#pro marathoner

[prodigal-sunlight]

What do u have against ai? :(

How much time do you have?

1. Generative AI is trained on the works of artists and writers without consent or compensation. It’s literally stealing from actual people. And no, it isn’t “learning like a real person” because it isn’t a real person. It’s a program that is incapable of creating anything new of its one. All generative AI is built on theft by corporations from small independent creators.

2. It uses considerably more power than most other current technology. Like, arguably it is worse for the environment than NFTs. The amount of water it wastes is absurd, the uptick in energy usage is absurd.

3. Corporations are salivating at the chance to cut creative people out of products. They don’t want to pay people for their work because they don’t respect art and artists. As long as we live under a capitalist system, people need to be able to own what they create and be able to provide for themself with their own skills.

4. The misinformation and disinformation generative AI can cause and has ALREADY caused is insane. People have had their faces and voices stolen without consent or compensation. People can generate believable deepfakes of politicians and social figures that will degrade the truth and potentially even damage our already messed up political climate. How would you feel if someone posted a realistic video of you praising a product you never bought? Or vouching for a politician you hate? Or saying you think all gay people should die?

5. This one is just personal, but I don’t care what a machine “makes.” Creativity is special to me because it lets you see the world through someone else’s eyes. Art of all kinds—writing, art, music, roleplay—is a kind of communication. I want to communicate with people, not an inanimate object mimicking what a person would be like. The joy of art comes from creation. Reducing it to only consumption is a disservice to all humankind.

Certain scientific fields have genuine uses for other kinds of AI, and I respect that. But Generative AI is built on theft and disrespect; at best its used for shallow art that someone didn’t care enough about to make themself, at worst its used for scams, disinformation, and stripping away even more of people’s rights.

I legitimately believe there is no current ethical uses for Generative AI. Will there be one day? Its possible, but I honestly find that unlikely. For now, though, if you are pro Generative AI, please unfollow me.

I may not be the most talented artist/writer out there, but I have enough self-respect that I don’t want people who see me as replaceable by machines engaging with my creative works. I put a lot of time, passion, and love into my work. Someone who sees that as equal in worth to something an algorithm spat out in five seconds is not welcome here.

[aurus-3d]

Evening by the fireplace

One of my biggest renders, yet. Spent more then 20 hours non-stop on it. The scene consists of more then 300 objects with around 5mil polygons in total. Really freaking proud of myself

[harriertail]

My WC Anti gf (jokingly) just convinced me to get the cover redraw zine 🫶

StarClan sends signs in many ways.....

[leoni-thekingteam]

fabio running a 10k of 34 minutes is insane btw

[missathlete31]

Personal post but I finally got my “Super Bowl Ring” for the Pro Football Hall of Fame Half Marathon!

So excited!!! 🏈🏈

[mja]

Somewhere in the Heavens … It is Waiting

[swimmingferret]

I just want you to know that I think about Red and Vergil so much I was watching playthroughs of a puzzle game series with like 20% backstage lore and now I can't stop thinking about Skinned Hearts 'The Room' au.

An unknowable power source that traps people and few rarely survive it + shady organization that wants to use it? It's perfect for Red. also it's a good game series...

I'm guess you don't mean the Tommy Wiseau movie, right? 'Cause that's the only Room I can think of lmao

Tho what you describe sorta sounds like the Cube movies where it's just ambiguous murderous surroundings which seems the type of thing Hell would be into. Tho what would Hell citizens be called? Hellions?

[multitrackdrifting]

ballistic, the new apex legend gives his team increased reload speed, and strafe speed during his ult and he carries a third gun that gets fully modified to the maximum rarity once his ultimate is activated. basically he turns the game into CoD

[breakoutrunning]

Think you’re a “shoe-in” for that new PR?

Maybe, maybe not. But we can tell you this much. It’s not the fancy carbon plated shoe, but the runner wearing the shoe, and the body of work they have put forward, that matter most.

Shoes don’t make you stronger and faster. Smart training does that. You can’t “Vaporfly” your way to to a new PR, BQ or any other type of breakout performance if you haven’t put in the work necessary to set yourself up for success

If you have done the work to be ready for the big day, and you’re looking for that little extra edge that just might put you over the top, then sure, go ahead and buy the shoes. Think of them as a reward for the hard work you have done, for putting yourself in a position to succeed. In this case, they might make the difference.

Just don’t think of them as a silver bullet.

