#i think some of you are trying to act like not voting means there's no blood on your hands

[sashayed]

I haven't said as much about electoral politics this year as I have in previous cycles, because I am exhausted like everyone else and have nothing new or helpful to add. That is still true, so caveat lector I guess lmao!!! Happy American Election Day Fellow Sufferers!!

I have been experiencing an internal backlash the last few years to my extremely Sorkinpilled D.C. private school upbringing -- my childhood spent as a kind of convent schoolgirl in the faith of The System Is Good If We All Participate, which of course has a uhhh let's say generously a minimal engagement with the ways in which many of us are by design shut out of participating. I don't think idealism is necessarily childish, but I think MY idealism certainly has childish qualities, an undergirding of 90s feel-goodism, of civic participation as a subtle ego stroke and of voting -- although I would never have consciously put it this way -- as a way to feel superior to people who don't vote.

Lately there has bubbled up in me a sludgy, adolescent fury at this whole stupid country that has made it very very hard to feel like I should do even the bare minimum. For these people? AMERICANS? The ones that not only want Donald Trump to be president but saw what happened the first time and were like, We love this, do it again but worse? Whatever, fuckos. "I hope you people get your dearest wish and it chews you to death slowly," I may have thought.

I have also thought: why is it so controversial to ask elected officials to stop funding a genocide? Why are we treating people who make that ask, who are watching the current administration directly fund death on a mass scale and objecting to that choice, as if they are being babies and just need to get over it? How are they supposed to get over it? Why is anybody over it?

Anyway all this means that I, a known chipper door-knocker and caller of congresspeople, have been pretty low-key this current cycle. I think that is OK. I don't want to make this a big dramatic confessional about how I didn't write enough postcards or whatever. We all get exhausted and this was my turn.

But it has also been an illuminating cycle in that it's made it clear to me how much at my big age I still want politics to make me feel good, and when they don't, I still have the urge to throw a lil tantrum about it! I can get very superior and intellectual about how right-wing operatives manipulate their voters emotionally WITHOUT EVEN NOTICING that I too have been manipulated, in my case into the feeling that nonparticipation is a kind of revolutionary act.* Just absolute "I threw it on the GROUND" logic happening inside my head. "Maybe if I don't vote I will be doing Quiet Quitting, which is uhhhhh anticapitalist." I'm not a part of your system!!!

Anyway, I am trying to have self-compassion about it, and one way for me to do that is to project my internal experience onto a theoretical reader. That would be you, my imaginary friend who clicked on this post for some reason even though you have already decided not to vote! I just want to tell you that I am more sympathetic to your point of view than I have ever been in my whole life, and I'm sorry I have historically been a glib, holier-than-thou asshole about it in ways that may actually have made you MORE resistant to civic participation.

And you're right: it doesn't make that big a difference whether I personally vote or not, or whether you do. But if there are hundreds of us, and I think there are, then each of those people individually do starts to matter.

I guess I would humbly request that you and I both pay attention to what people who need help are actually asking for. I would ask that we both notice who wins when we abdicate this single responsibility. I would remind us both that participating in the electoral process is not some kind of weird either-or with participating in decentralized community building and mutual aid, and the best people we know do both. Isn't it interesting that somehow, insidiously, without even consciously becoming aware of this belief, we have started to think that you can only do one or the other? Who is telling us that story? Who does it serve?

Anyway. I took the stupid 90 minute round trip to my polling place which was VERY hot for some reason and I stood in the stupid line and some babies waved at me and I cast my vote for Kamala Harris and I'm glad I did it in the same way I'm glad after I do the dishes or take a stupid shower. Doing work doesn't always feel like anything. I also saw a really wonderful small black and white dog that I thought was a cat on a leash. I would not have seen that dog if I hadn't gone to vote. So politics can still make you feel good!!!

*I mean all this analysis is cute and everything BUT ALSO i did switch antidepressants twice in the last year, an astonishingly grueling process that almost made me [affect the trout population]. Could these things be related? hmmmmmmm, don't understand the question, won't respond to it.

[smilesatdawnmain]

ETERNAL LMK AU (Part 4) (Interactive Story)

Had some close ties last part :3 But we have gone with "STAND YOUR GROUND AND FIGHT!"

Lets continue this tragic story, shall we~?

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

Story: Eternal

Ships: Shadowpeach

Angst: You betcha

Fluff: With enough choices, maybe we'll get there.

Macaque smacked their hands away from.

“No! I’m not going anywhere with you!” he shouted, adrenaline choking his words into a hoarse rasp. He tried to call upon his power, to manifest his staff from nothingness, but all that greeted him was a suffocating void where his shadow should have been. He never had a time in his life where he didn’t have his very essence beside him. More than just an ally in combat, it was a piece of himself. To no longer have it to draw from was bone chilling.

Still, he was not going to the Diyu. Not today, not anytime soon. With no other option, he rolled his hands into fists and held them up. He wasn’t completely defenseless without a weapon. He would fight in any means he needed to, teeth and claws included.

“Desperation doesn’t suit you, Liu’er,” the first figure replied, tilting their head with feigned pity. “You’re merely prolonging the inevitable. Denial only deepens the pit that cling to your soul.”

Macaque’s heart twisted painfully in his chest—if it still beat, he wondered. “You don’t understand! I have to—”

“Have to what?” the second figure interrupted, their voice smooth as silk yet laced with a chilling edge. “Have to stay connected to that which caused you so much pain? What are you, Liu’er? A martyr? A ghost bound by grief?”

“I’m not a ghost!” he yelled back, fury igniting within him against the encroaching cold and despair. He did not have to explain himself to these two. He did not have to make justification for his actions. His reasonings were his own. To be denied life simply because he wanted to bring his Mate home- it was unfair. It was nothing but an injustice! And he wanted to be sure his Mate knew that.

“No, I am not a martyr,” Macaque spat, trembling as the weight of his fragmented memories pressed down on him. “I’m a warrior. My fate is not up for anyone but myself to decide.”

The figures exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from mockery to something resembling interest. “Ah,” the first remarked, voice dripping with mock delight. Many had attempted and failed such similar feats. Too many tried to cheat or deny death, and all were quick to realize that there was no parting from it. Dragging another soul down by force was any typical Monday for them.

“Listen, fella,” one drawled, “I’d rather not play this game. You’ll fight us, we’ll overpower you, yada yada-but in the end, I'm afraid you’ll still lose.” The figure’s amusement made Macaque’s eyebrow twitch.

He squared his jaw and prepared himself for whatever they might conjure next. “You think you know my fate? You think you know me?” he retorted, a fierce gleam in his eyes.

The second figure, taller and clad in shadow that flickered like flames, took a step forward, a smirk playing on their lips. “Lets get this over with, hmm? It’ll be the talk of the Diyu when we bring you in. One of the four demon Stone Monkeys, the Six Eared Macaque, the mate of Sun Wukong. The man who avoids death like a plague- yet sent his own beloved there with his own two hands.”

Macaque’s skin prickled, his eyes widening in fury as he lunged.

His fingers clawed through the emptiness, aiming for the smirk that enflamed his rage further. The first figure merely sidestepped, maneuvering with a grace that belied their insidious nature. Mocking, teasing, then standing with utter stillness. Goading Macaque to even try to take a swing.

When Macaque did, his fist connected with the man’s jaw. Expecting the man to recoil, to react- his stomach dropped when the man only smirk. The attack hadn’t even jerked the man’s head back, as if Macaque's punch were a gentle breeze ruffling through his hair. “Is that all you have?” he taunted, rubbing the corner of his mouth with a deliberate slowness. “Such power wasted on a hallow spirit.”

With a flick of his wrist, the figure conjured a dark mist that wrapped around Macaque's limbs like serpents, constricting him, pinning him to the spot. The icy grasp snaked up to his neck, squeezing just enough to steal away his breath. Panic set in, and he thrashed against the bonds.

What power did a spirit have. Nothing without a form. Nothing without a body to command.

“No!” Macaque gasped, fighting against the shadows coiling tighter, each breath a battle. Desperation clawed at his chest like a wild animal seeking freedom, making him writhe. It couldn’t end like this—not here, not now. He needed to- he wanted- there was so much he hadn’t done. So much he hadn’t said.

As he twisted, his gaze caught Wukong. Only but a few steps away, legs crossed and back straight as he meditated. Unaware, uncaring- even if he could see him now, would he even help him? “I-!” he choked up. He was home. He didn't want to be taken from it. He didn't want to continue to be forced to leave his home due to the will of another.

He was scared. Terrified. Perhaps it was just a natural thing to fear death. To fear what you did not know. He feared the cold, the pain he might experience down there.

The isolation and the inevitable punishment they were bound to give him for attacking the Great Monk Tripitaka. He had accepted this fact at the time, so he supposed had no one but himself to blame but... but still...

And more than anything- Wukong.

Did he want to yell at Wukong? Stay with him? End things? Reconcile? He didn't know! But he at least wanted the time to figure it out!

So close. Right there... He was right there...

Previous

next;

[changeling-droneco]

And I don’t just mean this in a funny joking way, I’m dead serious. Chase it out of your spaces, if anyone in your circle starts talking about art they think should be banned, call them out for being a book burner, if someone tries to start a hate campaign on a trans woman who did the crime of having a kink be very open about how fucking weird that person trying to do it is. Actively mock people who could vote but didn’t or went third party, make it uncool to have black and white thinking.

Make it uncomfortable for people to try and talk purity in fan culture, don’t let them sea lion or try and turn away, call them cops, treat it like the invasion of privacy it is, read those books people want banned. Report people who send hate or spam tags. No mercy, no quarter.

Make it unpopular, openly roll your eyes at people who have 20 paragraph rainbow uwu dni banners. Don’t cower or justify, speak plainly that yeah, you do read that kind of story, why do you care? Why are you so interested in my sex life? Why are you invading my privacy? Make them seem like the weirdo cop who’s causing problems because they are! Don’t downplay yourself, be firm about your understanding about the differences between fiction and reality, about your beliefs on the lesser evil. Ask the questions youve been too polite to ask when confronted, openly point out hypocrisy.

Hell! Report worse offenders to actual organizations, if you know someone is an adult in anti or other kinds of purity circles, more closely look into what they’re doing and potentially be ready to report them for grooming kids because a lot of “safe adults” are actively sending kids porn. Go into their discord groups where they organize hate and report them for harassment and report users for sexual abuse. Hell, tell on those kids to their parents or authorities, contact that highschooler’s school with concerns.

Talk to your kids if you have to and make sure they understand this and if they start showing unusual purity obsessed behaviors get them to a therapist or professional asap. Talk to your friends who start leaning that way and make it clear you’re worried for them, treat it like you just got told they’re becoming interested in Scientology or some other cult, because it’s very much a cult. Like, it followed BITE near perfectly, purity culture is a cult.

Don’t beat yourself up for your failures as well, embrace that you are a sweaty animal who does weird things or likes unusual things and sometimes can’t do things, push back against the idea that you have to be pure and always have the Correct opinion, be wrong! Openly admit to being wrong! Be open about your mistakes! Allow yourself to step away from the discourse of the day and firmly state that you don’t need to fight whatever the internet has chosen as its battle ground and that this doesn’t make you a bad person.

People with purity complexes should not be allowed to yell their way into authority in fandom, and it’a getting to a point where we have multiple reports of it grooming young teens into situations where they end up in cult deprogramming. Purity Culture can’t just be ignored or blocked anymore, not when we have leftists cheering for fucking TRUMP because Harris wasn’t perfect, it’s out of hands, and it’s putting everything at fucking risk.

Stop playing nice, stop being the better person who just ignore and blocks and go “dude, you sound like a perverted cop” and then report them for sexual harassment. no more, im done with trying to play nice and stay in my own space, I’m calling you fancop, I’m calling you a swerf. I am done.

