kamesama
kamesama
お姫様
77 posts
( kame ) — domestic fluff provider���
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kamesama · 1 month ago
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Hello there.
I'm writing a master's thesis on the topic of Fan Fiction ("Fan Fiction as a Form of Active Bibliotherapy – The Therapeutic Potential of Fan Fiction"). Currently I need to conduct a research.
If you could help me by filling out the survey I'll be eternally grateful. It should take approximately 10 to 15 minutes and it's completely anonymous.
Any and all fandoms are welcome -- all that matters is that you're a fanfic reader or a writer.
Please, consider giving this post a boost or forwarding this survey further. All responses count and I'd be truly grateful for any help I can get.
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kamesama · 3 months ago
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contemplating a cigarette. why a cigarette? what is it in a cigarette that amplifies the moment?
the aesthetic, perhaps. warm, fiery flicker in the cool night beneath the streetlights. synthwave in the background. delusional confidence attained through self-harm. a certain kind of loneliness. we seem to love bitter things. 
a cigarette.  davidoff white slims’ smoke and washed-out remains of zara’s supreme vanilla. the chill of a polluted night. jaded beat of track six of trevor something does not exist. and some strangers’ conversation beneath my window. 
it’s one of those nights.  haven’t had it in a while.
a cigarette it is, then.  maybe something comes out of it. 
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kamesama · 4 months ago
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on feedback.
i've had urges to write about this every now and then, but ultimately, i never have. likely because i do not consider my work to be some grand thing, or the absence of it a loss for humanity.
anyway, here i am.
there's been posts about this, and far from it that this topic is something new to discuss. that's another reason why i don't like having to spell it out — it's common knowledge at this point. or should be.
give your local artists and writers and content creators, in general, some damn feedback.
i don't know if it's the fact that people are into merely consuming nowadays rather than conversing with the community, or the fact that some of you have never done a thing you wanted noticed and pointed out, but you're awfully oblivious to the whole ordeal. either way, it's tiring to be on the receiving end of such ignorance.
it has been God knows how long since i've received feedback on anything i've written — from people other than friends i privately share my work with. and that's one of the reasons i am writing so scarcely nowadays. yes, yes. there's university, life and all. but the lack of feedback as well.
people are not exaggerating when they say they'd picked up some long-abandoned fic years later and finished it — just because someone decided to leave a comment and acknowledge it on a random thursday. i've been there. being told your work is well-written, sugar sweet, addictive, has left someone kicking their feet, sobbing, clenching their shirt or freaking foaming at the mouth does matter. that's the whole point!
if i wanted no reaction or no feedback or no critique, i would never have posted anything to begin with.
and hell, most people on tumblr and ao3 and wherever else do things for free, and still, people don't leave feedback. it's happened more than once that those who request a thing leave one dry like on it. perhaps a tasteless 'thank you' if they are generous. and, if extra generous, they reblog with no tags. nothing, absolutely nothing, to tell me and the world your impression of the work.
i write for myself, but that doesn't mean i'm immune to the lack of acknowledgement. if you water a flower, it'll grow more easily than it would if it had to suck the earth dry by itself.
the message you're giving me — and every other content creator — is that our work is not particularly interesting, worth sharing, nor gushing about.
if you read my work in your free time, if you have a drabble you keep coming back to because it scratches that itch, if you have a comfort fic somewhere on my blog that you open when you feel like crying, let me know. had i known that people come back to my old works, i probably wouldn't have deleted an archive blog of mine. but i have! why? because it was as dry as a desert — among other reasons.
conclusion? give people some fucking feedback. or simply don't start complaining when there is no longer any content except for money.
i'm not expecting that this post will be fruitful. but this has been on my mind for a while, and i'm choosing to finally address it.
