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#// 18+ only please
zadr-day · 4 months
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Are you somewhat active or very active on Discord? Do you have an itch to discuss a 20+ year old cartoon pairing with other likeminded weirdos? I HAVE THE VERY PLACE FOR YOU. We are a loose conglomeration of artists, writers and fans of the ZaDr pairing. Share your projects, discus elements of canon and comics, join us for games and movies! (most saturdays are games nights) I describe the place often as a chill clubhouse people can flow into and out of as they so please. AND WE ARE LOOKING FOR FRESH BLOOD. CLICK THIS LINK AND JOIN US
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lillylvjy · 8 months
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please please please
llg smut
please even just a drabble
I need a cocky ghost boy to watch as I sit in my room frustrated cus I can't get off. need to feel his eyes on me without knowing he's there and then have him appear and claim me pls and ty
or whispering dirty things to tease me cus I can't see him
-husband <3
………. I’m on it- (minors fuck off)
He kept playing with you. Kept moving behind you, making a cold chill fill in the room as you turned all around to find the source. You knew it was him but you hated how you couldn’t see him.
“Don’t look so helpless darling. I know you like this. Like being watched and teased with.” You felt a breathe fan over your neck as a dark, gravely voice whispered in your ear.
“N-no. I don’t. Your wrong.” You said, cursing yourself for stuttering.
“Oh? Than why do you like it all the time when your crying out for me to help you get off?” He says as he slowly runs his fingers up your thighs and waist.
“T-this is different. I can’t see you.”
“Darling you can never see me in the dark of night when your grinding and gripping my hair as tightly as you can. So no this isn’t different. This is almost exactly the same. I can practically smell how needy you are.” Wil grips your hips as he pulls you against his body. “Now. We can either do this the hard way, or my way. And I know you love my way, so what’s it gonna be? Gonna be a difficult slut and make me hold you down or are you gonna let me take it easy tonight? Your choice.”
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kujojotarolover · 2 years
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Also o for Rohan please
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cw: Yandere Themes, Allusions to Stalking, Mentions of Stalking, Obsessive Thoughts / Nature, Angst, Dire Situations, Torture, Graphic Descriptions / Thoughts, Brainwashing and / or Memory Wiping Allusion, Thoughts / Mentions of Death, General Dark Themes not Suitable for Immature Audiences. Reader-Insert, Gender Neutral. Uncomfortable scenarios included, read at you own discretion! 18+ ONLY!
author's note: Totally not inspired by House of Wax or anything, nah. This is my first ficlet involving Kishibe Rohan, I hope that you enjoy this delusion man and this creepy fic! These "Yandere Prompts Flower Language" were written and coined by @/nanasparadise . That original post can be located here. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is not a good situation! I hope you enjoy this!
PROMPT: Orchid (love, beauty): "My, you're breathtaking. Your beauty needs to be cherished."
word count: Approximately 1.8k
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Swish. 
Swish, swish. Swish. 
Swiiiiiiish. 
Everything dimmed and blurred in a flurry haze. Bright light like you’ve never known before shone and rushed like a hurricane, circling and widening and engulfing. You quickly tried to shut your eyes from the blinding hues, but something pulled uncomfortably against your face. Your mind scrambled. 
Why couldn’t you blink? 
Your pupils whizzed in frantic dashes, desperately trying to escape the maddening light that started to dull more and more and more and… wait. Hey, yeah. This… you’re standing in a room. It’s not a room you’ve ever seen before and that worries you, but you can finally pick up the faintest edges and outlines of details now. You want to squint, but the pressure from earlier comes back fast so you just settle for letting your eyes slowly adjust. 
Swish, swish, swishswishswish. 
There it is again. That noise: the sound that had brought you forth into this waking world. Your brain can’t quite comprehend what it's hearing, but it distinctly reminds you of the strokes of a paintbrush. Which, funnily enough, only brings more questions than answers. So, you turn your head. 
You… turn your head. 
Panic emerges from your chest in a rupture as you start straining your muscles. Why can’t you move your head? It feels like it’s pinned in place, pinioned by that weight from earlier that kept you from closing your eyes and that petrifies you. This doesn’t make any sense, none of it does. Your head is whorling in nasty waves and you start to struggle. 
A rattling, like cracked porcelain. Muffled panting, the sound of terror huffing against something solid. You breathe. You try to breathe in but your lungs refuse to expand very far—held down, immobile. You think you’re hyperventilating now, shaking in place like a ball filled with too much kinetic energy and you feel like you’re going to explode with madness. 
