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inkykeiji · 25 days

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not sure if this helps but i just read this a few days ago..

https://www.tumblr.com/moodyvoid/746788409535791104/tomura-promising-to-protect-his-leagues-ideals

i totally agree with you tho!! this is so fucking annoying i hate the way they are moving forward with his character!!!! :c

bnha manga spoilers + clari going on a huge rant that is very much tainted by extremely intense and deeply personal emotions

it does not help, but i appreciate you sharing it with me anyway anon <33 thank you for trying to help me feel a little better, genuinely, i really do appreciate it so much!

ugh. ‘his league’s ideals’ aren’t even his own ideals. his entire life has been a lie—was he really a victim of hero society, ever? would he have been a victim of hero society, and especially in the way dabi and toga and twice and spinner were, had he not been given decay? had he been able to completely live out his life normally, without any interference from afo (completely ignoring the fact that, apparently, he wouldn’t even exist without afo and his meddling)?

he’s a fraud. he shouldn’t be the leader of the league. he IS a victim, yes. a victim of a villain, a victim of his abusive father who hated heroes, who is probably more of a victim of hero society than tenko ever would’ve been—so at least there’s that indirect link. but to me, and this is purely my own personal opinion, having decay not be his natural quirk takes so much away from him as a character. i interpreted quirks as a metaphor for undesirable qualities that normal society shuns. as such, having decay be his original, natural quirk, to me, made him a much more fascinating and complex and MESSY character. now he feels one dimensional and boring. all of his ‘decisions’ were tainted by what he thought was true—but none of it actually came from within him, at all, ever. not even a sliver of it. can we even say ‘that was all him’ when we know that the basis for all of those decisions is entirely built on lies and deceit? when literally everything tomura knows, and stands for, and believes, has been built on a lie? when it was all done BECAUSE of the ideals and opinions implanted within him, that don’t have a single hint of truth to them and don’t actually pertain to him or who he would’ve been and what he would’ve suffered at all? i think he genuinely cares for the league, yes. i think he genuinely likes video games, yes. but the reasons and motivating factors behind those decisions are ???????????

i just feel like it would’ve been so much more impactful and sinister for afo to intentionally seek out a child who he KNEW had a quirk that would be shunned and would alienate him from society regardless and then use that trait as a tool to manipulate the child and mold tomura into exactly what he wanted, than to just completely engineer the entire thing from the very start. this single change in detail suddenly alleviates tomura of all responsibility, which makes him feel really flat from a character standpoint. sure, tenko has a great heart or whatever, but i personally am not interested in that. i liked the moral greyness of the league. i liked what they stood for. tomura/tenko having this pure heart within him, or this capacity for a pure heart (ie making these choices to care for and save his little jigsaw of a found family), while also struggling against the shackles society would’ve imposed on him for being born with such a quirk, and the real anger and hatred he would’ve felt because of that, is soooo much more interesting (and relatable!) than tenko just being, what, a decent person? idk.

in other words, none of tomura’s ‘decisions’ hold any weight. obviously, tomura has been groomed and manipulated by afo since he was very young—most of his ideals and opinions were shaped by and influenced by afo. but at least if decay had been his own quirk, there would’ve been a kernel of truth there. that’s all i wanted. just that one kernel of truth.

anyway, sorry i just used your ask to vent and cry about it HAHAHA. i hope i’m explaining myself sufficiently and that my ideas are being expressed adequately and clearly. honestly, i’m having trouble fully articulating myself and why i am so insanely upset over all of this, but in a nutshell these are my thoughts. i feel like i could write an entire essay on why this decision sucks so bad LMAO. sure, his story is tragic. but it also feels really meaningless.

who knows, maybe the manga will make me eat my words, and something great will happen, and i truly hope it does!!! i hope it renders everything i’ve said here completely untrue! but we will see what happens,,,

#i just have to laugh #like at this point there’s nothing else for me to do but laugh maniacally #i’ll start crying if i don’t #also wasn’t it technically afo’s idea to form the league???????????#pretty sure tomura didn’t make that decision entirely on his own either #anyway genuinely i am so sorry i just spewed this all over ur ask LMAO #i'm just so !!!!!!!!!!!!! upset and heartbroken and furious #tomura + the league meant so much to me and this tiny change in detail makes everything feel totally meaningless #obvious disclaimer that these are my own personal opinions and i can agree to disagree with a good chunk of the fandom #i hope u have a lovely friday anon!!!#pls be safe n drink ur water okay!! <3 #inky.bb #clari gets mail

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unproduciblesmackdown · 1 year

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in the power of Noticing Things The Xth Time Around the instrumentals-imitative "doot. doot. doot. dooWAH" vocals that kick in during the second verse of centerfold? superlative

#i've heard the song a fair number of times & always enjoyed it a lot. high energy & fun; a little goofy in great ways in subj & sonic style #it is extremely correct to work w/imitative vocalizations in your music no matter what. put in more. More #(and the Vocal [doot] being on the backbeat as opposed to the Instrumental [doot]....superlative!]#and did i Mention that [verse into chorus] synth line...the drumming underneath it...#even the faux Live Performance psychout ending. a song about a Specific Ass Situation thank fucking god. deserved to chart like that.#also anytime i say Dad Rock i use it fairly neutrally lol. i'm a fan plenty of songs that would qualify; to be more specific #lmao love the instances of [no matter how many ties i hear it i cannot distinguish this sequence into phonemes in a way that corresponds to #words (or words that fit into the context in any comprehensible way)] i.e. went ''okay time to look up lyrics b/c i will always be going:#flowers What about her dress??'' & the line is apparently ''while i was thinking about her dress'' lol love when the revelations of #mishearing are funny like Ah right....and claims it's ''slipped me notes'' rather than ''slipping notes'' but doesn't change too much #being like [i cannot decipher these lyrics] is generally a more fun casual version of ''especial tendency to struggle w/audio processing''#versus like not knowing what tf someone's said in this part in a movie or smthing no matter how many times you hear it #or of course the most A Problem: not being able to parse what's being Spoken in some in-person situation #might be an occasion you can't get anything repeated; might be an occasion where for some reason/s a repeat doesn't even help....#also forever the Idiosyncratic Origin Stories behind [genuine friendships formed when you are autistic] e.g. like yeah one of my good #elementary school friendships? was one where we did parallel play; maybe never or very rarely actually Spoke; our Distracting Each Other #was punished with more of a singular intensity than i ever saw Anyone's ''distracting each other'' interactions....#took years of being at the same job (part time; so not like monday thru friday 9 to 5 Always being there at the same time anyways)#for me & a coworker to start talking & become work friends; then regular friends #their name was angel; so the menace i became when we had such a dad rock station on & these alignments occurred #though i would be engaging in singing along to things in general lol so

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swankpalanquin · 7 months

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Paradise. [by George Herbert]

I Bless thee, Lord, because I GROW Among thy trees, which in a ROW To thee both fruit and order OW.

What open force, or hidden CHARM Can blast my fruit, or bring me HARM, While the inclosure is thine ARM.

Inclose me still for fear I START. Be to me rather sharp and TART, Then let me want thy hand and ART.

When thou dost greater judgments SPARE, And with thy knife but prune and PARE, Ev’n fruitfull trees more fruitful ARE.

Such sharpnes shows the sweetest FREND: Such cuttings rather heal then REND: And such beginnings touch their END.

#i just really love this poem because the form shows the theme of the poem #also i remember for my metaphysical poets class we had to lead class discussion about a poem #and i chose this one... and like literally two weeks before i had to do it my aunt died (around thanksgiving)#and instead of just taking the rest of the semester off to deal emotionally with a super traumatic death i powered through #and i think i attached myself so much to it cos i really did think that something good would Have to come out of my suffering #cos what would be the point? 'such sharpnes shows the sweetest frend'#anyways... i've changed so much since then but i still like this poem and think its very clever #friday night activity of oversharing in the tags of stuff that's been sitting in my drafts for months...

