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— currently working on:
‧˚ʚ haunt me (in a nice way) [takuma ino, series, haunted house au!]
‧˚ʚ cult leader!geto x nun!reader au!
‧˚ʚ flor de maracuja [hufflepuff!reader x draco]
‧˚ʚ characters’ love languages [hcs, jjk + hp + others]
‧˚ʚ jjk smaus [social media au, #–𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐬!]
‧˚ʚ hit me hard and soft [billie eilish inspired song fics, jjk]
rambling. bye bye tlou theme!! ‧˚ʚ say hi to jjk! ⋆ ꜝꜞ
inbox/dms/requests always open! i’m happy to chat, but please no traumadumping <3 ask to be a specific anon so i can keep track of who im talking to, while you can keep your anonymity!
about taglists. restarting my tagging list/system! plz send an ask, comment, dm to be added!! 𐦂
about my username. siriusly comes from sirius black, hp. and parker comes for peter parker, spiderverse! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
—halloween hookers and party poopers, rafe cameron.
ʚ warnings: curse words, mentions of date rape + betting + virginity (not by rafe)
ʚ author’s note: i think i wrote this last summer?? i just never finished it, so i added like the last two paragraphs and fixed some mistakes. hope you like it!!
ʚ summary: the last person Rafe expected to come to this halloween party, let alone dressed like that, was his goody two-shoes childhood rival.
ʚ tags: fluff, angst, comfort, halloween, beach, obx, childhood rivals, family friends
ʚ word count: 1.9k
As an unofficial member of the pogues and one of Sarah's most annoying friends, Rafe Cameron didn’t exactly hate her, he mostly just… didn’t really enjoy her presence. She was little miss perfect. She didn’t drink, didn't smoke, didn’t curse. At all. Ever. He, on the other hand, was mean. He was a mess. He was always compared to her during family dinners. And still, she was always nice to him. She always offered a smile. How could she be so stupid? Life would take advantage of her kindness at every chance it got, but she wouldn’t budge. That smile wouldn’t fade and he hated her for it. For doing with such ease something he was unable to do, even if he tried his best. Y/n beat him at everything, and he despised her for being so happy when he stood there so defeated. He hated how everytime his dad complained, she defended him. She didn’t owe the boy anything, they weren’t even friends. She was just that nice. And that’s why when he came to that party, the last person he expected to see dressed as a slut, was her.
“Oh, c’mon! It’s halloween! Live a little!” “I told you already. I don’t drink, Connor.” “Little Miss Perfect doesn't wanna have fun? How unexpected.” he teases, coming closer to the girl, making her hit her back on the counter.
Rafe sits on the couch, only observing the scene from afar. The music was loud and conversations were twisting into each other, but he couldn’t focus on any of it. Nothing could take the boy’s eyes away from her. He didn’t put effort into a costume, so he sat there, against the cold leather of the couch and watched the playbunny-dressed girl laugh.
“She's hot, huh?” Rafe doesn’t move, only hums. Not agreeing, just acknowledging he heard. Kind of. “Perfect Missy here has been betted on all over the place. Twenty bucks each. The first to take the flower takes the cash and the praise.” For the first time since he arrived, he finally looked away. Turning to the boy beside him, he sternly asks: “What?” Kelce’s eyes slightly open in surprise, of all the people there, he didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to care. “Bet still open, you know? You can put a twenty in the pumpkin over there if you mind that much.” Motioning to the plastic bowl with his head. He keeps going, since the other boy doesn’t seem like he’ll answer anytime soon. “Thought you hated her, though?” Rafe hums again, turning back to look at the girl, only now noticing how many boys were really lurking around.
Why her? Every girl there was dressed like a whore so why her? The answer was simple. The answer was awful: She had the “innocent and cute virgin” appeal. Good girl gone bad. That’s what excited these little boys that much; who would be the one to brag about it. Who would make her the porn star they all dreamed of.
Rafe wasn’t a saint. For God’s sake he was the devil, but even he knew this was wrong. They all knew. The only person who didn’t seem to actually notice was her.
“My money’s on Beck. Look at the dude, hands on her waist and everything.” Rafe’s still watching, he doesn't do anything. She’s a big girl, she can handle herself. He doesn’t owe her anything, they’re not even friends. “Oh, shit. The guy’s really going for it.” He laughs. “Looks like her ‘waist’ is getting lower and lower. Damn, he’s good.” Okay, that’s enough.