[thesunsethour]

ran 1.5km this morning (best i’ve done yet!) but my body… it aches…

[thewynne]

This. Coming from Philadelphia, starting at the local level works.

Philly's charter mandates more than one party on City Council; even if one party sweeps the vote, at least two at-large city council seats HAVE to go to a second party or independent candidate. That made space for a progressive 3rd party, Working Families Party, to successfully run a candidate for one of the minority at-large seats in 2019. Once they knew it was possible, WFP ran a second candidate in 2023 and successfully got them into the second seat.

As of the last City Council election the minority leaders are leftist progressive 3rd party members on a Democratic-majority board; there are 3 parties on our City Council and the lone Republican comes from one red district in the northeast. And with that clout, leftist 3rd parties like WFP and the local DSA are also working to leverage the local dems into running more progressive candidates on their slates as well.

What nobody understands about American politics is that creating a third party big enough to compete with the top two is a project that would take at least ten to twenty years, meaning it would still not be viable for decades worth of elections. It would have to be built up slowly and steadily first for all that time. Currently there are none who can get even 1% of the vote. They're jokes. Additional parties exist only as a kind of nice gesture and tradition right now, barely getting news coverage other than novel curiosities.

In some other countries you can vote for your "preferred" choice and if they lose, your vote goes to your backup choices. Not in America. You get one vote for one guy and if they lose your vote evaporates.

Also, the electorates get the majority voting power and even if everyone in a district voted for a third party, every electorate is dedicated to voting either Republican or Democrat and will still do so. The time to urge people to support a third party is basically an ENTIRE GENERATION ago, or you can start now, with the understanding that it may, with enough effort, have a shot at presidency in time for your grandchildren to vote, if you can ensure there are some 50-100 million people in the country united under that party's clearly stated ideals by that time.

[vonlipvig]

me: i'm the king, i can literally do whatever i want, whenever i want to!

the game:

[geekanoids]

Creative Outlier Free Pro+ Wireless Waterproof Bone Conduction Headphone...

[bitchimasnake-sss]

☆ oliver aiku vs. his ex!

synopsis: oliver aiku was always a ladies' man. a sadistic one, at that. he enjoyed playing with emotions, enjoyed being in control, enjoyed ruining women at the whims of his heart and dick. so, when he decides he's had enough of his cheerleader!gf and breaks up... why does she not look upset? in fact, why is she brushing him off, acting like he didn't mean shit to her?? huh? guess it's upto him to remind you just what a wonderful boyfriend he is. pairing: pro soccer player!oliver aiku x cheerleader!gf cw: hate-sex. marathon sex. making a sex tape. nsfw includes: fingering, penetration, creampie, oliver being a bitch and lowkey toxic. NOT PROOFREAD. wc: 2.9k

oliver aiku wasn't an actor by profession. no, he was a soccer player. the entire world knew that by now, you knew that by now.

yet the way he had clasped his hand — intertwining his digits — and looked at you with his pretty face all furrowed, you may as well given him an oscar for best actor.

"it hurts me to do this. it really fuckin' does." oliver nodded, splaying his large palm against his muscled chest, "but, i'm afraid it's just not working out between us."

you almost wanted to laugh in his face.

so, this is why he had booked a reservation at the same restaurant he had asked you out at just two months prior.

you could recall that night as if it was yesterday. the winds were unforgiving as you had sat on the same table in the same balcony area. that night, his heterochrome eyes were locked in on yours and he smiled so softly when he asked you out. words candied, so awfully, awfully sweet: "'s you and me, baby. forever."

how funny that forever lasted 2 month and 6 days.

now, the same dim overhead lighting panted the man in a subtle glow, hiding his dark intentions just as well as it hid the dips and curves of his facial features.

he reached for your hand on the table, methodically rubbing circles into your skin as his eyes bore into yours. he repeated, "you get me, right, baby?"

you almost did laugh in his face.

stifling your amusement under the guise of sadness, you nodded, "i understand it all, oliver. all too well, at that."

you knew oliver was a sadistic man, a man that replaced women with the flick of his fingers. something in him got off at their spluttering breaths, their wide eyes as they tried to ask him questions: but why? why do you want to break-up? oliver, why? why, why, why?

too bad you weren't one of those girls at oliver aiku's feet.

maybe he had forgotten that you had known him for ages, that you were well-versed with his tactics — being the captain of the national japanese cheerleading team. maybe he had forgotten that you knew what kind of man he was long before he started chasing after you. and maybe he had forgotten that if he tried to ruin you, you'd ruin him thrice over.

covering his larger palm with yours much smaller ones, you leaned forward. the swell of your tits was a sight to see, your cleavage so delicious against that low-cut dress but it was your words that made oliver aiku question his sanity, "i really get you, oli. with your career and mine, it's just so hard to make this work. i was gonna suggest the same. we should really break up."

what?

whatever flickers of amusement were left in his heterochrome eyes turn to ashes, sinking within his tanned skin as he physically froze. his eyes took you in, words barely pushing past his lips, "what?"

