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killsaki · 9 days
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i think we should all watch haikyuu again
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killsaki · 9 days
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mini bf <3
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killsaki · 9 days
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so you’re going to tell me that kazutora isn’t the most insane, suffocating, controlling boyfriend?? sure wtv
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killsaki · 10 days
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miscommunication ☆ romance isn’t on hanma’s list of specialties, but at least you can put making you cum on it.
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hanma shuji x female!reader
4.4k words | minors dni
cw / tw : alcohol and weed mentions, his friends don’t respect you, biting, marking, vaginal fingering, nipple sucking, messy plot.
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“you miss me, baby?” you can hear people speaking in the background as hanma talks into his phone as if he’s alone.
“no, shu’, i don’t.” you huff, picking lint from the couch cushions. you don’t understand how he’s so shameless, you’ve never been able to wrap your head around it no matter how long you’ve been around him.
“aw, but you’re still callin’ me that cute name.” your palm comes to land on your forehead as you mentally scold yourself from the force of habit. 
“i didn't—”
“didn’t mean to? hm, ‘course not.” he speaks to you so sweetly but you know it’s condescending like you’re too dumb to know what you’re saying. “anyways, figured i’d be so kind to tell you that i’ll be by your place later tonight.”
you scoff, you can practically hear the big smile on his face as he taunts you. there are some calls of his name in the background and you’re tempted to just hang up in his face and go back to the show you’d been watching, but before you take the phone from your ear you hear your name from a voice that is not hanma’s.
“is that her?” one that you can recognize as rindou asks smoothly.
sanzu, you realize that’s who said your name before. you hear as he answers the question intended for hanma, making sure to repeat your name this time with ‘my’ in front of it as if you were his possession.
hanma lets out his signature laugh, one that always freaks you out a little. “you sanzu’s girl, baby?”
“shu’, stop.” you breathe into the phone, your tv screen dims in your peripheral.
“aw, shu.” ran mocks and you purse your lips, not thinking about how hanma would, of course, put you on speakerphone after asking such a question.
“i’m hanging up,” you speak in your usual tone and you can hear laughs all around.
“wait,” hanma joins in with his friends, “you gonna leave the door open for me?”
you sigh, considering it. you’d stopped hanging out with hanma on purpose, stopped answering your phone and the door for him. he was a wild card, though you knew that from the moment you met him something told you to give it a chance. it wasn’t until after he’d started getting into blood-filled fights right in front of you and showing up to your place unannounced one too many times that you’d decided enough was enough. to top it all off, he’d refuse to acknowledge any conversation that included him giving the two of you a title.
you hadn’t slept with him, despite how much he’s tried— well, you’ve slept with him. on his chest, him on yours, but you haven’t fucked him. so that saved a bit of your pride, but not enough for you to dive back head first in with someone who won’t even call you his girlfriend before trying to strip you down.
“you always wake my neighbors with your bike,” you mutter, hoping you aren’t still on speaker.
“then come to mine,” he replies immediately after, and your head cocks in confusion. in the amount of time you’ve been involved with each other, that is the one place you haven’t been with him. restaurants, fairs— hell even gang meetings. but not his place.never his place.
“i dunno,” you fake a yawn and he sucks his teeth. “i’m pretty tired.”
“head over right now and you can sleep in my bed, pretty.” he sounds far from the phone and your device buzzes not a second later. “should take ten to get here, see you in five.”
he sings that last word before ending the call. there’s a thought pulling at you not to go, to text him to ‘fuck off xx’ but a glance at your open bedroom door makes you decide you really would rather not sleep alone.
it takes you twenty minutes to pack a bag and get into your car, another fifteen to pull into the driveway of the house and for a moment you think he’d sent you to the wrong place. only when the scattered motorcycles come into sight do you know that wasn’t the case.
outgoing: come out here.
shu !: princess cant walk by herself?
outgoing: i’ll leave
shu !: don’t you dare
you lock your phone, waiting in the locked car for his figure to appear through the front door but to your surprise, it comes from the side of the house. the house had surely been remodeled and split in two at the second story because the staircase leading to the door hanma exits looks far from sturdy. even in the dark, you can see the happy bounce in his walk to your door.
“hey, pretty.” your hand comes to where he’s leaning down to the window to block lavender eyes from seeing the stupid smile that creeps up on your face from his presence. maybe you did miss him, but you weren’t going to admit that now.
“you didn’t say anything about your friends being here.” you fake annoyance as you gather your things and shut off the car, making sure to lock it before exiting.