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seraphdreams · 7 months

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ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK? | GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. the campus power outage gives your sly classmates a proper chance to get to know you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader, college au, dark content, kidnapping, use of toys, one (1) mention of “you cryin?”, vibrators / dildos, fearplay, eiffel tower position, blindfolds / restrictions, dubcon, squirting, double pen if you squint. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 4.0k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! happy friday thee 13th !! i know y’all remember me saying i wouldn’t write jjk anymore but i caved! so here’s my comeback to writing them , i literally can’t get gojo out of my head. as always, comment / reblog if you like it ! i’d muchly appreciate it ♡.

“isn’t she lovely, satoru?”

“fucking beautiful.”

a pair of crystalline-like eyes followed your bare figure down from your heaving chest to your lower abdomen where they settled on your glistening folds. you were spread open, laid against the armrest of the couch you were splayed across, hands bound taut by what felt like cheap, abrasive rope.

of the softer voice you had heard, its owner pulled out a silk piece of cloth from the pocket of his sweatpants, carefully binding it over your eyes, eluding your already subdued line of sight.

their mannerisms were recognizable, the two men who’d gotten you into that pathetic situation.

they were none other than gojo satoru and geto suguru from your foreign affairs class. prior to, you hadn’t shared much of a striking moment with them for their names to be ingrained in your memory, other than the times suguru would ask for a pencil, and gojo, a copy of the notes. it wasn’t until the start of the fall semester that you had grown closer to them.

they’d invite you to the campus’s library on account of needing you, /and only you,/ to tutor them, along with accompanying them to parties held by the school’s fraternity, and back to their dorm when things got boring — they took quite a strong liking towards you, despite your persistence on rejecting each advancement they made on you.

it wasn’t like you found them unattractive, or even unbearable. they just had more rumors than they could keep up with hanging off their reputation; rumors consisting of them switching girls much like they switch clothes simultaneous with how they weren’t particularly shy about their hookups, were among the ones you’d grown familiar with.

but, as the end of the semester grew nearer, you felt a need for excitement and a change of direction; especially in the form of gojo and geto.

“y/n?”

walking back from your overtiring night classes, the call of your name from a familiar voice whipped you straight out of fatigue. it was none other than the duo that seemed to follow you step by step, like puppies with their owner, as you turned around to catch a finer glimpse of them.

“hi,” your voice came out dulcet, and slightly hoarse. “why’re you guys out so late?”

“could be asking you the same thing.” suguru retorts, strands of long, inky black hair framing his mirthful expression. he had always been handsome to you, over six foot tall with sharp facial features that involuntarily caused him to exude an intimidating presence yet, he had a tame personality to back it up. there was a reason he was popular on campus.

he was also remarkably attentive when it came to you. suguru would make it a habit to check up on you from day to day, under the guise of morning texts and showing up to your dorm with limited edition beverages from your favorite cafe.

it wasn’t considered flirting if he was constantly referring to you as a “friend,” right?

satoru quickly came up behind him, resting his arm over the shoulder of the black haired man. he was donned in his signature style of attire, tinted glasses low on the bridge of his nose despite the sun being hours away from rising, which you had presumed was just his fashion choice. he looked better like that, anyway.

“i was just coming back from my night class. it let out early,” your words flowed airily into their ears, the tone cordial as ever.

it was the thing they loved most about you — your doe eyes, plump lips, and sexy curves that they’d fantasized about tracing every inch of with their tongues. you were too perfect, and far beyond naive. The ideal victim.

“pretty girls like you shouldn’t be out so late. it’s dangerous.” gojo held an emphasis to his last vocables, the warning you should’ve taken, yet brushed off as concern. because, of course it was. your friends were only “concerned.”

you nodded your head, lips involuntarily jutting out in a soft pout. “i know, i know.”

gojo was the rather flirtatious half of the duo, often opting to remind you of his undying attraction towards you that never seemed to get through to your glitter-filled mind. you were wrapped around his finger whether you knew it or not — you were but the final reward for him when having the others back to back failed to feed his salacious desires.

“you should swing by, though. satoru and i aren’t doing much,” geto spoke, looking at the blue-eyed man hanging off his side. “right, satoru?”

gojo perked up, a sly smirk making its way to his lips while he beckoned you closer with the movement of his fingers. “yeah, it’s friday. you deserve some time off, pretty thing.”

he wasn’t wrong. most of your time was spent dealing with school in which you barely had a moment for yourself. not to mention the fact that it was convenient, the commute to their dorm held less distance than it would’ve had you walked all the way back to yours. it worked out perfectly, for both parties involved.

with the mindless nod of your head and an “okay”, you made your way towards the two, and began to stride along in the direction of their place.

things were off about the duo, though, but not quite strange enough for you to think anything of it. the route was the same, some vacant corridor that always kissed your skin with its glacial breeze, leading to their hall, and down just a few steps was the doorway to their dorm.

as you patiently wait for geto to scan his keycard, the sensation of featherlight touch ghosting along the mast of skin that your tiny cropped top allowed to be exposed, shook you from your veil of comfort. you had come to realize it was gojo who took it upon himself to rest his hand on your lower back.

the world around you felt recognizable, yet you couldn’t shake the suspicion that deep down, something’s wrong.

the latch of the door beeped, signaling that it had been unlocked successfully, and with a sturdy hand, geto opened the door to allow for you and gojo to slip past while he kept his distance, treading leisurely behind.

satoru flipped up a light, the whole place illuminating immediately after. it looked different from the last time you came over, posters that littered every wall in the living space seemingly replaced by minute frames of artwork, all cohesive with the neutral nature of their dorm.

lit at the coffee table across from the couch where you decided to settle yourself at, was a single-wick candle that filled their air with its hints of fresh sage and amber musk.

“lemme take care of your bag,” suguru extended his arm out to you with a soft smile on his face. gojo sat down beside you, ridding himself of his glasses while you gave geto your tote. “i need to get something from my room so i’ll just put it on the bed that way you won’t have to worry.” he continued.

“thanks, sugu.” you returned his warm smile with a beam of your own.

gojo’s tongue clicked as he rolled his head back against the headrest of the couch. “marry her while you’re at it too, huh?” his tone is painted in vexation that wasn’t clear enough to distinguish between mirth or solemnity.

you heard geto chuckle as he made his way to the bedroom, waving off satoru’s comment. “wouldn’t hurt you to be nice every now and again.”

“you jealous, ‘toru?” you taunted to the ivory-haired man, relaxing further into the couch as his arm took purchase around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. “and if i am, baby? what’ll you do t’me?”

it wasn’t hard to get lost in his eyes, especially when they seemed to draw you in with that playful expression of his and kept you craving more of his attention. he’s so annoying.

you brushed off his query with an eye roll, turning your focus back to geto as he sat on the other side of you, a small box taut in his grip.

oddly enough, the soft whirring of mechanics died down along with the luminescence that filled the dorm shutting off, leaving the three of you in pitch black darkness, with only the faintest sliver of light emitted coming from the candle.

it painted an eerie picture, one that caused the pace of your heart to quicken as your body involuntarily tensed.

“oh?” suguru was the first to voice his mystification. he set the box aside, taking a haste look at gojo; which was more of a silent cue to the latter, reminding him of their true intentions.

what you assumed was geto’s hand over your thigh, diligently ran along the expanse of your lower half until its fingers curled at the hem of your bottoms. “aren’t we lucky?”

his touch was unfamiliar, nonsynonymous to you as the chivalrous suguru you knew. the sensation was weighty with lust, hungry against your skin, enough so to cause you to wonder.