We are done pretending that fanfiction causes incest or rape or whatever when fucking game of thrones exist and got like five seasons, we are done pretending that fictions effect on reality is 1 to 1, we are done pretending that propaganda is overt blatant mind control and also a 5 kudosed fic on ao3. We are done acting like tweeting the correct opinion counts as activism and that anyone not doing that is a monster. No more indulging in trying to explain the nuances, no more pretending they care about the nuances. Be blunt about the fact they want to hurt people, make it blunt that they are bullies. Make it fucking weird and to hold those objectively untrue beliefs, make fun of them for sleeping through English class, treat it like fandom flat earth. It’s not true, none of it was ever true, it came out of fucking ship wars.

Maybe this is putting too much blame on purity culture, but you know what? I’m done caring, not when it’s groomed basically an entire generation to be okay with mob violence and the idea that you can put a quantifiable percentage of “good” to a person, that there is an objective good and bad side and that it is okay to do crimes against humanity if it’s the “bad side”, because it’s getting people killed, it’s ruining lives, and its starting to literally help destroy democracy.

Enough.

Honestly I think this has been a sign that we no longer need to try and tolerate or ignore purity culture, but that shit needs a hard stop now. I fully blame it as being one of the causes for the intense growing black and white thinking in a lot of youth or young adult spaces that prevents meaningful change or to take actions that help even if they aren’t perfectly pure

[witheredgardenparty]

I will never forgive a single one of you

[creed-of-cats]

The amount of doomerism I've heard from fellow usamericn zoomers/millennials around me is starting to drive me fucking insane.

"We're all gonna die, it's hopeless, it's not worth doing anything. This is our penance as human beings/[insert other guilty identity]"

You know who you guys fucking sound like? Fucking Evangelicals.

Yeah it's fucking scary and big, I'm not trying to say it isn't. But what the fuck is your plan??? Sitting down and dying?? Are you really telling me that this world is not worth you even fucking trying?? That you're just gonna party it out until your miscellaneous end game apocalypse arrives?

This isn't the rapture. The apocalypse is a false concept. People have been living through "apocalypses" every day of their fucking lives for all of human history, especially during the past 400 years. Get up and stop the suicidal idealization of your own tragic death. Our lives in the first world are built off suffering. To lay down and say we don't have any power is to reject the duty we have as beneficiaries of that suffering.

If you are so convinced you're going to die young then die trying instead of baring your fucking throat.

[coolpeanutmiracle20]

people who are saying they won't vote are pissing me off. stop with your holier than thou bullshit. "im not supporting a genocide" so you're gonna throw away your vote to risk MORE genocides????? 😭😭😭 be so fr rn yall forgetting trump wants russia to get ukraine AS WELL as israel getting palestine. and you KNOW that if russia gets ukraine theyre gonna try and get the gang back together. trump doesn't give a shit what wars he causes as long as he has power. would you rather war in the middle east or war in the middle east AS WELL AS war in europe? stop being so pretentious and use your fucking vote. unless youre gonna start a revolution or some shit which i welcome but it seems like nobody cares about anything tangible and you all sit behind your computer screens acting like you're so much better than everyone else for abstaining from voting. you're not cool for enabling a fascist power-hungry, warmongering madman.

and no this does not mean you aren't allowed to criticise harris. nobody is saying that. criticise her, vote for her and then criticise her more. call your local members. just do something other than nothing.

[appocalipse]

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

[san8ny]

CamGirl! Ellie

“How...” You trail off as you view the poll in disbelief, setting the brightness of your monitor up in an effort to re-read the winners of your next collaboration,

Ellie Williams had won by a landslide over Abby Anderson.

How was that even fuckin’ possible, i mean, it was practically unheard of in the field of camming; a rookie like Williams beating a veteran like Anderson out.

You prop a fuzzy sock-clad foot on your desk as you lean back in your streaming chair, the viewers going absolutely insane at the chance of a collab with Ellie Williams now becoming a reality. You simply couldn’t help the amusement that began to simmer in your manner.

“Well..I did promise you all, didn’t I?” You flash a pearly smile, looking back at your camera as the thousands of comments roll in,

@Ilovesluts1: LETS GOOOOO!

@Abbys3xual: made like a bajillion accounts to vote for abby smh :/

@EWismyreligion: bro sm1 tag me when its starts next week

@AbbyAnderson: aw, dont seem so down, ill get em next time

@FuckSuckGo: ░PUSSY░IN░BIO░

Skimming through them, you slightly tilt your head at the viewer count, “Mm, we’re past our usual viewership number, are you all that excited to see me get fucked?” Your laugh coming out a bit airy as you slowly begin to unzip the large hoodie you had on, top set of teeth brushing against your bottom lip, “Now that you’ve got something fun to look forward to, let’s get back on our usual schedule.”

Meanwhile, Ellie was laying in bed, laptop propped up on her thighs as she watches your stream in antcipation on her alt. Poor girl had practically chewed her nailbeds down to nothing as she hears you talk about her for the first time in that sultry voice you had; Ellie practically worshipped the ground you walked on- hell, you were the one to even get into her camming.

She first came across your sfw gaming account, thinking you were a fresh breath of air. You had good humor, seemed down to earth and you were beautiful as hell.

Couple of weeks later, you mention in a ‘StarDew Valley’ stream how your other account got flagged for the influx of subscribers you were obtaining, the streaming platform mistaking them for bots. You were just that good, and Ellie didn’t need any further convincing before finding the paywalled account and sprinting to her coat, fishing out the credit card.

Safe to say she quickly became one of your top donators in just a couple of days, the comments talking amongst themselves of just who ‘User1009’ could be, and the hefty amount of money being sent in a single sitting; you didn’t really bat an eye all that much as you were pretty use to it, but upon reading the comments, you smiled; “Guess i’m well liked?”

shortly after, the system text-to-speech alert sounds:

@User1009 has sent a donation of 3000USD with a note attached:- More than you know :)

Ellie was ensnared in your trap. She worked a regular 9-5, she wasn’t under a hot-shot label like you when she cammed in the little to no free time she had, instead, opting to freelance with little 5 minute amateur videos.

Though, it’s her toned body and music-like moans that gets her quickly climbing in the ranks, the platform practically becoming infatuated with the quick strokes of Ellie’s wrist when she’s pumping a sleek toy inside of her, or the risk of her being caught in the very public areas she performes said acts in. She was a thrill, and had everyone tuned in.

Even you, as you probe your mouse around her offical account in your dim-lit room, trying to see just who would be bending you over.

“She’s cute..” You mutter as you click on one of the more clearer videos, heat quickly consuming you as her slicked pussy comes into camera-view, long slender olive-toned fingers pistoning in and out of her swollen cunt aggressively as she chases an orgasm, before slowly removing them and demonstrating how her cum webs inbetween digits, some cascading down her wrist before the video cuts.

And for the first time in some weeks, you catch yourself actually feeling excited as you rub your thighs together.

Not just for the clicks and money either..but for some girl on the internet.

Hey, i dont rlly know if you’d be okay with this but..r u down for a vid tgtr? my fans rlly like u but ik u dont do collabs lol (sent at 11:36pm)

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Meaningful Kiss 2

SUMMARY: Would they make Public Displays of Affection? If not, are they protective instead? And how do they show you how much they truly love you through their kisses? 💋

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Romantic Relationship; Kissing; Flirting

WARNING: Spoilers from Ace Suitor Suit Card Vignettes

WORD COUNT: An average of 330 words per character.

COMMENTS: The first Meaningful Kiss with the Overblot Students went so well and so many people liked it that I thought about doing another one with the next most popular group, the Freshmen. And according to a poll more than 80% of the votes were for "OMG! YES PLEASE!" So here it is.

I hope you all enjoy 😘

Meaningful Kiss 3 (Ruggie, Jade, Kalim, Silver, Lilia)

Meaningful Kiss 4 (Cater, Trey, Floyd, Rook)

CONTEXT: For some of them I needed to think first about what the beginning of the relationship would be like. But this would already be how they would act in an established relationship.

Ace is kinda into PDA, but more to tease you and mess with you. He is very comfortable with you. He has no problem putting his arm around your shoulders or waist with a playful smile. Often to try to convince you not to be the voice of reason and join him in trouble.

In public he may hug you a lot, but the only kisses he gives you are on the forehead or cheek. Because on the lips, those are the special ones! And those are reserved for your private moments.

You two are usually alone in Ramshackle Dorm, mainly in the Lounge. You would have many movie sessions where you would make popcorn and snacks together. And it is in these moments, where there is a high chance of you messing with each other, like throwing flour at each other or smearing each other's noses with chocolate, that his most meaningful kisses can happen. In a fun atmosphere.

His most meaningful kisses are playful and grateful. He hugs you like he never wants to lose you. His kisses are passionate, not in a sense of desire, but in a sense of gratitude. You know those moments when something happens that makes a person remember why they love someone else? These are those moments and those kisses. These kisses mean "thank you for being in my life".

However, there are also certain other times when kisses like this can happen. Imagine him getting into trouble and you ending up in trouble too. But of course, instead of handing Ace over, you protect him, help him hide or even hide with him. It is in these moments that you can also receive a passionate kiss from him. “Thank you for being my partner in crime” kisses.

Deuce is very new to these things, so he's not a fan of PDA. But even when he's gotten used to your relationship, he doesn't see PDA as something necessary. You love each other and you only need to prove that to each other.

BUT if you really like it when he hugs you or gives you a kiss on the cheek, he might do it for you. On the lips, those are the special ones and he is very embarrassed to give them to you in public because he needs to be comfortable to kiss you properly.

At first, he will still get flustered easily and probably blush a lot. It's all very new to him. So, even holding your hand will take a little while for him to get used to it. But once enough time has passed, he won't have any problems even linking his arm with you. And also given enough time, he will start to be that boyfriend who gives you a kiss on the cheek every time he greets you and every time he says goodbye.

For his most meaningful kisses there will be special places. Places where he will take you on his Blastcycle (Magical Wheel). If he takes you on a date. These kisses can also happen in sporadic moments where he feels so happy to have you that he forgets everything else.

His kisses are passionate, urgent, like it's something he needs to give you. You know when he gets so angry that his ex-delinquent self shows up? Now think about that intensity and lack of control, but with love and affection. He is more sentimental than rational, so I believe he is the type of person who is not ashamed to tell the people closest to him how important they are. And he won't think twice to decide whether to show you how much he loves you or not in a romantic moment.

Jack tries not to do PDA, or at least he tried more in the beginning. It's all still very new to him and he knows that you are his partner for life, so there is plenty of time to get used to the relationship.

Wolf beastmen only have one special someone, ever. They choose a single partner to care for. He chose you, the same way you chose him and now he is committed to you for life. And both he and you expect this to be a long time, so there's no need to rush anything.

He's not much into PDA, but eventually he'll feel more comfortable holding hands with you or letting you link your arm through his. At first, any kiss was still awkward in public, but after a while he ended up having no problem giving you a quick kiss on the cheek if you asked, or if he was very happy. And only some time after this phase, he will feel more comfortable giving you a quick kiss on the lips, usually to say goodbye.

Why are all his kisses in public quick? Because the slow ones are the private ones. Despite his tough wolf exterior, with you, especially in private, he can be a puppy. Rare are the times when he isn’t wagging his tail when he's with you. Or smiling, even if it's just a little. He likes to cuddle! The best moments alone with you are when you can rest in each other's arms. You can pet him. Please do.

He gives you sweet, light and lingering kisses on your cheeks and lips, but the most meaningful ones are a mix of gentleness and excitement. Do you know when dogs are so happy that they get excited? Think of that excitement, but gentler, more caring, more careful. He wants to show you how much he loves you, but he is also aware of his strength and that you are a human, less strong than a beastman/woman.

Being faithful to the character and his complexes, I don't believe Epel would have a relationship with someone more masculine than himself. So I believe his significant other would be more feminine than him or a girl.

