𓊈 ⸸ Blog is under construction, your patience is appreciated. 𓊉
Masterlist
☰ C.Ai
☰ Just the basic rules for the blog. DNI if you're antisemitic, hinduphobic, pedophile, racist etc.
☰ Triggers and/or warnings are mentioned with the post. I try to keep things PG 16 but you're here on your own.
☰ SFW only
𐀔 Don't be shy to come say hello otherwise ❤︎
If under 18, let me know in advance. ೀ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Synopsis: In some irony of nature, an immortal teaches you the ways of the living.
❀﹒Notes: Manga spoilers. Angst but y'all know I gotta be funny about it . Sukuna himself is a trigger warning. Suggestive humor.
𓍯 W.C. 2K
The list of cons about the lifestyle of shamans is never ending; ‘certain death’ being the one at the very top of the catalogue in big, bright letters. But at the fear of sounding morbidly optimistic, you think the perks balance it out. The money is good, for one. That’s what keeps most in this profession where everything is trying to kill you at every corner. And if someone asks, you’d probably state the same reason. It’s the easy thing to say, something that doesn’t require a lot of thinking.
But you like to think.
Which is another, if not the primary reason you don’t mind the frequent reminders of your mortality. There isn’t too much work and more often than not, you can do absolutely nothing but kill time.
It’s nothing sophisticated or anything of the sort. In fact, most days you think about absolute nonsense. Jump from one thought to the next or stay and mull over one for hours. In your head, you’re in control; not the higher ups, not Gojo Satoru but you.
Lately, your thoughts seem to always end up at one place. At first you found it somewhat irksome but you’re not one to fight these things too hard. Just let the stream flow in the direction it wants. That’s likely why you’d be a terrible protagonist; you’re passive and dull.
Sukuna however, is neither of those things. That’s likely why you didn’t mind being around him as much as a lot of people did. You’re not stimulating enough in the sense that he wants to toy with you. Neither is it your nature volatile enough to let him get under your skin.
That’s not to say the start of it wasn’t rocky. The first time you held him captive in his own domain, it was raining hellfire in more ways than one. In some depraved way, you’d enjoyed the show, you suppose. Given you a power trip because you were untouchable in the belly of the beast.
Only natural to taunt him. Hardly serious, in fact most of the things you poked at were rather harmless, or at least they were in the start. He was easier to bother then. Over time he must have built some sort of immunity so you had to alter the dose accordingly.
He’d snarl and bare his teeth like some rabid animal; like a dog. You wouldn’t even laugh, only smile as if his misery was mildly diverting. That was probably the worst part. Then like clockwork, Sukuna would swear vengeance upon your ancestry and describe in chilling detail what he’s do once he’s at the height of his power again. It was almost cartoonish to you; the supervillain describing his evil schemes.
At some point the narratives shifted around to accommodate you as a special mention, until eventually they began to be centred around you entirely.
He’d go on these vividly comprehensive diatribes. How he’s going to skin you alive and use it as the carpet to his bath house, all while beaming since he knew you find aggravation to be particularly compelling amongst all his reactions.
You politely asked him to stop self-projecting his fetishes. Safe to say that did the trick to have him frothing at the mouth.
Sometimes you’d leave him be to his devices. Coexist and nothing more. The first few times it was because you weren’t in the mood to talk for whatever reason. Sukuna had eyed you warily the first hour, tried to get something out of you the next few.
“Come on brat,” he pokes at you with what you assume is a fibula of whatever poor creature it might have once belonged to, now reduced to little more than home décor. “Is this a new scheme to get on my nerves?”
You’d shot him a half-hearted glare and somewhat whiny ‘go away’; one of your less creative comebacks.
“Is it your time of the month?”
“No,” you roll your eyes. “And even if it was, it’s none of your concern.”
“It is when a good drink is going to waste.” The casualness with which he said it was what put you off more than the words themselves.
“What,” you ask, somewhat wide eyed. Maybe the sleep deprivation was catching up.
“What?”
For better or worse, you were shipped off on a mission the next day so you didn’t have to unpack that with him.
Yuuji Itadori is declared dead by the time you return. Sukuna, by extension, to some degree. It’s tragic, of course but hardly anything you never witnessed. People come and go in a profession like this one.
The day Yuuji wakes up in the morgue, Sukuna throws a tantrum. Naturally, you find yourself back on babysitting duty. He doesn’t bother berating you this time around, only grumbling an ‘about damn time.’