“suguru, your—“

just as you were about to question the man before you, his eccentric best friend cut in.

gojo created the slightest gap of distance between your bodies, mainly to take advantage of the sight before him — geto working diligently to rid you of your garments, stripping you bare, safe for the thigh high socks struggling to contain the spill of your plush thighs.

“what? you afraid of the dark?” satoru’s teasing aided in affirming your suspicions. and the fact that you were utterly helpless, only sprung on his arousal as well. “we’ll take good care of ya.”

geto’s left hand found its place back on your thigh, more-so to spread your legs for the two. “you trust me, don’t you?” he smiled, that same smile that was painted over by an ulterior motive. he stood up, finding his knee in between your thighs, centimeters from your heat. “satoru, the rope?” he held his hand out for gojo, feeling satisfied once his request was fulfilled by his best friend, handing him the cord from the opposite end of the couch.

the words you wanted to say struggled to bubble up in your throat, rendering you speechless and anticipating. in one hand, suguru took both your wrists, tying them taut by the cable and stepping back to get a better view of your helplessness, specifically the way it leaked from your cunt and soaked into the cushions.

all the same events that explained the predicament previously mentioned.

after the unfortunate affair of being blindfolded, you felt lithe fingers drum at your clit. it was a teasing, rhythmic sensation that made it clear to you in the strongest way it could, that gojo was the one with reigns over your body now.

“our feelings are so hurt, babe,” his voice feigns offense, and although you couldn’t see him, you sensed that his signature smirk was etched over his features. and that, it was.

he toyed with your heat, running his index and middle fingers along your slit, collecting as much of your arousal as he could before sinking them into your hole. “you kept rejecting us in the past, but,” as his words trailed off, the pace at which his fingers pumped inside of you quickened. “we’re treating you fucking good, right?”

even though it was just two of his digits, the stretch that they’d allot to your hole was delicious, the tips of his fingers deliberately curling against your gummy walls, right at your g-spot which only made the shaking of your thighs worse.

“god—” you rasped, nodding your head. your heat made no effort in slowing the way it greedily sucked in his fingers. it was almost as if you were waiting for this, fantasizing how it’d be like to be one of their girls.

with every foolish thought came foolish actions.

satoru awaited your answer, speeding up to an impossible pace when you didn’t respond within his time bracket. “wanna hear you say it, baby. tell me how good I'm making you feel,” he demanded.

it felt as though your mind was going to break, the pleasurable mixture of sensations causing your head to spin and orgasm to build within you. you only allotted the fortitude for soft babbles, trying your hardest to conjure up something coherent. “f-fucking good! ‘s so fucking good!”

the pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing vigorous circles over the bundle of nerves. “attagirl,”

wet squelches were sonorous in the air, so much so, that the students inhabiting the dorms just across the hall could probably hear the filth taking place at that very moment. not that it was something new to them — it was just another satosugu friday night.

you couldn’t take anymore, your thighs threatening to close around his arm, yet his free hand kept you spread.

“i think she’s gonna cum, satoru,” geto coos, leaning down beside you while watching as gojo edges you closer and closer to sweet release. “can you squirt for us, princess? make a mess?”

before you could retort, your release rippled within you, sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. evidently, geto’s questions were answered instantaneously the moment you soaked satoru’s fingers with your essence. your chest heaved, your breath growing ragged just moments after.

if only you had the reins to see them — touch them.

gojo slipped his soiled fingers into his mouth, moaning at the saccharine flavor you left him with. if he could live off the taste of you alone, he’d know for sure that he’d die happily.

“are you really that sensitive?” suguru queried. in his hand was the concealed box, filled with toys; some that could vibrate, along with others that were clearly meant to stretch you out. he pulled out one of the thicker dildos, running it along your slit in paintstroke motions.

“do you think this could make her squirt just as fast?” his inquiry to gojo made it undoubtedly clear that they’d been plotting against you from the very start; it wasn’t just some spontaneous idea.

gojo’s focus was unwavering on the dampness seeping through his sweats, his palm rested atop his hard-on as he watched the pleasant sight of geto sinking the silicone into your hole. amidst satoru, he was concerningly gentle. he had kept one hand at your thigh, draw soft patterns while he kneeled between your legs to give himself a better view at how hungrily your cunt sucked him in. “‘toru’s always so rough, isn’t he?” suguru cooed,

you mindlessly nodded your head; it wasn’t like you agreed, but you were stuck between heaven and bliss, not knowing which felt better. whereas gojo was, albeit, impatient and loved to get the good parts, suguru was refreshing, like a cold glass of lemonade on a warm summer’s day. suguru started up a thrusting motion with the toy, building it up to a speed that had your back arching and thighs quivering under his hold.

“you’re so tight, darling. you a virgin?” his soft voice speaks out.

as you were about to respond, gojo’s large hands found themselves at your tits, kneading the flesh while his fingers tweaked at your stiffened nipples. “this virgin’s pretty hot,” satoru commented.

“n-not a virgin!” your reaction came in the form of a cry, seemingly at the increase of stimulation within your gummy walls, the tip of the silicone cock nudging so sweetly against your gspot that the nothingness of your sight morphed into white hot pleasure.

you had fallen perfectly into their trap — what would’ve taken a considerable amount of effort, and even thinking, was handed to them easily though the power of the gods; they’d be sure to thank them later for their service .. or maybe you will.

suguru removed one hand from your thigh, relocating it to dig aimlessly through the box. he was satisfied when he pulled out a tiny bullet vibrator, switching it on to the most mild level and gently circling it against your clit. “mm, i don’t think i believe you,” an amused smile etched on his features watching you squirm in his hold.

with pleasure stemming from the most sensitive parts of your body, it’s difficult to chase away the feeling of yet another, messy, mindnumbing orgasm. “geto..!” your whines fell to deaf ears, suguru hyper-focused on the way your puffy clit twitches underneath the toy. he knew you were close; anyone within a mile’s radius could tell that, and perhaps he was covertly evil, because the loss of stimulation that came soon after he pulled the toys from your heat was pure work of the devil.

he spoke up just as he switched his attention from your aching cunt to your heaving chest. “if you’re not a virgin you shouldn’t have any trouble taking us both, right?”

oh?

they were like that. you should’ve known — the two did everything together, it’d be foolish to deny the possibility of them fucking together.

your obstructed vision was finally restored when gojo took off your blindfold. he figured it’d be much better if you saw how you were about to be obliterated — and obliterated you were.

he took your hand in his, standing you both upwards.

you wobbled beside him, your legs feeling like jello from the insane amount of stimulation your cunt had to endure. “look at her, suguru. she can barely stand,” gojo teases. “and we haven’t even got to the good part yet.”

he wastes no time in freeing his hard cock from the prison that was his boxer briefs. his length was long, bulbous head flushing a soft pink as beads of pre-cum dribbled down his shaft. he gave himself a few experimental pumps before turning you around and bending you over.

without the stability to keep yourself bent completely, you crashed into geto, who was no more than an inch away from your face. you looked up, sheepishly as he rid himself of his hoodie, faced with his toned abdomen.

“we haven’t done this position in a while, huh?” there’s a cocky smirk on geto’s face. one that was his own, yet it wasn’t the suguru you’d known.

since when was he the conniving type? did all his time with gojo finally rot his brain? or were you staring at a man you truly never knew?

suguru’s hand slipped just under the waistband of his sweats to free his cock. the tip tapped harshly against your lips before he took a firmer grip at the base to smear pre-cum over your already saliva drenched lips. “open up, pretty baby.”

instinctively, you slid your tongue around the head of his cock before suckling the sensitive area, only gradually taking in more. on the other end, gojo pushed himself into your core, letting out a low hiss at how eagerly your needy cunt took him in.

