#jjk leak wednesday

[hsika92]

sukume nation winning today🗣️🗣️‼️‼️

[hualian]

Happy TGCF and Hualian Wednesdays to those who celebrate !

[easy-revenge]

im shaking screaming crying and eating concrete bc of the sheer concept of ino in sukuna's vicinity in the manga rn.

like same goes for kusakabe, they're both extremely disposable and sukuna could canonically oneshot them by breathing in their general direction, but ino is my special little guy. i have a bit more faith in choso but im stressing about him, too.

besides screaming into the void the point of this post is to put out there my vision for what's gonna go down with ino even though i lowkey hope that im wrong and he makes it out in one piece:

I've been thinking a lot about his scene after gojo's unboxing where he wanted to talk to gojo, shoko and ijichi about sth related to nanami. we don't know what that was about but I've been theorizing that it's got sth to do with nanami leaving behind a letter of recommendation for ino to be a grade 1 sorcerer.

it would make sense to bring closure to the scene of them eating that we see in the flashback during the shibuya incident and also as a focal point for ino's character.

more specifically my vision is basically that ino will get hit/heavily injured in this battle with sukuna and we're going to get a flashback to what he wanted to talk to gojo and shoko about aka the nanami thing. then, thinking that his motivation to impress nanami no longer stands, it would make sense for his character to use this memory as a boost to push forward and prove nanami right for believing in him. honoring his memory in the process and the like.

realistically speaking, i dont think ino can survive a one on one with sukuna or his ct, so there's a very good chance he's not making it out, and maybe his last thoughts would be about nanami as well, based on this theory, but i can't even bring myself to think about that rn.

so im gonna end this by hoping that this goes down and the thought of nanami is enough to somehow get ino safely home after this fight !! /delusional

anyways if this is substantially close to what ends up happening next week, know that i am in fact gege akutami

[gojoidyll]

i was not ready for jjk 236 leaks

[chuluoyi]

ooh so it’s okay… even when sukuna gains momentum, so long as yuji is able to hit him—his hold over megumi will get dull…

okay okay… i’m finally seeing an end to this tunnel :’) finally thank god

[rtz669]

fly high myamura 🕊🕊🕊 u were my favourite leaker. wednesdays will not be the same without you. rip to a real one 🙏🙏🙏

[raamitsu]

JJK LEAKS ??? WE’RE SO BACK 🤪✌🏼

[satoruhour]

#JJK228 spoilers under the cut

guys im actually lightheaded WHAT DOCU MEAN GOJO GETS A NOSEBLEED??? WHAT DO U MEAN SUKUNAS GOING TO ACTIVATE MAHORAGA????1? IM SICKKKKKK

[hsika92]

attempted murder!!!! DO YALL SEE THIS ITS ATTEMPT MURDER NOT MURDER

[ddelline]

time loop thursday (is back in action baybe)

blurb | so I read leaks today, like the rest of us depraved leak enjoyers, and uhhhhh. figured we might get our spirits crushed next wednesday, so I might as well make use of the sudden, violent inspiration ch260 brought me (iykyk!!!!!!)

premise | culling games; issa a short one, satoru-centric as this fic is wont to be. I'm coming back to parts I wrote as early as last sept/oct, when I published ch01, and rewriting large chunks of them. I've made a 5k dent of progress in ch02 though, so fear not the rewrites, but anyway here's a mix of old content/new writing

Admittedly, certified expertise on barrier techniques, as well as in the art of temporal/spatial divergence/convergence, knows quite limited use. Even if you’re Gojō Satoru. Which is fine in principal—he didn’t go into either field expecting to come out equipped with one-solves-all abilities.

However, Satoru thinks, annoyance sparking in his gut—supposedly such expertise has a time and a place, like everything. So it sure would be nice if he could make use of said knowledge somehow. Preferably in situations like this one, which features not one, but both concepts at snug interplay. Like, oh, maybe something, anything he’s learned could have served to indicate—to give him a subtle heads up—a trill of anticipation up his spine, a blaring alarm in his ears, Satoru isn’t picky—that this spit-shined, well-crafted barrier in fact auto-employs spatial scrambling on new player entries.

Satoru isn't a fan of stepping through something upright, blink, and realise he’s once again falling, dropping towards the ground ass-over-tits, equilibrium and spatial awareness once again taken out back and point blank-executed.