"you're right." you patted his hand sympathetically, "we should break-up, baby."

the two of you sat in silence, basking each-other in as the chatter in the background faded off. suddenly, the sensual ambience of the restaurant turned into one of stark... confusion...?

the man opened his mouth, pretty lips parting before closing again, and again, and again like a goddamn fish out of water.

"right. right." the man finally breathed out, shifting backwards in his seat and nodding, "i'm glad we both agree then."

"thanks for the meal, oliver." you smiled, pulling your hands back to your lap. your posture straightened, eyes tangling against his in such a cruel dance. "i'm so glad we could end this mutually."

"of course," the man rasped, trying to mask his disappointment at your level-headed tone.

why weren't you in shambles yet?

his lips wobbled as they fell into a smile, and the gesture left some sort of sick, twisted satisfaction in your gut.

oliver grit out, "i'm glad too."

that was two weeks ago, and you had walked away from the restaurant with heart well and intact. oliver aiku was a language you were well-versed in, after all. he was destruction, ruination, he was everything you should stay away from.

but now... the real question was: if oliver aiku was soo glad that you broke up, then why was he running towards you after winning the championship quarter-finals?

sweat dripped off the planes of his cheeks, down his jaw and into his jersey. he cleared his throat, completely ignoring your teammate who had been talking to you seconds prior. his eyes zeroed in on you, "oh, didn't see you there."

the man huffed, eyeing you in your tight-fitting uniform. the man in question smirked, keeping up with his own nonchalant attitude, "how ya doin', sweets?"

"didn't see me?" you repeated with a jump in your brows, "you didn't see the cheer team throughout the match? have you lost your vision, aiku? or worse, your mind?"

"oh? have i?" the slight, seductive lilt in his voice never gave up and you stared daggers at him, "what is it, aiku?"

"how was that, huh?"

"how was what?"

"my... play? the game?" the man slowed his speech down as if you were not comprehending him thoroughly.

"good, i guess?" you shrugged, still turned towards the teammate that seemed to sense the tension between you two. as if on cue, she left you to alone. walking away with the signature ponytail swaying with each graceful step.

you dragged your gaze back to the man and waited for him to spill. and spill, he did.

"i was thinking about the break-up." he finally fessed, a hand flying up to tame his unruly hair, "and i think it may have been a mistake."

a smirk threatened to break out on your lips but being a woman of class, you cooed instead, "but i do think it was the right decision. i don't think we should get back together, oli."

"what? f'real?" he panted, wiping a hand to get rid of the sweat that was cascading down his forehead.

you just hummed.

"what? jus' asking." and he grinned — unabashed, uncaring that the whole world might make when they see his crazed expression, "dont'cha miss me? be honest. don't you miss my dick? bet i can get you to come back with just an one night sta—"

"—nah, you're too tiny, aiku. it won't get the work done."

of course, the former captain didn't lose his cool. instead, he laughed — the kind that made your skin crawl and sent a violent, hot throb down to your core. his heterochrome eyes narrowed in some sort of evil satisfaction and he dragged his hand over his stubble so, so slowly.

he finally leaned in, "you want me to ruin you? ya wanna gamble your life like that?"

"can you?" you paused, purposefully looking at him with those doe-eyes, "can you 'ruin me', oliver?"

"hah." he pulled back, giving you an easy smile, "trying to push all my buttons? you have no idea how this'll end for you."

you nodded, "you think you'd scare me, aiku?"

"baby..." his voice was a drawl, words so well-pronounced, "i'd do you worse than that."

maybe you forgot that if you tried to ruin oliver aiku thrice over, he would go for a nasty total of four times instead.

"oli— a-aiku." your breath stuttered as his silhouette became blurry. hot tears pricked at your lash-line as he bullied his digits deeper and deeper into your cunt once more.

his pace was inhumane, fingers still playing against your gummy walls till he found the spot that was your kryptonite. and then, he kept assaulting that very spot over and over again. over n' over n' over again till your back arched and moans tore out of your throat so pathetically.

