lift your arm up for me,” you tell him sweetly, tape hanging from your fingertips. hajime lets out a flustered grumble in reply, dim light highlighting hard planes of muscle as he accedes.
“it’s kind of itchy,” he says, after a moment. “well, it’s tape,” you answer matter-of-factly, pasting ‘frontalis’ on his forehead, then look at him doubtfully. “also, you need to stop scowling. you look cute when you’re not scowling.” “‘m not scowling,” hajime says under his breath, but his eyebrows relax immediately. you bite the inside of your cheek. cute.
another couple minutes pass by as you continue to stick labels on him, humming a tune while you treat your poor boyfriend like a whiteboard.
“...how long will this take?” hajime asks, stiffly, two pieces of tape hanging off the hollows of his cheekbones. you stretch out, making a big show of checking the clock on the wall. it’s almost midnight. “i’m basically done,” you reply. “i’m not going over the accessory muscles.”
hajime tilts his head, narrowing his eyes knowingly at you. “yeah, just wanna know, so i’m not peeling gemellus inferior out of my butt tomorrow,” he remarks wryly. you mirror his expression, enthused. “hah. i forgot you know this already.”
hajime pinches your inner thigh playfully. it doesn’t hurt—he could never hurt you—but you yelp anyway, more tickled than anything. “hey, i’m pretty smart, you know,” he reminds you, smoothing over the subtle sting with a callused thumb.
you scoot over towards him, running your hand down the label reading ‘rectus femoris.’ “i know you’re pretty smart,” you say, gaze locked on his, “otherwise i wouldn’t allow you to be sitting shirtless on my floor.” you pull, and the screech of tape being taken off skin is the only sound in the room for a second.
the sudden dilation of his pupils makes you laugh through your nose. “oh, that’s all,” hajime says lightly, body hot under your touch. “because i’m smart.” “and muscular,” you add, leaning over him as he sits back on his forearms, watching you intently. “mm, that’s part of it?” he asks, voice just breathless enough to make your stomach tighten.
“yeah,” you murmur, hooking a fingernail under ‘external oblique.’ your eyes drop to his bare chest, then drag back up to his face as you smile. “do you take a makeout session as gratuity for your model work?”
hajime swallows, his jaw fluttering. a blush blooms over his cheeks and he rolls his eyes. “that’s what i thought you called me here for,” he mumbles, warm hand coming up to rest on the curve of your lower back as you giggle. “c’mere.”
he peppers your face with soft kisses, leaving wet marks. your laughter fills the small room when you feel something sticky on your cheek.
“haji, i can’t take you serious with that stuff on your face!” “take it off, then!”
hello. folks. birfday post 4 me and him cuz we junebugs like dat
Hola mama I missed you
IS THIS ADORA

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Iwaizumi’s nose is bleeding, his hands bruising an angry shade of red.
He doesn’t remember what happened, not really at least.
One second, the bar was loud and lively, overcrowded and sticky with spilled drinks.
The next, he’d heard an all too aggressive, “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”
The rest is a blur.
He vaguely remembers Makki yanking him off some poor bloody heap on the floor.
Oikawa shouting something that sounded both panicked and furious as he dragged him toward the exit.
Matsukawa laughing in that disbelieving, holy shit, kind of way while ushering you out of the room before you could see the worst of it.
And before his brain can really catch up, the feeling of the brisk night air hitting his face hard enough to make him realize his nose was bleeding.
Now you’re all halfway down the block, the neon lights and lively noise of the bar fading far behind you.
Everyone’s breathing hard from the sudden get away, adrenaline still buzzing thick in the air.
But all Iwa can focus on is the sting in knuckles and the terrified look on your face.
“Are you okay?” you ask immediately, voice a little shaky and a whole lot worried.
He’s weirdly calm right now, too calm. Like all the anger fizzled out the second the cold air hit his face.
All he feels now is the heaviness settled deep in his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” he suddenly blurts, shame quickly creeping in.
You stare at him like he’s lost his goddamn mind.
Behind him, Makki lets out a confused, “Huh?” while Matsukawa starts cackling again.
Even Oikawa pauses mid-rant, eyes squinting hard.
“What the hell do you mean you’re sorry?” you spit out incredulously.
He swallows hard, unable to meet your eyes for a second, “That was stupid,” he mutters, flexing his aching hand with a wince, “I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that”
For a moment, nobody says anything.
Then Matsukawa snorts, loud and obnoxious, “Dude.”
You roll your eyes, gently grabbing his battered hands and inspecting the damage, “Shut the hell up, you didn’t embarrass me you idiot”, you mutter, ears burning now.
