#they still do even four years later
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do you think jenna marbles knows how appreciated and irreplaceable her presence on youtube was? does she know that she mastered the craft of making a video feel like hanging out with a treasured friend? do you think she knows that she was one of the last youtubers to feel genuine in her craft, making videos for the fun of it rather than making everything polished, elaborate, and distanced? does she know that even four years later we still miss her? does she know that an era of the internet ended when she left? i hope she knows we saw her. i hope she's having a great time.
#i have yet to find someone who can make me feel how her videos made me feel#its not even anything particularly intense#its just a feeling of comfort#her videos felt like company#they still do even four years later#and this isnt me saying i dont get why she left or that i want her to come back#(in a very self serving way i do miss her)#(but for the most part i just hope she's having fun)#everything else feels so....capitalist in a way thats hard to pinpoint#and its not like i have no youtubers i like i have many many many#but none of them really fill the spot that she left#its all a little too clean#a little tooooo professional#that one day film/edit/upload just had such a vibe#her videos feel like old home tapes#sigh i miss her#jenna marbles#oh shush#youtube#youtubers
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genuinely why is there so much misinformation about the guardians of childhood book series?
#Lemme be a toxic fan for a moment bc im so tired and stressed and i need to yell my silly fandom frustrations out to the void#The people saying Jack is fourteen in them. No.#He can manipulate his age from 11 to 18 and is dating a 25 yr old#people still insist that the books are connected to the movie despite there being no possibility for that since 2018#And like they totally guess what happens in the books#I saw someone try to say that dreamworks were being 'weird' and aged Jack up to ship him with tooth but in the books he was a child#three things: He's not fourteen (see above for age. He's essentially an adult and is treated as such) and is dating an adult#And he didn't make an official appearance in the books until 2018. Six years AFTER the movies release#and thirdly dreamworks aged him DOWN????#Joyce's og idea was an adult with a wife + kids ???#Like what are you talking about#never mind the people insisting that JACK IS 12???? NO??? Where did you get ur information bc wtf???#the movie started production (in 2008) before any of the books even existed (first book was published in 2011)#We have no idea how much of the books they had! The most they had were Joyce's ideas that were subject to change (and boy did they change)#the walking eggs in the movie didn't come from the book (even tho they're in there) they came from Joyce's doodling on notes!#The third book published alongside the movie tie-in books and then days later the finished film premiered at the Mill Valley Film Festival#by the time the second book rolled around (2012) the movie was probably finished and was just getting distributed by paramount and#was possibly even finished in 2011! Four years of production of the movie and then the first book got released#I cannot express enough how much the books are not the source material for the movie. If anything is it's the 2005 short film Joyce made#God it's so infuriating to see people discussing the books like they're the Bible without having read it. I get so irrationally upset#And why are we talking about the books like they have any relevance to the movie after 2018? that book completely severed all ties#Like I get it if people want to connect them but you'd have to ignore the entire last book to do that (which yeah most do)#but there's so many assumptions about the books and it makes it clear who got their into from fan rumors and who actually read them#if you are basing ur understanding of a book you've never read based on fanfic maybe you just shouldn’t say anything about the book#rotg#rise of the guardians#guardians of childhood#goc
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Watch out I'm getting emotional about the steven universe fandom mutuals again
#ax speaks#uyesueueruggrghu#even if we've never really talked they all mean so much to me#i felt so welcome in that community despite being so small#and even now#four years later#i cry every time#i love all of you#i really do#you're the family i needed then and still care about so much now
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yknow it is crazy to think about how much i have been able to improve my quality of life by selling art as a supplementary form of income. like obviously it's a second job and it's taxing but it's also so rewarding to know how much people enjoy my work and how much good it is doing me to like, feel like i can buy snacks at the store. to be able to get takeout every once in a while. like obviously those are extremely minor changes or things most people take for granted but to me it's huge. having berries in the house when they're out of season and more expensive. buying things for CONVENIENCE??! it feels so crazy to me to have such a sense of luxury which i know says more about the bleak feeling of poverty that's followed me around my entire adult life than anything else but i feel so much gratitude that i am afforded these small luxuries at least in part because of people that like my art. not to mention how nice is is to make things consistently again when, prior to 2020, i hadn't made art regularly in almost a decade. anyway. it's cool!
