#real truth hard facts
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
blogjeepster · 1 year ago
Text
0 notes
lilrebelkat69 · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
47 notes · View notes
answersfromzestual · 1 year ago
Text
Can I have top surgery and be overweight? The Truth.
I am here to clear things about being overweight and top surgery (aka double mastectomy).
Can I have chest surgery if I am overweight? Blanket answer, yes you can.
HOWEVER, let's talk about some things first.
As soon as we peek under my blanket statement, most doctors will not want to touch you if you are too far outside their BMI index. Sounds like a preference, right? I mean, true, but they are a business and, like any other business, can refuse service for any reason. Especially when your life is in their hands.
The BMI index is followed to a degree by most plastic surgerons. This index is not to body shame you in this case. It is strictly for medical reasons. There are many medical reasons to refuse the surgery.
As you lay flat on your back, your own weight presses on your lungs and heart. This can actually cause damage your heart and lungs and also restrict your breathing even further.
Anesthesia issues are a lot deeper than most people realize. It is not just a harmless gas to keep you asleep. Anesthesia is poisonous to us, and it does more harm to your body the longer you are under its direct effect. Also, the more you weigh, the more they have to use. The best anesthesiologists in the world probably would have a hard time with this, especially depending on how long you can potentially be under. The more you weigh means more tissue they need to work with and extra time can mean complications not only while under the drug but can cause many complications after the procedure is done, and even when you wake up. Issues include headaches/migranes, intense nausea, vertigo like symptoms, having a hard time passing urine, lack of gross and fine motor functions, brain functions, paralysis, coma, and death.
Blood flow issues for people who are overweight are a real risk. The skin has stretched over time , and more skin, along with viable tissue, is thinner, with less of a blood supply being delivered to the skin and tissues itself.
Being overweight also means your skin is stretched and no longer has the same elasticity as if you were not overweight. This thin skin is easy to pull apart/tear.
Time in the operating room, more is not better. The longer you are being operated on, the more complications can occur during the procedure and during the healing process. (This is also a general risk)
Upping complications means more likely needing revisions. Plastic surgerons take this into consideration for your health. Insurance probably won't shell out for the same operation twice because of the views on transitioning lead to a lot of "this is just cosmetic."
Diabetes exponentially increases risk of infection and potential necrosis and gangrene (death of tissue).
You are a living canvas for the plastic surgeron(s), your results reflect highly on them. They want the best results for you, but they also have a reputation to upkeep.
If the surgeon gives a condition they consider reasonable and the patient does not produce results near their actual target BMI, which tends to be more liberal than the numbers that are thrown around, the surgeon can question the patients ability to be able to take care of themselves and adhere to the strict rules given for post operative care. A surgeon can also think "does this person want it bad enough if they can't do this request?". They may not say that out loud, but they may think it.
The heavier you are, the harder it is on your body to heal because the extra work your body needs to do to do daily tasks, let alone extra tasks yet also rest.
You do not realize how much and how often you use your chest muscles. Getting out of bed without being able to lift yourself up is really a thing. Using those muscles in some cases can cause rips and tears of stitches, tissues, and muscles.
Surgeons will give you realistic, cis-like results with your chest, this may mean you will not have a flat chest, they may perform more of a reduction than a double mastectomy. Surgeons will make your chest look proportional to your body, hence another surgery if you do lose weight.
Do they want you to have bad results? This is a physical correction to make a positive mental impact if you have bad results post-op. This may not really fulfill the function of procedures purpose to help you like your body.
Doctors want to know you want this surgery, so if they give you a time frame and you don't meet their goals, that's fair. You may have seen your day to day but the surgeron didn't and doesn't care. To them, you didn't meet their goals/ requirements. No surgeon wants to lose their job, role, or status.
Surgeons only want what's best for your health. It's not a shaming conspiracy, it's literally just biology.
Waiting sucks, we know. But what sucks more is that having bad results, you will have forever and potentially risking your life.
Source List:
Anesthesia 1
Anesthesia 2
Anesthesia 3
Anesthesia and Obesity
Surgery 1
Surgery 2
Post Op Risk
Minimal use of being overweight during a procedure personal experience.
P.s: I tried to use respectful and professional terms and wording. If anything is offensive, please let me know in my ask box, and I will fix it.
Stay Safe
Stay Golden Everyone ✌️ 💙 💜
31 notes · View notes
felineandhustle · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
todayisafridaynight · 10 months ago
Note
it’s actually kinda crazy how the rggo stories are real lol genuinely felt like i was reading fanfiction. They 100% had a minedai shipper hiding among the rggo writers
Tumblr media
iirc one of the writers for rggo was. Not To Say A Minedai Shipper HOWEVER he was pretty earnest about how good together daigo and mine were so ..... not too far from the truth me thinks .....
