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Jjk - Blog Posts

1 year ago
Apparently Miles Is A JJK Fan (in The Comics)
Apparently Miles Is A JJK Fan (in The Comics)

Apparently Miles is a JJK fan (in the comics)

If you put these two in a room together I think the result would be adorable 🥺


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2 months ago

✧。٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*。 I need him to put me in a headlock so bad need him to make me feel weightless ✧。٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*。

something i catch myself staring at for longer than i should:

Something I Catch Myself Staring At For Longer Than I Should:

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1 year ago

Four eye freak right here love representation 💜

A SLUT WITH GLASSES! — CHOSO KAMO!

A SLUT WITH GLASSES! — CHOSO KAMO!

SYNOPSIS...a drabble about how choso loves your glasses a little too much…if you know what I mean

INFO...choso x fem!reader, reader wears glasses, p in v, stomach bulge, blowjobs, cumming on face, cum eating, hair pulling, face fucking, spit, slapping

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

as a girly who wears glasses, I had to write this...

A SLUT WITH GLASSES! — CHOSO KAMO!

Choso loves how cute you look with your glasses, always pushing them up on the bridge of your nose when they slip down, or taking them off to clean and wipe them down. You always look so cute with them and he can’t help it. But what he loves more is when you wear them during sex, his poor baby can’t see without them. He’s fucking you rough, pulling your hair and forcing you to watch the way his cock disappears in your wet cunt, glasses falling off your face, the lenses fogging up as you try to keep them on. “Pay attention sweetheart, look at the bulge,” He snickers, watching the way his cock reached your guts, quite literally.

Don’t get him started on when you give him a blowjob, looking up at him over your glasses, plump lips wrapped around his cock. He has a fistful of hair in his hand, fucking your face, spit drooling everywhere. Tears stream down your cheeks as you choke on his dick, adjusting your glasses for the millionth time when he gives a chance to breathe. “Such a pretty mess you are.” He slaps your face before shoving his cock back down your throat again. Teary eyes stare up at him when he presses your nose against his pelvis. You acted like such a whore for him he loved it.

Next thing you know, he’s cumming on your face, sticky string of cum coating your glasses and tongue. You proudly swallow, smiling up at him. He slaps his dick on your tongue, rubbing it against your face and your glasses of course. “You got it on my glasses, Cho,” you pout, taking them off.

He chuckles, “sorry, princess.” He caresses you head, looking down at you as you lick the cum off of them. Of course a slut like you doesn’t let a drop go to waste. Goddamn, does he love those glasses. If you ever get contacts, he doesn’t know how he’ll manage.

A SLUT WITH GLASSES! — CHOSO KAMO!

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1 year ago

The sweetest thing 💖

Thinking about Takuma Ino, who becomes a father so young when you fall unexpectedly pregnant. Thinking about the fear in your eyes, the shaking hands going to hold each other's, the positive test clasped between them. The way Takuma reassures you; "it's okay, it's okay, I always wanted to be a dad...sure, not this soon-- but we'll be fine. Better than fine, we'll be great."

The way Takuma goes for a walk that night, after you've cried yourself to sleep, crouching down in an alleyway with his beanie'd head in his hands, wondering how he could possibly ever be a good father. Wanting to marry you, to do things 'right', but afraid you'd think he only wanted to marry you because of the pregnancy.

The way Takuma arrives on his mother's doorstep (the mother who raised him alone, young, single) in the dead of night, pale-faced. The way his mother holds him as he cries and apologises at the dining room table, his face in her robed chest. The way she cups his face, and stares into his eyes; "we can do this, together, the right way. You're a good boy. Now be a good man."

The way Takuma learns to be a father, from his mother, who was his whole world. The way Takuma works himself to the bone, squirrelling money away, booking in with estate agents to go and view your first home together in a way that makes your hormonal heart clench.

The way Takuma's head hits the pillow, weary after working all night, then comes straight up again as he hears you vomiting in the bathroom, kneeling behind you to stroke your hair back, holding you gently round the waist on the tiled floor; "attagirl...it'll be better soon, right? Toughest girl I know. Doin' such a great job."