"i can't. i can't. ca-can't." you babbled — fucked so dumb on his thick fingers — as he tried to pull your fourth orgasm out of you, "a-aiku."

"ah." he hummed, his fingers fucking into you so, so mean. his pace slowed only so that you could focus on his rough voice, "tch, look right here."

his digits moved with purpose, their purpose being your ruination. and you lost yourself in the feeling of your stomach tightening, another violent orgasm trying to pry itself out of your aching body.

you were pulled into reality with a harsh squeeze of your cheeks. your teary eyes widened, wobbling lips falling into a forced pout as oliver repeated himself, "look into the fuckin' camera, doll."

"o-okay." your eyes dragged upwards from man to the tripod set at the edge of the bed. your shaky vision took in the metallic luster of his phone and you tried to focus.

"okay," he rasped, "now tell 'em how good i'm fucking ya." he cut himself off with a laugh, "ah, wait i haven't even fucked you yet and you're still so fucked out, isn't it?"

"no-oh." a harsh slap to your throbbing clit had your head rolling backwards. oliver hummed, "i asked you to speak up," another harsh slap had you gasping, "so, speak the fuck up."

"i-" your voice wavered pathetically, eyes barely focused on the camera that was perched a few meters apart, "i fuckin' hate oliver aiku."

"oh?" his amused laugh hit your core, hot breath playing with your overstimulated cunt. his fingers steadied, the impending orgasm that was just now knocking at your door dissipated with each drawled out second.

"oh?" he laughed again, this time slowly pulling his fingers out, "you hate me?"

"i- i do." you almost cringed at the weak resolve in your voice, and cringed once again as you failed to meet his eyes. oliver stared daggers at you, pushing his pretty fingers past his hungry lips to finally taste you.

"hmm," he hummed against his digits, popping them out lewdly, "you taste so fuckin' sweet but you're a mean, lil' thing. aren't ya?"

"yeah, i am. why?" as your body finally caught a break from his unyielding acts, your voice grew firmer, "are you having a tough time handling me?"

"you're so cute." the soccer player raised himself upwards and caged you in under him, muscled back rippling with each step forward. his fingers hooked under your chin, voice so soft, "why do you hate me?"

the very next second, he was off you. clad only in his boxers, oliver aiku carried himself to his phone and removed it off the tripod. bringing the device to you, he started a new video, "how about you tell all the reasons you hate me to the camera?"

"wh-huh?"

the phone was handed over into your shaking hands and you stared at your flushed face in the front camera as the camera kept on recording. your eye makeup was a mess, highlighter and blush smudged as lipstick dragged off of your lips to your chin.

"go on." oliver dragged his boxers down and you to his lap. with one smooth motion, his achingly hard cock was inside your abused cunt.

"o-li-ver." his words were mere syllables as your eyes clasped shut. his hips rutted upwards, his strong hands wrapping around your waist as he kept fucking into you. the mushroom tip dragging so deliciously against your g-spot.

"go on," he grit, words a desperate command, "tell the camera w-why you hate me, doll."

"first, you're so me-mean sometimes." you caught your face contorting into pleasure as oliver kept up with his pace.

"am i?"

"mhm." you nodded, one hand shakily clasping the camera and another wrapping around his shoulders to stablize yourself. he dragged his lips down your jaw, his stubble a familiar scratch against your skin, "what else?"

"you keep flirt—ingh ah, ah, ah wi—with other women, oli." he inhaled your scent, obscenely licking at the thin layer of perspiration on your neck, "and?"

"and you're s-sho," your words slurred at his sudden hard thrust within you, "pretentious."

he smiled against your skin, words so scratchy as your velvety walls milked him to his demise, "using big words now, pretty?"

your eyes met his in a lewd, charged dance. the long-forgotten video still getting filmed in the background as he captured your lips in a messy kiss; all teeth and spit and sins.

"'m not dumb like ya," you breathed against his kiss-bitten lips for a bare second before your lips clashed against his again. a strong hand travelled up your spine, the touch so intimate as he pounded his cock up into your cervix.

"o-oli," your hand shook, another wrapping around him as your hardened nipples rubbed against his hard, muscled body, "'m gonna cum."

"not yet." the man babbled, "not yet. not yet. finish telling the camera why you hate me."