If you're not a girl, it might take longer for him to get to this stage. But if you are, at first he may see you as a bit of a trophy, just a little. You will find him more cocky than usual and he won't have any problems with PDA, quite the opposite, he wants to show everyone your relationship. He'll put his arm around you a lot, whether it's around your shoulders or your waist. He'll try to get over the fact that you're taller than him if you are, but if you're shorter, he might feel like the protective boyfriend he so wants to be.

It will be a rocky start. And you will have to have a talk with him about the sudden change in attitude towards you. He will apologize a lot and reveal that yes, he is proud of himself for being in a relationship with you, because he is proud to be someone you can trust and fall in love with. The last thing he wants is to be disrespectful to you. This is still new for him, so can you help him be better?

After this beginning of learning, you will discover that yes, he genuinely likes PDA. He is a prideful person. Proud of himself for the person he is becoming with you and proud of you for... everything. And he wants to show everyone how much you deserve his affection.

He can hold your hand, hug you, and give you kisses on the cheek, but kisses on the lips are special, and less confident, at least at first. He has no experience and he doesn't want to ruin the moment. But once he gets used to it, you'll find that his kisses are just as sweet, cute and delicate as the appearance he's learning to embrace.

Good Luck! Sebek is... intense, but slow. Especially because he follows Lilia's “advices” too much. According to Lilia, once he falls in love with someone, he must pen them a letter. With a fountain pen since that and stationery are the true weapons in matters of love. He shall pen his feelings, slip a photo of his smiling visage into every third missive, and repeat this until the twenty-fifth full moon.

Of course you won't be able to bear this for long and you'll have to have a talk with him and Lilia. He’ll ask Lilia what to do from now on, and seeing that things are real now, he'll probably just reply: "Whatever you feel you should do. Trust your heart, but never overlapping yours with (Y/N)’s. That's it! Good luck."

Just like he does with Malleus, Sebek's way of showing that he likes someone is by admiring and protecting them. So, at first it will be just that, he will be close to you and you will receive many words of affirmation.

However, even after he becomes more comfortable with you, you will find that he is indifferent to PDA. At least PDA initiated by him. But if you say you want to hold hands, a hug, a kiss, whatever it is, your wishes are orders! Literally!

In that case, he will never have any problem doing any of the things you ask. Do you want to walk hand in hand? He will extend his hand like a gentleman asking his date to dance. Do you want a hug? He'll open his arms and let you in, maybe even give you a kiss on the forehead if you're feeling down.

Do you want a kiss? What kind of kiss? On the forehead? Granted! On the cheek? For sure! On the lips? Then you have to be careful. Remember that he never hides how much he likes and admires someone. He doesn't exactly have one kiss more special than the other. he will give you any kind of kiss you wish. Like I said, your wishes are orders and you will feel it in his kisses. His most meaningful kisses are all, because they are all to make you happy.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[mononijikayu]

strip poker — gojo satoru.

You leaned in a little closer, your voice dropping just enough for only him to hear. “Alright, Gojo Satoru. Since you’re so persistent… How about we make this interesting?”  He raised an eyebrow, a playful grin forming on his lips. “Oh? I’m listening to you, doll.” he replied, clearly intrigued by whatever you had in mind. You took a sip of your drink, letting the silence hang between you for a moment, watching as his eyes remained locked on yours, his curiosity practically radiating off him. “Strip poker.” you said finally, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Just you and me. What do you say?”

WARNING/s: NSFW (R18+), Fluff, Romance, Love at First Sight, Strangers to Lovers, Pet Names (Doll, Boy, Baby, Etc), Profanity, Stripping Clothes, Oral Sex, Fingering, P to V Sex, Kissing, Making Out, Humor, Flirting, Teasing, Mention of Stripping, Mention of Body Parts, Mention of Sexual Acts, Mention of Alcohol, Depiction of Sexual Acts, Depiction of Nudity, Depiction of Alcoholic Beverage;

WORDS: 7.8k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: lately a lot of my works were really long, so i realized people need a refreshing thing from me than my long story formats. i thought about this during a writing block and i just thought that maybe, satoru would be the type to enjoy something like this, you know? and i think shoko and suguru would just try to make gojo greet all the guests and he'll be pouty. unless its reader, because reader is loved by gojo a lot (he just met you at this party) but anyway, if i posted this, it means the majority poll meant gojo won. but anyway i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all~ 🫶

ADDENDUM: with an hour left in the vote and the gap being wide — gojo does win 🙂‍↕️

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if you want to, tip! <3

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

HE WAS LOOKING FOR SOMETHING EXCITING. Gojo Satoru leaned against the doorway, his drink swirling lazily in his hand, the dim light of the room casting playful shadows across his face. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see everything and nothing at once, were fixed on you. You were standing with Shoko and Suguru, laughing at some private joke, and he couldn't help but wonder how he had never noticed you before.

It was strange. He knew everyone worth knowing, especially those who moved in Shoko's and Suguru's circles. But you... you were different. Your laughter was genuine, your smile bright, and there was a certain ease to the way you carried yourself—a confidence that wasn’t showy but quietly powerful, drawing people in without even trying.

As you spoke, he watched the way your lips curved into a grin, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief. He could see that Suguru was captivated, leaning in to listen more closely, while Shoko rolled her eyes with a fond smile that suggested she was used to whatever game you were playing. Satoru couldn't quite hear what you were saying from where he stood, but he caught snippets of your voice, warm and inviting, tinged with a teasing edge that piqued his curiosity even more.

"How is it," he muttered to himself, "that someone like you has managed to slip under my radar?"

He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering, trying to piece together the puzzle that was you. Maybe you were new to their circle, or perhaps you had always been there, hidden in plain sight, and he just hadn’t been paying close enough attention. Either way, he was intrigued, and that wasn't something that happened often.

When Shoko glanced over and caught his eye, she raised an eyebrow, smirking as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. He gave her a playful wink in response, but his attention quickly returned to you.

Suguru, noticing the shift in focus, turned and followed Shoko's gaze, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Satoru, come here." he called out, motioning for him to join. "Why are you lurking over there like a ghost at a party? Come say hi."

Satoru grinned and pushed himself off the doorframe, making his way over with a casual, easy stride. "I wouldn’t call it lurking, Suguboo." he said, slipping effortlessly into the group, his gaze still locked on you. "Just... observing."

You turned to face him fully, and for the first time, he felt the full force of your presence. Up close, you were even more intriguing—eyes bright and challenging, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Observing, huh?" you echoed, clearly amused. "Is that what they’re calling it these days?"

His grin widened, loving the way you didn’t shrink under his scrutiny but seemed to meet it head-on. "Well, you know, doll." he replied smoothly, "I like to get a feel for things before diving in."

Shoko snorted softly, rolling her eyes. "Translation: he likes to watch before he pounces."

"Careful, Satoru." Suguru added with a chuckle. "You’re starting to sound like a creep."

Satoru laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Maybe I am, Maybe I’m not." he admitted, his gaze still fixed on you. "But I like to have some good surprises for the interesting ones."

Your smile widened, clearly enjoying the attention, and you leaned in slightly, closing the distance between you. "So, am I interesting to you, Gojo?"

He felt a spark of electricity at the way you said his name, the way it rolled off your tongue like you’d known him for years. “Oh, definitely.” he replied, his voice dropping to a low, playful drawl. “Interesting enough to make me wonder how I've missed you all this time.”

You laughed softly, a sound that sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. “Maybe you just weren’t looking hard enough.” you teased him. “Maybe you need to have a better look, don’t you think?”

He leaned in closer, his smile turning sly. “Oh, I’m looking now.”

There was a beat of silence, charged with unspoken words and possibilities, and Satoru could feel the air between you crackle with an almost tangible energy. He was used to this game, the dance of flirtation, but there was something about you that felt different—like you were two steps ahead of him, and he was enjoying every second of trying to catch up.

“Let’s see if you can keep up.” you said, your eyes glinting with challenge. “Because I’m not that easy to catch, Gojo.”

His grin widened, excitement bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, I do love a challenge, doll.” he murmured, taking another sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “And trust me, I’m very persistent when I sense something good for me.”

“Then am I good for you?” You grinned at him, eyes full of amusement.

He returned your grin. “Why, the moment I saw you, doll — you were good for me and all of my lifetimes.”

Suguru and Shoko exchanged glances, their amusement clear as they observed the growing tension between you and Satoru. Shoko's eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama, while Suguru's smirk spoke of his own quiet amusement at the game Satoru was now fully immersed in. They didn’t need to say a word; their silent communication conveyed everything—this was going to be entertaining.

Satoru, however, was oblivious to their silent exchange. His focus was entirely on you, his mind buzzing with possibilities. The playful challenge you’d just thrown at him had ignited a spark of curiosity and interest that he couldn’t ignore. As he watched you, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief and your smile held a promise of excitement, he found himself drawn in even more.

You leaned in a little closer, your voice dropping just enough for only him to hear. “Alright, Gojo since you’re so persistent… How about we make this interesting?” 

He raised an eyebrow, a playful grin forming on his lips. “Oh? I’m listening to you, doll.” he replied, clearly intrigued by whatever you had in mind.

You took a sip of your drink, letting the silence hang between you for a moment, watching as his eyes remained locked on yours, his curiosity practically radiating off him. “Strip poker.” you said finally, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Just you and me. What do you say?”

"Are you serious?" Satoru chuckled, his grin spreading wide across his face. The light overhead cast a gleam on his white hair, making him look even more striking under the dim glow of the room. 

"Dead serious, darling." you replied, eyes glinting with a playful challenge. "Unless, of course, the great Gojo Satoru is afraid of a little game."

His grin only widened at the bait. "Afraid? Not exactly my style. But I've got to admit, it's not every day someone proposes strip poker to me the first time we meet." He took a sip from his drink, eyes never leaving yours, scanning for any sign of bluff or mischief.

You shrugged, leaning against the table with an easy confidence that only intrigued him more. "What can I say? I like to keep things interesting. And you looked like you could use a little excitement."

He laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. "So, what's the catch? I lose, and you get a fun little story to tell your friends? Or do I win, and...?"

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Who says I intend to lose? Besides, winning isn't everything. It's the fun in between, Satoru."

He blinked at the use of his first name, a small surprise evident in his expression. Most people would hesitate to use it so casually, but coming from you, it felt oddly natural—like it had always been meant to be spoken by you. There was something about the way you said it, with that hint of mischief and confidence, that made it feel less like an invasion of personal space and more like an intimate invitation.

For a moment, Satoru’s gaze flickered around the room. It was then that he realized Shoko and Suguru had somehow vanished. The two had a knack for disappearing at precisely the right moment, leaving him in a situation that was both intriguing and precarious. Typical of them, really. They always seemed to know exactly when to make their exit, leaving him to fend for himself in whatever delightful predicament they had orchestrated.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he looked back at you, his eyes twinkling with both amusement and a hint of challenge. “Well, it looks like we’re on our own.” he said, his tone light but laced with a playful edge. “I suppose that means we get to make our own rules now.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the turn of events. “Seems like it, glasses.” you replied, your voice smooth and teasing. “So, what do you say?”

He grinned, the playful glint in his eyes growing stronger. “I think we should make the most of this opportunity, doll. Let’s not waste time,” he said, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “After all, it’s not every day I get to have a game of strip poker with someone as intriguing as you.”

His words were laced with a mix of flirtation and eagerness, his tone smooth and inviting. The term “doll” came out with a casual intimacy, making the moment feel even more charged. You could feel the heat between you intensify as he closed the distance, his presence commanding and electrifying.

You met his gaze with a confident smile, your heart racing a little faster. “Alright, Gojo.” you replied, your voice low and sultry. He pouts. You returned to calling him by his last name. You liked teasing him, he thinks. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“You better watch it, doll.” he said, setting his drink down and crossing his arms over his chest, still grinning. “I’ll bite. Let’s play. But don’t expect me to go easy on you. And don’t think for a second that I’ll be the one taking off anything first.” 

You laughed, a sound that made him feel strangely lighter, more at ease. “Oh, I’m counting on it.” you said, your voice full of playful confidence.