He gets up from his seat, and makes his way to the scene. Without a word, he takes Beck’s hand off of the small of her back. Quickly noticing his presence the wholesome bunny asked: “Oh, hey Rafe! Did you finish your chemistry lab report? I can help you if you need, I know you-” Shutting her up by pulling on her ponytail, something he learnt as a kid, he fakes a smile and takes her by the forearm, taking her away from the conversation without even having the time to politely excuse herself like she usually would.
“I didn’t know it was a secret, I’m sor-” “It’s not.” “Then what’s happening? Why are you mad?” “I’m not.” “You are.” “I’m not mad.” “Yes, you are. You have your angry face on.” He stops in his tracks and sighs. “I just saw Cody Irvin and Jack Robinson spike your soda and there's more than 200 dollars in that bowl,” He turns her head towards it with his calloused hands. “betted on who would take your virginity. Is that enough for you?” She looks down ashamed as she follows him out of the party. Feeling bad for taking his anger out on her, he mutters out his best attempt at comforting the girl. “It’s not your fault.” “I’m the one dressed like a fucking hooker.” He chuckles at the sudden language and absurdity of it all, but ends up asking the question he was holding back since he walked through the door: “Why?” “Sarah’s idea…” “Of course.” “But now she’s with John B, and Kiara's with Nat, and I'm all alone. It was supposed to be a group costume.... I feel so stupid.” If it wasn’t for their newfound distance from the party, he hardly could’ve caught the last part she whispered. But he wanted her to know that he did, so he managed a little “Don’t.”
Finally in front of his stupid truck, everything gets blurry with her realization of the situation and tears start to roll down her face. He doesn’t know what to do. But she looks so alone. She looks so tiny and sad. So he hugs her. He’s not very good at it. But he hugs her. For once, he wished he wasn’t so tall or so strong or so much bigger. She didn’t need a big man to defend her right now, she needed a good friend, someone who wouldn’t break her at the slightest touch. Barely touching her, he takes her in between his arms so she can cry it all out. As the pink button up gets wetter, the boy gets more comfortable. Back leaning on his car door, Rafe caresses her hair, as gently as he knew how. Her breathing gets more even and she looks up at him with teary eyes. “Can you bring me to the beach?” He nods.
Like the gentleman he usually isn’t, Rafe opens the car door for her and fastens her seatbelt, as if she didn’t know how. She looked so miserable that even after all these years of bickering, all he wanted was to take care of her frale little self.
The car ride was peaceful. No music, no talking, no crying. Just the wind on her face. He took small opportunities to look at her when she closed her eyes for a while. She had a little smile on her face and he didn’t wanna miss it. Ever since she was little, she had always liked to ride with the window open. As a child, Rafe thought it was stupid and that she looked like a dog. Tonight, Rafe thought she looked beautiful.
“Stay here.” He tells her as he gets out of the car. It’s not like she’d ever dare budge anyway, she knew better than to disobey the Cameron boy. The blind spot mirror caught him walking back with blankets and what seemed like clothes. He opens her door and puts the blankets and clothes on her lap. She tilts her head, not really understanding where it all came from. “They’re clean.” She lets out a laugh, and gives him a questioning look again, asking for further explanations. “Sometimes, life is shit. So I kinda run away, and…. I don’t know. I like to have clean clothes ready, I guess.” She nods. “Put that on. I’ll wait over there.” She waited a bit more, as if to tell him there was something still missing. She liked how sometimes she didn't have to talk and he would just understand. Rolling his eyes, he finally answers: “And I won’t look.” She smiles as he walks away.
Shielded of potential stalkers by Rafe’s car door, she started by putting on the t-shirt he gave. Per usual, a million thoughts were running through her head, but the mess suddenly stopped at— Percy Jackson? Was she wearing a ‘camp half-blood’ t-shirt? Either he truly forgot or pitied her enough to handle all the teasing that would come from it.
Looking around to make sure her surroundings were clear, she took off her costume under the seemingly giant orange piece of garment with the same technique of a 12 year-old getting ready for gym class. She then put on his sweatpants and rolled the bottoms for what seemed like an eternity, letting her mind wonder about a height difference she got used to over the years.