You realize soon enough that he just wanted someone to share the results of his latest lunacy episode. He lays great emphasis on the part where he rips his shirt off, or Yuuji’s , more accurately. Gives you a real life replay even though you very much did not ask for it. Proceeds to casually breeze over the part where he rips out his heart. You find no reason to stretch out that part, specially not when you’re currently in a way, inside the boy’s subconscious.
♒︎
That’s probably when things really eased up. Felt less like you’re on the clock, expected to keep a millennia old fiend in line and more like a troublesome roommate. The kind who never does the dishes but gives the people next door a piece of his mind when they get carried away in debauched pastimes and you’re either not confrontational enough to deal with them or not in the mood.
“What do mortals do to pass time?”
You hold back a yawn; almost certain he chose to ask something right in this moment because you were just about to fall asleep peacefully. “They do each other.”
“Brazen, but what do you do to pass time?”
An owlish blink before the jab clicks. “Funny.”
♒︎
He’d taken to story telling at some point. It was a particularly uneventful week and you’d been crabby over being stuck inside in the most literal sense. Something about burning down villages and tearing jujutsu sorcerers limb to limb. You wonder to yourself at some point if publishing them would be worth it but shove the idea to the back of your head for the moment.
Sukuna’s Bizarre Adventures
It’s gratifying, you realize. Listening to him recall events. He never justified anything. Unlike most who did horrible things, Sukuna wasn’t deluded. Didn’t see himself as some divine justice. What he says, goes. An unjust however simple enough way to go about things.
Losing track of time was easy. In fact, often he’d have to shoo you away. You’d leave the domain, only to discern it’s already dark when you started early in the afternoon. Other times he’d regard you with a coy sort of look before asking when you last blinked.
He must be fucking with your head. It’s like saying you forgot to close the valves in your veins. But then you would blink, realize it’s sort of uncomfortable. You chalk it upto placebo.
In listening to Sukuna talk about himself you realized some things of your own. Primarily that you liked it. A little too much in fact because you come to become conscious of your habits over time. More specifically the one to eavesdrop. It’s at the most arbitrary places too; that group of high school kids talking about some upcoming club recruitment event. Or the elderly resident in your neighborhood on the call with his daughter, asking if she could make it home for the holidays.
It doesn’t have to be scandalous. Hell, sometimes it’s utterly mundane. But it’s really not about entertainment as much as it was about inquisitiveness. The things people do, the things they say, their regrets and their lies; the stories that never make it to paper because they’re boring yet make people what they are in present day.
But more importantly, you realized you hardly have anything of your own to say. Actually, that is somewhat of an inaccurate way to phase it. It’s more like you don’t want to, or didn’t want to.
The sorcerer life is hard not just because you can lose yourself but because you can lose the people around you. You’d taken that lesson too hard, shielded yourself too much and somewhere in the process of surviving, you’d forgotten to live.
You’d envied the intimacy your peers shared with each other. It wasn’t like you didn’t get along with them or anything but things with you were always surface level. Plans would be made but you’d back out more often than not, some excuse or the other ready. They’d sigh, tell you it’s fine, there’s always the next one. More of a formality than anything. They’d come to expect it from you.
Now well into your adulthood, the rift is too wide and you’re stuck on one side with no clue what to do about it.
The what ifs of life are what occupy your headspace. You wouldn’t say it’s lonely, per se. But it does get boring sometimes.
You’re similar in that way at least, you and Sukuna. That’s another reason why your time together doesn’t feel like as much of a chore as it is. Sukuna isn’t going to turn up his toes anytime soon. In hindsight, you jinxed that one too, huh?
♒︎
When the thoughts began, you’d felt like you’d committed a cardinal sin. Comrades fallen, humanity at stake and yet the one in your ruminations was the one who had consideration for nobody but himself.
But who prays for Satan?
It’s a derisory outlook. One that made you sure you were slipping away too. Going demented after all the recent events. It would hardly be the first case of psychosis amongst sorcerers.
The first time you pass by the shrine, you only spare it a look. The second time you slow down, the third you stop and by the fourth, you find your will having eroded enough to enter. A saunter around the courtyard confirms your only company are the rodents scurrying about and termites infesting the wood.
Strangely enough, no curses around either.
The face of the deity is almost entirely eaten away. In your mind, it looks like him. There’s incense sitting in a box somewhere to the left of the statue. You take out the lighter and put it near the end of it despite not counting on them to light up.
One does, despite all odds.
Deeming that satisfactory enough of a result, you push it into the stand and just stand there for a second. You try to recall any prayer from your childhood but your mind draws a blank in that moment. Getting performance anxiety in front of a block of wood has to take the cake as far as self esteem issues go for you.
“I was in the area,” and now you’re talking to thin air. “Just thought to drop by and say hi.”