#of course there are extenuating circumstances! i finished my student loans in 2020 with help from family#i moved to a cheaper place in 2020. i get paid more now than i did then; even though i'm only working four days a week#obviously i am not RICH; i cannot afford to live by myself. housing here is crazy. but i can buy MEAT at the STORE#not only do i have SNACKS in the house i also have MULTIPLE KINDS! do you know how crazy that is.#and now of course a lot of it is combatting my wicked sense of guilt for buying anything i dont 'need'. like snacks.#but obviously i still buy them i just make myself feel bad about it for a while first. lmao#i mean i haven't done my taxes for 2023 yet who knows maybe i'll be hit with some big fees and i'll take this all back#but idk you gotta be grateful. anyway i think i'm gonna order pizza later#chatpost#i used patreon money to buy a new desk chair a couple years ago. a NEW one!! not one from the street!
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consider this my spiritual successor to the other post i did like this with “i.. becamed a vampire”
#talking tag#spider-man#spider-man 2099#spiderman 2099#peter parker#miguel o'hara#lyla#my edits#art is from asm (2018) 32 and uhhh. 35 i think for the top panels#four year later i am still >:( that the 2019/2099 Opened with. cannot stress this enough.#Spider-Man 2099 Strapped To A Table in a textbook example of tvtropes’ ''They Would Cut You Up''.#and then NOTHING HAPPENS!!!!#nothing HAPPENS nothing interesting or deeper’n a puddle ever Happens nick spencer can Set Up but he cant deliver a story if he tried#he knows that he wants an event but not what ABOUT or WHY or what STORY to TELL with it or even WHO it’s FOR—#but hey! at least now HE can show everybody that HIS cool 2099 rebopt is the coolest one ever unlike all those other reboots that sucked#as Always Inevitably Happens the 2019/2099 event was a flop because overall its impact was a whole heaping load of Nothing made for No One#if you want to introduce new readers to 2099 then make the universe more accessible. put out some damn trade editions of the obscure books#if you want to appeal to the existing fans of the imprint/character(s) (freaks like me ❤️) JUST DO the BARE MINIMUM QUIT REBOOTING 2099 FUCK
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so. uhh. any rgg meetups at animenext this weekend or 🥴
#snap chats#GOOD MORNING IM CRYING#years ago i got tickets for animenext but due to covid the event was cancelled and i couldnt go#WELL I JUST. I JUST GOT LET KNOWN I HAVE TICKETS? FOR THREE DAYS AND ITS LEGIT?#LIKE I CHECKED EVERY WAY POSSIBLE AND YEAH NO. THESE ARE VALID TICKETS. WHATLKVJLEKJ#go to an event four damn years later OK..... idk if ill stay all three days since i dont have a hotel obvi but i could sleep in my car ig#i done did it before its fine 🥴#anyway idk who to cosplay or if i even will cosplay#on the one hand i could do y2 daigo again like i did for animenyc#doing masato however would mean i wouldnt have to do as much makeup...... he also does not have any cheekbones like me 😔#unlike daigo's gorjus face#my mine cosplay aint supposed to be ready til july so.... thats out of the window LMAO#eh. prob would be best to just do daigo actually now that im thinkin of it esp when no one even remembers masato ☠️#idk thats something for me to figure out im still just laughing at this whole thing like jvlkvlkj
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ok actually yeah. i really need to do dishes and go to bed and not stay up late mentalillnessposting a little too viscerally on tumblr the night before i facilitate a workshop in front of the literal president of the university and the vp of my division (LOL about that btw. actively shitting my pants.) but oh my GOD. so saying goodbye to lia was actually fine in the moment. neither of us cried and we talked about all the ways we’ll still be in each others lives and reasons we’ll have to interact in the near future. and she gave me an extremely heartfelt thoughtful gift and we left on a very hopeful note and i felt better and content bc there’s still the rest-of-life and we’ll see each other there. but like an hour before that as i mentioned i was HYSTERICALLY sobbing. in full view of people i know AND people i don’t. and i just sat there and sobbed while everything carried on around me. everything carried on around me!!! and i feel like im about to sob again thinking about it.