Rafe used to mock it as a disadvantage she inherited from her ‘weak bloodline’. But that was many years ago, during his reading-the-dictionary-like-Eminem phase where he used his newfound vocabulary to put her down. She never let it get to her though, she knew that her indifference fueled his rage way more efficiently. But an occasional ‘nerd’ mouthed across the table would also do the job.
Her mind wandered through childhood memories and she noticed how things had changed since then. She can’t remember the last time she saw a book in the boy’s hand. Maybe it was at the start of the summer, when he burned his textbooks in a bonfire with his stupid friends. He got quieter too, as if limiting the amount of words he could share with her. She suddenly didn’t deserve his fancy teasing anymore. Or maybe he just got smarter, learned from her years of winning streaks and decided that silence was way harsher than any insult he could come up with. He stopped teasing her height, at least with words, he now took cups from the highest cupboard without even a glance and gave her inexplicably long sweatpants. Maybe that made him even meaner than before, maybe that was all part of his plan. He was in it for the long run. But before she could overthink it more, she heard the devil himself.
“Hey! Stop standing there, dumbass! You’re the one who wanted to come to the beach.” Well, maybe he didn’t get that much smarter.
She quickly closed the door and wrapped herself in the blanket he provided. Running to the safety of the small wooden steps where the boy sat, her feet felt comfort in the contrast of the cold sand in between her toes from the previously painful gravel.
“Better?” “So much better. Percy Jackson is especially comforting for me.” He laughs and rolls his eyes. “I’m trusting you with this information. Don’t make me regret it.” “Me? I’m a saint. I would never. I may keep it for blackmail though.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head in disapproval, as if it would hide his smile. “Tsk-tsk-tsk, shame on you.” Silence settles in between them. Not completely. The whispers of the crashing waves and the singing of the sand underneath their feet spoke the words they would never dare to utter.
“I’ve missed this.” She smiles.
ﾟ+..｡･* (๑ˇεˇ๑) .｡.*☆˚⋆:°*
▾
꩜ i siriusly love you <3
꩜ i’m really not sure if i like this lol, but i hope you guys did! i know i ended it in kind of a cliffhanger so tell me if you really want a part two or if i should leave it up to your imagination!!
Rain pattered softly against the bookstore windows, turning the street outside into a blur of smeared headlights and muted colors. The storm had driven most people indoors, and the shop felt unusually quiet because of it. Warm light spilled from hanging lamps overhead, illuminating rows of bookshelves that seemed to stretch endlessly into the back of the store. It was the sort of afternoon that made you want to lose track of time among the stacks.
You had already spent nearly an hour wandering through the aisles, a growing collection of books tucked securely against your chest. You should have gone to the register twenty minutes ago. Instead, you found yourself drifting back toward the fiction section one last time, telling yourself you were only looking.
That was when you saw it.
Your favorite novel.
Not just any copy, either—the special edition you’d been searching for ever since it had gone out of stock at every bookstore near you.
Your heart immediately skipped.
There was only one left.
Trying not to get your hopes up, you stepped closer and reached toward the shelf.
Another hand reached for it at the exact same time.
Your fingers brushed.
The contact lasted less than a second, but both of you froze as though you’d accidentally startled each other.
“Oop, sorry!”
The apology left your mouth at the same moment another voice said, “Sorry.”
The stranger standing across from you blinked too. For a brief second, neither of you seemed to know what to do next.
Then, despite yourself, you laughed.
The boy opposite you looked momentarily caught off guard by the sound.
He was tall, with dark, unruly hair that framed a surprisingly handsome face. His expression was reserved, almost stoic, but there was something unexpectedly gentle in his eyes as they met yours. Not shy exactly. Just quiet. Like he preferred observing people to speaking to them.
“Looks like we had the same idea,” you said, glancing toward the book still sitting between you.
His gaze followed yours before returning to your face.
“Seems like it.”
His voice was calm and low, carrying none of the awkwardness currently tying your thoughts into knots.
You were suddenly very aware of the warmth lingering in your fingertips from where you’d touched him. Which was ridiculous. It had been an accident. Nothing more.
“You can take it,” he said after a moment.
You frowned. “What?”
“The book.”
He gestured toward the shelf.
“You saw it first.”
