this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Megumi, at Gojo's funeral: I need a moment with them. Everyone: Of course. They leave Megumi, leaning over Gojo′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Gojo: Yeah, no shit.

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Can you fucking imagine knowing not only exactly when you'll die, but also knowing you will become GOD after you die, and you are 13 years old

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Wait that’s fucking weird lol

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"Wow, you talk about that character a lot" I want to fuck him.

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Starved || Jujutsu Kaisen ||

Touch starvation that starts slowly and unexpectedly, growing until it gnaws at you. Demanding attention, demanding it be fed. Turning into more until it’s too late to go back, you can’t lock it away this time.

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader

Warnings: Implied sexual relationship, touch starvation

Words: 1K+

|Not My GIF|

The first time you sleep with Satoru is breathtaking, earth shattering even. It awakens something in you that had been dormant for years. And it awakens something else you’d long forgotten about, had given up on completely. Except you didn’t notice it at first, too blissfully caught up in pleasure.

Until he stays over for the first time, too tired to go home after what you’ve done. You don’t mind, you’re tired too and if the situation were reversed, you like to think he’d let you stay. What you didn’t expect was the touching that came after sex.

His arms wrap around you and you’re pulled back into his chest. He's bigger than you, his body easily covering the entirety of yours. You’re tense for a few moments, still beneath the blankets and holding your breath. It’s been forever since you’ve been held let alone cuddled. It’s almost foreign and your body reacts to it, goosebumps lining your skin and feeling like it’s on fire. Stomach twisting and churning that you think you might throw up right then and there. Yet, you don’t know why, well you do but you refuse to acknowledge it.

Still, you don’t push him away. Not even when he kisses your shoulder a few times, different from the way he kissed you before. There’s no lust behind it, only genuine care and it burns your skin more than any mark left behind ever could. You don’t sleep until his soft breathing fills your ears, only relaxing when you know he’s asleep. That night was the best sleep you’ve had in years, you didn’t even notice him slipping away in the morning.

The next time you sleep together, he does leave right after. Something about an early morning meeting he couldn’t miss. You don’t sleep well that night, missing the way his arms wrapped around you more than anything else. it makes you nauseous to be so alone and you’re so aware of it too. You toss and you turn, readjusting your pillow thinking that’s the problem. You even try warm milk or whatever remedy you can find on the internet. But you just can’t fall asleep…

You don’t see him again until a week or two later because of your busy schedules. Or at least that’s what you tell him when he calls you to come over. You figure you should erase the memory of being held before seeing him again. It doesn’t work and every night without him leaves you craving for a repeat of the first night. It’s repulsive and your skin crawls, almost as if you want to burst out of it. You probably should, shed your skin into a new one that didn’t know Satoru’s touch.

You think you should avoid him until you’re able to bury those feelings. But when he shows up one night, they just come spilling out all over again. You sleep together again and it feels so much more different than every other time. You blame it on the lack of contact that has you crazy for each other but instinct tells you it's not. It’s more, so, so much more.

Because suddenly his lips feel different on your skin, leaving an imprint of something else. His hips rolling into yours aren’t just about chasing after mindless pleasure. It almost feels like he does it on purpose too. Like he’s making sure you remember him, that he’s imprinted into your very being. Yet you don’t want to admit what really lies behind it, too scared to do so. Too scared to admit how much you need him, how much you might actually love him. How much he might actually love you.

When you finish basking in the afterglow and he’s getting ready to leave, you stop him. You can’t find the words to ask him to stay but it’s like he knows. He lays back down and scoops you into his arms. You come to notice how warm he really is, seeping into your skin soothingly. Your nerves relax and you’re back to being putty in his arms. You don’t dare admit you feel safe and protected with him.

He starts staying more often and just sex turns into something more. Late night conversations, endless cuddling through the night, once you even took a bath together. You share whispers that hold more meaning than any normal conversation during the day. Walls you’d forgotten about start crumbling down in front of him. And you realize how much you missed just talking to another person. Your heart yearning for a meaningful conversation with someone else.

It’s bordering dangerous territory but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Telling him things you’ve never dared utter to anyone else, and he does the same. Spilling secrets meant only for you to hear, entrusting you so much that you have no choice but to fall for him.

He stops leaving early in the mornings too, staying long enough for you to wake up to him. And he wakes you up ever so lovingly. Kisses adorning your shoulders, coaxing you awake with a soft whisper of ‘good morning.’ He stays after that too, long enough for you to make breakfast for the two of you. It feels so domestic despite just being friends who sleep together.

You seek more of this, starving for companionship that only he could fill. Longing for little touches and small looks of something only the two of you understood.

You think you broke the night he grabbed your face in his hands and cradled your cheeks. Sweet nothings were whispered against your lips and sex turned into love making. Because nothing but love could justify what was happening between the two of you.

You realize you weren’t just physically starved of another person’s touch. Your soul was starved too, an aching hunger that only he could quell.

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Afterlife || Jujutsu Kaisen ||

My own little spin of the afterlife scene with Gojo except with you–me–inserted into it. Also, it's fem implied but I think it can be read as GN too.

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader

Warnings: Chapter 236 Spoilers, fluffish and a little angsty

Words: 1.1K

| Not My GIF |

“Hi stranger, long time no see.”

He’s in hell, he thinks. He must be because only in hell would he be living this nightmare. The one where he meets you over and over again, only to fail in saving you. Still though, it is nice to see your face even in this circumstance. Of course, it’s not something he’ll ever admit out loud.