The way Takuma takes up embroidery, buying cheap plain clothes for the baby, because he can't afford much, but adding small artistic touches of beauty; a frog with a toadstool hat, a little trailing succulent vine, a shooting star.

The way Takuma is bright and excited; there for every scan, every class, every milestone. The way Takuma puts on a brave face. The way Takuma hides in the staffroom at work, his head in his hands, creaking under the weight of responsibility. The way he feels a strong hand clasp his shoulder, a beige suit, a blue shirt, a leopard print tie at the corner of his eye; "I know you're going to say no...but I'd like to buy a gift. For both of you. For the baby."

The way Takuma feels so ashamed for accepting help; the way a crib, a beautiful buggy, a snug and safe car seat, all gradually arrive at your new home. The way he tries to insist on paying Nanami Kento back. Nanami naturally refuses, pretends to be inordinately interested in his newspaper.

The way Takuma can't help but buy the baby a few beanies. The way you retaliate by buying an outfit that looks just like Ino's. He is thrilled.

The way Takuma's embroidery has advanced so well, he makes four little Auspicious Beasts to hang from a mobile above the crib.

The way Takuma paints beautiful, geometric, zany black and white shapes on the wall in the baby's bedroom; "They only see black, white and red at first babe. Neat, right?"

The way Takuma is pale throughout your labour, his eyes feverish, your pain so much harder than any battle he's ever been to. The way his tears hit him in a huge whooshing breath, a head-holding groan of relief when his baby son is placed on your chest, wet and crying, a little angry clenched face. The way Takuma rests his cheek on his arm at the top of your bed, gazing down and sniffling as his son holds his finger.

The way Takuma takes you both home, proud, woefully in love, still wondering how he's ever going to grow up and be a man, without realising he's already so much more of a man than so many others in this world.

Thinking about young dad Takuma Ino.

Thinking About Takuma Ino, Who Becomes A Father So Young When You Fall Unexpectedly Pregnant. Thinking

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1 year ago

Speechless…but I love it

Who Wants An Injection?
Who Wants An Injection?

who wants an injection?


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1 month ago
ᯓ★ Thinking About How He Pretends Like He’s Winning The Idgaf War But The Second You Invite Him

ᯓ★ thinking about how he pretends like he’s winning the idgaf war but the second you invite him to matcha and yap with you he’s putting on his best outfit, spraying his nicest cologne, and on the way to meet you (he doesn’t even like matcha that much.) and then afterwards he’s kicking his feet and blushing like a girl, writing his notes app entry about your “date” today and how your hand had brushed his for a little too long whilst you were explaining something that had went over his head—his attention was wholly focused on the cute faces you made when you were excited.

god forbid anyone ever stumble upon his locked notes, they’re lengthy, movie-transcript worthy accounts of each hangout.

ᯓ★ Thinking About How He Pretends Like He’s Winning The Idgaf War But The Second You Invite Him

—ITOSHI RIN, karasu tabito, ISAGI YOICHI (bllk), FUSHIGURO MEGUMI, inumaki toge, GOJO SATORU (jjk), TARTAGLIA, heizou, kinich (genshin)

ᯓ★ Thinking About How He Pretends Like He’s Winning The Idgaf War But The Second You Invite Him

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1 month ago

i probably should have posted this on twitter but… straight men be sounding like the gays on stan twitter when it comes to their favorite anime male characters and it’s so fucking funny LMAOOO like men infiltrate jjk edit comment sections and they’ll be arguing back and forth about gojo and sukuna like oh “fraudkuna” “goatjo” “twinkjo” “fagkuna” “my glorious king gojo” “godkuna”- or even the way they bully megumi for being pretty. men generally make things unfun to watch especially the shonen genre but this shit be sending me because these be grown ahh men yall! they wanna fuck those male characters sooo bad. god forbid a girl calls one of those characters hot or makes a thirst edit and they’re calling her every unholy name in the book… but this is how they act?

