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#maybe this is pretentious as hell
oceanwithouthermoon · 6 months
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remember how when saiki was crushing on satou and wanted to talk to him, instead of yk.. actually talking to him, he found out all of his interests and displayed his own interest in those things in front of him to try to get him to notice him??
yeah, now imagine him doing that when he has a crush on anyone else..
hes such a silly and awkward teenage boy i love it, like buddy you CAN just talk to your crush, you dont have to try to get him to "notice you.." but hes too silly and awkward so thats like the most he would ever do and would still probably think that that counts as flirting
im just... wondering about how saikis terrible silly flirting tactics would translate if his crush was on one of his FRIENDS.. like someone he could actually be around and would see and talk to him.. would he just like be trying to impress them ?? moving toward them more ?? adopting more of their mannerisms and interests maybe ??
imagine that like EVERYONE in the group would notice it, but it wouldn't be like "omg saiki is flirting" it would be more like "omg why is saiki being extra awkward and talking more" because hes so painfully unclear about his intentions but hes usually so quiet and unassuming that this would be such a stark contrast to his usual behavior...
#hey buddy maybe you should just idk maybe TALK TO UR CRUSH#saiki k#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo#tagging ships this would work with#kubosai#<-obviously my favorite so this is what i was thinking the whole time#that would be so cute everyone shut up#but he would prob accidentally end up for real flirting with kubo since hes trying to pertain to what he likes and he loves romance#saisai#<-i actually also like thid one a LOT for this scenario it would be so silly#saikis god complex accidentally starts manifesting visibly a little more since he's imitating pretentious rich boy#saikai#saikaido#saidou#<-saikis dark reunion jokes accidentally become so frequent he starts saying them out loud by mistake and it's embarrassing as hell#nensai#<-not actually totally sure how this would work in this situation but idk maybe hes more open to having ramen every day#and trying to get over his bug fear omg that would be so funny#imagine him starting with like one bug at a time so he starts with the least scary ones like butterflies and ladybugs#but by the end of it hes prob only a little more okay with things like butterflies+stick bugs+caterpillars cuz they move slow+are easy 2 see#haisai#<-ohohoh haisai he would prob join a club+always be trying to prove to him he takes things seriously#mostly schoolwork but in gym/sports he would always be pretending to enthusiastically participate and break a sweat lol#merasai#<-he takes up baking/cooking as a hobby and is always bringing extra food to school and acting like it was an accident and giving it to her#going to her workplaces and pretending he didnt know/forgot she works there and 'accidentally' ordering an extra portion for her every time#saikechi#<-he already knows a lot about random stuff but he takes an interest in saying his silly facts out loud and sounding like a nerd#meows post
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lunar-years · 2 months
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I do think the notion that the song titles are too “corny” for the theme/vibe of the album is a bit funny because like. Are we taking the album title that seriously? Because if so, I do not think we should be. Like, as soon as the reminder came up about Joe’s “tortured men’s club” text chat I was like. Ohhh. Anyway, for what it’s worth, I think she’s making fun of him. And also, in a way, making fun of herself. Do I think she considers herself a “tortured Poet”? Yes absolutely but like. Only ironically! I think she’s making fun of the notion that you have to be tortured to produce worthy art, that genius is the byproduct of great anguish. And also making fun of the version of herself that sort of maybe once kind of believed that, too. I think the vibe of the album is going to be her “poetry” (music) spurning from a place of freedom rather than confinement. The love was torture but it was also magic and now it’s over and that torture, too for a little while, but only a little because it’s also magic, and it’s also a million other things—just like her and art x
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the-valiant-valkyrie · 3 months
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i think solaris has nearly gotten herself 'fired' for a myriad of different reasons- with plenty of her personal offenses being what zor would consider severely insubordinate. but i think the stupidest thing she was almost nearly punished for was getting into a vicious debate with the doctor because they had the gall to assume dark chocolate was better than milk
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gutsfics · 1 month
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tbh i think that the "is ai generated content art" argument is roughly the same as "is Duchamp's Fountain art". i think that the argument of if its art is what makes it art, because it is invoking some kind of feeling. starting a conversation. if that makes sense?
