shokosbunny

[shokosbunny]

what? i'd never....

yes

I can't figure out which one of these yandere oneshots (or series knowing me lmao) I wanna work on this wk, help me decide please, I could go either way!

College Student Gojo hcs here CEO Sukuna ones here

[shokosbunny]

sienna try not to be biased challenge 👁️👁️

I can't figure out which one of these yandere oneshots (or series knowing me lmao) I wanna work on this wk, help me decide please, I could go either way!

College Student Gojo hcs here CEO Sukuna ones here

[shokosbunny]

YES!!! to all of this.

okay I've been seeing so much discourse about characterization and the popularity of smut particularly in fanfics, and while usually, I keep my mouth shut lol I just wanted to chime in with my two cents because I think its more nuanced than people want to admit - and just a heads up I will block anyone who wants to be a dick in the comments because this is supposed to be a constructive conversation about being more supportive and fostering a more interactive community as a whole - this is NOT to shame anyone who prefers fluff to smut or vice versa.

the reason there's so much smut on here is simple. and I've literally seen people call it a porn addiction problem, but really, I think it is much rather an attention-span problem. other content does not get nearly as much traction point-blank. the only content that will get even CLOSE to as much traction is smaus - because they are easy to read and include typically every character so it caters to everyone but if you don't write smaus, most people will not stick around to read a wall of text unless they recognize the account or it is formatted a particular way. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO LONG FORM CONTENT.

short blurbs/drabbles of fluff do occasionally get popular - but if it's a long fic? a slow burn or build? it will often get scrolled past. people say they want this and want long fics and all the drama and angst, and then only read completed fics rather than interact with an ongoing one that would encourage the creator to actually complete it. and a lot of times if the long fic contains no to very little smut, they will rarely get interaction at all. and yeah, sure, sometimes it's just life or other stuff that get in the way, but I think most people with unfinished fics would credit that to lack of motivation.

a LOT of creators who DID start writing fluff or only longer content on here end up switching over time because it can be so disheartening to see something you work on essentially flop. and I would say that for most of them - its NOT just about notes. it's about actually commenting and really INTERACTING with people over it. a comment is going to mean a lot more than a like.

my most popular post on here is this - which is literally less than 400 words and feeds into the most popular characterization of a nanami. and if you look at a majority of the most popular content for this fandom - you'll find a lot of the same. short, easily consumable, and based around sex in some way.

while stuff that goes AGAINST what the popular fandom version of a character will get you the bad kind of interaction where people complain about and start arguments over your own interpretation of a character. myself and SEVERAL other creators I've spoken to privately on here have experienced it where people latch onto a specific perception of a character and lash out when it's challenged. and typically, it's over a character where there isn't a lot of long form content for (WHICH THEY SAY THEY WANT!) however, they fail to realize by acting this and directing this negativity TOWARDS creators and making demands, it turns them off from ever writing for said character again.

if you dislike something a character does or is portrayed or you want to see it a certain way, you SHOULD scroll then. it is your responsibility to choose what content you consume or write it yourself. fan fiction is geared towards the fans - but that doesn't mean it's made for YOU specifically. publicly posting and saying that you hate when writers do x thing that is hyper specific and openly disparages on someone else's creation is really damaging as a whole to what should be a fun space.

just let people write whatever weird and wild shit they want. if you don't like it, move on. if you do, you have to show it. comment and like and leave asks and start conversations. I know it's awkward at first and it's hard to put yourself out there, but I promise that it's scary for the creators too! most of them will genuinely be THRILLED if you leave a comment or an ask - even if they don't respond right away. so many people are silent observers, which I don't blame you for, I actually completely understand, but as someone who has seen and experienced first-hand what a big difference there can be on posts with smut vs without smut, it is very easy to see what makes something popular despite what is actually good quality writing. some really fantastic posts I've seen have CRIMINALLY low notes and there's been a few that I've literally hated with all my heart that had thousands. but did I post about those? no. I blocked and moved on with my life.