“you heard them on the phone.” hanma shrugs, arms immediately snaking around the small of your back as he traps you against the warm metal.
“doesn’t mean i thought they’d still be here.” you can’t help but laugh when he starts to nose at your neck, placing kisses here and there.
“that why you took so long?” he pulls away from your throat, smiling into your lips as he kisses them, acting as if the two of you haven’t gone an entire month without speaking. “sanzu’s feelings ‘ll be hurt if he hears that.”
you drag out a sigh before he finally leads you up to his door, and it’s exactly what you expected from hanma shuji. a few small decorations are lining the walls, big tv, and a decent-sized couch placed in the living room. surrounding it, a singular circular fold-out chair and an oversized bean bag that look fairly new. and of course, with those, bodies of some of the most dangerous guys your age in the area scattered about.
“he let you carry your bag?” sanzu looks at you bewildered, game controller in hand. “i would never make you do that.”
“don’t pause the game!” a blonde with a lion tattoo grunts at the long-haired one, you note the matching console control in his grip.
“oh really?” your head snaps up to shuji who side-eyes you with a laugh.
“she was hoping you’d be gone when she got here.” hanma says with amusement clear in his tone, taking your bag from your hand and heading to the closed door you can only assume is his bedroom.
“ignore those two, i know you came to see me.” ran sets the beer bottle down, and extends that same hand towards you, one that you only stare at as you bite your lip. “don’t be shy.” he tacks on teasingly.
you don’t have a chance to say anything before hanma is back with his arms wrapped around your waist. ran rolls his eyes back to the screen, sanzu’s following as he resumes the game. but even with hanma’s presence, the flirting—more so, teasing—doesn’t stop, not for a while at least. ran had gotten rindou to join in from where he sat below you all for a bit and then they’d talked about you as if you weren’t even in the room. you’d started to tune it out after so long. all of your interjections to their weird comments got shot down by remarks about you being ‘shy.’
the need for sleep took over at some point and your annoyance and embarrassment diminished along with the conversation. the game suddenly became most important once again when shion and rindou had gotten tied up in their amounts of wins. or at least that's what you think you hear, it’s hard to make out anything when you’re focusing so hard on forcing your eyes to stay open.
you let your head fall onto hanma’s shoulder and not a split second passes before he wraps you up in his arms, pulling you to straddle him and rest your head against his chest.
“like a lap dog.” shion speaks to rindou directly but no one says anything else. hanma hums, and you can feel it against your fingertips when he does. his warmth makes you relax further into him, hands sliding to loop behind his neck.
“tired, shu’.” you yawn, and it’s real this time. the large hand smoothing along your back only spurring you further to the brink of unconsciousness.
“alright,” he sighs happily, the same tone you’ve often heard him use when he’s won at something. “everyone get the fuck out.”
“we’re in the middle of a game.” shion objects as he shifts his weight on the beanbag chair.
“baby wants to sleep, get the fuck out.”
“aw, c’mon,” you can hear ran’s voice grow closer as he leans towards you, “you don’t want us to leave yet, do you?” you open your eyes just in time to catch the sight of him reaching out to touch you. almost on instinct, you flinch away, burying yourself further into hanma’s hold.
ran’s expression doesn’t change much as he pulls back, but his eyes shift slightly— it makes an odd feeling start to stir in your gut. but it quickly vanishes as they all start to stand and call out their goodbyes— though they’re mainly to hanma, you’re talked about like a pet that they ask him to ‘be nice’ to. except for sanzu telling you that he’s always available to you, and ran letting you know how much bigger and how much happier you’d be in his bed, should you ever want to try it.
you ignore the implications, ignore the way they eye you as you stand to stretch. but you can’t possibly ignore the way hanma latches onto you, draping himself over you to cover you in kisses. ones you giggle at, but maybe miss the reason behind.
“why do they talk about me like that?” you ask when hanma locks the door behind his friends.
“hm?” he hums, approaching you with a smile.
“i’m not your dog.” you curl your lip at the thought of being seen as his little pet.
“you’re my girl,” he wraps himself around you yet again, guiding you into his room. “ain’t it the same thing?”
“not at all.” you scoff, trying to free yourself from him as he makes you stumble from the difference between his large steps and your own shorter ones. “that’s why none of you have girlfriends.”
“nah, some of them do.” you suddenly feel your heart drop, just a bit. you can’t decipher if it’s the fact that guys like hanma are capable of calling someone their girlfriend or the fact that those girls don’t know that their boyfriends sat in someone's living room for the past who knows how long and talked so… highly about you. “they just think you’re still free game because we haven’t fucked.”