“she’s fucking tight,” he groans, squeezing at the plush fat of your hips while rocking his own into you.

“don’t get greedy now, ‘toru,” geto’s voice is soft as his hand in your hair gently guides you to take him deeper, up and down his cock. it’s evident you’re pretty damn good at giving head from the adoration in his eyes when he looks down at you, silvery orbs with hearts for pupils locked onto your vacant ones.

“what a well trained whore you are.” he praised, beginning to buck his hips up into your mouth, not rigorously, but enough to prod at the back of your throat and scatter tears to your waterline.

gojo slipped his thumb into your puckered hole while his thrusts became harder, with fervor. he wasn’t one to be patient nor hold back, especially when it came to someone like you, with a pussy so tight and moans so sweet, he’d have to break you just a bit. where’s the fun in that if he doesn’t?

his balls slammed against your clit, creating a potent string of pleasure to course through your body. throbbing was pertinent within your walls, each drag of his cock along the ridges inside you posing you weak from the shocks of euphoria. a hard slap came crashing down at your ass, gojo’s sizeable hand repeated the motion occasionally to watch the way the flesh rippled.

your moans were muffled by the intrusion of cock getting fucked into your mouth. the room reverberated in an array of messy skin slapping in tandem with groans and whimpers. it was music to their ears, a song they’d want on repeat if it were possible.

“shit.. ‘m gonna cum,” geto’s dulcet tone alerted. you watched in pride at how the muscles of his lower abdomen flexed in the onset of his orgasm. his rhythmic thrusts faltered, morphing into a resonance of scattered heavy thrusts that led him closer to his orgasm until he eventually jettisoned his seed into your mouth. the taste wasn’t as bitter as you were used to, it was almost pleasant and you swallowed every drop before he pulled out ever so slowly, his chest rising and falling while his cheeks were dusted in a soft rose flush.

“you were so much better than i imagined,” his fingers wrapped around your jaw, gripping ever so gently as he bent down to messily kiss at your lips, groaning at the taste of his orgasm on your tongue.

“yeah, yeah. good for you,” gojo started up in his usual bratty tone, sounding more guttural than his typical self. “can finally cum in her without you messin’ me up.”

suguru was used to gojo’s sharp tongue, his complaint not seering as deep as it would’ve had it been their younger years.

whorish moans slipped past your lips, your balance wavering as gojo picked up speed. he was far deeper inside your plush cavern, hitting at the spongey spot with precision that had your whimpers turning into babbles. “s-sho good .. you fuck me sooo good,” gojo took amusement in your slurred speech, pulling you up by the waist until you were completely upright.

it felt as though he couldn’t reach any deeper, yet he did, the feeling spreading all over your body, you were almost 100% certain that you could feel it in your ears. tears had filled your waterline and came cascading down your cheeks before you could even establish what it was. satoru held you close, your bare back pressed against his chest. it was an overwhelming feeling, one that made you lax enough to rest your head on his shoulder.

he smirked, gripping your chin with his fingers to get a better look at you.

“you cryin’?”

that familiar sensation bubbled up within you, what had felt like your nth orgasm had come in blissful surges, his cock coated in the translucent milky essence of your release.

with haste, you were fucked through aftershocks and overstimulation as satoru chased his high.

he had stamina for days, having built it up through multiple one night stands, and yet, he wasn’t quick to pull out like his counterpart, no. there was something of love that came with cumming inside you.

the skin of your thighs clung together with a mixture of your cum and his as he pulled out of your twitching hole. you stumbled a bit, getting back grounded on your feet, the two men tucking their third legs back into their garments.

a flickering noise was sounded from the building, different from the soft flickering of the candle that was beside you. quickly, the surgance of electricity illuminated the dorm, bringing much needed light to the situation at hand. you looked down at your bound wrists before the rush of embarrassment washed over your being once you had taken your naked, used body into account.

gojo carefully whisked you both back onto the couch with you sitting on his lap. “guess our fun’s over, huh?” he pouted, unbinding the rope that rubbed uncomfortably against your wrists. you weren’t exactly sure of who his rhetorical query was aimed to, and you would’ve spoken up had your throat not have been aching from the constant whining or even the pounding of a thick cock fucking bruises in the cavern.

geto was now situated behind the couch, leaning over the both of your figures.

“over? she’s spending the night.”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — @valentinevampyr @oneofthesevensins @ryukatters @dabibreeder

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hotpinkstars · 1 month

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How about blind!reader with genshin men (you can choose) and she accidentally slipped and somehow managed to mess up genshin man’s important work and he ends up blowing up on her? Angst please and I don’t mind if you do comfort or no comfort!!

Have a great day🌚

-> blinded mistakes

synopsis -> you're blind, and you accidentally knock over a months worth of your husbands work, and it gets ruined.

warnings -> super angsty!!! brief mentions of ayato putting his hands on reader (no hitting or anything) might do a part 2 for comfort part cus i wanted to focus on the main argument w this one...

a/n -> ooooooomg i'm a sucker for these tropes i love angst so much. thx for ur request, this was sm fun to write! 💗💗

w/c -> 1.1k

-> ayato

ayato knew you were blind, and he was as understanding of it as he possibly could be.

but in times like these, where all of this work was to be turned in for city matters by next week, he had no patience for anyone.

he had been cooped up in his office for a while at a time over the past month. these documents were incredibly important to him and how the words written on the paper could impact how festivities were held to be a much easier way for himself and the city.

basically, his papers were pretty damn important. and you knew that.

you walked in his office one day with thoma helping you through the hallways. you didn’t want to trip, especially with a mug of tea in your hand, and you didn’t want to bring a cane with you.

but, thoma may have made a big mistake of leaving you in ayatos care as soon as you walked through the door. because you knew ayato was in no way shape or form able to draw himself from his work at the moment.

you were not able to use your cane to feel around the room, so without knowing where the rug was, you tripped.

and the tea you held in your hands went all over his desk, soaking his documents. the ink was splotchy and obviously ruined. you weren’t able to see what happened, but by the way ayato gasped and grabbed your wrist you knew you fucked up pretty bad.

“what the hell were you thinking???” he pulls you up forcefully and pushes you down on his couch, where you started tearing up. you weren’t necessarily used to him yelling at you, for arguments, especially over such as this, were very minimal. he always found a way to come to an understanding with you, no matter what you may have ruined.

“i’m sorry! i didn’t think thoma was just going to leave-” you were cut off by an angry voice.

“this isn’t thomas issue, y/n. it’s yours. how clueless can you be?” he brings his hands to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose before groaning loudly.

“i’m sorry that i can’t fucking see, ayato!” you yelled back, slamming your hands on the couch and leaning back. “is that what you wanted to hear?”

he shook his head, but you didn’t know that. he lays his hands on your thighs, squeezing them, before getting close to your face. you could smell his hair, the sakura shampoo he uses being evident.

“i don’t want a fucking apology, y/n. if these documents are not in by friday, there is no change for inazuma. the change you’ve been awaiting, the change i’ve been awaiting, and the change everyone of the city has been awaiting. you took that away from all of them. because you decided you weren’t going to bring your cane to make sure you don’t fucking fall!” he yells to your face, making the tears spill out.

“i’m sorry! i just wanted to bring you something to drink because i was told you were overworking yourself. gosh, how bad of me for caring for my husband,” you yelled, hands shaking in both fear and rage. you knew talking back to him this way wouldn’t lead to anything good, but you tested your luck anyways.

“remove yourself from my office. i don’t care how the fuck you do it, but i demand you leave,” he said with a low, threatening tone. you knew he was enraged, and you stumbled through the door to the hallway, where ayaka was waiting to take you back to your room.

