#they probably figured it out ages ago

[corpsegold]

ok so I started this therapy thing. And she got me to fill out one of those questionnaires like depression and anxiety. And she was like ok so what are your main problems then. And I thought to myself, idk, I was expecting you to tell me that? I went with social anxiety, because I’m coming out of a heavy drinking phase and drinking is the most obvious problem with my mental right now, and because afaict drinking is bc of social anxiety. She looked at the results and pointed out that actually I’m not that anxious at all and I wasn't drunk talking to her. I haven't been drinking much at all recently. Part of it is because my mood has shifted, but also I’ve run out of money. I left thinking about how actually its not social anxiety and that drinking probably started that way and then became about low mood, because its much worse in the winter. But I know that depression isn't the root of my problem. I have a strong hunch that there's something deeper that's wrong with me. I have this feeling that I actually WANT to be mentally ill. I don't think I'm actively trying to be, I think most of my mentally ill behaviour like drinking and being depressed are legit, but I don't think they stand on their own compared to other people with those problems. I can see from some of my reactions to things that have happened and been said to me that I’m eager to get labels, whatever they may be (some very much more than others I have realized) and given how I’m quick to take up and abandon various “ill behaviours” whilst voraciously researching them and the people who have them, probably none of it is genuinely legit as its own standalone problem. Recently whilst sobering up from drinking I had another realization which thankfully I can’t remember most of but it really got me down. Its something I’ve realized a few times before over the years but I kind of block it out? I’m not 100% sure, but I have this hunch. 

I basically realized how my problem isn't social anxiety, its being rejected. Its the reflection of failure. Its having to experience my failure and shortcomings and not have a buffer or a shield or an excuse. I’m starting to think that the reason I cant engage with hobbies, the reason I cant stand being around people, the reason I push friends away, the reason I have never gotten into a romantic relationship isn't because of strictly being paranoid (I’m not really that paranoid 99% of the time), or anxiety, or drinking. Its just all about being completely terrified of failure and unable to cope with it.

I avoid interacting bc its usually negative and I hate myself for it. I avoid relationships because I don't think I have the personality or skillset for it and it would blow up in my face and I’d have to actually face my shortcomings and I don't know if I would actually survive that long term.

I avoid my interests that are skill based because I will probably cry and panic when I’m not immediately good at it. I avoid making things because I can’t cope with not being as good at it as I imagine I am (or was). I collect disordered behaviours of all kinds and constantly make a hobby of thinking of myself as suffering from various mental illnesses because I want an excuse. I want to not be to blame for how I’ve destroyed my life and caused destruction to others. I want to be able to feel like life just dealt me a shit hand and its everyone else’s fault that this has happened.

Like don’t get me wrong I know I suck at lots of things. I know I can be a huge cunt. I don't want to be, but only because I want people to like me. I only have empathy for a handful of people, and its because I fear not being worthy of them or that they might hate me when I neglect or am insensitive to them. I’m very bitter about things my parents have done when they have actually sacrificed a great deal for me. I find it hard to feel grateful to them because I feel like I deserved that and more. Many of the things I’ve done that have upset or hurt other people make me feel guilty and ashamed but to be honest? I think its mostly because it reflects badly on me as a person, not because they're in pain. A lot of the time, anyway. There are times where I’ve definitely had some empathy, for a set group of people (that I’ve known a long time).

but for all I can admit that I suck at things, I struggle to actually accept that its entirely my fault or the result of my decisions. I want that responsibility to be taken off my shoulders. I want to be told that I’m not actually at fault or that I can help it. 

I think in the end I guess I want to be told I’m allowed to act this way?

I think about how my mood can flip flop- but really its not in the style of bipolar. I don't fit the criteria. Its just about self esteem. I go from feeling like I’m hot shit, fucking brilliant, “get out of my way before I run you over I’m the best at this and you can’t see it yet” because of some minor success or recognition, and then next thing I know I have some perceived (real or actual) small or large failure and I get completely distraught over it and start thinking I don't deserve to live.

What I actually should say to this woman in this therapy, is that my goal is to be extremely successful, and to be liked and respected by everyone I meet. I’d take just being wildly successful (fat fucking chance), but really I want both. I’d say I want to be loved and happy, but that actually I’m not sure I know what that feels like or if I’m capable of feeling it. I’d say that honestly, I think I’d rather be worshipped, if I could stand it without hating myself. I think the fact that I’m too scared to risk seeing that those things don't come naturally to me, or that I don't know how to secure them, is what makes me depressed and causes me to drink, or find ways to numb or distract myself, like using mental illness as a hobby. It’s what drove me to shagging over a hundred men in a few years (seeing how many I could fit in solo sessions in a week - the answer is 10 a few times over), its why I failed my degree (by not turning up), its why I feel shame when people bring up my treating them unfairly- but when they don't, and I think about it, I don't actually care, or I readily come up with a barrage of excuses. Because I want to think its not actually my fault and that I deserve it, or that its fine because one day I’ll be wildly successful and I’ll pay everyone back so I wont ever have to think about it or them again.

I learnt my lesson about self diagnosing. Its not about what I want to be told is wrong with me. I don't really understand the diagnostic language and I’m not qualified so its actively harmful to read deeper into it other than having a basic awareness at least at this stage. I do however have a strong hunch about what might be the root of my problems. Its why I doubt that I’m actually mentally ill, even though I might act like it. Its why I think I’m actually just a shit person. 

I want to be better and I don’t know how. I want to be nice to people. I want people to like me and I want to have successful relationships. I don't want to feel like a failure.