Then, a voice. 
“Oh, you're waking up now, are you?” A deep siiiiigh. “Well, I suppose I did only write ‘until Kishibe Rohan finishes painting the initial coat’, didn’t I?” 
A lackadaisical, nasally voice rhetorically questions himself before the swish swish swish begins once more. You don’t recognize the voice. Or, no, you do. The tone and intonation tickle the furthest reaches of your mind and you wrack your brain to call it forth. The name, think of the name. Kishibe Rohan. Why does that sound familiar? You feel something twinge. Yes, you do know him. 
“That doesn’t matter now, of course,” Rohan comments, “just stop panicking. The clay may be dry, but you’ll be irreparable if you accidentally tear any of it off at this stage.” 
What… What in the hell did he just say? 
“It will also bring you unbelievable amounts of pain,” Rohan pauses. Something clacks against wood. He had set his brush down. “But to see you in such agony and in such disarray would cause me more misery than you’d ever imagine.” 
Rohan picks up something—another paintbrush, probably—and leans in close. 
Your dry eyes have finally cleared and the image before you is flawless. 
The room looks unique, for sure, with a triangular bookshelf pressed against the side wall and the artisan desk not too far ahead. There’s also various prints framed and hung around the extra space of the room. The floors are hardwood, the walls are flamingo pink, the room’s trimmings are mauve, and the blinds are a rich royal blue. Everything is dimmer than you’d originally expected, but you notice a singular curtain is drawn up to allow beaming sunlight to gleam across your face. Nothing looks familiar, you’ve never been here before; so, the only logical conclusion is that this is Kishibe Rohan’s office. 
Another hopeful scan of the room births nothing of use to you. There’s a flame that withers inside, you can feel a flicker of hope diminish in your chest. What will help you escape? Another fretful glance. What can get clay off of your body? 
But your eyes can’t take in the details quick enough before a dark shadow looms before your eyes and you’re forced to focus on that instead. 
Kishibe Rohan.
He looks as eccentric and as fashionable as he did the very first time you laid your eyes upon him. That lusciously vivid sacramento green hair of his swoops over his forehead and stays tucked away by the lime eggshell headband he dons. Intense emerald orbs pierce through you, awash with such emotions that you feel a queer turn in your stomach that make your body involuntarily hitch. Rohan’s expression is tense, but focused. He calmly watches your eyes meet his and the corner of his lips quirk upward. 
“Good, my little muse,” Rohan’s eyes close briefly as he sighs again and starts to titter. “Though the clay is much too solid for much to shift it out of place, I’m sure the heat of it and the nature of the substance has caused it to permanently iron itself to your flesh.” 
Your heart thunders against your ribcage. 
“Moving it or grinding against it could possibly disrupt it and, well, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what will happen after that,” Rohan’s sudden humor is once again lost as he lifts his arm back up and brings the paintbrush towards your face. 
But you can’t even care about that! What the hell else were you supposed to think about? You’re permanently trapped in this clay prison and moving will flay you alive! And you want to freak out even more. Want to flail, kick, scream, throw a damn tantrum to break free—but it’s futile. It’s so absolutely futile and that’s why you feel like your world is suddenly swinging around you like a merry-go-round. Streaking, and slurring, and swimming, and you pant. you pant. you pant. 
You feel painful tears sting against the rims of your eyes. The sclera are so desiccated, so aired out from being held open for this long that tears feel like stabbing needles prickling the very organs. Your head reels noisily. 
The paintbrush dabs against the clay of your cheekbone as Rohan finetunes the precise details. You can’t focus. You feel so absolutely lost, you’re so helpless, fuck fuck fuck—is this how you’re going to die? Standing, posed, in this crazy man’s home covered in model clay as you slowly starve and dehydrate to the point of no return? Tortured by a man that you met by chance… once? 
That’s when you really became flighty. Your head thumped loudly, right behind your sinuses, and you felt so so full. You’d only met this stranger once! All because of a mishap at a local art store. Fuck, you can’t even clearly remember the memory—that’s how long ago this happened! You think you ended up helping him out, there was a miscommunication. You can’t recall. You’re teetering on the edge of passing out and going numb from how heavily you’re breathing against warm, damp clay. Your appendages are tingling and you feel like you’re floating on clouds. Why is he doing this? What did you do to deserve this? 
Rohan’s paintbrush feathers over the bridge of your nose and he releases a pleased hum. 
