✿ marie ✿ welcome to my little island blog
favourite drink: sakura latte ✿ favourite villager: hajime kashimo
jjk centric blog ✿ side blog: @chosovelle
find my master list here ✿

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YOU ARE THE REASON
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@kashibunnie
✿ marie ✿ welcome to my little island blog
favourite drink: sakura latte ✿ favourite villager: hajime kashimo
jjk centric blog ✿ side blog: @chosovelle
find my master list here ✿
Kashimo reluctantly joins you on a trip to the beach
Hajime decides, almost immediately, that the beach is hostile terrain. The sun is too bright—an oppressive, relentless thing that presses against his skin like a challenge. The sand shifts under his feet, unstable, irritating. The ocean roars endlessly in the distance, loud and arrogant, as if daring him to respond. He clicks his tongue. “This place is noisy,” he says.
You grin, dropping your bag onto the sand and kicking off your sandals. “That’s the ocean.” You glance back at him. He’s standing stiffly near the shore, arms crossed, blue eyes narrowed beneath the glare of the Hawaiian sun. His cyan hair catches the light like live wire, and for a split second you worry—irrationally—that he might actually electrocute the sea out of spite.
“Tch. Figures.”
You walk over and shove a bottle into his chest. “Sunscreen.”
He looks down at it like you’ve handed him poison. “Why.”
“So you don’t get burned.”
“I don’t burn.”
“Everyone burns.”
He scoffs. “I wield lightning.”
“And yet,” you say sweetly, popping the cap, “you still have skin.” He glares—but doesn’t move away as you squeeze the cool lotion into your hands. When you step closer, he stiffens, shoulders tense, clearly unsure what to do with himself. You reach up and start rubbing sunscreen into his arms, then his shoulders. The corded muscles tense as your fingers glide over his skin, coming to rest at the lighting marks etched there. They branch from the center of his spine, just below the nape of his neck, spreading outward in sharp, jagged lines—thin at first, then widening as they travel across his shoulder blades and down toward his ribs. The pattern isn’t symmetrical, and that makes it feel alive, as if the lightning chose its own path rather than following a design. Stubborn and enduring, like the man himself.
“…You’re awfully calm,” he mutters.
“You’re awfully loud,” you reply.
That earns a huff of reluctant amusement.
The ocean claims its first victory less than ten minutes later. Hajime strides straight into the water like he’s approaching an enemy camp, eyes locked on the waves. He plants his feet as a swell rushes toward him. You barely have time to shout, “Wait—!” The wave crashes into him, sweeping his legs out from under him and sending him straight onto his back. Water splashes everywhere. When he resurfaces, hair plastered to his face, eyes wide with pure offense, you double over laughing.
“That—” he sputters, coughing, “—was a cheap shot.”
You wipe tears from your eyes. “You challenged the ocean.”
“It answered.”
He storms back toward you, dripping wet, sand clinging to his clothes, lightning crackling faintly at his fingertips. For a terrifying half-second, you think he’s going to do something unwise. Instead, he stops in front of you, stares out at the water, and mutters, “…I’ll win next time.” You laugh again.
Later, you rope him into beach volleyball with a group of locals. He claims he doesn’t know the rules. This becomes immediately irrelevant when he spikes the ball so hard it nearly tears through the air.
Everyone freezes.
You grab his arm. “No cursed energy!”
“I wasn’t—”
“Hajime.”
He sighs, exaggerated and long-suffering, but reins it in. Mostly. Despite himself, he starts to enjoy it. The movement. The laughter. The fact that winning here doesn’t mean killing someone. When the game ends, he’s grinning—actually grinning—before he catches himself and looks away. You don’t call him out on it. By late afternoon, the beach thins out. The sun dips lower, softer now, painting the sky in warm golds and oranges. You lay out a towel and flop down onto it, staring up at the clouds. Hajime hesitates… then sits beside you. After a moment, he lies back too, hands folded behind his head, eyes closed. For once, there’s no tension in his body. No readiness to strike. The waves roll in and out, steady and endless.
“This,” he says quietly, “is strange.”
You turn your head to look at him. “In a bad way?”
“…No.” A pause. “In a way I don’t recognize.”