But yeah. I have a hunch. Its just a hunch. Its embarrassing and I don't know how I’ll handle it when they figure it out. I can’t hide it by throwing behaviours or symptoms in their face of other things. I can tell that they see through it and that something’s fishy with me. And I know I do genuinely experience these problems- like depression and drinking, but they're symptomatic of something deeper. I hope that the fact that I can recognize this sometimes means that there’s hope or that I’m wrong about this too. 

I dont know how to meaningfully apologize to people for being like this. 

My gut reaction when I start to think about how I’ll feel when I find out is anger towards my parents for taking my future away from me. That kind of confirms it in my book.

#i have small idea that the root of my issues is #having the thing where deep deep down you really hate yourself #and do everything you can to not face or feel it head on #I think my behaviours are because I'm not very good at coping with that #i think i have that self esteem disorder #I think I'm sorry to friends about it #I imagine if this is the case that they probably can already tell I'm really like this #they probably figured it out ages ago #but then again who knows right! I regularly convince myself I have all sorts of problems and then my SyMpTomS change #maybe I'm like. Muchhausens or whatever its called and just making it up #if i really had the self esteem disorder I wouldnt be able to tell right? #whatever I'm gonna take some sleepers and knock myself out #vent

[lacnunga]

Ever wanted to print your own Keith?

#this is from ages ago and i was gonna draw him more outfits #but ill probably not finish it so i just slapped some colour on it #and figured some people here would want to see it anyway #this probably does work if anyone wants to cut it out feel free lmao #you'll have to cut out the face tho #keith windham #the flight of the heron #my art

[mediumtires]

i'm rereading copper and wool and did you ever say what christians anniversary gift was for toto 🤔

okay okay SO! this is so funny, a few weeks ago the first person ever (shoutout to FallingStar on ao3) actually guessed right! it's sheep! to me it was so obvious (copper and wool etc) but looking back now, it really wasn't. so christian's anniversary gift is sheep lol.

when i wrote it i was actually planning a tiny little sequel but I abandoned it and now it's collecting dust on my desktop. that being said, i’ll put it here (unbeta-d first draft) for those who might want to read it!

“No. No chance.” “C’mon, be a good sport.” “Nein,” Toto says, trying hard to hide his smirk. “I will not let you blindfold me.”

“What if I were to take you upstairs?” “Are you?” “No.” “Then no,” Toto laughs, a little exasperated, and tries to pull away from Christian’s insisting hands.

“C’mon, darling,” Christian tries again, a wide grin lighting up his features. “You know it’s the standard protocol for surprises.”

“I don’t trust you,” Toto just says and turns away from Christian and the tie in his hands to put the water filter back in the fridge. “Fuck you.” Christian laughs in retaliation and swats the tie at him. “At least close your eyes then.”

Toto sighs heavily and turns back to Christian, propping one hand up on the kitchen counter. “Are you serious?” “Entirely.” Christian knows he’s won when Toto sighs once more in exasperation and rakes a hand through his hair.

“But don’t make me fall,” he instructs. “Or walk me into things. I’m very important.” Christian rolls his eyes. “I know you are. Now, c’mon. Close your eyes. We don’t have all day.” “We don’t?” 

But Toto does close his eyes after all and stretches his hands out to curl them around Christian’s hips. As Christian starts walking, he says, “Y’know, if you would’ve gone for the tie, I might’ve taken you to the bedroom after.”

Toto snorts. “If you want me to tie you up and blindfold you, just ask,” he offers with a devilish little smirk and Christian is glad he’s got his eyes closed. Something to consider. “Maybe later.” He’s aiming for nonchalant, but he knows Toto sees right through him anyway.

When they step out onto the patio, Toto pulls up his shoulders and frowns. “Are we outside?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Can you not just let me do this for five minutes?” Christian asks, exasperated. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Toto does shut up after that, but it’s mainly because he’s concentrating hard on not tripping and falling when trailing after Christian.

It’s been a few days since their return from Miami and this is the first lull in both their schedules, both of them home early, so frankly, Christian saw an opportunity and took it. Not that he thinks it would have made a huge difference to wait another day or two. Toto hasn’t set a foot anywhere but the chicken coop in a good week, so the probability of him finding out about this is hilariously low. It does make Christian question the whole idea somewhat, but it’s too late now anyway. Still, the Carrera on his left wrist weighs a little heavier than usual.

Toto trips once they reach the gravel path leading further into the grounds and digs his hands into the fleshy bit of Christian’s hips to catch himself. He grunts, stumbles, and Christian can’t help but crack a laugh. “Careful there,” he offers. “Gravel.” He pats Toto’s left hand and then keeps his palm there.

“You are supposed to guide me,” Toto complains, and he already sounds like he’s enjoying this much less than only a minute ago. “You are making me fall on purpose.”

“I’m not.” Christian rolls his eyes towards the sky but keeps moving. “Not everything I do is to antagonise you, darling. Now stop whining.”

Toto does not stop whining because of course he doesn’t. He’s very vocal about how stupid this whole thing is all the way past the chickens, the goats and the donkeys, the pen closest to the house, past their two old ponies, Jacky and Jim, which they had adopted on a whim from the farmer up the road.

For a moment, Christian is contemplating whether he should just push Toto into the pond to humble him. A while ago a bunch of ducks moved in and don’t seem to want to leave again. Christian has grown quite fond of them. More often than not he finds them with the chickens now or waddling around the farm.