-> wriothesley

you always felt grateful for wriothesley, and the last thing you wanted to do was to upset him. he was one of the only people to look past your disability and see your heart, see your kindness and purity.

so when you come up his office stairs very, very slowly with a cup of tea and trip on an uneven plate in the ground, ruining his documents that were incredibly important to him and the palais mermonia, especially to neuvillette, you knew you were screwed.

normally, this didn’t happen. he’d meet you down by his office door after a guard or sigewinne escorted you through the fortress, and help you walk up the stairs with the support of his arm.

he immediately slams his hands down on his table, walking over to where you were.

you felt his presence looming over you, though unable to see it, you slowly and carefully sit up. he lifts up your chin before speaking.

“why. why would you do that,” he starts in a low tone, something similar he’d use to speaking to misbehaved criminals. “i told you not to visit me today. and what do you do? the complete fucking opposite!”

you rub your eyes, trying to show no signs of weakness. you stand up, and he grabs your hands, making you feel the mess you made. ripped papers, bleeding ink. a month of progress is officially gone.

“you feel what you did? that has taken me months! and it’s ruined! if i lose my job because of this-” he starts, dropping your hands as you turn around, your bottom leaning against the desk.

“i’m sorry! i should’ve either stayed home or have a guard escort me up, i didn’t mean to ruin your progress!” you wipe more tears away, hearing him give an annoyed sigh.

“you’re right. you shouldn’t have come at all. this would never have happened if you didn’t come. do you understand how much trouble i could be in? if you didn’t visit me at all, i wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of asking for new documents, and i wouldn’t have to do hundreds of papers in three damned days!” he says, obviously distressed.

“look, i’m sorry, okay?! you can tell neuvillette and all of fontaine that i was the one who ruined everything if you want to! i’m sorry about the hassle and i’m sorry for putting more stress on you! all i wanted to do was bring you a cup of tea because you left the house stressed this morning!” you yelled back, crying at this point. “if you don’t want the embarrassment, then you can embarrass me. it seems like i’ve done enough to deserve it, so do it! tell the whole world what i did wrong, and how horrible of a wife i was!”

you called a guard in to escort you out, and that was the last wriothesley had seen of you that day.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin x reader angst #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley angst #ayato #kamisato #kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato angst #ayato x reader #kamisato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader angst

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stories-of-the-multiverse · 1 year

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“Grace stormed down from the second floor like a bat outta hell to tear into them. Startled the fuck outta me-”

#Dash Commentary #Pico #Verse: Soft #Friday Night Funkin' CW #Pico's School CW #NewGrounds CW #I would tag this as some form of crack but #tbh it's not crack to me #Grace was there in week five she was among the crowd on the second floor #So no one can change my mind that this happened-

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cuz-reasons · 1 year

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If I'm this excited for pokemon on friday what am I gonna be like for zelda in may

#whats that one post?#stimming isnt enough i need to explode #thats me since last friday #im so fuckin excited holy shit #also i dont get the ppl saying the paradox forms for scar look better than the ones for vi #i love those funky dudes in vi #none of these leaks have made me change my mind of anything theyre reinforcing my decision #but fuckin mays gonna roll around and i think i will explode holy shit #i have already warned my friends that i will be the most insufferable this weekend and the weekend totk comes out #aaaaaaa #enjoy my midnight ramblings

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afeelgoodblog · 14 days

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The Best News of Last Week

1. A branch of the flu family tree has died and won't be included in future US vaccines

A type of flu virus that used to sicken people every year hasn't been spotted anywhere on Earth since March 2020. As such, experts have advised that the apparently extinct viruses be removed from next year's flu vaccines.

The now-extinct viruses were a branch of the influenza B family tree known as the Yamagata lineage. Scientists first reported the apparent disappearance of Yamagata viruses in 2021.

2. Hospitals must obtain written consent for pelvic and similar exams, the federal government says

Hospitals must obtain written informed consent from patients before subjecting them to pelvic exams and exams of other sensitive areas — especially if an exam will be done while the patient is unconscious, the federal government said Monday.

New guidance from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services now requires consent for breast, pelvic, prostate and rectal exams for “educational and training purposes” performed by medical students, nurse practitioners or physician assistants.

3. Germany approves new law that will allow adults to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption and store up to 50 grams at home.

Germany's upper house, the Bundesrat, cleared the way to partially legalize cannabis on Friday. Adults aged 18 and over will be allowed to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption.

4. Tick-killing pill shows promising results in human trial | Should it pan out, the pill would be a new weapon against Lyme disease.

Tarsus Pharmaceuticals is developing a pill for humans that could provide protection against the tick-borne disease for several weeks at a time. In February, the Irvine, California–based biotech company announced results from a small, early-stage trial showing that 24 hours after taking the drug, it can kill ticks on people, with the effects lasting for up to 30 days.

5. Thailand moves to legalise same-sex marriage

Thailand has taken a historic step closer to marriage equality after the lower house passed a bill giving legal recognition to same-sex marriage.

It still needs approval from the Senate and royal endorsement to become law but it is widely expected to happen by the end of 2024, making Thailand the only South East Asian country to recognise same-sex unions.

6. French Revolution: Cyclists Now Outnumber Motorists In Paris

Official measurements have found that Paris is rapidly becoming a city of transportation cyclists. In the suburbs, where public transit is less dense, transport by car was found to be the main form of mobility. But for journeys from the outskirts of Paris to the center, the number of cyclists now far exceeds the number of motorists, a huge change from just five years ago.

7. 'Miracle' operation reverses blindness in three-year-old girl giving her 'promising' future

A three year old with a genetic condition that causes blindness is doing incredibly well after unique pioneering operation to restore her sight.

The UK is the only country performing keyhole eye surgery to inject healthy copies of a gene into sufferers’ eyes. It is being used to reverse blindness in children born with a rare condition which means they can only distinguish between light and dark. And it has given little Khadijah Chaudhry, born with Leber congenital amaurosis-4, a chance at seeing properly again.

---

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

#best news of last week

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findmeabowlofundertale · 2 months

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Instead of having anything interesting for the very first Form Change Friday, have this very unfinished scribble of these two being absolute dorks

They’re talking about (and testing) how Cool™️ (sharp) Asteri can make herself look.

#she has yet to become 100% spiky #so they don’t know but #I mean cmon if you were a shapeshifter wouldn’t YOU want to mess around with the options?#for fun?#they were having a whole discussion about it hence Gaster’s enthusiasm #seeker draws #(barely)#seeker oc #asteri #⁂ gaster #seeker gaster #⁂ art #⁂#form change friday #I know it’s not as catchy but #I’m giving it a shot

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redbuddi · 5 months

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Today at GameStop:

I confirmed my suspicions that I was being underpaid (my male coworker was hired for more than me)

I was told I could not sit while having to organize numerous games on low shelves due to it "taking up too much space" (crouching and sitting take up the same amount of space)

Got my nametag changed to my real name

I was only able to do so after making a stink about it

I found out that the reason my manager made me wear a nametag with my deadname yesterday was because he couldn't be bothered to make a five minute phone call with HR, or at least let me not wear the tag until I could put my real name on it

I confirmed my suspicion that we do not make commission for selling hundred dollar consoles to people, the only commission we do make is for selling people issues of Game Informer (one dollar per issue sold)

I hid every copy of Hogwarts Legacy behind games no one will ever buy (mostly Gollum)

I was constantly made to run around the store organizing large objects or large piles of objects, I couldn't even take a break in the form of standing still and ringing customers up because my manager still has not properly put me in the system so I can't log in to the register

I was asked numerous questions by customers that I did not know the answer to, all while I was very obviously in the middle of something (carrying large objects or large piles of objects)

I found out that the closest thing we'll be getting to a bonus for working Black Friday is a free sweater which we will have to wear the entire shift (this job gets very sweaty)

I had to sneak off to use the bathroom because the bathroom in the store is full of boxes of Pokemon cards

My Manager was very smelly for some reason

I got away with leaving thirty minutes early cause I'm not officially on the schedule yet

#reminder the subscribing to my comic brings me closer to being able to make it my job #and also i sell commissions

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chosopie · 1 month

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SUGAR BABY - TOJI FUSHIGURO

Toji loves a woman with big bills.