“I’m pretty sure we reached for it at the same time.” He argued.
“Still.”
The simplicity of the offer surprised you.
Most people would’ve at least pretended to argue over it.
“You wanted it too, though.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll survive.”
The deadpan delivery caught you off guard enough to make you laugh again.
A faint look of confusion crossed his face, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what had been funny.
“Wow,” you said. “Such bravery. Such sacrifice.”
“I know.”
His expression remained perfectly serious. That only made it funnier.
For the first time, the corner of his mouth twitched.
The smile was so brief you almost thought you’d imagined it. Something about that tiny expression felt oddly rewarding, like spotting a rare animal that immediately vanished back into the woods.
As your laughter faded, your eyes caught sight of the book tucked beneath his arm.
You paused.
“Wait.”
His brows lifted slightly.
“Is that…?”
You pointed toward the cover.
“The author’s other novel?”
He glanced down. “…Yeah.”
“No way!” Your eyes widened.
Now he looked genuinely confused.
“What?”
“You’ve actually read that one?”
“Yes.”
“Nobody reads that one.”
“I did.”
You stared at him. He stared back.
“Besides you,” you corrected.
A beat of silence passed.
Then he said, completely serious, “I still don’t know how to answer that.”
The laugh that escaped you this time was impossible to stop.
To your surprise, he didn’t look annoyed.
If anything, he looked thoughtful.
As though he was trying to understand why hearing you laugh felt strangely satisfying.
Megumi wasn’t usually someone who lingered in conversations with strangers. Most interactions lasted a few polite exchanges before he found an excuse to leave. Yet instead of ending the conversation, he found himself asking what your favorite book by the author was. Then another question followed. Then another.
Before either of you realized it, nearly half an hour had passed.
Somehow you had both ended up sitting on the floor between two shelves, surrounded by stacks of novels. The forgotten special edition rested beside you while the conversation wandered from favorite characters to heartbreaking endings and books that had left you staring blankly at a wall after finishing them.
The strangest part was how easy it felt.
At first Megumi’s answers had been short and cautious, but every now and then you’d catch a glimpse of the person hiding beneath the reserved exterior. A sarcastic comment. A dry observation. An unexpectedly passionate opinion about a character. Each discovery felt like finding another piece of a puzzle.
And every time you laughed, he found himself wanting to hear it again.
That realization should have concerned him more than it did.
Eventually, an announcement over the store speakers informed customers that the shop would be closing soon.
You both blinked, startled back to reality.
“Seriously?” you said, glancing toward the front of the store. “We’ve been here that long?”
“Apparently.”
You stood, gathering your books into your arms. Megumi rose beside you, picking up the novel he’d brought with him.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Then he looked down at the special edition resting beside your stack.
“You should take it.”
You opened your mouth to argue.
His expression immediately told you it would be pointless.
“You already gave up your chance once.”
“And I’m doing it again.”
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself, and carefully added the book to your pile.
Together, you started toward the register.
The rain outside had softened to a drizzle by the time you reached the front of the store. After checking out, you lingered awkwardly near the entrance, neither of you seeming particularly eager to leave.
You adjusted your grip on the shopping bag.
“Well,” you said. “Thanks for the book.”
Megumi nodded. “You’re welcome.”
A brief silence settled between you.
Then, unexpectedly, he spoke again. “Actually,”
You looked up.
For the first time all afternoon, he seemed uncertain.
His hand rubbed lightly at the back of his neck.
“If you have any recommendations…”
You blinked.
“…Recommendations?”
“For books.”
The faintest hint of pink touched the tips of his ears.
“And maybe…” He glanced at the special edition in your bag before meeting your eyes again. “One day you could tell me if it was worth giving that book up.”
Your smile grew immediately.
“Are you asking for my number?”
Megumi looked away for half a second.
“Yes.”
The answer was so honest that you couldn’t help laughing.
This time, when he smiled, it lasted.
You pulled out your phone.
“I think I can give you a few recommendations.”
A few minutes later, with your numbers exchanged and a growing list of books already being debated between you, the two of you stepped out into the cool evening air.
The rain had nearly stopped.
As you headed in opposite directions, your phone buzzed.
You glanced down.
Unknown Number: Don’t recommend anything with a tragic ending.
A second message appeared almost immediately.
