#well one didnt even have a listing for it

[viiennie]

𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

Gojo Satoru x f!reader

chapter one

Tags and warnings: Zombie Apocalypse, mentions of gore (including blood and death), slight angst (?), spoilers to ‘Happiness’, eventual smut, female reader, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, lovey dovey sex in the midst of a literal lock down, masturbation, slow burn kinda?, fluff, romance, drugs, manipulation, exhibition, gojo is a pervertttttt, mdni — 18+, enemies to lovers word count: 4093

You never thought that at the ripe age of 29, you’d be taking walks for the sole purpose of hoping to find dropped money on the road. 

Hey, You can’t be blamed now, can you? Life is completely unpredictable, and you’re just glad you at least have an apartment to sleep in and a job that pays kinda enough. But what can you do when the bills are still high, and you still got a loan to settle? Your salary barely covers your living expenses, and you’ve got those damn loan sharks to be worrying about to add to the list. 

You always thought life would go well after graduating Criminology and getting a job in the military. To top it all off, you climbed the ranks and secured a respectable position without getting your hands dirty. Back then, you lived on the tallest floor of your dream apartment and bought all your dream cars to drive and wake the neighbors with.

It was the sweetest life had gotten. 

If only you didnt—

Riiiiiing!

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, the lights flashing as the name of your boss along with the picture of a very stern looking pig pops up on screen. You sigh, staring at it and pondering if you should answer the call. Your finger hovers over the green logo, a hesitation in the twitch of your digits as you debate missing the call and getting a handful of scolding when you go to work or answering and getting the same amount of scolding for something stupid you probably did while on the job. 

Another sigh leaves your lips when you decide to answer.

“There’s a job for you. I emailed all the details to you.”

He hangs up, not even bothering to hear a response from you. 

God, he’s always like that. Acting like some VIP, treating everyone else like they were below him. Countless times have you slapped the shit out of him in your dreams, and countless times have you hurled curses at him behind his back. Why’s there always a stick up his ass anyway?

You open the pdf file in your email, groaning at the 42 pages you have to read over. 

You work as a bodyguard now, the only place that didn’t blacklist you being an executive protection services company. Your job was to make sure your clients stayed out of harm's way, and so far, it’s been an absolute piece of cake compared to your previous occupation. You just had to stand behind them, look intimidating, and keep that up for the rest of the day.

As you skim over the file, you realize that this was the typical case of a nepo baby being rebellious whilst getting neglected by their parents. It was always, ‘I just can’t seem to control my teenager’ ‘He gets out of hand and always ends up almost killing himself.’ but they have never considered the fact that they’ve barely present in their child’s life?

Your duties consisted of absurd things, like cooking and making meals for the client, ensuring he does not leave the house, and even doing the laundry. A rise of annoyance boils in you as you continue to read down your responsibilities—things that nannies would do. If they wanted to hire one then they should’ve contacted someone else, not a body guarding company. Besides, why was this task assigned to you and not someone more qualified? You don’t ever remember putting ‘experienced nanny’ in your resume. 

No. You’re not doing this. You had your pride to—

Total Salary: 15,000,000 ₩ per day.

Well, it’s not like taking care of a child is that hard right? Besides, you do these so-called duties everyday for yourself! Not like adding an extra pair of clothes to the washing machine or cooking for two would be that hard. And! you get to sleep in a million dollar penthouse for three whole days, who wouldn’t miss that offer? And the living expenses are covered by your client too? Man, the pros are really outweighing the cons right now. 

You carefully read through the pages, scanning over the personal details of your new beloved client.

Full Name: Gojo Satoru

Birthday: 1994 December 7

Age: 28

Gender: Male

You blink

Once, twice, and then thrice.

Are you seeing this right?

The person you’re going to be babysitting is in fact not a little boy, but a grown ass man at the ripe age of 28? The person you’re going to be cooking and cleaning for is a grown adult capable of doing these daily chores with all of his four limbs intact? This couldn’t possibly be right, could it? You shake your head, scrolling back to look at the delicious view of the 15 million displayed on your phone screen. So what if it was a grown man? That means you wouldn’t have to be too worried about buying toddler food and all that, right? And him being an adult means he’s perfectly capable of doing his own chores, meaning, less work for you! 

Yeah, that’s right.

