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don't gotta worry abt same face syndrome if u only draw one guy ever

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in case ur curious how my day's going, i forgot the word for manager and called mine "my handler"

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REVEAL: for sender to slowly undress themselves while receiver watches, but doesn't touch. / and aaanother one for suguru

devoted, yearning and obsessive. // @b1oodburned

HOW EASY IT WOULD BE. HOW HE YEARNS. yearns, so terribly that it feels like starving, to lift his trembling hands and press them to the sheen of skin over michiko's ribcage. perhaps if he were a more impulsive man. but suguru geto has always been the champion of restraint; instead of collapsing into the bottomless well of desire, he lets out a shaky exhale and tips his head back against the headboard. balls his hands into fists, gripping the covers hard enough to hurt as michiko delicately removes layer after layer, eyes never leaving his eyes, burning, burning.

❝ michiko. ❞ when he finally stills, suguru's eyes rake down his bare form, pausing to absorb every detail. the stained-glass window of him. the altar of him. suguru knows no prayer that would be adequate. ❝ you're so beautiful. ❞ let me touch you. he speaks without speaking. let me worship you.

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"But then i realized. You will never love me more than my own self-destruction."

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❝ mmmmngghhhh... ❞ her stomach hurts. expect reduced productivity and increased grumbling.

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obsessed with the femboy prince in this anime

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DESPITE EVERYTHING, AFTER ALL this time, he is still suguru geto. still that boy from school. still the only other person who came into jujutsu from normalcy rather than — whatever the hell gojo had going on. and yes, she must acknowledge that there is a degree to which geto has become ... rather ... ah. unhinged? sure. a little bonkers? perhaps. but who is chiaki to judge? she snapped and went on a murder spree after her parents were killed.

jujutsu sorcery leaves no man's hinges intact. it's just... not many are brave enough to admit it.

carefully, chiaki's fingers slip between the strings and pinch the soldier's bed formation into the candles formation, then weave back into the edges to replace geto's hands. the childlike joy behind her oft-glassy eyes is hard to miss. though it wasn't a conscious goal to start, chiaki does enjoy dragging geto back down to his roots. the simplicity of a children's string game. ice cream trucks on a hot day. banter back and forth like they're still teenagers on the asphalt, not a cult leader and his subordinate on a war path to the end of the world. it's the little things. perhaps one day he'll strike her down for speaking to him like a friend rather than a commander, but until that day comes...

❝ you can try, but you're looking pretty slippery right now, your holiness. don't underestimate my ability to wriggle. ❞

― “ The  great  Geto-sama  cannot,  in  fact,  handle  it. ”        the  shining  gravure  model  printed  on  his  hand-fan  blurred  by  this  feverish  cooling ― a  groan  of  absolute  burden  comes  crawling  out  with  difficulty,  as  if  the  heat  itself  were  a  stone  pressed  hard  to  the  chest.  after  a  moments  pause,  he  stopped  his  fanning  abruptly  and  turned  to  face  her,  readying  himself  to  play  her  game   ( the  idol  on  the  fan  placed  toward  the  floor,  shielding  chiaki's  eyes )  he  pinched  his  fingers  to  each  line  that  sat  vertically  between  her  fingers,  forming  the  outline  of  the  ‘X’  shape.  .  .  how  long  had  it  been  since  he  played  this  little  game?  were  there  other  games  he'd  forgotten  to  play  and,  if  by  some  chance,  would  he  ever  reach  a  point  that  he  could  play  them  again?

halcyon  days  of  barking  laughter,  elbowing  one  another  like  they  lived  in  a  moshpit ; maybe if  it  were  long  ago,  he  might  have  taken  the  string  and  made  into  the  shape  of  a  ― “ His  majesty  is  no  good  at  this,  Chiaki-chan.  Can't  I  just  put  you  in  a  headlock  and  call  it  a  day? ”

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some sketchers of the girlie 🫶🏼 doobles, if you will

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❝ WHAAAAT? THE GREAT geto-sama doesn't think he can handle it? ❞ not that that says much, coming from a girl who runs so cold. even with summer sweat beading at the base of her neck (beneath a parasol, wearing plenty of sunscreen, for her genetics do not mesh well with harsh sunlight), her fingertips are cool as she stretches a length of string through them, delicately crossed over itself in the beginning stage of cat's cradle. cursed energy thrums within the string's core — a test whose success foreshadows the possibility of weaving cursed energy into her silken fabrics. exciting stuff. ❝ c'mon, it's not so bad. all you have to do is is get through a round without making a mistake, and i'll get you a cold drink from the konbini. put those piano hands to good use, drama queen. ❞

― “ If  I  play  your  game,  will  you  show  me  mercy? ”       he  might  have  let  her  win  regardless,  not  wanting  to  really  overexert  himself.  the  man  sits  uncomfortably  against  the  highbeam  of  the  House,  cooling  himself  in  desperation  from  the  heat,  his  haori  untucked  so  that  only  his  hada  is  shown   (   it  does  nothing  to  relieve  the  heat  ). if only there was watermelon somewhere in the house. . .        “ Just  look  at  me,  wasting  away  to  practically  nothing.  .  . ”

@gravesung / starters

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Shout out to characters who want to be used. Shout out to characters who are so desperate to be worth something that they'll endure anything. Shout out to characters who build their entire self worth around being useful, being a tool. Shout out to characters who don't care how they are treated, as long as someone pays them any attention at all

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🌺 send this to ten muns you think are wonderful 🌺

THANK YOU LANI !!! you're so sweet and i appreciate this so much <3 right back at you!!!

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i havent shown her on the dash yet but @harerazor got a comm of chiaki (sans contacts/hairdye) from @/cat-terpillar and i'm OBSESSED. THE THOUSAND YARD STARE IS CAPTURED SO PERFECTLY. she's so PRETTY i want to kiss her all over the face

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Daytime Shooting Star Vol 6

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Hirunaka no Ryuusei

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she's bonking her head into your chest.

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you live on a tiny rock circling a small star in a sea of vastness, ancient vastness, endless vastness, such a wild, burning, chaotic, beautiful vastness. day by day you learn how to make these bones your own, in spite of the heartaches, in spite of the setbacks. wrens sing and you remember love. red sky touches black pines and you understand how it feels to need to keep moving forward. there is beauty in the motions and unfoldings of your hands. ( x )

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give me arranged marriage plots,