“Well I, for one,” Oikawa says dramatically, throwing an arm around Iwa’s shoulders, “am pissed we had to leave, so you’re buying a bottle and we’re going back to yours”
Makki snickers, elbowing the drama queen in the ribs, “Iwa just beat the shit out of some guy for his girl and that’s what you’re worried about?”
And if your face was pink before, it’s burning now.
Heat crawls all the way up your neck as the words replay in your head on loop.
His girl.
And maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fact that he didn’t even deny it, but your stomach flips hard.
When you finally glance at him, you find that he’s already staring at you, cheeks pink too.
You huff out a quiet little laugh before reaching up and pulling his face down just enough to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “Thank you for protecting me, my hero” you tease.
His entire face burns red instantly, and suddenly the sting of his knuckles is the last thing on his mind.
“Shut up” he mutters, despite the little smile pulling at his lips.
“Okay!”, Oikawa announces loudly, clapping his hands together, “Konbini time. We need a first aid kit and a case of soju.”
Still laughing and shoving at Iwa while he grumbles for everyone to shut up, the five of you start down the street toward the convenience store, the tension from earlier replaced with something warm and easy.
———————————————————————-
A/N: i’m done writing for iwa now (im lying)
⟶ denki kaminari x g.n!reader
cws / tags ∿ weed mentioned, smth suggestive, kms joke, katsuki mentioned n he’s just him. denki ‘n reader are brainrot gods. established relationship.
a/n: do yall fw me adding a few ss of twt into these short smaus.. lmk 👀 denki can we honestly edate?
© qkkotsu
Me and more each day I’m getting convinced to write / make smaus like actually
I think my decline happens when I stray too far from my tumblr acc
tattoo artist! iwaizumi hajime x nail artist! reader
oh no! you own the nail salon next to iwaizumi's tattoo shop. what do we do? him!
my masterlist
warnings // reader is female im so sorry it just flowed out of me, swearing, mentions of drunk men, smoking, kys jokes, a gun, mentioned AI once but u need to understand i will never use it
Wait im so hungry for this im starved for this actually
Mama
HELLO??

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miss pretty
{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}
summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.
warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.
word count: 11.4k
authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333
katsuki bakugo hated messes.
“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”
“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.
“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”
“mhm!” he chirped.
“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”
“yup yup!”
and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.
that was of course, until he met you.
In back rereading this fic again it’s so addictive
Osamu starts calling you sweetheart well before the two of you get together. The endearment is never patronizing, sometimes teasing, and always affectionate.
It’s “Sweetheart, ‘m so glad yer here!” when you stop by Onigiri Miya, spoken like just the sight of you crossing the threshold is enough to ease the tension in his shoulders and soften the furrow of his brow.
It’s “You alright, sweetheart?” when you’ve had one too many drinks on a night out. You’re wobbly on your feet, a little doe-eyed as your hand rests in the crook of his elbow to steady yourself. It’s so cute Osamu can’t help but flush, the heat creeping up to the very tips of his ears.
It's "C'mon, sweetheart, ya know 'm right!" when the twins put you in the middle of another one of their arguments, Osamu cajoling you into see things his way.
And when he finally decides to confess, to cross that line from friends into something more, the endearment is as smooth as butter, dripping with years of love gone unspoken. “I wanna be yours, sweetheart.”
osamu has gotten soft around the edges.
his arms are bigger now, full from all of the food he’s been “test” eating for the restaurant. carrying sacks of rice all day keeps them toned, but now you can pinch his skin when you want his attention and bury your head in the crook of his arm comfortably when you're cuddling. his hugs are all the more warmer, too. the extra fat makes him your personal heater when it’s too cold at night and neither of you want to get up to turn the ac off. his stomach is more pudgy, enough that he’s softer to lay on, but you can still run your hand over the now slightly less defined ripples of his abs.
and he’s also gotten softer for you, or at least atsumu strongly thinks so whenever osamu visits home. “you've gotten soft, 'samu. you’re always gushing over your girlfriend!” he'd say, ruffling his twin's hair as he's got him in a headlock. osamu can't bring himself to deny it. if it means loving you better, what does a little extra skin do to him?
He made me bagels and a chocolate muffin
Fortnite?
YES IF UR FINE WITH IT BEING LATE
HAI HAI!!
MY ACCOUNT IS FINALLY WORKING AGAIN! ^-^
HIIII MY GOAT

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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cw; gender neutral! reader, sfw with a sprinkle of winkwink, basically just a smooch from qiuyuan aha
For a man without eyesight, QIUYUAN can do a lot of things.
He can pierce the hearts of his enemies with ease, cook meals without batting a lid, discern both familiar and unfamiliar surroundings in an instant, read your emotions better than any man with two working eyes could ever hope to — you get the gist of it. He fares just like any other person.