I Probably Should Have Posted This On Twitter But… Straight Men Be Sounding Like The Gays On Stan Twitter

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1 month ago
NEED THIS, If Anyone Has This Vibe, HIT ME UP. Anyway This Gives Me CHOSO KAMO Vibes
NEED THIS, If Anyone Has This Vibe, HIT ME UP. Anyway This Gives Me CHOSO KAMO Vibes
NEED THIS, If Anyone Has This Vibe, HIT ME UP. Anyway This Gives Me CHOSO KAMO Vibes

NEED THIS, if anyone has this vibe, HIT ME UP. Anyway this gives me CHOSO KAMO vibes


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1 month ago

Nanami is 100% the type to notice the way your eyes linger on a second drink at the cafĂŠ menu. You always try to be practical, try to choose just one, the true drink you've been craving, but he sees it. The tiny furrow of your brows, the way your gaze flicks back and forth between two options, lips pursing thoughtfully.

So when he steps up to order, he doesn’t even ask. Just orders both. Hands you your first choice, then gently sets the second one down in front of you with a soft, “I figured you’d want to try both.” Acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like it wasn’t the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done.

If you hesitate, if you happen to get all shy and flustered and try to say no, it’s okay, he’ll just give you that small smile as he leans over, reaching for your hand. His thumb rubbing your wedding ring “Try them,” he’ll say simply, adoration in his eyes. “Take whichever one you like more, I just want my girl happy.”


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1 month ago
I Know This Isn't What I Usually Post, But Yuji Be Looking Pretty AF.

I know this isn't what I usually post, but yuji be looking pretty AF.

(Yes I drew this last night)

I Know This Isn't What I Usually Post, But Yuji Be Looking Pretty AF.

I love this Goober.


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6 months ago

I HAVE ANOTHER REQUEST. (sorry).

I CRAVE spiderman au fics. Any universe, really; MHA, JJK, LADS, Haikyu!!, Percy Jackson - could be a ship or an X Reader, I am NOT picky!!

I JUST NEED SPIDERMAN. Ao3 or Tumblr please recommend some!!!


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2 years ago

THATS TOJI??????

LAWD

NO ONE FUCKING LOOK AT ME NO ONE TALK TO ME IM LITERALLY IN MENTAL DISTRESS OH MY GODDDDDDDD
NO ONE FUCKING LOOK AT ME NO ONE TALK TO ME IM LITERALLY IN MENTAL DISTRESS OH MY GODDDDDDDD

NO ONE FUCKING LOOK AT ME NO ONE TALK TO ME IM LITERALLY IN MENTAL DISTRESS OH MY GODDDDDDDD


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9 months ago
Dumbest Shit I’ve Drawn That Got Popular For Some Dumb Reason.

dumbest shit I’ve drawn that got popular for some dumb reason.


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1 month ago

sometimes a piece of media just! grabs you by the throat and says, "hey buddy! I'm gonna irrevocably alter your brain chemistry now! have fun with that!!"

and then you just ! gotta deal with that ! you guess !!


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2 months ago

Everyone, I've posted a new fic..!!!! ʚ₍ᐢ ›̥̥̥ ༝ ‹̥̥̥ ᐢ₎ɞ It's my first angst fic, so give it lots of love ><..

Sunlight.

Sunlight.

DEAD!Megumi x Grieving! Reader

summary: In the wake of Megumi's death, you're left haunted by the quiet moments you've shared, the unspoken words, and the last goodbye that never came. Clinging to the memories of a love that felt unfinished, replaying the moments you wish you could have held onto forever. Grief, in all its silence, becomes a space you learn to inhabit, where the echoes of your lost connection linger just out of reach.

WARNINGS: (mentioned) character death, depression, ANGST!!!!!!!, heartbreak

Word count : 1134 words (I thought it would be short, but i just kept going with it and here we are....)

a/n: First time writing something super angsty!!! I hope you all enjoyed it... I think I did really well! (˶˃ᆺ˂˶) ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

You didn’t say much that morning. But that wasn’t unusual. You never did.

You stood by the door for a second longer than usual. Glanced back at me. And in your eyes—just for a moment— there was something soft. Something final.

I should’ve noticed. Should’ve asked why you weren’t wearing that fake bored look you always put on before missions. Should’ve stopped pretending I was too busy to get up and kiss you goodbye.

But I didn’t. I waved. Lazy. Distracted. Said, “Don’t die, dumbass.”

And you huffed a laugh. That almost-smile. Then turned and left.