#purrs#delete later#idk. i typed a bunch here and then deleted it and now idk what to say. i just feel so lonely. i have had fucked up relationships with every#single older adult in my life and never had someone who could a) stay in my life b) be consistently present in my life c) meet my emotional#needs d) actually See me and accept me for who i am. Like not one person who can be all four of those things. and i have to be all four of t#those things for myself now because im 24 and i missed my chance. but how fucking shitty and painful is that? especially after a year like t#this. the way it’s literally ending the SAME way last year did. huge scary promotion (which i haven’t even talked about on here or to anyone#but lia today actually. but it might be huger and scarier than i thought. which is good but also HUGE -‘d scary. and not a bad thing of bc o#course but it’s so fucking… perilous? like it makes me feel profoundly imperiled because i have extremely good reason to feel that way. and#i have to endure the mortifying ordeal of applying for my own job AGAIN after the first time was so horrible. lol) and also losing a beloved#mentor figure who understood me in a way no one else did which mattered immensely even if they couldn’t do the whole presence thing or#whatever. and now i only have one older adult in my life left (aside from my therapist who doesn’t really count bc i only see her once a#week and we barely know each other still) who is like. here and helping me and i KNOW i am so sick in the head i KNOW and i should not be#writing it but every single day i am fucking terrified that i am being or will be separated from him emotionally or physically jsut like all#the others so. LOL!!!!! i am normal and well adjusted. but it’s like so fucking painful because im grasping at straws but again the reality#is im 24 and the only people on this earth who it is fair for me to expect all 4 from and who should’ve provided it to me are my parents.#and i missed my chance with them forever and now i have to do it myself. and that’s ok sometimes and i can handle it… except in the moments#where im sobbing hysterically and everything carries on. when i am in my darkest moments i want to run to an older adult and have them#comfort me but i truly cannot do that with any of the ones i still have left / regularly interact with for so many reasons. and it’s so#painful it makes me sick sometimes. and now i have to be the romy and the lia i wish to see in this world. but how can i do that when i#haven’t finished grieving over them leaving which feels like leaving ME — NOW — in this moment when i have never needed more support of that#kind more. how can isummon it within myself. im not ready yet. i need a long hug and a hand to hold that won’t (have to) let go. when im#crying i need someone to take me somewhere and comfort me and calm me down. and im 24 so i can’t ask for it. but oh my god i need it. and i#missed my chance. and lia left today and she only ever did that for me metaphorically but… tonight i feel more alone than ever.#and it’s like i don’t even have the emotional intelligence or whatever to ASK for that. bc im playing by ear and i don’t know how to read#the music of it. im self taught. that fucking sucks. that SUCKSSS. also that’s too strong a way to put it liek obviously my friends who are#closer to my age are INTEGRAL to me being able to function and i learn from them and cherish their support. but just like i can’t be a mom#to me my friends can’t either. so it’s like what the fuck do i do. get steamrolled by relentless grief and rage every day i guess.#also side note. everything carried on when i was in brighton too. i came home early ofc but it’s like nothing changed in my absence. and#that has fucked me up SUPREMELY. i think that might be a root of it. like hm… it seems my presence doesn’t have impacts. but idk
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My life will never be the same again hbu
#madre solo hay dos#ana servín#mariana herrera#shitty screencap posts (TM)#WHAT IN THE EARTH WIND AND FIRE is going on on this show??????#hand to my heart I NEVER in a million years would have imagined that 1) these two would end up getting to know each other in a biblical way#but also more importantly 2) that it would happen where there are still six episodes left???? truly a game-changer lmao#I don't even know what to do with this like I wanted this for so long and the show just like... gave it to me???#I'm about to die aren't I that's the only plausible explanation#real talk though I'm kinda relieved that it happened when they were both utterly hammered from that santa perpetua tequila (hee)#because during my week of speculation of what 'an intimate encounter' could mean#I kept going back to the fact that per the teasers and trailer we know mariana eventually moves in with ferrán#so I was kinda worried that ana would get attached and get her heart broken while mariana goes to live her best life with her boyfriend#but this way it's clear they're BOTH gonna explain it away as like 'we were super drunk it didn't really mean anything right?'