Things don’t have to be negative.

You inhale, gathering your thoughts and prayers, hoping this wasn’t about to be the worst decision of your life. No way it will be. It’s just for three short days anyway. And what if you actually end up getting along well with the guy?

Day One

Standing before these grand doors bring back memories you never liked. It reminded you of what you used to be—what kind of glory you used to hold. The keys in your palms feel cold, like ice that doesn’t melt despite the warmth your skin radiates. It feels illegal entering someone’s home without knocking— it's like you’re trespassing. But what can you do when those are your instructions?

The door to the penthouse swings open, the sound echoing through the spacious hall. The moment you step inside, the air feels different—cool, fresh, like everything in this space was designed with immaculate precision. You take a second to absorb the layout: sleek, minimalistic furniture, modern art pieces hanging from the walls, soft ambient lighting, and large glass windows that offer a wonderful view of the city. It’s everything you’d expect from a man who has money to burn but little else to do with it. It’s also everything you’ve ever wanted ever since falling into this pit of poverty.

You take another step in, and the door closes behind you with a soft click—a sound that tells you you’ve just sealed your fate. You take a deep breath in, to prepare your beating heart, and exhale, reminding yourself that you’re here now, and that this is really happening. 

“Hello?” you call out, your voice carrying a bit farther than you intended in the vast silence. You wait for a response, but there’s nothing but an eerie stillness. You feel awkward in this large space, your senses used to the small cozy apartment you lived in. You feel like a misplaced object here, like a piece of banana peel in the middle of a diamond sea. 

Then, suddenly, you hear a loud thud from what sounds like the far side of the apartment, followed by a burst of laughter. It’s carefree and youthful, almost too much so for someone who’s supposed to be the CEO’s son. Your eyes narrow as you start walking further into the apartment, your boots clicking sharply against the polished floor.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!" The voice calls out lazily, not even bothering to sound apologetic.

You stop in your tracks as a figure finally appears at the threshold of what you assume is the study. Satoru Gojo strides out, looking like he couldn’t care less about your presence. His white hair is slightly messy, falling carelessly over his forehead, and he’s dressed casually in a loose-fitting white shirt and black pants, the kind of outfit someone of his status might wear to keep things comfortable while still looking polished. You stare at him for a moment, noting how his playful, almost mischievous grin makes him seem like someone who hasn’t taken a single thing seriously in his life. Maybe this is why they told you to just walk in without warning. This guy didn’t even bother standing up the moment he heard someone entering his home.

“So, you’re the new babysitter?” His tone is light, amused, and you can already tell he’s not taking this job seriously at all. He doesn’t even bother to get off the couch, merely reclining with his legs sprawled out in front of him. “I thought they’d send someone with a little more... personality.”

Your lips press into a tight line, frustration rising in your chest. This was the guy you were supposed to be protecting? It was a far cry from what you had imagined. It’s okay! You expected this. I mean, the pay wouldn’t be 15 million for no reason right? All you had to do was endure this asshat for 3 days, and you’d be out, never having to do it again with the amount of money you’ll accumulate by then. 

“I’m not your babysitter, Gojo,” you reply flatly, setting the file down on the coffee table between you. “I’m here to ensure you stay out of trouble for the next three days.”

He doesn’t seem fazed, however. He tilts his head back and stretches his arms over his head with a casual ease that only someone with his kind of wealth and status could pull off. “Oh, come on, you don’t have to be so serious all the time, miss. Relax a little. This doesn’t have to be a hard job, does it?” 

You nod, a small, twitching smile on your lips. Yeah, this doesn’t have to be hard for the two of you, just don’t let yourself be absorbed into his insufferableness, and things will be all fine and dandy.

The smile on his face never fades, though there’s something in his eyes—something that makes you realize he’s enjoying the tension between you more than he should. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he regards you with a look that borders on teasing. “Don’t worry miss bodyguard, I’ll make sure to cooperate extra well for you,” he says, his voice oozing with mock sincerity.

Gojo’s eyes flicker with curiosity for a brief moment before his grin turns more knowing. You were far from what he expected. When his father told him he’d be hiring professionals to keep him in check, he was expecting a middle aged old grump with a tragic backstory, not an angry little kitten that was his age. 

