Gojo Turning Off Limitless For One Second Exclusively To Boop Everyone

updated my muselist and it's the whole psych ward fr:

" Are you expecting me to be surprised, Sherlock?" ( from Mycroft)

‘ hardly the issue here, shitty brother. ’

sure enough, the vacant space in 221B for the better part of the years following their fabricated demise makes him feel sorry enough to not act on the defensiveness as he’d usually do, faced with his brother’s unwavering stare. what he can’t entirely wash away is the sense that the more he gives away, the less he has to call his and william’s own, as if the mere telling of those private moments would signify losing that exclusiveness to them and yes it’s selfish, yes, it’s unkind, but he’s never bothered to learn how to give up this hunger that started since the moment he laid eyes on those ruby-tinted eyes, near the spiral staircase.

sherlock rolls the filter of his cigarette between sharp teeth, eyes scanning the room - anywhere else but his brother’s face. ‘ that’s all you’re getting out of me anyways. you’ve probably heard from Albert already — we’ve been hopping cities since New York, solved a couple of mysteries here and there, nothing that should concern you. or what? you’re trying to act like a doting mother at your age? gives me the creeps. ’

@lightcreators

before  bed  kiss. 🧍🏾‍♂️ souma and mr geto sir.

it’s in bed that he feels the most restless.

like an earthquake, memories that he’d long since buried would resurface, the epicenter of which started with the familiar voices of old classmates and friends murmuring his name, in the dark, sometimes obtaining a physical form in the corner, sometimes as lingering touch on the set of his brows, ghostly as thin air. he rolls up on his bed and is greeted by the blurry vision of still curtains. summer’s embrace coated him in a layer of sweat, uncomfortable enough that lying down and still on his mattress does little to appease the thoughts swirling in his mind. 

it’s until he grasps at the strings of consciousness that he notices the body lying next to him, the soft breathing pressing at his sides as though cradling a new-born bird in hand, warm and fragile to the touch. the night sat still, eerily so. if a pin dropped, maybe souma and him would’ve been able to hear it echo in the quietness of the room.

“can’t sleep?” more like an observation than a question, suguru whispers from his position, his voice a hiss as though every syllable carried the weight of exhaustion as they left his lips. though this night is like any other, souma’s presence in his room is entirely new. not for the first time he’s overcome with urge to touch him, unsure whether the souma in front of him is corporeal or a midnight illusion, a haunting presence to torture his lonely soul.

or an escape.

suguru blinks weariness away, a single digit traces the sharp dip of souma’s nose, then down to his lips. there, his skin is greeted by the warmth of his shallow breathing. he remembered, then, like a flame flickering before it’s put out, the taste of those lips against his own. 

they’d been soft, feather-like, and bittersweet. it had none of the innocence he imagined, so foreign, and he remembered having to chase after the sensation, as though it eluded him, not out of fear but something else entirely. ‘have you been told’ he’d said in an undertone, burying his nose in the crook of his shoulder, lips pressed onto sun-kissed skin and into a thin smile, ‘that you’re like a scaredy cat.’

although he meant nothing bad by it, his words gained him a light reprimand, and the moment subdued into quietness and then into deep sleep. he wondered how long souma had lay awake, if he’d waited for suguru to open his eyes and pick up from they stopped - the conversation or the intimate exchange altogether. he glances at the clock on his bedside. it’s way past midnight.

“usually, people are scared of the dark.” the hand that touched souma’s face had moved down, two fingers waltzed across his arm and the dip of his waist, voice going down by a few octaves, “sorcerers aren’t the exception. i believe that there’s an irony in that. we’re born with the ability to stare into the dark, the blackest darkness you can imagine, and yet we can conjure a primal fear like that. if a darkness curse existed, i wonder if it would be something that can be exorcised. it’s rhetorical, you don’t have to answer.”

a pause. their gazes meet, gold and grey, the shades of a cloudy sky. though it’s too hot outside to bring their bodies closer, the proximity mirrors the feeling of spilled blood.

“are you afraid of the dark?”

