#just take it i cannot keep staring at it
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philosophiums · 6 months ago
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hooooo boy i haven't posted a fic here in a long time but @hinamie's itafushi art fully possessed me so please take this offering as my first ever jjk fic
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Night has set in like a bruise – a dark sky framed and mottled by light pollution, a memory of violence hidden behind a veneer of something almost pretty. There’s evidence of life in the distant city, but nothing close by. Megumi can hear a soft thrum of traffic and the occasional shout or laugh, but the immediate vicinity hosts only crickets and the restlessness of his companion.
Itadori is pacing at the bottom of the staircase Megumi is sitting on, and Megumi watches him closely out of the corner of his eye. It’s nothing new for Itadori to hype himself up before a fight, so Megumi isn’t worried, exactly, but there’s something abnormal in the fierceness of his movements, the rolling of his shoulders, the way his head tilts like he’s trying and failing to have a conversation in his head. 
He doesn’t want to mention it. Conversations with Itadori are often marred by the reality of what the finish line looks like – they can’t both make it out alive. They both know it. Itadori likes to pretend he hasn’t grasped the reality of the situation, but Megumi understands the depth of the haunting he carries around when he thinks no one is looking. Which means that when Megumi asks after him, inquires into his wellbeing, Itadori brushes it off with a smile and a laugh. And his smile is as brilliant as the sun, so of course Megumi has to look away to protect himself.
Somewhere in the nearby bushes, several of his rabbit shikigami are maintaining a perimeter around the area, allowing him to relax while still doing everything he can to stay on high alert. Shibuya shouldn’t have turned into such a mess, and maybe it wouldn’t have if more people had been suspicious to the point of paranoia. It’s too late to fix that, too late to take away Itadori’s scars, too late to take back the suicide pact he himself signed, but he can at least look ahead to whatever future awaits them. He can do his best to keep them safe. 
“Fushiguro.” 
Oh no. Nothing good ever comes from Itadori’s serious voice. 
Please. 
If I die, you’ll kill me, right?
He blinks and finds himself looking at a stationary Itadori, hands in his pockets and eyes on the building behind Megumi. “What is it?”
“Are there really curses in there? I thought they couldn’t step foot in a church.” Itadori looks genuine when he asks, and it wouldn’t be the first foolish question out of his mouth, but the tone he used to call Megumi’s name just… doesn’t match with the question. Seriousness followed by off-handed curiosity isn’t exactly Itadori’s style. This isn’t what he had wanted to say, but something made him pivot into an unplanned conversation. 
Maybe Megumi has been paying too close attention to him. Maybe Megumi should know better. It’s all doomed anyway – a heat death guaranteed to happen. There’s no point in devoting so much time trying to learn someone’s intricacies when they’re inevitably going to leave, by force or otherwise. He should save himself the heartache. He should have learned his lesson the first time Itadori died.
His arms shake with the phantom weight of Itadori’s body in his arms, limp and lifeless and bloody with that stupid soft smile still on his face even in death with a hole in his chest. His parting words still circle in Megumi’s head sometimes.
Part of him wishes that Itadori had cursed him in the end. Maybe it would have been easier.
“You’re thinking of vampires,” Megumi says. “Or demons. Curses can go anywhere.”
Itadori makes a sound like he’s not really sure he believes Megumi, which is insane because Megumi is not the one who watches movies with vampires and demons in them. At least, he hadn’t before Itadori walked into his life and demanded movie nights at the school and midnight viewings at the theater.
���A church, though?” Itadori continues, insisting. “Aren’t these supposed to be, like, full of positive energy?” He tilts his head up and to the side, and the closest streetlight reflects across his face, highlighting his jaw, catching in his eyes until they glow damn near gold.
Megumi has to look away. His chest hurts if he stares too long at everything he can’t have.
“Just because something is comforting doesn’t mean it can’t be a curse.” As soon as the words leave Megumi’s mouth, he knows he shouldn’t have said them. Even in his peripheral, almost entirely out of his view, he can see Itadori look at him with his expression opening into surprise or something worse.
Fuck. He really can’t allow himself to be so obvious, especially when they’re hours away from stepping through the barrier around the first Tokyo colony and into the Culling Game. They’re about to put their lives on the line again. Now isn’t the time to lose his composure.