#and no one's really gonna get hurt (from THIS particular turn of events I mean idk about later when mariana gets with ferrán)#so once again the show manages to do things in the LEAST annoyingly painful way possible four for you show you go show#lastly from the moment paulina's song was attached to the show I kinda hoped it would be used in a meaningful ana/mariana moment#perhaps the moment they got together for real (if that's where the show wants to take things)#but then in the past week I thought that maybe it would play over whatever the 'intimate encounter' in this episode ended up being#AND I WAS RIGHT love that for me#I also loved that from the moment we knew they went to shoot something outside of mexico city with just ana and mariana#I kinda hoped it would lead to a romantic development between them of some kind and man did I ever get more than I bargained for#started from the bottom and now we're here!!!!!!
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Well.
Of course I'm missing her today
#the void screams#FUCK#i just had spotify playing a random radio and a song came on that i listened to with her#it was only like. twice. in the car. but we did listen to it together.#i didn't even recognize the song at first#and then the fucking thing not only reminded me of her but of course the song that does so is 'miss me more'#because yeah i do still miss me. i still miss the me i was before her and the one before her and the one before her.#i miss the me i never really got to know and i still don't know who i am or if i'll be able to find her again.#i miss the me that was unapologetically happy.#and now i'm crying alone in my room because i was reminded of her again and it hurts and why does it STILL HURT#is it dumb that i still have to avoid her music? i don't--i don't even know what i#i hate that she's still hurting me four years later. i hate that i don't know if she even knew she was doing it#i hate that i'm not mad at her. i hate that i want to be mad. what the fuck is wrong with me.
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Redraw of my very self indulgent baby Self Insert for FNaF Security breach just because how I draw Sun in the original reference makes me want to scream
#Emile's arts#It's still not GOOD his rays make me mad#But I don't want to mess with it and at least he has a functional color pallet now#My version of Security Breach is wonky but whatever this game's story is trash and patchy I am making it my own#I'm basically just a daycare kid who's parents one day didn't show up to pickup#Usually the Daycare Attendent would report this to Security but at this point Moon had been infected#So Sun anxious of Moon's erratic behavior decided nah this kid's just gonna stay with me#About a week later Moon drops a kid into the ball pit from super high up on his wire and gets the daycare shut down#The kid lived btw broke his leg really bad but he survived#The daycare's only scheduled to be shutdown a week or so but no one tells Sun that so he starts having a breakdown#My S/I is the only thing holding him together really and even THAT'S not really great#Sun is programed to 'love kids' and that might be a bit faulty of a program#(Sun is a Romantic F/O to this S/I)#He's falling apart and putting all his emotional support on a four year old and it's not going great#and then say four year old almost DIES RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM#Yeah when the lights go out on the last generator Moon grabs me and goes real high up like he did with that other kid#I do still like Moon he's scary yes but he matters to Mr. Sun and I want him to be better#And I tell him this#And then he fucking throws me#Lights come back on Sun switches front and dives from the wire to catch me#Sun gets real busted up from the fall bent rays broken arm and ankles I break my glasses and fracture my arm#It's a bad time#idk what happens next a lot of trauma recovery I hope#And Moon eventually gets cured and I slowly get use to him again#Slowly...#That's about it anyway most the S/I thought are pre-game stuff anyway just. Being a daycare kid in love with Sun Sun in love with me#Etc etc#Sorry if you read my tags if that was like. Weird. It's where I am mentally with Sun it be like that#Cradle Ship
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*Watching Wakanda Forever with my boyfriend and his family* Me: Look, Tenoch did his own dub for the spanish release. Boyfriend: Well, that second check is always welcome. Me: Also the Shaman's actor was the consultant for Mayan language. Boyfriend:... Boyfriend: If you ask me, this was the best mexican representation ever, between Tenoch's "I have never drown" to get the role and people taking a second role on the production to get a second check.
