starfishstark

[starfishstark]

Same energy

[starfishstark]

Wow these cards are so cute look they're connected to each other! You can see Gojo in Itadori's on the floor below him and... oh? What's that in Gojo's???

I'm gonna start crying.

[starfishstark]

Suguru with a darling that is very forgetful and oblivious to the "dangers" around them. Keys they had them yesterday. They swear how else did they get home? Did they have breakfast this morning? Drink any water? Almost fell down a flight of stairs bc they didn't properly tie a shoe. Go down a dark ally bc they black ally cat looks lonely. So suguru has to step in and take care of them (kidnap)

dfskdfjsdkhjadf

tw: yandere, slight ddlg elements

Okay, but this is just so Suguru. Of course, he obviously had to kidnap you. What other choice did he have? You stress him the heck out. You're the reason why he has to start buying wrinkle cream. Honestly, you're lucky he's attached enough to take care of you, because by yourself? Well, he's not sure you'd still be alive.

You lost your keys again. Didn’t eat breakfast. Forgot to drink water. Almost tripped down an entire flight of stairs because you didn’t tie your shoes properly. And then you thought it was a bright idea to wander into a dark alley because a stray black cat looked “lonely.”

Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep you safe?

So yes. He kidnapped you. He calls it “taking initiative.” And if you dare to throw one of your little tantrums about it? To cross your arms, pout, stomp your cute little foot, and call him a monster?

He’ll just sigh, ignore the bad behaviors, and wrap you in the fluffiest blanket he owns, kiss your forehead, and murmur, “Sweet dreams, princess.” Because monsters don’t tuck their girls in and stroke their hair until they fall asleep. Monsters don’t bottle-feed you water when you’re too stubborn to drink it on your own.

(Yes, he will do that. Sit you on his lap and tilt the bottle to your lips, thumb stroking your throat so you remember to swallow. “Good girl,” he’ll hum when you do. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”)

You're just lucky he’s patient. That he adores you. Every forgetful, chaotic, utterly helpless little piece of you. You make it so easy for him to justify this. So easy to keep you. To love you.

Because someone has to.

And if that someone has to tie your shoes for you, track your water intake, and keep the doors locked so you don’t go off and get yourself killed?

Then so be it. You’re his little girl now.

[starfishstark]

eating wingstop in street racer! sukuna’s car

You’re halfway through your second tender when it hits you — he hasn’t said a word about the crumbs.

The scent of hot honey and voodoo fries fills his GTR, thick and sweet, the kind of smell that would make any car guy lose his mind. But Sukuna just leans back in the driver’s seat like he’s been waiting for this all day.

Maybe he has.

Which is weird, because just last week, you watched him nearly commit a felony when some guy got too close to the rear spoiler. The poor dude barely breathed near it and Sukuna went off — meanwhile, you stood on the sidewalk sipping iced matcha, thoroughly entertained as Sukuna wiped down an invisible fingerprint like it was an insult.

But now he’s focused on the wing in his hand — mostly. His eyes keep flicking to you every few seconds, like he can’t decide what’s messier: the sauce on his fingers or the look on your face while you chew.

“Don’t get sauce on the leather,” he murmurs, almost out of obligation.

There’s no bite to it, though.

You glance at him through your lashes, catching the way his body’s angled toward you. Elbow on the center console. Guarded, maybe — but not from you.

“You let me eat in here,” you tease, waving a greasy fry at him. “This a trap?”

“No.” His voice is quieter now, eyes on the dashboard. “Just… you’re clean.”

You arch a brow. “Wow. Thanks. Romantic.”

He rolls his eyes — a little too hard. “You know what I mean.”

You kind of do.

He’s not cold. Not really. Just hard to read. Always elbows deep in engines, more tuned into the purr of an exhaust than the sound of his own name.

You reach into the paper bag, the grease turning translucent in spots, and offer him your last fry.

He hesitates.

Then he takes it with two fingers, careful not to touch yours, and tosses it into his mouth. He nods, approving.

“I don’t let just anyone in this car, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, lips twitching. “Clearly. I’ve heard the horror stories.”

But here you are — box in your lap, fingers messy, dipping your tenders into the extra ranch he always orders without you having to ask. The car smells like fried food and leather, two things that should never mix, but somehow feel natural when it’s the two of you.

You glance over at him, chewing thoughtfully. “Well then, who would you let eat in here?”

He doesn’t respond right away. Just finishes off his wing, sucks the bone clean like it’s muscle memory, then tosses it into the bag with a lazy flick of his wrist. He wipes his fingers on a napkin already soaked with grease, then tosses that aside too.

When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter. Slower. Measured.

“I don’t let anyone else do a lot of things.”