if you want more fluff, you HAVE to interact with fluff. if you don't like smut, just block the tags. if you enjoy a creator's work, tell them!

there are already so many toxic places and fandoms already out there - and there are definitely corners where this one is too. but as someone with a pretty decent platform, I would like to make it clear that we should all foster as supportive of an environment as possible and start a positive and more informative conversation about it rather than just shitting on people who enjoy smut or dismiss those who genuinely just want more fluff/angst content. I know I've said it before, but I'm going to reiterate it again - if you ever read a good fic, tag me! I don't always have a lot of time to read, but I do reblog the ones I enjoy and come across so I'd be more than happy to highlight what you send me too.

[shokosbunny]

crush update soon ? 😪😪

well....

[shokosbunny]

Chamber of Reflection

how could the one you trusted the most be the one to put your through this much torture?

pairings- kidnapper!satoru x f!reader x (ex?)boyfriend!suguru

synopsis- satoru gojo was by all means your closest best friend and probably the best person in your life in general, besides your boyfriend suguru. but how does the person closest to you now become the one you hate most and strip you of everything you love? keeping you prisoner in his penthouse, the one you once thought was sweet and safe you now realise is truly just psychotic and a twisted-in love with you-monster.

warnings- mdni, eventual smut (not in this chapter technically), extreme angst, VERY DUBCON, HEAVY YANDERE GOJO, schizophrenia and broken psychosis (satoru), kidnapping, manipulation, mental abuse, domestic violence, eventual stockholm syndrome, overall very dark content. modern day au where satoru is a ceo of one the largest companies in Tokyo with suguru lol. This part- heavy angst, slapping, torture, manipulation, faking being in love to avoid torture, talks of past suicide attempts, being left tied up, literally gagged and bound to a bed (YALL PLEASE HE IS BATSHIT INSANE).

taglist is open.

Sickness, a mind numbing, disgusting sickness that you feel in the pit of your stomach. It was like a curse shaped into reality, disguised by the sweetness of what was once before. How could someone you once trusted with your life, be the one to strip you of it. Absolutely fucking sickening.

The front door clicks open and the music he oh so graciously left on for you suddenly stops.. the only sense you have left trying to listen to the footsteps you know so well. But like usual he catches you off guard.. disguising his steps like a mouse so that you don’t expect him, but that's all he wants-you to want and expect him, like he does with you. Your body jerks as you feel the palm you know all too well, softly touch your face like a prayer. A lie of love wrapped in the terrifying truth. But does he realize this isn’t love? A part of you wishes, but you know.. you know it couldn’t be that simple, it's twisted and he believes with every fiber of his being that this is love and that this is normal.

“Did you miss me while I was at work today, pretty girl?” the coo of his words sends bile straight into your mouth, oh how you are so fucking disgusted by him. But you play the game, nodding your head gently, not daring to speak.. not like you could anyways with it being bound with a gag. You can’t see him with the fabric covering your eyes that he tied in a perfect bow before he left for work, but you know by heart that the satisfied pleasure of a grin graces his face at your obedient nod. Finally, the blindfold slips and you can see the breathtaking blue eyes of your once best friend and closest person in your life. But now they are the eyes of your captor and in a sick way that he thrives off of.. still the closest person in your life-albeit not by choice like before. He gently unties the gag, fingers ghosting your cheek as he does, like you are a little doll that he loves more than anything, fucking lies. You cough once your mouth is finally free, whimpering slightly as your body adjusts to your senses once again, you would think you would be used to this routine by now, but how could you be?

“Awe sweetheart..” Satoru tuts as he swipes some of your spit that spilled onto your lips bringing it to his own lips and sucking on that fucking finger. You hide your disgust with a soft slightly twitching forced smile. “My messy girl.. I missed you so much. My mind was only on you while I was gone.. it pained my soul to leave you.” he purrs like you are his lover.. not his fucking prisoner.