His grin widened, the challenge lighting up his expression. “You’re so interesting, doll.” He chuckled, clearly delighted. “Where have you been all my life?”

You tilted your head slightly, enjoying the way his words seemed to both flatter and intrigue. “Well, you know….” you replied, your tone teasing. “Maybe I’ve been waiting for the right moment to make an entrance. And tonight, it looks like the stars finally aligned.”

Satoru’s eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity and admiration. “I have to say, I’m glad they did, doll.” he said, leaning in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Because you’ve definitely made this night unforgettable.”

“You’re quite the flirt.” 

“Gotta shoot all the shots to win, doll.” He winks at you.

You shrugged, your smile teasing. “Well, you say this now….but you’ll lose to me too.” 

He laughed, a carefree, confident sound that made Shoko and Suguru glance over with a raised eyebrow from a distant space. “Oh, I never lose.” he replied, leaning closer, his voice a low, tempting drawl. “Especially not when there’s something I really want.”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin didn’t fade. “Then prove it.” you said, nodding toward a quieter, dimly lit room down the hall. “Let’s go.”

Satoru, for his part, didn’t hesitate. He set his drink down with a casual flick of his wrist, his bright cerulean eyes still locked on yours as he pushed off the wall. He reached out and took your hand, his grip warm and confident.

“Lead the way, doll.” he said, his voice dripping with playful challenge.

You felt a rush of excitement at his quick agreement, and you couldn’t help but grin. You felt a thrill of excitement as you led him down the hall, the dim lighting casting soft shadows and adding an air of intimacy to the moment. With every step, the noise of the party grew more distant, replaced by the soft thrum of your heartbeat and the electric tension between you.

As you reached the door to the quieter room, you glanced back at him, a teasing smile playing on your lips. Gojo Satoru’s gaze was unwavering, his bright eyes reflecting a mixture of anticipation and admiration. He could feel the adrenaline in him. This was exciting. And he liked it. He liked you.

You pushed open the door, revealing a cozy, dimly lit space that felt almost like a secret hideaway. The room was furnished simply but comfortably, with a plush carpet and a few scattered cushions. It was the perfect setting for the game you had in mind.

He looked around, a playful smirk still on his face. “Alright, doll.” he said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You grabbed a deck of cards from a nearby table, shuffling them with a practiced ease. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, Gojo.” you teased, dealing the cards out between you.

Satoru sat opposite you, his posture relaxed, but his gaze was intense, locked onto you with an almost predatory focus. “I think I’ll take my chances, doll.” he replied smoothly. “And please, call me Satoru. Gojo is too formal for your gorgeous lips to mouth.”

You smiled, enjoying the tension that hung thick in the air between you, the game already beginning before a single card was played. "Alright then, Satoru." you said, your voice dripping with anticipation. "Let’s see who’s getting undressed first."

He chuckled, picking up his cards and leaning back comfortably. “Oh, it’s on now.” 

And just like that, the game was set—a battle of wits, charm, and maybe something more.

You watched as his long legs folded with a graceful ease that didn’t quite match the competitive glint in his cocky blue eyes. He grabbed a deck of cards from a nearby table, his movements fluid, almost theatrical as he shuffled with deft, experienced hands.

You sat across from him, the distance between you feeling both vast and electric, like an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. The way you held his gaze, unwavering and unyielding, only made Gojo Satoru more intrigued. He wasn’t used to people looking at him like that—like he was just another person in the room, not just some role people fit upon him or a man with a reputation that preceded him.

“So, doll….” he began, dealing out the first hand with a practiced flick of his wrist. “How do you know Shoko and Suguru? And why haven't we met before tonight?”

You picked up your cards, smiling slyly. “Oh, I’m sure they’ve mentioned me. I’m just good at staying under the radar… when I want to.” 

He leaned back, considering your words. “Mysterious. I like that. But I'm pretty good at picking up on secrets. Better watch out.”

You chuckled softly. “I think I’ll take my chances.” 

The game began, and with each round, you both played with a mix of strategy and daring. He tried to read you, his eyes narrowing whenever you made a bold move, but you held your own, bluffing with an expertise that surprised him. His usual smug grin faltered slightly, and you could tell he was trying to decipher the mystery in your gaze. The room seemed to shrink with the tension between you, each card dealt heightening the stakes.

Satoru leaned forward, his gaze never leaving your face, a playful yet challenging spark in his eyes. “You’re a lot harder to read than I thought.” he murmured, the corner of his mouth curling upward in amusement. “But I like a good mystery.” 

You smirked in response, feeling the heat of his stare, knowing he was trying to unravel you with every glance, but determined to keep him guessing. You were sure that soon enough, a pile of discarded clothing would grow between you steadily. But so far, there has been little, with your little ties. All you had removed were little, like a hair tie or a necktie. 

You agreed it was still part of clothes. But then again, you just both wanted it to last a little longer. One after the other though was tossed aside with a flick of your wrist or a slow, deliberate grin from him, marking the razor's edge between victory and defeat. 

The room little by little crackled with tension, the air thick with challenge and heat, and every turn of a card seemed to bring you closer, like magnets drawn together by an irresistible force. The game had become something more than a little fun thing — it was a dance with a Russian roulette where every bluff was a whispered confession, every raise a daring promise. 

Your pulse quickened with every sly smile he threw your way, every calculated tilt of his head, and his eyes bore into yours, gleaming with a hunger that was impossible to ignore. The stakes climbed higher with every move, the line between a win and a loss blurring into something electric, something tantalizingly close to dangerous. 

You could feel it in your bones — this was no longer just about cards or luck; it was about who would yield first, who would surrender to the inevitable tension simmering in the space between your bodies. And you like winning. But so did he. Winning was after all, a different sort of drug to be enjoyed.

Neither of you spoke, but the room was filled with a silent conversation, an exchange of glances and gestures that spoke volumes. The game wasn’t just about winning — it was about who could push the other further, who could tease out the truth hidden behind those guarded eyes. Neither of you wanted to lose, not when the real prize was so tantalizingly close. And as another card fell, you knew this was only the beginning.

"You're not bad, doll." he admitted, his shirt still firmly on but with a hint of pink on his cheeks, likely from the alcohol. “But I’ve been known to turn the tables.”

“I wouldn’t have suggested this game if I didn’t think I could win, Satoru.” you replied confidently, leaning forward. The playful spark in your eyes never left, and it only seemed to fuel Satoru’s competitive spirit further.

Round after round, pieces of clothing slowly came off. A shoe here, a sock there. He was still confident, leaning in closer as he laid down another hand. "Full house." he declared, his grin downright wicked now.

You glanced at his cards, then backed up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Nice." you said, sounding impressed, before laying your cards down with a flourish. "Straight flush."

He blinked, then laughed—a genuine, delighted laugh that came from deep in his chest. "No way! You little—"

“Looks like someone’s going to lose a little more than just their pride, Satoru.” you teased, enjoying the way his grin faltered for a moment, his confidence taking a tiny, amusing dip.

He leaned back in his chair, pretending to think deeply, then slowly began to unbutton his shirt. “Alright, alright. I’m a man of my word, doll.” he conceded, though his eyes never left yours, sparkling with mischief. “But don’t get too comfortable. The game’s not over yet.”

As he shrugged out of his shirt, you found yourself momentarily distracted by the unexpected sight—his lean, toned frame catching the dim light. Satoru noticed, his smile turning sly. “See something you like?” 

You shrugged, keeping your expression neutral. "Just waiting for my next win."

He laughed again, a sound that seemed to fill the room, light and unburdened. “Oh, this is really crazy. I like that.” he murmured, leaning in closer, his voice dropping slightly. “I like you.”

You raise your glass, meeting his gaze with a bold smile. "The feeling might be mutual, but don't think for a second that means I'm letting you win."

For the first time in a while, Gojo Satoru felt a genuine thrill that had nothing to do with curses or danger. Just the electric spark of a moment, a challenge, and the intriguing mystery of the person sitting across from him, daring him to come closer.

The game continued on, the air thick with anticipation, each round upping the stakes. Satoru was completely absorbed now, his usual nonchalant demeanor replaced with focused intensity. For every card dealt, every sly smile exchanged, he found himself more drawn into this unexpected encounter. 

As the rounds progressed, it became increasingly clear that you were holding your own. The playful banter between the two of you had turned into something sharper, more personal. It wasn't just a game anymore; it was a test—a test of wills, of understanding, of reading between the lines of every look and laugh.

Satoru tossed his next set of cards on the table. "Three of a kind." he said, tapping his fingers lightly against the table, eyes flickering with amusement. "Not my best, but not bad."

You looked down at your own hand, considering your options. "Hmm…." you hummed, tapping your chin thoughtfully before placing your cards down. "Four of a kind."

His mouth fell open in exaggerated shock. "No way! You’re cheating!” 

You laughed, a carefree sound that seemed to light up the room. "Maybe you just need to step up your game, Gojo Satoru."

He tilted his head, pretending to look hurt, but his smile was as bright as ever. “Oh, I see how it is. You're trying to humble me. I can't let that happen. I have a reputation to uphold.”

He reached for his belt, starting to unbuckle it with deliberate slowness, making a show of every movement. "You really want to play with fire, huh?" he teased, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. "Careful, you might get burned."

You met his gaze head-on, your smile never wavering. "I think I can handle the heat."

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re something else, you know that?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, close enough that you could feel the faint brush of his energy, his presence suddenly more intense. “But I’ve got a feeling you’re not here just for a game, are you?”

Your eyes sparkled, the corners of your lips curling up just slightly. “Maybe I’m here to see what all the fuss is about. People talk about you, you know… like you’re this untouchable legend.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest with a playful smirk. “And what do they say?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Oh, you know… that you’re the strongest, the smartest, the most arrogant—”

“Hey!” he interrupted, laughing. “I’m not that arrogant… just very self-aware.”

You laughed too, feeling the tension between you soften into something warmer, more familiar. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

His grin widened. "You think I’m a show-off, huh?”

“I think,” you said slowly, leaning in just a little closer, “that you like being the center of attention. And I think you’re not used to people seeing through that.”

Satoru blinked, the playful glint in his eyes dimming just slightly, replaced by something more genuine, more intrigued. “And what do you see when you look at me?”

You paused, considering your answer, letting the silence stretch just long enough to keep him guessing. “I see someone who likes to keep people at a distance. Someone who hides a lot behind that smile.”

He tilted his head, his expression softer now, almost contemplative. “And you think you know what I’m hiding?”

You shrugged. “Not yet. But I think you might want someone to try and figure it out.”

For a moment, he was quiet, watching you with those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see everything and yet reveal nothing. Then, slowly, he smiled—a softer, more sincere smile than before. “Maybe I do.”

The tension in the room shifted again, this time to something less tangible, a mix of curiosity and possibility hanging in the air between you. The game had become secondary; it was clear now that something deeper was at play. Satoru leaned back, his grin returning, though his eyes were still searching for yours.

“Alright, doll.” he said, voice vibrant and light. “One more hand. Winner takes all.”

“All?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow. “And what exactly is ‘all,’ Satoru?”

He leaned forward again, his smile turning mischievous. “That’s the fun part—we get to decide. Maybe it’s another game. Maybe it’s just a walk under the stars. Or maybe…”

“Maybe?” you prompted, leaning in as well, feeling the pull between you tighten.

“Maybe, doll….” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper now, “it’s just finding out who you really are, and why you make me feel like I’ve met you before, even though I’m sure I haven’t.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected honesty in his words. This was not the Gojo Satoru you’d expected, not quite. But maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something neither of you had anticipated.

“Deal.” you said finally, holding out your hand for him to shake.

He took it, his grip warm and firm. “Deal.”

You felt the warmth of his hand linger longer than necessary, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. Neither of you pulled away, your hands still clasped together, as if testing each other’s resolve.

“Are you trying to distract me?” you teased, but your voice came out softer than you intended, betraying the flutter of anticipation building in your chest.

Satoru’s smile widened, a hint of something darker and more thrilling sparking in his eyes. “Is it working?” he asked, his voice low and velvety, closer now, his breath brushing against your skin.