Unknown Number: Actually, never mind. You probably will anyway.
Your grin widened and you typed back as you walked.
You: You’re learning already.
And for the first time in a long while, Megumi found himself looking forward to the next chapter.
part i. the departure | part ii. the emptiness | part iii. the return
Coming soon… {fluff, angst, heian era sukuna, sfw}
Feared by the entire Heian court, Ryomen Sukuna has never needed anyone. Not loyalty. Not companionship. Certainly not love.
Then his wife leaves the palace.
After a public insult and a silence that wounds deeper than cruelty, she departs for her family estate in the mountains, leaving behind cold chambers, darkened corridors, and a husband too proud to ask her to stay.
What begins as restrained correspondence soon becomes something far more dangerous: longing sharpened into ink. Through bitter letters, sleepless nights, and an increasingly unbearable absence, Sukuna finds himself haunted not by enemies or war—but by empty rooms, untouched bedding, and the sound of footsteps that no longer echo through the east wing.
As winter settles over the palace, the strongest curse in history is forced to confront the one thing he has never known how to survive:
being alone.
comment to be tagged! ⋆˙⟡ ⋆.˚ ⊹₊⋆ .☘︎ ݁˖ masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
ʚ tags. fem!reader, suggestiveness, aged up characters, brief mention of calories (no numbers, just toji in his gym bro era), angsty fluff (megumi), yandere yuuta??, but overall just stupid crack tbh lol
ʚ including. gojo, yuuta, toji, megumi
GOJO! “And I could never get enough / I could buy her so much stuff / It's a craving, not a crush”
YUUTA! “Baby, I think you were made for me / Somebody write down the recipe”
TOJI! “Been trying hard not to overeat / You're just so sweet”
MEGUMI! “I've said it all before, but I'll say it again / I'm interested in more than just being your friend”
ʚ next time. nanami, toge, nobara, sukuna, yuuji, ino, more?
꩜ likes, comments + reblogs are very appreciated!!
‧₊ ♪˚⊹ “something is rotten inside of me, i have to find it and cut it out” - house song, searows ♬⋆.˚
small yuuji itadori wip i wrote a long time ago about the sleepless nights of sharing his body with a demon he must endure.
જ⁀➴ ROTTEN.
It’s two in the morning when Yuuji wakes up panting and heaving and just trying to remember how to breathe. He’s alone and scared and it’s dark and there’s something inside of him that doesn’t belong there.
It’s not the first time he notices the foreign feeling inhabiting his beaten body. Sukuna had settled, somewhere inside of the teenage boy, a while ago now. Yuuji knows the demon inside of him is awake. It always it. He knows the curse has made a home out of his cuts and bruises. He’s used to it. But sometimes, he just can’t stand it.
The feeling that something, or someone, is camping out in his veins makes him want to vomit. Maybe if he scratches his skin deep enough he’ll find what was once a man and is now simply a parasite.
Perhaps, it’s behind his eyes. If he takes them out, maybe the restless insects crawling inside him will break free of his feeble form. Or if he rips his guts out, the feeling will just go away. But it won’t. Because it’s everywhere.
Take it out. Take it out. Take it out!
Yuuji screams, and he begs, and no one hears. He’s bleeding. Did he actually scratch his skin? Sukuna’s quiet. He’s deep inside, and without a big laughing mouth forming into the boy’s cheek, there’s no evidence he was ever there at all.
Its easy to get paranoid at 2 AM. But there’s something inside. He can feel it. He can’t find it.
Strands of hair lay on the floor, ripped out in some hope of relief. It did nothing.
His room is big. Too big. Should he go outside? Get underneath his blankets? He just wants to be hugged. Does he need pressure or space? It doesn’t matter. Take it off. Just take it the fuck off. The skin. Rip it off.
Strokes of raised red skin fill Itadori’s body. He hugs himself. Grounds himself. Makes sure he doesn’t let go by anchoring his nails into his back. His shirt will be stained. No. It’s somewhere on the ground, ripped apart amidst the confusion.
If Yuuji screams, will someone hear? The demon inside him will. But he won’t show up. He won’t make fun of the boy. He won’t give him the satisfaction. He’ll stay put, somewhere, and silently watch as he falls apart.
If he screams loud enough will the thoughts disappear? Will his throat be so dry it won’t be habitable anymore?