That sounds like something you’re supposed to say to a summer situationship and not a once revered being but it’s the thought that counts.
Barely ten steps from the door, your phone vibrates with a notification. You fish it out, expecting it to be a promotional message. Instead, it’s Shoko’s name that lights up the screen.
An invitation to go drinking with Utahime and Mei Mei.
You don’t have to think a whole lot before punching in a reply and hitting send with an affirmation of your presence.
If you’re going to have to say goodbye, you better make every minute with them count. Maybe every once in a while, one needs a millennia old demon and a war to learn the simplest lessons in life. On second thought, it might just be the promise of booze.
Divider credits to @cafekitsune. Images from Pinterest.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: Doing the right thing is hard. You try your berry best.
Masterlist
There’s something in the shadows. The first time, you brush it off as a trick of light, the second you convince yourself it’s paranoia. By the third, it’s too much to bear.
You wander out, not finding the courage to move further than a foot from the entrance. Whether it’s fear for your well being or Neito’s, it’s hard to say. You wait outside for what feels like ages. Sleep eludes you, might as well keep watch. When the first rays of the sun light up the dreary gray skies, the shadows retreat back and take its dwellers with it.
What it does not take however, is the guilt. The panic has lessened but you know better than to let this false sense of security delude you. You led the danger to your door and now it might devour you and him. Eventually the weight of your conscience becomes overwhelming.
You take to walking further away. Maybe you can get him something nice, it might lift his spirits and your own by lessening the feeling that you’ve landed him between the wolves.
-
The further you walk, the more deserted the path becomes. With how early in the day it is, even the handful of lumberjacks are nowhere to be seen.
You stop at the edge of the woods, reconsider the decision. Not from cowardice of what awaits but from what you left behind. Neito will probably not be happy if he wakes up to you gone, especially after what went down yesterday. Hopefully you’ll be able to make it quick.
The road is narrow and uneven through the dirt. You have to get off at some point and go uphill. Barely twenty metres from the keekar and you’re pulled up and left hanging midair. The vines woven together aren't the best handiwork but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to get out of them. Luckily this isn’t your first rodeo.
Rummaging around uncomfortably, you manage to reach the glass shard tucked away in your clothes, wrapped in a thick piece of cloth. Some more struggling allows you to reach one hand out and start cutting impatiently.
It takes more time than you’d like, even more so when the resource is already precious at the moment. Once the vines give way, you toss the glass down onto the forest floor, making sure it’s a good few feet from where the trajectory will have you tumble on the ground before shifting to get out and falling face first.
The feeling of something moving in your mouth has you hurrying to spit out the revolting beetle.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop fucking up my goddamn nets?!”
Bakugou’s presence is such a contrast to the tranquility of the forest that you don’t quite understand how he had hunter blood.
“Maybe stop putting them in places where I keep getting stuck, shithead!”
He bristles, making a lunge at you that you miss narrowly by sidestepping.
“I need to go.” That sounded downright dismissive as far as Bakugou was concerned. And if there’s one thing he can’t take, it’s that.
“Go where?”
His scowl deepens when you don’t reply, only walking further into the forest and away from him.
“I picked a few of those shitty fruits.”
That made you stop.
-
Bakugou watches you devour the basket like you’re a zoo animal on display. You’re fairly convinced that’s how he sees you, as mildly interesting city dwelling stray creature living off sewer waste for food. Perhaps if you had any self respect, you wouldn’t return to him. But if you were to be honest, when the choice is between a full stomach and your dignity, the answer is clear as day.
“And then,” you continue. That was the trade after all, you tell him things in return for these little tokens. “they realized it’s an ulcer.”
“I was hoping it’d be liver fluke this time.” What an odd thing to sound disappointed over. Then again, who are you to judge oddities when you’re completely normal yourself. It’s simply not fair judgement.
“Anyway,” you lap up the sticky residue running down your hands, wipe off the rest on your bottoms. “Gotta go before Neito wakes up.”
You pick up the rest of the fruits, tied up in a cloth to carry the rest of the way home.
Bakugo’s face scrunches up while watching your figure grow smaller. “Neigh Toe?” What a strange name for a horse.
Say 'I don't like the casting choice for Luke and Percy in the Disney series' and nobody bats and eye.
But when I say 'I don't like the casting choice for Annabeth.' . Society...Society calls me racist.
I don't even have an issue with the race but the fact that she's not blonde. When breaking out of the dumb blonde archetype was literally one of the struggles she faces repeatedly.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Reading The Secret History and Percy Jackson simultaneously is so fucking funny. Mostly because of how differently they portray the same theme.