You held his gaze, feeling the air between you grow thick with tension, the kind that made your pulse quicken. “Maybe a little.” you admitted, and his grin grew even more wicked.

He didn’t release your hand, instead using it to pull you closer across the small table, until you were only inches apart. “Good.” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. “Because I’m curious… What else could I do to distract you?”

Before you could answer, his free hand reached up, his fingers lightly tracing the line of your jaw, his touch gentle but purposeful. “I’ve got a few ideas.” he continued, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, his eyes following the movement like he was memorizing every detail. 

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as his fingers moved down, tracing the curve of your neck, his touch feather-light but sending sparks of heat through your veins. “You talk a big game,” you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady, “but can you back it up?”

His eyes flashed with amusement and something else—something darker, hungrier. “Oh, I think you’ll find I’m very good at keeping my promises.” he replied softly, leaning in until his lips were a breath away from yours. “Especially the fun ones.”

And then, without warning, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft at first, almost teasing, before deepening with a sudden intensity that made your head spin. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, and you felt the world around you disappear, leaving just the heat of his mouth, the press of his body against yours.

You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palms. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that sent a rush of heat through your body, your skin tingling everywhere he touched. 

He broke the kiss, just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re full of surprises,” before diving back in, his kiss rougher this time, more insistent. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap in one swift movement. You gasped against his mouth, feeling the firmness of his body beneath you, the heat of his skin through the fabric of your clothes.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging just hard enough to elicit a low groan from him, a sound that sent a delicious thrill through you. “Satoru.” you breathed, his name slipping from your lips like a secret, and his response was a grin against your mouth, wicked and knowing.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice a low rumble in his chest, his hands roaming up your back, sliding under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that left trails of fire in their wake.

You didn’t answer, just kissed him harder, pressing your body against his, feeling the heat building between you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap. His lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you gasp, your head tilting back to give him more access.

He chuckled softly, his breath hot against your neck. “Sensitive, are we?” he teased, but his voice was strained, as if he was barely holding himself back. His hands slid lower, gripping your hips and pressing you down against him, letting you feel exactly how much he wanted you.

You let out a soft moan, your fingers gripping his shoulders for support. “Maybe,” you whispered, your voice breathless. “But I think you like that.”

He laughed, a low, husky sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I do,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I like everything about you… so far.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, seeing the raw desire there, the need that mirrored your own. “Then maybe, Satoru, baby.” you whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against his, “You should stop talking and show me.”

He grinned, a wicked, knowing grin that made your heart race. “Challenge accepted, doll.” he said, and then his lips were on yours again, his kiss consuming, his hands exploring, leaving no part of you untouched, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of you. 

You looked at him and grinned. “Let me make you feel good, boy.” 

“Make it happen then, lovely.” He steps out of his pants and you sink to your knees on the plush carpet beneath you, licking your lips as he frees his member.. Your eyes meeting him.

You held his gaze, your grin widening as you saw the anticipation flicker in his eyes, a mix of mischief and hunger that mirrored your own. “Oh, I will,baby.” you promised, your voice a low purr that seemed to send a shiver down his spine.

You let your gaze trail down his body, taking in the sight of his lean, toned form before letting your eyes settle on his length, now freed and hard. A spark of excitement danced through you, and you licked your lips, feeling a wave of heat wash over you as you dropped to your knees on the plush carpet, every movement slow and deliberate, keeping his attention locked on you.

Satoru watched you, his breath hitching, and you could feel his intense gaze on you, almost like a physical touch. Your hands reached up, fingertips brushing lightly against his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms as you leaned in, your breath ghosting over his length. His eyes widened slightly, a soft exhale escaping his lips, and you could tell he was already on edge, trying to maintain his composure.

You looked up at him through your lashes, meeting his gaze with a wicked grin. “Ready, Satoru?” you teased, your voice soft and sultry, letting the anticipation build for a moment longer.

His eyes darkened, a soft growl escaping him. “Stop teasing, doll.” he muttered, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders, his fingers tightening slightly, betraying his eagerness. “Do your worst.”

Without another word, you leaned in, your tongue flicking out to tease the tip, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum that had formed there. Satoru sucked in a breath, his hips jerking slightly at the contact, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the effect you were already having on him.

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around him, taking him inch by inch into your mouth, savoring the weight of him on your tongue, the way he filled your mouth completely. His hand moved to your hair, fingers threading through your strands, not pushing, but just holding, grounding himself in the sensation of your warm mouth around him.

You started to move, your mouth sliding up and down his length with slow, deliberate strokes, your tongue swirling around him, adding just enough pressure to draw soft, breathy moans from his lips. You glanced up at him, his head tipped back slightly, his mouth parted as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

“Fuck…..” he breathed, his voice strained, the hand in your hair tightening just a bit. “That’s… you’re good at this…”

You hummed around him, a low, vibrating sound that made his hips twitch, his fingers tightening in your hair. You felt a surge of triumph, your movements becoming bolder, faster, as you took him deeper, letting him feel the heat, the slick slide of your mouth, the way your lips tightened around him.

Satoru’s breathing grew heavier, and you could hear the soft sounds of pleasure escaping his lips, his usual confidence wavering under the intensity of your attention. His hips began to move with you, small thrusts that pushed him deeper into your mouth, and you welcomed it, matching his rhythm, taking him deeper still.

You felt his muscles tense under your hands, heard the low growl building in his throat, his fingers gripping your hair tighter as if he were holding on for dear life. “God… you’re driving me crazy, doll.” he muttered, his voice thick with desire, his control slipping. 

You pulled back slightly, just enough to speak, your breath warm against his length. “Good.” you whispered, your voice a husky murmur, “because I’m not stopping until you come undone for me, Satoru.”

He looked down at you, his eyes blazing with need, and you saw a flicker of surrender there, a flash of vulnerability that made your heart race. “Then don’t stop, doll.” he whispered back, his voice a low command. “Make me lose control.”

You grinned up at him before taking him back into your mouth, your movements faster, more deliberate, determined to bring him to the edge and push him over. You felt his body tighten, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his hips thrusting in time with your movements, and you knew he was close.

With a few more strokes, a few more swirls of your tongue, you felt him shudder, his whole body tensing as he let out a low, deep moan, his release hitting hard and fast. His hand tightened in your hair as he rode out the waves of pleasure, his breathing heavy, his eyes closed, his lips parted in a satisfied grin.

You pulled back slowly, watching him as he came down, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his skin flushed, his hair tousled. He opened his eyes, a lazy smile spreading across his face, his gaze soft and full of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Damn.” he breathed, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re… something else.”

You smiled, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb, feeling a flush of your own. “Told you I’d make you feel good.” you replied, your voice light, teasing.

He chuckled, pulling you up to your feet and closer to him, his hands resting on your hips. “I think you’ve more than proven your point.” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss against your lips, his smile warm against your mouth. “But now… it’s my turn.”

A soft gasp escapes your lips as his touch moves with a deliberate, tender pressure. The sensation sends ripples of pleasure through you, making your breath hitch. Your back arches instinctively, your body pressing closer to his. Every touch, every movement feels electric, your emotions swirling in a beautiful, overwhelming storm.

His lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Each kiss feels like a spark, igniting a fire that grows with every passing second. His hands glide along your back, pulling you closer still, as if he wants to feel every inch of you against him. Your breath quickens, matching the rhythm of your racing heartbeat.

His gaze meets yours, a mix of tenderness and something deeper, something that makes your heart flutter. “I want to make you feel everything, baby doll.” he whispers, his voice low and filled with promise.

You feel a surge of anticipation, your senses heightened, every touch sending a shiver down your spine. He takes his time, exploring every curve and contour, as if memorizing you. You’re lost in the sensation, in the way he makes you feel cherished, wanted, and entirely his. The world fades away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared intimacy and unspoken connection.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and he responds with a soft, satisfied hum, his smile widening against your skin. “Stay with me, ‘toru.” you breathe, the words escaping almost involuntarily, a plea and a declaration all at once.

His hold on you tightens, and he nods, his eyes filled with an emotion so intense it takes your breath away. “Always.” he promises, sealing his vow with another lingering kiss that sends a wave of warmth through your entire being.

His hands roam down your sides with a deliberate slowness, tracing every curve as if savoring the feel of you beneath his fingertips. His touch is both gentle and insistent, a wordless reminder of the connection between you. As his lips move back to yours, the kiss deepens, becoming more passionate, more consuming, his tongue teasing yours in a dance that sets your nerves alight.

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his warmth enveloping you like a blanket. Every movement is careful yet filled with an undeniable urgency. His fingers slip beneath the fabric of your clothes, his touch sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. Your breaths mingle, becoming heavier, the room thick with the electric charge of your shared desire.

He pulls back just enough to study your face, his gaze intense and filled with a hunger that sends a thrill through you. “You’re so beautiful, doll.” he murmurs, his voice husky with emotion. “Every part of you.” His hands move lower, caressing the sensitive skin of your waist, drawing a soft sigh from your lips.

You could feel the edges of your nails dig deep into Satoru’s back, leaving red marks once after another in the canvas of his supple skin. Each breath comes out in a shaky gasp, and you can feel him shiver beneath your touch, his skin heating under your fingertips. He groans softly at the sensation, the sound vibrating against your lips as he kisses you deeply, hungrily.

“‘Toru…baby….” you gasp out between moans, voice trembling with need. “You feel so good, goddddd…”

Your hips move instinctively against his hand, seeking that delicious friction, chasing the elusive climax that seems tantalizingly close but always just out of reach. You wondered where he has been all your life, where has this pleasure been all your life. 

He smiles against your lips, his voice a low whisper, almost teasing. “I’ve got you, doll.” he murmurs, his fingers pressing deeper, moving with a slow, rhythmic intensity that makes you cry out softly. “Let me take you there.”

Satoru’s thumb circles gently, adding a different sensation, his eyes fixed on yours, watching every expression, every shudder of pleasure that passes over your face. His other hand is firm on your waist, guiding your movements, coaxing you closer, pulling you toward that edge with a deliberate slowness that drives you mad. 

You feel the tension build inside you, every nerve ignited by his touch, his name spilling from your lips in a breathless whisper. “Satoru… baby....please…” you beg, the need in your voice is unmistakable.

He chuckles softly, his breath hot against your ear. “I love hearing you say my name like that, doll.” he whispers, his touch becoming more insistent, more purposeful. The heat between you grows, every sensation amplified by the intensity of the moment, his pace quickening, matching the desperate rhythm of your heartbeat.

Your body arches toward him, every inch of you attuned to his movements, and you feel yourself spiraling, that sweet ache within you growing sharper, hotter. His fingers find that perfect spot, and suddenly, you’re lost to the wave of pleasure that crashes over you, your body trembling, a moan of pure ecstasy escaping your lips as Gojo holds you close, his name a soft prayer on your lips.

“I’ll eat you out later, doll. I promise.” Satoru whispers against your ear, his voice laced with a playful promise that sends a shiver down your spine. “But right now… I need to be inside you.”

He positions himself between your spread legs, leaning down to tease the head of his member against your hungry, slick folds, rubbing himself gently against you. Each movement is torturously slow, spreading your wetness across both of you, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips. He watches your reactions with a smirk, his bright blue eyes darkened with desire.

Looking up at you, Satoru grins, his expression mischievous and full of intent. “Let’s do something else for now.” he murmurs, his voice low and inviting. He starts to push into you slowly, stretching you inch by inch, his gaze never leaving yours.

The sensation is overwhelming, your body instinctively arching to take him deeper. You can feel every part of him, the way he fills you perfectly, the way your body molds around him. His hands grip your hips, steadying you as he moves further, a low groan escaping his throat. “You feel incredible, baby doll.” he breathes, his voice rough with pleasure, his control hanging by a thread.

Your nails dig even harder into his shoulders as he continues to push in, stretching you, filling you completely. He pauses for a moment, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, his breath hot against your lips, his voice softer, seeking reassurance even amidst his own urgency.