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kamesama · 6 months ago
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on feedback.
i've had urges to write about this every now and then, but ultimately, i never have. likely because i do not consider my work to be some grand thing, or the absence of it a loss for humanity.
anyway, here i am.
there's been posts about this, and far from it that this topic is something new to discuss. that's another reason why i don't like having to spell it out — it's common knowledge at this point. or should be.
give your local artists and writers and content creators, in general, some damn feedback.
i don't know if it's the fact that people are into merely consuming nowadays rather than conversing with the community, or the fact that some of you have never done a thing you wanted noticed and pointed out, but you're awfully oblivious to the whole ordeal. either way, it's tiring to be on the receiving end of such ignorance.
it has been God knows how long since i've received feedback on anything i've written — from people other than friends i privately share my work with. and that's one of the reasons i am writing so scarcely nowadays. yes, yes. there's university, life and all. but the lack of feedback as well.
people are not exaggerating when they say they'd picked up some long-abandoned fic years later and finished it — just because someone decided to leave a comment and acknowledge it on a random thursday. i've been there. being told your work is well-written, sugar sweet, addictive, has left someone kicking their feet, sobbing, clenching their shirt or freaking foaming at the mouth does matter. that's the whole point!
if i wanted no reaction or no feedback or no critique, i would never have posted anything to begin with.
and hell, most people on tumblr and ao3 and wherever else do things for free, and still, people don't leave feedback. it's happened more than once that those who request a thing leave one dry like on it. perhaps a tasteless 'thank you' if they are generous. and, if extra generous, they reblog with no tags. nothing, absolutely nothing, to tell me and the world your impression of the work.
i write for myself, but that doesn't mean i'm immune to the lack of acknowledgement. if you water a flower, it'll grow more easily than it would if it had to suck the earth dry by itself.
the message you're giving me — and every other content creator — is that our work is not particularly interesting, worth sharing, nor gushing about.
if you read my work in your free time, if you have a drabble you keep coming back to because it scratches that itch, if you have a comfort fic somewhere on my blog that you open when you feel like crying, let me know. had i known that people come back to my old works, i probably wouldn't have deleted an archive blog of mine. but i have! why? because it was as dry as a desert — among other reasons.
conclusion? give people some fucking feedback. or simply don't start complaining when there is no longer any content except for money.
i'm not expecting that this post will be fruitful. but this has been on my mind for a while, and i'm choosing to finally address it.
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kamesama · 6 months ago
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— 2:49AM: will graham.
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— notes and warnings: just a lil' scene of will's night terrors. kinda angsty. 12/10 will make you wanna hug him, maybe. at this point i'm just writing because i miss doing it, and there is comfort in snippets like these. — word count: 535
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the cold sweat soaks the cotton, painting it a dark grey. ripples spread across his eyelids as the bulbs beneath roll frantically, as if searching for a way out of the black. the wrinkle between his brows deepens, and his lips twitch. he holds a mouthful of an incoherent sound; a diluted scream never spat out.
a faint whisper of the night. a light creak of the bed. a breathy burden of the lungs. 
finally, a gasp.
will graham’s eyes open to the darkness washed out by the meek glow of the distant streetlight. the unruly strands of brown stick to the wet skin, and his muscles ache from the seemingly frosty breath of his bedroom. ever an idle observer, the digital clock by his bedside reads 2:49 am. its gleam seems to hold no sympathy. 
again.
there is a sense of helplessness that rinses his guts. it’s a brief sensation, overshadowed only by a forced acceptance of his marrow-deep curse. he sighs — it calms the heart. normally. tonight, though, anxiety lurks uncomfortably close. something stares at him from the corner; a shadowy amalgamation with a penchant for mind-games. will graham stares back. it’s not the first time. it’s whispering something, but all he can hear are the rapid thumps of his heartbeat; the valves shutting and opening amuck like mouths wording warnings. he swallows.
water.
he doesn’t bother searching for slippers as he nearly stumbles across the timber. a flash of pitch black stains his vision, blots of ink spilling, but his footfalls continue blindly pushing through the night. his vision clears as he finds himself hovering over the kitchen sink, greeted by an unwashed coffee mug and a teaspoon. he pays them no mind as he lets the water run, washing his face with a sense of urgency before gulping the cold water like a starved man. it barely washes the mucous thirst off his tongue. 
something drips down his chin — sweat, water, saliva — and his breaths seep out ragged. eventually, they are polished to steadiness as clarity sneaks in. winston emerges from out of his car-chase dreams and tilts his head with an unspoken inquiry. unprovoked, he trots across the floorboards, wet nose nuzzling against will’s bare calf. 