"i ha-te you." you nodded, eyes drooping dangerously as you tried to speak into the phone, "i hate oli 'cause he only da-dated me to... fuck, oli. he dated me jus' to break up."

"did you not wanna break up?" the man cooed, though the undertones of his voice revealed the dark satisfaction of your admission, "ya said ya wanted it."

"i— i did."

"an' now?" his eyes bore into your face, words so desperate that they dangled at the edge of insanity, "say you love me."

your eyes widened, sanity clearing only for a moment to deny his hurling accusations, "i don't."

a harsh roll of his hips had your eyes rolling back again, had your manicured nails sinking into his tanned skin and had your jaw slacking open just for his to kiss you senseless.

"say it." he mumbled against your lips, drunk on you, "jus' say it. say y-you love me, doll."

you found yourself losing your senses as he fucked into you with one harsh rut and then another, and another. a hand snaked lazily between your writhing, sweaty bodies to play against you long-neglected clit, "c'mon. spill, doll."

"i do." you nodded finally, lips wettened by your crazed kisses and body molding to his corrupt touches, "i love you, oli."

"good girl." he smiled against your glossed lips, "say you want me back."

you repeated after him, a mindless husk of a woman at his disposition, "i wan' you ba-ah fuck 'm gonna cum."

"say it."

"i wantyouback." your words mushed together as you finally felt your orgasm clash against your own body. your thighs shook, the limbs closing tightly against his well-defined waist and his phone dropped from your limp grasp onto the luxurious bed.

"good girl, jus' like that." oliver nodded, his words so very dark as you finally fell limp against his body. his hand methodically soothed you, rubbing patterns into your back as he fucked his erection right into your overstimulated core.

heavy breaths stuttered out of your used body, eyes clasping shut at the feel of his warmth against your entire skin and the mess he was making against your puffy folds.

"fuuuck." his hips came to a stutter, arms growing tighter against your ribcage as the man emptied himself within your inviting, plush cunt with a pornographic moan, "fuckin' hell, i forgot just how good you feel like this."

the sticky, white-ish liquid dribbled past your fluttering cunt and pooled within you two. oliver pushed you a mere inches away to bring his hands to your face. as his heterochrome eyes burned into yours, the warmth from his palm seemed to seep into your cold cheek... but now, his touch felt too hot, as if it would char you.

oliver aiku gave you a smile — a dangerous one — and the dimple in his cheek came alive, "i'm so happy we're back together, baby."

wait, what???

but before you could question him, before you could take a pause and wonder aloud, his syrupy lips caught yours and he shushed you, "shh, 's okay. jus' go to sleep, baby. i'll clean you up, okay?"

"but oli—"

"—baby." his words were gentle, actions so soft as he laid you down on the bed and kissed your forehead, "just sleep, doll. we can talk tomorrow, right?"

and you nodded. how could you not as he dragged his strong palms up and down your sore body and mumbled sweet nothings into the pliant, night air?

the next morning, as the sun shone past his glass windows and onto your sleepy face, you saw a half-dressed oliver hovering on the side of the bed.

"what?" you asked lazily, rubbing the sleep off of your eyes. half aware that you were still in his bed, you stared at him confused.

"what?" he repeated with a dopey smile.

"what'dyou want?" your words slurred, the morning voice creeping in within the syllables.

"nothing." oliver grinned, bending down to boop your nose with his index, "jus' wanted to say goodmorning to my beautiful girlfriend."

your eyes widened, body shooting up so fast that your forehead collided against his dense head, "—ouCH!"

"jesus," the man staggered, rubbing the area you had assaulted with his index and middle finger, "what?!"

"you were serious about that?!"

"you were not?" he quipped, and you shook your head as if he was the insane one, "obviously not."

"ah," oliver aiku nodded — as if in a deep thought — before looking down at you. flickers of amusement swam in his irises, lips lopsided and twisted as he looked at you as if you were his personal lab rat, "well, too bad we're back together now, doll."

what the fuck.

a/n: OLIVER AIKU THE MAN YOU AREEE. I LOVE TO HATE YOU. MY CRINGEFAIL HUSBAND FOREVER MWUAH MWUAH. tagging: @moodswing101 @actuallynarii @5hoe1 @mininji @scara-simp69 @heartfeltstarry @keimorii because like why, not?

