densecloud

leslie ☆ this is my main/writing blog!

[densecloud]

welcome to densecloud.

thank you for visiting, i’m leslie! i write and publish my works only when the stars align, and my style changes like the seasons. ☆ blog + writing status: hiatus. for the meantime, check out my uploaded works via the masterlist link below! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

masterlist my works tag fic recs tag about

if you are a minor, do not interact with posts tagged #nsfw

i only write female! reader inserts as i’m not familiar and experienced with gn stuff, please bear with me!

updated 10122021.

[densecloud]

labyrinth. / takayuki mima x reader

synopsis: the both of you always seemed out of reach, but life somehow finds a way. a/n: my first cool doji danshi fic!!! felt the need, no, compelled to write for the man right off the bat bc i kin him to the moon and back... i need the man in my life rn. maybe i just have a thing for really chill office workers (ok not maybe, now that i think about nanami kento) but theres just something serendipitous about the man that i absolutely love. save me. also, i added a bit of background to him that deviates a little from his schooling life for some context. i hope you guys enjoy my first work for this series & him!

>;     “Takayuki Mima?” 

“I haven’t heard of him in decades! He was always in the background with his head in the clouds, and I remember him being around Igarashi a lot. But Takayuki’s a kind-hearted one.”

“Yeah, I remember him picking up my lost textbook and he left it on my desk. I wouldn’t have known it was him if someone didn’t see it! How is he doing?”

As a matter of fact, the last question keeps you on your toes, leaving you clueless on how to put it in words; particularly because Takayuki’s never seemed more at peace, as if he’s seamlessly moved from the years of childhood. From your more than occasional glances ages ago, you’ve deduced that the schooling years shared were not necessarily a tumultuous couple of years for him, though there was always a tinge of hesitancy coupled with the grasp of his tiny fingers on Igarashi’s jumper. Among it all, a burning desire hidden beneath his meek demeanour, all of him wishing to jump into conversations that Igarashi often handles on behalf of the pair. 

It’s a fleeting moment, especially when you were only trying to get a drink from the machine, and because you’ve never been one to fixate on people like that. Sure, you suppose the school was relatively smaller and that provided plenty of chances to analyse that particular shade of chestnut by the windows, flowing to the lulls of the autumn breeze while darker eyes observe the waltzing of leaves.

Circumstantial or not, you can’t help but to hold onto that excuse and choose to tweak it a little. The world is simply too small for you to catch onto Takayuki right smack in the middle of Tokyo, a modest city, you delude yourself — and you recite this excuse countlessly throughout the dinner, waiting till your mind tires from the thought of him. “Err, I’m not sure,” you mumble. “I just happened to see him at the bookstore earlier.” 

“Eh, has anything changed about him?”

“...nothing much, except being much taller?” Well, you lied. The sweetness of strawberry desserts lingers on your tongue, just like his surprising appearance from this afternoon. Diving into the comfort of your bed doesn’t change the fact that your actions have been baffling, to say the least. It’s just, you make another loose attempt at lying to yourself, today’s been a terribly long day.

In actuality (and you know it all too well), you’ve never expected how attractive he looked with glasses.

>;     Whether minute or not, making bad decisions has been an integral aspect of Takayuki’s life, and it doesn’t help that he is neither a feisty nor an ambitious individual. Two supposedly mutually exclusive characteristics intertwine like fine threads, crafting his personality at a young age, though the regret is an unwanted extra that haunts his nights and time spent alone. Missing out on opportunities is part and parcel of his youth, leaving him to his own devices while making do with the happenings of fate. As simple as moving on without having too much thought about it. Thankfully, life gets a little easier to navigate as he grew older, as well as grew to pursue the passions he always had. Serene weekends at the café, spearheading public relations projects for Igarashi... The neglected heart of his rejoices at every venture he takes. 

Just like old age, regrets always find their way to him and found him once again upon hitting the bed last night. Feeling the physical toll from intensively reading the new release at the store yesterday, Takayuki tosses and turns in the break room, desperate for a quick wink that refuses to settle in. (And unbeknownst to your knowledge, he did not notice you nor a single being at the bookstore, especially not at a crucial moment of giving all his undivided attention into Igarashi’s new novel.) 

...I’ll just grab a coffee.

There’s a particular situation that has been resting lightly on his heart for so long that it almost slipped away with time, allowing Takayuki to move on as he had intended after accepting fate. Actually, a particular person who makes him wonder if things could go differently, should he have taken the initiative ages ago. To be fair, he was always on the more reserved side through his formative years, leaving hardly any courage for younger Takayuki to have struck a conversation with you — however, he admits that hardly anything has changed upon recognising an older [Name], just seated just a few tables away.

“May I have your order?”