“Mhm..” you mumble shakily looking down at the ground of your cage.. but at least he still cared about your comfort in a twisted way. The cage you felt like you were in was just a carbon copy, down to the pink rhinestone heart sticker you had on the mirror of your vanity, of your old room, in your old apartment. You first wondered if it was the same things from before but you knew.. that his sick obsession and obscene amount of money, everything was brand new and perfect. He made it the exact same, just for you, because he loves you, he insists. He knew everything you owned from all the times he spent in your room playing the best friend you always were so grateful to have. Close like no other.. and safe. Safe, you feel so stupid now for thinking of him as that, because now it is a word you couldn’t imagine associated with Satoru. You could see twisted, evil, manipulative, and psychotic.. but not safe, unless you gaslighted yourself, like he worked so hard to have you be like with all the lies of love that he feeds you.

“How was work?” you softly murmur watching his face with faux adoration so that he will take it as the love he craves even if it is utter bullshit.

“It was boring.. the usual shit of being a CEO for one of the most important companies in Tokyo. Suguru and I are in a bit of a disagreement of how we want to pursue certain things so that was a fucking bitch to deal with.” Satoru rambles as he toys with your hair like second nature. He glares for a split second, his fingers tightening slightly when your eyes show a flash of life at the mention of Suguru. “He doesn’t care about you. You should know that by now. He didn’t come looking for you.” the words slip from his mouth without hesitation, a means to gaslight you further. He knows what he is doing, and disguises it in his brain as a way to prove you only need him, because you do.

“Does he still look for-” unable to stop your response despite knowing you shouldn't, but he cuts your mumbled words off for you with a harsh slap. The look of horror crosses your face which circuits his hate in his twisted brain and he immediately fawns over you peppering your face with kisses. The terrifying instant regret of hurting you.. his precious treasure, only fucking his.

“Shh shh shh I didn’t mean that angel I’m sorry… don’t fucking look at me like that. You love me. Stop staring like you fucking hate me. I’m sorry I love you my darling... don’t cry please.” His quick changes in his words and the look on his face immediately snap you back into submission, reassuring him with a sniffle and a soft smile that reads that you are ok to him. An out of fear response from you-that he would do like he has done in the past when you mention Suguru, your “boyfriend” and his oblivious best friend, and choke you to the point of unconsciousness, and hold you till you wake apologizing profusely. Months of the torture and captivity made you smarter but you still fuck up every once in a while, because how could you not, you didn’t fucking ask to be kidnapped by your lovesick insane best friend.

“I’m just uhm tired Satoru.. obviously I haven’t eaten all day.. I’m sorry.” You quickly backtrack in a hushed mumble, lying through your teeth in a sickingly sweet voice that makes you want to vomit-because he loves that voice and you would rather deal with the happier and in love side of his insanity than the monster he truly is. He immediately perks up like a puppy kissing your cheek one last time before untying you from the confines on the bed in your cage.

“I should have realized I’m sorry my sweet girl.” He cooes before his face twists again a flicker of the psychotic side, “I am a horrible lover. Stupid. Fucking stupid.” He hisses eyes darting as looks at his hands, like a shattered mirror of a personality, that realizes his own insanity in blinks. Not wanting to be the one at the end of the hand you immediately touch his face gently, lovingly for him but disgust for yourself, not caring that your wrists are sore and practically numb from the restraints that restricted you all day. He immediately nuzzles your palm and the in love dopey look appears back on his face.

“Let me feed you, beautiful.” He murmurs softly, delicately pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, before standing almost about to turn and leave you alone in this cage once again. As much as you hate him you would rather have company then the numbness of being alone once more.

“Satoru, let me sit out in the living room while you cook please?” The soft purr of your words immediately makes him happy to do as you ask, since you said it oh so sweetly. But he knows that the restraints you have been in make it impossible to walk-your legs feeling like jello from the restraints as you are still adjusting to being free once again-months of knowledge of this torture on you make him an expert. With a sick look of glee plastered on his face, Satoru carries you to the couch in the living room, sitting you down on the cushions like you are the most fragile thing in the world. It always makes you wonder if that's why he still keeps you in restraints despite knowing you couldn’t escape with the many locks he has on your cage. To carry you like a doting lover, and not the sick and twisted nightmare he is. The soft plush of his lips presses against your forehead before he grabs the remote, turning on mindless television for you as he walks off to the kitchen.

