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They knew they should turn away. They should absolutely turn away - some rabid jealousy, some savage thing, some desperation, rooted their feet to the ground. 

The one they loved glanced over. 

Their eyes met. Deliberate, air crackling, breath stealing.  Then the one they loved leaned in to kiss someone else, making a goddamn spectacle of it. Each pause another glance, each caress of a thumb a sick taunt and some promise all at once. You’re imagining it’s you, aren’t you? Look at what I can do. 

Everything else in the room had ceased to matter.

“How about another joke, Murray?”

JOKER (2019) dir. Todd Phillips

Scene Prompt

It had been a week since A died, and B had finally gotten around to cleaning out their room. They finished packing the last box around midnight, and got up from the floor. As they stretched, they felt something move behind them. B whirled around and to their shock, A was standing behind them.

"A?" B choked out, taking a hesitant step forward. For the first time in a week, happiness bloomed in their chest. A smiled at them and reached out, as if to touch B. "A-are you alive?"

A's smile faltered. "I'm afraid not," they said, stretching out a hand. Hope died in B's heart as they noticed the transparency of A's fingers. B let out a sob.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you."

"Hey, it's okay," A said. "You couldn't have done anything. B, listen, it's wonderful to see you again, but I have to warn you. Something's coming. Something bad. You and the others have to get ready."

"What? I-I don't understand."

A smiled. "That's why I'm here. Come on, B. Let's work together, one last time."

-Mod Minita

what people think is hard about writing: describing the joy, love, beauty, grief, loss and hope that form the richness of human experience

what is actually hard about writing: describing basic actions such as turning, leaning over, reclining, gesturing, saying something in a quiet voice, breathing, getting up from chairs, and walking across rooms

the strongest

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader

▸ 19k words (um. what)

▸ strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn romance, major angst, fluff, a lot of hurt/comfort

▸ warnings: gojo, spoilers for jjk ch. 65 onwards (gojo’s past arc) and set before jjk vol. 0, references to character death, blood, injury, violence, a bit of swearing, descriptions of trauma and grief, mention of a heart disease, mention of abandonment, mention of overdosage

▸ this fic was born out of my unending awe for the way yuuta’s story in vol. 0 was told because i unironically loved gojo’s line “love is the most twisted curse of all” when he theorized how rika was cursed. i started this fic in 2021 and continued to write for it, little by little, until i can finally say it’s finished. part of my soul rests in this for i love it more each time i reread it.

through a mission he initially perceived as a chore, gojo finds that protecting you was no simple task, especially when things like emotions, responsibility, and morality are thrown into the mix

gojo hates missions like this. it’s the kind where he has to practice patience, discipline, and a plethora of other textbook virtues he never got around to understanding. if he had a choice, he’d get a reassignment in a heartbeat—exorcising a hundred curses in a night seemed a whole lot better than this. after all, gojo works best with his one-track mind backed by his most simplistic philosophy: kill or be killed.

but in missions like this, gojo is constrained by a number of obligations. he has to tune into his surroundings, make sure no civilian is harmed, be mindful about damage to public facilities, blah blah blah. the stakes are higher when it involves other people, he’s told, but gojo couldn’t care less. everything a jujutsu sorcerer does is already for the sake of the world, so did he really have to be so mindful all the damn time?

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a genius 🤯

MIDNIGHT HAZE — rin itoshi.

— notes ⨾ ive been shying away from posting this for too long now. [ sensual/making out ] and heavy on the details hahahs

Rin takes note of the way you're shrinking in your seat beside him, how your arms are protectively tucked in your sides and the subtle but sharp inhales.

from his peripheral vision, he can see that you're gnawing on your bottom lip, gulping hard to swallow your sniffles because he knows you don't like to be seen crying. which is why he's not sure why he's in his living room with you beside him at 2 am watching some sappy sad movie you picked. it's been an hour already since you started your movie marathon and he could've suggested you watch a horror movie instead— but he didn't, and he thinks he regrets it now.

He sighs, pausing the movie and reaching for the box of tissues he's glad he set on the table just in case. he offers it to you, smiling a little to himself when you hesitantly take it, as if you're still not ready to accept you're crying.

“you're such a crybaby” he says. by now a few tears are falling down your cheeks, leaving a damp trail behind in their wake.

“shut up, I'm not. i don't cry often, i swear”, you whimper with the wobble of your lip, and rin laughs. it's the irony of this scenario that swells his heart. you're looking at him with narrow, glassy eyes and warm hues setting on your skin. your words are meant to be firm and legitimate, but you're voice is hushed and low.