You take a deep breath, keeping your cool. You’re a professional. You endured 4 years of brutal training, and spent the next 5 years being an active soldier, one man child isn’t gonna break you. “Where do we start?”

“Start?” Gojo repeats, his eyes twinkling with a challenge. “I’ll give you a tour of the place. Get settled in, and we’ll figure things out from there.” All of a sudden, he’s all buddy-buddy and normal, standing from his seat with a groan that tells you it’s the first time in a few long hours he’s standing from that couch.

“Okay,” you mutter, though you know the last thing you need is to be stuck following him around all day. But you have no choice now—this is the job you so happily accepted. Perhaps you just had a bad first impression, right? Maybe this is just his personality and he’s actually a nice guy under all that ego!

Gojo leads you through the penthouse with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, his movements exaggerated for your benefit. The whole time, you feel his eyes on you, like he’s analyzing you as much as you’re analyzing him. He talks non-stop, making sarcastic comments here and there, each one more annoying than the last, and you keep your responses short but interactive. Last thing you wanna hear is him whining about you being a cold person. 

When you finally arrive at the guest room, he gestures dramatically to the sleek, modern decor. “There you go. It’s not much, but it’ll do for the next ten days. I hope you like the view,” he adds, pulling back the heavy curtain to reveal a stunning view of the city skyline, one you’ve seen countless times in your dreams. 

You take a step inside, but before you can say anything, Gojo’s already made his way back to the living room. “I’ll be in my office if you need me. Don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

As you stand there, staring at the sprawling apartment, you feel a strange tension in the air. You’ve dealt with dangerous situations, but this—this was something else. This penthouse may be the safest area in the entire apartment complex, but there’s something in here that greatly unsettles you, that what’s dangerous isn’t outside of this place, but inside. Your eyes linger on the door that your manchild is behind and you finally realize how hard your heart is thumping against your chest. 

It’s Gojo.

Gojo’s the dangerous one here. 

Shaking your head, you set down your bags, neatly placing them against the door before you pull out your phone to check if there were any updates from your boss—any additional information or duties perhaps, but your notification bar is empty. (thankfully)

Ding!

Omg, have you heard about the attack at the training center?

You raise an eyebrow at the text you received from a friend that was followed by a 10 second video she sends. The thumbnail sends chills down your spine, the image of an unsettling trainee with bloodshot eyes and protruding veins being the first thing you see. He has blood dripping down his chin, his teeth stained with a deep red. There's no possible way that was real. This is probably a prank, right?

As you play the video, you realize the unmoving body in the background with blood pooling around it isn't a prank. Neither is the way the zombie thing continues to bang its head against the glass part of the door where the cameraman stands behind. You can hear people screaming in the background and the labored breathes of the person holding the camera.

What the fuck?

For this type of thing to happen in a military training center is unheard of. With the amount of security and the amount of trained professionals around, they would shoot at the sight of suspicious movement. Perhaps that trainee was infected in the facility itself?

You sigh, shaking your head. That wasn't for you to worry about. You're sure they've already taken care of the situation, making sure no one else would be harmed after one casualty. Besides, you weren't even in the military anymore, so what business did you have with all this?

You lock your phone and toss it onto the counter with a bit more force than intended, the dull clatter echoing in your quiet apartment. For a moment, you stand there, staring at the blank wall in front of you, the disturbing video replaying itself in your mind despite your best efforts to shake it off. It was none of your business, you remind yourself. You weren't a part of that world anymore—no chain of command, no classified briefings, no need to carry the weight of threats on your shoulders.

Still, the unease lingers like an itch you can't quite scratch. The image of that bloodied trainee and the helpless body in the background refuses to leave your thoughts, clawing its way into the forefront no matter how hard you try to shove it back. The screams and the clattering of rushes footsteps ring in your ears like a broken radio.

“Snap out of it,” you mutter to yourself, dragging a hand through your hair. Standing still wasn’t helping. Maybe you just needed to clear your head, step outside for a bit and distract yourself with something mundane. Groceries. That was the perfect excuse to leave this place. And besides, it would help to restock in the case that a zombie apocalypse would really break out soon.