You gaze out the ceiling length windows of his penthouse, and remember, you think it was around a month after being kidnapped that you desperately tried to break the glass while Satoru was in the restroom-even throwing one of the kitchen chairs at the windows. But it was to no avail even before Satoru grabbed you from behind, preventing you from doing anything further that was reckless and could potentially hurt a hair on your body. Although you know now it was stupidity to try and escape that way, at the time you would rather be dead than stuck with him a moment more. It was the next best option at the time because he put the knives and anything you could hurt yourself with under lock and key, because the sick bastard knew. He knew death was all you craved and sobbed about for hours on end till no more tears could possibly leave your body. At least then you had a sliver of hope and not just this never ending numbness of a nightmare. You are pulled from your thoughts as you hear Satoru talking about something, probably to himself, like he always does without realizing. Not the kind of talking to yourself that one would consider normal but as if there was another individual in the room that he could see and would communicate back and forth with him. But that individual was just a fraction of his brain, whether that's the monster or the lovesick happy dopey idiot or another personality entirely that you are terrified to meet? You never can tell-as its always hushed conversations amongst himself, a prisoner to his own mental realm.

Slowly the feeling comes back to your legs and you stand walking to the restroom. When you gaze at yourself in the mirror that hangs above the marble sink you feel disgusted. Definitely not by your appearance-because one thing Satoru always does is pamper you like a princess, never letting you look less than your perfect self-but the dead look in your eyes. The light is all gone from them, just replaced by a dull almost drugged state. It always makes you feel so sick, wanting to break the mirror into shards, like Satoru’s psychosis, but you never do. You at least want to remember what you look like even if you feel dead inside, to remember what you once were. Happy.

[shokosbunny]

Love the way you lie Yandere/Serial Killer! Nanami x F!Reader Summary:  Everyone is nice at your new accounting job, and it’s a pretty calming workplace. However, there is one person there who sticks out like a sore thumb. Kento Nanami. A very polished, well-kept, and attractive man. A little too good to be true–or so you thought. After weeks of office romance, he finally takes you out for drinks. He takes you back to his place afterwards to continue the fun. As you took a sip of the drink he gave you, your vision began to blur. It was too late for you to run. As you regain consciousness, you realize the Kento you had been talking to was just a fake. Never was interested. Never cared about what you talked about. Only wanted to lure you right where he wanted.

Warning- This is for mature audiences ONLY 18+ MINORS DNI, NSFW, forced relationship, reader develops stockholm syndrome, non-con, Nanami is batshit crazy, murder, masturbation, explicit sex, knife play, manipulation, somonophilia, physical abuse, psychological horror, mind games, reader has a mental breakdown(I don't blame her), obsessive behavior, dark, gore, Nanami is a serial killer, violence, drug use, alcohol use, mental illness.

Chapter One It was a rainy day downtown where you worked. You had stepped out of the cab and headed inside to your workplace. As you walked towards the elevator, you saw one of your co-workers, Kento Nanami. You smiled as you greeted him, “Good morning, Kento.” Kento looked up at you and gave you a faint smile. “Morning, y/n, how is your morning going so far?” he asked as you both got onto the elevator. He pressed the button to go to the eighth floor as you began to start rambling on about how shitty of a morning you were having. He couldn’t care less about anything you were saying; his eyes began to wander as he looked at your lips as you talked. He noticed the small amount of red pigment that was in the lip gloss you used, smelled that cheap perfume you wore, your half-wrinkled white button-down shirt with a black skirt a little too short, if you asked him. If it were any other woman, Kento would be uninterested, but you? You were just so perfect to him.

The perfect victim woman for him.

