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京都 美山かやぶきの里 // Miyama Kayabuki-no-sato, Kyoto

#where i’m trying to exist permanently tbh #the picture of kasey

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#he has never looked more insanely delicious in my LIFE #oh lord have mercy my heart is too weak for this #palpitations galore this morning #sukuna #from the source #kasey’s collection: jujutsu kaisen #:spoiler #that’ll be the door

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imagine you live in the same apartment complex and thinking sukuna hates you because when you first met him you asked him what floor he needed to get off at so you could press the button for him and he gave you the NASTIEST look

then said a mean, ”seven” and stayed quiet until he got off and side eyed you like a dick

the truth is that you DO piss him off BUT it’s because the moment you made eye contact with him he felt his heart do a cartwheel and that’s worse than the white haired freak neighbor of his that can never shut up

nonetheless one day you’re holding a bunch of shit in your arms in the elevator because you forgot your bag in your car, one of them being a book that slips from your grasp unnoticed as you get off in the lobby

and when sukuna goes in to get the book and turns around, you’re long gone

so he takes it to his place to give to you whenever he spots you

but curiosity gets the best of him and he sees all these pink little papers sticking out so he opens the pages to them to see what’s the deal

turns out it’s an erotica book and the pink papers were on pages with the filthiest descriptions that give sukuna a hard on because cute little you with the “what floor ? :D” looking ass was reading about getting face fucked and getting endlessly creampied

#so not where i thought it was going but my goodness !!!! #wonderful!!!! #don’t mind me living through this in my head a million times!!! #kasey’s collection: jujutsu kaisen #sukuna

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The anime community and their never-ending obsession with men who look like they haven't slept in 3 months.

It's me, I'm the anime community.

#i’m in love with him btw #utterly and devotedly #choso #kasey’s collection: jujutsu kaisen #kasey’s silver chain #that’ll be the door

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HELLO I don’t know if you take requests but I LOVED that post you made today from the ask so if you do, I was thinking about what Eren would be like if reader called/texted him while he was at work and teased him over the phone by touching themselves? YOU ABSOLUTELY DONT HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DONT WANT I just love how you write Eren you are one of my favorite writers for him

hehe i wouldn't say i often take requests but i'll entertain if something tickles me. i'll always say yes to you though, especially because you asked so nicely🤍

content: ~1.5k word count. husband!eren x female!reader. nudes, phone sex, semi-public masturbation, light degradation, 18+ only.

eren didn't want to go to work, believe him. who actually wants to go to work, anyway? despite his convincing, you were still acting as if he wanted to leave your side, pouting in bed when he wouldn't spoon you for 'just one more minute' because he knew it would turn into ten.

as much as he wished he could stay home and spend the day with you, he couldn't. he couldn't even risk running behind this morning because his day was to start at nine o'clock sharp, stacked full with back-to-back meetings. but based on the look you shot him on his way out the door, eren had a feeling you were about to make his long day a whole lot longer.

he had only been at work for about an hour before you texted. enjoying your day without me? the message, though it made him roll his eyes, was innocent enough. but that didn't last long.

during his second meeting of the day, already dragging by slower than the first, eren felt his phone vibrate against his thigh. he didn't need to look to know it was another message from you, especially after it buzzed again, taunting him.

just a peek wouldn't hurt, he thought, i don't even have to reply right away. the meeting was being held over video call; no one would even know if he checked his phone.

face trained straight ahead, directly toward the monitor, he slipped his phone from his pocket. in short bursts, he flitted his eyes down to unlock his phone, then again to swipe to your messages. he tried his best to be subtle with it.

miss me yet?

below it, in a separate message, a photo of you.

yes, he tried to be subtle with it, but he failed. big time.

eyes widened in shock, eren darted a hand out to shut his camera off. he hastily blamed it on technical difficulties, all the while, he was responding to you in frenzy.

baby, you cannot be doing this to me right now. you know i’m in an important meeting!

he watched—more like gawked at the image—as you quickly typed out, call me after ♡

by the look of it, you were still lounged in bed, right where he had left you. the only thing that changed was that you now wore next to nothing. barely covered by your thin bedsheet, eren admired your form.

he had seen you like this, countless times. he had learned every curve beneath his fingertips so intimately that he could draw you off memory alone if he had the knack for it. but there was something different—perhaps something more special—about the sight when you had captured it on camera for him. knowing you settled back into your shared bed, the one he devotedly fucked you in near-nightly, spread your pretty pussy, and snapped a photo with no one but him clouding your thoughts.