12 notes · View notes
robertsbarbie · 26 days ago
Text
just a reminder: you are not immune to propaganda. you are not immune to misinformation. you are not immune to facing hard truths. you are not immune to needing to think critically about EVERYTHING you read online. the world isn't an algorithm! and an app that has permanently hurt many aspects of society should not be what you hinge your life, experiences, and knowledge on.
3 notes · View notes
starryeyed-seer · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Also!!!! I'd never seem this before but BAZAAR THOUGHTS.... aaaaaaaa
It sounds so tired. Sick of being a Courier. Wants a home.
Tumblr media
he's lonely :(
I mean yeah. We been knew but. Poor sad crab
Tumblr media
the bazaar.... (<- I think this often). Curled up under the blankets shivering... If you're cold they're cold: steal a city
I think this is the only mention of the sun being "cruel, furious, rejecting" about whatever the Bazaar's line-crossing was. I've long thought it was a confession of Love— naming feelings that can never be true, asking the sun for more than it can give. reciprocation.
Tumblr media
the bazaar likes breaking into people's basements to steal their snacks: confirmed.
#Mask of the rose spoilers#Fallen london spoilers#Holds back on very long discussion of what I think the sun rejection might be if you want to read it as. No. Wait.#Look the sun Cruel and Furious is like. I think only hard mention of the sun being really upset at the bazaar about the Line#Betwixt us and the Sun is why i think the turning point was a confession of Love. I think they had a... what do people say now Situationshi#The bazaar in LOVE but the sun not expressing it back. The bazaar decides to confess and asks for reciprocation. The Sun grows angry#You can interpret that pretty directly as the sun being an asshole or simply using the bazaar. But it's notable that the Bazaar is fine#Depressed but fine. As in Judgements are NOT merciful chill guys generally and the bazaar crossed a line and lives#The bazaar in fact worked for the sun afterwards totally chill beyond being sad. There's no suggestion of punishment only rejection#That seems to suggest some level of. Something for the bazaar from the sun right. Bc why not kill or erase its mind? But it didn't#Let us note the sun could be simply a dick and move on. Another read: their relationship is forbidden whatever it is#Acknowledging it as love. As real. Makes it real. Correspondence is truth and dictates reality. The Sun confessing would make it more True#And if their relationship is discovered at all the sun bazaar and stone will be put on trial and into some torment nexus#....with the bazaar wanting a home and not to be a courier it also supports my theory the bazaar wants ascension#Sudden wash of sunlight suggests that to me. This does too.#Also yeah I think the sun could have rejected the bazaar and immediately sent a love letter to another star to like. Make a point#SEE. I am a star I can only love stars! You are not a star!! (And then gets rejected immediately)
5 notes · View notes
chirpsythismorning · 2 years ago
Text
☎️🎲 🤼‍♂️ ✈️🚪 ➡️ 🫀🎮⌛️
Slipping Through My Fingers by ABBA
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
previous ⏮️ now playing ⏭️ next back to playlist
#platonic elmike#stranger things#bizarre love triangle playlist#mike wheeler#mike's pov#mike is still a hard nut to crack for me...#this scene in particular i'm still not certain about#i do think it was riddled with his very consistent tactic of stalling#but he's also of course relieved to hear el say she missed him#perhaps this is him thinking "oh thank god she doesn't hate me'#while also having to accept in real time that will was perhaps right that el still needs him... but is he up for the task of el's bf?...#and so he's sort of trying to work out how he can finally just do this to do right by el#which comes with the fear that he is indeed going to lose her when it all comes crashing down inevitably like it already has and is#either way i think he's contending with the fact that losing el may be inevitable#that's why he's having such a hard time lying to her in the first place#bc he knows lies lead to the truth eventually being revealed#and so he just feels her slipping through his fingers no matter what he does#he imagined this future with her (and will) where they stayed connected to each other no matter what#but mike's scared that future won't be possible once all is revealved#i think will's whole speech in the van has mike even more conflicted#bc his feelings for will are very strong at this point#and so even if he believes that this is truly how el feels as of now...#he also probably knows deep deep down that he wishes (still hopes) it was will's feelings#which makes going through with this even harder#not to mention all the parallels between mike and hopper ('not hopper...not mike... you!')#these two male figures in el's life who rescued her from a horrible situation are having a hard time coming to terms with her growing up#like yes she's growing and 'slipping through your fingers' but that's okay!#you don't have to lose her forever just because she doesn't have to rely on you anymore!#4x09#gif
16 notes · View notes
orcelito · 2 years ago
Text
trans wolfwood is the only wolfwood. To Me.