His daydreaming was cut short when the elevator dinged and the doors opened to the boring workplace, causing you to cut the conversation short and head to your claimed cubicle, and Kento to his. You had decorated your cubicle with cute Hello Kitty decor and even replaced your keyboard with an aesthetic pink one. You had pictures of family and friends. Whenever Kento would visit your cubicle, he would look at the photos you had. Looking for any male and asked you about your relationship with them. You didn’t find it strange; you thought he was just trying to get to know you.

Kento was looking to see if any parasites were attempting to take you away from him. During his break, Kento sat in his car, listening to you talk to another co-worker from the wire he put underneath your desk.

“I’ve been single for a while now. It’s like I'm almost invisible to guys out there, seriously! I wonder when my prince charming will come in and sweep me off my feet…” Kento leaned back in the driver's seat, listening to you talk about your love life, but he just wanted to understand how you never noticed the way he looked at you, how nice he was, and he even bought you coffee now and then.

Why were you searching for other men when he was right there for you? Waiting for you. He wondered night when he would lay in his bed, with a picture of you in one hand and his cock in the other, when you would realize that he was the one for you. One night, you were searching for your favorite pair of panties. You thought you were losing your mind because they were in the first row of your drawer the night before. You eventually gave up, as you thought you had just misplaced them. Another night, you had lost another pair.

Now you were convinced that maybe your washing machine was eating them. Meanwhile, Kento had one pair of panties on the tip of his nose and the other pair wrapped around his cock as he stroked himself. He started to whimper as he began to lick the seat of your panties that sat on his face. “Oh fuck…oh fuck..y/n” he said as he threw his head back, cumming all over your panties and his hand.

“Good morning, Kento!” you said, peeking around his cubicle. “Good morning. Did you need anything?” he asked, taking in your warm scent as you leaned over closer to her with a paper in your hand. “I was wondering if you could help me out a bit with this? The deadline is this friday and I don’t want to piss off boss man again..” you said puffing out your cheeks a little, placing the paper on his desk.

Kento couldn’t help but tune you out and take a slight peek at your hardened nipples through your button-down shirt. He felt his cock harding in his pants as you spoke. “Kento..?” you said, bringing him back to reality, and he snapped his head back up, and your eyes met.  "Hm...? Oh—yeah, sure. I'll help you," Kento said, blinking as he snapped out of his daze. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "I should have this done by the end of the next hour." 

Thank you so much, Kento. I owe you one!” you said, brushing against his arm and then turning on your heels to rush back to your cubicle. Kento felt his cock twitch in his pants when you touched his arm. He could have sworn he was dreaming. He watched you walk away in such awe, remembering what you just told him.

You now owe him…

Later that day, you were coming back from your break when you saw the paper you had given Kento back on your desk, completed. You quickly grabbed the paper, scanning it in awe at how quickly he was able to finish it. You rush over to his desk to thank him, but he isn’t there. “Is there something you need?” Kento said, appearing behind you. You felt your soul leave your body as you turned around to look up at him.

“Oh, um, I just wanted to say thank you for getting this done so quickly, and if you ever needed a favor, let me know!” you said, giving him a bright smile. Kento felt like this was the perfect opportunity. He had you right where he wanted.

“Well, earlier, you said you owed me. I think you should let me take you out for drinks Friday night.” Kento said, watching your face to see your reaction. What if you said no? All the efforts he made, and you reject him. Of course, he’d be heartbroken, but he’d just have to try harder to make you his. Whether you liked it or not.

You were shocked at the fact that Kento asked you out. He is very attractive, very nice, and has shown you he’s willing to help out. There were no red flags at all about the man–or so you thought. If only you knew the hole you dug yourself when you accepted his invitation.

“She said yes! Can you believe that?”

Kento said, sharpening his knife in the cold, dark basement of his. A young woman, she was close in age to you, with the same hair color. Kento had kidnapped her a couple of days ago. Her arms and legs were chained to a wooden chair in the middle of the room.

