#dear god please dont let this flop....

[oyabun-draws]

the passenger (2023)

[kentocrush]

03. ,, mitski + jjk

since twitter flopped on my mitski x jjk post ive decided to wrap it over to my real fans Tumblr (thank you) I am so enthusiastic about mitski and jjk equally so I have gathered a wide assortment of mitski lyrics/songs and jjk characters that fit each other! warning for obvious JJK SPOILERS (if I do end up explaining a few) I'll probably make a part two.

YUJI ITADORI + CRACK BABY "Crack Baby, you don't know what you want // But you know that you had it once // and you know that you want it back" I know damn well that Yuji misses what he had before, how he wishes for a normal life (even if he won't always admit it) but truly - he was cursed from the start, and he will never truly know what he wants back.

GETO SUGURU (HS) + I WANT YOU "you're coming back // and its the end of the world // we're starting over // and i love you, darling // and i'm done, dear" very much in reference to the KFC scene, but also Gojo in general. Theres not too much to talk about but I really emphasize the "we're starting over" although, they aren't really. Theres no starting over.

MAI ZEN'IN + I DONT LIKE MY MIND "inside the walls of my skull, waiting for its turn to talk // and it may be in a few years // but you can be its tere, waiting still // for me to be left alone in a room full of things ive done"

theres really no explaining to do here. As much as I dont really like Mai - she makes me so sad. especially with the hints on her relationship with Naoya??? fml!!!!!!

SUKUNA RYOMEN + COP CAR "am cruel, i am gentle, i can make you laugh // i have loved many boys, i have loved many girls // i dont think about the past, its always there anyway"

if you get it.. you get it. I really dont know how to explain blahhh...

JUNPEI YOSHINO (+ MAKI ZEN'IN) + CLASS OF 2013 "Mom, would you wash my back? // This once, and then we can forget // And I'll leave what im chasing for the other girls to pursue"

FML!!!!!! god I hate this but., RBGUBVUDHBSSIJ

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + CLASS OF 2013 (LIVE) "Mom, am I still young? // can I dream for a few months more?"

this is a sign for me to stop

GOJO SATORU (ADULT) + I BET ON LOSING DOGS

Literally the entire song is him idk guys. like his babies are his students andall he wants to be is the proudest teacher and father and he's just doing a great job. I fw Gojo Satoru. but GOD this song is so him im gonna fucking los

SHOKO IEIRI + FIRST LOVE/LATE SPRING "Lately, I've been crying like a tall child // So please, hurry, leave me, I can't breathe // please don't say you love me."

Shoko deserves so much better I say. im also listening to this song right now soo.

KENTO NANAMI (HS) + I GUESS "I guess... // I'll have to learn how to be somebody else // Its been you and me since before I was me // without you, I don't know quite how to live"

dont even get me STARTED!!! Haibara was His ONLY classmate and one of his ONLY close friends and he literally died and left kento alone. Nobody understood kento like Haibara did - and he lost his youth which is hwy kento wants to protect it so much nowww.

YUUTA OKKOTSU + THE FROST "You're my best friend // Now I've no one to tell // How I lost my best friend"

I actually love this song so much..! I feel a lot of people assume satosugu with this song but nobody else at the tech at all knew Rika like he did -- and he didn't really have anyone to TRULY understand the lost of rika like he himself did. let my boy get understood.

NOBARA KUGISAKI + REMEMBER MY NAME "Cause I need somebody to remember my name // after all I can do for them is done // I need someone to remember me // I need something bigger than the sky // Hold it in my my arms and know its mine"

I dont know how to put this into a lot of words. She wants to be known - become someone strong and someone that people can look up to.........

yayyy!!!! ill def try to cook up some more but with other artists zs well. I listen to a lot of mitski, laufey, and Tyler but I listen to others too.... give me some recs if you want!!!

always - likes and reblogs are appreciated !!!! (as well as comments I love to talk)

[degloved]

aaa fic requests open………… hoffheight love languages……… (but they dont label their relationship bc inner turmoil of being apprentices ;-;)

hello anon!! first of all this was a very delightful prompt. saw rarepairs (regardless if i ship them) are so fun to me !! hoffheight especially, i think they're slept on (by myself also, tbh.) i thought about the best approach to take so as not to make this too long, and initially decided to pick a handful, out of the five, which i thought most would be best suited to them. those being: quality time, physical touch, gift giving. this is very funny, as it still turned out to be excessively long (normally, these are 500 words—somehow i've ended up with 1600 words here.) therefore, i've decided to post it also my ao3 & the link to it, should you wanna bookmark or what have you, can be found at the bottom. i hope you enjoy! thanks for sending in a prompt, once again! p.s. i'm getting around to writing everything everyone's sent in! i just find myself a little more inclined to first jump into the prompts i know i'm gonna do without much trouble. chainshipping, while largely what i'm getting the reqs for, isn't my forte, hence the wait. but i'm trying!