What if he’s not somewhere, but everywhere? What if they share everything? What if their minds and body are truly the same? All of the time. What if-
Take it out. Rip it out. Cut it out.
If half of Yuuji is that thing, then cut every single one of his cells in half and dispose of anything that feels wrong.
Yuuji will not share his body with a demon. No matter his grade. The King of Curses only lives because he allows it. When every corrupted piece of him is retrieved, when Yuuji’s strong enough to contain all of his wickedness, all will be over. He will finally rest. Rotting in the ground, yet in peace, and finally, alone.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹ “something is rotten inside of me, i have to find it and cut it out” - house song, searows ♬⋆.˚
small yuuji itadori wip i wrote a long time ago about the sleepless nights of sharing his body with a demon he must endure.
જ⁀➴ ROTTEN.
It’s two in the morning when Yuuji wakes up panting and heaving and just trying to remember how to breathe. He’s alone and scared and it’s dark and there’s something inside of him that doesn’t belong there.
It’s not the first time he notices the foreign feeling inhabiting his beaten body. Sukuna had settled, somewhere inside of the teenage boy, a while ago now. Yuuji knows the demon inside of him is awake. It always it. He knows the curse has made a home out of his cuts and bruises. He’s used to it. But sometimes, he just can’t stand it.
The feeling that something, or someone, is camping out in his veins makes him want to vomit. Maybe if he scratches his skin deep enough he’ll find what was once a man and is now simply a parasite.
Perhaps, it’s behind his eyes. If he takes them out, maybe the restless insects crawling inside him will break free of his feeble form. Or if he rips his guts out, the feeling will just go away. But it won’t. Because it’s everywhere.
Take it out. Take it out. Take it out!
Yuuji screams, and he begs, and no one hears. He’s bleeding. Did he actually scratch his skin? Sukuna’s quiet. He’s deep inside, and without a big laughing mouth forming into the boy’s cheek, there’s no evidence he was ever there at all.
Its easy to get paranoid at 2 AM. But there’s something inside. He can feel it. He can’t find it.
Strands of hair lay on the floor, ripped out in some hope of relief. It did nothing.
His room is big. Too big. Should he go outside? Get underneath his blankets? He just wants to be hugged. Does he need pressure or space? It doesn’t matter. Take it off. Just take it the fuck off. The skin. Rip it off.
Strokes of raised red skin fill Itadori’s body. He hugs himself. Grounds himself. Makes sure he doesn’t let go by anchoring his nails into his back. His shirt will be stained. No. It’s somewhere on the ground, ripped apart amidst the confusion.
If Yuuji screams, will someone hear? The demon inside him will. But he won’t show up. He won’t make fun of the boy. He won’t give him the satisfaction. He’ll stay put, somewhere, and silently watch as he falls apart.
If he screams loud enough will the thoughts disappear? Will his throat be so dry it won’t be habitable anymore?
What if he’s not somewhere, but everywhere? What if they share everything? What if their minds and body are truly the same? All of the time. What if-
Take it out. Rip it out. Cut it out.
If half of Yuuji is that thing, then cut every single one of his cells in half and dispose of anything that feels wrong.
Yuuji will not share his body with a demon. No matter his grade. The King of Curses only lives because he allows it. When every corrupted piece of him is retrieved, when Yuuji’s strong enough to contain all of his wickedness, all will be over. He will finally rest. Rotting in the ground, yet in peace, and finally, alone.
I can’t stop thinking about nun!reader x cult leader!geto 😫😫 idk i just want stories about that dynamic so baaaaad 😭🙏 (if you do get inspired to write your own, plz credit me for the au!)
i just need to get some of it out of my chest so i can finally continue my homework 😭 so this was written FAST and it’s not much, but it’s a start. maybe i can make this a au! with other stories? plz plz plz fill my asks with requests and your own little cult leader!getou x nun!reader fantasies 🛐 plz and thank you 🛐
cult leader!geto who praises you for being such a devoted follower.
nun!reader who wants nothing but to be a good enough disciple for master geto to notice.
nun!reader worshipping the ground he walks on.
cult leader!geto who knows that and uses it to his advantage.
nun!reader who begs her leader for forgiveness whenever she does anything remotely imperfect.