“Are we—Is that ducks? Is that the ducks?” Toto has picked up on the distinct flapping of their wings, affronted at the unusual intrusion of their privacy. Christian chuckles at the drake side eying them and pulls Toto further down the path towards the folding. It’s the one attached to the barn at the outskirts of their main property, and Christian had chosen it mainly because it was the one Toto would be least likely to walk into unprompted.

“Almost there,” he says and takes one of Toto’s hands in his so navigating the uneven grounds becomes a little easier. “Should have put on wellies,” he ponders, as he eyes the meadow, the grass long and wet. It’s perfect for the sheep but not exactly ideal for Toto’s dress shoes. They’re Italian leather.

“What?” Toto makes a sound as the damp grass hits his ankles and Christian’s smirk widens. “Christian, you should’ve told me! My boots were right there! These are Italian leather!”

He knows. “I know.” He pulls Toto along. Surprisingly, despite his bitching and moaning, he keeps his eyes closed. “Might have to throw them out later. Shame.” He’ll make sure to keep Toto out here long enough for them to be soaked through and ruined. 

Toto makes another sound, displeased, but Christian can see how hard he’s trying to bite down on his exasperated amusement. Toto’s about to throw a comment back at him when a loud “Baaaaa” cuts him off. “What was that?” Toto pulls himself up a little taller. The sheep must’ve spotted them because there’s another string of agreeable bleating. “Christian, what is that?”

They stop at the fence and Toto, still with his eyes closed, sways a little, gripping Christian’s hand to regain his balance. “Christian.”

“Jesus, yes.” Now that he’s looking at the flock of sheep, all huddled together and warily observing Christian and Toto at the fence, he’s not sure if this wasn’t a silly idea.

He’d come up with it when Toto had one night jokingly suggested they should get sheep.

“Sheep?” “Yeah.” “Do you know how much bloody work sheep are, darling? We can barely keep up with the animals we’ve collected so far! We’re lucky we’ve got Johnny to help us out.” Toto had just laughed and kissed his shoulder and let it go, but then, on a trip to Austria last year, Toto had told him how he’d seen a herd of very specific Austrian sheep every time he’d visited his gran in the countryside and how they reminded him of the better times of his childhood. When Christian started thinking about potential anniversary gifts, it was too perfect to just let go. He couldn’t for the life of him remember the breed Toto had mentioned, but the more he’d looked into it, the more he’d realised that while Austrian sheep are very durable and sturdy, they would probably do less well in the mellow British countryside of Oxfordshire, and so he’d decided on British breeds instead. In the end, he’d just gone for one that looked adorable and was easy enough to maintain. With the accumulation of random animals they already had running around the farm, it wouldn’t make much of a difference anyway. They wouldn’t be using them for wool farming or that, so might as well have them be nice to look at.

The longer he looks at them now, Toto impatient at his side, still holding his hand, the heavier the watch on his wrist feels. Christian isn’t one for huge gestures or anniversary gifts, but somehow things this year felt different. It hasn’t even been a year since Singapore. It still follows them around, the consequences of that day, shadowy and washed out, but he can still feel it, and so can Toto. Christian is just glad they’re still here. They made it to seven years, and beyond, and for whatever bloody reason he thought a flock of seven sheep would be ideal to celebrate an anniversary centred around wool.

“Christian, there’s water in my shoes,” Toto informs him, and Christian turns his head and grins at his city husband, still blind, the corners of his mouth tweaked down.

“That’s a shame,” he says, “You can open your eyes now.”

Toto does so immediately. He blinks, frowns up at the grey sky, rubs at his eyes with the hand that isn’t still holding Christian’s. Christian lets go to lean against the wooden fence instead.

There is a brief pause. Then, “Christian?” “Yes, darling.” “What am I looking at.” Christian turns to Toto with his eyebrows twitching. As if it wasn’t obvious. “Your anniversary gift!” Toto’s eyes go a little wider as he looks back at the flock of sheep, a huddle of white fleece and black eyes. “What?”

“I told you, your gift was waiting at home.”

“You got me… sheep?”

“Well, us, I guess. But yeah.”

“Seven sheep?”

“Well, first of all, Johnny said no less than five.” Christian is getting a little flustered now and so he blusters on in full pretentious confidence of a Formula 1 team principal defending a Max overtake that no one in good conscience should defend. “And so I wanted to get six, but then I thought, well that doesn’t make any sense, does it, when it’s our seven year anniversary and the theme I’m going with is wool. So I got seven. And they’re a family! The two little ones were only born a few weeks ago. I didn’t want to take them from their mothers.” He pulls his shoulders down a little to straighten his back and keeps looking at the sheep to avoid having to look at his husband. “Plus, you were banging on about wanting sheep.”

“You remembered that? That was ages ago.”

“So?”

“Christian.” Toto’s voice is soft in a way it only ever is when he’s about to say something disarming. “Darling. I—” And then he just wraps himself around Christian from behind, chin hooked over his shoulder and nosing Christian’s cheek. “You said they are too much work.”

“Well, you said you wanted them so—” “How do you manage to outdo me every time?” Toto’s voice is awfully quiet. “I really thought I nailed it this year.” Christian breathes a laugh, half of it in relief that he, against better judgement, didn’t mess this up. “You know I love my watch,” he tells Toto, fingers brushing the warmed leather hugging his wrist. “And this isn’t a competition. You got copper, I got wool. Sorted.”

“I can’t believe you got me sheep,” Toto says again. His voice is a little higher than usual, his accent catching on the vowels, making the words come out hitched.