-> READ ON AO3 <-

‼️SAW REQS STILL OPEN‼️

The Apprentices, despite their shared unshakable tendency to slip into petty conflicts with one another on an hourly basis, appeared to work oddly well together; like a well-oiled machine. Left-brain, right-brain, and their brawn; Lawrence's steady hand, Amanda's creativity, Mark's ability to put it all into motion.

If they were a machine, then Adam was surely the cog that didn't quite mesh with all the other moving parts. Perpetually on the fringes of the warehouse, uncertainly hovering about—passing a wrench here and a drill there—until inevitably slinking off with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He didn't fit, and he wasn't even really sure he wanted to.

Wasn't sure whether he'd fit anywhere else, either.

He'd always moved through the world with a sense of displacement; as if something had plucked him off some distant planet and dumped him here, only to cruelly leave him to his own devices. Because Adam's life was also a fucking joke, whatever higher power lurked out there must've also seen it fit to exacerbate said feeling. If there'd ever been any hope of an eventual breakthrough—any hope he might stop listlessly flopping on dry land and find a suitable body of water to slip into—it'd sure been squandered now. With something of a bitter chuckle, Adam had the thought he might walk the length of the Amigara Fault without ever stumbling upon his own hole, too. (Well, at least that meant he was safe! Safety being, of course, a commodity these days.)

“Adam?”

The sound of his name bouncing off of the warehouse walls broke him out of that depressing little reverie he'd embarked on. Somewhere out of sight, the clanking of metal against metal; the noise was sharp and, by rights, ought to be annoying if not outright grating on the ears. Unfortunately, he'd gotten used to it. Didn't bother him half as much as it really should.

“Yeah?” he called out—though set down the camera he'd been fucking around with (hopelessly fucking broken after he'd knocked it off the table last week), letting his legs carry him to the machine Mark had been working on for the past hour. “Need help?”

“Nah,” the other man shook his head, rogue droplets of sweat flying every which way. “This should be done.”

Mark stood up on slightly shaky feet, dusting himself off. Adam supposed working for Jigsaw was as good exercise as any: his skin glistened beneath the pallid light overhead, face appropriately ruddy. (His own cheeks must've decided to take inspiration from it, flushing in tandem.)

“I was thinkin',” he continued, hands on his hips, “You've been cooped up in this dump too long. Wanna get out of here?”

Yes. Dear god, please.

But, Adam would never go down that easy. Pointedly, he adopted the same stance, accentuating the jut of one hip, and—with a scoff: “Way to treat me like y'all's dog, some fucking... charity case stray. What, we're gonna walk 'round the block so I can sniff about and take a piss? How big of you, Mark, thanks for the enrichment.”

Mark rolled his eyes, hardly the one to fall for the theatrics. (He was no Amanda.) “What's crawled up your ass tonight, then?”

“Nothing!” he huffed, “I'm just saying it how it is. Got the leash ready, then? I'm really itching to pay a visit to that fire hydrant—”

A strong hand fisted itself into the front of his shirt, tugged him up to the very tips of his toes—at which point, he was being shut up in the most cliché-but-effective way possible. Mark, ever the cavalier, let go of him with all the consideration one might let go of a garbage bag. Adam stumbled back, slightly dazed by the kiss and thrown off-balance—figuratively and literally. “Stop pouting and get dressed.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, “Something fancy?”

Mark snorted, “No.”

-

A bowling alley.

A bowling alley.

Adam had a hard time believing it. Out of all places in the world, a bowling alley? (What were they, sweaty seventeen-year-olds making the best out of the spare change left over from lunch that week?)

In the dimly lit space, he leaned against the worn wooden railing, eyes fixed on Mark as the other stood poised at the edge of a polished lane. His face was scrunched up with a frankly disturbing level of focus; two massive hands firmly gripped a ball, fingers knuckle-deep in its holes. With a smooth, practiced motion, Mark swung his arm back and then forward, releasing it with a precise flick of the wrist. The ball glided down the lane and—crash—it sent the pins scattering, every last one of them.