#(like yeah I have done that too even if I don't know how to do the work I just watch and learn)#Wakanda Forever#Marvel#MCU#(and yeah also that's how I became a teacher I said ‟yes I know how to do this‟ and here I am four years later still working as a teacher‟)
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talking about impenetrable accents/dialect just reminded me. when I was in Milan a couple of years back I was staying in this little rathole hotel and I had the biggest fucking migraine, so I was like non c'è problema I'll just go buy painkillers. of course every pharmacy on the map in a three block radius was closed, so my stupid ass just starts wandering around trying to figure out on the fly if you can get OTC from supermarkets in italy.
I walk into this little everything store (to my foreign eyes the kind of place that back home could sell you a bunch of carrots, a 6-pack of beer, pantyhose, bleach and a screwdriver set) and I see some household basics in the back but not what I need. with the confidence of a person who is only in the city for 3 days because he got bored and packed a bag and booked the cheapest flight available the week before (<= MENTAL ILLNESS), I was like no worries I know some italian, I can just ask.
I grab a bottle of water, walk up to the counter, and I'm like Ciao, hai il paracetamolo? And the guy is like che, and I'm like paracetamolo. Per la mia testa. And he's like che?
This is where I would have said 'aspirina' except I can't take aspirin for medical reasons, or 'antidolorifico' except I don't know that word and I've got no phone data for google translate and also I'm stupid. So in my fucked up leith-glasgow-italian accent I'm like paaa-ra-cetta-mollll-ooo. He's like ohhh bene, bene, and he calls another guy out of the back and asks him to go get something. Other guy then walks out of the store into the street, and before I can be like hey, che la fuck, he comes back and hands me a huge bundle of herbs.
At this point I'm like okay this entire interaction has been a bust, but these guys have been very nice and patient and they're both smiling happily at me because they've been of service, so I'm like ahh perfetto, grazie, pay them a couple of euros and leave.
EVENTUALLY I find a pharmacy that's open, and my head is fucking killing me, and my phone still isn't connecting, and now I have this small shrubbery poking out of my coat pocket, so I don't even bother looking around the shelves. I just walk straight to the counter and I'm like uhh ciao, scusi. And hearing my nightmare of an accent the guy answers in english and I'm like thank christ, do you please have paracetamol. Not aspirin, I can't take aspirin. And he's like yeah yeah hold on, goes into the back, comes out with what I need.
Only when he comes out he gives me this look, and then he starts laughing. And then he pretends he's not laughing and rings me up and I pay, and as I'm leaving I can see him losing it. But I don't care, my head is going to explode, I'm going back to the rathole to close the blinds and fall comatose for four hours.
When I get back to my hotel room I take off my coat and remember the huge bouquet of herbs in my pocket. They smell amazing, and I'm like I'm pretty sure this is parsley in which case I can just get some tomatoes and mozzarella later and make it work. but since I have no idea what that interaction was, I want to make sure. I bring out my phone to get a visual reference of what parsley leaves look like, and because I was using it for google translate earlier I put 'parsley' in the wrong box like a dope and translate it to italian.
prezzemolo
I wish I could have been the pharmacist in the moment he looked at my tired pissed off anglophone ass, heard me say 'paracetamol' in my fucked up accent, and turned around saw what was in my pocket. I'd have lost my shit too.