Before he can catch himself, his hand is in his pocket, digging out the pack he keeps for what he considers emergencies. There’s a cigarette between his fingers in a matter of seconds, and his lighter is in his other hand a moment later.
Itadori swipes it before he can light up, and Megumi is left with wide eyes and a cigarette dangling limply between his lips as he looks up at the boy suddenly standing over him. He forgets, sometimes, just how fast Itadori is. 
“Since when do you smoke?” Itadori asks, all childish curiosity, not an ounce of judgement in his tone. And yet, the stolen lighter feels like judgement – a withholding of something, well… harmful, sure, but it’s not like Megumi isn’t aware that every inhale of nicotine is an inch closer to his death. What does losing a minute or an hour or a day matter when he’s probably not going to reach the age of thirty, anyway?
“Since middle school,” Megumi replies, reaching out to attempt to quickly reclaim his lighter, but all Itadori has to do is lean his torso to the side and it’s out of reach. “Can I have that back, please?” 
“Why?” Itadori hasn’t had such a soft look on his face since they dragged themselves kicking and screaming out of the warzone Shibuya turned into.
“Because there’s a cigarette in my mouth and it would be a waste not to smoke it.”
Itadori makes a face, a petulant little pout just this side of sticking his tongue out. It’s cute, and Megumi has to close his eyes for a moment. “I meant why did you start smoking in middle school?”
The sigh that leaves Megumi’s lungs is heavier than he wants it to be. He’s not… good with emotions, and he’s even worse at expressing them. It wasn’t a problem when he was all alone, with the second-years distant due to their classes, and Gojo either a nuisance better avoided or thousands of kilometers away taking care of a curse too powerful for anyone else to handle. But then Itadori, fresh off the loss of his grandfather, sacrificed himself for not only his friends but for Megumi as well. And he has refused to leave, no matter how hard Megumi tried at first to put up his barriers and protect himself.
Because the truth is that Megumi was helpless from the moment Itadori jumped through a window and crash landed on a curse. He is the very definition of someone with an unshakeable character. The fact that they’re here, now, on the backside of a slaughter, newly scarred and traumatized, and Itadori can still smile at him in a way that softens his eyes proves beyond any doubt that he is who he is and that won’t change. And it guts Megumi from the inside out because everyone who has ever touched his life has become poisoned by him.
He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and holds it between his knuckles. “I don’t know. I wanted…” This time when he sighs, it’s softer, and he moves his gaze away out of embarrassment more than anything else. Itadori and Kugisaki already made fun of him for how he acted in middle school, and he doesn’t want to go through it again. “I wanted people to be afraid of me – teachers, students, upperclassmen, underclassmen, it didn’t matter. I wanted to look and be as aggressive as possible so they didn’t mess with me or Tsumiki.”
Itadori snorts, and less than a second later he’s laughing with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. For the moment, he’s unguarded, and Megumi uses the opportunity to stare. In the low amber light, he looks impossibly young, soft around the edges where his scars and personal losses have hardened him. The pink of his hair dims into the gentlest of dawns, and the happy tears that pearl in the corners of his eyes are more stunning than the thin veil of starlight overhead. In a world overflowing with curses, Megumi has never believed in angels, and yet it’s the only word he can conjure that comes even close to describing the boy in front of him. 
Megumi knows he’s in love; how could he not be?
“That’s just like you,” Itadori says, breathless, and Megumi suddenly feels like he’s falling even though Itadori is the one suddenly dropping to sit on the stairs beside him.
Itadori is a morning person, even though he’s slow to wake up. He won’t drink coffee unless it’s iced. He never tucks in his shirt tags. When he’s upset, he throws himself into social situations to hide behind other people’s laughter. He carries snacks in his pockets and will offer them to everyone. These are all details that Megumi has collected about Itadori, stashing them away like a crow with shiny objects, hoarding them as the treasures that they are and that he can never truly have.
He had never once considered that Itadori has been observing him just as studiously in return.
Their knees bump, and Megumi knows he should pull away, but he can’t bring himself to. The night isn’t cold, but Itadori’s warmth is a comfort, anyway. Megumi hasn’t had many comforts in his life.
“Give me my lighter back,” he says instead of acknowledging anything else. His chest hurts. His heart is too loud in his ears. Itadori is right there, lips twisted by his scar, eyes flashing with the humor that’s still rolling through him, shaking his shoulders as he looks back at Megumi.