eren couldn't help but stare for a minute, maybe longer. the meeting had fizzled into nothing more than white noise. if someone were to call his name right now, he doubted he'd hear it. he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so flustered, but even after all the years spent together, you still managed to have that effect on him whether he liked it or not.

it was obvious you were up to no good—practically asking for trouble, except he was the one who'd inevitably take the fall for it. he didn't have the time to call you unless he wished to have his boss chew him out. even so, he found himself stumbling into your trap. he was only human, after all; he wasn't above thinking with his dick from time to time. so he rang you between meetings, justifying it by calling with only a single earbud in, foolishly convinced he could multitask while on the phone with you.

after a few rings, you answered. at least, eren was pretty sure you answered. the line was silent. there was a split second where he thought the call had dropped. as he started to say your name, he was interrupted. he heard soft breaths on the other end of the phone. tiny noises, like hums and huffs through your nose. eren's mouth ran dry.

"ah—i need you," you breathed, gasped. "i couldn't wait for you to get home."

you feigned innocence as you said it, your voice sweetened up as if you were truly helpless. but your husband knew you better than that; he knew he didn't have a demure little wife waiting for him at home, but fuck, did he find it hot. so he'd always fall for the act anyway.

caught up in it, eren's fingertips ghosted over his keyboard with a slight tremble. his eyes were on his computer screen, but the documents were blurry and out of focus. everything was blurry and out of focus, except you of course.

he needed to know what you were doing to yourself. did you have your vibrator? if so, which one did you choose? or had you decided to use your fingers, circling the pads of them against your clit? maybe you were fingering yourself, knuckles deep but whining for more, growing wetter by the second as you dreamt of his fingers—how they could reach places yours couldn't.

before he could ask—discover if you were grinding against your hand or his pillow—the door to his office flew open.

“jaeger, i—"

eren jolted, almost to a comical degree, and his co-worker rightfully laughed, offhandedly commenting how he didn't seem the type to startle easily. eren spoke with him—well, tried to speak with him. it was a challenge because he still had you in his ear, moaning now, louder than before. you were asking where he had gone, begging for him to talk you through it—to tell you every dirty thing he wanted to do to you.

eren couldn't repeat a word his co-worker had said to him. he only waited for him to finish, cleared his throat, and told him to close the door on his way out. eren then marked out for lunch, hoping it would buy him some time.

whether it was his sense of decency or self-control that snapped first, eren wasn't sure. but when you cried out his name, he could no longer stop himself from reaching for his cock, throbbing to be touched by you. his hand would have to suffice for now.

cursing both you and himself, he tugged his slacks down to the middle of his thighs, just low enough that he could touch himself, too. eren thumbed over the leaky tip of his cock, hissing in a tangled mix of relief and utter humiliation. he couldn't believe you had brought him to his knees like this. succumbing to jerking himself at work had to be a new low, even for him.

"what a needy little thing you are," eren spoke into the phone. his voice was quiet but guttural and deeply authoritative. "thinking you can interrupt my workday just so i can help get you off."

he made it sound like a burden, but he only fisted his cock faster.

"yes," you moaned, drawing out the simple word as if it were longer than just the syllable. you were babbling now, talking to him exactly how he liked. "fuck, i'm your needy little thing—your needy little slut."

his brain short-circuited then and there, incapacitating him to the point where he could only mutter on about how fucking hot you were between breaths, squeezing his cock as if his hand could ever compare to you.

you were close; he could hear it when you whimpered, "eren—"

“that’s right," he cut in. he was right there with you. "only think about me when you come. think about coming all over my cock like a good girl."

with his free hand, eren pulled up the picture you sent him, staring at you while your moans became strained and choppy on the other end of the phone. such a perfect pussy, he thought, like it was made just for him.

your breath hitched in your throat, the final tell-tale sign that you were coming undone.

“that's it. come for me, baby." he needed to finish when you did. he stroked himself, not minding the squeak in his chair as he quickened his pace. "i wanna hear it—god, i need to hear you."

one last sob, ripped right from the pit of your lungs, and eren came with you. his stomach tightened, eyes screwing shut, as he toppled over the edge of his release. he pumped himself through it, even when it was nearly too much, until he knew you had stopped twitching and were blissfully lazed in bed.

only then did he come to his senses again, swearing under his breath when he realized his situation—the mess he made across his phone, not to mention on his slacks.

you were giggling into the phone now; eren could hear your breathless smile in it. there was no returning to work now, was there?