The first time hadn’t necessarily been of the barrier’s making, however for all its disorienting, space-scrambling likeness, Satoru doesn’t feel like he’s above lumping them together. For all he knows, his looping through space and time and death happens at the mercy of the same cosmic force responsible for the Culling Game.

He sucks his teeth sourly, bullies his limbs as straight as the whipping, tugging, sucking wind will allow, and shoves himself right.

It’s needlessly violent, maybe, to break his trajectory by way of subtracting for Red; pinpointing it downwards and launching it into the ground like a targeted missile. Satoru jerks with the force, is propelled upwards by sheer force. A sharp explosion cuts through the air. He stabilises himself, cushions his feet and the immediate space around him with amplification/reversal. He chances a look downwards.

Smoke and debris rises from a crater like a sharp gash in the concrete below, spiralling as from a pyre upwards on the wind.

Oops, Satoru thinks, and, right, might have to take it a little easy in here.

Surviving  the Culling Game (by his own capabilities, anyway) isn’t the problem—keeping his temper in check, however, might be. He’s rarely genuinely angry, nor is he really prideful, per standard definition—to be that, one couldn’t lounge quite so high atop the apex as he innately does—however being incessantly poked and prodded at by external forces he has little to no ability to impact or counter; being constantly impacted and undermined by sheer, helpless (now there's a first time) inability to predict and preemptively act—it’s starting to stake out a space inside him; is slowly coalescing into a permanent root system at his brain stem. He is—not quite helpless, but certainly toothless. Bark, barely any bite.

It’s a startlingly potent buzz in his central nervous system. A severe itch beneath his epidermis. He resists the urge to scratch at a bare forearm.

Touching down on the ground, Satoru feels cursed energy crush down over his senses, potent and physical. Spread out though it may be, the pure concentration of curse inside the colony is impossibly dense; the layer of Infinity he’d purposefully employed before entering the barrier feels bogged down with weight. He’d feel dizzy with it if he weren’t so inherently used to it.

For most people, curse-sensitive or no, cursed energy will bog you down. It will infiltrate the spirit; cover the senses like sticky fly tape; spread insidiously through air, through touch; touch received and touch given—until you succumb to it. Cursed energy functions inherently like a toxin, or a very strong numbing agent, depending on how receptive you are to its effect; how innately weak you are to its effects. Here, at the centre of a Culling Game-colony, it’s heady almost to the touch.

To Satoru, what it is is a prime data scrape. Everywhere he looks, central Sendai—because it is Sendai; he’d gauged his location from enough small landmarks when coming down to land—brims with signature curse. It comes at him from all sides, so much different curse made into one entity, trapped as it is within the barrier, with nowhere to go except together. It rushes at him, ravenous for what he exudes; moths drawn to the Six Eyes’ gas blue flame. It’s unlike what he experienced in the Tomb of the Star; unlike Sukuna-within-Yūji, and Shibuya—this is thousands upon thousands of impressions consolidated into mass and sensation; countless participants within the colony—each with their own unique curse signature, shape and density and dexterity that’s inherent only to its owner.

Most of it is inherently unfamiliar. Satoru tracks curse traces zigzagging across the desolate, smoking-wreckage landscape. Splotchy reds, noisy magentas, sticky tar-blacks. They’re not so familiar, except—

Satoru’s breath stocks in his throat without him meaning for it to. There’s the lone imprint which overlaps others; evenly trod, headed straight, evidently cautious in pursuit—and overwhelmingly present.

It's hot pink, effervescent and glaring. It tracks sloppily, leaks across and into the rest of the standout signatures due only to sheer amount. It’s impressively meticulous. Sadly it doesn’t matter; its owner could reign it in with millimetre precision, could stalk further into the territory as painstakingly as a hunting dog caught on a scent trail, and it still wouldn’t matter for its sheer abundance.

Okkotsu Yūta is a homing beacon—blinding and overwhelming (Satoru’d implored him to work on reigning his cursed energy in, but alas; he supposes he can’t fault him at this point) where he shines a brilliant path through the derelict cityscape.