Instead of answering or acquiescing, Itadori leans forward until their shoulders press together, blocking out the ghost of a breeze flowing in from behind them, and rolls his thumb over the spark wheel until a flame catches. His hand and Megumi’s both come up at the same time to cup around the other side, protecting the small flame from the elements, and it’s tender and intimate when Megumi’s fingers brush against the curve of Itadori’s palm.
He pretends not to notice as he puts the cigarette back between his lips and ducks his head. The first drag to catch the paper and tobacco on fire takes a while, and he is so incredibly aware of how close Itadori is, of the protective shell they’ve made with their bodies as they keep this flame going between them. He can’t think about it, can’t acknowledge it, can’t –
As soon as he sees embers, he sits up and leans away, creating a small pocket of space for him to exhale into. But the flame stays lit, Itadori’s thumb still pressed into the fork to keep the gas flowing out. 
Megumi smacks his arm without looking at him directly. “You’re wasting the butane.”
Without protest this time, Itadori listens, and the flame dies with a soft click as the fork snaps back into place.
The stillness of the night around them settles again, crickets becoming the dominating sound over the gentle rattling of leaves and the far distant honking of a car horn. The tobacco sizzles as the fire slowly eats through it every time Megumi takes a drag.
Itadori’s unwavering gaze on him feels like a physical weight. There’s a tender smile there, Megumi just knows it, but god damn it he won’t look. This can’t be a this. There’s nothing here but a road that dead ends on a bottomless cliff. No one has forever, despite claiming that they will, but he and Itadori don’t even have years. They could die tomorrow, the moment they step through that barrier. Fuck, the curses in the church behind them could come out and catch them off guard right now, and no one would know where to look for their bodies.
So it doesn’t matter that Itadori sometimes looks at Megumi like he hung the moon. It doesn’t matter that Megumi understands the plight of Icarus when he sees Itadori smile. He is not going to create a situation that is doomed to end early. He is not going to push his feelings into the world just for the universe to stomp them into the dirt. He is not going to let himself muddy the lines on a friendship that is already too good to be true.
He takes a drag in that’s harsher and longer than the last, fast enough that his lips burn from the fire racing too fast through the cigarette towards the filter. He lets it hurt, tells himself he deserves it, and exhales the smoke slowly with his eyes closed.
For a moment, he just sits there, his arm draped across his knee, which is still pressed into Itadori’s knee, and tries to pretend that everything is fine. It’s normal. It’s just a crush. It’ll go away. He would rather die with longing in his heart than risk living long enough to experience a loss that will crush him.
When he brings his hand back up to take another drag, fingers on his wrist stop him in his tracks.
“Fushiguro.”
“Itadori?” He turns his head and opens his eyes in the same movement, wondering if there’s a problem, if all the actions he took to be obsessively vigilant were for naught, if somehow something got the drop on them. “What –”
The press of Itadori’s lips against his own shuts him up fast and leaves his mind spinning and his lungs devoid of air.
What?
Why…?
Itadori makes a noise at the back of his throat – soft, questioning, encouraging – and Megumi forgets every reason he has ever had on why this is a bad idea.
He kisses back.
It’s not a desperate kiss. There isn’t a sudden light switch that flips on and turns them into feral horny teenagers crawling all over each other, desperate to touch in as many places as possible as fast as they can. Three points of contact is all they started with and all they still have. Their knees, digging into each other in a way that almost hurts, but the warmth is so strong that it doesn’t matter. Itadori’s fingertips oh, so gently resting against Megumi’s wrist, not even touching skin. And the tentative slide of their lips as Megumi tilts his head and Itadori seems to crack a smile.
Itadori’s lips are chapped, and Megumi can feel the texture of scar tissue as they blindly search for an angle that feels better than the others. It probably wasn’t meant to be a long kiss when Itadori first leaned in, but Megumi can’t bring himself to pull away even though there’s absolutely nothing physically holding him here. The instinct to jerk back with his hackles up is there, just under his skin, but every exhale of Itadori’s sounds like a blissed-out sigh as it shivers across Megumi’s cheeks, and he finds himself more and more willing to just have this.
Itadori is the one to break the kiss, but he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Megumi’s and just breathing into his space. Megumi feels like he just ran five kilometers; it’s impossible to suck enough oxygen into his lungs to stop feeling lightheaded. His cigarette is still between his fingers, slowly burning itself down to the filter, but Megumi has completely forgotten about it. 