No last words. No “I love you.” Not even a real look.

Just the soft click of the door closing.

And now I keep replaying that moment, over and over, like if I stare at it long enough, I’ll see something I missed.

A message. A sign. A warning.

But there’s nothing. Just you, fading into the morning light, shoulders squared like always, like you were walking into something you’d already accepted.

You always were like that— quiet, distant,

I know now— you were protecting me. Not just from the mission. From the goodbye.

Because if you had said anything real, anything final, I would’ve shattered right there.

But you knew me. Knew I needed to believe you'd be back. So you gave me silence. And left all the words unspoken.

Now I cling to them. The ones you never said. The look you gave me like it might’ve been enough. The quiet care folded into every goodbye you never made a big deal of.

I never got to say it back. But I hope you knew. Hope my half-wave meant please come back, and my lazy grin meant I need you, and my stupid parting words meant I love you more than I know how to say.

I hope you carried that with you. To wherever you are. Wherever you went.

Because I still carry you— in the silence. In the warmth that lingers. In the things we never said but always meant.

Some days, I still set a place for you. Not a real one. Not forks and plates. But a space—next to me, in the quiet. In the pauses between songs. In the second half of a sentence I never finish anymore.

I don’t think people vanish. Not really. You’ve just… sunk beneath the surface of everything.

You’re in the smell of summer pavement after rain. In the echo of a laugh I hear once and never again. In the way I turn, sometimes, too fast—thinking you're there. And the second after, when I remember.

You would’ve hated how soft I am now. How small I’ve gotten. I used to be louder around you. Stranger. Braver. Real.

Now I just exist. Sleep. Wake. Float.

Some days I still wonder what you were thinking. Before. When the silence started pressing too hard, when the light got too far away.

Did you know I would miss you like this? Like a phantom limb? Like an entire future collapsing in slow motion?

I still dream of you. Not as a ghost. Not as someone gone. But as you were—messy, warm, your sharp eyes, good with the dogs, awkward.

You always knew how to ruin me with a smile.

And when I wake up— when the dream folds shut like a book I never finished— there’s that moment. Where the air remembers you.

Where the world almost feels like it did before.

And I just lie there. Quiet. Staring at the ceiling like maybe you’ll come back with the morning light.

You don’t.

But I keep waking up anyway.

If I could stay in a moment… Yeah. I think I would.

But only that one. The one that slipped past like sunlight on water— brief, warm, gone before I could hold it.

It wasn’t anything special. Just your laugh, maybe. The way your voice stumbled when you were too tired to filter your thoughts. The way we both said nothing, and it still meant everything.

I replay it sometimes. That soft little second in the blur of days. You looked at me as if I were made of light. Me pretending I didn’t notice.

But I did. God, I did.

And now it’s fading.

Like all beautiful things do—too fast, too quiet, too soon.

I try to keep it. Bottle it up, hide it away, memorize the sound of it. But it slips. It always slips.

And maybe I was never meant to keep you. Maybe we were always going to be this—just a blink between lifetimes. Something bright and impossible and almost.

But still, I find myself reaching— in dreams, in quiet hours, in the soft hush of early morning— hoping, maybe, you’re doing the same.

Just for a moment. Just one.

You and me. Caught between the seconds. Still turning, still drifting, Still almost real.

I woke up like usual,

flipping to my side, and you’re still not there.

If I could’ve said something that mattered… Yeah. I think I would have.

But it all happened so fast. Too fast to hold. Too fast to save.

One minute, you were laughing like the world couldn’t touch you. And then— just air. Just a silence too big to fill.

People said it was peaceful. That you didn’t feel a thing. But I think they said that for me, not for you. Because I felt it. The echo where your voice should’ve been. The coldness in places you once warmed.

You were gone, and the sky didn’t change.

I hate that.

I hate that the world kept spinning, like you were never here at all.

But I remember.

I remember the exact shape of your presence— the way time curved when you smiled, the way your fingertips lingered a second too long, like you were always about to say goodbye but never quite did.

Maybe you knew. Maybe you knew.

And maybe I didn’t want to believe it.

Now, I go back to where you still exist— the songs we shared, the notes you left, the way your name looks written in my handwriting. 