You shift closer, resting your head against his arm. He tenses for half a second—then relaxes, letting you stay.
“I’ve spent my whole life chasing strength,” he continues. “Every moment was about the next fight. The next opponent.”
“And now?”
He exhales slowly. “Now I’ve gone an entire day without wanting to fight.”
You smile. The sun finally kisses the horizon, the sky igniting in color. Hajime opens his eyes and watches it in silence, blue gaze reflecting fire and sea. The warm sea breeze ruffles his hair, and he sighs, breathing in the salt of the sea. You can’t help but stare at him, lost in the serenity of lying beside him in quiet solitude.
After a long moment, he reaches for your hand. It’s awkward. Hesitant. Like he’s afraid the moment might vanish if he grips too tightly.
“If this is peace,” he says, voice low, honest, “I don’t hate it.”
Your fingers lace with his. The ocean roars on—but for once, Hajime doesn’t answer its challenge. He just stays there with you, lightning quiet, heart steady, watching the day end. And when the sun disappears completely, he doesn’t let go.
| this little drabble has just been sitting in my drafts 😭 thought i’d just go ahead and post it. might be ooc kashimo
sitting in your shared bedroom, staring down at kashimo, slightly glaring at him. he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, a stoic look on his face. you’re standing in front of him between his legs, arms crossed in front of your chest. you two just had a small argument, nothing serious but it was enough for you be lecturing him about it.
you’ve been going on and on for a good few minutes now and he sorta just wants you both to move past this. just wants you to pamper him and play with his hair but he won’t admit that though. it’s a good thing he knows exactly how to get back on your good side.
hands moving to your hips, he pulls you towards him. going quiet at this very sudden and unexpected action, you stumble a bit, your hands reach out to grab at his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles from all the hard training and many fights. your head tilts slightly to the side, brows furrowing.
letting his hands rest on your hips for a few seconds, squeezing softly. your face is starting to feel warm, but you don’t stop him from whatever he’s doing. you want to see where this goes. feeling one hand slowly travel down to the back of your thigh, goosebumps following wherever they go. he stops right at the crease where your ass meets your thigh, giving it a few soft squeezes while his other hand travels to your ass.
kashimo’s grip tightens, kneading at the soft flesh. he loves the feeling of your plush skin under his big hands. you go still for a few seconds, eyes widening as you look down at him, “hajime, what are you doing?” voice coming out a bit surprised. you didn’t really expect this from him.
tilting his head slightly to look up at you, he puts on the best puppy eyes, lips pushing into a little pout. he lets out a quiet, “i’m sorry for upsetting you.” it’s like he’s suddenly turned very meek, a side of him you don’t get to see often.
staring down at him, the look on your face softening. one of your hands moves to rest at the crook of his neck, your thumb moving softly up and down against his skin. you really just can’t stay mad at him when he’s like this. you’ve basically forgiven him for whatever he’s done, you can’t remember anymore.
it’s like he knows you have a soft spot for this sorta submissive side of him that you rarely get to see. and you really can’t complain because he looks so pretty like this.
need some kashimo fic ideas, i’ve gone dry ☹️
spending a stormy late afternoon with hajime 🌩️
the window panes shuddered with a dull roar, the ongoing storm outside threatening to blow rain into your home. your rushed to secure the windows, locking it securely before taking a look outside. gone was the serene twilight hour, replaced by a purple-grey sky that was periodically erupting with waves of thunder and lightning. you weren’t scared of storms, but the sudden darkness and cold made you shiver.
that’s when you felt warm hands brush against your shoulders, pulling your cardigan over you to chase away the cold. hajime had his arms wrapped around you from behind, leaning into your neck and sighing against your ear. no doubt, the observant man must’ve sensed your discomfort and came to silently comfort you. you both watched the storm unfold, the city outside muted—lights blurred, streets empty, everything softened by water.
you turned your head around to peer at hajime’s face. he was watching the clouds intently, his eyes lighting up whenever a spark of lightning danced across the sky. there was something almost reverent in the way he watched it, like the storm was an old friend passing through.