Satoru stares far down the remains of the closest had been-sidewalk. If he’s too late; if this is a timeline in which Satoru, once again, is too late—Satoru shakes his head. The Okkotsu Yūta of months ago wouldn’t be defeated by anything he can detect within the closest couple of kilometers. Nonetheless, shit happens. And does happen. Time happens, as well—even to the best of them. If it has, then he’s not so late that Yūta’s signature has winked out.

Satoru’s not a man of chance and hope, neither historically nor innately, but death—life-within-death, well, it's a bitch that comes for all. Even the best; even the most caustic and weary. Even the strongest.

[torgawl]

GOJO CAME OUT OF THE BOX?????

[galarrapidash]

so when will it be safe for me to browse the Nanami Kento tag again :]

[zukkaoru]

gege. you do this to me today. on the day of the b.sd season 5 finale.

[gojoest]

his scars are making me feral once again

[kusakabesimp]

KusaHigu : After Hours ** 18+ MDNI!!!** This is a gift for @jjk-eugie

Kusakabe anxiously shuffled the stack of reports on his desk, running his hand over his tired face in frustration over the last-minute paperwork. It was already late in the afternoon, and he needed to be home by five. It was Wednesday, date night, and he'd promised to make Hiromi curry udon. As he heard the office door creak open, he glanced at his watch and realized it was well past time to go.

"I'm almost done," he called towards the door, recognizing the familiar sound of Hiromi's footsteps. Kusakabe turned to sift through the files in the cabinet, but he froze when he felt a hand slowly drift up his thigh. He dropped the folder he was holding as he looked down to see Hiromi kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"That's a hell of a way to get my attention," the samurai said softly, raising an eyebrow. Just the sight of Higuruma on his knees was enough to -- no. They were at work.

With a gentle touch, Higuruma pressed his hand against Kusakabe's hip and nudged him back against the desk. His gaze fixed on the slight bulge in Atsuya's pants, he ran his palm up the inside of Kusakabe's leg and reached for his belt.

A deep, baritone voice interrupted. "Hiromi."

"I've already locked the door," Higuruma replied, running his fingers over the belt's smooth leather. He traced the cool metal of the buckle, the sound of the clasp clicking open filling the quiet room. Leaning forward, the lawyer slid his hands inside the waistband of Kusakabe's pants, tugging them down slowly. "Please. You've never let me do this," he whispered as he kissed Atsuya's growing hardness through his boxers.

The statement caught Kusakabe off guard; he couldn't believe he was actually considering this idea, but his body was overriding all of his rational thought as Higuruma's hot breath seeped through the fabric. He watched in slow motion as his partner's delicate hands inched his boxers down, and as his cock sprang free, the last of his reservations crumbled.

"Hiromi, you don't have to. I don't want you to get overstimula-- Ohhhh fuck," Atsuya groaned. He knew that Higuruma's lips were soft. Every night, he kissed them before drifting off to sleep, brushed against them in the heat of passion as they were tangled up in bed. But this -- this feeling was something completely different. The soft press of those lips sent a shiver racking through his body.

Higuruma's tongue darted out, swirling around the head and savoring the bit of saltiness building up there. Glancing up, he saw his partner settle against the desk and lean back, tilting his hips slightly to allow for better access. Hiromi gave another soft lick, teasing along the top of Atsuya's shaft and up to the vee of his hip before trailing back down along the same path.

The slick roll of Higuruma's tongue made heat coil at Kusakabe's core, and he took in a sharp breath as he watched the lawyer take him into his mouth. "Shit, Hiromi. Since when did you," he started, but his voice ground to a halt as the other man inched down further, and suddenly, he found himself unbearably hard and leaking pre-come down Higuruma's throat.

Hiromi hummed in contentment as he sank deeper. Pressing his tongue against the thick vein on the bottom of Atsuya's shaft, he pulled back, sliding up along the rounded curves and back to the tip. He reached up and ran his palm along his lover's stomach, fingertips trailing along his muscles and down the inside of his thigh. Slowly, he slid his fingers over Atsuya's length, lapping at the tip as he slowly started to snake his palm around it.        

A low growl came from the depths of Kusakabe's chest, his eyes fixed on the man between his legs. With half-lidded eyes, Hiromi looked up at him, those deep, dark pools filled with desire, and Atsuya's heart pounded against his chest. No words passed between them because nothing needed to be said. There was only the soft suck of Higuruma's lips and the wet glide of his hand. Kusakabe groaned as his partner took him fully in again, and he gripped the desk so hard he was worried he might break it.