You came from a family of lawyers who owned a big law firm in the city. Your whole life had already been set the moment you were born, and like the rest of your family, you became a lawyer who could easily earn six figures like it just falls from the tree in your huge backyard.

Currently, you were still in law school when you met Toji from a bar.

“Where do you think you’re going, bastard?” The security yelled, using all his efforts to push the big muscular man away from the door. “If you’re gonna drink here, make sure you can pay the fucking bill.”

“I’ll handle it,” you tapped the security guard, waving your card at him. “It’s on me.” You winked at Toji, and in return, he flashed you a wide and cunning grin.

“Damn, lady. Do I know you?” Toji asked.

“No, but let’s change that.” You smile back.

Every Friday night, you’d meet up at the same bar and you’d always treat him to drinks and food. As you both grew closer, you’d meet up at other places like the mall so he could watch you shop.

“Do you want anything?” You’d ask while your eyes remained fixated at the handbag you were checking.

“Why do you ask? Are you going to buy me something?”

“Yes. Just show me,” you nonchalantly said like you could buy the whole store with the wave of your black card.

Toji’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open. “Anything?”

“Yep.”

In the end, you ended up buying a Rolex for him.

“How could I ever repay you?” Toji thought.

There was one thing Toji was proud to offer you—his cock. He was very much aware of how much he was packing. He had a generous length and girth that would surely satisfy you once you get used to its size. It was a perfect gift for you.

His offer was to let you use his dick to get off. He became your sex toy or personal dildo. You’d ride him at your own pace while all he did was watch in amusement. He would occasionally run his big calloused hands over your waist or help you go up and down on his cock when your thighs start shaking form exhaustion.

“You like being used like this?” You teased.

“Yeah, so when am I getting my car?” He groaned as you rode him at a slow and agonizing pace.

“I already told you, the newest model will be coming next week. Be patient or I’m not letting you cum anymore,” you warned him through gritted teeth. You hissed at the feeling of him stretching you out.

Other times, he’d pester you in a special way in order to get what he wanted. His face would be buried between your thighs, tongue slowly lapping at your wet cunt like a kitten.

“Baby… my co-worker Shiu has these new Ferragamo’s. Can I get those too?” He lowly said, his breath fanning your pussy.

“If you can make me cum four times then, maybe I’d let you.”

With his skilled tongue, he was able to fulfill his task, leaving you breathless and shaking.

When you would come home stressed from work, you’d let him fuck you and do all the work. Toji was a person-pleaser when it came to you. It wasn’t just for the gifts and money, but also because he was a sucker for your sweet praises.

“This fine?” He picks a medium and consistent pace, giving you room to ease up around his dick.

“Mhm,” you’d hum in response, your eyes closed as you quickly fell into a relaxed and satisfied state.

Toji was quite the company. He was a pretty thing to look at and his dick worked magic for you. You were definitely going to keep him around for a long time. After all, he was quite the investment.

#rev.writes #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji smut #jjk toji

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mostlysignssomeportents · 8 months

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How plausible sentence generators are changing the bullshit wars

This Friday (September 8) at 10hPT/17hUK, I'm livestreaming "How To Dismantle the Internet" with Intelligence Squared.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

In my latest Locus Magazine column, "Plausible Sentence Generators," I describe how I unwittingly came to use – and even be impressed by – an AI chatbot – and what this means for a specialized, highly salient form of writing, namely, "bullshit":

https://locusmag.com/2023/09/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-plausible-sentence-generators/

Here's what happened: I got stranded at JFK due to heavy weather and an air-traffic control tower fire that locked down every westbound flight on the east coast. The American Airlines agent told me to try going standby the next morning, and advised that if I booked a hotel and saved my taxi receipts, I would get reimbursed when I got home to LA.

But when I got home, the airline's reps told me they would absolutely not reimburse me, that this was their policy, and they didn't care that their representative had promised they'd make me whole. This was so frustrating that I decided to take the airline to small claims court: I'm no lawyer, but I know that a contract takes place when an offer is made and accepted, and so I had a contract, and AA was violating it, and stiffing me for over $400.

The problem was that I didn't know anything about filing a small claim. I've been ripped off by lots of large American businesses, but none had pissed me off enough to sue – until American broke its contract with me.

So I googled it. I found a website that gave step-by-step instructions, starting with sending a "final demand" letter to the airline's business office. They offered to help me write the letter, and so I clicked and I typed and I wrote a pretty stern legal letter.

Now, I'm not a lawyer, but I have worked for a campaigning law-firm for over 20 years, and I've spent the same amount of time writing about the sins of the rich and powerful. I've seen a lot of threats, both those received by our clients and sent to me.

I've been threatened by everyone from Gwyneth Paltrow to Ralph Lauren to the Sacklers. I've been threatened by lawyers representing the billionaire who owned NSOG roup, the notoroious cyber arms-dealer. I even got a series of vicious, baseless threats from lawyers representing LAX's private terminal.

So I know a thing or two about writing a legal threat! I gave it a good effort and then submitted the form, and got a message asking me to wait for a minute or two. A couple minutes later, the form returned a new version of my letter, expanded and augmented. Now, my letter was a little scary – but this version was bowel-looseningly terrifying.

I had unwittingly used a chatbot. The website had fed my letter to a Large Language Model, likely ChatGPT, with a prompt like, "Make this into an aggressive, bullying legal threat." The chatbot obliged.

I don't think much of LLMs. After you get past the initial party trick of getting something like, "instructions for removing a grilled-cheese sandwich from a VCR in the style of the King James Bible," the novelty wears thin:

https://www.emergentmind.com/posts/write-a-biblical-verse-in-the-style-of-the-king-james

Yes, science fiction magazines are inundated with LLM-written short stories, but the problem there isn't merely the overwhelming quantity of machine-generated stories – it's also that they suck. They're bad stories:

https://www.npr.org/2023/02/24/1159286436/ai-chatbot-chatgpt-magazine-clarkesworld-artificial-intelligence

LLMs generate naturalistic prose. This is an impressive technical feat, and the details are genuinely fascinating. This series by Ben Levinstein is a must-read peek under the hood:

https://benlevinstein.substack.com/p/how-to-think-about-large-language

But "naturalistic prose" isn't necessarily good prose. A lot of naturalistic language is awful. In particular, legal documents are fucking terrible. Lawyers affect a stilted, stylized language that is both officious and obfuscated.

The LLM I accidentally used to rewrite my legal threat transmuted my own prose into something that reads like it was written by a $600/hour paralegal working for a $1500/hour partner at a white-show law-firm. As such, it sends a signal: "The person who commissioned this letter is so angry at you that they are willing to spend $600 to get you to cough up the $400 you owe them. Moreover, they are so well-resourced that they can afford to pursue this claim beyond any rational economic basis."

Let's be clear here: these kinds of lawyer letters aren't good writing; they're a highly specific form of bad writing. The point of this letter isn't to parse the text, it's to send a signal. If the letter was well-written, it wouldn't send the right signal. For the letter to work, it has to read like it was written by someone whose prose-sense was irreparably damaged by a legal education.

Here's the thing: the fact that an LLM can manufacture this once-expensive signal for free means that the signal's meaning will shortly change, forever. Once companies realize that this kind of letter can be generated on demand, it will cease to mean, "You are dealing with a furious, vindictive rich person." It will come to mean, "You are dealing with someone who knows how to type 'generate legal threat' into a search box."