that being said, absolutely there is a time and a place for it (ie not replacing the work of paid artists). and it should only be trained on artsts who have consented to it.
i dont want to read fiction made by ai bc if you didn't take the time to write something, why should i take the time to read it? and for non fiction, it'll be riddled with incorrect facts because an algorithm "decided" that this word is the most likely to go next in the sentence based on what it's database says, even if its factually incorrect.
one of my favorite pieces of art is an ai image that was sent to a company that makes paint-by-numbers, and then filled out by a person. the artist, tumblr user rigatonidanza, asks "is this art? at what point does it become art? can it never be art because its ai, or because its paint by numbers? is it art because it elicits a response from the viewer?"
the point of art is to make you think, and to make you feel. does it stop being art if its not made by human hands, the way algorithmically generated images are? is it not art if its something mass produced, made for intentions other than what the artist uses it for, like Fountain? even if looking at it makes you feel something? anything? even if that "something" is a negative emotion?
all that said. if you use generative algorithms as an excuse to not pay real artists, you are a human tar pit. may you always immedeatly stub your toe after it stops hurting from the last time you stubbed it.
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cryptojuice · 5 months
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take this with a grain of extremely drunk but at this point I'm my journey? now? I'm like literally the idealest person in the world and I think everyone else has something wrong with them
#is it autism? is that why people don't just fuckin communicate with me?#my autistic superpower is im TOO GOOD at communicating and everyone else is behind me.#im already in the 'so how do we meet our needs' stage when other people are in the avoidance stage or the self awareness stage#idk. idk. fuckin tired of it#tired of games tired of excuses tired of IMMATURITY#tired of being more grown than people in their mid 30s. tired of being more grown than my parents in their mid 50s#tired of being the ONLY person i know ACTIVELY working on their flaws and making progress#maybe others are just working on things i dont notice and maybe others dont notice what im doing. but idk. people have seemed to notice.#is it because im becoming buddhist? am i like more fucking enlightened or something?#i would hope that wouldn't be the only thing causing such a disconnect cause that sounds fucking pretentious#im drunk cause i was upset. remember yhis if you're reading these tags#im not upset anymore cause i got drunk. and made a really good omelette#but yeah i feel so different from other people. so much better and also so much worse. hashtag paradox#best communicator deepest thinker most compassionate soul. also most horrible awful sinner#↑obsessed with the concept of sin in a fascinating way for someone who doesn't Believe in it#yes im a sinner yes im a real sex demon from hell no hell doesnt exist yes reincarnation is real yes i am buddhist yes i believe in ghosts.#i contain multitudes#anyways#i was supposed to *** ** ***** *** today and i didn't so I got grumpy i guess#i really need to practice the principles of detachment#I've gotten a lot better at patience and calm and meditation but i still care so much about inconsequential shit. enough to drink it away i#i should sleep i was trying to fix my sleep schedule the last two nights#but i don't want to. i want to drink and have fun and maybe cry#we'll see#doubt anyone is gonna read this it's mostly for me#gonna tag this#therapy#so i can find it if i need it#i just miss my girlfriend man. but she stood me up again without a word and it's disrespectful#and i know I'm gonna forgive her
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musicalchaos07 · 3 months
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Dealer by Lana Del Rey is in fact a Jonathan Byers song but we're not ready for that conversation
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spider-man-2o99 · 11 months
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“damn you're such a pretentious bitch you must get SO upset whenever you're wrong about stuff huh” INCORRECT i actually love being Wrong because my gut instincts about Everything Ever are deeply cynical and bitter after a childhood where they Needed To Be to Survive and im actively working to unlearn that shit now that i am safe and an adult. you fucking fool. being Wrong is a part of learning and growing, and anybody who insists that they are Never Wrong, Ever, and who refuses to own up to Being Wrong when it inevitably Happens really doesn't deserve your trust at all.
