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#but to the point that he cannot live away from me
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AITA for banning a child from my house?
It's not my child, btw- it's my cousin, an 8 y/o autistic boy. I am 15 and it's technically not my house.
For context, my cousin has EXTREMELY severe autism, to the point where he quite literally cannot form any connections with people and does not sit down at all. He is always running around, yelling in garbled speech, and doesn't understand words, sentences, or commands. He only responds to his name when his mother calls it. He isn't intelligent mentally, either. I do love him a lot in spite of how he has never paid attention to me or treats both me and everyone else around him as though they don't exist.
I have (had?) a cat. I have raised this cat for 3 years and I got this little furball when he was only 2 weeks old. I gave him milk and cared for him so, so much. He was a Persian-British mix and was, frankly, pretty dumb and sleepy all the time. Like a little doll.
My cousin also, apparently, decided that my cat, Velvet, was doll-like, because he grabbed Velvet and refused to let the cat go. I was in the bathroom at the time and only heard the cat's mewing. Nobody else was home. My cousin thought it would be nice to throw Velvet out of the window. Our 4th-story window. Velvet was a spoilt little thing and had never really lived outside of a house, and consequently, died. My cousin? Didn't care. Just went away from the open window and went back to running around the house.
I came out only a few seconds later and was very confused as to just WHERE was the previously mewing cat, and obviously I couldn't just ask my cousin, since he can't talk and wouldn't be able to think of it either. My mom found the fucking CORPSE when she came back home. I was horrified and, while I don't think this was the proper thing to do to a little boy who has absolutely ZERO awareness of his surroundings, I proceeded to absolutely scream my head off at my cousin while grabbing his arm, which resulted in an absolute meltdown from him and my aunt (who had also just arrived) having to physically pry me off him as I was crying. I don't think I can be really blamed for being upset over my cousin KILLING my BELOVED PET just because he was born wrong. I also sort of yelled at my aunt to never come here or bring her son here ever again. My mother has severely chastised me for that and had ME grounded. What the fuck. Mental illnesses aren't all sunshine and rainbows, y'all. Ugh. I feel like I AM the asshole, but honestly. Consider the circumstances. I hate it here and I miss my fucking cat.
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astralis-ortus · 2 days
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beyond forever and eternity
✱ husband!bc x fem!reader
— love cannot survive on luck alone.
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w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff warning → chan referred to as chris, quite the amount of kisses, mild cussing, and the usual very ew-you're-so-in-love behavior. also, reader is addressed as wifey twice! a.n → based on this request! but friends, i think you need to stop me from all this domestic chan thing because i!! am!! dying!! from!! all!! the!! cuteness!!ㅠ /j
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the past year had felt like the best time of your life.
sure, the first 6 months were filled with one heck of an emotional rollercoaster—a bunch of final wedding preparations, taking care of all the confusing legal papers, making sure your new home with chris was up to both your expectations, and actually having the wedding within the span of 180 days made you wonder if everything was real.
the latter part of the year is when your new reality starts to sink in. some days, it happened when you woke up next to a softly snoring chris—curls as messy as a bird’s nest, yet you couldn’t help but tread your fingers through those dark locks. some others, it happened when you watch his back while he showed off his newly acquired cooking skill, giggling away while chris convinces you—though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself—that eveything’s going exactly to plan.
other days, however, it happens simply when you caught a glance of the stack of beautiful silver bands on your ring finger, gleaming softly under the light of your cozy living room. you’d then look at your husband sitting next to you, faint crease decorating his forehead as his gaze focuses on a project he’d been working on for the past hour or so. you’d gently bring your finger to tap on those crease, immediately erasing its existence as chris shifted his focus towards you, gaze softening along the appearance of his dimpled smile.
being married to chris had felt like coming home—like he has always been everything you’ve been looking for and more.
“has it started?”
chris’ soft voice along with the warmth of his arm snaking around your waist swiftly snapped you out of your trance, gaze returning to your husband’s smile. you silently shook your head, instead wrapping your arms around his waist and gave into his warmth while allowing a content sigh to slip past your lips. “wasn’t paying attention, honestly,” you admitted, to which he immediately returned with chuckle.
“you’re sleepy?” he gently planted his lips on your forehead while running his palm on your side. “wanna call it a night?”
“no!” you whined, lips pursing in protest. “i’m not sleepy. besides, it’s only like 2 minutes till new year, and i want to spend the first seconds awake with my husband,” you playfully emphasized—and there it was. the rosy bloom across his face quietly surfaces despite chris’ attempt to play it cool, and it never fails to amuse you.
guess it won’t be hard for you to bet that you’ll never be the only one in love in this relationship.
“gosh, wifey,” looking at you with a scrunched nose, chris finally let the adoration bubbling in his chest win when he playfully ruffles your hair—which, of course, earns a string of protests from you, “do you really love me that much?”