"fine. you win," he surrendered with a sigh. he logged out of his computer. "i'll be home in thirty minutes."

#i will marry him. #i will i will i will #eren #kasey’s collection: attack on titan #:phone! #that’ll be the door

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tired

#me too baby me too #eren #kasey’s collection: attack on titan #kasey’s silver chain #that’ll be the door

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bro she's a piece of art, pin her against the wall

#the picture of kasey #jar of dirt #that’ll be the door

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nsfw, mdni. cw: impact play, rough sex. gojo x f!reader are married and he is referred to as husband several times, reader is referred to as kitty, baby, and sweetheart. little rough sex with a little pillow talk and banter 🤷‍♀️ wc 1.1k

divider by the wonderful @/cafekitsune

“You’re gonna take everything I give you, aren’t you baby?”

Your ass jiggles against him with every rough thrust of his hips and his cock practically spears your squelching cunt, the lewd stretch of your skin across his girth a sight he’s struggling to rip his eyes from. It’s gorgeous, you’re gorgeous, and he’s so overwhelmed he has to tip his head back and let his eyes flutter shut to give himself a break lest he finish too quickly.

It wouldn’t be the first time and of course, he’d make up for it, but this time he forces himself to stop looking. Self control isn’t usually something either of you bother applying in the oasis of your shared bedroom, more concerned with making each other feel good than any strict dynamic play, but he can’t deny that the act itself does feel surprisingly good to hold back. Testing his own limits, seeing how much he can deny himself since the vice grip of your gummy walls does little to deter him from filling you up just how you like.

You’re always telling him to be patient, after all, so you’re still inevitably getting what you want either way.

Satoru’s bottom lip is tucked between his teeth and he grunts, focusing on the sensation of your skin bouncing against his while keeping those eyes shut tightly. He wants to smack your ass, to hear the sharp clap of his palm against your supple flesh and watch a red mark bloom in its place, but he restrains himself knowing it would almost certainly send him toppling over the edge to feel you clench around him in response to the sharp pain.

Glancing over your shoulder you see your husband with his head tipped back, his mouth wide open, and his eyes closed. You do clench around him and he gasps, brows furrowing over eyes that remain screwed shut.

“You’re so quiet back there. Cat got your tongue?”

Your words are broken with moans and your pants, struggling to keep up with his pace while working your hips back against him, but they get his attention and his eyes flutter open, a groan leaving him as soon as he’s once again met with the vision of your pretty cunt wrapped around him like pretty paper on a gift.

He grins.

“Nah, my little kitty is too busy taking my cock to take anything else.”

His eyes upon you feel like a ten ton weight, heavy enough that you press your chest into the bed beneath you, and he knows he isn’t going to be able to stave off his orgasm for much longer given the shift in angle and how much deeper it has allowed him inside of you.

The blunt head of his cock brushes against space he didn’t know he could occupy inside of you and the sweet melody of moans leaving your mouth tells him that you’ve been rendered speechless, cheek resting on the sheets below you and face turned to watch his balls bounce and slap against your thighs.

This man you love so deeply that you’ve actively encouraged him to roughly nestle himself to the hilt inside of you looks every bit the god he may be when he’s on his knees with you bent in half in front of him. Even the dim, unimpressive lighting of your bedside lamp can’t rob him of his beauty and your heart pounds in your chest, in time with the rapid contractions of your pussy, seeing his hair fall over his eyes that are still trained on where your bodies are connecting.

“Satoru,” you whine and he sticks his tongue out of his mouth, tip poking out of the corner and teeth biting down on the rest of it. The look drives you wild and makes you whimper, his teeth bared in a grin knowing very well the effect he has on you.

You’re so close, drooling from your mouth and cunt alike, toes curling where they’re pressed against his calves and his hands grip your hips harshly enough you know there will be a mark later but gently enough he doesn’t hurt you.

With a few more thrusts and a few more of your babbles and reverent praises of his name, he gives in to the urge to smack your ass and you tighten around him with a yelp, eyes fluttering shut while your hips slow their dash to keep up with his while you cum. He fucks you through the shockwaves of pleasure, reaching his own high through shallow thrusts, warm release filling your insides until it seeps out around his cock. He keeps himself buried inside of you until your legs start to give out and you shift to move but he stops you, big hand massaging your hip.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

As always, he does, one hand coming to your belly and the other staying anchored on your hip to help you gently rise to your knees. Satoru scoops you into his arms and holds you against his chest and the two of you fall into a tangled heap onto the sheets below, your sweaty cheek pressed against the smooth skin of his chest.