12 notes · View notes
aarontigan · 1 month ago
Text
This unfortunately applies to an alarming number of individuals in the world...
Tumblr media
62K notes · View notes
midnightwind · 19 days ago
Text
I am standing over chapter 2 of the fic while holding a giant axe and asking myself "is Renn going into detail to Varric about how she does her job as a Crow necessary, will people like this at all??"
Tumblr media
0 notes
blogjeepster · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
0 notes
lilrebelkat69 · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
31 notes · View notes
maskedbyghost · 3 months ago
Text
when simon wakes up in a hospital, the last thing you expect is for him to grab your hand, pull you close, and say, “hey, there you are, love.” his voice is so soft, so sure, it leaves you speechless. you stare at him, half in shock, because this is ghost—simon riley, the one person who’s kept every feeling locked up.
“simon, do you… do you remember anything?” you ask, testing the waters.
he blinks, looking at you with confidence. “of course, i remember. you’re my wife.”
you freeze. his wife? this is new, and you’re not sure where he got the idea, but before you can correct him, johnny walks in, taking one look at the two of you and biting back a grin. he leans in, whispering to you, “maybe just… go with it for now, eh?” he’s got that teasing glint in his eye, and something tells you there’s no harm in humoring simon for a bit, if it can be helpful for his recovery.
so, you go along with it. and to your surprise, simon doesn’t act confused—in fact, he’s more open with you than he’s ever been. suddenly, he’s holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, always looking for you, keeping you close, calling you “love” or “darlin’” in front of everyone. he’s even got that soft smile every time you catch his eye, one that makes it hard to remember this isn’t real.
the team’s amused but supportive, playing along with the whole story. simon keeps asking you little things, like what your favorite meal is, or how you usually spend your days when he’s away, as if filling in gaps in a life he believes you share. you find yourself answering with things that feel so genuine, and the way he listens—focused, attentive—feels more intimate than anything you’ve shared before.
one day, you’re patching up a minor scrape on his hand, and he just watches you, eyes soft, like he’s memorizing every detail. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. it’s so genuine, so open, that for a second, you forget it’s all just part of his memory loss.
then, one night, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, eyes serious. “do you ever think about us?” he asks softly, like he’s trying to get at something just out of reach. “how we’d be if things were… different?”
you’re not sure how to answer because there’s no script for this. “sometimes,” you admit, feeling a pang of something deep and unspoken. and for the first time, you’re almost grateful he can’t remember—because maybe, just maybe, it’s the only reason he’s letting himself be this vulnerable with you.
as the days pass, you start catching little glimpses, small things that make you wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on. he catches you watching him once, and instead of asking why, he just gives you this little smile, one that feels like he’s in on the secret. and just when you’re starting to think this is all some kind of twisted dream, he pulls you aside.
“i know i’m supposed to remember,” he whispers, “but i don’t want this to end. not yet.”
it’s in that moment you realize the truth. he’s been aware all along—he’s been pretending just as much as you, holding on to this fragile, temporary illusion because, maybe, he needs it just as much as you do.
--------------------------------------------
hii!! i'm backkk!! send some requests plsss, byee <333
@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving
14K notes · View notes
norikuna · 25 days ago
Text
WHAT HAPPENS IN THE PRISON REALM STAYS IN THE PRISON REALM ! ★ gojo satoru
Tumblr media
prologue ⋆ ★ just your luck, getting sealed in the prison realm with the strongest sorcerer of this day and age. well, he's typically the strongest. unless it comes to you.
pairing ⋆ ★ gojo satoru x reader genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab!reader, sorta crack 😭 — use of blindfold, incorrect use of jujutsu, óral (f), pànty-fúcking, desperate and FERAL gojo, màting press, brééding, cérvix kissin' and creàmpiés lmfao, óverstim...
word count ⋆ ★ 4.7k! a/n ⋆ ★ gorgeous art by the amazing @baobei-bu 💖 highly recommend checking out their twt 🤭
Tumblr media
"are you in the prison realm because ya' got sealed, or did you get sealed because you ended up in the prison realm?"
you grind tired molars together, willing your hands to stay put instead of wrapping around gojo satoru's wretched neck, "the fuck are you talkin' about?"
gojo just clicks his tongue lazily, sprawled out on the unsettling, clattering bones of the prison realm, "jus' musing. it's getting real existential here."
"it's been, what, two hours? and you're already losing it." you wrap your arms tightly around your knees, pulling them to your chest in some effort to combat the cool chill of this...prison. "you realise that this is literally all your fault though, right?"
gojo's eyes flutter open, sky-blue hues that glint with outrage, "what?" he's squawking, undignified, "don't start this again."