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this goes after the tags below i didn’t wanna make a new post
they’re straight leg, not quite skinny but almost and very flattering wink emoji. no cap, corroborated by my darling ex-nothing, who also kept asking me where i got them except i think the brand is vintage or went bankrupt or something cuz i can only seem to find their stuff secondhand online and their only website is this old wix catalogue-type thing with no way to purchase products. he would look so good in these though holy shit. not that his jeans aren’t already extremely flattering. hate to see u go bb love to watch u leave, so much. how can you be so skinny and have such a nice ass, and then u decide to wear ur stupid size 28 jeans and walk around like that like it’s no big deal. i don’t understand. ur a horrid little homunculus especially designed to torment me.
i’m sleepy. and my legs still really hurt. i wanted to read some more before bed today but i’m probably just going to call it a night soon.
i forgot why i wanted to post this journal entry in the first place. just feels good to reflect and bitch ig. i love electronic music. i swear i’m not drunk rn, just really tired. too broke to be drinking
#having dinner rn#it’s a fish and some other stuff#howd this fish get to my plate#listening to music with my noise cancelling headphones#feeling grateful for this fish and music#pretty good day today#still listening to ‘yours ever’ by cocktail#what is it about music in a car that makes it sound so good#don’t hand me the aux i’m on day 400-something of being down more bad than i’ve ever been in my sorry fucking life 🤣🤣🤣#8:00pm god the sunset was gorgeous again today#these lyrics be real asf#love u with my entire heartttt take a knife to my it all four chambers only beat for uuuuu#wish y’all could understand thai my translation is rather inelegant#guitar solo in this song is soooooo good too wish it was longer#feeling optimistic about life rn#bitches will complete one difficult task successfully comma get positive reinforcement and be like maybe there is hope#i’m upstairs now#why do my legs and back hurt so much damn#thinking back prolly my posture. and sitting weird in chairs.#this bed is so nice.#my stuffed animals are so nice.#i miss my cat i wanna touch that beast#later tonight i’ll call him. he’ll be like mrraaaa and come running up the stairs like we haven’t seen each other in years#if i let him into my room too early he only wants to play his peekaboo game under the piano and i can’t get anything done#jesus my legs hurt#could it be my jeans cut off circulation#they’re not even that tight#shout-out to these jeans too#bought them secondhand from some guy in quebec off depop (bro put a candy bar in the parcel i’ll remember u forever angel)#best jeans i’ve ever owned hands down
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she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.
my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.
my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.
my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.
at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.
my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.
i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.
two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.
it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.
#writeblr#wlw#i often think about like.....#being happy in a gay relationship is sometimes so odd#bc u can forget how stupid ppl are.#bc ur so USED to being gay. and u forget other people GENUINELY ARE homophobic#so it's like. girl pardon?????#but also there are moments where it's like. ohhh the kids are alright#like watching someone razz someone else.... so fucking wholesome#“lemme get this bitche's pronouns before i make gentle fun of them” .... i would have KILLED for that.#THAT is how u know ur accepted#not just tolerated#..... when ppl are like. sure ur nonbinary congrats but WHAT is this fucking sunscreen application#ps idk if "razz'' is a real word but someone asked what it means -#i've always heard it as being a term for 'gentle & friendly teasing'' which like#i personally notice more from my guy friends but is like - when a person isn't#LIKE ACTUALLY teasing u (it's nothing personal/mean) they're just laughing w/you about something#my friends often put on a little voice and call me an anemic little bitch#like 'ooooo the anemic little bitch is cold??? does she need a mouse blanket#bc she's SOOOO SMALL AND ANEMIC???''#and it doesn't hurt my feelings (it makes me laugh very hard) bc 1. i actually called MYSELF that first#and 2. i'm not sensitive about it!!!#a proper razz is when you are ALSO in on the joke - i ALSO think it's funny#for some people i personally find that when they razz u it's when they love u -#they've noticed something genuine about u and love u enough that u know they're not being mean#this is cultural and personality based of course but i'm hispanic#if someone isn't making fun of me it means they hate me . obviously.