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around-your-throat · 11 months
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YOURE SO RIGHT SAYING THEYRE NOT POP PUNK I HATE SEEING MCR IN THAT CATEGORY MAN ITS SO FUCKING ANNOYING
they're like the 3rd wave emo band. no one's out here calling thursday or tbs pop punk lol
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fuleao · 2 years
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my dash is exploding with excitement over tma 2 and i am alone stewing in my mixed feelings because i found out my favorite band is actually going to release that full-length movie they haven’t spoken of in a long time
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woolydemon · 2 years
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if I have to blind myself trying to read 100% brightness neon colored text on a neon colored background on you ppl's blogs again I'm just going to delete ur account. you've lost ur computer privileges
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neontaxidermy · 15 days
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well as much fun as a monster cum romp is. I think I need a palette cleanser in the form of cumless cinema (sorry lighthouse rewatch. your turn next). but what.
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48787 · 2 months
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toki suli nasa wawa li pona suli jaki e pilin mi nasa wawa
(Little too lazy rn to make sure that is grammatically correct, but toki ike is still more toki pona than toki English so I don't care that much hehe, it's good enough for me at least. I would write this blurb in toki pona as well but I still need to work out comparisons a bit more first.)
I made my post ideating a second blog or a Blog Revelation -> Regenesis or maybe something else entirely, and then immediately after posting I refreshed the page and saw people were contemplating the efficacy of this webbed site once again due to unneeded/unwanted/unpopular changes to the site once again, which got me thinking quite a bit more about what I actually wanted out of all this. It was kinda like a sign from the Gods, shedding divine light to guide my path.
And there's such a radiant glow coming from the "Export Blog" button...
I don't think the data theft shit'll be that bad for me specifically, I don't think I did anything here that could be considered "Sensitive" (Relative to any other shitty data stealing websites we keep finding ourselves normalizing) but I suppose you never really know until it's too late. Regardless, I think I don't need to consider the infernal temptation of the big red "Delete Account" button for quite a while until the next Divinely Comedic think happens and the temptation grows stronger. It is such a tempting button how it is alone anyway..
I just might not make as many "public" posts while I focus on my own local environment and a more targeted (and more "secure," whatever that means in this day and age,) audience. I'm so sorry denizens of this social platform, if it feels like I've been deceiving you into thinking I was here to socialize it's because I was and still am (Deceiving you, I mean), I'm really mostly just here to look at shit for wannabe art student inspiration and do pseudo slam poetry that I don't expect anyone to read but post anyway because the adrenaline kick from potentially being held accountable (In any possible way, getting complimented is another form of being held accountable you know.) helps me shape my social anxiety into something more positivity fetishistic. Though I do hope this doesn't come as a shock, as I've said quite a few times by now my first rule is "You are being deceived" and if you were deceived into thinking I was lying it's kinda a skill issue sorry, I literally feel psychic pain when I lie so I try my hardest to just act deceptive rather than actually lie or spread misinformation/false information (I don't know if the distinction between any of these words matters to anyone but me, but hey maybe you can learn the wonders and horrors of Etymology some day!.. Or maybe we should stop telling autistic people shit like "You need to not be expressive in order to be expressive" because that's not deception that's just a fucking lie or weird wannabe proof by contradiction, and I am living proof enough that that doesn't fucking work for people like me who feel the need to be expressive.).
Despite that deception, most of you have been excellent weapons and/or tools and I hope I can use you all again later. Maybe at some point this blog site that supposedly lets people be themselves will eventually let me be myself more too! It'd probably have to make a couple changes before I could consider it "worth" being "myself" on, but hey the future sure is bright ain't it! But if not feel free to message me on whatever communication platform, protocol, or format you prefer whenever you want about whatever (Maybe you like being one of my weapons or tools, idk, it's not my job to judge that beyond how it shapes how I utilize you), even on Tumblr's shitty messaging service if you happen to "prefer" it for some weird reason. I happen to prefer direct messages solely between two distinct entities because it makes the social contract a bit easier to understand or reshape so I'm even willing to put up with Tumblr's shitty messaging service for now, but hey you do you, if you want to try to communicate with me via tags or posts or whatever I'll certainly try to perceive your meaning! Good luck!!