You pause, fingers frozen over your food. The words hit heavier than they should. He says it like it means something — like it is something. But the moment hangs in the air for just a second too long, so you roll your eyes and reach for another tender.

“Could’ve just said I’m special,” you mutter, half-joking, careful not to drop any crumbs on his pristine interior.

Because even if he won’t say it, you already know. You’ve heard the stories — how Sukuna doesn’t even let people breathe near his car, much less eat in it. Water bottles? Off-limits. Shoes on the seat? Instant death. And yet here you are, mid-bite, elbows up, your takeout box resting comfortably in your lap like you’ve been doing this forever.

And maybe that’s the scariest part.

Because he lets you.

And he never lets anyone.

[starfishstark]

── .✦ 𝕒𝕝𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥, 𝕚 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕤𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕪 . . .

-> i have seen so many images of satoru and suguru together and my heart has soared, cried and i just can’t tbh. just an endless barrage of thoughts…. so i will be taking a few pictures at a time and word vomit my thoughts lest I DIE 💀

first of all, suguru as a teen (pre amanai) was so happy and gleeful. in general, he almost matched satoru’s freak. do you understand how much trauma it needed for him to become who he was? oh my goodness >_< i love that these pictures show that they’re taken from satoru’s camera roll. there are so many suguru pictures he’s taken in so many different angles. same with suguru — we see a lot of satoru solos about him being whimsical and happy throughout…. they almost had their own slice of life sillies before the cursed jujutsu world took their happiness from them :)

i also love the fact that suguru’s happiest smiles are when he’s with satoru. i love the fact that nanami is a fake idgafer. it kinda makes sense to me why kento nanami chose a corporate job 💀 after being a sorcerer (though a corporate job is just as stressful, king). but he was with satosugu the whole time. and after haibara’s death, nanami pretty much was alone. he saw the satosugu breakup </3 he saw his two favorites become strangers </3 all because of the jujutsu society.

they are just silly kids being kids. and i love that suguru and satoru got to have some kind of life before it all catastrophically fell apart. i mean … this is one of the reasons satoru is always like — “you can’t take the youth away from children.” because he knows how it feels. he knows how it feels to often visit cafes and eat, to go and play games, to go for movies, to click random pictures in school of each other. i think part of him embodied the “sunflower” personality to ensure that the grimness of the sorcerer world & the jujutsu society doesn’t get to megumi, nobara and yuuji. :C

also suguru…… my angel …….. you deserve so much better. god damn it my heart aches for him </3 he was just a normal child? he didn’t get raised as a sorcerer. he had loving parents, a simple life. of course when haibara died… when amanai died, this was all something he couldn’t fathom. suguru operates in deep, deep empathy. and when his world came crashing down like that. of course he fell into depression. he loved haibara, he loved his friends, he loved satoru. to see his best friend stabbed and almost killed by toji, to continuously swallow up curses, over & over & over… to watch haibara die… of course he would lose his shit. damn!!!!!!!!! waaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh skdjfhdjdjfhdhfjfjf i NEED NEED NEED to abduct them and keep them as my silly happy meow meows.

also they look so pretty, so beautiful & so gorgeous. my little babies sniffle… i wake up everyday and i see a new picture and then spiral 🌀 into the depressed sugu phase of my own. 😞

[starfishstark]

chatgpt is the coward's way out. if you have a paper due in 40 minutes you should be chugging six energy drinks, blasting frantic circus music so loud you shatter an eardrum, and typing the most dogshit essay mankind has ever seen with your own carpel tunnel laden hands

[starfishstark]

Nanami is a freak in the sheets and it's certainly not your bedsheets.

[starfishstark]

Yandere cult leader! Suguru and his little lamb thoughts... TW: Yandere, Captivity, Threatening behaviors, Power imbalance, mentions of drugging/dubcon, mdni

They say animals take time to adjust. That even lambs - sweet, soft, docile things - start with a kick.

You’re no exception. No matter how lovely you look curled in white linen or how fragile your wrists look bound in silk, you’ve never once truly laid down for him. Not without teeth.

You’re his lamb. But oh, are you still wild.

Suguru, well, he has never quite minded a bit of struggle.

Watching you from the doorway with that slow, unreadable smile, violet eyes glowing faintly beneath the amber light of a dozen candles. He’s still dressed in the robes from his sermons, still heavy with incense, stiffer in some regions from the dried blood. Long, dark hair falls loosely over his shoulders.

You’ve called him a monster before. A murderer. A cultist.

But he’s still beautiful. Absolutely sickening, how beautiful he is. How calm he can be despite the horrors he's committed.

He takes a step into your room, then another. Hands, large, warm, and just barely stained with something darker beneath the trimmed nails, hang loosely at his sides.