[nana-au]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘

Satoru Gojo ♡ short drabble

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Your best friend gets jealous when your childhood friend reenters your life

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: not proofread, sensual teasing (no smut yet), jealousy/possessiveness ...if that is something you dislike

₊˚ପ⊹ an: i’m baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack. srry this is short, my mental health and work have been kicking my ass </3

MDNI

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Satoru Gojo doesn't know how to admit his feelings to you - or even himself really. He's already weighed out the pros and cons when it comes to confessing to you. He's thought of every scenario possible while he lays awake in his bed at night, the moonlight peaking through his curtains illuminating the smooth skin of his chest as he lays deep in thought.

He was content with keeping his feelings to himself for quite some time. It used to be so easy. All he had to do was look into your soft eyes, listen to your melodious laughter, and smell the sweetness of your shampoo to be certain he didn't want to do anything that might risk him never being able to experience you again. That was until your childhood best friend made a reappearance in your life.

He tried so hard to be cool with him - to be cool with how close the two of you were even after all that time apart. Hanging out with the both of you felt like third wheeling. You two would walk side by side, leaving Gojo to walk on the sidewalk behind you. You both shared inside jokes that Gojo wasn't privy to. He would stuff his hands into his pant's pockets, eyes piercing a hole into the back of your friend's head. He couldn't even offer a smirk when he dragged laugh after laugh from your shaking form. You would look at him questioningly, silently asking if he was alright. If you didn't look so worried, he wouldn't have even bothered to assure you he was fine. But you did look worried for him, and it crushed him. So he would put on a brave face.

Satoru had no choice but to deal with it. You weren't his. You can have friends. It shouldn't matter to him how close you both were. He was okay with the fact he would never be with you in that way, just to make sure he wouldn't risk the possibly of never seeing you again. Keyword: Was.

Your bothersome friend had invited himself to yours and Gojo's plans, again. He didn't even bother hiding his icy glare this time. It was maddening how you let him rest his arm on your shoulder or that you didn't notice him sniffing your hair every time he whispered a joke in your ear. Gojo and you had started a movie marathon when your friend invited himself inside your home. After an entire movie of watching that asshole piss all over you, marking you as his, Gojo decided he could no longer sit idly by.

At the end of the first movie, you took a moment to use the bathroom, and when you sat back down on the couch Gojo didn't waste a second pulling you into his side. His arm wrapped around your back and rested on your thigh, brushing against your bare skin. Your eyes grew wide, looking shocked at Gojo's actions. It wasn't rare for you two to cuddle, but something felt different about this time. His hand squeezed your thigh when he noticed your friend looking at the way he held you. Fortunately for the both of them, you were still unaware as to what was occurring.

Halfway through the second movie you began to realize you had no idea what was even going on in it. You couldn't keep track of the characters - you were utterly confused by the plot. Nothing was making sense. Especially not the way Gojo was toying with your shorts and breathily laughing into your ear at the movie's jokes. You wouldn't have even realized the movie was a comedy if not for the way his breath caused your hair to tickle your neck.

Your friend sat at the other end of the couch, his chin resting on his hand that was propped up by the arm of the couch. He was silently seething, unable to pay attention to the movie, but for a completely different reason from you. Gojo could barely contain his amusement at finally being the one dishing out misery, not the one receiving it.

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your hip, his thumb digging under the waistband of your shorts. Unfortunately for your friend, Gojo was not going to hold back. And unfortunately for you, his touch was driving you crazy. It took almost all of your energy focusing on not rubbing your thighs together, ignoring the heat between your legs begging for some relief. You had spent most of your friendship ignoring your own feelings for Satoru, not believing he could ever share the same feelings that you have for him. (You both are sooo stupid) But the way his long fingers subtly squeezed your bare skin so close to where you have dreamt of him being, you weren't sure how much longer you could keep your desire inside.

Gojo had no intentions of letting you out of his reach for the rest of the day. When you decided to order a pizza, Gojo made sure to note that your friend parked behind the both of you, so he should be the one to go and pick it up. He had to give it to the guy, he was a trooper. He sighed loudly, begrudgingly agreeing and finally leaving the two of you alone.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Smut is to be continued...

pt. 2 out now

[reportwire]

Public Bitcoin Miners Fight For Survival

Public Bitcoin Miners Fight For Survival

The below is an excerpt from a recent edition of Bitcoin Magazine Pro, Bitcoin Magazine’s premium markets newsletter. To be among the first to receive these insights and other on-chain bitcoin market analysis straight to your inbox, subscribe now. Record Downward Difficulty Adjustment The mining industry continues to take a beating as rising energy inflation, debt burdens and depressed bitcoin…