Higuruma drew in a deep breath and sank down in one motion, burying his nose into Atsuya's soft hair and letting out a blissful sigh. He started to move in earnest, hollowing his cheeks and sinking deep on each drag.

The sight of his cock moving in and out of Hiromi's throat made the samurai's breath quicken, each flick of the tongue making the heat in his groin coil tighter. He trembled as he reached out his arm, unsure of whether to make contact. In response, Higuruma leaned forward and guided his hand toward his head. As Atsuya threaded his hand through Hiromi's curls, a familiar shade of pink crept up on the lawyer's cheeks, letting Kusakabe know that his lover was enjoying this just as much as he was.

The floorboards creaked as Higuruma shifted on his knees, spreading his thighs and kneading at his pants. Fumbling with his belt buckle, he finally eased himself out, all the while keeping gentle pressure on Atsuya's length, now sliding full and heavy against his tongue.

Kusakabe's hips twitched reflexively and Higuruma moaned, the hum of the vibration running through the samurai's body like wildfire. He slid his hand down to the nape of Hiromi's neck and paused. "Can I?" he asked quietly. The lawyer nodded and tilted his head back, relaxing his jaw, and Atsuya gave a slow roll into his mouth. Conscious of his lover's sensitivity, he started slow, allowing him time to adjust before sliding further in.

Gently holding the back of Higuruma's head, Kusakabe gently guided him back and forth, feeling the heat around him grow tighter as he settled into a quicker pace. He angled the lawyer's head, easing forward and encouraging him to take him even deeper.

"You're so beautiful like this," Atsuya murmured. Drunk on the sensations running through him, Kusakabe thrust up firmly into the lawyer's mouth. As he heard Hiromi gag, he instantly froze and pulled back, a look of concern on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

Higuruma reached out, this time to grab Atsuya's other hand, placing it on his head as he pulled him closer. He heard a deep groan as he took in all of Atsuya's length and ran his tongue down along his sensitive skin. His cock still in hand, Hiromi gently tugged on himself, rubbing his fingers over the tip and back down again as he stroked himself in time with Kusakabe's hips. A warm trail of pre-come spilled over his lips, trailing down and dripping on his suit as he bobbed his head faster.

Atsuya could feel the heat building under his skin, and his head rolled back. The feeling of pushing into Hiromi left him lightheaded and dizzy. His knees went weak and started to shake, leaving the desk as the only thing supporting him as he struggled to stay upright. Cradling Hiromi's head in his hands, he slowed down slightly, looking into his eyes as he spoke. "Hiromi, I'm getting close."

Higuruma adjusted on his knees and began to stroke himself faster, taking in a long breath as he pushed back against the movement of Atsuya's hips. His hand lost all rhythm as Kusakabe canted his hips and pushed himself deeper. He tilted his head back, his eyes dark and pleading as he silently begged his lover to push him over the edge.

That hungry expression was all it took. Kusakabe tangled his hands in the lawyer's hair and pushed himself in as deep as he could go. Hiromi whined as he spilled into his hand, the sound muffled as the samurai held his head in place and came down his throat. Hiromi paused, moaning softly as he swallowed. He let Atsuya slowly slide out of his mouth, giving the tip one last lick before rising to his feet.

Kusakabe gently brushed his thumb along the sharp line of the lawyer's chin before planting a soft kiss on the bridge of his nose. "I guess this means I owe you dinner," Atsuya joked. As he playfully tugged his partner close, the old desk finally gave way. They tumbled to the ground, with Hiromi landing on top of him.

"Mhm, let's skip dinner," Hiromi murmured, his lips brushing against Kusakabe’s ear. "I think I have something more exciting in mind."

A sudden, loud knock brought them both to attention.

"Sensei," Miwa's worried voice called from the other side, "Is everything okay? I heard a loud noise."

Higuruma's eyes darted to Kusakabe, a mild look of panic on his face. Atsuya reached for a lollipop and tucked it in the corner of his mouth. "Hey, don't look at me," he said with a smirk. "You're the lawyer."

[ponkanhead]

This is one of the most funniest tweets about the jjk leaks 😭😭😭

Ngl, i’m gonna miss jjk wednesday. That shit makes my day better even though gege kill all my fave characters 😭🤧