When Mark turned, pride and triumph etched into every little line of his face, Adam... was a little smitten, alright? Watching him trudge over, eclipsing the colorful lights behind him, Adam soon found himself rather crowded against that railing. “Getting a kick out of showing off?” he needled.

“Yes.”

“God, you're sooo...” Adam groaned, head thrown back. Laughing, despite himself. He felt two thick arms encircle him, peel him off the railing, press him up against a plush chest and a soft stomach.

(It was not lost on him, despite the illusion of privacy in this here corner, that they were in public. All but asking to be seen—which was far from their usual gig.)

“Sooo what?” Mark hummed, grinning.

“Shameless.”

“A little.”

“A lot.”

“The right amount,” Mark leaned down, making the most out of the situation by placing a shockingly chaste kiss to the underside of Adam's jaw, the drag of his stubble tickling just enough to chase a giggle out of him. “You like it.”

“That's a bold statement right there,” murmured Adam, letting his arms fall about Mark's shoulders; so broad, his hands didn't meet in the middle. The reminder of this man's sheer proportions, as ever, sent a little thrill through him.

“You gonna deny it?” Another kiss, a little to the left. Adam was impressed for the fact his knees hadn't yet given out. Granted, he did have supports.

“Mm, maybe,” he hummed, letting his eyes fall shut, fingers digging ever so slightly into the fabric of Mark's shirt. “Possibly. Depends.”

Mark hummed against the front of Adam's throat, the sound more so felt than heard in the way it reverberated throughout the column of his neck, thrumming along the underside of Adam's skin. On a whim, he hooked his ankle around one of Mark's legs.

“Y'know, we've still got an hour on this lane...”

“Wow,” Adam intoned dryly, “Truly didn't cheap out on me here. And you've got your priorities straight. Can't believe I'm not being mobbed by your manifold suitors every day of the week. Should probably start hitting the gym, you know, fend them off easier...”

“Lucky you're easy on the eyes,” remarked Mark, tone measured—though there was a warmth in his eyes, “'cause that mouth is doing you no favors.”

Adam cracked a smile, reveling in his turn to be a smug shit.

-

By this point, Adam had developed a strong sense that something wasn't right. Not to say something was wrong per se, but... Well, they'd been driving for upwards of thirty minutes now—and they still weren't home. ('Home' was used, here, very loosely.) He was quite certain it hadn't taken them even half as long to reach their very romantic destination initially. So, what gives?

In any case, Mark's hand was warm where it lay on his thigh. Very rarely did it move, only to switch gears on the odd occasion—and just as quickly, it’d return to its post. They haven't spoken much, but they didn't need to. The silence enveloping them was comfortable and cozy, like a blanket straight out of the dryer on a cold night. An oldies station played very softly, so much so Adam could hardly pick apart the words.

Frankly, he could doze off.

Out of nowhere (and perhaps it was a good thing, as his eyelids had gotten concerningly droopy), Mark spoke up. “There's uh,” he cleared his throat, “something in the back.”

Adam, too tired to needle ('There's uh, something in the back'—are you a caveman?), twisted in the passenger's seat to the best of his ability, pawing at the—true to his word—a box wrapped in brown paper. It sat just out of his reach. Took a few tries to propel it toward himself.

He looked at Mark, an eyebrow quirked.

“Well,” the other's eyes were firmly affixed to the road ahead, perhaps stubbornly so, “Open it.”

“It's for me?”

“Might be, if I don’t change my mind.”

Needing not be told twice, Adam swiftly undid the wrapping, balled it and carelessly tossed it to the floor.

Then stared, mouth agape, at that which was revealed.

A camera.

“How did you—”

“I didn't do anything,” Mark blurted out, tone on the side of defensive for some odd reason, “It was all Amanda. And Lawrence. I just did the wrapping, that's all.”

Adam couldn't tear his eyes away, turning the box this way and that (even though he couldn't really read or see much of anything, dark as it'd gotten.) A well-timed glance in Mark's direction—just as drove beneath a street-light—revealed a deep blush staining his cheeks, seemingly spreading down his neck.

Adam’s lips twitched. His throat tightened. His heart throbbed.

Softly, fondly, he said: “I can tell. It looked like shit.”

(He’d bet all his life savings—granted, there wasn't much there, but it was the thought that counted—that Amanda and Lawrence had less than nothing to do with this.)

“It did, didn't it?” Mark smiled, shoulders sagging. Perhaps with relief.

Adam set his hand atop Mark's, still sat on his thigh. Squeezed.

The silence resumed.