“…you’re enjoying this,” you said quietly. you nuzzled into his chest, finding comfort in his silence. another rumble of thunder followed, closer this time. the windows vibrated softly. hajime clicked his tongue, a small, satisfied sound. “good. it’s been too calm lately.”
he’d been restless all week—too much bottled energy, not enough release. storms grounded him, you’d learned that over time. the electricity in the air matched the one he carried under his skin. eventually, he turned away from the window and dropped onto the couch with a careless thud. the cushions dipped under his weight. you followed him, laying your head on his chest, the beating of his heart mimicking the vibrations of the thunderstorm happening outside.
for a moment, neither of you spoke. you were eager for it to remain like this. hajime was rarely grounded, always buzzing with anticipation and action like the electrical current that surged through his body. his hair was undone, teal waves falling across his face and fanning across his cheekbones. his gaze was on you as he ran his fingers through your hair, chuckling to himself when some strands began to stand on end as the electricity in his fingers danced across your scalp. it was a soothing feeling, tingly and warm, and you felt yourself begin to doze off, his touch calming your body.
rain pattered steadily against the roof. somewhere far away, thunder echoed again, lower this time, like the sky was settling into its rhythm. his gaze drifted back to the window, his arm snaking up and down your spine, tracing the shape of your back. you let your head fall gently against his shoulder with a sigh, prompting him to lean his chin on your head, wrapping you up in his arms closer. his body heat seeped through your clothes, steady and grounding. you could feel the quiet hum of his cursed energy beneath his skin—not aggressive, not restless. just there. present. it was lulling you to sleep.
hajime would never admit it, but he enjoyed these quiet days with you. he was beginning to find comfort in the silence, in the steadiness of your presence, the way your hearts and minds shared everything without so much as a word being spoken. like the quiet hum of electricity coursing through the veins of your home. his usual awkward demeanour was hushed around you, replaced by a man who was grounded, observant and tender.
as the storm began to quiet down and the twilight sky returned to a rosy-pink blush, hajime sighed contently, nuzzling into your hair as he dozed off, the clouds parting to pour warm sunshine through the lovers’ window, warming them as they slept.
author’s note: it’s been raining a lot here with intermittent storms, and i had a dream about kashimo last night so here’s a fic inspired by all this 🫶
| this little drabble has just been sitting in my drafts 😭 thought i’d just go ahead and post it. might be ooc kashimo
sitting in your shared bedroom, staring down at kashimo, slightly glaring at him. he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, a stoic look on his face. you’re standing in front of him between his legs, arms crossed in front of your chest. you two just had a small argument, nothing serious but it was enough for you be lecturing him about it.
you’ve been going on and on for a good few minutes now and he sorta just wants you both to move past this. just wants you to pamper him and play with his hair but he won’t admit that though. it’s a good thing he knows exactly how to get back on your good side.
hands moving to your hips, he pulls you towards him. going quiet at this very sudden and unexpected action, you stumble a bit, your hands reach out to grab at his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles from all the hard training and many fights. your head tilts slightly to the side, brows furrowing.
letting his hands rest on your hips for a few seconds, squeezing softly. your face is starting to feel warm, but you don’t stop him from whatever he’s doing. you want to see where this goes. feeling one hand slowly travel down to the back of your thigh, goosebumps following wherever they go. he stops right at the crease where your ass meets your thigh, giving it a few soft squeezes while his other hand travels to your ass.
kashimo’s grip tightens, kneading at the soft flesh. he loves the feeling of your plush skin under his big hands. you go still for a few seconds, eyes widening as you look down at him, “hajime, what are you doing?” voice coming out a bit surprised. you didn’t really expect this from him.
tilting his head slightly to look up at you, he puts on the best puppy eyes, lips pushing into a little pout. he lets out a quiet, “i’m sorry for upsetting you.” it’s like he’s suddenly turned very meek, a side of him you don’t get to see often.
staring down at him, the look on your face softening. one of your hands moves to rest at the crook of his neck, your thumb moving softly up and down against his skin. you really just can’t stay mad at him when he’s like this. you’ve basically forgiven him for whatever he’s done, you can’t remember anymore.
it’s like he knows you have a soft spot for this sorta submissive side of him that you rarely get to see. and you really can’t complain because he looks so pretty like this.