“okay, crybaby” he teases, and you pout.

his room glows in a faded shade of honey with the paper lamp you bought him as a housewarming gift. there's nothing but the sound of his steady breathing, and your quivering one. a touch of the scent of lemongrass from the air freshener lingers in the air and rin realises he's been staring at you.

there's still a dampness sticking to your cheeks and rin wants —such a treacherous thing to do— to trace his finger along the trails. feel the smoothness and warmth of your skin. when you realise he's looking at you, embarassment blooms in shades of fuchsia, “stop staring at me like that.”

rin hums. he heard you, doesn't think much about it. and before he realises what he's doing, he's caressing the side of your face. it's a ghost of a touch at first, “staring like what?”

“like you're doing right now” you breath hitches in your throat at the tenderness of rin's caress. momentarily closing your eyes, you lean into his touch. his gaze devours you whole, it makes you want to shrink further into the couch, but at the same time— daring you to wait and see where it takes you.

when all you can hear is the loud thumps of your own heart, watching the steady rise and fall of rin's shoulders as he's gazing through the soul window of your eyes, you're painfully aware that the two of you are alone.

“can't help it,” he mumbles. “god, you're beautiful” he says.

the faint glow of moonlight strips lines of silver across the room, and rin's bathed in luminescence. you can't help but trace the sharp white cut of his collarbone and the flutter of his eyelashes, over the broad expanse of his chest and the slopes of shoulders down to the ridges of hard muscle roping the length of his forearm. you take in his light. he takes in yours.

there are too many details. too much to breathe in yet not enough at the same time. a drug-like midnight haze encompasses the room, the air in the room is electrified and frozen still. rin's fingers travel down from your cheekbones to the corner of your mouth, then brush lightly against your chin.

you can't think. can't say anything. it's like your voice is caught in your own throat. all you feel is the heaviness of the air and the brushes of rin's fingers across your skin. mind blurring with the lines of a countless ‘what ifs’ and moments you've felt the same heaviness in the air, times when the glances you steal from each other lasted longer than they should've.

you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip, and rin's eyes follow the action. his gaze rests there and your falls to his.

there's a momentary pause, as if you're caught in a trance. as if there's hesitation and doubts filling the spaces left behind your words. rin's eyes are still set on your slightly parted lips.

and then it breaks.

you feel it in the form of a shiver running down your spine when the lightning in the room reaches a breaking point, you think rin feels it too. there's a shift in his shoulders when he leans forward at the very second time melts into infinity— a magnetic pull drawing you both in.

rin's other hand supports his weight when he practically crawls on all fours and rolls forward on the leg tucked beneath him.

his lips surround yours— desperate, heated, almost obscene. it's nowhere near the gentle caress from before. teeth nipping and tugging at your bottom lip, long and languid glides of tongue against tongue. he breathes in all of your gasps and mewls, chasing after your breaths to consume you whole like he's waited forever for this very moment. breaths tangle in heated knots of passion, you're holding onto rin's arms, aware that your hands are almost shaking. this is not your first kiss. you've kissed people before. but it's your first kiss with rin and he's made you forget there was anyone ever before him.

you pull away first, breathless and hot. it's addictive— the way rin's lips chase after yours, eyes fluttering open when he can't find them. but he's still close. so, so close. forehead resting on yours and hot breaths fanning against your mouth.

his eyes are brimming with awe and glimmer, but lips swollen and sinful. the contrast is striking— awestruck eyes and moon-bruised lips.

rin falls back into the couch, calming his staggered breaths and throbbing heart.

it takes a long minute before either of you speak again.

“do you regret it?” it's a whisper that's almost raw with desperation and fear. rin's eyes are glued to you again, waiting for an answer.

“i don't. i'd never regret it. do you?” though still breathless, your voice is bold.

“regret?—” he chuckles, as if you asked a dumb question, “—you have no idea, how long I've wanted this. wanted you.” it's a declaration— of all his unconfessed feelings, all the times he'd stopped himself just short of the breaking point. “i feel like i'm about to lose my mind.”

“me too”, is all you can say. it's all you can think.

and if rin senses that, then he smiles, “why don't we try that again?”

© seimirii 2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

i hope this is what you wanted m'lady @rinnahhhh

everyone who reads this post will get some big spicy joy within 24 large minutes (hours)