“Absolutely stunning,” Rohan’s free hand comes up to cradle your jaw, but he stops and jerks back. “Not quite yet. I would hate to tarnish my hard work, especially after all of the trouble I went through to get you here.” 
The memories before this very moment feel fuzzy. They’re like minnows, swaying along with the currents of a stream and constantly going. On and on and on and on and on. You see them fade and disappear, they wink out and more minnow follow their ilk. You cast your line out in distress, the hook glimmery in the light of your conscience, and watch it dip into the water. It gets sucked along and the line screeches as it’s pulled into nothingness. 
“Buuut this was very much worth it,” Rohan states. “I’ve been following you for so long, watching you and studying you to make sure you’re really what I believed you to be the first time I happened upon you.” 
Oh, Gods, you just want to sob. You want to start weeping and curl up into a tiny ball, but you’re frozen solid and you’re forced to listen to Rohan’s words. You’re forced to listen to the ramblings of a man long gone. 
“You’re so pure, so unlike other people, so kind,” Rohan seems to shudder and you want to just collapse under his loving stare. “When you first gazed at me with those beautiful eyes, I fell deeply in love with you. It felt like my heart was going to burst when you departed from me, but… don’t worry, I made sure to keep you within my sights.” 
Swish, swish, swiiish. 
“I followed you, every day, every waking moment that I possibly could,” Rohan admits. He then withdraws the paintbrush, dips the end into a swatch of color, and continues detailing. “You were filled with this admirable justice, this sense of innocence and purity. Of truth, of precision. Your honesty, your soul… everything about you was like a flame and I was consumed like oxygen into the laps.” 
Everything and nothing makes sense. You would shake your head, would avert your face away from Rohan’s lecherous eyes, and try to plug your ears to mute this insanity. But you can just be his little statue. Listening. 
“And after a while… watching you from afar started to bore me, honestly.” Rohan huffs, as if he were absolutely bothered by the notion and then turns his stare over his shoulder. “So I waited and waited and waited. There was much to think about, you know. As an artist, I had to make sure this wasn’t sloppy. I had to be positive that you were the one, that nothing would tarnish you. I… I needed to immortalize you.” 
Your eyes gape in horror at Rohan as he drags another long sweep of the paintbrush across your cheeks before arching back. 
Rohan scrutinizes your face thoughtfully, romantically, and an excitedly giddy grin smears across his lips. 
“My, you’re breathtaking.” Rohan shivers, his eyes widening with something wild as he drops his brush to the palette and laces his fingers together. “Your beauty needs to be cherished.”
It feels like the floor is opening up, is dropping you in, and you’re flushing away. You're going so fast, so soon, so terribly. And you just look into Rohan’s eyes, disbelieving, and you feel like your heart 
stops. 
“My own personal Astraea, that’s what I’ve made you, my muse.”
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Come on down to my Twitter, we're playing a fun little game with SK! Sans~ 🔞
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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 10 months
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Um if i saw Sihtric all hot and sweaty in a concert mosh pit i would just go to him and start grinding against him. At some point we'd be making out and he'd whisper song lyrics on my skin in between leaving hickeys there, he'd let me ride his thigh, maybe let his hands help out, make me cum right there and we don't even have know each other's names, i know he'll call me "lady", i'd give him my panties and then just disappear in the crowd 😰 i'll be his mosh pit cinderella 👌
Jesus fucking christ on a stick I did not expect this wild message. But, FINE, I hand you a better one: all this, it happens (with Sihtric's consent!) at a Nine Inch Nails show. Maybe not in a moshpit, but you'll dance with him regardless to the beat, and the song? They're playing "Closer".
Now, if you don't know that one, look it up and thank me later.
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whcrycu · 8 months
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Is anyone okay with me sending them memes? Please like this post if so.
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jjungkookislife · 8 months
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Drabble night: Member and word/phrase
18+ only (age must be on your blog)
anon or not (anons must be 18+ please!)
send one or two members
send a word or phrase or prompt
i will try to do them all but i can't guarantee they'll be good lol
drabble night ends when i close my ask box or fall asleep 👀
feel free to block #jjungkookislife drabble game
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liorah-in-the-bronx · 10 months
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open starter
Liorah shivered as a chilly breeze swept through the dimly lit streets of The Bronx. Her lavender hair, once vibrant and full of life, now appeared disheveled and tangled. She pulled her thin jacket tighter around her body, trying to ward off the cold that seemed to seep into her very bones. Homelessness had become her reality, and these desolate streets had become her home.