cult leader!geto who gets weirdly turned on by her tears. maybe it was from knowing he had so much power over her. how much she trusted and worshipped him. how he practically owned her…
cult leader!geto who shuts down any rumors and reprimands other nuns for talking behind your back and insinuating favouritism (though there definitely was).
nun!reader who constantly gets down on her knees for cult leader!getou, without knowing the true effect it has on him.
cult leader!geto who creates alternate passages and spots for you to explore in the convent and kill time during the long and mostly boring days.
nun!reader who gets confused when places she has been to before seem to disappear, but gets overwhelmingly excited when she discovers new ones.
nun!reader who spends her days exploring and roaming instead of praying, not knowing geto is always watching.
nun!reader who feels guilty and spends the night overpraying to the strongest cursed spirits.
cult leader!geto who smirks as he listens to her worshiping and begging.
cult leader!geto who kills and destroys without a second thought, but holds a soft spot for you, his favourite girl.
Just came back from the movies and: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ five fucking stars, 3h of pure madness and badness combination, pure joy, pure beauty, MWUAH I loved ittttttt.
The only times I wanted to roll my eyes and barf was when that little blond locked pink skin son of a caca “spider” was there. He’s just wrong, everything about him is doodoo, I don’t like him, really wished he’d died 🤷♀️ sue me idc. AND he got a kuru?? AND the movie ended with him being accepted by all the ancestors? No thanks, should’ve ended with Jake’s big beautiful yellow eyes opening like the other movies. Every time he opens his mouth, I either don’t care about what he has to say or physically cringe at what comes out. Other than that little monkey shit, MWUAH 😙🤌 masterpiece, so good.
Every other character is amazing. I’m such a Quaritch hater, and even he grew on me this movie (barely, just a little. I liked his fit.) But if he doesn’t die, and comes back to haunt me in the next movies I’m gonna break my fucking monitor. But Lo’ak 🫶 Tsireya 🫶 Tuk 🫶 Jake 🫶 That baddie with the pink Ikran 🫶 Eveyone 🫶 Varang is crazy tho and very evil, but also very sexy. Incredibly distracting. But she’s evil. Very.
jaime lannister through the 5 languages of love ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆
jaime lannister masterlist ૮ ・ﻌ・ა
Words of Affirmation: Under the wisecracker attitude and shiny golden hair, hides a little dyslexic lion that is still insecure of his words. He’s quick with witty remarks, but that’s only because they’re a means to survival. When it comes to honest emotions, he’s clueless. After the death of his mother, there was no one left to care in ways that weren’t disguised in life lessons and crude language. His sister and father insisted on reminding him he was stupid and slow, and for a long time, Tyrion didn’t know how to express his brotherly love either. He was constantly reminded that he wasn’t enough. That was, until you came around. With your gentle praises and admiration, you weren’t shy about your love. It felt foreign at first, but quickly became familiar. He longed to hear your approval at the end of a long day. And soon enough, he started experimenting as well, telling you how pretty you were, how smart, how seen you made him feel. If he wasn’t a fan of words of affirmations before, he was now.
Quality Time: Quality time is hard to come by as a member of the Kingsguard and Tywin Lannister’s first born. But he makes sure to make time for you. There’s nothing Jaime likes more than spending his moments with you, so whenever he could, he would take the missions that meant he would be closest to you. If you were royalty, he’d use his wits and charm to manipulate his way into being your personal guard.
Gift giving: As a Lannister, Jaime is no stranger to piles of unpersonal gifts and being bought. For him, gifts have always felt disingenuous until you first brought him a small craft you made. To think you had spent hours working on something just for him touched a part of his heart that had never seen the light before. He came to grow fond of your little gifts and tried to repay the favour as well with makeshift wildflower bouquets. Yet, he never bought gifts as a means to say sorry, as he wanted you to know he truly meant it.
Acts of Service: Oh don’t get me started, that man is literally a knight, his entire life is acts of services. Though his tongue is often pretty loose, he’s not as good with words as people think. He’s well spoken of course, but when it comes to true feelings, it all gets mixed up in his head. So he shows his affection by helping you around. Any little thing that could make your life easier, he entertains. And tough situations too, he’d go to the ends of the world for you. He just genuinely enjoys helping you in anyway he can.