And, if you can bear the raw psionic might emitted from whatever cobbled together homunculus I form to bear the weight of my thoughts (Most likely an even shittier website, but my previous definition of "website" has actually proven to be incorrect so who knows!), know that I have so many more posts in mind that have to go somewhere so you might be able to seize the relatively unique privilege of actually seeing them if you would like. It'd be a good idea to probably have a good understanding of toki pona first though, I'm only speaking English because I lack power to make pu or su mandatory readings in public education and I have yet to master telepathy well enough to psychically transmit the glyphs in a way other brains can actually understand.
I'll still be around, probably still making posts similar to how I have been if focus allows it, but there just won't be any kind of deliberate/active improvement to the format or structure, as well as the natural slowing that occurs whenever focus is diverted. Until I construct my spacebridge, this blog will stagnate at its current level of organization and coherency with the same kind of posts coming at the same or slowed irregular rate. Stagnation should be enraging, but it's merely a diversion of focus till all are one.
Maybe I'll start posting more music posts? idk, i'll feel it out, it might be faster at letting me spew an idea out without having to spend too much focus on, but who knows!
Okay that was a healthy distraction, back to work on the current homunculus! This new homunculus is named "nemesis" and usually uses it/its pronouns but when rodent is @ nemesis sometimes it uses he/him or she/her. She's my lovely baby of extreme power and potential, and I've been siphoning psionic energies and essences to channel within her to the point where its finally sentient, but she still lacks the right amount of perception and aesthetic to really start acting with sapience though (I usually do not separate the two words to make a deliberate etymological point, but I am doing it here to make the point opposite to the one I usually make). She knows I'm proud though!
#yippie peace through tyranny!!#pretentious wannabe art student posting#I need to get around to printing out my weird triune of matrices (Matrixs? The etymology of cybertronian stuff can get muddied sometimes)#The Matrix of 1. Leadership 2. Deception and 3. Conquest will have their places *somewhere* in the enclosure I just need to work it out#May your hours be dark so they may shed their light!!#I also need to write the sister-grimoires of 1. toki moli 2. toki nasa and 3. toki pilin#Still working on toki pilin's title but “pilin” is the closest word for “sin” I have.#(No it would not be “ike” read the lipu Bible to learn more and contemplate sina pilin e mortal existence)#(Oh Christ this gives me ideas for a Divine set too... They wouldn't use “toki” they would probably use lipu instead...)#(lipu ken... lipu kon... lipu kulupu...)#(I am scarily good at this. Not to pat myself on the back or anything but I only was going to write lipu ken but then divined a new triune)#(I really oughtn't've learned about the magic of numbers before going to that bible study... But comedy comes in 3s!!)#I miiiight post all those on this blog?? Maybe?? I'll have to see how progress/focus ebbs and flows#Maybe I'll post the staff planning stuff? Might be good to get more name ideas for my fucking Conscientious Observer#it doesn't seem to like being called “The Mf Eyeclops Staff”#Hell I might even be able to let you fucks use the staff if I get my invocations right!#That could be cool! And a good incentive to figure out more secure I/O/connectivity shit#Alright then I think that's quite enough for one night. Till all are one. No mercy! You are being deceived!! <3
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tonycries · 15 days
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One More? Please? - G.S.
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Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.
Word count. 4.4k
A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.
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“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”
“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”
“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”
You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will. 
“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”
Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.
“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.” 
“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.
Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?
Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it. 
You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.
But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement. 
Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him. 
Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity. 
A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place. 
Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home. 
You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life. 
“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle. 
“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”
You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”
“I already told y-”
“Anything but that.”
With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”
“...”
“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”
You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.
Shit. 
And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably. 
“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”
You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”
Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.” 
And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side. 
All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.
“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?” 
You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”
Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”
“Awww. Eight?”’
“No.”
“Five?”
“Satoru.”
Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”
Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”
And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.  
Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.
It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”
Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted. 
“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips. 
“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.” 
His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again. 
Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes. 
“Shit. O-one more.”
Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between. 
Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock. 
“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”
Oh? 
Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-
Oh.
Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might. 
You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face. 
“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him. 
“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”
Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt. 
But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman. 
“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin. 
Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.
You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”
And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.
Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night. 
You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.
“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”
The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?
“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?” 
Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”
Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you. 
It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.
Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.
God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue. 