“think so,” you stuck out your tongue, eyes twinkling as you decide to further tease your now-red-as-a-tomato husband. “i think i love you so so so much to the point i might pass out. i mean, how can i not? you’re charming, you’re adorable, you’re handsome, you’re hot as fuck—how do you expect me not to? i’m just—“
you haven’t been paying attention—but again, how could you? your gaze had been fixated on chris’ beautiful features, taking notes on every minuscule scar and freckles painted across his blooming face; but as the plush of his lips shuts off your rambling ones, warm hands cradling your equally warm cheeks,
you could hear the fireworks within you harmonize with the colorful blasts outside the window of your hotel room.
you know you’re lucky—despite believing in the concept of soulmates, you know there are universes where your path with chris’ remains as distant, separated parallel lines. you know that nurturing your relationship with chris will have its ups and downs. you know what you have now with chris will forever be both unbreakable and fragile,
and you’re determined to turn your every day with chris as special as it could be.
“happy new year, wifey,” he mumbled quietly, lips fixed into a smile as it grazed against yours when he finally pulled away. pads of fingers tucking the stray strands off your face, chris followed the kisses across your face—on your forehead, your closed eyelids, your rosy cheeks, your soft jaw, before he returned his lips home onto yours.
“thank you for staying with me—for promising­ your forever to me, and i’m looking forward to spending my eternity with you,” with a smile apparent on his lips, his gaze were soft as he tenderly peered into your glossy ones.
“i love you—more than words could ever explain.”
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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alienpossession · 3 days
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After a very demanding workout session and having several hours to spend before his date, Dean decided to slide into his Instagram and treated his close friends with some personal Q&A sesh
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But, all the close friend and Dean himself are not necessarily of this world, to put it simply. Hence, the question that started to pile up might not sound like a series of question that you would ask in a normal human conversation
"How can you end up in his body? What's the trick? My host is a decent-sized jock and the battle to gain control over his body was crazy tough, cannot imagine yours,"
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I just followed the manual, you know. Caught them off-guard and ensure that they are tired. He fell asleep inside this personal sauna after a grueling workout. Add the fact that he was cutting to prep himself for a bodybuilding competition, well, that's a cocktail for success to tame a beastly jock this size
"Is the sexual stamina better compared to your previous host, noting the size differences 😜😜"
LOL, sorry for the disappointment back then, Gustavo. There's not a lot of people that can withstand your sexual prowess anyway, but I'm definitely the top if we are ever hooking up again
"How do you handle the first 24 hours? The crash after all his memory become accessible must've been out of this world!"
Messed my bed like a baby, but it's cum and sweat instead of piss HAHAH. Yeah, crazy shit, dude is a horny, power-hungry muscle beast
"So, have you converted his significant others? Or do you plan to just mindfuck them later so they will be working as indentured labor?"
Nope, not yet. He lived on his own anyway so we gotta wait for the 4th of July break for it to happen. But the girlfriend already fell though, bitch never stood a chance once I plugged her throat with this monster, she was a sobbing flailing mess when mini-mes swarmed her throat and entire body. Now I told her to help out on slowly infecting my friends. Gotta do it subtly though, no reason actually, just love to play with those oblivious human
"Favorite thing to do as human, aside from sex obviously,"
To be honest, partying. It's just so nice being a 6'6", 225 lbs mass of a presence in a dark, packed club or even festival grounds with great music. I always have party or at least a night out inside my calendar for most of the week, such a blast. And of course, sex also involved to really spice things up, but honestly I don't mind if there's any sex or not as long as the party is lit
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And Dean keep on answering all sort of other questions, thinking that his identity as a converted alien puppet remain hidden due to the close friends feature. But his little brother, a 21 years old sophomore living 300 miles away from him, took screenshot of every single close friend stories that Dean made, his mind distraught by the fact that his older brother practically no longer exist but his dick chubbed up to the point of leaking pre as his wildest sexual kink manifested in real time and happened to someone he personally knows.
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So, like any horny 21 years old, he decided to rub one out while letting his brother stories played in loop. Should he confront Dean about all of this? Or will that risk him turned into a puppet too?
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mayajadewrites · 1 day
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Could've Been You: Aizawa x Fem!Reader x Hawks
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summary: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy. Nothing could go wrong... right? relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader warnings: some chapters will be NSFW, they will have a warning on them in bold. not many descriptions of reader, other than she's midsize.
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT hehe (protected sex, handjob)
ao3
TAG LIST:
@come-away-with-me87, @kxshdoll, @evilsanzu, @friendly-neighborhood-turtle, @lili-pond,
@the-unhinged-raccoon @falling4fandoms @cherry-cosmoz @kkgraham @big-denki-energy @aphrodite-xoxo @keiweeny
CHAPTER EIGHT
You woke up in your own bed the next morning. Your pussy was sore from the feast Shouta Aizawa had last night, the skin must be raw.
You stand up to stretch your limbs and feel a headache creep into your body. A groan leaves your lips as you walk to the mirror in your living room.
You examine your body - more specifically your neck and chest.
Purple marks everywhere.
This man wanted to mark you. "What a jackass." You roll your eyes and pad to the bathroom, but not before you pass the vase of roses on your table.
Keigo.
