itadorable

i post stuff!

[rosezsq]

Intro...I rhink

hi guys i made a sideblog to actually start posting and being annoying about my favourite characters

im new to actually posting on here...so idrk how to start but wtv, hi!!

i'll probably just post snippets of fanfics or headcanons, or random drabbles about whatever fandom i'm fixated on...so moot me up guys

[blondgir1]

i think they deserve one good day actually

gege when i catch you

[benevolentely]

top toge and top megumi where are you

[rosezsq]

Premise/draft for my Fushiita fic I can hardly be assed to write

What kind of life have you lived if you have never loved?

To love is a weapon, a blade you hand to your executioner, asking for nothing less than to feel it dragged through the depths of your chest.

Love is a danger, in its most natural form. Its habitat is excruciation, the broken walls of a childhood home, the tangled nest of a bird always threatening its leave.

Love is a trap, a fall to your demise, a taped mouth and bound limbs in the hands of your dearest abductor. A wrath you can’t escape, not due to weakness nor impracticality, but to unwillingness.

The binds tightened on your wrists feel like silk when tied by the right person. An instinct to escape lies beneath the pleasure in every glance, every touch, every burning desire they feed.

The taste of honey on your lips. Thick, golden, and obscene, mixed with the salt of semen, warm from the source. A feverish greed to consume, to swallow, to never stop.

It’s all he’d want.

If he could want it.

Megumi Fushiguro does not believe in love.

Not truly, or at most, not for himself. There is no space for it in the life he leads, no room between the sacrifice and the certainty of grief. Love is a luxury he cannot ever afford, a distraction that only ends in the lined bodies of those he cares for. He has long since decided it has no place in his world. Only violence, his own duty, and just maybe the quietening idea of an ending that might finally protect everyone else.

And yet.

He still crawls willingly toward ruin.

He’d taken the hands of his imprisoner to wear like gloves, only to cage himself with them upon his own silent request. Because no matter how fiercely he refuses to name it, no matter how desperately he insists there is no place for it-

Love frightened him more than violence ever had. As much as both demanded surrender, only one could ever disguise itself as mercy, and have everyone be a fool to it.

Sacrifice had always come easily to him. Love demands the same price and offers the same hollow reward; something close enough to resemble relief.

In death, Fushiguro thought relief might finally exist, one option among a platter of selfishness and perseverance, in the form of a quieter ending for those around him, in the form of safety. Death may very well have been his best chance at it. 

After the events of Shibuya - Fushiguro spent seven days alone. Without Gojo, without Kugisaki, and without Itadori. In those seven days, a terrifying demise had dawned on him.

The fact that his first waking hours after near-death had been spent searching for someone unsettled him more than the injuries ever did. What could it possibly mean for him to so frantically seek out another’s presence? Hardly for any important outcome, only for the sheer lightness that comes with that person?

Because at first it wasn’t even about Tsumiki. The moment he woke up with hardly-healed injuries and indescribable exhaustion, and before any which news had been announced to him about Noritoshi or Tsumiki, his first thought was Itadori.

Disgustingly, guiltily and with all afforded refusal, it was Itadori.

So beneath rubble and ruin, Fushiguro disguised the search as practicality. Help for Tsumiki. Help for victims of the games. Help for anything but the sickening fear he holds over nothing but the pure and intangible outcome that Itadori might be gone. 

Not even from life, no, he knew better than to even think that. But from his reach.

That itself was enough to make his stomach churn.

But Fushiguro didn’t ask for help, and so beneath every ounce of dismissal, there was shame, and a weak feeling in his legs.

For Fushiguro loved Itadori.

Much more than he could understand.

[sukunastoenailclippings]

ohh the hand wrap around that whole wrist

[kitocrystal]

Love bites

[rosezsq]

give me ideas for fanfics plz. im so lost

[thearinexus]

Okay but…Megumi with Ablutophobia because of the trauma soul subjugation ritual bath…I need an angst Megumi x reader fic of this concept IMMEDIATELY

[darling-devil2099]

Nobara is so tired of them

[rosezsq]

softlaunching Fushiita to my diehard phonklistening dudebro brother just for him to agree with me straight up like okay respect

[aliqqce]

They deserved more screen time together

[itadoriahh]

a pic from yuuji’s camera roll <3 little harder to look back on after shibuya but he can’t bring himself to delete it (it’d be like losing them all over again)

[rosezsq]

description was NOT necessary 😭😭😭😭😭

[rosezsq]

ALSO that car mechanic fic i started i WILL be fixing and uploading it i just had a major flip out after i posted and thought it sucked. so im gonna go through and edit and hopefully it’ll come back better

[rosezsq]

wait i wanna do those like ‘texts with blah blah” stories but itafushi

[rosezsq]

Itafushi but its the idea that Yuji would know Megumi better than he knows himself. Megumi denies himself of so much that he hardly understands what he really wants, and so every time Yuji cooks for him, makes him coffee, holds him, touches him, it scratches a spot he wouldn’t know how to find himself

[rosezsq]

i think megumi and yuji would be the kind of boys blessed with the best and clearest and smoothest baby skin ever without ever using anything other than water, nobara would despise them both for it

[rosezsq]

wait actually deadass i think megumi would secretly have a whole ass routine and would still just tell nobara its ‘genetics’

[yotume]

Thanks for the request.