“I asked you to stay in bed,” he murmurs, there's an edge of softness. Indulgence. Merely scolding out of disappointment.

You catch the flicker of his gaze, drawn to the silk restraints, now torn and limp, still knotted to the bedpost where you’d chewed and clawed your way free. Threads flutter in the breeze from the window you couldn’t quite pry open.

His eyes linger. Violet, patient, knowing. He says nothing of it. Just hums, the barest curve of amusement twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, little lamb,” he sighs, shaking his head. “You really don’t like making things easy, do you?”

Despite the softness, the warmth, the way his beautiful face tilts with gentle fondness. You know he’s already thinking of how to tie you down next time.

His gaze flicks back to you.

To the way you’re curled up on the cold hardwood floor, knees drawn tightly to your chest, your back pressed against the wall beneath the narrow window. The lock above you is nearly dismantled - bent, chipped, pried apart with desperate, shaking fingers.

You don’t bother hiding it. Don’t flinch, plead, or cower like the others might have. You just look at him, chin tipped high, eyes blazing despite the bruises beneath them.

“Fuck off,” you bite, voice hoarse but sharp. A final claw swipe before the fall. He hums, amused. His footsteps are slow, measured. The floorboard creaks beneath each step.

“You always say that,” he says, kneeling in front of you like a supplicant. A pretty smile graces his face. “But you never quite mean it.”

You spit at his feet. Suguru only tilts his head.

“You’ve gotten brave,” he muses low with amusement, one hand lifting to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as he crouches down before you. You try to jerk away - he follows. His palm cradles your cheek like it’s instinct, as natural as breath. “Is it the moon? Or are you testing me again?”

“I hate you,” you snap. It’s a gasp, really, your voice rough from disuse, your body still weak from avoiding meals. Not since the last time. Not after what he put in the food.

The warmth, the dizzying heat that coiled low in your belly. How Suguru held you close as he rolled his hips into you, catching every one of your gasps and please with his lips.

Just be good for me, sweet girl. I know it's a stretch. You asked for help remember?

The drag of his thumb on your lower lip pulls you from your thoughts. Your glare still settled on his violet eyes that seem to blaze with something close to desire and amusement.

“Oh, I know,” he whispers softly, and there’s something genuinely fond in his tone, like you’ve just told him you missed him. Your hatred is just another little affection he's allowed to keep. His thumb strokes beneath your eye, slow, reverent. It drags through the grit of dried tears. “I love that about you.”

Before you can move - before your teeth can sink in, before your nails can rake down that flawless face - his hands shift. One curls around your waist. The other hooks beneath your thighs. You’re lifted from the floor with concerning ease, like you’re already something meant to be carried.

“Put me down!” you snarl, your voice cracking as you shove at the broad expanse of his chest, but he just sighs - low and patient, somehow you’re the unreasonable one.

“You’re always trying to run,” he murmurs, his tone maddeningly warm as he carries you toward the bed, “but you never really get far, do you?”

His grip is cruelly gentle. Fingers press into your body like he’s handling silk, not flesh. Savoring the feel of you, how your muscles shift with every attack. Memorizing the way you move.

You kick. Hard.

He only laughs, deep and low in his throat. He's beyond frustrating. Acting like every time you throw fire, you're just playing. That every threat of yours is empty. Maybe they are.

“Oh, my little lamb,” he breathes, setting you into the cool white sheets. His movements are unhurried. His body follows, looming over you. A knee sinks between your legs, spreading them just slightly - just enough. One large hand cups your jaw, fingers curling beneath your chin until your gaze is forced up.

Look at him.

His face is radiant. A beauty that doesn’t belong in a world like this, too perfect, in a way that makes your stomach turn. Skin smooth and warm despite the blood staining his hands. That long dark hair falling around his shoulders like velvet night, still faintly damp with oil and incense. And those eyes - violet. Endless. Cruel.

You wonder if they used to be soft. Just how many other bodies have stared into them, right before their bodies were burned or minds were broken into nothing? A curiosity swells within you. What drove someone like him to this?

“Do you know how many like you I’ve buried?” he asks softly, almost like he’s bored. His thumb presses gently to your lower lip, just enough pressure to hush you.

There’s no anger there. Only affection.

The words hang heavy in the air.

“If I wanted another grave,” he says, brushing his lips against yours, “you’d be in it.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your fists tremble, clutching the sheets at either side of you.

You meet his gaze with molten hatred, and he simply smiles. Kisses the edge of your scowl. Soft. Adoring.

“I’ll wait,” he whispers, voice dipping low as he nuzzles into your hair, breathing you in. “Even wolves come home eventually.” Presses a kiss behind your ear. His hand slides up the curve of your throat, firm, not yet choking.