This is my gift to all the Kashimo fans on here
If there are any
赤い薔薇 — red roses
florist!choso x reader ✿ sfw
you began to notice the roses appearing on the florists’ counter a few days ago. whenever you went to collect your order, a single red rose would be sitting in a pristine vase, a wine-red ribbon adorning the neck of the glass. the florists’ cheeks were a similar colour, blushing a furious deep red as he nervously packaged up your order. your best friend has been recovering from an illness at the local hospital, and you made it a habit to gift her a bouquet of beautiful flowers every week to brighten up the dull hospital space she was occupying. you had found the florist shop a few weeks ago, lured in by the beautifully arranged bouquets on display and the faint scent of chamomile and cinnamon tea in the air.
the florist was a young man who spoke and moved like someone older and wiser than he looked. you saw his hands first, large yet surprisingly delicate as he reached out to recommend the right flowers to gift for someone who was recovering from an illness. you never knew flowers had their own language; you watched as the awkward young man suddenly brightened up as he spoke at length about the history of floriography. you couldn’t help but smile warmly; you loved it when people’s passion shone through on their faces. the young man — choso — began to blush furiously as he saw you watching him, apologising for speaking for too long. you simply shook your head and reassured him that you learnt a lot from him. your friend’s illness has been weighing you down a lot lately, and choso’s passionate monologue on the language of flowers was a welcome respite from the stress of being a carer.
one day, you returned to the shop, stumbling through the door with puffy red eyes. you came for your order — it felt impolite to cancel it at short notice, especially as you knew by now of the care and time choso put into arranging your orders. he had rushed to you, his eyes furrowed in worry as he led you to his coffee table, asking what happened. you explained that your friend’s illness had taken a surprise turn for the worse, and she was currently in intensive care. you rambled on and on to him, oblivious to how delirious you looked and sounded. choso simply remained silent, holding your hand in his warm one, circling his thumb on your wrist absentmindedly as he comforted you. he poured you some chamomile tea — “helps to soothe nerves”, he had said — and you drank from it, feeling the effects almost immediately. perhaps it was the placebo effect, or perhaps it was the warmth seeping into your bones from choso’s gentle touch that soothed you almost instantly. you were calmer now, and you managed a small smile as choso held your hand, his hazel eyes as warm and comforting as a summer’s day. you felt your heart flutter as your nerves washed away, surrounded by the scent of flowers.
a few weeks later, you had noticed the pattern of red roses appearing on the florist’s counter. you knew roses were a symbol of romance, of devotion and passion — you looked up meekly at choso as he bound your order in string, his eyebrows furrowed in the ridiculously adorable way they always did when he was concentrating. you felt the warmth in his hand when he passed you the bouquet, and you felt your heart beat faster as he smiled at you, his voice like honey soothing your worn out mind and body. you wondered what it would be like to be wrapped up in those strong arms of his, safe and well — to have an evening of respite, away from the worries of the world, the scent of chamomile filling your nostrils. you wondered what it would be like to wake up to see those hazel eyes adoring you, like liquid nectar. you wondered what those large yet warm hands would feel like on your skin, those kind lips at your throat, tantalising and hazy, murmuring poetry and praises.
“same time next week?” — choso’s voice cut through your daydreams, oblivious to your thoughts. you blushed furiously and nodded, smiling a bit too eagerly at the idea. you looked one last time at the rose on the counter, so delicate and breathtakingly beautiful.
“may i have it?” you ask, your voice small but hopeful. choso smiles at that.
“of course. my gift to you. i hope it reminds you of me.”
CAN MEGUMI FANS CATCH A BREAK FOR ONCE?!? 😭💔
“Will you ever get bored of me?” — jjk men 💭
pairing/characters: jjk men x f!reader | Gojo, Nanami, Itadori, Megumi, Toji, Sukuna synopsis: his reaction when you ask him if he'll ever get bored, tired, or fall out of love with you! cw: smau/chatfic, cussing, suggestive language (Toji & Sukuna), depiction of a toxic relationship (Sukuna), petnames/nicknames (I promise they're not that bad lol), pls pay attention to the timestamps for the Megumi one! It’s relevant to the plot <3 a/n: this was so fun to make, hope you enjoy it! Also, let me know if I should make a part two for more characters, and if so, which ones!
kashimo is easily ragebaited 😂
fun facts about me ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১
(to celebrate 500 followers, thanks guys :3)
ᢉ𐭩 i’m a paramedic & in med school. i could write very gruesome, realistic scenes based on irl experiences but i don’t have the balls to do it. don’t want to scare off casual jjk enjoyers. oh and i hate hate hate doing autopsies.