“Oh, uh, I’ll get an iced Americano. Thanks.” Astonishing, really. Things were supposed to be done there and then, right before the end of high school. 

Futile were his attempts to fold a paper crane out of the absurdly long receipt and sort out his thoughts, as he takes all the possible chances to steal glances towards your way. Perhaps it was another opportunity presented by fate, for him to approach you like how he was meant to before your paths diverged. Perhaps, he could fold another paper crane just like the perfect one he has hidden in his bedroom drawers, though he laments the fact that his fingers aren’t as nimble as before. Regardless, it begs the question: how would you react to his small acts to approach you? Takayuki can only wish for the answer that he missed out on during his high school graduation, and pin his hopes on an optimistic outcome. “Iced Americano for Takayuki-san!” 

“Thank you... also, do you have a pen?”

>;     Perfection.

You cannot be any happier, you think, when it’s a Friday afternoon and the newly opened café along the neighbourhood serves excellent coffee... and not to mention, the lack of a crowd in the vicinity. Everything is falling into place, and you can feel it — warm rays of sun on your skin, work being done remotely, no superior to loom over your shoulder as the clock ticks. Asking for more would be too good to be true, and this is enough for your peaceful afternoon alone. The only thing you nitpick on is the dazzling brightness of the summer sun that not even the café could prevent, but a few curtains should do the trick...

“Maybe I’ll sit somewhere else next time,” you sigh, rubbing weary eyes after hours on the laptop, “huh?”

“Hey, um... do you remember me, [Name]-san?” 

Yep, it’s too good to be true. “...Takayuki Mima. It’s, it’s alright if you don’t recognise me though.”

“Of course I do! Ah, wait! I mean, I remember you from high school... sorry if that sounded weird.” It’s been a long time since you’ve observed him on the daily, but witnessing him crack up a smile makes you lose all reason for a moment. “Haha, then I’m glad you do.”

“Wo-would you like to take a seat?”

“Hmm.” Takayuki takes a peek at his phone. “I’d love to join you, but my break is ending soon,” he slides a napkin over, “maybe this will make do, for us to catch up a little.”

Contentment is great tasting coffee and a productive work setting that you’ve chanced upon, though this encounter has tipped the scales too much for your delicate heart. Contentment was all you had since last night, and only after hours of convincing yourself of the coincidence of seeing Takayuki at the bookstore. Well, of course, you knew that this afternoon felt too perfect, for you to have probably mistaken him for the sunshine, looking much brighter in a flannel rather than full office wear just yesterday... however you’re left stupefied with the napkin in your hands and the delicate handwriting of his.

For now, contentment is a thing of the past, and you grapple with the idea of being overjoyed till your heart feels like it’s about to explode. 

He looked kinda shy. When he tried to pass it to me. You’re unable to contain the grin stretching from ear to ear, but at least you’re calmer than hours ago. You’re getting there. Breaking out sweat from climbing sets of stairs and a click of the door knob brings you back to your sanctuary, and a gulp of iced tea from the refrigerator tries to bring you back to your senses. Yet, still not enough when your phone buzzes from a shopping app notification.

Conversations in the past were always in passing, but... it’s as if he was prepared for this encounter, and he wanted it to happen too. Again, he looks good in glasses. And that flannel. To think about it, you wouldn’t mind it yourself to see him again... however, that takes another couple of hours before you could act on it at all.

“...it’s me, [Name]. About your note...”

I’ve always wanted to talk to you, but couldn’t find the right time to do so. Here’s my number: +81XX-XXX-XXXX. Maybe we can text and grab some coffee another time. - Takayuki Mima

[mafuyuh]

It’s safe through cloth, right?

[akashiserizawa]

cool doji danshi will be like

“i accidentally put the candles in my birthday cake upside down. we bought drinks and they’re not labeled, so we don’t know which belongs to who. i forgot to take the lens off the camera before taking a picture. i got a sleeping mask at work and kept it on for hours.“

and then it’ll be like “the connections you form with the people around you, even when they are fleeting, are what truly spark joy and creativity. it’s completely okay to mess up; take your mistakes in stride and laugh at yourself. finding your passions requires taking initiative, even when you’re scared of the vulnerability that comes with being honest about what you want. even in adulthood, you are still capable of learning and growing from the people around you.” 

and then it’ll go back to “i keep reading the same line of this book over and over again. i thought the mannequin at the store was a real person. i thought the pants i left on the floor was my cat. i mistook the pack of mints at my desk for a computer mouse.“

[ffxvcaps]

Play it Cool, Guys ED → ”Flash!” by PICG

[densecloud]

'Cause she was the girl that I used to be

A girl with no responsibility

Became the armour that I hid behind

You like what you see?

thank you for the haiku hahahaha

[densecloud]

Your writing is insanely gorgeous, I love your work

Thank you!!! I'm glad that you appreciate my work and I cherish your support :)

[densecloud]

Hey? How are you?

hi, thanks for asking! been really occupied with school but finally got the time to pop by and see how much this website has changed... LMAO

[densecloud]

just kidding. / gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: class clown, a trickster, or whatever you call him... Gojo Satoru is far from being one dimensional.  a/n: MY GOD it’s been so long since i’ve written something... anyways here is my first gojo piece and i hope you guys like it :)

Gojo Satoru. 