As she walked along the bustling sidewalk, she cast a glance at the busy New Yorkers hurrying past her, their lives seemingly untouched by the plight she faced. Liorah couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have a warm bed to sleep in or a comforting meal to nourish her hungry stomach.
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dillyt · 8 months
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Great news for uninsured adults in the USA who want a COVID-19 booster! It now appears that ALL CVS locations are now active participants in the Bridge Access Program. The Bridge Access Program gives out free Covid-19 vaccinations to 18+ adults who otherwise can't afford one, so if you have a CVS near you, please go get one! For others who don't have a CVS near them, please go to vaccines.gov, click on "Find Covid-19 vaccines", fill out which vaccines you prefer (you can mix different vaccines if you have to so i reccomend just marking all of them for the age groups you need), and when the next page loads mark the "Bridge Access Program Participant" option to see only locations that are Bridge Access Program participants. Hopefully, other places that aren't CVS will start participating soon, so just check back every so often to see if there are any updates. The CDC Bridge Access Program website also has more details on what locations will be participating, but only CVS is appearing as an active participant on the vaccines.gov location finder at the moment.
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x4nny-c0m · 3 months
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Wait.
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WAIT
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Were they-
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WERE THEY MAKING OUT WHILE ANGEL DUST WAS /SUFFERING/????
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kujojotarolover · 2 years
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I saw your requests open!
What about reader and Jotaro getting intimate (it's not a first), but reader gets worried about getting naked, they feel like they are not enough for Jotaro, they feel insecure because Jojo could have someone "hot" or more "attractive" than them. What does Jotaro do and say?
Thank you! 💞
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cw: Slight Angst, Hurt / Comfort, Mentions of Body Issues / Body Image, Slight NSFW (Lime) [Which means 18+ Only, please!!], Kujo Jotaro is Bad at Humor, Reader-Insert, Gender Neutral Reader.
author's note: Thank you so much for this request! I had fun writing it. I wasn't quite sure which -taro you wanted, but I decided to go with Part 4 because my inspiration was sparked. Both Reader and Jotaro are finished with college in this, as a head's up. I hope you enjoy!
word count: Approximately 1.6K
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This isn’t something Jotaro ever expected. 
Hesitancy was present in your motions. He’d notice that more and more lately. It didn’t take a keen eye to catch on, either. No. He could tell even before you began to undress that something was amiss. Jotaro couldn’t quite place his finger on what, however. 
Whenever Jotaro would lean in for a kiss, you seemed to pull back before his lips could linger on yours for too long and definitely before he could even wrap his arms around you. Or if he did manage to pull you in for an embrace, you would start squirming and wriggling away ever so subtly to let him know to release you. 
It didn’t make any sense to Jotaro. 
A mental checklist formed in his mind, and he marked off every possibility; yet, no results. Jotaro didn’t understand what sparked this shift, what made you become more reclusive with intimacy. Could Jotaro be boring you? Or, maybe, possibly there’s some inner turmoil within you that’s making touch hard? His brows furrow. 
And then, whenever it was close to bedtime, during the night — Jotaro realized what was wrong. 
Your lips graced him whenever he dipped his head close for a goodnight kiss. His jaw was still for a moment, relishing in the soft lay of your lips. Jotaro’s eyes crept open, fleeting with a few flutters, and that’s when he saw the way a line creased between your eyebrows. Jotaro decided, in that moment, to work his jaw a little more. 
He attempted to graze his way into a deeper kiss, shifting closer and tilting his head a little more so he could mold your mouths together. You stayed, luckily. Jotaro decided to move a little more boldly. One of his hands came up, sliding along the stretch of his own thigh before his fingertips managed to peck across your knee. 
Jotaro heard your breath hitch and the way you seemed to almost freeze in time. His hand paused, and with a bit of wonder, he waited to see if you’d withdraw. Jotaro hadn’t been intimate with you much recently. He’d guessed maybe college and work had gotten in the way, but ever since graduation, you seemed to actively avoid him sexually. 
Before Jotaro could let himself ponder any longer, your breathing sighed back to normal and the tension seemed to slowly dissipate from your limbs. Jotaro’s eyes widened unnoticeably by a fraction, genuinely surprised. He guessed that maybe, just maybe, that was a sign to continue. 
The fingertips stilled against your knee crawled a little before Jotaro’s palm encased the curve of the joint. He then so carefully edged the poor appendage up, trailing so gingerly. Jotaro resumed his kiss, letting his mouth open a little and smack as he grooved his way along. 