"oh, i will," you're jabbing a finger towards him, scowling, "i didn't have any beef with geto. not even after he went off the rails with all that murder shit. didn't do a damn thing to get stuck in here as well."
"oi," a shadow flickers over gojo's face, "whatever that thing is, it's not suguru. y'don't gotta' trust me on much else, but trust me on that."
eyes narrowing, you catch some truth in the sorcerer's defensive tone. whatever. not your circus, not your monkeys. you know better than to pick at gojo satoru's old wounds, "whatever, it's got his face. and you had one job last year when —"
gojo interrupts you with a faux, hacking cough that quickly melts into a groan. throwing his head back as though your tirade is a mere inconvenience, or a tiresome lecture. arms stretching upwards, long limbs unfolding as he arches his back.
phew. a sliver of pale skin peeks out from underneath the dark uniform of his jacket, smooth and taut over slabs of toned muscle, flashing just long enough to derail your thoughts.
"heh. no lookin', pretty," gojo snickers with half-lidded eyes, "what if i'm shy?"
a skull's clattering against the floor as you wrap your hands around rough bone, chucking it at gojo with all the force you can master. he's dodging it effortlessly, ugh. of course.
you don't hate gojo satoru. in fact, it would be a bold-faced lie to claim even a shred of dislike. far from it. your co-worker is...bearable in some circumstances, and it doesn't hurt that he's awfully easy on the eyes.
but nowhere in your grand master plan to bag the strongest sorcerer of the modern age did you imagine being sealed with him. there's a faint worry in the back of your head, wondering just how badly the world is falling apart outside. what, with that geto look-alike still running amok. tokyo? in flames. shibuya? well, you hope it's not rubble.
but it's hard to focus when gojo lounges in front of you, long legs stretched out and muscular thighs spread obnoxiously wide. he's absently tracing patterns on the eerie bones, "wanna' play rock-paper-scissors again?" sounding oddly chipper despite the dire fate of the world teetering on a knife's edge.
"we already did that. and you cheated."
"did not," gojo drawls, blue eyes disappearing to the back of his eyes in mock offense, "yer' just a sore loser."
a beat of silence, and then, "how about i spy?"
you raise a brow, glancing around at your five-star accomadation. the infinite expanse of dull bones and dismembered skulls, "fine. i spy with my little eye...an endless pile of bones. and an overgrown furby sitting right in front of me."
gojo whistles, low as he scrunches up his blindfold, tossing the black silk at you, "touché," head leaning back, groaning, "i'm jus' so bored."
"hah. if you were in here alone, you'd go mad," you mutter, scooching just a bit closer without thinking. this prison realm seems colder than it should be, and it's better to stay close for warmth, right? yeah. right, that's exactly what you tell yourself.
"probably. but it's not like we can crack this stupid place," gojo scowls, "trust me, spent the first hour givin' it my all. wasn't exactly expecting it either."
"yeah, i know," you sigh, avoiding the bright cerulean gaze that's currently resting on you, almost as though it's determined to take in the sight of you, "time doesn't pass in here, right? we're gonna' have to think of something."
the corner of gojo's mouth twitch, candy-pink lines curling up, "time stands still," and then, the man's giving you an odd, focused look that's almost sheepish, "besides, you're in here too, so i can't — y'know."
"you can't what?"
gojo snickers, whistling as he makes a quick, pumping motion over his abdomen, jerking his hand up and down, "you know."
you gape at the white-haired man, the sudden thump-thump of your heart rattling in your chest. it's ringing in your ears, "you're shameless," you mutter, dragging your gaze anywhere but him. the floor, the ceiling of this accursed place, anywhere but the faint amusement painting gojo's face.
"i never skip arm day."
you make a face, a faux-grimace, wondering how on earth you're attracted to this man. a charade and a pretense that you're keeping for yourself, because your neck is burning and heat creeps up your skin like a slow, curling flame. oh, you're a lost cause.
the laughter's melted from gojo's face, and the teasing spark in his eyes has given way to something suddenly more embarrassed, and flushed. expectant even, as there's a dusting of pink suddenly mottled on his cheekbones.
your gaze drops to his lap, mouth going a tad dry at the sudden, thick curve straining against his pants, "oh, y'serious. i mean, really, now? here?"
gojo scrambles backwards suddenly, folding his long legs beneath him like a panicked deer caught in the headlights, "hey. okay, wait! 'm stuck in here w'you and you're always looking so pretty and — don't make that face, hear me out." his ears are tipped with pink, just as obvious as the flush climbing up his neck, "and you're sitting so close, what am i meant to do? 'm only a simple man, sweetheart."
you swallow, as though there's a rough cotton ball caught in your throat, "this is really how you wanna' pass the time? i mean, we got eternity in here."