Class clown, a trickster, or buffoon, as quoted from Nanami Kento at some point. Call him as you see fit, but the man was never to be taken to heart. Being the subject of his atrocities was a common experience for every student attending Tokyo Jujutsu High  — and you would relieve a sigh at frequent points in your schooling life.

A sigh of acceptance that you will never escape his antics, despite the fact that they make the arduous trials and tribulations at school a little easier to take in. Or a sigh to console those at Kyoto, who may get by the days much smoother without having the speck of joy in the hallways. Perhaps, a combination of both. Well, it was good enough to gain firsthand witness at professors writhing upon the glorious sound of fart balloons stuck on their seats, hence you’d rather enjoy the moments the buffoon had to offer. Tokyo Jujutsu High always had more... eccentric personalities around anyway.

“Gojo Satoru!”

A buffoon through and through, you reckon it is never a Monday morning without the man stirring up some chaos in the office. Lasting years with this man is no ordinary feat, and you’re considered one of the honorary persons who have unfortunately spent almost half your life suffering from his frivolous actions. Well, how could you have survived all this time? (You actually don’t, and it gets worse when you’re older and your patience for everything is almost non-existent.) 

“Yes?” Gojo chirps, his annoyingly gorgeous gems of pupils glistening bright enough for you to see through the blindfold. “Oh, good morning, [Name]!”

His keyboard meets specks of red, a familiar substance he created way before working hours, and a saucer of sorts holding a stapler that someone had clearly jellified. “Bon appetit?”

“It’s not even April Fools,” your fist hits the monstrosity that he’s created, momentarily wishing it was his face, “and I have papers to prepare! Also, wipe that grin off your face before I smother it with this breakfast you’ve created!”

“Hey, hey,” he surrenders, both hands up and beads of sweat rolling down his temple, muttering ‘give me a bit’, then sticking an entire arm into one of his ever clogged drawers filled with trinkets and things confiscated permanently from his students (and for his own amusement). “Lucky for you, I’ve got a new stapler! Look, it’s shaped like a duck,” Gojo hovers it around your face airplane style, “say good morning to Ducky-chan! Isn’t this buddy cute?” 

Ducky-chan? Cute? You would rather sell your soul for this thing than the lowest of the low stapler that the school had to offer. You cannot wrap your head around how he’s got such an excellent eye for this procuring adorable things — thankfully you are accepting of adorable things, so Ducky-chan’s beady eyes will be an apology you will accept. “I suppose this will suffice,” you hesitantly leave your palm out to receive his gift. 

“Oh? Quack, quack. Oh my,” he coos, pressing on its beak to release more Gojo-made quacks, “but I think Ducky-chan wants to stay with me.”

“Alright, I’ll be taking your beloved away,” you attempt to break the duck from his grasp, but his devastatingly long and gangly limbs just get the better of you. “Please... I need to get back to these papers —”

“I have one condition.”

“Spill it.”

“Give me some of your time this evening?”

“Isn’t this...”

“A date?” Gojo scratches the back of his head, sheepishly avoiding your gaze despite his eyes being hidden from the blindfold. A breath of relief, you assume, as if he’d been keeping this wish hidden for quite some time. “...yes.” You raise a brow, pondering over the age old question, “and this is not a prank, I promise,” he speaks with fortitude, or rather a determination he’s taken much effort to muster. His chest is heavy, fingers fiddling tensely with the stapler while awaiting your answer. The boisterous buffoon turns uncharacteristically mousy and slightly blushy... and it scares you quite a bit.

Gojo must be contagious, because you’ve become a blushing mouse yourself. 

You’ve once wondered while seated right at the back of the classroom about ten years ago, if that comical demeanour he holds constant was ever the true Gojo Satoru. Is the pride of the Gojo Family as one dimensional as he portrays himself, or is there much more to him? You would love to know, but the man who has always been out of reach, physically or emotionally, suddenly reveals an awkward side of himself that makes him all the more blindingly attractive. And sure, you’re a cranky old person now, but it’s sensational to have not just anyone but him ask you out, regardless of how he’s just jellified your stapler moments ago. 

Well, your curiosity has finally been satiated after ten years, but only for a moment. Two bashful adults stuck in their tracks, one overwhelmed by a pleasant surprise while the other feeds her curiosity for him. 