Like on one hand, you're reading about a group of friends who were driven to extreme lengths because of this ancient deity and torn apart because of this one event and their lives were never the same.
On the other, the same god runs a camp for troubled kids on a hill in Long Island because his dad put him on timeout for trying to hit on a dryad Zeus had his eyes on. He's supposed to be sober throughout it all, wears the most gaudy shirts known to man and refuses to call the campers by their actual name.
Synopsis: You help your fiancé elevate his fashion sense.
❀﹒Notes : Inspired by this video but imagine it on a tie-dye background. Suggestive, established relationship, explicit language, maybe ooc (???). Reader has no chill but he's into that.
It’s hideous.
From the tie-dye pink to the poorly edited picture and right down to the gaudy lettering of the font; absolutely hideous.
“What do you think?”
He looks at it, lips drawn into a thin line of contemplation.
“It’s something.”
The fact that he didn’t outright set this abomination on fire was a bigger testament to his commitment than the ring on your finger. Truly, the man had the patience of a monk to deal with your dubious sense of humor.
“That’s good,” you smile, being mindful that it isn’t too broad, lest your intentions be revealed. “I made it myself.”
Of course, why didn’t he guess that already? This has your name written all over it.
“The word choice is interesting.”
The remark makes your smile wider just a bit. “Yeah, it’s a wordplay. I thought it was pretty clever.”
That’s a solid way to put it.
“Sir Cumcise,” he reads out loud. “Very cultural,” a nod of approval and a second more that his eyes remain before he strips off the suit jacket and crisp pressed shirt in the favor of pulling on the shirt over his head, much to your surprise.
“Aren’t we going to dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Will you wear that out?”
He’s never much cared what people have to say about him but stepping out of the house with that on really deserves to be on the cover of his portfolio of the idgaf mvp.
He shrugs, smoothing out his hair . “It can be a conversation starter.”
“If they let us in,” you muse. It’s doubtful. The place is no Three Star Michelin but it’s decently standard.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
⨍tׁׅ: 𓍯 APH America I Alfred F. Jones
𓍯 APH Portugal I João Carriedo
𓍯 APH Spain I Antonio Carriedo
notes: suggestive jokes, google translate.
Part I
liked by zheg8st2knight, Maple-esque and 78,447 others
sincerelyyn save a horse, ride a cowboy or something
tagged McMuri'ca
view all 78 comments
⤿ zheg8st2knight my milkshake brings all zhe boys!!!
⤿ LudwigBeilschmidt to hell with your milkshake! I'm not picking you up from the club this time!
⤿hasta_la_pasta don't you bastards know it's rude to argue in some's comments??!!!
⤿McMuri'ca I want milkshake 😔
⤿sincerelyyn you just had your own AND mine ten minutes ago???
⤿bo'oh'o'wa'er definitely the longest i've seen him go without anything in his mouth
⤿McMuri'ca i actually just had her mouth in mine
liked by bo'oh'o'wa'er, greasy.cats and 56,173 others
luvr_boy Posso te dar um beijo? Se você não gostar me devolve
tagged sincerelyyn
view all 264 comments
⤿pots&pans you're both cute together <333
⤿legoliege69 THE FOMO HITTING ME LIKE TSKDGFREG!!!
⤿trolls you're the same online as you are irl
⤿legoliege OMG FRR??!! TY SO MUCH!!
⤿nyaaowang not necessarily a good thing :/
⤿legoliege this is a hate crime 🤕
⤿sincerelyyn so out of pocket and for what 😭
liked by wafflecore, budgetbeargrylls and 46,668 others
tomatino<3 bonita en rojo❤️
tagged sincerelyyn
view all 37 comments
⤿pasta＼(^_^)／ super pretty!!!
⤿twink-le-toes✨ a moment of appreciation for that back 😩🤌
⤿francisbonnefoy a-(wo)men 🙏
⤿sincerelyyn tysm🤧, i was on the fence abt it 'cause it's not my usual style but Antonio convinced me to take it
⤿tomatino<3 i can be convincing when i want to be
⤿luvr_boy gaslight
1. manipulate (someone) using psychological methods into questioning their own sanity or powers of reasoning.
I'll make a key with the characters and their usernames on another post and link here for anyone confused. Also, I used google for some of the translations. If there is any error, please let me know.
Feel free to send requests for any character of your choice and username ideas.
Pictures are from Pinterest. Characters belong to Himaruya. Don't copy or repost without permission.
Apollo being the god of poetry but coming up with the most awful Haikus has the same energy as your boomer boss who doesn't know what he's doing but got promoted to the post because everyone else in the that department was clueless back when it was introduced.