“Well, look,” Christian grabs one of the large hands wrapped around his torso and covers it with his own. “It’s not just—Sure, you said you wanted sheep, but—Look, I know you’re not a farm boy, okay? You’re very much a child from the city and I know you say you love our home, but I want you to feel it, too, I want you to feel at home here and not just come along for the ride and agree to everything I say. Especially after last year, I want this place to be our sanctuary, and if it takes bloody sheep because you said you wanted them, then so be it. There’s your sheep.”

Toto’s smile widens, Christian can feel it pressed to his cheek, and he can feel the pleased little hum too, reverberating down his spine. Toto’s hold around him tightens fractionally. “I feel very at home, darling. You know that, ja? I don’t need sheep for that. Mostly I need you.”

Christian closes his eyes on a deep breath, and sinking further into Toto’s chest he says, “We can put them with the rest of the lot soon. They’ll need another few days or so, until they’re settled in, and then we can move them in with the others.”

“We’ll need a sheep dog now.”

Christian barks a laugh, lets his head thump against Toto’s shoulder in defeat. “Yeah, no, Bernie and Flav won’t do, will they? Lazy little buggers.” “It’s because you feed them at the table.” “Hey, you started that! Flav, with those puppy eyes and you just—Don’t think I don’t know you cut him up steak when I’m not looking!” Toto’s silent laughter comes in short puffs of breath against the skin of Christian’s neck. “No no no no,” he feels the need to clarify even though they both know it’s the truth. “You feed them too, don’t lie.” Christian tries to stifle a smirk. “They are a tad overweight, aren’t they?” “The vet said, last time,” Toto reminds him. “We need to work them harder, or cut out the food.” Christian hums. “It might be time for a third. A puppy will work them alright.” He coughs a laugh, already regretting this, and adds, “Might as well get a cow or two while we’re at it. Not like it matters now.”

“What are we going to call them?” Toto suddenly asks, lifting his chin from Christian’s shoulder to regard the sheep more closely.

“Well, we gotta stick to the theme.” Christian’s mouth lifts into a smirk. “So you better get creative.”

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?” Toto asks. “My sheep, my turn.” “Toto, I swear, if you’re going to name them something stupid—” “You named the donkeys and now I have to call them Max and Daniel!” Christian’s protest dissipates into thin air. “Well, it works, they’re good names.” “Yes, and now it’s my turn.” “Just remember, it’s mostly ewes. One ram, the big one, the rest is ewes, and the two lambs are one of each.” “…ewes?” “Female sheep, darling. So I want no Lewis running around, or George, or whoever you’re already thinking of.” “No,” Toto hums thoughtfully. “Lewis is a goat, not a sheep.”

It's so stupid, it has Christian crack a well-earned laugh.

And bonus (cause I couldn’t work this in):

“You know, they’re like… designer sheep.” “They’re what? Designer sheep?” “Yeah, well, look, we’re not going to use them for breeding, or wool, or meat, are we, so they’re… you know. Nice to look at. Sheep we can keep as pets, more or less. They’re still a durable breed, just. Also nice to look at.”

Toto laughs at him for an hour after that.

Here are said sheep!

“They look a little like donkeys, don’t they?” “You think?” “Ja.” “Well, they’re not, they’re sheep. Kerry Hill.” “Kerry who? Have you named them already?” “What? No, that’s the breed, darling. They’re Kerry Hill sheep. They’re from Wales.” “So basically foreigners, yes? We should give them foreign names. International.” Toto grins at him, then he adds, “We should give them German names you can’t pronounce.”

#this is so stupid lol #this is literally just a rough first draft so bear with #it’s the same twenty words i always use #i have no idea if this even makes sense. probably not i won’t lie i skimmed it once and shrugged #also i know fuck all about farming ok #don’t come for me i don’t know the difference between a hen house and a chicken coop it’s the same to me #and! #shoutout to FallingStar on ao3! they’re the only one who figured it out!!! #(i know i promised i’d name the sheep but i never got there lol sorry!!!) #also i can’t quite remember but i think discord saw this first? it was ages ago but sending love <3<3<3 #toto wolff #christian horner #seven years #christian/toto

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

idk what the fandom consensus is on yuma raincode's age but in the game i generally assumed he was like 14-16 and after the game im even more convince about that. the reason is after chapter 5 i was confused why makoto, yuma's clone who should be genetically identical to yuma and also the same age, is much taller than yuma himself. but if they used yuma's dna to clone makoto 3 years before the events of rain code, yuma would have been about 11-13, which is generally right before boys hit a growth spurt.

the idea of a boy detective becoming the head of a global detective organization isn't really too out there in a kodaka game tbh. and the child prodigy detective is a really popular trope anyway. but yeah yuma as the head of the WDO would have lived on nothing but coffee, protein bars, and like 3 hours of sleep a day during the time where he was supposed to be growing taller. meanwhile makoto, who doesn't really get to do much in kanai ward even after becoming the CEO, would have had three square nutritious meals a day and plenty of sleep. hence why makoto grew taller like a normal teenager and yuma will be a short king forever.