gojo's lips curl up again, maddening and cocky, as though he already knows the crass scenarios passing through your head, but theres a softer flash of vulnerability in his eyes. his gaze drops to your mouth, darkening with an expression that you've never seen on him before, "who's gonna know?"
your resolve snaps, and with it, all thoughts of the outside world. fuck it.
you're clambering forward, a sudden urge of want pushing you into his wide lap. not even giving him a chance to jest, and tease, or to say one more insufferable thing. your hands balance on gojo's broad shoulders for balance, pressing your mouth to his.
it's firm and certain, tasting the heat of his surprise and the faintest laugh that dies between you. you can taste something else as well, like cool and sweet mint. and blood, still hot and rearing from earlier fights.
gojo makes a muffled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a heady groan, and his hands suddenly come alive, rough palms sliding around your waist, pulling you so much closer. like he's holding a dream that might still disappear.
"heh, someone's just as needy," gojo murmurs, teeth grazing against the hot shell of your ear. the large expanse of his palm grazes at your chest, and a moan falls from your lips, arching your back into his touch, "s-shut up. i wasn't the one who h-had their legs spread, waiting for someone to climb on."
your groan leads gojo to make a sound like he's been wounded, desperate and tight against your skin. glossy mouth pressing at the curve of your throat, as fangs nip into the thin skin. leaving marks, this you know. cool hands slide under the hem of your own uniform, brushing gently over bare skin as his lips continue to chase your own.
sucking, and nipping at wherever his teeth can find, gojo's tugging at your top, pulling it off so you have little choice but to curl into him from the cold. chilled air hitting your bare skin, as he laughs, "aw, cold got to ya', eh? 's not to worry, i'll keep you nice and warm."
blue eyes that glow practically trained on the soft swell of your chest, reverent as though he had all the time in the world to take you in. which, at this point, gojo did. slicked lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cupped chest, white strands of hair falling over his face as he buries himself in, "i can take this off, right?" voice raspier, like rock against stone, in a lower register than you've ever heard it.
"wan' you too," you rock your hips sharper this time, more insistent, agains the hard bulge straining against his pants, "no-one's gonna' see, right?"
gojo's fingers deftly unclasp the hook, "hah, if they do, i'd rip their eyes out, can't have anyone else lookin' at m'girl like that," the strongest sorcerer in the world's gently peeling the fabric away. leaning in to kiss you again as though he's entirely drunk on the taste of you, and only you.
pale lips curling around your pert bud, hands softly pawing at your breasts as you gasp, and writhe, suddenly far more sensitive with each second that passes of gojo's attentive ministrations, "s-satoru, 'm feeling so —"
"so, what?" gojo grins, sucking a violet bruise right over your breasts, white lashes fluttering up to look at you, "yer' looking just as ruined as me, pretty."
"take them off," it's more of an order on your end, but gojo complies and he seems to know exactly what you want, exactly what you're talking about, as his hands dip to the waistband of your pants, long fingers pushing over your hips to centre themselves right where you're getting desperate for him.
"i've got ya', just carefully, yeah, lean back," he's flipping the two of you over, so he's leaning over you now, gently resting you on your discarded jacket, "heh, 'm just gonna' — yeah, there we go," hands pulling at your pants until he's tugged them off you, and gojo's eyes are wide at the sight of your drenched panties.
if you thought gojo satoru looked needy and whiny before, nothing prepares you for the sight of him gnawing at his glossy lower lip, eyes aglow as he seems to shudder, "wan' me to put the blindfold on ya', sweetheart? think we could have a lotta' fun like that, only if that's what y'want."
you eye the black silk that he discarded and tossed at you, not so long ago, pawing and reaching for it as gojo chuckles, "ohh, atta' girl, y'not gonna' need to do anything, but just lay back and use ya' words."
the snowy-haired man's surprisingly soft with it, pressing a tender kiss to your waiting lips, as he loops the fold over your eyes, obscuring your vision, "gojo's right here for ya', just relax."
you can hear the sharp hitch rock his breath, his hand mildly pressed onto your thighs as he gently nudges your thighs apart, and you can feel the chill of the air sting at your hot, sopping folds.
"s-so pretty," the strongest is slurring his words, "yer' practically dripping onto my hand and i've barely touched her. barely even gotten a good, fuck, a good taste."
"i know we're meant'ta be getting outta' this place," gojo murmurs, breath hot against your slicked panties, "but i really would lose my mind if i didn't get to do this first."
'this' being gojo pressing a quick kiss to the soaked fabric, and you can feel him smile against your thigh as you whine at the sensation, with each movement being so much more electric and heightened with the blindfold covering your vision.