“What was that for?” Megumi whispers, eyes flicking back and forth looking for clues in the depths of Itadori’s eyes. It’s an accusation, yes. They could have kept pretending. The pain at the end of this is going to be unimaginable. But it’s also a desperate plea. 
Don’t pretend it didn’t happen. Don’t apologize. Don’t say you didn’t mean to.
“I don’t know,” Itadori admits, and that crooked smile is back, perching on his mouth in a way that tempts Megumi to kiss it away. “Good luck? Felt like the right time.”
Megumi drops the cigarette by his foot and moves his hand to Itadori’s face, cupping his cheek and the curve of his jaw. He can feel himself shaking with adrenaline and the fear of an unknown dark path laid out in front of them. “You’re an idiot,” he says, but even he can hear the fondness in his voice. 
“Mhm, yeah, you’ve said that before.” Itadori’s hand covers Megumi’s, and the shaking subsides. “But you kissed me back, so what does that make you? Reckless?”
“Insane,” Megumi offers, just to hear Itadori laugh. He isn’t expecting the second kiss that follows, but he’s glad for it, anyway.
It’s funny, he thinks, even as he pushes a little closer and sighs into the shape of Itadori’s mouth, that regardless of the church behind him, regardless of the temples he has walked through time and again, regardless of the habits he hasn’t broken of prayers during the new year in exchange for fortune slips that hold no merit to him – despite religion flowing in and around his life, there is no higher power in the universe he believes in as much as he believes in Itadori. 
If anyone can defy fate, if anyone can push through to the other side of certain tragedy, it will be Itadori. 
Start by saving me, he had said, and this isn’t exactly what Megumi had meant. But his chest is warmer than if he had tipped back some sake, and he certainly feels like he could face down a special grade curse and win right now.
They’re not going to have forever. They may not even have twenty-four hours.
But they have tonight. They have right now.
“You better not die tomorrow,” Megumi warns, just barely breaking away enough to speak.
Dying alone is all but a guarantee for jujutsu sorcerers. One day, one of them is going to leave the other behind, and it’s going to rip the survivor to pieces and scar like a phantom limb. Even without a confession, their feelings have splattered like a hemorrhaging wound onto the staircase between them. No amount of backtracking, of lying, of pushing each other away could mop it up now – they’ve left a stain, and their hands are doomed to always have each other’s blood caked under their fingernails.  
“Would be a shitty good luck kiss if I did,” Itadori says before leaning back with a smile as broad as the sky.
Megumi pushes him away with the hand on his cheek, and Itadori’s laugh overtakes the crickets and the wind and the far-off traffic as he pulls himself back into Megumi’s orbit with their fingers tangled together.
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3-aem · 7 months ago
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MY BRAINS NOT WORKING AND THE CUTE BOY I WORK WITH KEEPS CORRECTING MY GRAMMAR THIS IS SO AHAIWIAKSDHDGRRRRHRNE
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masquenoire · 2 months ago
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Barring any new asks, I think that's the last of those 'icons only' memes and it was very fun doing them all! Thank you so much for sending them in everyone, I'm feeling more confident about activity again and will hopefully be inspired to write a bit more often from now on providing schedule eases up sometime soon!
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gornackeaterofworlds · 5 months ago
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It's 1am where I'm at but ah well... Here's a sneak peak!
*throws*
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Oh my lord
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fisheito · 6 months ago
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Imagine you have to set up yakumo's enclosure for the next couple months. How do you set it up and what do you put in there?
oh NO.! THE PROPPHECY HAS BEenm FUFILLED
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i am standing in my room, leggies rooted to the floor. i am in shock .frozen and i have no idea how to proceed. there is a perpetual pathetically sobbing serpent under my blankie.