“You’re just a lamb,” he purrs, “pretending to be one.”

-----

This is how I imagine he picks you up btw:

[starfishstark]

Rem and Ryuk seeing Light fumble Misa over and over again: we could treat her right

[starfishstark]

I can't contain this anymore, married emperors satosugu and concubine reader send tweet

[starfishstark]

lowkey part 2 to this because i can't help myself

'hey...nanami...i need to talk to you about something, it's pretty serious' gojo states, walking into nanami's office without knocking. A sullen expression is on his face as he sits on his desk, ignoring the neat files of paper near him. Satoru swallows, his adam's apple bobbing up and down.

'your crush is taken.'

Nanami looks at him with a puzzled expression, implying for him to elaborate.

'i saw her with an engagement ring this morning...i'm sorry man..I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I felt like I should tell you before you fall to your knees and crash and burn and-'

'it's okay.' Nanami interrupts not looking away from his papers.

'really? You're okay with another man just stealing her away?'

'It's not really stealing if she said yes.'

'But the principle! You liked her first!'

'As long as she's happy.'

'Wow.' Gojo's mouth shapes an 'o'. 'You really are the bigger man...I'm really proud Nanami.' he says, delivering a light punch to his shoulder.

then when Gojo goes back to his desk he finds a wedding invite with your name on it and....nanami kento?

you both can hear gojo's scream from each of your offices. Gojo barges in five minutes later, finding you in nanami's office with him, slamming the door open.

'HOW LONG?'

you and nanami struggle to find the words.

'HOW LONG?' Gojo repeats, tufts of white hair falling over his face.

'Three years.' you state.

Gojo falls to the ground on his knees in defeat. 'And...I didn't know about it?...nanami how could you?...we were best friends.'

'hardly' he deadpans.

(gojo ignores him for a solid 3 business days before asking what type of food and cake will be at the wedding)

[starfishstark]

when kastle fics act like he's so much taller than her. they're not that different in height + that is important to me. it's part of the THEMES.

[starfishstark]

imagine coming home with suguru after a late night of dinner and drinks with shoko and satoru.

you're exhausted. your eyes are drooping shut, your legs feel abnormally heavy, you swear your skull is shrinking in size at the pain of your headache, everything hurts and all you want is sleep.

and suguru, ever the gentleman that he is, refuses to let his baby do anything while in this state. (← or in general at that.)

he starts by carrying you from the car to inside the house, cooing as you begin to fall asleep. he steps inside the bathroom with you nestled in his arms and places you on the toilet, meticulously undresses you, ridding your body of any clothes jewelry or accessories.

he sets you in the tub, delicate as ever, making sure all he thinks about is how fragile you are and how much care he must handle you with, and cleanses your entire body for you; whispering soft: “no no, baby. you get your rest, i'll take care of everything.” every time you so much as think to lift a finger.

he would be so tender when drying your body, kissing all along your body as he goes while murmuring quietly into your skin: “you're so beautiful... so perfect.”

he rubs a vanilla scented lotion into your skin afterwards , using that as an excuse to litter your body with even more kisses before picking you up and strolling off to your shared bedroom.

he doesn't get you dressed, something he insisted wasn't necessary: “sleeping naked is much more intimate, my dove.” or something like that. (you were half asleep when he said it) however, he does pick you out an outfit for tomorrow and folds it up neatly on your dresser.

you're laying in bed, quickly losing consciousness as he does that until you're startled by him gently tapping your cheek: “no no, lovely. i still need to brush your hair. sit up for me?”

he doesn't give you time to respond, already slowly hoisting your body upward into a sitting position, cautious not to startle you too much.

he then brushes through your locks, starting from the bottom and making his way to the top, kissing the back of your head then whispering: “doesn't that feel nice?”

afterwards, he lays down in bed with you, pulls you close, and finally grants you your wish of sleep.

[starfishstark]

｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸

Suguru definitely gets the most intense cuteness aggression towards you— that he takes out on you through sex. Kinda jarring when he goes from pinching your cheeks and cooing at you “awe, my cute baby,” to ten minutes later when he’s got you caged within his arms, fucking into you so hard you feel like he’s going to break you in half.

｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸 ｡.ﾟ+:🌸

MDNI, I will block u <3

[starfishstark]

if u squint u can see hearts in my eyes

'phil?' uh, his first name is 'agent'

robert downey jr and gwyneth paltrow in the avengers (2012)

[starfishstark]

I’m not saying I’m built different, but the Alien would save me bc it wanted to ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just sayin (I can’t stop thinking abt this scene from Romulus it’s rotting my brain)

[starfishstark]

If you’re not the biggest fan of your own selfship you’re doing it wrong