ᢉ𐭩 i have a border collie. he is trained to perform service dog tasks but doesn’t have an official certificate. he is huge for his breed but his name translates to bug in my language. he attracts a lot of attention and people often take pictures of us without my consent or touch him without even acknowledging me :/. ᢉ𐭩 my irl personality and lore is most similar to megumi & toji. ᢉ𐭩 jjk helps me cope. i was never interested in being “stronger” before kashimo. i often push through difficult things to make him proud. ᢉ𐭩 i don’t drink coffee. my favourite snacks are the chips sold in the country i was born in specifically. i love those chips so much, i travel back to my country from time to time to buy them. ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ i made this moodboard that i think gives off my vibe. all pictures are from pinterest, except the rainforest one, that picture was taken by me.
Kashimo is so fine I need him balls deep in me. It’s not even funny….
୨୧ megumi fushiguro, who loves playing with your pretty tits while fucking you in missionary
───♡─── ───♡─── ───♡───
megumi loves you dearly, but certain parts of you he loves especially.
and not even in a sexual manner, he loves how warm your hands are, how gentle they are as you play with his hair and massage his scalp.
or how soft your lips are when you kiss him lovingly, gentle strokes of your lips on his as he holds onto your full hips. the warm press of your lips on his cheek or forehead as you tell him you love him.
but one thing he loved the most about you was your tits. he doesn’t admit that he’s a boob guy, but you can totally tell. the way he snuggles into your arms after a long day and rests his head against your soft natural pillows. the mindless kneading at your plush breasts as the two of you watch tv on the couch together.
whenever you point out his fascination of your tits, he blushes and denies it, often getting grumpy as you tease him for the obvious lie. you later caught him glancing at your tits in the low tank top you wore after ignoring your attempts to tease him more.
he doesn’t even try to deny it in bed when he finally gets to fuck you, not this time at least. right now, he’s got your wrists pinned above your head with one hand, the other on your hip, occasionally slipping from the small sheen of sweat on your bodies.
his thrusts are tantalizing, each stroke of his hips seeming to hit deeper than the last as you moan out from the fullness of him, tip prodding around your slick insides. “fuck…feel so damn good, baby.” he groaned, his hand gripping your hip tighter. he increased his pace slightly, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps as he let go of your wrists to push his hand into your lower stomach gently as compared to his rough thrusts.
your slick walls clench and spasm around him, growing wetter with every push of his hips. you lean your head back, quick squeals and drawn out groans being pulled from you as he continued to bully his cock into you. he leaned down, pressing his body weight into you as he captured your lips into a sensual kiss. the two of you moaning into each others mouth, completely lost in the pleasure of each other.
loud smacks of your hips colliding filled the room as he pressed harder into your stomach, your eyes fluttering back as he kissed you until you was breathless and dizzy before pulling away. he stared at your fucked out face with a gentle gaze until he noticed your breasts bouncing with each thrust. he felt himself grow impossibly harder at the sight, letting out a shaky low moan before lowering his head once again, letting small kitten licks around your peaks before locking his lips around your nipple. each suckle bringing waves of pleasure crashing through you as he sucked like his life depended on it.
you clenched around him tightly, the dual stimulation making pleasure course through you violently as you grew wetter with each delicious thrust. your responsiveness making him moan and suck harder on your nipple until it was raw and sensitive before giving the same treatment to the other, hips driving into your harder as he nursed your nipples. you moan loudly, whimpers falling from your lips with pleasured gasps as you held onto him. he pulled back, kissing your tits softly before shoving his face between them. “such pretty tits…” he groaned out, a hand kneading one as he faced another. “gonna mark these up, make them mine” he mumbled out, biting down on a boob before licking the bite to soothe the sting
you genuinely feel like you could cum at any second, hard. he’s never been this passionate with you in bed, often soft groans and quiet praise. but this? this was a completely different side of megumi. a very primal and hungry side of him. “fuuuck.. getting so tight sweetheart. practically milking me. you like it when i play with you like this huh? suck on your tits..” he babbled mindlessly, his own orgasm approaching quickly.