Basking in the afterglow isn’t unfamiliar to either of you but your husband always makes sure to take extra good care of you after rougher sessions, hands smoothing down your back and your sides, fingers massaging your thighs and hips expertly, holding you against his long body and kissing your forehead enough times that you start to become faux annoyed with him, squirming away despite the tight grip he has on your waist.

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.”

Your annoyance is nothing to worry about though, the soft look in your eyes while you look up at him and pet his sweat-dampened hair away from his face saying everything.

“I love you.”

Satoru grins down at you while you speak your soft words, eyelids drooping with exhaustion.

“Gross.” He punctuates the word with a single kiss to your forehead and you roll your eyes half heartedly, nuzzling into his chest and listening to him speak. “I love you too. So much.”

You’ve played into his trap though and he wraps himself around you, all long legs and huge smile and big arms but you don’t complain this time and keep petting the hair off of his forehead, safe and comfortable in his arms.

“Warn me next time you look over your shoulder like that,” he whispers and you giggle coquettishly. “It gets me every time.”

Shaking your head, you look up at him and wrinkle your nose. He crosses his eyes when he looks down at you and the two of you laugh together, the sounds thin and tired but warm and healing just like the love you share.

“Anything for you,” you promise and he knows you don’t mean it but he holds you against him all the same, time and space lost when the universe is in his arms.

#eeoooeeeoooeeeoo #call the ambulance i’m unwell #unWELL I SAY UNWELL #don’t mind me just rereading this over and over and over #satoru #kasey’s collection: jujutsu kaisen #:domestic! #that’ll be the door

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#he really is pretty :(( #armin #kasey’s collection: attack on titan #precious boy i wanna smush your cheeks and smother you with kisses #that’ll be the door

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i forgot i made the poll when i started this piece

#HIS LAUGH COULD COMBAT CLIMATE CHANGE OKAY THIS IS SCIENCE #suguru #kasey’s collection: jujutsu kaisen #kasey’s silver chain #that’ll be the door

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Tomura shigaraki x reader, tomura is an art student, takes place in the same universe as my charcoal artist!dabi stuff, tomura is like very insecure in some of this, if the writing feels pretentious and flowery and unnecessary that’s because it is<3

His hair is getting long.

Running your fingers through the ends, you notice how it’s nearing his shoulders now. His head is in your lap, staring up at you as you lean against the mountain of pillows on your bed, clad in a pair of underwear and the tee shirt he arrived in. His jeans are stained with paint, hanging low on his hips, unbuttoned and quickly thrown on so he wasn’t naked and vulnerable in your lap. You thumb at the scar by the corner of his mouth and he kisses it, then your palm, then your wrist. Tomura takes your hand in between three careful fingers and places it over his heart.

Love is not how they told you it would be.

The two of you were assigned to the same group in painting iii, formed so that the students could give one another critiques independently. Only, you couldn’t find a single thing to critique in his work.

Tomura worked with oils—or Tomura lived and breathed and died for them. He painted people, always caught in a moment, in the middle of talking, or yelling, or drinking, or sleeping. His attention to detail was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, colors you’d never realized could appear in skin tones, shine on limbs and cheeks that made his subjects both more alive and human than any real person. His work felt sort of dirty, sweaty, perpetually damp. But it was beautiful. You couldn’t say a thing about it.

He’d confronted you about it one afternoon, stuffing handouts from the professor into his bag, which looked to be filled with more loose paper and no text books.

“Do you hate it that much?” It was the first time he’d ever talked to you, actually talked to you and not just about your work during a critique. “You never have anything to say.”

It stuns you for a moment, his anger and annoyance, how he’s decided to aim it at you instead of the group of people clamoring for issues with his painting all class period.

“I’m supposed to point out flaws, tell you where you could have done better, explain how I wasn’t moved,” you explain, staring down at your shoes, “but I can’t do that. There’s not—I don’t see how I could possibly tell you how you could do better.”

“That’s bullshit.” He mutters, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t just say what I want to hear. I won’t like you any more for it.”

He leaves you standing alone in the classroom. Like you? He thought it was about being liked? You’re in such awe of him that you can’t speak, and he thinks you’re just trying not to hurt his feelings.

During the next class, when he stands before your group for critique, you don’t say a word. And he keeps looking at you like he’s waiting for it, like you’ll be angry enough at him for last week that you’ll rip his painting apart. But your silent, once again. Nothing’s changed.