Your jacket still lingered of your scent.

Your toothbrush is still hanging in my bathroom cabinet.

It’s like you’re going to be back, but I promised myself.

I can’t keep deceiving myself with lies like those. 

You’re not going to be back. Not to collect your toiletries,

And even more so not to collect the memories we’ve shared together. 

And so I replay it— the moment before you left. The last laugh. The last word. The last time you looked at me like I was something worth staying for.

The world spins, but I stay still. In the memory of you. In the breath before the end. In the place where I almost kept you.


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2 months ago

Sunlight.

Sunlight.

DEAD!Megumi x Grieving! Reader

summary: In the wake of Megumi's death, you're left haunted by the quiet moments you've shared, the unspoken words, and the last goodbye that never came. Clinging to the memories of a love that felt unfinished, replaying the moments you wish you could have held onto forever. Grief, in all its silence, becomes a space you learn to inhabit, where the echoes of your lost connection linger just out of reach.

WARNINGS: (mentioned) character death, depression, ANGST!!!!!!!, heartbreak

Word count : 1134 words (I thought it would be short, but i just kept going with it and here we are....)

a/n: First time writing something super angsty!!! I hope you all enjoyed it... I think I did really well! (˶˃ᆺ˂˶) ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

You didn’t say much that morning. But that wasn’t unusual. You never did.

You stood by the door for a second longer than usual. Glanced back at me. And in your eyes—just for a moment— there was something soft. Something final.

I should’ve noticed. Should’ve asked why you weren’t wearing that fake bored look you always put on before missions. Should’ve stopped pretending I was too busy to get up and kiss you goodbye.

But I didn’t. I waved. Lazy. Distracted. Said, “Don’t die, dumbass.”

And you huffed a laugh. That almost-smile. Then turned and left.

No last words. No “I love you.” Not even a real look.

Just the soft click of the door closing.

And now I keep replaying that moment, over and over, like if I stare at it long enough, I’ll see something I missed.

A message. A sign. A warning.

But there’s nothing. Just you, fading into the morning light, shoulders squared like always, like you were walking into something you’d already accepted.

You always were like that— quiet, distant,

I know now— you were protecting me. Not just from the mission. From the goodbye.

Because if you had said anything real, anything final, I would’ve shattered right there.

But you knew me. Knew I needed to believe you'd be back. So you gave me silence. And left all the words unspoken.

Now I cling to them. The ones you never said. The look you gave me like it might’ve been enough. The quiet care folded into every goodbye you never made a big deal of.

I never got to say it back. But I hope you knew. Hope my half-wave meant please come back, and my lazy grin meant I need you, and my stupid parting words meant I love you more than I know how to say.

I hope you carried that with you. To wherever you are. Wherever you went.

Because I still carry you— in the silence. In the warmth that lingers. In the things we never said but always meant.

Some days, I still set a place for you. Not a real one. Not forks and plates. But a space—next to me, in the quiet. In the pauses between songs. In the second half of a sentence I never finish anymore.

I don’t think people vanish. Not really. You’ve just… sunk beneath the surface of everything.

You’re in the smell of summer pavement after rain. In the echo of a laugh I hear once and never again. In the way I turn, sometimes, too fast—thinking you're there. And the second after, when I remember.

You would’ve hated how soft I am now. How small I’ve gotten. I used to be louder around you. Stranger. Braver. Real.

Now I just exist. Sleep. Wake. Float.

Some days I still wonder what you were thinking. Before. When the silence started pressing too hard, when the light got too far away.

Did you know I would miss you like this? Like a phantom limb? Like an entire future collapsing in slow motion?

I still dream of you. Not as a ghost. Not as someone gone. But as you were—messy, warm, your sharp eyes, good with the dogs, awkward.

You always knew how to ruin me with a smile.

And when I wake up— when the dream folds shut like a book I never finished— there’s that moment. Where the air remembers you.

Where the world almost feels like it did before.

And I just lie there. Quiet. Staring at the ceiling like maybe you’ll come back with the morning light.

You don’t.

But I keep waking up anyway.

If I could stay in a moment… Yeah. I think I would.

But only that one. The one that slipped past like sunlight on water— brief, warm, gone before I could hold it.