Air hissed hastily from your nostrils as you reached up to cradle Jotaro’s face with both of your hands. Your thumbs ran smooth circles along the bone. Tingles tickled all the way down Jotaro’s spine and he quietly groaned before swaying himself into your touch. Heat bloomed along in your wake and Jotaro finally allowed his hand to trail up the length of your thigh, the outskirts of your hips, and then let his itchy fingers scratch at the hem of your shirt. 
Jotaro’s tongue danced a loose lick along your bottom lip as he rolled his thumb and let it slip beneath your shirt. 
A panicked moan keened high within the back of your throat and Jotaro instantly stopped. He stopped kissing you as he reopened his eyes to see what was wrong, but you were quick to act. 
You yanked your head back, away from Jotaro, before you dipped your chin down so close to your breastbone and wrenched your eyes shut. He could see a sickly flush on your face, feel the hotness emanating from your skin. Your features warbled. Jotaro couldn’t help but stare in appall, a gnawing numbness chewing away at his fingertips made them flex down before he shifted away from you. 
What did I do wrong? was Jotaro’s first thought. He almost instinctively wanted to glance at his nails to make sure they weren’t razors, but he fought the urge away because he realized he’d been right: something more was wrong. 
Your breath was shaky as you opened your mouth to speak, “I-I’m sorry, Jotaro, I’m just… um, maybe not… tonight, okay? I’m not really, uh, uhm… feeling it right now.” 
Jotaro respects your wishes. His hands fall into his lap and he straightens his back. But he curves his head, slanting so he could level you with a serious stare. Your voice is dry, but brimming with emotions. Even through the constant swallowing of the sticky saliva produced by your busy mouth, Jotaro can tell you’re on the verge of crying. His eyes narrow. 
“Is something troubling you?” Jotaro queries. 
A pitiful noise escapes you. 
“Don’t worry about it, baby, it’s… um, it’s silly.” You attempt to shut the conversation up before it even begins, but Jotaro refuses. You’ve been antsy, off, and distant lately. He’s tried his hardest to let you work it out because he didn’t just want to shove his nose into your private affairs, but whatever’s hurting you is debilitating. Jotaro knows you need to talk about it lest it simmer, boil, and pop into explosive flames. 
“I won’t think it’s silly,” Jotaro assures, “so you can tell me. I would rather know than have you upset.” 
The lilt of his voice is soothing and calm. His expression doesn’t change, but Jotaro lets his features soften whenever you finally peer up at him through teary eyes. 
Jotaro’s heart is a heavy thrum down into the pit of his naval as he sees those dewdrops collecting at the corners of your eyes, shimmering underneath the glow of the bedside lamp. 
You sniffle back your unshed tears and gulp, nodding, “Well, you see, it’s just. I’ve been thinking — about us, together. Ever since you’ve graduated and started working at the lab. And, ever since I’ve finished college myself.” 
It feels like there’s suddenly a little school of miniature fish worming and swimming around in his chest as he listens to your words. 
Are you breaking up with him? Do you want to break up with Jotaro? Or could it be that he’s doing something wrong? Jotaro tries to schedule his hours to align with yours, with a few extra days where the two of you can spend time together. Or maybe it’s money? Maybe you’re worried about the future? 
And then, you continue. 
“Well, I’m reaching that age where I feel like I’m… I’m close to expiring,” are your closing words. 
Jotaro blinks. All of his previous worries fade away and he’s left staring deep into your eyes. His eyes squint as he trails his tongue along the edge of his teeth and speaks. 
“‘Expiring’?” Jotaro quotes. 
You get a little nervous and wiggle around a bit as you readjust on the mattress. Clasping your hands and squeezing your digits, you let your eyes wander and you can’t help but awkwardly chuckle. 
“Yes, um, like. I don’t think I’m that… attractive anymore.” You uncross your legs only to recross them. “You’re still so beautiful, so handsome. I see men and women stare at you all of the time, astonished! at you. But I’m… I’m not any of those things. Not beautiful, hot, sexy, or… or, well. I just feel like maybe I’m not good enough for you, JoJo.” 
A couple of those tears from earlier thrush back to life and dribble down your cheeks as your chest heaves. 
…And Jotaro doesn’t know what else to do but capture your form in for a hug. His arms snake around your body, gentle and steady as to not further anguish you. Jotaro feels your head press against his sternum. Wet drops stain his shirt and the smell of salt meets his senses as you finally openly sob into him. Jotaro eases half circles against your back to help comfort you. His chin rests against the top of your head as he mulls over his next words. 