#stares at the camera and stage whispers#i can't be responsible for another living creature. i can't. or . er. i can. but I SHOULDN'T#i'll have to suppress every violent urge in my body to keep this thing alive for several months#i CANNOT fling him out the window. i WILL NOT grab his entire face and squeeze. I SHALL NOT chew on his tail.#now i'm reminded of that post where it's a pretty princess cage on the floor and comments go [that aint big enough for a dog]#and OP is all [it's not FOR a dog 😀]#yeah. that's me right now imagining a full grown yakumo in a cage by my bedside#SO FOR EASE OF MY IMAGINATION AND TO increase yaku's chance of surviving these next months#i'm going to try real hard to imagine him exclusively in pocket snake form (scrunches up my face in valiant effort)#his enclosure (crib?!?!) is flanked on all sides by eiden plushies#since yaku is an adult there is a smaller chance of him suffocating on eiden in his sleep. wait. actually#arranges the eiden walls to give some pockets of air. i don't trust him. he WILL suffocate on eiden given the opportunity#he gets one of those tiny dollhouse cooking sets for enrichment LOL#or i'll give him a bunch of those make-your-own gummy kits with elaborate setups and tiny egg gummies#crying yaku is the excuse i need to finally get a humidifier#i can survive not misting myself.. usually... but yaku will cry himself into dehydration. it's misting time#he gets an entire alcove closed off in the corner with his basic needs met. i cannot perceive#he can lurk in privacy as much as he wants. there are at least TWO hot rocks in there with garukaru's faces painted on em#there is a duplicate open-space alcove next to it for when he actually wants something from me LOL#is he a free range snake? can i take him to a bunch of restaurants and shove food into my sleeve for him? he wants to sample the delights..#tempted to put a bell on him just so if he gets loose in the basement i'll know to fish him out#but he's pretty cautious... he won't get into any fatal situations in the house right? ...does he know how to swim?!#at least one day is reserved for testing yaku's swimming capabilities.#he is going into the bathtub while it has a film of water. gonna test his traction. i hope i won't get panic-strangled#asks
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agayconcept · 7 months ago
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#im in so much fuckin pain i cant move ugh#like. typing this is excruciating#but i cant just stare at the wall or im gonna lose it eventually ugh#my pain is getring progressively worse these days and the last 2 months have been hell#doctors r worried this might be my new normal for the time being#which. uh#SUCKS#bc i cannot stand or walk for more than 5 mins#and i need a walker w me bc my cane isnt enough#and most days i am trapped in bed (or on the couch if i can make it there) unable to take care of myself#bc everything hurts and i feel like i'm being tortured#oh and my lordosis & the related pain is now at a level that might need serious medical intervention#my migraines r out of control#my joint problems r also way worse#and u kno what ? i would like to die now#thanks#truly and genuinely#im so done#i cant keep going this way#my doctor has no idea what to do#and the pain clinic im a patient of refuses to help further unless i sign up for their ridiculous pain education program#which is 8 weeks long with mandatory in-person weekly attendance (i do not live near it & cant afford transportation)#where they tell u all the ways ur pain is ur own fault and give u unrealistic and ridiculous advice abt exercise and lifestyle changes#that u Cannot do bc of said disabilites and pain#jfc#our healthcare system is broken and nobody cares if i live or die or suffer#AND im stuck dealing w my mother complaining abt my existence nonstop bc she resents me for the things i cannot do independently#so u kno what ya i am done. im so done. i give up#catch me rotting in this bed forever until i die. thats the only option being given to me
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martsonmars · 2 years ago
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desperately trying not to have a panic attack about university hehehe
#literally the only thing i'm supposed to do is study#am i doing it? nope of course. i have less than a month left to take exams and i should take at least 2 but i haven't opened a book in more#than a month and the thought fills me with dread and i literally physically cannot do it#it's possible that going back to my uni flat would help (it would be a change in scenery for sure) but on wednesday it will be a year since#my father died and there's this fucking church thing and my mother won't force me to stay but i really should. shouldn't i?#after all it's already saturday and i've already wasted 40 days. what's half a week more?#i keep staring at the list of exams and i know that if i spent every waking second studying i could get back on track and graduate when i'm#supposed to graduate but 1. it's not healthy and 2. my brain refuses to study for ONE exam let alone 14 so it's unrealistic#and at this point i should just accept that i'm going to graduate one year late and one year after all my friends because last year i did#absolutely nothing. and last autumn started out great. i moved. i was organised. and then the first week of october my mother was at the#hospital and i had to go home for a week and somehow i let that week screw up my entire semester#and now i'm panicking because i have only 18 days before the exam i'm supposed to take and it doesn't feel enough for everything i have to#study but it's not going to get better if i just let all the days pass without doing anything but i can't i can't i can't#so yeah i should be kind to myself and accept i'll need one additional year for all the exams and take it slowly which is the only way to#actually get things done. but i don't want to. i don't want to tell my mother that i failed at the one thing i'm supposed to be doing#but i really really can't it's hard and i'm failing and my head is screaming that i don't deserve hobbies and yet i keep wasting my days#it's one am and i should either sleep or relax because it's not like i can do anything now and yet i feel like i need to fix my entire life#right this second or i'll explode. i'm so tired of my thoughts.#please ignore all this ^ because i know most of it is irrational or whatever and i DON'T WANT to hear rational things#if you've read until here and really want to say something just tell me that right now i'm allowed to relax#any other comment would make me feel worse#💖💖💖#**one month left to take exams this semester not forever hahaha but then i'd be supposed to take all the remaining exams in the summer#and i can't possibly take 14 exams between now and july which is why i'm panicking (there are other logistically confusing things in what i#said but i wanted to clear this one up at least lmao) (i'm already feeling vaguely better can't you see?)