You nod, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. “I’m okay… more than okay, ‘toru.” you murmur, a breathy moan escaping you as he begins to move again, slowly pulling back before thrusting in, setting a rhythm that makes your toes curl.

His pace quickens, each thrust more intense, more deliberate, as if he’s determined to draw every sound, every sigh, from your lips. His name falls from your mouth in a mix of gasps and pleas, and he responds with a low growl, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss.

Satoru’s hands wander, one sliding up to cradle the back of your neck, the other gripping your hip, guiding you into his rhythm. Every movement feels perfectly timed, perfectly in sync, as if he knows exactly what you need, where to touch, how to move to drive you to the brink of ecstasy.

“God, I love the way you feel, doll.” he murmurs, his voice rough and desperate, his forehead pressing against yours as his pace becomes relentless, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. Your body tightens around him, drawing him deeper, the heat between you building to a crescendo, and you feel yourself start to unravel.

“Don’t hold back.” he urges, his voice thick with need, his eyes locked on yours. “Let go, doll… I want to feel you come undone.” 

And with those words, everything inside you shatters in a wave of pure, overwhelming pleasure. Your body trembles, your breath catches, and you call out his name, your world reduced to the feeling of him moving within you, holding you, as you both reach for that beautiful, shared climax.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

epilogue 

You were exhausted. But you still had a curfew and your mother would be looking for you by now. When Satoru heard that, he immediately jumped up and said he'll take you home.

As you both fumbled to put your clothes back on in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, Gojo’s mischievous grin didn’t fade for a second. His white shirt was still unbuttoned, hanging off one shoulder, and his pants were inside out — not that he seemed to care.

You tugged your shirt over your head, smoothing down your hair with a breathless laugh. "You look like you got dressed in the dark." you teased, glancing at the ridiculous state of his attire.

Gojo chuckled, leaning in to nuzzle your neck, his lips brushing against your ear. "Well, to be fair, I was a bit distracted by you, doll."

Rolling your eyes, you gave his chest a light push. "Sure, blame me for your lack of coordination."

He winked and, with a dramatic flair, flipped his sunglasses back on, even though it was well past midnight. "Oh, definitely. It’s always your fault when I can't keep my hands to myself."

You both burst into laughter, the absurdity of the situation washing over you. Finally, Gojo took a deep breath, still grinning but with a hint of sincerity creeping into his voice. "So… now that I've seen you at your best — and, uh, at your most undressed — how about a date?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "A date? Like… a normal date?"

He nodded, his expression surprisingly earnest despite the disheveled hair and the inside-out pants. "Yeah, you know, the kind where I take you out, we eat something that isn't each other, maybe even talk about our feelings."

You snorted, trying to stifle your giggles. "You sure you can handle that, Satoru? The whole talking thing sounds like a lot of work for you."

He dramatically clutched his chest as if wounded. "Ouch, doll, that hurt. But yes, I think I could manage… if it means I get to see you smile like that again."

You pretended to consider it for a moment, then shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Fine. But I’m picking the place, and you’re wearing your pants the right way this time."

Gojo laughed, pulling you into his arms. "Deal. As long as you promise to wear something that makes me lose at poker again."

You smirked, leaning in close. "Oh, I think I can arrange that."

And as you both laughed, tangled in each other’s arms, the idea of a "normal" date didn't sound so bad after all.

[ren-is-real]

Inanimate Insanity dash simulator (pre ep 16) (i will do more of this if this goes well probably)

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

does anyone ever get so tired they start seeing spiders lol

💼 su1tcas3 Follow

me when i lay down and hallucinate the horrors lmfao

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

what

💼 su1tcas3 Follow

Oh so this is not a safe place suddenly

2,369 notes

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

as an unbiased outsider im cheering for them both ^^ im so excited for the finale!!!!!!!!!!!

#idk what i'll do when this ends tbh #like damn. #we'll cross that bridge when we get to it!!

19 notes

💡 brightestlight Follow

any couple can be gay if they are bisexual and their genders are weird enough

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why did you post this directly after talking to me and test tube

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

lightbulb why did y

11 notes

🎤 mic-row-phoen Follow

when you want to ask someone about something but the trek is IMPOSSIBLE and you will DIE (hes downstairs setting up a party im just scared)

🍊 orange-got-juiced Follow

i am not giving you the aux to play green day at the party

🎤 mic-row-phoen Follow

:(

🍊 orange-got-juiced Follow

ok. two songs

19 notes

🎀 rain-bowz Follow

when a fake girl tryna act like me but im the only one there is

⚙️ rowbotted Follow

REAL!!!!!

🎀 rain-bowz Follow

who are you.

📄pageperrr Follow

hey didnt you die. or something

23 notes

🌮absolutleynot-taco Follow

hey anyone know where pickle is haha. anyone know his room number or amything lol like it would justs be fun to know,,, hagaha,,,, yeagh

0 notes

🏆awinners-trophy Follow

imagine using a run down website that hasnt been relevant in YEARS. you all need to get off and go touch some grass or something jfc

🔪sharpest-tool-inthe-shed Follow

you're literally using it?

🏆awinners-trophy Follow

kill yourself

#you used to be cool man

19 notes

🎈coldairballoon Follow

i drew some vent art about old stuff.. im better now!! im just letting off some steam haha

🏆awinners-trophy Follow

this is so cringe

🎈coldairballoon Follow

you're cringe.

🍊 orange-got-juiced Follow

trophy just ran to the bathroom sobbing

27 notes

🌽 official-meeple-ceo Follow

greetings tumbler! i an steve cobs, C.E.O of the meeple company. i am looking to get in contact with a mephone! specifically mephone 4. (model 4s) any help is greatly appreciated!

🖌️ brushedpaint Follow

go back to twitter vro 💀

817 notes

⚾ thegrandslammer Follow

trying a healthier outlook on life!! i'll tell yall how it goes!!

⚾ thegrandslammer Follow

failed

⚾ thegrandslammer Follow

failed

⚾ thegrandslammer Follow

failed

8,270 notes

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

i miss egg :( i wonder where the other one the aliens mentioned went. i hope it found a parent that loves it as much as i loved egg. i mean i wasnt the best parent but uh you get what i mean

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😜

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

???????

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

??????????what??????????

#why is steve cobs on tumblr get off

15 notes

🕯 innerflamed Follow

i need a boyfriend except he's not a boyfriend and is just some weird british guy i drag around with me everywhere

1,393 notes

🍀fourleafluck Follow

diversity win!! corrupt capitalist CEO of multimillion dollar company steve cobs is bisexual!

🌽 official-meeple-ceo Follow

who informed you of this.

🍀fourleafluck Follow

I WAS??? JOKING??????

#GUYS??? #STEVE COBS GAY ICON??? #HOLY SHIT #IM SCREAMING ITS HIS OFFICIAL ACCOUNT ITS NOT A GIMMIC #meeple

23,105 notes

💡 brightestlight Follow

as a member of the lgbt we do not accept steve cobs

💡 brightestlight Follow

even when he changes the meeple logo to a rainbow during pride month we dont accept him

21 notes

☯ ringinginthenewyear Follow

☯ ringinginthenewyear Follow

just to clarify yang posted this not me -yin

57 notes

🥒 pickledposting Follow

steve cobs being bi and accidentally admitting to it on tumblr was not on my 2024 bingo card ???????

🌽 official-meeple-ceo Follow

you'll be first.

🥒 pickledposting Follow

what

29 notes

[webslingingslasher]

Frat Peter and he's all cocky, but he gets really shy when you're around and his friends keep teasing him about his little crush and how he's putty in your hands and you don't even know?

god i love him so much

“Your girls here, parker.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, as much as he denies no one believes him. You’re not his girl, not by a long shot but god does he wish you were. The jab still couldn’t stop him from swiveling his neck, sure enough you were laughing with friends, your wide smile made him smile too. You looked so pretty, he’s never seen someone fill out clothes the way you do. 

He needs to find a way to talk to you, it started as group partners and he may have played a little dumb to get you to study with him, just for some one on one time. Since then you’ve gotten closer, and everyday he feels more and more like a lovesick puppy. He’d do anything you ask, just so he can prove he could make you happy. 

“Pong, let’s go, parker.” 

Peter wants to whine like a toddler, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you. Not that he needs to, and definitely not to scare off a potential suitor, he just wants to make sure you’re safe, that’s all. He looks you over again, you’re with friends and he thinks you’ll be alright. 

Right before he can turn back to his brothers your eyes flicker up, meeting his you send a grin. Peter’s been caught, he’s been looking over you for a minute and that smile said ‘caught you,’ it made his cheeks warm, a faint blush coats his cheeks and you can’t help but watch as his friends hoop and shake his shoulders, causing him to nearly run to the garage for a game of beer pong. 

Peter doesn’t know how long he’s been playing. He knows it’s been about three games, and he’s trying to act the perfect amount of buzzed. What he does know is that time stopped when you came looking for him, his ears picking up on your fluttery soft voice pushing for apologies.

“Do you know where peter is?” 

Wasted white girl looks appalled you asked, “who the fuck is peter?” 

“Oh. Um, parker?” 

Wasted white girl drags out an ‘oh,’ then points in his general direction, you raise on tiptoes, looking over the shoulders in the cramped room, catching sight of his snapback, turned backwards. You started to make your decent, politely excusing yourself and apologizing when you rub up against someone. 

You think about tapping his shoulder, but you’re a menace. You tug at his hat, pulling it off his head, before you can complete the task his hand grips your wrist, a dull tone comes from his mouth. 

“Don’t do that.” 

Your hand drops, you didn’t know there was a boundary there. 

“I’m sorry!” 

His head whips to yours, wide eyed and flushed. 

“I didn’t know it was you! You can do that, you have my permission.” 

His teammate, Ethan, if you remember correctly, coughed into his hand, one word slipping from his mouth made Peter jerk his shoulder into his. “Simp.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, “peter’s not a simp, that’s mean. You should say sorry.” 

Ethan is having fun, “oh trust me, if you knew what I know, you would call him a simp too.” Peter, in a panic, rips his hat off his head and throws it on yours, it falls over your eyes, you fix it with enough time to watch Peter mumble out “watch it,” before directing all his attention on you. 

“Looking good.” 

You do a spin for him, “think I can pledge next year?” 

“You have my vote.” 

Ethan had to bite back another simp comment. 

“Can you do me a favor?” 

Rushed, “anything.” 

Ethan can’t help his snort, he tries to hide it behind clearing his throat. 

Peter wants to kill his friend. 

“I’ve been ditched and I really have to pee, so would you mind watching my drink?” 

Peter holds out a hand to take it, his palm covering the open mouth. “It would be my honor.” 

You smile at him, “thanks, be right back.” 

“Five minutes and I come looking.” 

That was new, it was protective. It made you feel warm and safe inside, he was a really good friend. You promised you would be back, but the line was longer than you expected and you were unable to complete the task in just a few minutes. 

Peter kept count, and like he said, went looking. Ethan’s pissed that they’ve now lost the game to a forfeit, all because Peter was head over heels in a gushy crush. You bound down the steps in time to see Peter getting aggravated by his friend, you couldn’t help but overhear.

“You know this is super entertaining, right?” 

“Shut up, Ethan.” 

“It’s adorable. The way you run after her, bending to her will. Who knew parker had a bitch in him.” 

In one quick motion Peter had him pinned to the wall. 

“Don’t ruin this for me. I’m gonna make a move, alright? She makes me nervous and I’m not used to this, okay?” 

“Ask her on a fucking date, I’d put a thousand on the line she’d say yes.” 

You wonder who he’s talking about, you have more than an inkling it’s you but Peter’s never seemed interested, just a good friend. It must have been someone else. 

“I’m not betting on Y/N, I like her too much.” 

Oh fuck. He is talking about you, and it makes you warm and fuzzy all over. 

Ethan is right, you would say yes. 