Legal threat letters are in a class of language formally called "bullshit":

https://press.princeton.edu/books/hardcover/9780691122946/on-bullshit

LLMs may not be good at generating science fiction short stories, but they're excellent at generating bullshit. For example, a university prof friend of mine admits that they and all their colleagues are now writing grad student recommendation letters by feeding a few bullet points to an LLM, which inflates them with bullshit, adding puffery to swell those bullet points into lengthy paragraphs.

Naturally, the next stage is that profs on the receiving end of these recommendation letters will ask another LLM to summarize them by reducing them to a few bullet points. This is next-level bullshit: a few easily-grasped points are turned into a florid sheet of nonsense, which is then reconverted into a few bullet-points again, though these may only be tangentially related to the original.

What comes next? The reference letter becomes a useless signal. It goes from being a thing that a prof has to really believe in you to produce, whose mere existence is thus significant, to a thing that can be produced with the click of a button, and then it signifies nothing.

We've been through this before. It used to be that sending a letter to your legislative representative meant a lot. Then, automated internet forms produced by activists like me made it far easier to send those letters and lawmakers stopped taking them so seriously. So we created automatic dialers to let you phone your lawmakers, this being another once-powerful signal. Lowering the cost of making the phone call inevitably made the phone call mean less.

Today, we are in a war over signals. The actors and writers who've trudged through the heat-dome up and down the sidewalks in front of the studios in my neighborhood are sending a very powerful signal. The fact that they're fighting to prevent their industry from being enshittified by plausible sentence generators that can produce bullshit on demand makes their fight especially important.

Chatbots are the nuclear weapons of the bullshit wars. Want to generate 2,000 words of nonsense about "the first time I ate an egg," to run overtop of an omelet recipe you're hoping to make the number one Google result? ChatGPT has you covered. Want to generate fake complaints or fake positive reviews? The Stochastic Parrot will produce 'em all day long.

As I wrote for Locus: "None of this prose is good, none of it is really socially useful, but there’s demand for it. Ironically, the more bullshit there is, the more bullshit filters there are, and this requires still more bullshit to overcome it."

Meanwhile, AA still hasn't answered my letter, and to be honest, I'm so sick of bullshit I can't be bothered to sue them anymore. I suppose that's what they were counting on.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/07/govern-yourself-accordingly/#robolawyers

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #chatbots #plausible sentence generators #robot lawyers #robolawyers #ai #ml #machine learning #artificial intelligence #stochastic parrots #bullshit #bullshit generators #the bullshit wars #llms #large language models #writing #Ben Levinstein

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distantdarlings · 5 months

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INDULGE // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details, but reader is wearing a skirt)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* You've been working on an insane amount of schoolwork all evening and just want to lie down with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend has been doing the same but wonders if you might be interested in something else.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Body worship, oral sex, (perf. on reader), no protection used - piv, brief orgasm denial, language (also not proofread, sorry), very brief overstimulation, dom!Theo

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Sinner - Teflon Sega

---

The flame in the corner of your eye extinguished itself with a slight sizzle. You jumped slightly as it interrupted the constant silence that had stretched itself over the library.

You sighed and rubbed your fingers over your eyes, attempting to massage some of the aches. You seriously thought you would keel over if you looked at one more chart or paragraph. Your head tilted to the left and the right, feeling the pops that echoed in your ears.

The books and parchment laid out before you would just have to wait until tomorrow morning. You could barely keep your head up. You gathered everything together and slid it all into your bag, giving a polite nod to the librarian on the way out.

You glanced down at your watch, expecting it to be well after midnight—which it was. Did the librarian ever sleep? You wondered if she had some special draught to keep her awake for long periods. If she did, you needed some of it.

The halls were completely empty, as they generally were at this time of night. You’d gotten special permission from Professor Snape to stay in the library past curfew for the next weeks. You were balancing quite a few different projects and extracurriculars and, on top of all of that, had accepted a side assignment from Professor Snape, studying the side effects of the Venomous Tentacula’s venom and all that happened to the body before it eventually died from it.

It was fascinating and you felt content with your current workload, but you were just tired tonight. It was Friday, and it had been a long, long week. Right now, you just wanted to stop in with your boyfriend to see how he was doing. He should be asleep, but you know he likely wasn’t.

Finally, you arrived before the Slytherin common room, spoke the password, and slipped through the entrance. A few students remained in the common room, sketching or scanning a book, but none seemed particularly concerned when you came through.

You made for your dorm so you could set your things down and quickly change into your pajamas. The best thing about the dorm rooms at Hogwarts was the beds—no challenge. They were the most comfortable thing you’d ever laid on with silky, feather pillows, two thick comforters, and a large, form-fitted mattress you half wished to be buried on when you died. Thinking about them now had you picking up the pace.

You slipped down the long hallway, hearing the soft echo of your shoes hitting the floor with every increasingly rapid step. The books in your hands were becoming more of a burden than they initially were. You readjusted the way they were placed against you to bear your arms some rest.

Soon enough, the dorm entrance stood before you, bidding you a good evening and some sweet dreams. You pushed through the door and set your things down on the bed. Fortunately, yours was the one right next to the threshold, and you could just lay your things down as soon as you got in. You were considering not even taking a shower tonight.

You moved to the foot of the bed and grabbed your folded pajamas. It was awfully quiet in here, but you figured most of your friends were out for the weekend. It was no concern of yours; more reason to take an early night.

You slipped out of your day shoes and unfolded your pajamas, preparing to put them on. Plans, schedules, and your to-do list for the next day swirled through your head as you worked the buttons down your shirt. You figured if you knocked out all of your other assignments, you could spend the rest of the morning focusing on Snape’s project. That was probably the best plan of action…your hands allowed your shirt to slip down your arms. You grabbed your tank top and began to pull it over your head.

Warm hands suddenly became familiar with your sides. A yelp escaped you as you backed away against your bed. Standing before you was a quietly laughing Theo holding his stomach. The laughter slowly brought tears to his eyes. You crossed your arms and squinted your eyes at him. Dick.

“Theo! Why did you do that?” you scolded, smacking him across the arm. “I nearly jumped out of my skin.”

“I know, I know, it was hilarious,” he laughed, wiping his eyes with his fingertips. You didn’t smile.

“Do I look like I’m laughing, you jerk?” you asked, tapping your finger impatiently against your crossed arms.

“I’m sorry, baby, I just wanted to come see you,” he smiled, his laughter finally dying. His hands slowly slid back around your sides, massaging the skin through your tank top. The meaning behind his smile seemed to change slightly.

He leaned against the bed and bumped his nose gently against yours, causing chills to spread down your arms and legs. He leaned in closely and pressed a gentle kiss to the small center of your neck and shoulder. You tilted your head a bit to allow him easier access. He chuckled darkly and pulled away.

“But if you’re mad at me, I totally understand,” he said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’ll just have to head back to my dorm…” He began to walk towards the door, shrugging his shoulders. You rolled your eyes at him, a smile sneaking its way onto your face. You wondered how long he would lay into this role. He did this all the time.

“Are you sure you didn’t have an important reason for coming over?” you teased.

“Nope, I’m just going to head back to my dorm…where it’s lonely…and cold…,” he sighed sadly. You tilted your head back and laughed at his award-winning acting skills before pushing yourself off the bed and walking over to him. You slid your hands around his waist, and he came to a stop, reveling in the feeling of your hands on him. You pressed yourself to his back, giving a sweetened hug from behind. His heartbeat seemed to slow as if you calmed him down.