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ghoul-haunted · 1 year ago
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sextus pompey-mark antony but not in a way that fixes anyone
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cannotflyarc · 4 years ago
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tags; general
*❈ ‣ nothing there sings not even my lark. larks never will‚ you know‚ when they’re captive.  — ( study. )   
*❈ ‣ i am hungry for touch and ashamed to be looked at— ( wishlist. )  
*❈ ‣ in the wood even songbirds must be survivors — ( headcanon. )  
*❈ ‣ i’m a silly little ninnynoodle — ( ooc. )  
*❈ ‣ how can you jubilate sitting in cages‚ never taking wing? — ( aesthetic. )  
*❈ ‣ outside the sky waits‚ beckoning‚ beckoning‚ just beyond the bars — ( queue. )  
*❈ ‣ have you decided it’s safer in cages‚ singing when you’re told? — ( interaction. )  
*❈ ‣ when she is alone in her room‚ i hear her humming to keep herself from thinking — ( starter call. )  
*❈ ‣ and i stare like a haunted‚ wounded animal — ( psa. ) 
*❈ ‣ you have become a woman‚ my dear. by necessity‚ not by choice. — ( edit. )  
*❈ ‣ did you get enough love‚ my little dove? why do you cry? — ( self promotion. )  
*❈ ‣ i feared you’d never come‚ that you’d been called away — ( promotion. )  
*❈ ‣ teach me how to sing. if i cannot fly‚ let me sing — ( meme. )  
*❈ ‣ and are you beautiful and pale with yellow hair like her? — ( visage. )  
*❈ ‣ whence comes this melody constantly flowing? — ( meta. )  
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ferberus-skull · 1 year ago
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really sucks going from "will reopen early may" to "will reopen early to mid may" to "oops will reopen early to mid june, hopefully early" and finally to "i don't know when i'll be open again". like man :( why won't my brain let me do art
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byanyan · 2 years ago
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hhhh no writing today bc brain is mush from only 5 hours of sleep. hopefully I get my sleep schedule sorted this time bc I think that'll help my activity here immensely. tomorrow I will aim to do some writing before I flop face-first into gaming so I don't lose the entire day to it lmao,,
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malpractice-morale · 1 month ago
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fuck finishing my bsc before starting courses for the msc i hate my thesis so much rn i cannot continue working on it full time plus i need to catch up on work the bastard can accompany me through my first msc semester
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micehusband · 2 months ago
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I physically cannot take it anymore I need to be able to hug and kiss THIS Liza until she's dizzy and has stars turning on top of her head but she will not fall because I am holding her and I will kiss her more until she's slumping in my arms
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sttoru · 6 months ago
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your older boyfriend, satoru, shows you just how much he adores you in his private office <3
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x virgin!female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). smut, pwp. fīngering. multiple ōrgàsms; overstimulation. mention of corruption kink. dry hūmping. nicknames ‘princess, baby, beautiful’. pls ignore any grammar errors xx
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“heh, don’t look at me. look at yourself, princess,” satoru chuckles, easily noticing how your head is tilted in attempt to watch him as he gets you off. you’re sitting on his thighs with your legs spread, shamelessly allowing him to finger you in his office.
your shaky eyes dart down to your dripping cunt—clearly seeing how it’s got a mind of its own. it’s squeezing satoru’s long fingers as he moves them in the speed of light. your limbs are shaking by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving.