"heyyy," gojo mutters, feeling at your thighs clench and kick, "no need to get antsy, 'm right here." tongue ghosting and teasing at your cunt again, "pretty thing, isn't she?"
rrrrrrip!
the way gojo's been pawing at you, you should have guessed that he was forgetting that the prison realm did not have an unlimited supply of undergarments, and that damp and muffled screech all but confirms it. he's torn your panties off, and you can't see where he's got them now.
but you can guess. for you can hear laboured breathing, and whiny praises falling from gojo's lips, and the sound of a buckle being undone. gojo's leaning back up to kiss you now, to nip and suckle at your lower lip while his hand tugs continuously at something. you can't see it, but you can feel the heavy, fat tip prod at your thighs. the sound of damp fabric being slapped against skin, plap over and over again.
"hahh, i don't think ya' know jus' how much i've wanted this, pretty," gojo breathes into your mouth, the other hand coming up to curl at the nape of your neck, loving even, "can ya' spread 'em a bit wider for me? that's it, just let me through."
he's now slotted between your thighs, large palms spreading you open as you can feel your panties still looped and dangling around his wrist, like the most lewd, keepsake cuff.
"satoru, wan' you to just — oh! oh, fuck!"
gojo's already dived right in, as though you were his last meal, swiping a tongue in quick stripes over your drooling cunt. starting near your glistening entrance, slowly climbing his way to the top where he presses gentle nips at your clit.
every single legible thought in your mind turns to a glorious mush, a senseless babble quickly falling from your lips as your hands shoot out, desperate for something to hold onto. finding the nape of gojo's neck, and curling your fingers into his pale hair as he licks at your soaked heat.
thick fingers are bruising at your hips, hooked and deeply pressed into your flesh, all the while gojo's practically making out with your cunt, primal and nasty. it's messy, absurdly so, and you can feel hot thwacks! of slick flying out against your thighs. you can only imagine how it's painting gojo's face, rendering him pussydrunk and so glossy and pretty.
"sweetheart, you're so sweet, ya' know that, right? so fuckin' sweet, heh, i mean, you don't even know how i've been dreaming of this, but now that you're here," gojo thumbs at your cunt, pushing slick-tacked folds apart to view his handiwork, "all spread so pretty for me, who woulda' thought?"
"m-more, please," you're practically mewling, jolting at the sensation of each sticky kiss that gojo plants on you, "more, fuck."
you can hear the crude smile in gojo's tone as he spits a thick glob onto your cunt, "what's the magic word, pretty?"
you don't even care to think, to pull a coherent sentence or plea from your mouth as he picks up the pace, "i d-don't know, satoru! but, god, fuck, fuck, please 'toru, i jus' —"
his grip on your hips tightens, "what?" a cutting, sharp sound as though he's been struck dumb, "what'd ya' just say, sweetheart?"
you don't even know how to form syllables now, such is the effect of gojo munching at your slick heat, "wanted more? huh, 'toru?" grinding your cunt against his face, rocking your hips sharply so you can feel the beakish point of his nose brush against your clit.
"toru, ya' called me," and you can hear the desperation and want painting gojo's words, drawing his voice out into a whine, "never thought hearing that from your lips would fuck w'me so much."
safe to say that gojo satoru would have a hard time letting go of you ever again. wind, hail, fire or prison realm — the strongest was going to have his way with you. his pretty girl, all spread pretty and dewy for him to feast on.
gojo's fingers are long, splitting you open as he begins to slide the digits right up into you. scissoring you open at a bullying pace, so you can only cry and squirm from where you are, "faster, f-fuck, your mouth too, 'toru!"
"whatever ya' want from me, 'm all yours to give," gojo murmurs, pressing a soft bite into the fat of your thighs, pushing his tongue into your entrance too, teasing at the outer edges of your gummy walls, "s'so tight, and 'm only using m'hands and this mouth," the tip of the muscle being sucked in by your pretty, sopping folds.
two lengthy fingers still pushing through your walls, exploring every crevice and sticky orifice that he can find, before rough pads brush past a spot that makes you scream, "oouh, m'girl's sensitive there?"
"s-satoru," you try to take in heavy swathes of air into your lungs, feeling much of the world fall away as gojo's nose grinds at your clit, each brush making you jerk your hips up and up, till you're seeing stars.
and oh, you're definitely seeing the whole damn night sky like this. you don't know what it is that he's doing, that sharp buzz faintly running in your ears, that faint crackle of energy that makes you jolt, but you can guess, "hah, 's not fair, using j-jujutsu, 'm gonna cum, m'really gonna cum!"