“but they have girlfriends,” you repeat to him, freezing in his arms, making him lean down beside you to catch a look at your annoyed, confused expression.
“yeah,” he smiles as he informs you, “they have a few.” 
“disgusting.”
hanma shrugs, unraveling his hold and softly pushing you toward the bed.
“annoying.” he says as he reaches over his head to grab the back of his shirt, pulling it off. “i dunno how they keep up with ‘em.”
that feeling starts to swirl in your chest again, and you’re sure you’re closer to figuring out what’s causing it. “it’s easier if you just don’t call any of them your girlfriend, huh?”
“nah,” he plops down on the bed, looking to where you still stand, arms crossed and fingers digging into your skin. “still too much room for bitchin’.” 
“so then, what?” you snap unintentionally, you can blame it on your tired state if he asks.
“why’re you so fired up?” he leans off the bed, grabbing you and forcing you to stumble towards him. “you’re my girl, aren’t you?”
your eyebrows furrow more at his question, making it almost painful. “what are you talking about?”
“we’ve been talking for months, i’ve paid for shit for you, slept in your bed without fucking you,” his hands are never still, falling to the back of your thighs and wandering around all they can reach. “isn’t that what a boyfriend does?”
“shuji, what?” your mouth drops open, and you’re unsure what to feel. what has he thought this entire time? “we haven’t talked in a month, you wouldn’t even talk to me when i brought this up before.”
“‘cause i thought we understood each other.” he pressed his face against your folded arms until you dropped them so he could rest his chin against your stomach. “you are a lil’ slow though, huh?”
“excuse me?” your eyes widen down at him and you don’t know what you’re supposed to feel. “slow? because you wouldn’t— because you refused to—”
“shh,” he shushes you, pulling you down into the bed before you can fight him. “too much, it's getting hard for you to get your words out.”
“oh my god, you suck.” you squirm when he locks himself around you for the umpteenth time that night, but he doesn’t let up. nor does he reply, he only tucks you into his bare chest, humming once finally comfortable. but your mind doesn’t stop going, doesn’t stop asking questions you just are dying to get the answer to— you wish you’d never asked at all, sleepiness having escaped you,
“so they think because i haven’t fucked you that i would fuck them?”
“yeah,” he laughs back.
“that’s stupid.” you wonder what could��ve given them that impression— or it was just wishful thinking. “wait, wait back to me being—”
“‘cause you’re hooked on me without my dick, right?” he interrupts, pushing your shoulder back so you’re looking at him and his stupid, pretty smirk.
“my god, shu’.” you groan, and fall back into the pillow, away from him. which, you quickly realize was a trap— something you should be more wary of when it comes to him— as he climbs on top of you, encasing you between his limbs.
“yeah, am i?” he licks his lips, looking down at you with a wicked gleam in his lavender eyes, something far from holy. you can’t deny the way it makes your heart skip a beat, how his bare skin feels pressed to yours in the places your shirt lifts, and the smell of weed and cigarettes mixed with something sweet wafts over you.
“i,” you put your hands to his chest, maybe to push him off, but they lose strength when they come into contact with him. “came over here to sleep.”
“we can.” he tries to shrug, but it looks silly given his position. “after.” he glances to your lips, leaning down only to ghost them with his own before he moves to press a kiss just under your ear. his body weight presses into you just a bit more, his legs slipping between yours and you feel yourself melt into the mattress. “or,” he pulls from where he’d almost started to leave marks on your neck to make eye contact as he rests his hips against your own, clothed cock heavy and warm against your cunt, making his next words feel like more of a taunt. “we don’t have to.”
you swallow, face warm as you open your mouth a few times, not sure what to say, not sure what you want. “maybe… just a little,” you nod.
he leans back down, speaking low against your lips and making your chest vibrate from his pressed against it. “whatever you’ll give me, pretty girl.” 
his mouth meshes with yours, slow wet drags of lips make you into a puddle in his sheets. all you can do is reach out for him, wrap around him, try to pull him impossibly closer. your hands go from tangling and tugging at his hair when he grinds down into you, to scratching between his shoulders when his lips leave yours to travel down your neck.
you can stomach the want, handle the heat flowing through your veins that begs for more. even when your clothes start to diminish in number and you’re left in nothing more than your panties under him. you can manage the twitch in your fingers that ache to touch parts of him that are still out of sight, that is until his mouth starts to suck marks into the soft skin of your breast. the hand reading sin, cupping your other before fingertips find their way to your nipple.
you gasp at the contact, and his eyes dart from where they’d been so peacefully closed up to watch your expression. he rolls the bud and the callousness of his hands does little to help you fight against the sounds you wish would stay caught in your throat. hanma is an opportunist if anything, and before you can even move to cover your face, his lips latch around your other nipple. you can’t think to fight the whine that escapes you, not when his weight lifts off of you so  that his free hand can glide fingertips along your embarrassingly wet, still clothed slit. 
your body moves on its own, a hand tangling in his hair and your hips bucking against him.