It wasn’t anything special. Just your laugh, maybe. The way your voice stumbled when you were too tired to filter your thoughts. The way we both said nothing, and it still meant everything.

I replay it sometimes. That soft little second in the blur of days. You looked at me as if I were made of light. Me pretending I didn’t notice.

But I did. God, I did.

And now it’s fading.

Like all beautiful things do—too fast, too quiet, too soon.

I try to keep it. Bottle it up, hide it away, memorize the sound of it. But it slips. It always slips.

And maybe I was never meant to keep you. Maybe we were always going to be this—just a blink between lifetimes. Something bright and impossible and almost.

But still, I find myself reaching— in dreams, in quiet hours, in the soft hush of early morning— hoping, maybe, you’re doing the same.

Just for a moment. Just one.

You and me. Caught between the seconds. Still turning, still drifting, Still almost real.

I woke up like usual,

flipping to my side, and you’re still not there.

If I could’ve said something that mattered… Yeah. I think I would have.

But it all happened so fast. Too fast to hold. Too fast to save.

One minute, you were laughing like the world couldn’t touch you. And then— just air. Just a silence too big to fill.

People said it was peaceful. That you didn’t feel a thing. But I think they said that for me, not for you. Because I felt it. The echo where your voice should’ve been. The coldness in places you once warmed.

You were gone, and the sky didn’t change.

I hate that.

I hate that the world kept spinning, like you were never here at all.

But I remember.

I remember the exact shape of your presence— the way time curved when you smiled, the way your fingertips lingered a second too long, like you were always about to say goodbye but never quite did.

Maybe you knew. Maybe you knew.

And maybe I didn’t want to believe it.

Now, I go back to where you still exist— the songs we shared, the notes you left, the way your name looks written in my handwriting. 

Your jacket still lingered of your scent.

Your toothbrush is still hanging in my bathroom cabinet.

It’s like you’re going to be back, but I promised myself.

I can’t keep deceiving myself with lies like those. 

You’re not going to be back. Not to collect your toiletries,

And even more so not to collect the memories we’ve shared together. 

And so I replay it— the moment before you left. The last laugh. The last word. The last time you looked at me like I was something worth staying for.

The world spins, but I stay still. In the memory of you. In the breath before the end. In the place where I almost kept you.


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2 months ago

New Megumi writing coming very very soon… its quite short, but it will be a good work ^^

Oh also, i recently got into BSD again. I’m not fully finished with the manga, so no spoilers please!!! ( ´ཀ` )

Very huge Sigma fangirl at the moment….. maybe akutuagawa too. I may consider writing for them in the future…

Ah, right. The Megumi work thats coming soon will be kind of a new writing style, which is why it will be short. Please tell me if you enjoy it though, I appreciate when people leave comments.꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱

Thank you for reading!! And the accumulated 300 likes..


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3 months ago

What do you all want me to write? I’m on vacation, so if i get some good ideas, i might write a little more ^ ^

Feel free to drop an ask!!!


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3 months ago
Megumi Looks So Soft In This Omg ( ´▽`)

Megumi looks so soft in this omg ( ´▽`)

Hes so cute!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to devour him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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3 months ago

i just went to check, and my first ever piece of writing got 30 likes, and I currently have 9 followers. Thank you all very much, I will be working hard to improve...


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3 months ago

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO masterlist ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡.ᐟ

˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦

| ❤︎- Fluff.ᐟ

| ✖- Angst.ᐟ

| I do NOT write NSFW right now, but a symbol will be added for it if in the future if I do.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

| SERIES! † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ †

| Ah..... There's nothing here yet. Please check back later, okay ?

| ONESHOTS! † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ †

❤︎ An angel dressed in pink .ᐟ [no curse AU] [aged up] [mentions of drinking] [Not yet dating!!!!]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 In which Megumi meets you - a Jirai girl- at his birthday party.

| DRABBLES! † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ †

❤︎ The simplicity of his love. [VERY FLUFF!!!!!!!] [already dating]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 In which Megumi, your boyfriend that looks uninterested in everything else, is a big softie for you.

| HEADCANNONS! † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ †

| Ah..... There's nothing here yet. Please check back later, okay ?


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