"now," it's a command, and you can hear it in gojo's ruined tone, that he needs to see you fall apart like this, needs to taste your release on his tongue and you writhe, as tears prick at your lashes underneath the blindfold, your orgasm washing over you in pulsing waves that leave you limp and boneless.
gojo's hands are trailing up again, leaning upwards to gently pull the blindfold from your eyes, and oh, what a sight! the white-haired man looks breathless, as though the air has been stolen away from him. eyes glowing with running cursed energy, a bright light in the dark that has your thighs clenching at how feral he looks. glossy lips dripping syrup over his chin, and how utterly pleased he looks.
"thereee you are," gojo murmurs, pressing his lips hotly to your own, "can ya' taste how sweet y'are?" each sticky kiss leaving you dizzy, but not as giddy as you feel when your eyes drop lower.
your panties still wrapped around his wrist, uniform sleeve pushed up so you can see where your slick has dampened the pale dusting of hair on his arm. and there, well, eyes on the prize as they say.
he's bigger than anyone else that you've ever seen. it seems fitting that gojo satoru's cock is just as girthy, and beefy as he is. curling upwards in a thick shaft that's kissing wet smears of fluid over his jacket, staining it.
"that's not gonna' fit," the only logical thing you can say right now, eyeing the pink, swollen head of his cock and how it glows.
the sorcerer's tilting his head, "we can make it fit," hand reaching out to run gentle strokes across your knuckle, "we got allll the time in the world to make it fit, don't we? and, heh, i don't think our audience really minds, do ya'?"
you scowl at the reminder of the clattering skulls still chittering away, mindlessly thrumming in the walls of this stupid cube. but you're never one to complain when faced with a site such as this, gojo wrapping long fingers against his cock to glide the head through your syrupy folds. the wide, throbbing head snagging at the sopping walls of your entrance. all while you pull him in closer, nails already beginning to tear lightly at his back.
"kiss m-me, 'toru."
gojo looks up from where he seems mesmerised, taken by the sight of your glossy folds seem to welcome his cock's touch, "what was that, sweetheart?"
"kiss me," you gasp, feeling him press further against you, the tip running circles right over your clit, "when ya' put it in, please."
despite the fact that he was previously nose-deep in your cunt, not five minutes ago, and the fact that he's been pawing your clothes off in a cursed prison realm with no shame, now it seems like you've truly stumped the man. rendered him speechless and flushed, as he ducks his head into the crook of your neck.
"awh," gojo murmurs, "pretty girl wants me kissin' her, fuck, ya' don't know what you're asking. or how much y'ruin me," he's taking your mouth into a heart stopping kiss, searing before he breaks away to press light pecks to the corner of your mouth, "hold on, biiig stretch for m'now, but i've got ya', just — ohhh."
gojo feels his own thoughts dissipate as he's pushing into your cunt. every previous subconscious worry of what on earth he had gotten himself (and you, when that fuck-ass clone showed up on the train platform) falling away as he's left with only you. just you, and this maddening cunt that he's ready to call home. forever.
"s-s-so tight," the strongest stutters, "fuck" his hands already pulling at your thighs to spread them wider, so he can bully more hot inches in, just so he can hear the smack! of skin against skin.
you're squealing, digging sharp tips of your nails into faint lines that are definitely gonna' paint his back, "eeh, it's b-big, 'toru." it feels like he's truly split you open, and well, fuck, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't pleased at how you finally got the strongest sorcerer spitting cuntstruck praises into your mouth.
you whimper, the sound falling softly from you as he bottoms out, and chuckles, swiping a slick thumb over your chin, "see? we really did it together, heh," like he's awarding you some participation in a teamwork exercise, "i'm all up in ya' and her," he's patting at your abdomen, right where you know there's a soft divot, a bulge that curls upwards.
the thick, hot tip of his cock pressing messy kisses to your inner walls, throbbing and pulsing. each vein bulging within you, "y'gonna cum in me, right, 'toru? gonna' finish right in —"
gojo stares at you, bewildered for a split second, like you've truly shocked him. blue eyes wide and expressionless for a second, before something far more pained crosses his face, tongue poking out of red, kiss-bitten lips.
"satoru?"
the strongest sorcerer snaps, pushing himself upwards, and dragging you up along side him, rough palms coming up to tug at your thighs, your calves. pulling them over his shoulders, a reverent kiss pressed to your ankle as gojo snarls, "ya' got no idea, do ya'? talkin' out of your slutty cunt, not even knowin' what you're doin' to me? huh?
gojo's now pressing down into you, with such force that it makes your thighs ache and smart, but you can't even bring yourself to care. practically folded in half neatly in a brutal mating press as his cock rummages inside you at a snappish, crazed pace. as though he's desperate to find where he can push into you the most, to have the leaky head kiss at the entrance of your womb.
and oh, gojo's enjoying the view. thinking that he's content with being faced with the bounce, and jolt of your chest against his, the way that your lips part and flutter around each muffled whine and cry of his name. the hazy glimmer that falls over your cockdrunk expression, like he's the only one for you. his own thighs ripple and bulge with each snap, cock pulsing into the depths of your core. kissing your cervix over and over in pleasurable stings.
