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sinzana · 3 years
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what i thought was going to happen in this scene
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sinzana · 3 years
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Remember when I drew a My Hero drawing and it got like 1900 notes? Bring back the energy I tried really hard on this
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sinzana · 3 years
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this is it. i have achieved peak shit post with this
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sinzana · 3 years
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are you ready for tonight?
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sinzana · 3 years
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Nevermind the anonymous option
Hope I didn't get the wrong OP and I'm not annoying you^^'
OH yes no i remember! it’s from this account but i unfortunately deleted it sorry :(
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sinzana · 3 years
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It was a gojo satoru x reader fic
oooh i can’t remember agajaj i remember a dabi fic i wrote entitled six feet under
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sinzana · 3 years
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Hey I saw that your story "six feel under" reblogged and I tried to read it but it says tumblr has connexion issues etc.
Just wanted to know if it was normal
Take care
is that the dabi fic?
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sinzana · 3 years
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# ‘99 kurapika supremacy
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sinzana · 3 years
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mary oliver // maggie stiefvater // leigh bardugo
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sinzana · 3 years
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mikey in ep 11
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sinzana · 3 years
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Incorrect AOT quotes
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sinzana · 3 years
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sinzana · 3 years
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head absolutely stuffed to the max i am having many thoughts
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sinzana · 3 years
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one more kokonui sad fanart and i swear i will run my way to the docs and make myself some kokonui fic
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sinzana · 3 years
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sinzana · 3 years
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ATARAXY. // MANJIRO SANO
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ataraxy : [adjective] a state of serene calmness.
cw: angst. dacryphillia. overstimulation. depression. takes place during the bonten arc.....yeah.
a/n: i just want him to be happy :( 18+ minors do not interact.
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the moments where mikey finds himself this vulnerable are rare.
despite being charismatic and confident as ever, inside he was a broken man. broken beyond repair, pieces of his soul swallowed in darkness he couldn’t pull himself out of. he seemed the ideal man, always on top of the world with his life made for him, but in reality he was anything but. this life...this curse, it left him shattered, alone, and unhappy.
the nights he found it impossible to shake the dreadful feeling are the nights he knocks on your door. it’s late, past any acceptable time, but you let him in anyway. you’re careful not to disturb your roommate as you lead him to your side of the apartment, tip toeing wordlessly over the wooden floors. he’s always silent, blonde hair pulled up messily atop his head, his dark eyes hollow and void of much. you guide him to your bed, taking care to inspect him for any fresh injuries—they weren’t very frequent or very serious but you doted on him anyway.
your touch was warm, soft, careful and much gentler than life had ever been to him. you looked at him with eyes no one else had in a long time, not filled with hatred or fear but concern and compassion. you spoke to him in dulcet tones with lips that reminded him of flower petals and it made him latch to you like a thorny vine. he was a weed in your garden and he knew it, slowly choking you by nature, waiting for the day you finally gave him your life. but like a flower you stayed anyway, soft and gentle and loving in spite of.
sometimes he felt selfish coming here, using you, but you always insisted it was okay.
your lips pressed comfort into the outline of his jaw, soft thighs and warm hands hugging him, straddled around his waist and wrapped around his shoulders. your scent provided him ease, delicate notes of that lovely shampoo you always used forcing him to relax as your thumbs worked around the tension in his shoulders. by nature he fought against it, rigid and almost dismissive, but soon his cold hands slid up the expanse of your naked thighs, dipping beneath the soft cotton sleepshirt you wore. the silver rings were ice against your warm skin as he splayed his fingers with a sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat. he couldn’t resist you and he knew it, he didn’t know why he tried. he kneaded your ass gently, allowing you to kiss away his worries as best you could.
he always found it remarkable how you tamed him so effortlessly.
you had your life ahead of you. you were full of potential and life, a symbol of hope and promise to mikey. you reminded him of a life he wished for, one where he could be normal instead of like this. stuck in a cycle of death and loss, corruption and abuse that left him so shallow hearted and empty. he looked in your eyes and saw the life he wished he had, and selfishly he clung to you for only a taste.
a taste that came in the form of strawberry lip balm.
his pelvis met yours slowly, gently grinding into you as he fisted the sheets beside your head. his tongue dipped in your mouth and teeth nipped against your lip, panting heavily into one another as your legs wrapped around his waist. the feeling of your heels in his back drove him in deeper, sting behind his eyes forcing him to clamp them shut. his head fell in the crook of your neck, dizzy from the sensation, drunk from your elixir.
he found refuge in you, his home between your thighs much more satisfying than that villa near the beach he spent most his time in. the way you welcomed him greedily and readily no matter how long he took to come back to you was matched by nothing else. no one, nothing could make him feel as loved as you did, even if you weren’t trying. even when all you did was say his name in those syrupy tones you do, babbling mindlessly about how much you loved him and how perfect he was. all you did was make him feel something, and to him that was more than enough. it was enough to bring tears to his eyes as he emptied himself over and over inside you, until you gushed and gushed around him, until it ached him to continue and he still pushed to give you more like you desperately begged for.
mikey just wished one day he’d find the courage to say it without fear of losing you too.
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sinzana · 3 years
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★ 【やまよし】 「 quanxi // chainsaw man 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on twitter
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