“hey buddy,” the words are harder to spit out than he expected and he swallows the nothing that obstructs his throat. he drops to the floor, back resting against the kitchen drawers, and winston wastes no time in invading the space between will’s legs, the warmth of a friend — family — now like a blanket over his cold body. 
there is comfort in the handful of his russet fur. 
for a moment, it makes him forget that he is doomed. only for a moment.
the afterimages linger; fragments too small and too sharp dispersed all across the floors of will’s mind. it’s easy to bleed when he touches them. it’s easy to rip old scars and open new wounds. not even the selfless devotion pooling in winston’s puppy eyes manage to melt away the shadow that gnaws at will’s core. its teeth are in him, too deep. too at home. 
the hot tongue and wet nose smear a salted tear.
it’s just another night.
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thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
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kamesama · 6 months ago
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— ten minutes: will graham.
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— notes + warnings: i have a habit of watching tv shows in the midst of exam seasons, and so i am now neck-deep in hannibal, and down bad for will graham. i haven't written in months because i am too busy with university and life, and as such, this combination has lead me to fantasise about a study date with will and i stole a window of time to do something about those fantasies. anyhow, more relevant notes incoming: female oc ( harriet ) x will graham; literally just short fluff that is not my best work because i am rusty; will being a cute little shit; kissing. — word count: 639
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the faint aroma of coffee-gone-cold lingers; its scent stains the air alongside that of paper sheets and ink. daylight creeps in through the rain-stained windows as dusk draws nearer. minutes slip by. swift clicks of the keyboard and trackpad make the silence all the more apparent, but it’s not uncomfortable.
far from it.
will graham has one of his hands supporting his chin as his eyes trail over the text displayed on the screen of his silver macbook. his finger slides across the smooth pad before he taps it with a dull, satisfying sound, and then he is still again. the gaze behind the lens of his glasses remains focused. 
his companion appears to be just as immersed in her fair share of workload. she types, almost furiously for several seconds before her fingers come to a halt and the gears in her head twist and roll. then, she starts typing again. it seems to be a cyclic process playing on repeat, disturbed only by her hand reaching for the olive green coffee cup. 
she almost brings the rim to her lips, but then she realises — it’s empty. she glances down, and the newfound void of the cup glances back up at her. harriet frowns, and then takes a peek into will’s cup. it’s just as empty.
from the corner of his eye, will observes the scene and keeps a small grin from tugging at his lips. the furrow of harriet’s brows is almost endearing despite its role in portrayal of betrayal by the coffee’s consumption. it carries a softness not usually worn by the woman; he knows that he is amongst the rare ones handpicked by her to see it.
“we’re out of coffee,” she breaks the silence, but doesn’t look at him.  “are we?” there is a light tease to will’s voice; that ghost of a smile is audible. 
harriet looks up at him, not missing that tiny tidbit of mischief lingering in his cerulean eyes, “yeah. we are,” she says, tilting her head. she, too, fights a smile from blooming.
will doesn’t say anything, but he knows what to expect. and she knows that he knows.
“this calls for a break,” she says, and an amused breath seeps from will’s nostrils as his hands drop to the edge of the table. she sounds decisive, as always, “we resume at six fifty.” 
“took you long enough,” he muses as he stands up, whereas harriet ignores the tinge of sarcasm in his voice. he takes their mugs in one hand, letting them hang on his index and middle finger as he approaches harriet’s seat, his free hand cupping her freckled cheek. the smell of vanilla and brown sugar has faded and barely sits on her presence, faint. 
they share a kiss; a soft, warm kiss with an aftertaste of black coffee. it’s sweet in a way that draws the tension out ever so smoothly, and when they pull away, they don’t do so completely. their noses are still barely touching.
“i like this new reward system,” harriet murmurs, her lips brushing against will’s once more. “me too,” he says, “did you conclude that paragraph?”  “mhm,” she hums, “did you proofread that text?” 
will doesn’t reply instantly, instead kissing her again. she pulls away after a second, though, “will, did you?” she asks, looking up at him with a playful suspicion pooling in the brown of her eyes.
“i did,” he replies. “really?” “you can check while i refill this,” there is a nonchalance to his words as he pulls away and heads to the kitchen with the intent of bringing more fuel. 
harriet doesn’t check.
she stands up, stretches enough to draw out a small pop from out of her joints, and follows after him.
the plan is to use the most out of their ten minute break, after all.