“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”
“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”
A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely. 
Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.
Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”
Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument. 
“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.
But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth. 
“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”
Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face. 
Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.
As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. 
Oh, how beautiful he was like this.
“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.
“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.
“One more. It didn’t work.”
Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. 
But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”
The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”
You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick. 
But oh was he pretty - so pretty.  Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.
Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”
Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow. 
“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins. 
And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers. 
Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard. 
Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.
“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”
Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock. 
Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.
Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now. 
As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster. 
Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him. 
“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard. 
Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.
Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”
You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”
Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”
Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.
Slam!
You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him. 
You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”
“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”
And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.
You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 
“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”
Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.
“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.
You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-” 
“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.
But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.
“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.
There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”
You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”
Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him. 
But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.
“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.” 
Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”
Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.
In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders. 
“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him. 
And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over. 
With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”
The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.” 
You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours. 
“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”
And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice. 
You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all -  anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.
Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.
You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-
“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”
“Hngh- yes- Toru!”
You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.
And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt. 
“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically. 
It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly. 
Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.
But first…
Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely. 
Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt. 
But no matter. 
Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him. 
Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”
And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips. 
“One more? Please?”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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cannibalisticskittles · 6 months
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one of my coworkers asked if i had ever considered getting a tattoo of amity today and. for a moment i considered it, lmao.
but i am picky and also fickle. anything i get would need to be the absolute most perfect design that i am satisfied with forever or i would obsess over whatever i turned out to not like, and the lines and color would need to stay sharp and perfect forever and the moment that stopped being the case, i would start gnawing my skin off, i just know it. and those aren't really realistic expectations.
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spynorth · 1 year
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Dawn filters through the half closed blinds, casting pale rays of light that paint lazy shadows across skin half covered by tangled sheets that wrap around the agent's thighs like manacles made of fabric that refuse to let him go. That's alright, really. After all, Lucas North has been in worst prisons. He feels the bed dip beside him, feels the faintest brush of a warm finger start tracing the star that marks his shoulder, hears the soft catch of breath that means the woman beside him is awake - her touch is a siren's call and like the drowned man that he is, Lucas answers.
Eyelids still heavy with sleep blink open as a storm blue gaze flickers briefly to watch the fingers that are now dancing a ticklish touch down the inside of his arm. Somewhere in the corner of his mind the ghosts of his own making linger, reluctant to give up their victim so easily. Once they chased him through every waking moment, nightmares that turned to unlooked for panic in the middle of an afternoon, but now they are nothing but snarling dogs that snap at empty air as their charge disappears through a door that should never have been unlocked. Now, he hums in a welcome contentment, weight shifting and fingers curling around his lover's own, no longer surprised by the sleep flavored grin that tickles the edges of his mouth.
@northliights : when you tell the truth, you look different. your eyes change.
Her voice echoes back to him, that soft observation as he had played with the hair that fell about her face the night before - he can see the way her mouth had curved down at the corners slightly, brow furrowed as if the journalist inside was turning over the possibility of a new story, and he can feel the way his heart had thudded its answer against the sharp bones of his chest. He had laughed it off, a low rumble of sound that shook them both, chased by distracting kisses that peppered the curve of her shoulder and followed the dip of her collarbone. But now Lucas chews at an already split lip, the urge to lay his sins at her feet heavy upon his tongue and rather than swallow it down, he allows the words to fall between them with a rough voice flavored by sleep.
"You're my truth, you know." For the barest of seconds he's afraid she doesn't understand, doesn't remember the observation that had plucked the air from lungs kept behind easily fractured ribs... but Aurora's gaze is as patient as it ever is and the agent tries to ignore the way the rhythm of his pulse stutters against the swell of his throat. "That look .. it's for you, pretty girl." Weight shifts as Lucas moves sideways, rolling slightly until he's above her, palms pressed flat to the mattress on either side and crooked grin playing across stubbled features. His next statement is a declaration, a promise etched into his very bones and painted across his skin that is far more permanent than any tattoo - and he can only hope that she can read the emotion that paints the eyes of John Bateman, a ghost not yet ready to turn the day over to the shuttered man that is Lucas North.
"Only ever you."
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