He’s the first one out of the class once you’re dismissed. He walks fast, and you’re out of breath by the time you catch up with him, resting a hand on his shoulder that he flinches away from. Your breath comes out in quick puffs that you can see, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself as you fix him with a glare.

“You’re wrong.” You say once he’s turned around. “I don’t care if you like me or not after critique. It’s not about sparing your feelings. I’ve never seen anything like what you do. And I watch you in class, and you paint like something is clawing it’s way out of you, like you need to do it or you’ll die.”

“You’re honest with everyone else but me.” He argues, unable to accept your words. You have real things to say to your peers. You don’t hold back with them. You make them better. Why couldn’t you do that for him?

“You are not everyone else.” You watch his eyes widen at your words, and if you had any shame, maybe you wouldn’t have said something so bold. “You’re leagues above all of us. Everyone knows it, and that’s why they’re harsh on you.”

Where you say nothing, your group rips into him, picking at each and every detail until there’s nothing left. He takes it all in stride, accepting their words like it’s absolute truth, and returning to his canvas with sunken shoulders and furrowed brows, concentrated on how he could be better. It’s exactly what they want.

He opens his mouth the say something, but stops, feeling a drop of something fall on his cheek. He looks up at the dark clouds above the two of you, and it begins to rain. He curses, taking a hold of your hand and leading you underneath the front of the design building.

“They’re harsh because I deserve it.” He points out, still holding your hand. You could say a million things right now, tell him in detail how moved you are by every piece he makes, but his hand is still in yours, and you don’t trust yourself not to trip over your words because of it. You can only shake your head.

“Why can’t you accept that you’re brilliant?” You question, exasperated. It makes him laugh, his smile being something you’ve never seen before. It makes you think of all the people who have seen this smile before, the stretch of his lips, the creases by his eyes. Had they felt this lucky?

“I think you’re crazy.” He tells you, knocking his knuckles against your head.

“Do you wanna go out?” You ask before you’re able to stop yourself. He leans away from you, surprised.

“What?” You can’t find the words to speak, to tell him you’re sorry, that it was uncalled for, that you’re a total creep. His face is red, you notice. He speaks a moment later, “yes.”

Rising from your lap, he leans over you, kissing your lips with as much tenderness as he had your palm. Your lips are his favorite thing to paint, second only to your thighs which he grips tightly as he wraps your legs around his waist.

When he’d met you, all full of hope and belief in him of all people, he’d thought of you as such a faraway thing. Unattainable. If you couldn’t talk about his work, there was no way you’d ever talk to him. But he was wrong, something he rarely ever is, your faith in him changing how he viewed his own art forever.

He paints you. He paints you a lot. He even paints the two of you together, though your faces are never in those ones, just bodies tangled together on one canvas. He’d call you his muse if you didn’t hate it. And besides, he knows you’re so much more.

If there had been something inside of him clawing it’s way out, you had noticed it, freed it, kept it safe with you so it wasn’t so agonizing to carry on his own.

No, it’s not how they told him it would be at all.

#‘he’d call you his muse if he didn’t hate it’ #i am shaking physically mentally emotionally #tomura sweet sweet boy this is what you need. this is what you deserve #shiggy #kasey’s collection: my hero #that’ll be the door

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Sukuna is old. He is also weirdly cultured for the monster that he is. With so much time on his hands, he loves indulging in arts and literature, and as with everything else he tries, he's good at it. You wouldn't know this, of course, you are only his pet. The time you spend with him is limited and hardly consists of intellectual conversation. You are there to serve one purpose and you know that quite well. So when you wake up in his bed one morning, two things come as a surprise. First that you're even here. It's one of those rare occasions when Sukuna couldn't be bothered kicking or carrying you out of his chambers once your time together was up. Second, he's awake, bent over his desk and so concentrated on a little figurine in his hand that he doesn't immediately notice you've shuffled awake. Once your eyes focus, you see that he's holding a tool in his other hand. He's carving wood. You're almost hypnotized by the scene. The scene feels so private that even a pet like you, who knows Sukuna in the most intimate way, feel like you shouldn't be watching. But you can't look away.