Opening the door, you’re surprised to see Gojo sitting in the living room, manspread as he switches through the channels with a bored look on his face. His eyes glaze over to you, a grin stretches through his lips. “Out so soon? I know my face is irresistible, but you barely spent 5 minutes in there, miss bodyguard.” As soon as he opens his mouth, it’s like flies are flocking over to him. You push aside the feeling of annoyance, not wanting to waste energy on him. 

“I’m going out to buy groceries. Is there anything you want?” You sigh for the fifth time today, hand resting on the doorknob of the front door. 

“Anything sweet pleaseee” He hums sending you a wink that has you cringing before focusing back on the TV.

Nodding, you make sure the credit card provided to you is safe in your pocket before heading out. You’re greeted by a kind cleaning lady who smiles at you with fondness, “My, I didn’t know such a pretty young lady lived here!” Her voice is soft, reminding you of your grandmother whom you dearly miss. You smile back at her, feeling yourself relax in her presence, “I’m not moving in, auntie. Just staying with a friend for a few days.”

“Oh my, that’s a shame. I would have loved to see you everyday!”

You chuckle at her response, politely saying goodbye before stepping into the empty elevator. 

Whilst you were out on a grocery store run, Gojo shuts off the TV, a serious expression overturning his previously cheerful one. He was getting sick and tired of his father hiring these people to watch over him like he was a child. Being a detective was a step he took to free himself from the chains of being born into his family, a step he took to rebel against his unreasonable father, who was a businessman obsessed with continuing his legacy, he didn't expect the price he had to pay would be getting house arrested by his father in his own home with some stranger.

He hops off of the couch, walking over to your room and opening the door without a care in the world. He snoops through your things, looking through your identification cards, opening all the pockets in your bag. He’s surprised when he discovers an ID tucked away in the deepest depths of your bag, as if you didn't want to see it but kept it with you because you didn't want to let go.

​​Gojo's fingers brush against the smooth, metallic edge of the card as he pulls it out of the hidden pocket in your bag. The ID feels substantial in his hands, heavier than an ordinary card, exuding an air of authority and importance. He almost feels guilty snooping around like this.

The front of the card is dominated by a sleek, black matte finish that absorbs light, giving it a tactical, almost stealth-like appearance. At the top, bold silver letters gleam against the dark background:

“13th Special Mission Brigade”

Below that, a faint watermark of the Decapitation Unit’s insignia—a black panther—catches the light at certain angles, visible only upon close inspection. 

Your photograph occupies the upper-left corner, a stern, no-nonsense expression on your face. You wear your ceremonial full dress uniform, badges of what you've done and where you've been displayed onto the clean cloth. Next to the photo, your name is printed in capital letters, the font crisp and official: 

Y/N L/N

Lieutenant Colonel, Decapitation Unit

Beneath your name, your serial number and rank are listed in smaller, but equally precise text, alongside a QR code that has been scratched out, an occurrence that happens only if you've been discharged from duty.

The right side of the card displays the unit's motto in embossed silver script:  

Silence in Action, Swift in Justice.

Just below the motto is a small holographic seal that shifts between the South Korean flag and the emblem of the Decapitation Unit, further verifying its authenticity that Gojo was most definitely not doubting at this point. Around the edges, faintly visible microtext runs continuously, forming a border of tiny but legible words repeating:  

For honor, for country, for the safety of all.

On the back, the design is equally meticulous. The background is a faint camouflage pattern in shades of gray and black, with a magnetic stripe running across the top. Centered in bold red letters is a warning:  

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY: This card must be presented upon request. Unauthorized use is punishable by law.

Beneath it, a small, clear rectangular panel reveals an embedded fingerprint that has also been scratched out by a blade. The rest of the back contains rows of text detailing clearance levels, blood type, and emergency contact information.

Gojo turns the card over in his hands, raising an eyebrow. "So, former Lieutenant Colonel, huh?" he murmurs to himself, a mix of admiration and suspicion flickering in his eyes. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he slipped the card back where he found it, making sure to tuck it away with the same care. 

“Guess you’re not as simple as you seem, miss bodyguard,” he mutters, stepping out of your room. The gears in his mind are already turning, trying to piece together just how someone with your past ended up here, protecting him.

The buzzing of your phone on the bedside table catching his attention, the constant dings sending a mix of irritance and curiosity through him. Well, he’s already touched all your things, what more was a phone? He takes the phone in his hands, testing his luck by typing 12345 in. He face palms when your phone opens, wondering why a special forces agent would set a password like that on her phone. He opens the chat that’s been spamming you, skimming over the ‘y/n stop ignoring meee’ ‘i know you’re seeing this’ and the random emojis being sent. 