"sweetheart, fuck," gojo's gasping, tugging at your lips. you don't miss crystalline droplets pooling on the edges of long, white lashes. the shuddering breaths that he takes into his lungs as you've practically snatched his mind and rationality away with the tight heat of your cunt, "n-never felt like this before. ya' drivin' me mad. fuck, fuck, oh, this pussy was jus' made for me, hah."
in the dim glow of this accursed place, the sheen of his eyes seems all the more intense. storm clouds gathering and parting all at once, striking electric sparks that leave you breathless. he's moving at a pace so feral that you can feel tight, heavy balls smack against your ass. desperate to empty themselves into you, just as you had begged.
"gonna' cum, pretty," gojo whines into your panting mouth, eyes fluttering shut as a tear or two streaks away from his waterline, "jus' snatching me so fuckin' tight."
you hammer your hips up to meet his, to feel that delicious tack of his sticky groin against yours, every kiss of pre-cum glistening in your cunt, "don't miss."
"when have i ever m — ohhh, fuck. fuck, 'm -"
yeah. you don't let him finish. clenching around him tight enough just to remind him who's got who wrapped around their finger. sending gojo hurtling towards a heart shattering climax, pumping every divot of your drooling pussy with shades of white and cream. endless streams of milky, translucent seed making its home deep within you. all while you cry out, harshly digging into his back and pulling the strands of his silver-streaked undercut.
"takin' it all, 'm pumping you s'full, sweetheart," gojo whines, mewling as he slaps a hand between you two, roughly pawing at your thigh to push your leg higher up with one hand, giving him enough space to rub tight, tremouring circles over your clit. slapping and sloshing the mess around even more as your mouth falls open.
he's still shooting into you, and you don't have to look down to predict the sticky, glossy mess that must be painted over your cunt now. right where gojo's hand must be dripping in your release, making you sink your teeth into the side of his neck. stars streaking across your vision as all goes black momentarily, but he doesn't let up on your poor, throbbing clit.
"hah, 'm so full, satoru," you groan out, pressing a limp hand to the bulge right over your groin, right where gojo's eyes are trained, his cock still sputtering out the desperate release of his cum into you, and the white-haired man moans. loud, like you've truly undone him.
the overstimulated sting is giving way to another shattering, sharp climax that washes over you once more, as quickly as it came, leaving your heart thumping and your lungs weak, locking your ankles once more around gojo's neck, wresting on his shoulders.
you limply paw at his jacket, tugging at the stiff collar as gojo sighs, content like a cat that's finally been able to bask in the sun, "feelin' more alert now, huh? got any fresh ideas on how to break this thing?"
gojo gives you a lazy, droopy look. eyes half-lidded as he barks a faint, incredulous laugh, "fucked any smart thoughts right outta' me, sweetheart. besides," and now he's flipping the two of you around again, so you're perched once more in his lap.
smacking and squelching in the pooling mess of your shared release, as gojo grunts, lifting the jacket from his torso. revealing an expanse of delicious washboard abs, and mouth-watering, flushed pectorals, "i don't think we're runnin' outta' time here, may as well make the most of it."
7K notes · View notes
insanechayne · 10 months ago
Text
~ ~ ~
#I love my bestie and trust that he’s telling me the truth about a family emergency being the reason he’s cancelling our concert plans#but he flakes on me every single time we make plans together to do anything so it’s hard to be as understanding when there’s a pattern here#and after all the shit he’s told me his brother has done to him why are you still helping him?? I can’t relate to this whole idea of do#anything for family even if your family is trash and would never do the same for you#probably because I have family who is trash and would never do anything for me and I cut them off real quick when I was able#I do not believe in letting people stick around who do nothing but use you and hurt you#so I want to be sympathetic and understanding but couldn’t be me and can’t relate so I’m struggling#plus the constant flaking on me makes me less compassionate as well#I bought these concert tickets months in advance and he was supposed to pay for the hotel room for us to stay out after the show#and yeah he’ll pay me back which is nice but doesn’t really change the fact that I’m currently out that money and everything else#and if my partner or stepdad can’t come with me last minute like this then I’ll have to just sell the tickets back to Ticketmaster#because I really don’t want to go by myself since it’s my first concert and I’d feel awkward and uncomfortable being alone there#was already having trouble sleeping and now I got this fucking nonsense to deal with#guess it’s my own fault for making plans with someone I know never keeps them#personal
0 notes