“the-the door,” you hiccup. you hadn’t locked the door behind you when you walked into satoru’s office. you definitely wouldn’t want any of his colleagues to walk in on you. though, that didn’t seem to worry your boyfriend. all he’s focusing on at the moment is your perfect pussy taking in his middle and ring finger.
satoru’s glossy lips are parted and covered in spit. he has to lick up the drool from the corner of his mouth so it wouldn’t dirty your opened blouse. he’s quite literally salivating at the sight and feeling of your warm cunt. . .
“the others ‘re busy, they won’t come in as long as you keep your pretty voice down,” satoru promises you in a smooth tone, blue eyes wide with fascination as he stares down at your pussy.
he’s always imagined what it’d be like to be inside of you. what it would feel like to hold you in his arms and make love to you without holding himself back— to show you a world you have yet to discover.
satoru wants to be the first one to do that, though he’ll wait until you’re ready. for now, he’s completely satisfied with just a taste of heaven.
“fuck, baby, she’s beautiful,” satoru praises your delicate pussy. your wet folds continue to make way for more of his fingers, spreading as he tries to enter a third digit into your poor, clingy hole. you whine as you feel satoru prepare you by rubbing your clit repeatedly with his thumb—trying to make you as wet for him as you possibly could be.
you shake your head, “can’t take more, ‘toru.” it genuinely feels like you’re being stretched out. three fingers are going to take you out. “nuh-uh,” satoru mocks you before telling you to look at him. the moment you do, his lips envelop yours in a lustful yet comforting kiss. you moan into his mouth and he does the same back, eyebrows furrowing because of how good it feels to suck on your tongue.
his fingers don’t stop. the third slides in and you jolt back against satoru’s chest. “shh, shh, i got you,” the older man attempts to calm you down. he stops fingering you for a second so you could adjust to the stretch. you’re tight—he can feel his erect cock twitching in his pants, begging to replace his fingers. he can’t, not yet.
satoru cusses under his breath once he feels your ass rub against the bulge in his uniform’s pants. you’re killing him and you don’t even realise it because you’re too focused on his fingers fucking your cunt. shlick shlick shlick — you’re dripping wet.
“i’m gonna cum,” you whisper through a soft gasp. it would be your third orgasm. you’re sensitive and your pussy feels like it’s on fire. your lower abdomen is tingling and aching. you’re going to inevitably squirt all over his chair, again.
satoru bites his lip as he hears you announce how close you are. his long fingers are already soaked with your juices, coating them with a sticky layer that he cannot wait to taste. “do it, baby. wanna see you cum,” your boyfriend coos.
satoru loves the way your hips circle back to him, rubbing against his groin. you’re driving him insane without even knowing it. he curls his fingers inside you, thumb still circling your clit for extra stimulation. you’re being driven to the edge of insanity.
he bucks his hips a little each time you involuntarily move in his lap. “toruuu, fnnh, so close,” you’re not only moaning because of the fingers inside of you, but also because of the hard bulge rubbing against and between your ass cheeks.
satoru knows your voice can easily carry over to the next room. you’re usually loud when you finish on his fingers. he takes his free hand and pushes your head back against his shoulder, his index and middle finger sliding into your mouth to silence you.
your whimpers are muffled as you automatically start sucking on his digits. satoru kisses your ear and jawline, whispering small words of praise against your skin because of your obedience. “keep it down for me, beautiful. y’re already doing so well.”
your eyes roll back as your saliva dribbles down his left hand. the wet trail runs down his veiny arm that’s exposed to your view. you love it when satoru pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows—it reminds you of why everyone fawns over him. it’s hot.
you’re trying to hold out, not wanting to cum. you wish to stay like this, with satoru’s fingers deep in your cunt and mouth, his bulge grinding against the fat of your ass.
the white-haired man instantly notices this and chuckles to himself; you’re fighting a losing battle. he increases the pace, his wrist working over time so his fingers could reach those sweet spots in your velvety walls. he decides to rile you up some more;
“shiit, just imagine that ‘ts my cock stretching your pretty cunt out,” satoru grins against your ear. he knows you’re weak for dirty talk. you have never felt what it’s like to be stuffed full of a dick, and thus the imagination adds to the raunchiness of it all.
you shiver and let out a small moan escape your mouth before you continue to suck on satoru’s fingers. all this time you’ve settled for make out sessions, grinding and oral pleasure. you’re needy for more than that.
satoru knows what buttons to push. he knows how to make you melt and give in to him and his words. he bites your earlobe after letting his tongue lick the skin, “all filled up to the brim. you’d like that, huh?”
you barely managed to stifle a loud whine at that. your eyes widen and your pussy spasms around his fingers. you know it’s not long before you’re going to cream all over satoru’s hand.
sweat trickles down your forehead.