#shut up pandora #rain code #master detective archives: rain code #yuma kokohead #makoto kagutsuchi #but thats just a theory #a GAME theory #but yeah i ascribe to this hc specifically bc it would be rly funny #the fact that kurumi who is canonically in high school is yumas love interest also points towards him being around that age #but given that this is a kodaka game i cant assume it just from that #in his gumshoe gab yakou said he was in high school over 10 years ago so hes probably in his early to mid thirties #yakous supposed to be the oldest detective in the gang so i assume halara is a few years younger? #they seem to be the most well adjusted adult out of all of them #my vibe is that vivia sees yakou as a father figure but he also seems older than the kids so probably around halaras age or a bit younger #desuhiko is yumas age i think #fubuki had a gumshoe gab where she thinks she might have a crush on yuma but shes also generally very ignorant #just based on her height she seems older than yuma and desu so i assumed for part of the game that shes around 20 #but now i will hc her as like 2-3 years older than yuma bc if she were any older that would make the confession scene uncomfortable for me #anyway none of thsi matters bc the games will never confirm any of their ages anyway #this is just for my understanding of the characters and any fics i may write in the future lol

[daz4i]

sat down to write all ages in my au, at different points of the story. now, that was very stupid of me. because. that was a lot of math. and so. i worked my brain too much and now it's awake. and I've got an alarm set for less than 5 hours from now. wish me luck

#not like I'd fall asleep anytime soon either 💔 despite the sleeping pill i took 2 hours ago lol. #wish me luck...... #tomorrow may be hard but it won't be long at least... but i should probably try to avoid naps through the day 💔 rip #BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS I FIGURED OUT THE AGES AND MORE OR LESE TIME RANGE FOR THE STORY! #might be able to turn the timeline into a proper visual thing now 👁👁 #(i did make changes in the middle that might've messed things up a bit but. that's a problem for my tomorrow self)

[eyes1nthewoods]

"omg the *guy i've never heard of in my entire life* to astarion pipeline is so real!!!"

#guy who's never played dragon age voice #level lan. fen rizz. #i think they are elves? #looking back on blorbos ive had and it honestly doesnt seem like much of a pipeline and more like a conspiracy board. #nightcrawler xmen evolution -> spider-man -> lucifer lucifer fox/netflix -> jonathan sims tma -> astarion baldurs gate #there's probably more i cant remember #ok well the dragon age tag is kind of a lie i've heard of them #i just really have no feelings towards them due to not caring about dragon age #i tried to figure out how to play what i think?? was the first game?? a few years ago and it wasnt on steam so i gave up.

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

still thinking about olu in episode 1 saying "this is happening" about nigel badminton dying vs lucius later saying "this is happening" about ed & stede falling in love

#ofmd #like smarter people have probably figured this one out ages ago #and my brain hasn't been functional for 2-ish months now so I'm not getting further than this #but y'know. themes. parallels. etc. #(which apparently take me MULTIPLE rewatches to even start noticing lmao)

[dustylovelyrun]

Last Line Tag

Rules: Post the last line that you wrote, then tag as many people as your heart so desires, humans!

Tagged by @atomic-insomnia. Round one of the (logged) owed three, my human! If I owe you more, we’ll find out as I go poking throughout my notes again. Thank you so, so much, and I’m sorry for leaving it for so long!

“Thanks,” and, though visibly displeased with the situation, Kolisnyk eventually accepts the wordless offer, body unfurling from his admittedly entertaining slump and reaching out with his unwounded hand to grasp onto Calleum’s own. With little regards to either proper wound care or medical hygiene, Kolisnyk uses the bent and twisted fingers of his injured hand to drive into the soft earth, regaining purchase with the claw-like movement, before pressing the laceration in his palm down into the blackened topsoil. It’s with an irritable hiss that he then pushes down, using the combined momentum of his motions and Calleum’s swift tug to haul himself upwards. A momentary stagger overcomes him as he rediscovers the world on both feet, and Calleum’s hands hasten to balance him by his lower back and bicep, while Kolisnyk tilts and throws the other hand back out for some semblance of balance. He looks rather wretched, Calleum notes, while Kolisnyk continues to be quick as ever, readjusting and canting to the side, stabilizing as he shifts his weight onto the notably less muddied part of his body and the leg that doesn’t look half-beaten in its war against nature, and Calleum soon finds that he isn’t quite mature enough to reign in the soft breath of laughter that wells in his chest and releases with his observations.

From Pulse. This puppy took a little bit, with the brain constantly shifting words around and leaving me very, very confused every time I read it over. Hoping it ended up coherent. Kolisnyk is Riley, and this is the aftermath of what happens when he isn’t paying much attention, falling down an embankment, and he just so happens to do so while Calleum is absently wandering about the forest that surrounds their school somewhere during the low light of dusk, too. Riley then reveals himself to be much like any doctor, with an apprenticeship steadily underway in healing, but still making the rather poor choice of disregarding his own basic health - like slapping down a newly attained laceration in his hand into dirt.

Anyway... how are we liking the new tense? It gives me Hell~ But it’s functioning far better in terms of comprehension for me than past tense used to, and it’s all starting to flow quite nicely during the writing process, too.

Tagging: @trashplanetsandmagicforests, @aziz-writes, @thewalkingnerd, @writingamongther0ses, @rubyleaf, @juleswrites, @emelkae, @stories-by-rie, @pen-for-sword, @akindofmagictoo, @writerfae, @drippingmoon, @ineffablyendless, @oh-three, @oh-no-another-idea, @keen2meecha, @winterandwords, @writingpotato07, @bloodlessheirbyjacques, @aelenko, @maybenow22