A video with the thumbnail equivalent to a zombie horror movie garners his attention, his finger tapping the play button without much thought, thinking he’d be watching some kind of trailer to an upcoming film. But he’s met with a gruesome sight, the same thing you had watched before leaving. His eyebrows furrowed as he tries to comprehend the scene.

Then he’s reminded of a recent case he investigated before being locked in this penthouse by his father. It was manslaughter, with the victim being the front desk worker of a motel. The crime scene was gruesome—bite marks and ripped flesh along the neck of the man. They had originally thought the perpetrator fled from the scene, but as he scanned the room, he discovered the motherfucker hiding under the bed, his mouth still dripping with blood. “I don’t remember much of what happened.” He said as they interrogated him on the scene, “I just took this drug, and before I knew it, I kinda blacked out.” 

He had originally thought it was a classic case of reckless manslaughter under the influence of illegal narcotics because the perpetrator seemed perfectly human. No bloodshot eyes and no visible veins like in the video he watched. 

Perhaps they were completely unrelated. 

He’s about to erase all evidence of him snooping around your phone until the last message your friend sends makes him pause.

‘They say he returned to normal when he was transported into the vehicle, that’s so freaky!’ 

Okay, they’re definitely related.

He puts your phone back on the table, rushing to his room where he opens his drawer and removes the hidden compartment that contained a capsule he found in the crime scene of the motel safely sealed in a tiny ziplock bag. It’s clear blue with a shine around the edges. He opens his laptop, entering the police force search engine and encoding his badge number before surfing the net for information about a blue capsule drug. 

The most similar one in appearance is a treatment drug for pneumonia called, ‘Next’. It had failed due to the fact that it was mutagenic, meaning it had the chance of mutating human DNA. 

It didn’t take a lot of brain cells to conclude that this drug was probably the cause for the odd series of events. Judging from the way an apocalypse hasn’t started and he doesn’t hear people screaming for their lives, then the military probably has this disease under control. Just when he’s about to sigh from relief, he hears a loud thud from the hallway of his apartment building, followed by three more before an eerie silence deafens him. He has half the mind to check outside, but he knows that’s probably the last thing he wants to do. The amount of horror movies he’s binge watched tells him that the first to die is always the one to check whatever’s going on.

Then his front door opens. 

“(y/n)...?” He calls out, goosebumps rising on his skin. 

“Gojo, stay in your room.”

He’s not sure why, but he’s relieved it’s you who walked through that door, and not some flesh eating monster.

a/n: first chapter outtt yaaayyyyy!!!! kinda scared for this series bc the premiere didnt get a lot of attention😞 anyway!! hope u guys enjoyed this chapter💖

taglist: @atomicweaselpaperapricot @boothillglazer

[housefreak]

also i had to go through every one of my websites (4 of them) to find sharknado 4: the 4th awakens. like they all had listings but non actually had players of it except the last one that was very much a tv rip with commercials edited out & no subtitles

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando Alonso × Unconventional Drinking Implements

[itsalwaysdark]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms

[orcelito]

Reading up on the people on my election ballot and there's some combination of "can ANYONE tell me what their policies actually are???" (Specifically with the smaller offices) VS "Oh, so YOU'RE the reason why Indiana has an abortion ban! Duly noted!"

[waywardsalt]

so um. very glad that throughout all this time i never had the end poem spoiled to me

[marsuni]

does your doctors ever just drop something on you much later about your meds or your conditions and it explains a lot

[dorkicon]

bitching abt homophobia n shit at my job in the tags o7 happy pride

[nomaishuttle]

i do fr need to work on differentiating between "actually middleclass" and "doesnt live paycheck to paycheck" lmao bc that is something i struggle with... obviously ik i have more in common with like. even somebody whos fr middleclass disney vacations every year. I know i have more in common with them than i do with bezos but god at least i dont have to see bezos being annoying in front of me every day KJANDJKLNLJD

[todayisafridaynight]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME BRO I COULD CRYYYYYYYYYYYYY 😭😭😭😭😭I hope it does not disappoint... REAL THOUGH about the drama you mentioned in your tags, that's exactly how I felt reading If My Wife Becomes An Elementary School Student's title, for example, but I'm told it's wholesome☠️☠️I would love to hear about the one you were thinking of though!