You duck your head down, pressing against the bars on the stairway. 

“I’m okay with you betting on me, take the grand and then take me out on a nice date.” 

Peter’s eyes blew up, he wanted to punch Ethan. He also wanted to thank him. 

“It’s not like that!” Peter feels his brain melt, stop talking, why are you talking?  

You frown, “it’s not?” 

Ethan tries to push his head against the wall, his chin poking up high to get a view of you crouched down. “It is like that, you heard him.” He gags when Peter presses his forearm against his throat, it’s not meant to hurt, just silence. 

“Well, if it is like that, and I make you nervous, there really isn’t a need cause I would say yes.” 

Peter’s arm drops, “come here.” 

Ethan takes this as his moment to escape, you watch the stairs as you follow them down, narrowly missing a spilled beer. Peter meets you at the bottom of the staircase, he hands you over the drink he’d been watching. 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem.” 

You blinked at the boy, he stood there and looked at his hat on your head. You waited until it started to get awkward. 

“If you don’t ask, I will, then I’ll have ripped the rights from you. You’ll have to tell our grandkids you chickened out.” 

That doesn’t sound bad to him, but he thinks the least he can do is get the words out. 

“I would really, really like to take you out for dinner, is that okay?” 

You chew your cheek, “what’s your policy on kissing before the first date?” 

“It should be a thing.” 

You bite your lower lip to hide your smile, it didn’t work. 

“Wanna make it a thing?” 

[ham1lton]

another day, another drama.

pairing: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister!reader.

summary: the one where you think o/s is hiding something from you, so with the help of your boyfriend and his friends, you try to figure it out. too bad you find more than you bargained for.

author’s note: part of the nepo sister universe. i fear we might be coming to the end of the nsu soon…. also there is a poll at the end, help a struggling writer out and vote pls mwah.

— part one | part two (coming soon).

————————————————————————

liked by oldersistersbff, yourbff and 287,737 others.

yourusername: just saw these pics of my bf and burst into tears. fuck f1 for taking my bf and my sister away from me….

oscarpiastri: ur welcome ☺️

-> yourusername: SICK SICK MAN!!!! 😒😒

user1: not u acting like a war widow 😭

-> yourusername: my husband (boyfriend) has been taken as a prisoner of war (forced to do his job) thousands of miles away (no this part is actually real).

user9: i’m new to this. are they lovers?

-> user8: worse.

*liked by oscarpiastri.*

formula1: we apologise yourusername! but you’ll see him soon we promise! :)

-> yourusername: RETURN MY BF IMMEDIATELY….

-> user5: girl what about your sister??

-> yourusername: she’ll be fine 😘

user6: girl um did u see ur sister’s newest interview???

-> yourusername: no??!! BRB!

————————————————————————

liked by zendaya, simonebiles and 3,288,728 others.

vogue: the paddock’s princess came to talk to us about being our newest cover girl, winning her most recent championship, going viral, her love life and what her favourite smoothie combination is.

user3: shes so cute 🥺🥺

user1: o/s has been notoriously single since her breakup with paul like five years ago… why is she giggling and smiling when asked about a man???

-> user2: no i noticed that… omg is she seeing someone?

user7: face card never declines!

user4: when gav told her that she’d won and the first thing she did when she left the car was hug him and cry??? she’s so cute. i’m so glad i live in the y/n domination era.

-> user5: the edits with that video are sick… o/s is keeping the tiktok editors in business.

-> user9: have you seen the ones about her and lando to the song lacy??? INSANE…

-> user5: DM ME RN

user31: her saying she doesn’t ever want to be defined by her wins and rather by who she is a person. we love a charitable queen!

yourusername: love life… hmmm….

-> user4: oh no….. she’s plotting 😭

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

liked by oldersistersbff, user72 and 2,833,617 others.

oldersister: family reunion.

yourusername: no credits for the pics??

-> oldersister: no. you take enough credit from my card.

-> yourusername: … fair.

user1: she’s deadass married wth.

-> user6: family reunion out of nowhere? talking about her love life suddenly after years of not even having one? photographed with two separate men?? shopping with o/s/bff in a bridal boutique and cordoning off the area?? it’s adding up sis ur not even delusional for this one….

user9: WHO’S UR MAN @/oldersister

user5: stop with the married jokes y’all…. i can’t lose my queen to some MAN��.

user3: are you planning on changing ur surname from l/n.

-> oldersister: never.

-> user16: oh so you do see these comments…

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

SPYING TRANSCRIPT - THURSDAY, 6PM.

- written by LANDO NORRIS, for his boss Y/N L/N.

LANDO NORRIS - i think she’s dating carlos. i’m putting my cards out there.

OSCAR PIASTRI - put your cards back. no way that’d happen. i think she’s dating someone else. look at these photos. that guy isn’t carlos.

DANIEL RICCARDO - just tell y/n she’s dating me and we can all go to sleep. i mean look at my incredible good looks, it would be sacrilegious to not want me.

PIASTRI - if she was gonna go for the hottest driver on the grid she’d go for lewis or charles.

CHARLES LECLERC - oh thank you oscar! very nice.

NORRIS - you’re moving away from the point. wait… is someone knocking on the door?

(everyone looks at each other concerned)

RICCIARDO - oh i ordered pizza. i forgot. my bad!

LECLERC - how about her dating another athlete? someone who understands this life but won’t affect her position here.

NORRIS - smart… what athlete has she been seen with recently?

PIASTRI - according to social media, simone biles?

NORRIS - isn’t she married? nah, who else.

RICCIARDO - she was telling me the other day that she went to the psg game. i asked her why and she said she had a friend who played for them.

LECLERC - kylian mbappé? that makes a lot of sense actually….

NORRIS - do you feel a kin to him? i mean, you’re both frenchmen after all.

(OSCAR PIASTRI would like the transcript to include the following: — after this, charles hit lando. i laughed.)

PIASTRI - it could be that this is all a big misunderstanding. she could have been shopping for a bridesmaid dress. why would she get married and not tell her sister who she’s incredibly close to? that makes no sense to me.

RICCIARDO - anyways….

NORRIS - what about leonardo dicaprio!

LECLERC - she is under 25….

————————————————————————

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taglist: @23victoria @luckyladycreator2 @mxdi0 @booksandflowrs @charlesleclercsonlywife @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @evie-119 @ironmaiden1313 @d3kstar @blupblupfish @demvnsriot @raevyng @namgification (don’t see yourself or wanna be removed? send an ask!)

— don’t wanna miss an update? join my taglist!

[ms-demeanor]

i mean realistically many people do deserve to be the victims of targeted harassment campaigns. if you're being an asshole you deserve to be screamed at by everyone present until you stop. some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

damn following up the last ask, ig it was someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out. my bad lol thought that was part of ur main post

I mean this is something that's still worthwhile to bounce off of even though you're not actually responding to me.

First of all, no, I pretty much don't think that anybody deserves to be the focus of a targeted harassment campaign. At least not the kind that are spun up on tumblr or twitter. I generally think that targeted harassment campaigns don't work to change minds, they only work to torment, isolate, and attack people, which will often further entrench them in their positions.

Sometimes people doing serious antifascist work will make a discovery like, for instance "the principal of X school is a vicious antisemite" and will run an *exposure* campaign to get them removed from a position of power, but with very few exceptions when you see an online callout post for a random internet user it's nothing but abuse and an attempt to bully them off of a specific website, not an attempt to protect victims or inform people of a genuine threat. "ABC is the new alt of this person with a documented history of starting cults, DNI, block and move on" is very different than "This specific user who is on staff posts harry potter fanart and is why fascists continue to exist on tumblr, let's make sure they know what tumblr thinks of them."

You are trying to frame bullying campaigns as normal consequences for antisocial behavior, but the antisocial behaviors under discussion here are "user posted fanart broadly disliked by the community and associated with specific ideologies long after the initial fandoms were crystallized" and "is the CEO of a social media website that is implementing features that the users dislike."

"People deserve to be screamed at until they stop the bad behavior" is punitive and shitty and so broad and open to so many interpretations that you're basically saying "it's open season on screaming at people." I think that it's bad behavior to support neoliberal political candidates who prop up capitalism but it would be horrible for me to run harassment campaigns against everyone who says "vote blue no matter who" even though I think that attitude perpetuates real world harms. (And it also wouldn't convince those people to change their minds! The fact that I think they are doing something harmful doesn't give me the social license to send hundreds of people to harass them! And it wouldn't work! These kinds of campaigns don't effect change they just isolate people and erode trust and civility jesus fuck we need to be coalition building not posting callouts over whatever activity has been deemed "freak behavior" this week)

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

oh buddy, I think I get where you're coming from here but considering the kinds of behavior under discussion this is just straight up fascist. You are literally saying that people should be banished from society for wrongthink because nobody under discussion here has actually committed an act of cruelty.

(one of the things that i'm putting under the heading of "tumblr conspiracist thinking" is "staff is currently and continually intentionally flagging certain LGBTQ tags and bloggers" - there is ample evidence that the current staff is working to unfuck flagging and blocked tags that was done long before this crew was working on it. People talk about "tumblr had to settle because their filtering disproportionately impacted lgbtq+ creators" and that is TRUE however that was a filter that was established under different owners with different policies and different staff; the implication that the current staff is guilty of trying to stifle LGBTQ+ content because a lawsuit started before the Automattic purchase of tumblr ended in a financial settlement is just bad, wrong, incorrect, faulty logic. And if I might indulge in a bit of my own conspiracist thinking: I actually suspect a lot of the flagging and tagging and blocking of trans women specifically might actually be targeted attacks of individual users by terfs - many of the things that are getting flagged as needing a community label are things that use tags that terfs follow to attack and if enough users click "this needs a community label" the post will get flagged - I don't know that that's what's going on but just operating on occam's razor I think it's a lot more likely that terfs are coordinating attacks on trans people than that there is a secret group of cryptoterfs on staff taking time out of their day to ensure that trans users get flagged, if only because I think that the vocally trans positive former members of the staff would have said something about it.)

So, given that my position is "it is unlikely that anyone on staff is intentionally targeting LGBTQ+ groups HOWEVER prior policies enacted harm against LGBTQ+ groups and there is visible evidence that the current staff is trying to repair that damage" I'm not seeing any behaviors here that call for individual employees or users to get targeted with harassment from thousands of users.

But anyway, back to the specifics of the ask:

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

Do you have any idea how frequently amends are made and never circulated as widely as the callout post? Do you have any idea how frequently callout posts are incorrect, and exaggerate the things that need to be amended? I'm reminded of Lindsey Ellis, who was the victim of a years-long targeted harassment campaign and made multiple apologies over the years who was finally driven off of her primary platform because she carelessly misspoke and the people who had been targeting her for years were able to make a post that she had long disavowed and was a relic of her dealing with the aftermath of sexual violence go viral. The internet doesn't let people make amends; people see accusations. They see the first post, not the follow up. That's why starting these campaigns is shitty and dangerous even if you *personally* believe that you'll forgive an individual once they "make amends." (and the "amends" people usually demand are "i want this person gone from the internet forever and cut out of this part of their life" - that's not really something that's fair to ask of people when so much of the world is online these days.)

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

No they don't. Straight up. If the manager of a wendy's sprays you in the neck with a milkshake you have the right to escalate your complaint right up the chain, take your business away and never come back, warn other people "hey the manager sprayed me with a milkshake, stay away," but you don't have the moral right to escalate the situation by screaming at them (and you certainly don't have that right if you happened to get sprayed with some milkshake while the manager was attempting to fix the frostee machine when you came to pick up your order, which I think is actually more analogous to what is happening here).

someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out

A big point that I think you're missing here is that @-ing staff when there is a problem on a post or you see harassment is generally pretty acceptable (though much less effective than filing a support claim), but the issue under discussion isn't @-ing staff, it was pointing thousands of angry people at two specific people who are *part* of staff and holding those two individuals responsible for all the problems that users see with tumblr.

partyjockers got nuked because their post directed a flood of harassment at one staff member in a post where they had highlighted that user's URL and name:

This is explicitly saying "users like the one I screenshotted are the reason you're being attacked by terfs" because one member of staff posted fanart from two franchises that tumblr-the-userbase has deemed off limits.