“yes, yes, yes!” you moan repeatedly, voice muffled by the fingers in your mouth. you can hear your boyfriend grunt into your ear after seeing how enthusiastically you’re responding. he’s totally getting off to you’re desperation.
satoru wants to cum so bad. he wants to shoot ropes of his cum in the pussy he’s prepping to one day take his dick.
you see black spots in your vision because of how hard the climax hits you. your breath hitches and you grip onto the armrests of the chair for support. a spray of clear and watery juices covers satoru’s entire hand and bits of his arm—evidence of just how much you enjoyed your little session with him.
the older man pats your tummy and rubs it, comforting you as the aftershocks of your climax hit. he pulls his fingers out of your messy cunt and brings them up to his glossy lips, thoroughly licking every drop off. his dick pulses in his pants at the delicious taste.
you’re panting as you try to get your thighs to stop shaking. you’re out of energy, drained. all that you hear replaying in your mind is satoru’s dirty talk. you don’t know if you can handle his dick if you’re already overwhelmed by the way he skilfully uses his fingers.
as if sensing your thoughts, your boyfriend smirks and hugs your body tightly to his chest.
“can’t give it t’ ya now,” satoru whispers and pouts, teasing you as if to turn you on again. he takes his wet fingers out of your mouth and presses his lips against yours as a promise, “but one day i will, yeah? one day i’ll fuck ya so good you’ll only know my name.”
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beeapocalypse · 1 year ago
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thinking of situations and scenarios
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teddybeartoji · 5 months ago
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
oral fixation but it's biting instead of sucking. toji has noticed that you like to gnaw on your lip a lot – when you're deep in thought, when you're watching tv, scrolling on your phone, in bed. it's cute. teeth sinking into the soft flesh, eyes blown wide as he works his mouth on you. he can't tear his gaze from you – you're biting down so hard, toji thinks you're going to draw blood. you're desperate, you're needy, and you need more.
he often finds you chewing on your on fingers, too. playing with the sharp canines in your mouth, toji holds back a groan before fixing himself through his pants. it's not his fault you look so good all the fucking time! and the fact that you're doing it unconsciously too, is making his head spin.
you do that in bed as well. toji has learned that you're not trying to hold back your moans – your teeth itch. you need more. he can see the marks you leave on your own skin, how you drool all over the finger that's lodged between your fangs. you bite down harder and harder with every thrust he makes and it has him wondering how much it hurts. do you like the pain? can you even feel it, or is it just pleasure in your head? he needs to know.
so, with one quick move, he pulls your hand from your mouth and pushes his own pointer finger past your lips instead. his hips never falter and he fucking adores the way you try to focus on what he's doing; you're fighting the urge to just let your eyes roll back inside your head but now that his heavy finger sits on top your tongue, you cannot allow them to do so.
your mouth is so warm and wet, and toji twitches inside you. his own lips part as he stares down at your confused expression. you close your mouth around his finger, thinking that he wants you to suck it but no, no...
"bite." his voice is more hushed than usual and the knot in your tummy tightens. "i know ya want to."
hesitation pools in your eyes but he washes it away by leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to your cheek. it's sloppy, it leaves a stain and a whine bubbles up from your throat. he stays close, his lips brush over your jaw – and that's all it takes for you to obey.
the hiss he let's out is addicting; he pulls back from you in an instant, his mossy eyes glued to your mouth. it doesn't hurt, not really – it's perfect. the roll of his hips slows as he tries to slide his finger between your teeth (he wants it to hurt a little more), he loves the way sharp edges scratch st his already rough skin and he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. a little scared that he'll stop, that he'll tease you, but he won't. not when it feels this good.
you bite down even harder and his hips buck forward at the sensation. his own eyes grow wide, surprised by how much it's affecting him and he grumbles something under his breath before picking up the pace again. you're leaving dents in his skin and you're drooling, you're squirming and twitching. you're so fucking pretty and fucked out and cockdrunk and you keep whining around his fingers and he's going to pump you so full that you're going to taste his cum<33333
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