I WILL BEAR IT IN MIND TO PREPARE FOR ARACHTAGON WHENEVER THE TIME COMES... totally understandable to get frustrated with RNG on top of that, RPGs can be so evil 😭😭😭still, again, I'm glad you're back to it! Also totally understandable to want to play on the original consoles... NOTHING beats the experience... the availability of playthroughs nowadays is nice for sure to be able to experience the series without investing that much!

I would LOVE to see more Normal interactions between Ichiban and Jo for real😭they have so much potential for silly moments... ever-thankful for your content and I Can't Say Enough always looking forward to whatever you might have in store :] whether it's that or something else :]

I EXPECT YOU'RE DONE WITH EPISODE EIGHT NOW AT MINIMUM SO I WILL JUST SAY the Ohashi arc and Episode Ø [<- why the hell is ep eight called this] are peak to me I am soooo glad you enjoyed the arc... LOVE the OST too, Yugo Kanno is a legend. HOWEVER all the songs on it are titled words that start with S and P so you get titles like Scarlet Pussy 😭

OH BUT SPEAKING OF SP'S WACKASS STRUCTURE pleeeeeaaaase consider watching SP: The Motion Picture and SP: The Motion Picture: The Final Episode after you finish the show... there is A Cliffhanger and those are the true conclusions to the story... and SP Final In Specific is what blew my nuts clean off...

STOPPP NO THAT'S EXACTLY THE DRAMA I WAS TALKING ABOUT BUT I DIDNT WANNA SNITCH ON MYSELF 😭😭 it really is a cute show..... im ngl it has some of my fave tsutsumi scenes/performances like it TRULY blew my expectations out of the water. i just feel SOOO awkward about it cause.. with a title like That and a premise Like That i wouldnt blame a single person for giving me a weird ass look so i generally try not to talk about it ☠️ its my guilty treat so to speak and i cant even tell if im making it sound worse than it actually is (╯x╰ )

in any case... i finished Security Police SO !!! onto After The Rain for me when it comes to Media Thats Awkward To Talk About But Please Believe Me When I Say Its Not What You're Thinking :]

LMAO PLEASE like... so long as you have the right equipment you don't even really have to do much extra grinding by the time you get to him... it truly is just hoping RNG doesnt dick you over ☠️ i've been cruising through the game since tho ! i dont expect myself to get into anymore awkward blockades anytime soon and then i can finally say i finished this game (●ˇ∀ˇ●)

THANK YA THANK YA it aint much but its honest work..... i have been real dead this week tho and i always get scared if ill draw again durin periods like this- i HOPE to come up with something soon cause there really is an untapped well of Good Stuff to be explored :]]

THE SOUND DESIGN OF SP WAS REALLY GOOD IN GENERAL THOUGH LIKE not just music wise was it good but i really loved hos inoue's migraines gave me migraines... immersion... but also just knowing when to keep things dead silent (like finding nishijima's corpse) did SOOO well to put emphasis.. the weird as hell names are just bonus points by now like. Gotta Let Bro Have SOMETHING As A Thank You For The Sound Design (╯▽╰ ;;) OH BUT IM GLAD THERE'S MOVIE TIE-INS CAUSE THE LAST SCENE HAD ME CONCERNICUS LIKE 👁️👁️? i was only able to find the first 2010 movie on the site i usually go to but its somethin...

[kuiinncedes]

not me just realizing i can put stickers on my sketchbook cover and then immediately using up almost all of the rest of my stickers lmao

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[psilocybinaut]

It sure does feel like an extra fucking full plate

[itsalwaysdark]

ill be like I can totally make a lighthearted post mentioning a kink i have and i wont even freak abt it. and then i freak abt it

[phagodyke]

really horribly anxious this morning and can't seem to shake it off :-(

[arolesbianism]

I should rly play portal, but at the same time I find it kind of funny to have it continue to exist as that one game I'd fuck around with the physics in as a lil kid instead of actually doing the puzzles in my memories especially since I'm sure I'd have rly liked glados if I actually bothered to actually progress in the video game I was playing