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thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
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kamesama · 10 months ago
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thank you @crystal13unny for the tag.
tagging: @lorei-writes / @alby-rei / @sugutoad / @milkkicoffee & whoever else wants ( no pressure 🫡 )
oooh thanks for the tag vhas @chrysofightme !! <3
tagging some usuals and also some moots i haven’t rlly interacted w :0 @habizuh-studios @l7k-a @yanweiism @caeprus and anyone else!! no pressure <3
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kamesama · 11 months ago
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i miss the person i was before sukuna.
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kamesama · 11 months ago
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currently in the mood to be comforted by morally questionable husbands ( sukuna & sylus ) who let me use them as a body pillow after studying for a demanding class and tell me they could get rid of the problem for me.
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kamesama · 1 year ago
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SCREAMS !!!!!!!!!!!
not me taking a break from studies to check notifs and seeing THIS. i can see the effort; you've written so much and i love how you have it all visualised and thought-out, it's so lovely. i'm an enemies to lovers girly but when it comes to real life, i can definitely see myself appreciating friends to lovers more, obviously pff. so imagining this makes me !! giggle and kick my feet !!
the little fic down there nearly made me tear up because i'm a sucker for domesticity and that's so cute and super relatable ( my hands are full w/ these exams rn istg ).
and ? it's sukuna ? my cutie patootie, my babygirl, my little chocolate chip cookie, i'm gonna eat him and this post.
thank you for taking your time to do this, and once again, thank you for doing this whole 'event' in general to motivate people to donate even more.
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a/n: i apologise for taking really long with this @kamesama but i hope that you like it <33 thank you so much for donating and for your patience too i hope this lives up to your expectations. if anyone seeing this would like to request a matchup for gaza too then please check this post out for more information. all credits for the dividers go to @cafekitsune and @vysleix !! also tagging @ficsforgaza so you can check out all the other awesome creators too!!
The reason I've decided to match you with Sukuna is because I believe that you both can see past each other's exteriors. You mentioned that people find you quite intimidating, but you sound like such a lovely and sweet person, and I think Sukuna automatically realises that after the initial meeting.
And you're able to see past his gruffness too and treat him like a normal person. Usually, he'd feel disrespected at people seeing him in such a way, but with you, he feels seen, and it's refreshing.
When he first sees you, he's a little put off because he can't get a good read on you, and usually Sukuna can read EVERYONE. But after having a conversation with you, it's like he's known your soul forever.
A lot of people think Sukuna isn't capable of humanity and being human, but for most of his life, he's been treated like this monster. You're incredibly open-minded with him, and for once, he feels like he's found some common ground. And it’s not condescending or mocking the way to treat him, so he appreciates it more than he lets on.
That doesn't mean he opens up to you straight away, though. At first, he tries to fight his feelings. He's been alone for hundreds of years, and he doesn't need anyone. But the more he 'begrudgingly' hangs out with you and the more he talks to you, the better and sweeter the idea sounds. It makes his cheeks flush, and he hates it.
You know Sukuna's down bad when he laughs/snorts at your sarcastic comments instead of standing there unamused. Your chaotic nature is perfect for him who’s literally chaos personified. Before you guys get together as a couple, I truly think you'd be friends for a good while.
Even though you'd probably have a crush on each other within 5 months of hanging out, because you're both quite selective and independent it takes time to accept those feelings and want to be in a relationship.
Don't get me wrong, you both yearn for it, but no one really makes a move scared they've misunderstood each other's affections. Safe to say, it takes about a year for anything to actually happen. Sukuna really doesn't want to mess things up, so he's treading more carefully than normal and actively takes interest in your life. He’s way too stubborn to admit his feelings, though, even more stubborn than you.
I can see you guys as the couple that never actually confesses. You both just start doing couple things together and are incredibly exclusive. Next thing you know you’ve moved in together. You’re sharing a bed and making breakfast together, talking about the most mundane things. True definition of domestic bliss.
Sukuna goes out of his way to make sure you’re taken care of. He sees you doing it for your friends, and it makes him want to take care of you even more. He’s always offering massages and makes sure you’re drinking enough water. If you need a ride he’s there before you even bring your phone out to text him. Despite everything he’s a true safe space for you.