Physical Touch: Ever since he met you, he can’t help but long to be closer and closer to you, finding any excuse to brush past your warmth. It started with an accidental graze of your soft and cold fingertips on his calloused knuckles. One of the flowers in the wild bouquet you seemed to be making fell onto the castle floors and as you both bent down towards the bundle of forget-me-nots, your hands suddenly collided. It took Jaime by surprise, the way his breath caught up in his throat and his heart skipped a beat under your puppy eyed gaze. After that pleasant incident, the knight couldn’t help but chase the feeling.
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 thank you for reading!! requests are open for my boy jaime! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ join the taglist! ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ .｡✧･ﾟ:*
jaime lannister through the 5 languages of love ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆
jaime lannister masterlist ૮ ・ﻌ・ა
Words of Affirmation: Under the wisecracker attitude and shiny golden hair, hides a little dyslexic lion that is still insecure of his words. He’s quick with witty remarks, but that’s only because they’re a means to survival. When it comes to honest emotions, he’s clueless. After the death of his mother, there was no one left to care in ways that weren’t disguised in life lessons and crude language. His sister and father insisted on reminding him he was stupid and slow, and for a long time, Tyrion didn’t know how to express his brotherly love either. He was constantly reminded that he wasn’t enough. That was, until you came around. With your gentle praises and admiration, you weren’t shy about your love. It felt foreign at first, but quickly became familiar. He longed to hear your approval at the end of a long day. And soon enough, he started experimenting as well, telling you how pretty you were, how smart, how seen you made him feel. If he wasn’t a fan of words of affirmations before, he was now.
Quality Time: Quality time is hard to come by as a member of the Kingsguard and Tywin Lannister’s first born. But he makes sure to make time for you. There’s nothing Jaime likes more than spending his moments with you, so whenever he could, he would take the missions that meant he would be closest to you. If you were royalty, he’d use his wits and charm to manipulate his way into being your personal guard.
Gift giving: As a Lannister, Jaime is no stranger to piles of unpersonal gifts and being bought. For him, gifts have always felt disingenuous until you first brought him a small craft you made. To think you had spent hours working on something just for him touched a part of his heart that had never seen the light before. He came to grow fond of your little gifts and tried to repay the favour as well with makeshift wildflower bouquets. Yet, he never bought gifts as a means to say sorry, as he wanted you to know he truly meant it.
Acts of Service: Oh don’t get me started, that man is literally a knight, his entire life is acts of services. Though his tongue is often pretty loose, he’s not as good with words as people think. He’s well spoken of course, but when it comes to true feelings, it all gets mixed up in his head. So he shows his affection by helping you around. Any little thing that could make your life easier, he entertains. And tough situations too, he’d go to the ends of the world for you. He just genuinely enjoys helping you in anyway he can.
Physical Touch: Ever since he met you, he can’t help but long to be closer and closer to you, finding any excuse to brush past your warmth. It started with an accidental graze of your soft and cold fingertips on his calloused knuckles. One of the flowers in the wild bouquet you seemed to be making fell onto the castle floors and as you both bent down towards the bundle of forget-me-nots, your hands suddenly collided. It took Jaime by surprise, the way his breath caught up in his throat and his heart skipped a beat under your puppy eyed gaze. After that pleasant incident, the knight couldn’t help but chase the feeling.
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 thank you for reading!! requests are open for my boy jaime! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ join the taglist! ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ .｡✧･ﾟ:*
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 plz send in/comment more ideas so I can make a better/centralized masterlist for everything jaimeeeeeee (because I love him, even in the big 2025) i’ll try to update it regularly!
anyone interested in a jaime lannister fanfic? currently thinking about a bridgerton-style arranged marriage, during a weekend of festivities in casterly rock. mutual pining, caught in the rain, sneaking around, bumping into each other in the dark castle in the middle of the night because they both can’t sleep, he’s only soft for her, all the good stuff.
I made a new jjk community so we can freely share our fanfics! the other ones I’ve found have requirements or content randomly gets deleted by moderators even tho there are no rules. So here is a community for any type of fanfics, just tag them accordingly! I miss my jjk tumblr friends 😭 plz join so we can all create and enjoy 🎀
A community for JJK lovers! Feel free to share your fanfics and ideas. Please tag your posts accordingly (nsfw, angst, spoilers, etc.) Plz t