With the jester revealing his true colours to the queen, the queen craves for more to come. “...okay.”

Unbeknownst to her, the jester silently cheers at the success of his prank.

[densecloud]

do u make ocs of people

nope i don't actually, my brain is kinda hardwired (sadly) :(

[densecloud]

hey bestie its not a idea or anything but i love you and your work

hello anon!!! thank you so much for your message, it's probably been a thousand years since it got into my inbox :") but i really appreciate it and ily toooooo

[densecloud]

back for a bit

ok what the hell happened to this site LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

[densecloud]

candy in my palm. / ryomen sukuna x reader

warnings: mentioned and implied violence, gore and blood.  synopsis: phases of your relationship that make him feel human, but he guesses that you’re not exactly human either. this fic is set in an AU where sukuna is separate from yuji’s body but is still in human form. both of them are housemates and under supervision of jujutsu tech. a/n: MY GOD i just came back after my first term in uni and decided to complete this fic which was created about 6 months ago... the whole process feels like a fever dream because i struggled so much to finish it, but i hope you guys like it! otherwise, i apologise if it sucked aaaaa ://

     Conceived in a world meant for mortals, he once believed he was born without a heart. Not that it bothered him anyway or disrupted his daily routine of blood and insatiable hunger. Intensity and violence lead mortals to their deaths, and conversely driving forces for his mania and cynicism, thus ironically sustaining his lifespan and granting him the title of royalty in the darkness. Though, various phases that makes humans humans are alien, to say the least, and the King of Curses considers himself lucky to be lacking in those experiences. 

After all, what pushes him to thrive in a place that rejects his existence, pulls a human to ruin instead, and he believes it would’ve also worked the other way round. 

Time passed, and Sukuna acknowledged that he is a deviant. Heartless, the cruelest of all, and unapologetic of his disruption in the world he never belonged in. Has he always been a mistake? Maybe, he’d likely scoff at the thought of it. At least evil was meant for him to create and unleash. The grin after humanity’s demise was meant for him to show. 

Time passed, and Sukuna had forgotten about what lay beneath his chest. Plans of devastation upon the world were more important then, and he decided that such trivial things weren’t worth the headspace. Before he met you, he’ll say it’s been too long. — Tsk, whatever. Can’t remember. Even if he ripped it apart to check, the wounds would’ve healed within minutes. — Do you want to die early, or perhaps, stop wasting my time? 

Discomfort at the empty void within would remain, however. 

And he’ll never speak a word about this.

    Awkwardness is a curse undoubtedly yours, latching onto him with all its might. The world works in mysterious ways, most of it caused by cursed spirits and such, but this is something even he cannot explain. Arrogance that usually brings him success somehow tried to dig his own grave, and each glance you send across carves a letter of his name in the tombstone. Never in his life would he expect Yuji’s confidence to surpass him, and to do so right in front of you, someone he barely knows, makes him shrivel up and retreat back to his chambers.

“You’re done eating?” Yuji asks. He doesn’t get a response except for the sound of running water, his gaze trailing Sukuna’s movements right till he’s out of sight. “Don’t mind him, [Name]-sensei.” You shake your head to brush it off. In fact, you were summoned just to check out how they’ve been cohabiting, and that would end up as another detail to be added in the report.

Although Ryomen Sukuna is disconnected from Itadori Yuji, the living environment appears to be peaceful and there is no sign of assault on each other. There comes the one-to-one sessions with both parties, and you take advantage of his unlocked door. The mighty Sukuna lies almost motionless on his bed, hands tucked under the pillows and a leg crossed above the other. Just like how a king should rest. 

At the sight of you, however, he goes into a foetal position. Possibly to avoid the weird, tugging feeling in his chest. A nice blanket fortunately covers his curious gaze.

Nobody can ever witness him all domesticated, let alone Itadori, so why are you being a bother?

Ryomen Sukuna is also an awkward guy.

    Pain is a stranger that only opens up to you. You... you must be an anomaly, one unafraid of death and smiles at such a vile thing. Sukuna applauds your effort to make conversation each time you’re around, be it for work or not. The halls are often filled with your laughter (and Yuji’s, to his annoyance), but they’re akin to music to his ears, though shrill cries in the late of the night are something he’s more accustomed to. Reluctantly, he figures he’ll excuse your chuckles and yours only.

“— Oh, good afternoon!” 

You’re suddenly obstructing the path to the pantry, even boldly sticking out a hand when he attempts to shrivel up and escape, “Yuji said he’ll get the TV set up... wanna join us for the match?” When you ask him with such ease and that grin on your face, it’s as if you’ve conquered Small Talk for Dummies. Unable to accept his initial cowardice, the previously puffed up Sukuna has taken weeks to make proper eye contact, let alone progress from silence to a comprehensible sentence.