#writing #my writing #last line tag #wip: pulse #A). WHAT DO YOU M E A N #What do you MEAN the LAST TIME I posted ANY SNIPPET was during MARCH?? #B). I'm not quite sure when references with surnames became a thing but it's working quite well to establishing slow shifts in relations #and giving me an idea of where they are within each other's minds. there's a variant of some sort for everyone it seems #surnames being the most common as they accumulate partners in crimes like pokemon cards #and C). while rewriting the tense and figuring things out I've decided that it fits much better. Present. And I need to reevaluate ages #I had the unfortunate experience of interacting with folks around their canonical ages a month or so ago. It's not bad #but I've also never felt so out of the loop and old as well #I'm also steadily and slowly making Milena older and older to adjust and really need to stop doing that because soon she'll age out #even with the weird kinda school system I've got going on for my magical alien school #oh and bonus D) point - #screw the moving house thing. that's one of the reasons I've delayed stuff. I've given up and won't be leaving things hanging like that #probably to some degree at least but monthly stirring needs to be a thing again #I'm slowly forgetting how to do things and that just isn't on #if it means participating in writeblr while passively squishing my dog as she bowls over moving company employees so be it - #going to make myself be active again come hell or high water

[orcelito]

trying to piece together the residents of this goddamned ship through the barest of hints

the man who found vash 70 years ago i think was Sensei's father(?) considering there's an old pic of

This. that hair matches the hair of the man who found vash & also the face

and it being 70 years ago & this man already looking in his 30s or so, he'd be VERY old for being Sensei.

i also 100% missed the fact that Sensei did.. die...

this being the last time we see him (i think), among the group of ppl that were turned into puppets. which i didnt really register my last read, but it absolutely would mean he was dead, bc that dude made his puppets out of corpses.

Luida just straight up not answering about Sensei's fate

and then Vash seeing Sensei's face among this dream(?) of People Who Died (which was the first time i'd realized he was maybe not alive, RIP)

so. yeah. Sensei's 100% dead. and i am so sad.

#speculation nation #fanny reads trigun #fanny's trigun analysis #trigun spoilers/ #ive gathered tho that the residents of the ship really do not use the cold sleep chambers #they Exist. we see them. but then it shows a shot of the pods. which are empty. #these people are just living their lives as a community. not extending their lifetimes in hopes of a new tomorrow #but rather. just living in the present. falling in love and having children. continuing on in this way. #so Luida wouldnt have been the leader for the whole time. not like in tristamp. #there's a brief flashback of her when she's younger. 40 years ago it said. where vash steps in to save them from confronting knives #if we go off of that. assuming she was either a teenager or early 20s. she's probably in her 50s-60s. which tracks i think #then there's Brad and Jessica. among the recent generation. Brad's 4 when they first meet him. Jessica around that age too #13 years pass before he sees him again. making him 17. but if we zoom in 8 years before. it will have been 5 years. So. #9 year olds Brad and Jessica... adorable. #yeah if we assume that's Luida in that pic up there she looks Maybe 40 ish. so. reasonable to assume she's in her 50s or so. #adding this post to the books of Things Im Trying To Figure Out Through Subtle Details And Passing Statements #god i miss having a thorough wiki to reference. it's hard doing all this detail digging myself. #but I WILL DO ITTTTTTTTTTTT for the fanfic. i gotta have a fuckin iron grip on my trimax trivia for this i guess lmfao

[leverage-ot3]

just realized today while rewatching heartstopper that I accidentally did a nick nelson when I was in 8-9th grade (agreeing to go out with someone bc you don’t know how to say no) and I’m fucking shook nick why are we like this

#he was one of my best friends and I knew he liked me but I was avoiding it because I didn’t think of him that way #he was like the stop before me on the bus and right before his stop he asked me out and I didn’t know how to say no SO I SAID YES #got home. had probably one of my first panic attacks. called a friend I wasn’t really friends with anymore to talk about it (idk why) and #then told him I wasn’t ready for a relationship like 45 minutes later over the phone #he never talked to me again lmao #I *did* really miss his friendship throughout high school and there were always slightly weird vibes if we were ever in the same groups in #class but. oh well I guess #I messaged him a little over a year ago apologizing for it and we talked for a bit but I forgot to reply bc I’m bad at texting so it petered #out #why is this the anxious gay/bisexual experience fr #anyways watch heartstopper i love them sm i would die for nick nelson #also I’m just re realizing CHARLIE IS LITERALLY 15?!?!?! #HES SO YOUNG #THEY ARE FIGURING THAT SHIT OUT SO SOON #I was NOT emotionally ready for relationships at that age lmao #not leverage #jackie talks #about me #mine #heartstopper

[sunsrefuge]

cool !!! cool cool cool.

#info in tags. probably a vent too. just. as heads up. #pet negligence tw #pet injury tw #pet abuse tw #/rambling #/to be deleted #so um. well. my brother has been taking care of my dogs. #and now blu is puking up pieces of her crate. like shes been EATING IT. and i went and looked and its so fucking obvious where she’s ESTING #and he hasnt SAID or DONE ANYTHING !!!! #if my dog dies because of his negligence i might. literally kill him myself. #i cant stay in this house anymore i Need to move out as soon as i can. i Have to #for my sake and for my pets’ sake. theyre the butt of every joke #my parents have been joking about cooking my cat since i got her seven years age #ago** — even though shes the only thing that kept me ALIVE at that point #and my mother is more worrief about the expensive couch being ‘ruined’ than BLU POSSIBLY DYING. #i cant do this. i need to figure out what i can do and put out at a reasonable rate to like. open up a ko-fi or something #i dont know. i dont know but i have to do SOMETHING.