(Do you have any idea how extreme a bubble this is? Do you walk into barnes and noble and sigh because the managers are fascists who want trans people dead because there's harry potter merch everywhere? JK rowling is a terf and a horrible fucking person and I am no longer personally comfortable engaging with that fandom but people posting fanart of a franchise are not personally attacking you even if it feels like they are disregarding your humanity; you cannot consider other people's participation in huge, popular, mainstream fandoms as a sign that they are plotting against you this is why i'm calling this conspiracist thinking the entire scorched earth conspiracy spawned from someone interpreting a staff member's art as esoteric signposts signalling their hatred of trans people. Do you remember when the stupid harry potter game came out and this entire website was despondent because it meant that people didn't care about trans people? That's not actually what it meant! What it meant is that the vast majority of people on the planet have neither a twitter nor a tumblr account and have no idea how shitty JK rowling is to trans people and they don't interpret "harry potter imagery" as "covert terf signal" they interpret it as "possibly the most mainstream fantasy series in the last fifty years")

This isn't someone calling out the manager after they spray you with a milkshake. The manager asking someone to leave after they started screaming that the cashier's earrings were hate speech.

This analogy got out of hand but please just understand that there's a difference between @-ing an account that people are paid to monitor as part of their jobs and that they have support and coworkers to help with and @-ing someone's personal account.

Nobody got a post deleted because the used @ staff, they got their posts deleted because they focused viral negative attention on individual users.

[sillygoofyqueer]

Even more thoughts, for you to post if you so choose!

I do love the idea of Shen Yuan having a fancy hair piece with a pin that doubles as a weapon! Just because demon crows don’t have access to spiritual swords doesn’t mean he can’t stab the hell out of you.

For his main weapon, I’m thinking crow demons that can take human form tend to use bows, with the feathers shed by their clan as fletching. (Perhaps demon feathers also grant abilities of some sort to the arrows?)

Looking at the iridescence of crow feathers reminds me of the Chinese tradition of making jewelry with kingfisher feathers. Now I think it would be lovely if the crow demons also had a tradition of fashioning similar jewelry with their own feathers, perhaps treated with solutions and lacquered in a way that brings out even more of their color.

Speaking of colors, while crows aren’t among those birds able to see significant ultraviolet, they are tetrachromats, and thus are able to distinguish colors to a far greater extent than humans. I’m sure his sudden ability to see way more colors than he could in his last life is very perplexing to poor Shen Yuan!

The regular crows acting as an alarm system by cursing and saying spooky nonsense at all unknown visitors is an absolute delight!

I vote that Shen Yuan intentionally never gives them whatever signal that would mark Airplane as a friend, just so they continue to harass the guy every time he comes to visit. 😂

(I’m thinking poor Airplane is trying to set up trade routes for demons, and struggling with the general hostility different types of demons have for one another. Killing interlopers and/or raiding other demons for their stuff is not conductive to trade! It’s no wonder demons lack the arts. Nobody shares anything with anyone, except when giving demon nobles tribute. 😭)

You know, with all the feathers and bird-folks about, the transmigrators probably figure out quill pens. Not sure how big of an improvement they’d be compared to brushes, but they’re at least more like what the transmigrators are used to.

It’d also be funny if all the demon crows and villagers were learning to write simplified Chinese from Shen Yuan, instead of traditional, leading visitors to wonder what the hell is up with this one location’s weird writing system, where half the characters are inexplicably different.

(He probably teaches them traditional too, if only for the sake of reading imported books and things, but simplified is probably faster for personal notes and bookkeeping or the like).

I've always loved when people have weapons in discreet places, so it seemed necessary to dump that onto Shen Yuan because he's the most iconic character ever. Especially CrowYuan as well, it seems like something he'd do just to be safe when it comes to these things - after everything he's read, it's hard not to always be prepared. (Also, a more cheeky reason if I may, imagine Shen Yuan in a sticky situation and he pulls the hair pin out of his hair, now holding a weapon and looking AWESOME as he does it) Also, main weapon as a bow IS MAKING ME LOOOSE MY MIND. Ever since I was little, I've been obsessed with people who use bows (Legolas, Robin Hood, Hawkeye, Kate Bishop, various book characters) and the idea of giving Shen Yuan a bow?? I am dropping to my knees and shaking my fists at the sky. HUZZAAAHH!!! Feathers as fletching is a great idea, almost like a calling card of sorts, as well as a warning. Demon feathers giving certain abilities to arrows is a brilliant idea, such as resilience, poison, increased speeds (useful for high pressure situations where someone has to die before they can be alerted). I'd find it interesting if different demon feathers grant different abilities, and it's almost a norm for these demons to trade feathers! The jewellery idea is absolutely gorgeous and adorable! I was thinking that it could mainly be a crow demon thing, and to have one made for you if you aren't a crow demon is a sign of great trust within the community, a decision that has to be agreed to by at least half of the community! Also, itty bitty angst idea, this jewellery could also be highly sought out because it's gorgeous and its making is entirely a clan secret that is only taught to those within it - so, it's often seen as a spoil of war, a way to brag about a crow demon's death is to wear the jewellery "won" from "battle". Shen Yuan would most definitely be thrown off guard by this wider arrange of colours, often found in the wildest areas of the forest and just staring at everything. At first, he wonders if it's because he's a demon now, but more research (aka, bullying a demon chicken Airplane for answers) shows that it is fact not because he's a demon, but instead because he's a crow. He is both excited that he can see all these colours and fiercely delighted that Airplane can't, because he's a spiteful little shit and I love him. If Airplane comes to visit, he's grown adept to immediately submitting to the harassment of the crows because they soon grow bored of him if they don't get any reaction other than pitiful screaming. (He would highly suffer from trying to set up trade routes as well, lmaooo) OH MY GOD, if Mobei Jun ever comes to visit Bing-ge, he would also be immediately attacked by crows and that is funnier than anything else right now in my mind. His stern face immediately becomes one of absolute outrage, but it quickly becomes confusion when Bing-ge says he can't attack them back because "Shen Yuan would never forgive me" On the idea of feathers as quill pens, that would end up being incredibly useful for them! Perhaps the use of certain demon feathers would be better than others if we go by different demon feathers holding different abilities - for instance, let's say crow feathers hold increased speed, that would be helpful for writing because one would merely need to guide the quill and let it do the rest. However, a demon feather that created a poison effect, let's say chicken feathers, would not be the best for writing, which makes certain feathers more valuable than others for different things! Shen Yuan would be a great teacher, because he knows the traditional Chinese - which is useful for things you previously mentioned - but then he would be able to introduce a whole new writing system that makes it easier to write. This would be especially useful for those who may struggle with the traditional Chinese, because then they would still be able to access writing!! {part seven! part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, and part six!}

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo realizes that adopting Megumi doesn’t just entail calling himself a DILF as a joke. It has responsibility. He doesn’t know how to live with that.

wc — 1k

tags — hurt/comfort, coping with recent chapters/leaks, spoilers for anime onlys, title from Runaway by Aurora, somewhere in the timeline of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together  

Gojo doesn’t see the point of road trips. He can get there and back in an instant, so there’s no point. 

But you like commutes, and Megumi likes what you like, so it’s two to one. Gojo tries to angle for his vote counting as three, being the savior of the Jujutsu world and all, but Megumi is already climbing in the car without him. If there’s anything Gojo hates more in the world than being ignored, it’s being left out, so he’s climbing in too, acting as if it was his plan all along. 

Halfway in, Gojo cracks like you knew he would. Somehow, road trips are just the perfect vehicle for heart-to-heart conversations. The monotony of the highways create an itch for vulnerable conversations. That, and Gojo has a bad habit of blurting out whatever’s on his mind anyway. He’s never learned the meaning of the word filter. 

“I don’t know how to be a dad,” Gojo admits. “I don’t even know if I want to be one.”

You turn to double check that Megumi’s actually asleep before you give him an admonishing look. He should’ve checked first. 

“See,” he says. “This is what I mean.” 

“It’s okay, Satoru,” you say. “We’re still learning. This is new.”

“I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll ever be.” 

“Me neither,” you admit. “I’m so scared I’m going to mess this up.” 

Gojo laughs. “And here I thought you knew everything.” 

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. It stretches for a few miles as you turn the conversation over in your head, trying to think through the answer. 

“How do we do this?” Gojo whispers. “This is a kid. I can’t- what I usually do isn’t going to work. If we fuck up, we fuck him up.”

You know what he means. Every mistake feels irreversible. Some days, you want nothing more than to take Megumi back to campus and demand Yaga do something about it, even though you feel guilty immediately afterwards. This responsibility weighs heavy on your shoulders. 

“I don’t know, Satoru. We just have to try. The other option-“ 

“There’s no other option,” he says, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m not giving him to the Zenins. He deserves to be a kid.” 

“I agree with you.” 

“Sorry. I know you wouldn’t. I just- Sorry.” 

Without looking, you reach over and pat his knee lightly, accepting his apology. It’s alright. You understand. 

He’s silent for a while. Then he says, “You missed the exit.” 

It throws off your calculations for estimated arrival by nearly thirty whole minutes, but somehow Gojo finds that he doesn’t mind, even though this is the perfect opportunity for him to say I told you so. 

Megumi is still sleeping in the back when you stop. Gojo opens the passenger door just in time to catch him as he slumps forward, having been leaning against it. He stirs a little, but goes right back to sleep after twitching like a puppy. 

“Come on,” he coaxes, “time to get up. We’re here.” 

Megumi snuffles a little. He must still be half asleep, because he raises his head just enough to place himself over Gojo’s shoulder and wrap his arms around his neck. Megumi’s still young. He still remembers what it’s like to be carried by his father, especially when he’s dreaming. 

Gojo freezes, caught in this awkward hug that Megumi would never willingly be giving while awake. You laugh at the face he’s making. Carefully, gently, one hand goes to Megumi’s back. He scoops him up to carry him out of his seat, holding him as you lock the car. 

Somewhere in the future, Gojo Satoru steps onto the battlefield and knows he’s going to have to kill his boy. He only hopes to bring his body home for Yuuji, for the woman he loves, and for himself. Megumi deserves at least that much from him. 

Here, in the present, Gojo cradles this little body in his arms, more fragile than anything he’s ever been allowed to hold before, and feels his heart swell with an emotion he can’t quite name. All he can do is hold on, gripping your hand as he gives himself over to a force greater than himself for the first time. 

There’s a rising sense of panic in his throat. He’s never been in charge of something so small. It feels as if he’s holding the world in the palm of his hands and it terrifies him. He looks at you, pleading. Asking you to take it from him. It’s too much. 

He’s the strongest, but his heart feels stretched to its limits. It’s hard to breathe with how much he feels in this moment, overwhelming love and a desire to protect. He wants to keep this thing safe from everything in the world that could hurt it. He doesn’t understand what he’s feeling - it hurts. 

It hurts so good. 

This pain is the most beautiful thing he’s ever felt in his whole life. It’s a holy kind of hurt. It feels like Toji sticking the knife through his throat if he had willingly lowered his head and let it happen. He’s so scared of it, drowning in a riptide he can’t control. He wants you to save him from himself. 

He needs you to take this away from him. 

This is something he would ruin himself for. He can’t bear it. 

You press closer, laying your head on his other shoulder as you wrap your arms around them both. He’s breathing shallowly, trying not to disturb the quiet dreamer in his arms. The burden is enormous, but you don’t take it from him. You shoulder it with him, letting yourself fall into the current too. 

It’s humbling to be trapped by a force that Gojo had always thought he would be free from. The first time was bad enough. He had never wanted to experience it again, especially not like this. He made himself strong so he wouldn’t have to feel that vulnerability ever again. 

Even the strongest makes mistakes. This feeling is inescapable.