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The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.
Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)
A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.
“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”
“Duh, I know everything.”
“Nuh uh, Toru.”
“Yuh uh!”
The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school.
Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.
A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.
You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.
Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-
Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:
Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt.
Never mess with you. Anyone but you.
Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.
Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.
And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.
Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second.
Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”
“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”
You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”
“...you would not.”
“Would to.”
“Would not.”
“Would to.”
“Would- Sugu–!”
And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”
He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.
With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”
Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”
You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team.
And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile.
Everything.
Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else.
“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.
Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”
Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all.
If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.
Just a friend comforting a friend, right?
So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.
Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.
That night ended with a second kiss.
You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you.
Everything.
But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.
“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”
And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio.
He learns another two things that night:
Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you.
He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.
It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.
Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.
According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.
“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”
God, what a way to start the year.
Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”
And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries.
“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”
“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”
“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”
And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments.
But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”
You knew.
You’d kissed him back.
“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”
You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister.
The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.
But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”
“Where?”
At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good.
“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up.
Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”
Close - too close. So dangerously close.
He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”
“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by.
And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling.
“I’m a dead man, Shoko.”
There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.
Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”
Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.
Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine.
And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics.
His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.
Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked.
Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss.
He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door.
“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”
You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that.
Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”
“I’m serious, Satoru.”
And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for.
Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”
As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.
“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”
Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth.
So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours.
Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes.
“Toru, I have a date.”
The fourth kiss.
Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”
And the last.
He fucked up.
He really, really fucked up.
That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship.
He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious.
What did he have that Satoru didn’t?
The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his.
You, that loser had you.
“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”
“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-
“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”
And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-
SLAM!
Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.”
And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom.
“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye.
Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”
Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”
“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”
And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”
Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two.
Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn.
“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”
Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”
“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”
And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy.
Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.
His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”
Oh.
Shit.
“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”
And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”
“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”
“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”
“...”
Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank.
Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.
But you don’t.
Fuck.
And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.”
He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now.
“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?”
And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.”
“Oh.”
Then the movie is unpaused.
---
The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today.
The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.
Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway.
The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.
“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-
Ding!
Ah, there.
You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…
Satoru.
Speaking a mile a minute.
Satoru.
“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”
“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms.
What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life.
But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned.
Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.
It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.
Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.
“You loser.”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-
That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”
“Huh?”
You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.”
Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”
“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”
And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you.
Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt.
“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”
“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you.
“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.
“Toru!”
“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”
And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”
“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”
It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist.
And it’s sloppy.
Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.
“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”
It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”
The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.
“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”
A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.
And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?”
Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.
You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”
“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.
And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.
“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?”
“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”
So goading. So like you.
At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”
Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so.
“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”
And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-
“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”
Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots.
“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”
He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually.
But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit.
“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”
It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?
“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”
And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene.
“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?”
You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully.
“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out.
Like you were about to snap. Any second now.
But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…” Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”
You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt.
You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.
But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.
Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours.
“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”
And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”
It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection.
And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous.
“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.”
And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.”
He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”
Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.
At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.”
He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch.
“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”
And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”
“You have no idea.”
That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag.
Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.”
And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact.
“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”
“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.
Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-
“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”
And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps.
Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling.
“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-”
You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.
Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”
You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-”
He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll.
“That’s more like it.”
You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.
Deep. Ruthless.
“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”
You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”
But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.
“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”
“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”
You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt.
He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.”
Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”
“Still not convinced.”
But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”
“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”
“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”
You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.
Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.
And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white.
Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.
“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.
“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”
Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.
“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”
“Well, only one way to find out~”
“Oh shut up you-”
SLAM!
“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”
There were only two more lessons to be learned:
Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family.
Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.
A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?
Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.
I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.
Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.
There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.
And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.
And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.
I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.
Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.
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