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A frown finds its way onto Sukuna’s features when he sleepily reaches out and finds Kame’s side of the bed empty. He opens his eyes, almost panicked, and glances at the bright red digits on the bedside table. Sighing at the time, Sukuna drags a hand across his face and gets up and out of bed.
Kame said she’d be in bed before midnight, and it was now 2 am. Sukuna had decided to lounge in bed and wait for her, keeping the bed warm for when she eventually did decide to call it a night. But he must’ve fallen asleep while waiting for her. Sukuna was never a good sleeper, and without Kame’s warmth, he was even worse.
Still, he didn’t want his beloved to overwork herself, which is why he was trying to stay awake. She’d been staying up later and later, and whilst he understood the importance of her exams and studies, he really wished she’d take more care of herself. He tried to make it as easy for her as possible, bringing her multiple coffees a day and taking the responsibility of making lunch for the two and even dinner most nights.
But sleep was one thing, no matter how hard he tried to convince her, she lacked on. Slipping on trousers and a t-shirt, Sukuna moved towards the living room where he knew he’d find Kame on the floor, papers sprawled all around her, scribbling notes down ferociously.
It was a sight he had seen multiple times but had still never failed to put a soft smile on his face. He thought Kame looked beautiful. The scrunch in her eyebrows, the slight purse in her lips. Scanning her face, he realised he could stare at her all day and not get bored. But he snapped out of it, realising he had a job to do and that it was past 2 am.
“What happened to midnight?” Sukuna gruffly asked, his arms coming to cross against his chest.
Kame jumps at his voice, suddenly breaking the silence (and waking her up), snapping her head towards an unimpressed Sukuna.
“What time is it?” She asks somewhat breathlessly. Sukuna scoffs at her words and comes to crouch down in front of her.
“It’s nearly 3 am Kame, you need to sleep.”
He brings his hands up to gently hold her face and presses a kiss against her temple. Her eyes closed, bathing in his warmth, so desperately wanting to sleep. But remembering the work she has to do, she snaps her eyes open and tightens her hold on her pen.
“Nothing’s gonna stay in your brain babe, come to bed.”
Sukuna had a pleading look on his face, a look she’d only seen once or twice more. Feeling bad at having kept him awake, Kame finally nods. He was right anyway. She definitely would have to go over everything she did in the past couple of hours again when she woke up.
Sukuna smiles and lifts her up, letting her settle into his arms as he carries her to bed. As he places her under the covers, she immediately reaches to cuddle Sukuna. Letting out a little laugh, he obliges and brings her up to his chest, wrapping his large arms around her. Pressing kisses to her face, he rubs her back, hoping she falls asleep soon.
Within minutes, she’s knocked out, her breath warm against Sukuna’s chest.
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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kamesama · 1 year ago
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see, this is why i firmly believe that sukuna would come back home after a long day with a bouquet of flowers for his wife.
a big one, too.
so what im hearing is that sukuna's into flowers enough to know their names 🤭🤭
flower shop au??
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kamesama · 1 year ago
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i draw occasionally & i wanted to post. my silly man 🎀
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kamesama · 1 year ago
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when i say i nearly CHOKED. kicking my feet RIGHT NOW! it's my evil pookie husband 😳
JJK MATCHUP EXCHANGE — @kamesama
Your match is...
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— Ryomen Sukuna
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There is something very promising about matching you two together, starting with the contrast in your temperaments, which is apparent to everyone, and one might think it would never work… But I believe, on the contrary, that fire and water can create the most interesting supernatural phenomena.
I get the impression that you might be looking for someone on your level who understands who you are in your deepest aspects and can bring them to light. Not necessarily because Sukuna would encourage you, but because something about him drives you to reveal your hidden strengths. Perhaps in a desire to assert yourself, prove your worth, and stand up to the demon. Not that you have anything to prove to him, but there is something satisfying about resisting the most powerful of sorcerers. You are not easy to overthrow behind your wise appearances, and I am convinced he would appreciate that calm challenge that I am sure you are capable of throwing, even against a great adversary.