“there she is,” he speaks softly against your sensitive skin and your eyes flutter at his tone. it’s like cool silk in the way it makes you shiver. his fingers press harder against the fabric, teasing you with the resistance it gives, allowing him to press just enough against your entrance that you can feel the push but nothing more.
and suddenly you can’t handle it any longer. your want has bubbled into need and you’re far too warm for your skin, desperation for him to give you anything claws at you.
“more,” you pant out.
there’s a popping sound when he unlatches from your skin, and you don’t need to look down at him to know there’s a smirk on his face when he asks, “more?” but you do anyways, and you wish you didn’t. he’s already looking back at you, pretty purple eyes low with lust, his tongue prodding from between his lips as it runs slow, wet circles around your nipple making you that much weaker beneath him.
more of your soft pants fill the air before you’re able to tear yourself away from the sight, whimpering a small, “please, shu’.” before throwing an arm over your eyes.
his weight shifts on the mattress, and he’s pushing the seat of your panties out of the way to separate your folds with rough fingertips. “anythin’ for my girl.” 
you feel your breathing pick up and hear how it comes out in fast little huffs, but you can’t think of anything but how perfectly he moves against you, how it feels like the devil dancing the way that he circles your clit. pulling back the hood of it to get to the part that has you nearly in tears when he starts to tease it.
there are kisses pressed to your arm that cover your face, making you move it in search to feel those lips against your own instead. you look up to hanma who’s already looking back at you who's wearing an expression you’ve never seen from him before. his jaw slack, causing his lips to part, his tongue gliding along them as his nearly glowing, low-lidded gaze makes your heart race.
he watches you so intently as his fingers find their way back down your entrance, eyes locking on the way your lips fall open to gasp when he pushes one of his fingers in tantalizingly slow. you know he’s doing it on purpose, but you can’t tell if it’s for you or him the way his chest starts to heave from watching your expressions alone. how your eyes flutter when his knuckles press against you, the way your lips twitch with the sounds that fall from him curling his finger and pressing it against your softest wall, pressing far deeper than you’d ever felt your fingers reach. there’s nothing but the faintest buzz of this season’s bugs chirping outside, the sound of your shared sounds, and the way your slick clicks against his hand each time he pulls away only to push his digit back in to force another pretty moan out of your throat.
“more, pretty?” his voice barely audible.
“more, please.”
with the next pullback of his wrist, he adds another of his long, slender fingers into you. he pushes back to his knuckle this time, he presses his lips back to yours in time to catch the surprised sounds that lip out at his new, sudden pace. it’s faster but just as deep as his previous slow, teasing one. it has what would be embarrassing high pitch ‘ah, ah, ah’s falling off your tongue right onto his, but each push against your swollen spot has everything that isn’t the feeling that he’s giving you out of your mind.
his lips mold against yours, even when you can barely keep conscious enough to control them, trying to kiss him back, to feel yours drag against his and feel the way his infamous smirk starts to creep back onto his face when your nonsensical whines turn into those of his name. his move down to your ear, but he doesn’t speak yet, instead just using the position to listen as closely as he can to the highs of your breathy whimpers each time he fucks his fingers back into you.
“feel so good, baby.” his words are hot against your skin, “can’t wait to fuck this perfect pussy.” you clamp around him at the thought, of how easily you’ve melted for him from the way he worked you up alone, you can’t imagine watching the way he’d look sinking into you. “yeah?” he sounds huskier at the way your body agrees with his words. his lips drag along the column of your neck as he speaks between marks he leaves there. “you ‘gonna let me? ‘wanna take my cock, baby?” you feel yourself nod that time, hips starting to move against his hand at the same time, starting to search for the inches that you miss each time they pull out of you, even with the promise of them sinking back in is only second away. “you want it?”