Kento had turned on a small radio that played classical music as he turned to her. “I am one step closer to being with the woman I desire; therefore, there is no longer a need for you, sweetheart.” Her screams were muffled due to being gagged with a sock, her eyes red, face soaked with tears but Kento didn’t care; all he cared about was being with you. Her pleas and cries were ignored as Kento walked up to the sobbing woman with the knife in his hand.

Part 2

[shokosbunny]

sorry motHEr i Like Pink it's gonna have to be flaMingo pErsonally

[shokosbunny]

🥺🥺🥺

thinking about how nanami doesn’t do baby talk with your daughter.

he made it clear from the very beginning. the day you found out you were pregnant, he kissed your forehead, pressed a hand to your still flat belly, and said, “i refuse to do baby talk  just so we’re clear.”

you laughed at the time, thought he was joking. but he wasn’t.

when she was born, he cradled her like glass. spoke to her like she understood everything. whispered soft things in her ear in that calm, low voice of his. not nonsense or silly rhymes, but actual words. real language. “you’re safe.” “you’re loved.” “i’ll always be here.”

and that’s how it’s been ever since.

now she’s four, and still, he doesn’t coo or squeal or make exaggerated cartoon voices. he doesn’t squish her cheeks and call her a wittle cutie pie. he doesn’t baby her.

he calls her “sweetheart,” “darling,” “honey” in that same even tone he uses with everyone, but softer. slower. warmer. like his words are only hers.

he talks to her like she’s someone worth listening to.

and she talks back like she knows she’s being taken seriously.

when she tells him her teddy bear is sick and needs emergency surgery, he clears his schedule and lays out tissues like gauze pads. “what’s the diagnosis?” he asks, serious as ever. “fuzzy fever,” she says, frowning. “then we’ll need extra care and plenty of rest,” he replies, adjusting the little stuffed limbs with practiced hands. he doesn’t do pretend very often at all, but for her? he’ll play nurse, doctor, and emotional support all at once.

he doesn't speak down to her, ever. when she asks questions (and she asks a lot) he answers every single one like it’s important. “why is the sky blue?” “because of the way light scatters in the atmosphere.” “what’s a mortgage?” “a financial agreement. you don’t need to worry about that just yet.” she hums and nods like she understands, like she’s filing it away for later.

he teaches her things gently. slowly. patiently. “we use kind hands.” “we speak clearly when we’re upset.” “it’s okay to cry, but we don’t throw our toys.”

he doesn’t yell. doesn’t raise his voice. doesn’t huff or sigh in frustration. when she’s overwhelmed, he just kneels beside her, rests a hand on her back, and says, “it’s a big feeling. take your time.”

and she trusts him. wholly. fully. because he’s never once made her feel small. never once laughed when she stuttered through a sentence or tried to use a big word she didn’t quite understand. instead, he gently repeats the word for her. uses it in a sentence. helps her try again.

and she calls him “dad,” but sometimes “sir” slips in when she’s mimicking the way others speak to him. she does it with such seriousness that it breaks something soft in his chest. he pretends not to react, but you’ve seen the way he glances away quickly, like he needs a moment to collect himself.

he doesn’t tell her she’s cute. but he tells her she’s clever. tells her he’s proud of how kind she is. “you were very thoughtful today,” he says after she offers you the last cookie. “you showed great emotional maturity,” he tells her when she apologizes after a tantrum.

and when she’s tired. really tired. she crawls into his lap without saying a word. he always opens his arms. always shifts to make space. he strokes her hair, rests his cheek on top of her head, and murmurs, “you did your best today. that’s all i’ll ever ask.”

and she falls asleep there, every time, safe in the arms of a man who never babbles, never sings off-key lullabies, but always shows up. always protects her. always sees her.

and when you ask her who her best friend is, she says “dad” without hesitation. when you ask her why, she shrugs and says, “he listens to me better than anyone else.”

and it’s true.