"Awake?", he asks, without sparing a glance at you. You apologize for staring, and look for your clothes around the bed. You throw them on just precisely enough to cover up until you reach your chambers, just wanting to be as quick and innocuous as possible. You wait for Sukuna's approval to leave. He gives you a simple nod, once more avoiding to look at you. You leave feeling conflicted. Special, because he allowed you to stay and watch (even as little as you did), but saddened because he barely looked at you, once more solidifying in your mind that you're only interesting to him when you're naked and bent over. As long as you've been here, you could never stop wishing for his validation.

Sukuna knows when you get insecure too. He notices the way your eyes droop, the way you close in yourself and seem absent in his presence. He justifies this excessive worry about you by telling himself he likes to be the only thing that bothers his pets. All the way until he realized he already is the only thing that can make you said. This realization falls upon him one time he lashes out on you and sees the immediate change of heart on your face. Now, he isn't one to apologize, especially not to someone who is as low under him as his pet. But why does he feel guilty when he sees this one act of his ruin your day? When he catches a glimpse of you sitting in the garden with your head hung low, or leaving more food on your plate than you usually do. If only you knew the way you really made him feel.

He beckons you to his chambers, and you follow three steps behind him like a good pet does. You didn't expect this time to be any different than others. You've become used to serving Sukuna on days you loved him and on days you hated him. But when he tells you to close your eyes, you know something is different. You obey, of course, and listen to his footsteps as he fetches something from the room. His hand takes yours and opens it, placing a piece of wood onto your palm. You already know, but you wait for him to allow you to open your eyes. He lightly presses his thumb on your cheek under your eye, and when you look, you find a small wooden fawn, curled up and asleep.

"Master!!..", you start, but nothing else can leave your mouth. You turn the figure around in your hand, inspecting and admiring the details. He's given you gifts before, but not ones carved by his own hand. Not ones made with love.

"You don't have to squint anymore.", Sukuna says, almost jokingly. But his face is as serious as ever as he looks at you, his muse. He thinks of the first time he's exhausted you to the point of passing out right after your nightly meetings. You were relatively new and very unsure of your safety. He thinks of your small body curled up in sleep on the edge of his bed, knees pressed to your chest in a primal, subconscious attempt to protect yourself. His little pet, his fawn.

You slur on and on about how beautiful it is, how you don't know how to thank him, the usual when you receive a gift. And as usual, Sukuna shuts you up with a kiss. You welcome it and wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself in to him and letting him take you to the bed.

And he takes things slow tonight. He's gentle and so, so giving. Every sensation is delicate, prolonged and heightened to exhaustion. You cling to him, pull him impossibly close, and come apart under the comforting weight of him. Afterwards, you hold his hand to your face and kiss it softly. His hands, so large and strong, capable of such violence, yet for you they craft gifts, cradle, caress, love... in a very subtle and distant way, of course. With these thoughts your hands slip away from his, you turn around and quickly drift off.

He looks at you now, sleeping so close to him. Trusting him with your back, and turning your curled up form to the outside world. As if he is no longer a perceived danger. He smiles to himself in victory, and plants a chaste kiss to your shoulder to wish you one final goodnight.

#soft sukuna just claims my very soul #a monster with a gentleness just for you?? sign me UP #sukuna #kasey’s collection: jujutsu kaisen #this will be living in my head rent free for a while btw. gonna imagine being his favorite lil #pet for weeks #weeks i say #that’ll be the door

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Doing the Michael Meyers challenge to see if you can get into the house and lock the door before Bakugou gets you and he takes it soooooo seriously.

Truly menacing as he takes quick, steady strides and sure you've beaten him to the door but can you unlock them and close it in time.

You've seen Bakugou stop doors with his massive grip or steel toed boots. You've seen him close distances with his long stride that would take you twice the time and you've seen how he gets when he's got his eye fixed on something.

#i’m hoooooowling over here oh lord #have mercy this him all i can’t #kasey’s collection: my hero #bakugo #:halloween! #that’ll be the door

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as much as i love corruption arcs, there's just something so sexy about a character that can't be corrupted, to the point that he un-corrupts you instead

#still don’t know what’s happening but it made me laugh for the first time in three days so #kasey’s collection: baldur’s gate 3

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bro's so majestic

#rin will you marry me #plEASE #i’ll do whatever you want for the rest of my life including but not limited to: #you #kasey’s collection: blue lock #kasey’s silver chain #itoshi

[kingdumkum]

request from ask

#this is Most Precious #kasey’s collection: jujutsu kaisen #satoru #suguru

[kingdumkum]

逢魔が時。

#mentally i’m here #well mentally i’m a lot of places but truly i want to be HERE #the picture of kasey #mood