@sukareo

──     you hold onto what you have; you do not give it up easily, even when you know it is poisoning you. // multi-muse as penned by geese . canon-compliant . unaffiliated

──  blog . muses . cr . main

disclaimer & muses under the cut.

active muses:

JJK: * suguru geto * gojo satoru

BLEACH: * ulquiorra schiffer * aizen sousuke

CHAINSAW MAN: * angel devil * makima * yoshida hirofumi * aki hayakawa * yoru

RECORD OF RAGNAROK: * beelzebub * hades * poseidon

SAKAMOTO DAYS: * gaku * osaragi

GOLDEN KAMUY: * ogata hyakunosuke

LINK CLICK: * liu xiao (testing)

TOKYO GHOUL: * yomo renji

BUNGO STRAY DOGS: * fyodor dostoyevski * nakahara chuuya

MORIARTY THE PATRIOT: * sherlock holmes * albert james moriarty

PSYCHO PASS: * kogami shinya

KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN: * rokudo mukuro

OMNISCIENT READER'S VIEWPOINT: * yoo joonghyuk

TGCF: * hua cheng

DGM: * tyki mikk

one. quite selective with the blogs I decide to follow.

two. common roleplay courtesy is expected: no Godmoding unless plotted otherwise, cutting posts in replies, respect for characterization, and so on.

three. shipping is allowed, though I must ask the muse is +18. that being said, no smut with underage characers will happen.

four. I am caught up with all series for the most part, as well as adjacent works. taking this into consideration, there will likely be spoilers from time to time. I’ll try keep everything properly tagged.

five. random starters, unprompted asks and plotting is highly encouraged!

six. i have no issue with duplicates. the more, the merrier, i think. feel free to follow. unfortunately i don't do exclusives, don't really have mains either. all muses are welcome to plot interaction.

Please be patient with me. my activity will be inconsistent and replies come as I feel them, not in drafting order.

thank you for reading! the name is geese, 25+ she/her they/them

Art by  AoiBara

Posted with Permission (reprint/edit and/or commercial use prohibited)

HAPPY LINK CLICK ANNIVERSARY - THEY DROP THIS???

[ VISIT ]: sender goes to the receiver's house for a casual visit. oh no mr cult leader geto....gojo visiting

the dregs of cursed energy warn him first. 

second comes the overwhelming intensity of his presence, like the roar of a waterfall that splits sky and earth in halves. satoru carries it like it’s his nature, like he was born and raised for exactly this. blessed, in a way. flawlessly human, greedy. 

he feels the eyes on his back before satoru has fully stepped into the room, listless and uncaring for decorum. the tatami that should’ve given out under his weight and signaled of his approach remains static, free of contact and it’s obvious that satoru hasn’t deactivated limitless yet. suguru doesn’t turn around, hand idly bringing closer the flame to a candle, painting the room in an array of golden hues.

‘ i expect you to come by earlier. what’s the drawback? ’ he blows the match, smoke crawling up the air and diffusing close to the ceiling. he follows its trail for a millisecond, turning around to find satoru standing a couple strides away from him. suguru smiles at him, ‘ is someone following you? ’

he needn’t wait for a response, knowing any spy would’ve been taken care of before even approaching the boundaries of his temple. instead he covers the terrain, narrowing the space in-between, so close that he can sense the inviting warmth suspended in the atmosphere and something else, too, like sun-bathed skin, damp with sweat. his head tips slightly to the side, chin lifted up as he examines satoru’s face, in search of anything new. a few weeks worth of absence turns the mind into a swamp. it takes him only a moment to discern the signs of sleepless nights, albeit patched up with RCT. what does it say about him, that he can tell the lies apart from what is true, even after years of being on opposite sides?

he breathes an internal sigh of relief when satoru doesn’t mention it, pretends that he doesn’t notice the flash of concern in his frame though he waltzes smoothly through the surface, fingers tracing the hard lines of satoru’s jaw and collar-bone. 

‘ you look tired. ’ is all he offers.

it’s all satoru needs to hear, he supposes. for old times sake.

for a long time, they haven’t needed the other. waking up to the waning wonder that this is how it’s going to be for the rest of their remaining years on earth. though selfishness calls them back, swimming straight towards the hook. satoru’s arms unlace the knot of his gojo-kesa, silk and string coming loose, undone. the hiss of fabric follows until it’s all pooled on the floor. suguru’s eyebrows rise in wonder. ‘ ah - desperate, aren’t we? you were being followed, after all. you could’ve telported. the fewer ways they have to trace your movements, the better. why show them? ’

suguru devours the distance, step by torturously slow step, lips parting to whisper next to satoru’s ear, ‘ are you the jealous type? ’

@cursedfell

Okay but can this actually be a thing??? Gojo just appearing out of nowhere all the time and either scaring everyone's muses or becoming witness to the craziest things ever coughs LG and CXS making out coughs and he's just there like 🧍

@cursedfell