“Blegh,” he sneers with a face of displeasure. “You’re kidding me, this sucks.”

The smile you greeted him with is instantly wiped from your face, replaced with a frown. An audible scoff leaves your lips and you turn away from him. You face someone else and he sees a familiar bun of black hair, affirming his suspicions of being in hell.

“I told you this would happen,” you say, speaking to Suguru who only smiles in amusement. “This is the last time I listen to you.”

“Pretty rude thing to say after seeing someone’s face,” Suguru chides, looking at his best friend.

Satoru huffs, a nonchalant air following his every movement as he leans back on his seat. His long legs stretch in front of him and he slides down a little. It makes your eye twitch and you almost want to attack. Leave it to him to be so carefree even in the afterlife. You take a seat next to him, well almost next to him with two seats between to keep you separated.

You try not to pay him any attention but your ears twitch the moment he starts speaking again. “I’ve always told my students, when you die you’ll die alone. So please tell me this is just some ridiculous dream.”

“Does it matter?” Suguru rebukes.

He huffs again and mutters something under his breath, something you couldn’t quite catch. Neither did Suguru with the look he threw his way. But the conversation quickly carries on, moving to the next subject.

“So, how was the King of Curses?” he asks.

“Insanely friggin’ strong,” Satoru sighs but you can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “And he was giving me all he had.”

He says something else, speaking more about his fight with Sukuna. Again, you just ignore it and let him talk with Suguru. He refused to acknowledge you and you’d return the favor. Because even in the afterlife you were petty and you had all the time in the world to be. That is, until he finally turns to look at you.

“What’s up with you?” he questions, forgetting how rude he’d been earlier.

You look at him with a scowl on your face, finding him unbelievable. You’re starting to remember how much he actually irritated you when you were alive. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you finally acknowledging me?” you chastise.

“Ah c’mon, gimme a break. I was just surprised,” he says, giving you the same attitude that you do him.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure. Here I am, trying to greet my boyfriend kindly into the afterlife and that’s what I’m met with,” you scoff.

You don’t miss the way he flinches at the word, immediately turning his gaze away from you. There’s a frown on his face and you automatically know what’s going on in that head of his. You move to sit closer to him and reach out to him. You grasp his chin, turning him to face you again.

The scowl on your face is gone, replaced with a kinder look. One that makes his chest ache and stomach churn. Satoru’s so glad he’s wearing his glasses, thick black frames that conceal his eyes. He couldn’t stomach having you look him in the eye directly.

“I see now. Is that what this is about?” you ask, reading him easily.

He wants to pull away from you but your touch is so comforting. Especially after being without it for months since you’ve passed. If this is a dream then he wanted to make it last as long as it could. Just until he’s burned the memory of you into his head again.

When he doesn’t answer, you let out a breath and a soft tsk sound. Of course he was still beating himself up over your death. Even though it wasn’t his fault, you should have known he’d still assume the responsibility.

You let go of his chin, fingers delicately running up his face before your palm settles on his cheek. He leans into it immediately and you can’t help but smile. You’ve missed this just as much as he has. Your thumb runs over the apple of his cheek in an attempt to soothe him.

“You idiot, it’s just like you to take the blame,” you mumble, low enough that only he can hear. He should be offended but the way you call him an idiot sounds so endearing. He’s reminded all over again of what he lost that night, even if you’re here now.

“My death wasn’t your fault. I know what I was getting into,” you tell him.

You finally have the chance to tell him what you wanted to say that night. When you couldn’t utter a word without choking on your own blood. The goodbye you never got to share.

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who had to live with it,” he scoffs though it comes out more like a weak breath.

“No, I know, but you need to hear it. You need to know that I don’t and would never blame you for what happened.”

There’s a slight tremble in his lip before he quickly bites down on it. You don’t need to see his eyes to know they’re probably blurry and beady. And you wipe away the singular tear that rolls down before anyone else could notice. He hated crying and he hated doing it in front of others even more.

“But I should have protected you,” he whispers, defeat laced heavily in his voice. “That was my job, you should be alive right now.”

“Hey, none of that now. I’m okay… kinda but small details, who really cares,” you joke, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly.

He huffs again, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips that brings one of your own. You liked it more when he was smiling; genuine smiles, not the fake cheeriness he put on for everyone. When it was genuine, you knew he felt comfortable enough to relax. He deserved peace.

“And you say I’m the idiot,” he mumbles, making you roll your eyes at him.

“I can and will make your afterlife a living hell,” you scowl at him again but it only makes him smile more.

An eternity with you didn’t sound so bad, he could make up for lost time. Yet something told him it wasn’t time yet, eternity would have to wait. You could feel it too, something about the situation telling you it wasn’t going to last. He had to go back, somehow, because his job wasn’t done. Still, he’d enjoyed the time he had now with you… and everyone else.

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

sitting on and touching warm rocks…………. now thats the good stuff…….

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i’m away with the fairies and i won’t be returning

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*unbuttons the top 2 buttons of my shirt so I can be slutty in a masc way*

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that's about $32 he did the call for, only takes a tiny push sometimes doesn't it

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I haven't seen dancing pumpkin guy ONCE this year, are you guys okay?

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hey sorry your boyfriend died and he came back hornier. yeah he’s more or less the same but all he can think about is going down on you. sorry i know you just wanted the gentleman back but he’s more of a demon now. yeah sorry

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

mom i can’t go to school today it’s a national holiday

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alfred gave them the sheets