“want it,” you manage to form, and you feel hanma’s teeth sink into where he’d just left a bruise. it sends the knot in your gut pulling tight, your legs starting to twitch against his sides— the curse of his name that leaves your mouth broken has him pressing his fingers as far into your cunt as they can reach, middle and ring fingers curling in and out of you with a need to hear the way you’re soaking down his wrist, to force your walls to spams around him, and make you cling to him even tighter than before, scrambling to grab every part of him that you can reach. tears are pricking at your eyes as you feel your stomach flex, face twisting up in a pleasure that hanma just has to pull away from you to take in clearly.
“c’mon,” he licks his lips as watches you start to unravel beneath him, his thumb rubbing sloppy shapes into your pulsing clit. “make a pretty little mess for me.” 
“shu’–fuck,” you drag out in a high cry, tears burning hot down your cheeks as you feel the white-hot static spread from your tightened core through your limbs, shooting down to the tips of your fingers.
he drags out his curse, pressing his hips into yours, just far enough away from your cunt he’s still able to finger you through your high. as you start to catch your breath, regain control of your body aside from the search for pleasure that overtook you before, you find yourself sticky from the middle of your thighs to their apex and the warmth that loomed over you starting to disappear.
“no,” you use your leg which still feels far too heavy to wrap around hanma, keeping him from where he was attempting to get off the bed.
hanma huffs a laugh down at you, “i’m comin’ back,” his long fingers wrap around the soft of your thigh, squeezing it slightly as he moves it. “‘gotta change since i fuckin’ creamed my pants.” 
you laugh softly, eyes drifting closed. you want nothing more than to poke fun at him, but you’ve also never felt this kind of tired before. you’re seconds away from drifting off when he wakes you with a warm rag to your skin.
“you got me acting like i’m a fuckin’ virgin,” he laughs, likely at himself again. 
“you mean you’re not one?” your words come out weak, and you can barely make out the shape of him in the now dim room as you speak.
“nah,” he wipes the last bit of the mess he made of you off your skin, humming in that same happy tone you hear nonstop from him. “i treat my girl so nice don’t i?”
you shrug weakly, “if thinking that will help you sleep tonight.”
“ahh,“ he tosses the wet, filthy rag off to what you hope isn’t just the top of his clothes basket. “you being next to me will help more than that,” your lips twitch up at his words as his weight drops down beside you, long arms maneuvering you around until he’s satisfied with how your bare chest presses up against him. “but busting that nut’ll help a lot too.”
“i can’t stand you.”
“mm,” he kisses your forehead, “but you came so ha—”
“shhhh,” you pat against his skin with your palm, like you’re trying to lull a child to sleep. “stop talking, ‘m tired.” you rub your head on where he’s laid you on one of his arms as if it’ll change anything at all about your comfort. “‘night, shu’.”
you faintly feel lips meet your forehead for a sweet, short kiss as you drift off. but you know you hear when he whispers back, “‘night, pretty baby.”
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killsaki · 10 days
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you're someone's hated tumblr
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killsaki · 10 days
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hanma sits all your stuffed toys on your bed up when they fall over vs sanzu who punches them bc he’s jealous
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killsaki · 10 days
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mitsuya, hanma, angry, bkg, keigo, denki, itadori and gojo are too.
shinichiro is such a matching hello kitty pj bottoms bf
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killsaki · 11 days
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fucking kisaki with hello kitty playing in the bg ..
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killsaki · 11 days
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i look and feel so pretty, kisaki is somewhere fuming that he can’t have me latched onto his arm so nobody else looks at me. <3
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killsaki · 11 days
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shinichiro is such a matching hello kitty pj bottoms bf
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killsaki · 11 days
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the love hate relationship i have with uzui is completely against my will
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killsaki · 11 days
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my bf does not believe i’m obsessed with kisaki but i made one remark about sukuna and now that’s my whole personality
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killsaki · 11 days
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“proshippers dni” proshipper: interacts. (no hate to them, it just made me giggle lol)
SO SILLY!!!
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killsaki · 11 days
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How you gonna write aged up characters, incest, and noncon yet are against proshippers interacting? Like… all of those topics are proship. I’m a proshipper myself and I’m just so confused??
bro im gonna be so honest i do not care like i wrote those rules years ago and have copy and pasted them to every blog since. its mainly just if you ship pedophilia or grooming that i don’t want you interacting tbh. ships are free reign and we’ll probably never speak so i fr do not care
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killsaki · 11 days
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me @ my mutuals
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killsaki · 11 days
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hanma in the park after dark with a suit and briefcase??😭😭 so funny
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killsaki · 11 days
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i need to know what the ending for tokrev was going to be. not what the magazine pressured it to be.
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