You are unlike any other human, and he tries to make sense of it. Is this how you are in essence? How are you able to face apocalypse head-on, or even willing to invite him to such trivial activities? If the world was perfect, he’d be subjected to all sorts of pain for the school’s experimentation. Blood, flames, screams and him being the one suffering this time around — he imagines you with some modern torture device just designed for him and flashing an angelic grin before spurring those hands to his demise. At least it’d be the perfect ending to his stinging failure to conquer the world. 

Oddly, reality is far from his expectations and you’re holding onto some sort of blue device. Not meant for killing, to his knowledge, but for clicking and spurring excitement as he’s observed from Yuji before. 

While looking at you in the eye, he finally gives a firm ‘yes’ on a scorching hot day.  Sukuna adores things that drives him insane, and infatuation gradually blossoms from his unhinged curiosity. Nobody is going to answer his questions, so he begins his quest on finding them one by one. 

“Sounds good.” 

A couple of Sundays later, one with the summer breeze drifting in as he remembers, Sukuna laughs along with you — specifically at your reaction to Yuji’s unimpressive defeat. That is when he realises how out of place you are, especially for being someone that he refuses to annihilate in an instant. In the many centuries he’s lived in, you are an anomaly to be treating him as human, simply because “it’s meaningless not to do so” despite “being nervous as hell from every interaction”.

“Thought you might be curious,” you speak gently while Yuji’s out running errands, as if knowing of his goals from the very start, “I just hope that we can get along better.” Like the sudden breeze seeping through the windowsill, Sukuna is... pleasantly surprised, at your confession. And with heat akin to the summer days, inner desire burns like a freshly struck flame. 

Anomaly or not, you have unknowingly sought for pain on that very Sunday. 

Just as how a human would every single time.

    Frustration tries to cope with your absence by bringing upon past madness, and melancholy comes by when you’re gone. It’s ridiculous how he’s been so reliant on your gummy smile for him to finally appreciate this horrendous apartment, and for you to be missing for two weeks in a row shortly after. Unlike his Malevolent Shrine, these concrete walls are almost suffocating and dull, even without the brat around. Taking a breather once in a while never hurts, but the halls feel so empty without your feather-like footsteps around. 

The blue controller that is unanimously yours lies lonely on the coffee table. He refuses to give it a glance, not without your fingers around it. 

You... you aren’t like everyone else, Sukuna is certain of it. You haven’t been away for weeks, and it’s not because you’re trying to get away from him. It’s your job and you’re supposed to keep regular checks on the both of them, yet  —   

“Yo. Are you... okay?” 

His door is slightly ajar, mostly surrounded by fear that the abnormally dispirited Sukuna would rip Yuji into shreds. Rash, aggressive, terribly cocky — but him being unnervingly docile during meals and hibernating more often does make Yuji wonder if he’s been conjuring an escape plan from these heavily protected walls... thus a few months of cohabiting have hardly eroded the boy’s anxiety around him, and less so when you’ve been away.

Exasperated, he sighs. “What do you want?”

“Uh... nothing much, just wanted to see how you’re doing. Sensei’s been asking.” He swears that Sukuna was buried under the sheets just a second ago, but all four eyes on his face are staring right through his soul. “[Name] asked about me?”

“Well yeah, technically, but how we were doing to be exact. I said I was alright, but for you... not so sure about that — ow! What the hell’s that for?”

“I’m slapping some sense into you, brat. You probably made her worried for nothing.” 

If he has a heart, he’s always wearing it on his sleeve, doesn’t he? After spending a substantial amount of time with Sukuna, he would know a thing or two about his character. The menace to humankind finds lying an utter waste of time, excluding half-truths — which are absolutely necessary to bait the gullible, such as Yuji himself. On the contrary, this compulsive truth-teller’s monk-like lifestyle does raise eyebrows, notably with your absence coinciding with it, but Yuji’s grateful for the lack of pompous tendencies. 

“It’s for you,” he slides a postcard in his hand. An ethereal sunset is painted in the background, and highlights of white housing that Santorini is known for. Finally, the postcard signs off with your initials. 

Yuji notices that his hair tends to flare up whenever he’s excited. 

“And you’re terribly obvious, do you know that?”

    Joy returns with open arms. Just another month, Sukuna recites like an oath right before drifting to slumber. 

“...not having a great time hunting cursed spirits here, but I hope to visit this place again with you and Yuji! I want to show you how beautiful the sunsets are in real life!”