Your hands around him traced their fingers over his stomach and traveled down to his hips. When you ghosted your fingers just below his belt, his breath hitched. You smirked at his reaction, hearing his heartbeat intensify. Your hands pulled away just as they were about to make contact with his core, you turned away and began walking back to your bed, ignoring the groan that came from him. It took him only a moment to swallow his pride and walk back over to you, catching your arm just as you were about to lay down.

He spun you against him and captured your lips with his, encasing your face between his large hands. His lips worked hastily against yours, cupping your bottom lip with his and pinching it between his teeth. You sighed into his mouth at the sudden shock of pain.

He walked you just a step back before you were both falling to the bed, never breaking away from the other. Kissing Theo was like coming up for air after being trapped underwater. His lips always moved against yours like a starved man, begging for a taste of you, never acquiring enough. His hands held you in place and his lips split you down the middle, leaving no room or need for air. He was all you needed, your only necessity. You could stay here forever, pressed against his body with no escape.

He parted from you and worked his lips down your neck. Before he continued down, he pulled the tank top from over your head and gently became acquainted with your chest. His lips pressed slowly against your skin, massaging the weight of it with his hands. His tongue skirted gently across the peak of each side, watching the way your lips parted at every swirl of the muscle. He touched you everywhere, and you always let him.

His fingers traced delicately down your ribs, sliding between them like a trap. He left nothing unkissed, untouched, unloved. His tongue worked absolute miracles over your stomach, each kiss lighting a scorching fire between your legs.

“You are so, so beautiful,” he breathed against your stomach. You sighed as his tongue traced one gentle swipe up the curve of your abdomen. Your fingers were shaking as they raised to slide into his hair, begging him to lower his head between your thighs. He hid a smirk at your desperation, loving the feeling he gave you.

Whenever your eyes would roll to the back of your head or your beautiful lips would part, he felt like royalty. If there was anything he was put on this Earth to do, he was sure it was to worship every inch of you and to pray to the sweet breadth of heaven between your legs. There was never a time he wasn’t thinking of you, thinking of fucking you, thinking of watching your every move. He wanted to bottle your every orgasm and bathe in it.

He flipped your skirt up and over your legs, not caring to take it off. You wore no tights today. All that was before him were your barren legs waiting to be parted by him. He slid his hands beneath your thighs and set them over his shoulders, adoring the weight of them against him. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the insides of your thighs, slowly working to his final destination. His thumb reached out and barely guided itself over the cover of your undergarments, already dampened. You gasped sharply. He wanted to destroy you.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered quietly. “Don’t tease.” He did not intend to.

The tips of his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down, admiring the way your core pulsated gently beneath his gaze. Every exhale that escaped his lips sent a shudder through your body. He was close enough to smell your scent wafting all around him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he breathed in his one desire, the anticipation of the moment nearly taking him over. Beneath his belt, the core of his body ached so sweetly, begging for anything. He could not wait any longer.

He placed a soft kiss to you, feeling the way you jolted at the small touch. He kissed you once more, feeling the way your wetness collected on his lips. His tongue darted out against you, sliding between every inch of skin and against his lips, tasting every drop. You were like a dark wine tainting his tongue, shooting straight to his brain and cock. Every time he did this, his head would luxuriate in your taste and smell. Dulcet moans would leave his lips and echo against you. His hips would begin to move against the bed, rolling against the soft material. His self-indulgence in you and against himself would become too much for him. If he could never do this again, he’d find no reason to walk this Earth.

Your fingers clenched tightly in his hair and breathy, perfect moans spilled from your lips. Desperate whimpers of his name, begging for more, only urged him on more. He would never stop as long as you wouldn’t stop him. He didn’t need to eat, need to sleep, need anything other than you.

His fingers, previously holding your thighs apart so he could have full access to you, pulled between him and you. They slowly pushed through the expanse of your wetness, drawing a new kind of moan from you. Each digit circled around the folds of your skin, allowing your essence to seep between them and spill over his hands.

“Please, Theo,” you begged, your eyes making contact with his, “I need them now.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled his hand to his face and ran a long, begging tongue up the palm of his hand. Your lips were parted in a deep, flushed moan as he slid them into you with little to no resistance. Nothing about your current condition was going to push him away. You only wanted more of him. Your head laid back against the pillow, your fingers curling tightly against his scalp once more.

His tongue found you again, matching the rhythm of his fingers. You wouldn’t last much longer, and he knew this too. Every time you came close to your end, your thighs began to shake. He knew the sight so well. As soon as the smooth skin there began to shudder, he knew you were getting close. He pulled away from you.

You nearly screamed in frustration, severely feeling the loss of him. He smirked evilly, watching you squirm against the mattress, attempting to push the tip of your climax over the edge. His hands slammed onto your hips, pushing you into the mattress. A small yelp left you at the action.

“I don’t think so, darling,” Theo whispered, his tongue skirting one more hot swipe over your core. You moaned loudly, bucking your hips against his lips. “Don’t I get anything?”

“Just shut up and do something, anything, I’m so fucking close,” you whined. He complied quickly, undoing his belt and sliding it from his pants. Your hands slid up and down your sides, trying to hold your finish where it currently rested, just on its edge.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he said lowly. Your eyes found his. His pupils were nearly blown across his whole eye with only the smallest amount of blue showing through. They were hardened and focused in on your core, watching intently as your legs slowly slid apart. The way he watched you and clenched his jaw, you felt like prey.

He knelt between your thighs, running soft fingers over the tops of them, caressing meaningless shapes. His tongue darted out over his lips and his eyes fluttered shut as he slowly slid into you. His lips parted as an angelic moan pushed from his mouth. His breathless voice slid across his swollen lips as he began to roll his hips into you.

“So good, baby,” he whispered, his hands tucked tightly beneath your ass, driving you against him. Every time he pulled out and pushed back in, he hit a new spot inside of you. The sounds of earlier were lost in the air. Nothing was able to come out of you but soft whines at every thrust. His fingertips dug into your skin, bruising the supple flesh there.

“You’re so warm, so perfect,” he breathed, his pace quickening. “You were made for me, made for this dick.” Your heart fluttered at his words. Ever the gentleman.

His hips were pushing into you so hard your whole body jolted up. Your head was inches from hitting the headboard, but you couldn't care less. The only thing you could focus on right now was the feeling of him inside you, claiming every ridge and valley as his own. Every inch of your body was branded with his name, burning wildly beneath his touch. His lips, his fingers, his everything had pulled you over in on yourself more times than you could count, yet it never got old. The only thing that made you feel truly alive was his touch.

One last shove from his hips and your finish was spilling over his hips and the sheets. Stars were flashing across your ceiling and blood was rising to your head. The letters of his name were lost on your ears and carved into the flesh of his back, bleeding beneath your fingernails. He was groaning into your neck as your entire body tightened around him, pulling him toward his own climax.

He groaned suddenly and inhaled sharply, preparing to pull out of you. His hands gripped your hips, and he began to pull away when you tightened your legs around his back and pushed him back into the hilt. The moan that left him could have shattered the stained glass. You could feel his release spilling into you, so slow and warm, and every pulse of him within you pushed a deepened moan against your chest. You released his hips and allowed him to pull back a bit before you shoved him back in one more time. A pitiful whine slipped from his lips at the bit of overstimulation.

The arms on either side of your head gave out as he collapsed against your body, his head resting against your chest. He sighed contently.

“How was that?”

He scoffed, lips pressed messily against your skin. “‘How was that?’ they ask,” he chuckles sleepily, “yeah, that was pretty good.”

“Only pretty good?” you ask, faking offense.

“That was the most perfect sex I’ve ever had, but—then again—I do say that every time we have sex,” he laughed. Just before he fell into a pleasantly deep sleep, you brushed his hair from his forehead and kissed him there, though you didn’t have much time before light snores echoed in the room.

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