Jotaro’s hold doesn’t leave as he begins to speak. 
“You know, I’ve always kind’ve hated how other people view me,” Jotaro notices your sobs lessen as you listen, “like I’m just some piece of meat for someone take a bite of.” 
Your breath stutters as you glance up at Jotaro. 
“I don’t care about looks, not that they really matter, anyway.” Jotaro states bluntly, craning his neck so that the two of you could gaze into the windows of each other’s souls. “It’s pointless. I don’t care what you look like. Good Grief, I’m like the ocean.” 
Your eyebrows knit as Jotaro sighs and closes his eyes. 
“I’m not shallow,” is his conclusion. 
You stare in confusion for a moment before it clicks and you can’t help but giggle. With a shake of your head, fighting through your tears, you sit upright and watch as Jotaro arches his head back to place both of his hands atop your own. His calloused digits lace through your own. He’s looking at you now before he’s completely ruminative again. 
“You will always be more than your looks, kid,” Jotaro veers for your lips again, skimming the sensitive flesh so tightly with a hint of crackling electricity that takes your breath away and makes your heart race along. 
“I want to be intimate with you. That way I can show you how I feel, how you make me feel. I want to be with you and only you.”
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finally at that age where i'm thinking i should get a tattoo. not bc i feel strongly about it, just seems like a waste not to. i've got so much skin i'm not using
#feels so selfish like. all this skin what am i saving it for?#open to design suggestions! (please make me regret this offer)#maybe some deep sea horrors. a pretty watercolor of a gulper eel#once saw a person on the subway with various Skeleton Tattoos on all their limbs#i respected their commitment to the theme#but more than that i respected how all the skeletons were engaged in Activities#dancing in a ballgown. juggling its own (and two other???) skulls. swordfighting. being a mermaid skeleton#ANYWAY. the only reason i haven't already gotten tattoos is i just couldn't be bothered#i'm old enough to know i don't have any strong-but-potentially-temporary feelings driving me towards it#aesthetically i prefer decorated to non-decorated surfaces. but i'm not artistic or thrilled with commitment#honestly it feels like sheer laziness. indecisiveness--nay. immaturity!--that i HAVEN'T gotten a tattoo yet#letting all this blank canvas go to waste. tut tut i need to grow up and be an adult and get a tattoo sleeve already.#really i've put off my responsibilities long enough#(in fairness i DID at one time have 18 different piercings)#(but i took most of them out bc they interfere with wearing headphones and/or shoving my face in my pillow during Sleep Time)#(i only kept the nape piercing bc oddly enough it ended up being the most convenient. and the least painful to get now i think about it.)#(neck piercing? no problem. normal pair of earrings? Tribulations And Suffering. i don't make the rules i just poke them with a stick.)
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sadccx · 2 months
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instagram sadbelive
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hobbymommyy · 1 month
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Resting pouty girl face and new top I crocheted
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chuluoyi · 2 months
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I think about pregnant y/n is nervous after doctor tells them how to make the labor easy later : doing the deed often, but y/n is insecure with her body and satoru's opinion about it..
Just having baby fever, please bare with me, chuu :(
satoru knows it way before your doctor tells him. from the internet. he actually looks it up bc on one night, his urges are just... raging.
it’s going to help you get into the labor and it’s going to make him feel good. a win-win solution—satoru will absolutely do it with you, no questions asked. he still finds you so undeniably attractive it’s actually a surprise.
but you…
“no, satoru. it’s strange—”
“what’s strange?”
“i’m so big already… it’s hard for you to position yourself—”
“honey, you’re going to ride me. i’m not pining you underneath me and crushing our baby.”
“but…”
now he knows. it’s not that. it’s your insecurities. you have always thought that now you aren’t as attractive, and satoru is determined to bend your thoughts otherwise.
“you’re beautiful.”
you look up to him, taken aback by surprise.
he places a hand on your protruding belly. “don’t ever think for one second that you’re not. seeing you all full like this—with our baby, how can i find you less than beautiful?”
“but i’m fat—”
he leans in and shuts you up with a kiss. “shh… even if you are, i don’t care. i still have wet dreams about you like this you know. i love seeing you all round with the baby. makes me think about putting in another in you.”
and you know the rest. that night, you’re riding him, and he loses it so hard when seeing how you bounces up and down on him.
and a few days later, after several nightly sessions…
“satoru… i think i’m having—ah… contractions…”
yeah, just like they said... it speeds up the labor indeed.
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kaithlyndola · 25 days
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~Soft and squishy~
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