You never fail to drive him insane, as you should, when he feels a delusional touch of warmth upon the touch of dried wood pulp. It’s the gorgeous sunset that drives him into a frenzy; he feels your imaginary embrace while dreaming of ending up in it as he sleeps. Ironically, his imagination hardly runs as wild while confined within his territory, but these four walls hardly appear as bad as it seems anymore. 

Instead of the thrill you bring, who knew that curses have become gradually irrelevant? Perhaps he should be known as the King of Daydreams instead. 

Yuji irks at the sudden spurge of life in him, as Sukuna expresses unhinged excitement in the form of continuous gaming and even offering to complete chores. Right, he must have a screw loose from the human ways of living, and this is his coping mechanism. The death lord Sukuna finally gives up on resisting and turns domesticated from Jujutsu Tech’s intense experiment, just like taming a tiger in a cage. This tiger dons an apron; instead of his appearance, Yuji is terrified with the improved standard of dishes as the weeks passed, and how there is barely a speck of dust in the house. 

You must have induced a remote curse in the postcard, because nothing is stopping this tiger from its pursuits — to prepare himself for your return, knowing well that he wouldn’t be able to control himself. When you’re back with bags of souvenirs and a dainty smile on your face, Sukuna realises his desire to hold you tight. To feel your warmth against him while you eventually wrap your arms around his waist. 

“I was about to initiate, but I realised that I was too shy five seconds ago,” you chuckle. “You must’ve missed me.”

He holds you a bit tighter. 

“Surprisingly,” his hand strokes your hair affectionately. “This house is cold without you.”

    He concludes that you must not be of this world as well. Made of flesh, he deduces after knowing of your family, and in possession of a delicate heart that bleeds and shines extrinsically. Fingers that quietly reach out for his. Tears from the death of your pet turtle. Falling of leaves in the park, then the heaviness of your lips. Constant tapping of your pen against the table, because marking papers is absolutely dreadful. How the corners of your eyes crinkle just from enjoying your favourite ice cream. 

Sukuna couldn’t be more certain that you were human. But with the simple act of placing his hand against your chest, you’ve offered your heart to him on a silver platter, causing his confirmations to waste away in an instant. 

“I’ll be in your hands,” you’re speaking softly, blood rushing to your cheeks. No human would ever make such an offer at the risk of danger and unpredictability, not even if they were offered a fortune for it. “Please take care of me.” 

He then devours your heart, downing it as if it were candy in his palm; finally claiming it while it replaces the void within his chest.

Again, what exactly are you (apart from being the love of his life)? 

Sukuna hopes to find his answer eventually.

[costellos]

Got any blogs you recommend?

OH BOY DO I. before I begin, though, I know I have quite a few minors following me on this blog. I ask that you please respect these writers’ boundaries if they specifically state they’re 18+! it’s an uncomfortable situation for everyone involved, and by interacting with their blog, you’re violating the terms of their consent. I’ve included quite a few sfw blogs for you to look at, so by all means -- look all you like!

@densecloud | multi-fandom 

favorite piece: what else can I do, except adore you? | ryomen sukuna (jjk)

BOY OH BOY. I love Leslie and literally everything she puts out there!!! she tends to focus on fluff and domestic pieces. and I know this is a given with these genres, but everything she writes is soooo comforting. not in a traditional sense, though. like if I had to describe it, her work reminds me of falling snow, a rainy day, or waking up at 3AM and being completely at peace. I think her piece “Chrysalism” exemplifies that best. there’s just something so serene about her craft that’s so unique from most other fluff-oriented authors. 

please go give her work some love!!! Leslie is still relatively new to the tumblr writing scene and she deserves so much more attention on her work. (also she’s like. the funniest damn person I’ve had the honor of interacting on here. pls read her tags.)

@j0succ | multi-fandom, 18+

favorite piece: a well-rounded education | multiple (jjk)

Nat has SUCH a playful style and I can’t even begin to elaborate how much I love it. you can see this best with their “A Well-Rounded Education” series, especially in Nanami’s chapter! like everything in this chapter is just so fun, from the way they describe Nanami himself to how they highlight Gojo’s lightheartedness vs the Reader’s seriousness as teachers. plus! the tension in their stories!! so much sexual tension!!! Nat does a PHENOMENAL job at building up sexc scenes and I am so envious of their skill.

they’re also just a super open person. v non-judgmental on like literally everything. their blog has a lot of content on chubby!Reader, so check ‘em if that’s something you’re looking for!

@ddarker-dreams | multi-fandom, 18+

favorite piece: scarlet ribbons | bucci gang (jjba)

okay so Lock is most known for her horror content, but I feel like her fluff isn’t recognized enough. I am in LOVE with her Scarlet Ribbons series. each chapter makes me feel so warm. I also feel like she doesn’t get enough credit for her timing? like, there have been instances where I’ve literally laughed out loud to her pieces with Mista. ofc that comes to play in her horror content too, but she’s just a really funny person as a whole and I feel like that should be recognized.

overall - you know how you can tell when someone is smiling when they’re on the phone with you? that’s the kind of vibe I get when I read her work. Lock puts her everything into her craft, which is incredible considering she’s a full-time student!