[running-in-the-dark]

I'm trying to help my mother with something on her laptop, buuut she can't even figure out how to open TeamViewer. I asked her to take a photo of her screen (there's no way she could figure out how to take a screenshot), and this is what I got

🙃🙃🙃

#I'm so glad I told her I don't have much time right now #but that means I'll have to try again tomorrow and I don't know if my sanity will remain intact #honestly it's probably easier and quicker if I just drive the 10 minutes to her house and do it in person 🙃 #I don't understand how she got to almost 70 without being able to figure any of this out herself (no I fully know how. we all do it for her #because she refuses to learn. it's not an age thing either. she was like this when I was a little kid so 25+ years ago) #anyway ugh I hate it

[ghostiboos]

Anti-Capitalism and ChatGPT

(wordcount: 1,177)

Here’s the thing. I’ll be the first to admit that ChatGPT is cool, yeah? And I’m far from ignorant of the wonderful things it’s made possible. But there’s a pretty big problem with its professional usage,

and before you stop reading,

I promise that the point of this post is not "you have to stop using ChatGPT." Just. Stick with me for a minute, cuz contrary to what you might expect, this is not a problem contained to just the normies that don’t use ChatGPT: this is about how ChatGPT will affect you.

I’m about to use some scary words like “scalping” and “exploitation,” but remember I’m not accusing you of anything. In fact, let’s start with the good stuff.

Among other things, it could be argued that ChatGPT actually enhances workplace accessibility by “leveling the playing field,” in a way. Any job candidate can quickly make up for lack of time/skill/ability in one area by using ChatGPT to fill in the gaps, right? An individual’s personal quality of life can improve by “outsourcing” aspects of their work to ChatGPT — they have more free time, and maybe their work quality and pay grade improve too.

But I’d like to point out that this isn’t ChatGPT making life better for employees. This is actually ChatGPT eliminating the entire role of “employee.”

Okay, crazy statement time:

A person using ChatGPT in a professional setting is no longer an employee, but, in practice, actually a corporation.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Well, in concise terms, ChatGPT catalyzes the exploitation of labor by collecting it all in one place, meaning that the labor of hundreds of people can be scalped and represented as the work of a single entity: the individual using ChatGPT.

This essentially transforms the individual employee into a CEO of their own small corporation, which is being outsourced to larger corporations for work. Our new “CEO” doesn’t even have to pay any “employees,” keeping all of the profit they earned with the labor scalped by ChatGPT. This is why the individual is able to reap so much more profit from using ChatGPT than they ever could from working as a single employee.

You may think I’m trying to frame our new little “CEO” as the villain of this story, but it’s exactly the opposite. They’re just playing by the rules of the system, and within the system, it’s way nicer being a corporation than it is living as an employee. It’s just proof of concept that life on top is exactly as easy as we’ve all been guessing it is, and the only requirement for leveling up is a willingness to exploit labor. ChatGPT is a shiny new miracle tool that makes exploitation easy and accessible to everyone, and it doesn’t even look or feel like exploitation because there are no faces attached.

But that’s where this short-term improvement goes downhill: it’s accessible to everyone, including the actual corporations, who have already amassed the means to exploit labor en masse. If ChatGPT gives individuals a level-up by eliminating the role of employee and allowing them to act as corporations, how does that same level-up work when a corporation uses it? Well, I guess it’s a good thing the role of “employee” has been eliminated, because they aren’t needed anymore lol: not if your goal is to turn a profit, and we all know that’s just how things go.

But hey— galaxy brain here, but couldn’t that be kind of a good thing actually? The current system doesn’t function without people on the bottom who are available for exploitation, so if ChatGPT can automate the exploited parties for us by scalping labor from the past, then doesn’t that mean that the endless work necessitating human employment in the first place is finally… unnecessary? For the first time ever, we could be looking at a society where pretty much all of the labor is already accounted for, meaning all humans are free to pursue any passion they want regardless of their background, regardless of their class, regardless of how much money they- oh, right… Money.

The world I described above either sounds like a utopia to you or a dogshit stupid pipe dream, and unfortunately, both are true.

The problem is,

while technology has advanced to the point where it’s finally ready for automated labor, society has not.

We still live in a system where if you don’t work, you don’t eat, regardless of whether any work actually needs to be done. So… what actually happens in the current system if labor is automated?

Well, I won’t bore you with the typical “THE ROBOTS ARE TAKING ALL OUR JOBS” routine, but like. It’s only half wrong? I mean, we don’t even have the tech to automate all labor anyway, so it’s not like that’s literally what’s happening. But there are still… a lot of jobs that can be automated now, and that puts a lot of people in positions where they have to compete with ChatGPT in order to keep food on the table. It’s already a losing battle for a lot of people.

Using ChatGPT gives you a taste of corporate power, of the ability to exploit if it makes things financially easier for you. And that’s understandable, right? We’re all struggling in a system like this. Just don’t forget that line of reasoning when it comes full circle, where instead of getting to do the exploiting, you’re the one being exploited (again). Don’t forget what it was like to be on top: how normal it felt, reasonable, unremarkable. It didn’t feel like exploitation when you only experienced the profits. That is who owns you now. Let that radicalize you.

So long story short,

the existence and usage of ChatGPT is not the problem. In a better world, you’re right that ChatGPT could be a great ally, but the current structure of the job market has transformed it into a competitor. The human working class and ChatGPT are forced to compete against each other, not because it is rational for us to be enemies, but because the system pits all laborers against each other for the “privilege” of work. People are realizing that they really can’t beat the competition this time, so don’t scold them when they don’t share your enthusiasm. We’re all dogs in this fight, and ChatGPT has fucking lazer eyes.