he listens when she talks about butterflies and princesses and space robots. he listens when she says she’s scared of thunderstorms. he listens when she says she wants to be a firefighter and a ballet dancer and also maybe a sea turtle. he never tells her it’s silly. never laughs.

so no, nanami doesn’t do baby talk. he doesn’t sing silly songs or play peek-a-boo. but he shows up to every tea party. he folds her tiny socks like they’re made of gold. he takes her hand when they cross the street, holds it like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. and when he tucks her in at night, he kisses her forehead and says, “you’re growing into someone wonderful.”

and really, that means more than any silly voice or rhyming song ever could. because nanami doesn’t just raise a daughter; he raises a whole person

[shokosbunny]

i'm so fucked up for this why did i leave y'all hanging 😭😭😭

CRAVE - chapter seven

nav 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

masterlist 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ • previous 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

chapter warnings: use of profanity, mild argument, brief mentions of grooming/toxicity

the subsequent solitary walk of shame back to your apartment provides the perfect environment for you to think about what exactly you were going to say to naoya.

you’ve faced the facts. you don't love him anymore. the man you fell in love with is gone. in fact, there's a high chance that he never even existed, and naoya put up a good facade long enough for you to get attached, until he was sure you loved him too much to leave.

you look back on your entire relationship with the man. you had met him at megumi’s 15th birthday party. he said all the right things, telling you how you were much smarter, more mature than other girls your age. he gave all the right signals, and by the time you started officially dating on your 18th birthday, you were madly in love.

no one approved. not your friends, not your parents. hell, even megumi’s parents, toji and mina fushiguro, who had known you since middle school, told - no - begged you not to waste your youth on a man like naoya, and that if you didn't see it now, you'd learn when it was too late.

it's like a veil has been lifted off your eyes. you realise that it wasn't naoya’s age that made him mature. in all other aspects, he was like a pubescent boy, petulant, selfish and disrespectful.

but yuta… god. you don't think he has a single selfish bone in his body.

you know what you have to do.

“we’re not breaking up,” naoya says with certainty, looking at you as if you're stupid, high, concussed or all three.

“naoya,” you say placatingly, as if negotiating with a toddler. “we aren't compatible anymore. the signs have been there-”

“goddamnit, y/n, i said we are not breaking up!” naoya snaps. he always yells when he doesn't get his way. but again, so do you.

“don't raise your fucking voice at me!” you retort, before he can even finish his sentence.

“i don't want you anymore, i know damn well why you're so secretive and distant, and you know this isn't going anywhere, so why are you trying so hard to grasp onto this…concept of a relationship?!”

“because- this- you don't know what you're saying, baby,” is his response. he’s choosing to go the consolatory route in a last ditch effort to delay the inevitable.

“this is just a rough patch. we can get through this, we’ve done it before, yeah?”

you shake your head, determined not to let your resolve crumble. “no, naoya. come on. we’ve only been together a year, and we argue on and off like we're on the cusp of a divorce. you cheated on me. i...may have cheated on you. this-”

“wait,” he interrupts. “you what?”

damn your honesty.

“yeah,” you breathe out. the relationship is basically over, so you see no point in hiding it.

��when? it was your birthday, right? that's why you got so-” he begins, and you tune him out on his rant as he paces the length of your bedroom.

for all his flaws, naoya is impeccably sharp. he can practically sense your focus shifting before it even fully happens, and snaps his fingers in front of your face.

“hey,” he says. “don't do that, you know it pisses me off.”

“sorry,” you respond, more as a formality than anything else. “but, yeah. it's best if we don't continue this. you're better off with a girl…well, your age.”

naoya scoffs. “you don't say. last time i mess with a fickle brat.”

“last time i mess with a pedophile,” comes your grumbled retort.

the ordeal is more peaceful than you anticipated, and in mere minutes, he’s gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

next 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

tags: @toniseweje @tsukuhoe @itsafairytalekay @ayla-1605 @moncher-ire @rikaroses @starrysho @blu3-l0v3r @number0netrash @zayuriluvs @susiekern @mikamii25 @vorfreudevortex @q2uq2u @ermbehindyou @mayyhaps @nomoreilovesyou @good-mourning0 @revolvinggeto @4crewz

[shokosbunny]

i say socks off cuz everything else is off plus my feet will get hot and i'll cry

Omg you guys PLEASE help me settle this debate Im having with my friends!! When y’all are about to fuck and are taking your clothes off, do you take your socks off also or leave them on??