@dear-yandere​ | multi-fandom

favorite piece: almost god | dio brando (jjba)

you’ve probably heard of Vanya if you’ve been on the tumblr fanfiction scene for a while! and for a good reason too -- her work is otherworldly. my jaw literally dropped reading her “Almost God” piece. she has this crazy ability to get into a character’s psyche and write it in such an insightful way. like. my pea brain can’t wrap my head around it; just check out “Almost God” to get my point.

Vanya’s also a huge advocate for recognizing and protecting content creators’ work on this platform. she’s a godsend, I love her and her ruthlessness, but she’s also incredibly kind and I have sosososo much respect for her!

@storiesthatneedtobewritten​ | multi-fandom

favorite piece: pining | ryuji sakamoto (p5)

Emmy!!! my love. Emmy is a literal machine, she’s amazing at coming up with such fun headcanons on the fly. hence, she’s always interacting with her followers! she plays so many ask games and it’s always a blast bouncing off of her and her big brain. her blog is different form these in that she focuses more on short n’ sweet content, and if you’re looking for that kind of stuff, look no further!!

also? also. Emmy is literally one of the kindest and most patient people I’ve met on here. her blog makes me feel like I’m in a swanky cafe / library, and she’s the barista giving me personalized content.

@bigwriterenergy​ | multi-fandom, 18+

favorite piece: kissing as a distraction | bruno bucciarati, giorno giovanna, guido mista (jjba)

fun fact, Goose’s writing is what actually motivated me to make this blog! they have SUCH a strong grasp on literally every character they write about. like, their headcanons tend to fair on the shorter side, and they make the most out of literally every word they lay out. I try to emulate that in my own work, so I take a lot of inspiration from them!

Goose is also in the midst of shifting to multi-fandom; be sure you support them as they do so!! it’s tough engaging a new audience and they deserve every damn person on this platform to read their work.

@moonbeamwritings​ | multi-fandom

favorite piece: realizations series | multiple (jjba, hq!!)

Maeve is an INCREDIBLE fluff writer, oh my GOD. she absolutely nails the pining part of relationships in her “Realizations” series. it’s bananas how well she can exemplify that shift from “haha we’re just 2 besties” to “oh lord I think I’m in love with his moron” and how those characters settle into those emotions. hence, she excels in writing actions and inner thoughts. it’s something I struggle with and she makes it look so easy!

Maeve is another writer who’s shifting to multi-fandom -- please go support her! she’s settling into Haikyuu!! as we speak, so if you’re interested in tender volleyball content, check her out.

@violettelueur | jjk

favorite piece: s/o with eczema | itadori yuji, megumi fushiguro

literally the Jujutsu Kaisen content queen herself. it’s unlikely you haven’t seen her pop up in the tags if you’re in this fandom, but my god does she deserve it. Violettelueur is another fluff writer who puts so much effort to make everyone feel included on her blog. like... my favorite piece, the “s/o with eczema” one, is such a niche topic (where my dry skin girls at make some noise!!!!) and yet. she tackled it nonetheless. I’m amazed with how much effort she puts into literally everything she writes, because good lord do I wish I had the drive she does.

Vio is currently taking a break from writing, but I highly recommend chilling out and having coffee with her (ie checking out her blog)! there’s a ton to content to skim through while you relax.

[calwritings]

to keep & be kept

pairing: gojo satoru/reader

rating: general

summary: Home is where the heart is. If you’re inclined to believe your mother, you know that the saying stands true. But you are not a believer, just someone who loves a little too much.

notes: uhhhh some writing practice, i guess. more on the fluff side, sorry! title is taken from ocean vuong’s into the breach!

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[yutari-moved]

sav. my best friend. platonic love of my life. “do you wanna get out of here?” with iwa or gojo <333

hello platonic loml. i’m sorry.

note: implied jjk vol 0 spoilers!! love u all <3

on this day, of all days, the sun should have chosen to retreat behind the clouds. it should not reflect on the snow that coats the ground, it should not creep onto the cloth of your jacket, and it should not lay in gojo satoru’s eyes as he stares out at the campus that lays ahead of you.

but it does. even as the winter chill makes you lean into him, the end of december still continues on, and there is no stopping the passage of time today.

and here’s the thing—gojo satoru does not cry. not in front of you, not in front of geto, and you suppose you’ll never be sure of the alone part. and yet, as snow blows from the roof of the building and blends into his hair, you can see the way his jaw tightens with every shaken breath, the way his nails dig into his empty palm, the way he bites the inside of his cheek while he looks anywhere but you.