you was knocked back into a reality with a harsh squeeze of your boob, eyes refocusing to look up with needy eyes. “answer me.” he demanded, another harsh squeeze on your tender and overused breast. “mmmhpf..love it…love it so much..!” you moaned in a daze, wrapping your legs around his hips as his rhythm faltered, smiling at your answer as he leaned back up to stare down at your tits jolt and bounce in a hypnotic manner.
his hand moved down to rub quick circles on your clit, coaxing a sweet orgasm out of you. "cum for me, sweet girl... cum on my cock... let me feel you... please," he begged, his voice a low, desperate moan. he wanted to feel you come undone, wanted to feel your body quivering against his, hear you moan his name to show how well he’d fucked you. he could feel his own orgasm approaching even faster, could feel the way his cock throbbed inside you, aching for that final push over the edge.
with a loud drawn out moan, your orgasm shattered through you, soaking everything. his thighs, your own thighs, his hips, the sheets, ruined by your juices. megumis hips stuttered a few more times before pushing your thighs up and pulling out, orgasm rippling through him as he shuttered, opting to paint your breasts with him cum instead.
the two of you sat in silence, soft panting filling the room as you both came down from your orgasms. megumi traced his cum into your tits, smiling softly as he smeared it around.hands carefully sprawled the swells of your breasts, admiring his work of bruises, bites, and hickeys he’s left on you. leaning down to softly kiss a bruise that was starting to tenderize.
“…we’re definitely doing that’s again” he mumbled, feeling himself start to stiffen slightly at the sight of the mess he made.
i made a straw.page hehe 🙈 here’s the link, i also linked it on my name in my pinned bio 🫶
pleaseee more of kashimo!! , love your writing btwww🩷
aww thank you! i’ll get round to writing more for him, i promise 🫶
choso headcanons ✿
sfw
✿ choso is an excellent cook; he loves immersing himself in the sensory experience of preparing food and loves to share what he’s made with loved ones. he feels at peace knowing his loved ones are going to bed with a full belly, well fed and taken care of. cooking is his love language; he’ll learn your favourite meals and desserts and spend time perfecting them so he can make them for you.
✿ choso is a light sleeper, and struggles sometimes with insomnia as a result. he has frequent nightmares which trouble him. he’s the type to hate sleeping in the dark, only doing so if someone else is in the room with him. if not, he’ll sleep with low ambient lighting on in the background.
✿ he feels uncomfortable around animals, and is slightly scared of them. dogs and cats are hostile towards him, sensing his non-human presence, and tend to get pretty aggressive around him which freaks him out. he in particular hates cats, after a wild encounter saw a street cat try to attack yuuji which resulted in both brothers getting scratched.
✿ ironically, choso is afraid of the supernatural. he’d rather eat glass than go to a haunted house or watch a scary movie. he is very superstitious as a result, making sure his loved ones wear protective amulets or read certain mantras at all times. in a way, his superstitious beliefs are his way of reassuring himself that his family and friends will be safe when he’s not around, and his rituals help to calm him when his loved ones are away for long periods of time.
✿ his body temperature is always warm, which makes him extra fun to snuggle with <3
✿ he likes to hum to himself, and it becomes a soothing part of your routine when he’s around you a lot.
✿ he loves scalp massages and enjoys the sensation of having your fingers run through his hair. it’s one of the few things that help him doze off quickly, and guarantees him a good night’s sleep.
✿ choso is the type to not swear at all. he’ll dramatically gasp if someone around him swears, and he’ll lecture his brothers if he catches them doing the same. he’s intent on being a good role model for all, and even if he did try to loosen up a bit, he finds that he cannot let foul words roll off his tongue without feeling immensely shameful.