You wouldn’t have known he was blind, really, not unless you looked close. Not unless curiosity got the better of you and you finally asked about his eyes — those elusive, cloudy things that never seemed to look directly at you, no matter how hard you tried to catch them.
(“What? You’re telling me you’ve been blind this whole time?”
He does not reply.
You were about to ask how a man who cannot see could cultivate such precise swordsmanship, until you remember something from a distant past.
“But you mentioned I had a fair face during our first meeting.”
He does not elaborate.
“... You have no sight and now you can’t speak?”
He does not make an excuse.)
And in that manner, you truly think it is strange.
For all his practiced, almost perfect ways of adapting to a life of a blind man, for all the subtle precision of his movements and the effortless grace that makes everyone else look clumsy — Qiuyuan always, always, seems to forget where your lips are each time he leans in to humor you with a kiss.
You like to think you know enough that you are not oblivious. In fact, you are well aware of how his forte functions in relation to his surroundings, having been… loved a lot… by him, yet this does not placate your confusion.
Qiuyuan is sharp and concise in everything he does. He never wastes time. He never rushes either. Every movement of his is deliberate, efficient. Most details are trivial to him; he only cares about the things that matter to wandering swordsmen — sharpening their blades, bathing in rivers, mending their coats by the firelight. He may notice everything, even the things in between, yet very rarely does he make them his business.
(Thinking about it, you recall the time he mentioned he liked the frequencies of your bold personality, that or it was the smell of your virtues. What did he mean by this?)
All in all, why would kissing you be any different?
If anything, he seems to take his time with it — tracing the ridge of your eyebrows, brushing the faint frown between them, mapping the moles scattered across your cheeks and neck as if they were constellations he needed to memorize. His fingers trail the bridge of your nose, linger at your lashes, circle your cheekbones in slow, unhurried motion, before resting the pad of his thumb on your bottom lip.
Your entire being feels like it’s on fire.
Qiuyuan is sharp and concise. He never wastes time. So what is he doing?
“Your thoughts,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that slides under your skin. “I sense chaos within it. Do you want to share?”
His eyes — that muted gray, misty and distant, as if trapped in a perpetual haze — are directed right at you. And for some reason, it's now you who can’t maintain eye contact. You look everywhere but him, at the stars stitched into the sky, at the restless trees swaying with the wind — anything to forget the feeling of the feather-light pressure of his thumb on your lip.
“D-don’t look at me like that.” You stutter against your will.
“I can’t see, nor look,” he replies evenly. “I am simply facing where a threat looms.”
Like lightning, your eyes are on him immediately, raising a brow at him. “What threat?”
He chuckles, rare and quiet, and your stomach flips at the sound. “That’s what it takes for you to look at me. Interesting.”
You glare, half annoyed, half flustered. “Qiuyuan, what are you trying to say?”
“Your temperament is truly a wonder I can never hope to comprehend,” he dismisses your glare like he always does — calmly, playfully, infuriatingly — and leans closer still. His breath ghosts across your cheek. “Do you not like it when I let my hands wander?”
He already knows what's bothering you. Of course he does.
Yet that tone teasing, deliberate — to make innuendos is not like him. Againt your better judgement, it sends heat curling through your chest, fueling the warmth of your face. Still, you force yourself to stay on track, to pretend you’re not already melting under his touch.
(You’d let him do anything he wanted to do to you, you realize with a dangerous clarity.)
“You always touch my face like that before you kiss me,” you say quietly. “Why is that?”
He pauses. Not long, but long enough for you to feel the shift in the air between you.
“Back when we first met, I did not lie when I called your face fair.”
You blink, unsure whether to laugh or fall apart. He senses your confusion, and treads further.
“Is it not right for me to appreciate it,” he adds, “now that we are much closer?”
When he leans in again, it is slow and unhurried. The air grows still, heavy with something unspoken. You can feel the warmth of him, close enough that your breaths tangle in the space between.
His hand moves slightly, fingers brushing against your jaw, lingering like a phantom.
The rest happens somewhere between thought and sensation. A shift forward, the briefest contact, so light you might have imagined it — and then stillness, a silence that hums louder than any sound could.
You do not move. Neither does he. And yet something in you has already unraveled.
For a man without eyesight, Qiuyuan can do a lot of things.
He can fight, cook, survive — even sense the smallest flicker of thought that crosses your mind.
But kissing you into a puddle of madness?
That, you think faintly, as his fingers slide into your hair and his lips tilt into a small, all-knowing smile against yours — might just be your favorite of all.
And perhaps, might just be his too.
i woke up this morning to megumi by my side. In case you were wondering, yes he is my boyfriend. Made me breakfast too.
When I left for work my gas tank was full. Now I need to give him 3 mega thank you's.
I’m crying thank you for the update goat
What did he make u for breakfast