sentences crawl up your throat and die on your tongue—nothing feels quite right. the one right thing, you suppose, about this fucked up afternoon, is the fact that his hand is in yours, and even though he grips onto it after every deep breath, even though his fingers are beginning to feel too cold in this weather, you’re glad that it’s one barrier he’s never bothered to put up. not around you, at least.

and though you’ve never been good at this kind of thing, no matter the cause, and though you can’t even seem to think in full sentences before he makes another movement and another concern breaks to the front of your skull, the words i’m sorry seem to spill out in a rushed whisper before you can even begin to stop them.

a humorless breath escapes his lips, and because it’s december 24th and because it’s damn freezing, you watch as it disperses into the air.

“not like you could’ve stopped it,” he says, his head falling to hang near his legs. these stone stairs are beginning to feel far too cold against your legs. “i sure as hell couldn’t.”

you don’t point out the way he clears his throat after that last comment, nor the way he shifts in his spot where he sits, bringing a fist up to mouth and tensing his jaw against his knuckles.

silence passes over the two of you again, only the whistle of the wind to hold both of you to the moment. you look at the ground that lies ahead of you, choosing to not look at him for any longer. at some point, it felt like you were invading his space more than you were keeping a careful eye on him. yet as you look away, you feel him lean further into you. he doesn’t turn towards you, doesn’t even change the way he grips onto your hand, it’s only the feeling of his shoulder trying to close a non-existent gap between yours. and as though you know the motion, you bring your free hand up and across your body, resting gentle fingers on his shoulder, tracing the seams of his jacket.

and you hate this. all of it. the fact that good people are forced to do bad things, the fact that good people succumb to darkness, the fact that people are born with fate placed into their hands until it scorches their skin with its misfortune. neither of you chose this, neither of you woke up and wanted to save people from damnation. and yet, here you both are, guardians of a world that had never asked for such a thing.

but you’re not even angry. no, the claws that scratch and tighten at your throat are a different kind of pain—and it tastes an awful lot like being lost and defeated. so you don’t even think before you say it, the syllables being crushed beneath the pressure of tears that threaten to spill over, as though your body was trying to fight back against your soul.

“do you wanna get out of here?”

he looks up then, watching the same spot on the ground that you are, and accepts it when you lay your head against his shoulder. you feel him lean until his head rests atop yours, anyway. maybe it’s something you both needed.

“where would we even go?” he asks, but the question falls flat. he’s not expecting an answer, not to this one or any other question that you know is swimming in that head of his.

“somewhere,” you begin, “anywhere,” you add, because you’re starting to think that any place might work better than this.

“sounds nice, doesn’t it?” there’s a strain to his voice, cracks in the vowels that sound so foreign against his usual tone. he’s trying to smile—you can feel the way it wavers against you. “somewhere warm, maybe. what’d nanami say? malaysia?”

“malaysia,” you hum, and take a breath, letting your eyes close for only a moment. “he might kill us if we follow him there.”

“then hawaii, maybe,” he replies. he sounds steadier now, but there’s a gruffness to his voice that feels so displaced, a certain sorrowful fall in his tone.

“hawaii,” you agree anyway.

and both of you know that you’ll never get to hawaii, because as you look straight ahead, allowing your gazes to fall on the horizon, and you realize you’re both facing the first-year dorms.

“we’ll never leave, will we?” it’s meant to be a question, but there’s a sigh in how you say it. through the lights of the windows, you can see two first-years walk together through the halls.

“no, doll,” he whispers, “i don’t think we will.” he grips your hand. once, and then twice, and then a third time. you feel something drip onto the top of your head, and you don’t have to look to know what it is.

“can’t let one of them end like he did,” he says with a final breath, a shake to his voice, and a final squeeze to the hand that lays in his.

[by-moonflower-deactivated202401]

let me hold you

▸ gojo satoru x reader

▸ 1.5k words

▸ established relationship, hurt/comfort, loads of comfort fluff, slight angst

▸ alternatively titled “i’d rather my hugs stop your tears than solve global warming!”

gojo tries to comfort you, despite believing himself to be quite bad at it

gojo isn’t good at dealing with tense atmospheres. the air becomes too stuffy and it feels like the walls are caving in. it makes him want to desperately crack a window open just to let some fresh air in, like it could somehow wash away the heaviness looming over. he knows he’s not all that claustrophobic though, just unwilling to deal with such situations.

but when you come home one night looking obviously down in the dumps—his usual, cheery “welcome home!” met with only a weak hum—gojo finds himself perplexed. he’s not the kind of person to know exactly what to do to make someone feel better. it’s too tricky for him to navigate and too complicated to think about.

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