Despite his airs of grandeur and megalomania, something tells me that Sukuna would rather be attracted to someone humble, who knows how to measure both their words and their strength. Someone who can bring balance to his overwhelming power, like a marker to follow. It may seem contradictory for someone who loves to sow chaos, but I believe that in the midst of the battlefield, there is always a bud ready to bloom. Yes, his tendency to only respect the powerful applies to those whose minds can rival his own.
You could even find very interesting common ground in your conversations. Discussing the state of humanity, what it has been, and what it will be. He would tell you about the wars he has lived through, and perhaps you would listen attentively without ever agreeing with his violence, but seeking to understand where it comes from. Where does he draw the source of his destructive power from? Finding the answer, and why not tame the demon in what he believes to be his favorite terrain. Transmit your inner peace to his, sow the seed of another way of doing things. Conquer war without ever waging it.
There is something terribly appealing about the idea of winning without having to draw the sword from its scabbard. Perhaps because your words are sharp, you know perfectly how to hit the mark and point out the inconsistencies in the other to transform them into something better. Kings are often said to be very lonely, ruling on their throne of solitude. Something about you could make a queen by his side, establishing a nuanced kingdom. Destruction is not necessary if nothing better can be rebuilt behind it.
I have the feeling that your relationship would play out a lot on intellectual challenge and translate into occasional physical closeness. I can't help but think that the physical is a very important notion for Sukuna, probably one of his main languages. Destruction is his guise, but I have a hunch that he can and would perfectly give to someone who teaches him how. Human warmth is certainly a concept he is very unfamiliar with, but I believe you would know perfectly well how to guide the man to admit it in his most intimate corners. Gestures both gentle and firm. A voice that insinuates itself with calm and precision. You lead this dance he has never led, a war he may agree to lose.
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I definitely ship you both lol. I'm truly convinced that it could work.
A word about your match: It was between Nanami and Sukuna. I chose Sukuna because of the very powerful potential I think you would share together.
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kamesama · 1 year ago
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— match-up trade: jjk.
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for @jae-pudding › match-up trades › i think it's safe to say i made up my mind fairly quickly, but it was a close call between two characters... i'm not gonna keep rambling; i hope you like it!
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your match: gojō satoru.
mischievous pranks. learning new things. the most random trivia casually shared throughout an outing. matching clothes. simple-looking but expensive gifts. taste of mint and ice. grunge. polaroids kept in phone-cases, wallets or nightstand's drawers. sunglasses. takeout. paint splattered across a pure white canvas. selfies portraying bright smiles, taken on a whim. men's labello lip balm. squeezed citrus. being eager to speak even with mouth full. conversing well into the night and realising it's 2am. movie nights; salt on your lips and body under a blanket. video games with vhs filter.
there are plenty of similarities, such as the most obvious affection for the mischief as your lips struggle not to arch into a grin whilst some poor unfortunate soul's tongue stumbles over words — or the lack of thereof. the hunger for mental stimuli is clearly present, and gojō satoru would so very love to satiate it. or at least attempt to, for such starvations are oftentimes a pull of gaping bottomless holes.
a potential for acquaintanceship is clearly present, along with the smallest tidbit for some friendly rivalry, or a partnership in crime. it starts with a knowing glance thrown across the room, followed by the nod utterly drenched in understanding before all chaos breaks loose — your words braid together perfectly, fitting like puzzle pieces to form a proper, believing story. it is very likely that yūji ends up victim to your schemes — megumi had long learned not to trust whatever symbiosis occurs between you and gojō-sensei.
but it wouldn't be gojō satoru if he didn't nick a nerve or two; all your similarities aside, this man makes for a far messier phenomena than you could ever hope to be. watch him arrive late to an appointed date, his posture outlined with leisure and with a shameless smile on his face. he makes up for it, though, confident that he could bribe you with your favourite snack or sweet. or his charm, if need be. perhaps a little exasperating, but it wouldn't be a match if it ticked all the boxes, now would it?
yes, he is skilled in everything he tries, but that brings with it an unshakable confidence. should you wish to explore a new place, visit some exotic spot or try something completely insane, gojō would very well be your partner in crime. true, he may whine and pout here and there, but would he say no to something interesting and exciting? never. in fact, he may just come like a whirlwind and suggest you join him on his newest 'that-came-out-of-nowhere' trip. and trust me, he can be very persuasive himself.