It’s not the end of the world – the job market has always been prone to fluctuation – but this is different from your average fluctuation. It re-frames so much that used to seem impossible, but if we don’t change the system itself to match this advancement in technology, I guarantee it’s not gonna be the people at the top who pay the price.

The choice is not whether or not to use ChatGPT.

The choice is whether to discontinue ChatGPT so that society can continue with the relative stability it had before, or to embrace ChatGPT as the ally it could be by changing the structures that weaponize it against us.

(Okay I’m getting off my soapbox now, I sure hope nobody else is in this abandoned soapbox factory, can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if anyone actually heard me say all that lol)

#i could have written this in a more professional tone but so could ChatGPT so you get the manic rambling version #and again this isn’t an accusation of anyone and it’s not intended to make people feel guilty #it’s just me figuring out how to explain my position in a way that’s both concise and understantable i guess? #ive had several dude-bros mock me for being supposedly anti-progress or some shit but i never know how to respond cuz im just like #bro no if anything im saying it’s not enough progress and in this particular case it’s weirdly anachronistic in a way that has the potential #to destabilize a lot of people’s livelihoods #im not panicking about it cuz society already went to shit ages ago #but it would be kinda nice if things didn’t go even more to shit just because a bunch of supposedly ‘pro-progress’ humans refused to #acknowledge that their hardware was too old to run the new OS without blowing a fuse (if that makes sense) #(which it probably doesn’t cuz i suck at talking but im tired so i get to stop typing now) #(​jesus christ wtf am i thinking posting this i dont wanna deal with it if anyone respondsss) #(whatever i spent like 3 hours on this so might as well) #anti capitalism #chat gpt #chatgpt #ai #tag rambles #text post #not vent

[k2ulhu]

according to imdb the 2 highest rated x files episodes are clyde bruckman's final repose (s3e4) and bad blood (s5e12) -- both with a 9.2/10. s3e4 aired october 13 1995 (mulder's birthday) and s5e12 aired february 22 1998 (one day before scully's birthday). which is a pretty cool coincidence

#I've reached my daily 'why do you know that and how did you figure it out' weirdly specific x files trivia quota within my friend group #so I'm posting it here #out of fear they may abandon me if I say one more strange thing #but oh yeah that reminds me #did you guys know rain king takes place august 1998 #(originally thought it was 1999 which was also weird given that 2 episodes ago was christmas but then I noticed a calendar that said 1998) #and that's like right after fight the future #which is probably the funniest possible time for that episode to be taking place #(this of course assuming that the x files universe orders their months the same way we do) #(there is actually a surprising amount of evidence to the contrary) #(also the south pole is on the top) #(but that is neither here nor there) #anyway I actually don't remember how I figured this out lol #I'm pretty sure it was unintentional #bad blood being one day off bugs me to no end but still it's pretty cool #to me at least #bro I just noticed (I swear I'm not crazy) the age difference between these episodes is also the same #the EXACT same actually because 1996 was a leap year so there's that extra day #oh boy

[screampied]

‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)

wc. 6k

warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.

dbf! toji masterlist

“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”

you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…

just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.

skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”

“oh yeah?”

as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”

“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”

“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”

“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”

you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.

three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower

wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol

shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????

kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)

iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin

“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”

“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.

your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.

he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”

toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.

of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.

you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…

“i meant what i said,” you mutter.

while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”

his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”

with such simple words, trust and believe he does.

toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.

for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.

your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”

“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.

oh, you were soaked alright.

a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”

dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”

you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.

although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.

BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this

gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…

FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<

you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.

squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.

“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.

side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.

candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.

so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.

“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”

his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.

each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.

after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.

“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”

“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.

he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.

toji fushiguro…

a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?

. . .

unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?

once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.

that was . . embarrassing.

the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.

oops.

“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.

you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.

all thanks to toji.

you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”

“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”

your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.

chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up

zorosballswallower: NOOOOO

anonymoususer: dad?

gojoclitoru: lol no.

and with many others the comments continue to flood.

majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”

“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.

“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”

my girl…

for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.

he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.

“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”

“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”

“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.

it hits you like a semi-truck.

illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.

in your mind, you’re thinking . .

finally, the good part.

toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”

so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.

the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”

“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.

testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.

the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.

with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…

you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”

“huh?”

“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”

glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.

“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.

“please what?”

“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.

toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”

you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.

“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.

a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.

arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.

“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )

and toji’s just so fucking big.

he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.

metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.

the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.

a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.

languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.

toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.

“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.

“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”

“i missed you t—.”

“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”

you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.

“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.

it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.

with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.

gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(

willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…

iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru

hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom

your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.

he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.

the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.

“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”

“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”

he was right.

then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.

you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.

“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.

you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.

he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.

sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”

“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.

“yes what, girl.”

you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.

“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”

toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.

shit.

he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.

“honeyyy? you up there?”

you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.

already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.

maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.

dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.

“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”

his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.

eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.

“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.

so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.

“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.

“come here, princess.”

it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.

you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.

simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.

breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.

toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.

“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.

“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.

you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.

it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.

and yet for once, you have him speechless.

toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”

“ . . . ”

#★vegasbaby. #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #female reader #anime smut #cw sex mention

[sugarsugarmp3]

i always thought that the cigarette brands you'd see in tv and movies like marlboro and camels were like fancy designer cigarettes or something bc i'd never seen a pack anywhere before. turns out they're just american

#i found this out last week and i probably should have figured it ages ago lol #i have no idea what most brands are here either bc all the packaging is identical #txt