[shokosbunny]

it's 11:44pm and i could've gone to sleep an hour ago but i just started a new routine and i forced myself to stick to it who cheered!

[shokosbunny]

OMG WAIT FELLOW NIGERIAN ANON HIT ME UPPPPP

as a nigerian person, the last 2 asks about gojo are frying me SO BADD oh my god😭😭 im so fucking glad i follow you i cant stop laughing

LMAO I’m glad you’re enjoying ur stay in yenaland, we don’t take anything seriously here 😭 the only thing that’s canon is sukuna having 2 big fat dicks

[shokosbunny]

satoru gojo is the firmest believer in “happy wife, happy life.” the most unshakable. the hottest. he could be waist-deep in an existential crisis and still be like, “well. as long as my wifey is smiling.”

it’s a religion to him. a sacred vow. a life mission. if you're happy, he's happy. if you're not? well. nothing on this planet will know peace until you are.

it doesn't matter how unreasonable you are being. you want boba at 3 a.m.? he is up, wallet in hand, calling every store in the prefecture and weighing the pros and cons of teleporting to tokyo. you suddenly decide you want to switch meals at the restaurant, even though he was craving what he ordered? done. he'll swap with a smile. even offer you a bite like it was his idea all along. you want the pink cup and not the blue one even though they’re literally identical? absolutely. he will throw the blue one in the garbage. permanently banned.

and if you’re being a little difficult on purpose? poking the bear just to see him pout? he eats it up.. you roll your eyes and mutter, “i'm not talking to you,” and he gasps like he’s been stabbed, clutching his chest like a drama queen. “my wife is ignoring me?? my sweet angel? the love of my life?? what did i do?”

(he knows what he did. he laughed when you tripped up the stairs. it was objectively funny. he paid the price.)

he brings peace offerings. your favorite snack. your favorite drink. kisses your forehead and goes, “is it working? are you smiling yet? do i get wife points?” he's literally whining because you're not looking at him. even worse if you are but you're doing the squinty eye thing. the judgmental one. he melts.

satoru will cancel meetings, skip training, straight up dodge calls from the higher-ups if you so much as pout. if you say, “toru, you're pissing me off, stop doing that,” he smiles like he just got a love letter. if you say, “i don't feel like cooking,” he's already tying an apron around his waist and muttering, “say less, princess.”

he doesn’t care if anyone calls him whipped. he knows he is. proudly. happily. he wants to be whipped. he wants to be the poster boy for “husband of the year” with a little sticker that says “will do anything for kisses.”

because at the end of the day, nothing—literally nothing—makes him feel stronger, happier, or more invincible than seeing you spoiled, smiling, and just a little smug about it.

(you should be. he raised the standard.)

[shokosbunny]

i remember when i started this account and my username was hoesluvshoko it was lowkey iconic i shouldve kept it

[shokosbunny]

I swear I've been seeing you everywhere on tumblr recently so I decided to finally check out your page and you seem so nice and your such an amazing writer AND YOUR BLOG IS SO CUTIEEE I WANNA BE FRIENDS 😭😭😭

OMG NEW FRIEND NEW FRIEND NEW FRIEND

this is so sweet omg i knew being chronically online would pay off! welcome bby i lurv you

[shokosbunny]

what.

You know what you can make nastier than Controller Ch 5? Controller Ch 19 😎

what i have in store for ch 19 will make u rip your hair out and not in the freaky nasty way

the last thing you’ll be thinking about is those two fucking MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA

[shokosbunny]

that moment when ur reading a jjk smau and it’s suddenly aave/blaccent when you get to toji and sukuna