there is a lot of space. akin to a cat, gojō sometimes displays fragments of clingy behaviour, but he is more than content with any distance you may desire. he is not tied down by some conservative view of handling one's emotions or expressing their feelings, so there's a sense of respect and understanding towards the ways you digest yours. gojō can stand his own ground, for independence seeps from his very pores. that being said, satoru does not embody an image of someone that you could dislike, for he is witty, capable, and knowledgeable. he may not look like it, but he is a good listener; as someone without all too many hobbies, gojō would adore to at the very least hear you speak of your own interests. go on, tell him how bothersome and insistent weeds in your garden seem to be.
and speaking of digestion, you better believe that satoru indulges you and your cravings — whether they include that itch for knowledge and something new, or a desire to try out that delectable option on the menu of a new restaurant. if anything, you may find satoru eye you as you erase the attribute of 'famished' off your name. there is something cute about it, he says, don't mind me, keep eating.
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other matches: nanami kento.
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thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
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kamesama · 1 year ago
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ooo your one word drabble thing sounds so cool i hope you don't mind me popping in :)) how about sukuna and rain 😊
HI, GLAD TO SEE YOU IN MY INBOX 🤭 this is literally 4th sukuna prompt, y'all feeding me.
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— rain: ryōmen sukuna. ( one word prompt )
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cold, wet and grey — a combination that summarised an utterly boring day. desire for slumber weighed upon his eyelids as the muscles supporting his jaw stretched to allow a departure of a yawn. it poured so much on the opposite side of the window that his ears had long grown accustomed to the sound of water slamming onto the rooftops and balcony tiles. give it some time and it turns calming, he concluded. the roar of thunder filled him with a weird sense of satisfaction. so did the way you were curled up against him, snoozing whilst enveloped in the warmth of his hoodie. rain, you had told him, makes me sleepy. perhaps, in another minute or two, his phone will slip out of his hand as his eyes flutter closed, too.
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thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
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kamesama · 1 year ago
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Hulloooos Kamebbys! 🌸
Eid Mubarak once again, and I hope you get much needed rest soons 🍀 sending you panccs of patience ༼ つ ◕_◕༽つ ✨ 🥞 ✨
For one word prompts: Sukuna + Countryside ? 👀
eid mubarak bbys !! and to everyone else who celebrates 💐 i literally know that you sent this to indulge me, bbys. ily. this is, in fact, written in the countryside.
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— countryside: ryōmen sukuna. ( one word prompt )
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bold poppy swaying in the wind. woodpecker agitating the sparrows. beams of sunlight bursting through treetops. lizards basking in the heat. lamb crying somewhere faraway. it was oddly peaceful despite the amount of life; the smell of linden lulled his senses while linen bedsheets hung on a string. maybe he didn't truly like the countryside. maybe he just relished in the sensation of your fingers in his hair and his head in your lap as cicadas rambled on and on and on.
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thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
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kamesama · 1 year ago
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Hiii! I love your writings so much, especially the way you write Sukuna 🫶🏻😭
I saw your one-prompt writing post and was thinking if you could please write Sukuna + Fireflies?
🙇🏻‍♀️ please ignore this request if it doesn't make sense
Anyways, 🫸🏻❤️💙🫷🏻🤞🏻🫴🏻💜
did you really come to request sukuna and left with hollow: purple? but ayy, tysm !! and no worries, i found a way to implement fireflies w/ sukuna. speaking of, i've seen them around this year !! i haven't seen fireflies in AGES.
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— fireflies: ryōmen sukuna. ( one word prompt )
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scorching air melted skin off flesh and flesh off bones. greedy, gluttonous flames gnawed the metal and devoured the wood; famished. which was louder — the shattering of glass, crumbling of buildings or screaming of innocents? he couldn't care less. it was a chaotic masterpiece; a temporary high that pulled corners of his accursed lips upwards with a touch of sickening amusement, keeping it there as long as the world shattered, crumbled and screamed. it was a sight to behold; like fireflies, embers floated across the darkness shrouding the once glowing, buzzing shibuya. and then . . . silence.
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thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
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