It's wrong that you're doing this. It's wrong that you're sleeping with Keigo while doing... things with Shouta.
To play devil's advocate - you're single. You can date however many men you want.
You pile the concealer on your skin, making sure in every lighting you cannot see past the makeup.
You trained class 1A in the field today, letting them develop strategies that they could possibly use to defeat a villain that had your quirk.
Your arms were crossed over your chest when a familiar tall, muscular figure dressed in black walks into the field. His hair is in a messy ponytail again, his grey scarf wrapped loosely around his neck.
He nonchalantly stood next to you with his hands in his pockets as he watched the kids, his kids, work together to form a strategy.
"Good morning." Aizawa said flatly as his eyes followed the class.
You stay silent as you observe the children working together, taking mental note of who is taking the lead.
"Didn't know I took away your ability to speak."
"I didn't know you were incapable of not making me look like I fell down the stairs for 3 years straight." You didn't turn your head to look at him. He half smiled as his eyes wandered over your figure.
"Looks fine to me."
"That's because I have 5 concealer bottles worth of product on me."
"You need this?" He pointed to his scarf.
"Yeah. To choke you with." You rolled your eyes.
"We'll do that later, Princess." Aizawa's voice was low, so low only you could hear it.
You scoff and walk a few steps towards the kids. "Okay, that's enough for today." You clap your hands. "Next week you'll be going up against me and Mr. Aizawa. So study and form a plan in your respective groups."
Shouta looked at you with a surprised smirk on his face. "You're including me in your class plans?"
"Might as well make yourself useful." You turned on your heel to walk out of the field. Aizawa watched your curvy body as you walked away from him, your ass slightly jiggling in your skirt. He bit his lower lip as he watched, thinking about last night.
Hoping you remembered every moment of it.
And you do.
Every. Single. Second.
___________________________
The rest of the week flew by as you continued your class. You're finally getting the hang of your teaching rhythm. You kept up with Keigo, but your feelings for Shouta have been weighing heavy on your mind.
Would it be wrong if you paid more attention to Shouta? You didn't want to lose Keigo, actually, you still wanted to explore your romantic relationship with him.
But you also really wanted to fuck Aizawa.
He didn't need to know what you're doing, right? After all - he's not your boyfriend.
Neither is Aizawa.
Friday came soon enough and it was time for Keigo to come over. Part of you wished it was Shouta coming over.
"Hello, beautiful." Keigo said as you opened the door. He greeted you with a soft kiss, which felt so different from Shouta's lips. Keigo liked when you took the lead, which made you feel powerful. Made you feel like he needed you.
"Hi." You smile against his lips and lead him into your room. He's carrying a small duffle bag filled with everything he needs for a stay over.
"How was your week baby bird?" He dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around your body, twirling you around.
You giggled as he lifted you off your feet. "Good actually. I don't think the kids hate me." You kissed his cheek, your warm lips leaving a ghost mark on his skin. "How was yours?"
"It was fine." He shrugged and kicked his shoes off and pushed you gently against the counter. "I've been looking forward to this." His hands roamed to the fat of your ass, squeezing it gently with his large hand.
"Looking forward to groping me?" You teased.
"Mhm." Keigo nods as he goes in for another kiss. You press your lips to his and allow his tongue to enter your mouth.
He feels so different than Shouta.
Thankfully your hickies have faded, so touching won't be a problem tonight.
You deepen the kiss as his hands find your waist, picking you up and placing you on the counter so you're above him now.
You looked down at his honey glazed eyes, with the hair to match. He's so cute. Your index finger glides along the side of his face to his chin, making him close his eyes.
"I don't know what you do to me." His voice was so smooth. He leaned his face against your hand, feeling your touch. His eyes fluttered open to you.
He was yearning for you.
"Kei." You smile, feeling the heat between your legs intensify. He pressed his hand on your plush thigh, spreading your legs to let him in. You oblige by crashing your lips into his.
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Keigo took one of his hands and trailed it down your chest, your soft stomach, to your aching core. He could feel your wetness through the fabric. He smiled as his tongue dove into your mouth, his fingers rubbing circles on your heat.
You cradle the back of his head with your hand as you push your tits against him, the sensation causing him to moan. He turned his attention to them, your perfect, plump, fat tits. He lowered himself to your chest and knead them with his large hands as he threw his head back.
"Fuck." Was all he could get out as he buried his face in your tits. He kissed, bit, sucked, and licked the entirety of them. You pressed your palm against the back of his head, hoping that he kept going.
He took your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it roughly as he slipped his fingers into your leggings. His fingers are long but slim, nothing like Shouta's.
"You like these?" You pressed your arms around your tits, making them look even bigger than they already are. You wanted, no needed Keigo to talk more.
Tell you you're doing a good job.
Tell you that he wants this.
"Of course I do." His lips moved against your sweaty skin. "They're a work of art, baby bird."
You dragged your fingertips along his chest to find the button on his jeans. You could feel his erection pressed against the fabric of his jeans as you slid your hand inside of his pants. You wrapped your dainty hand around his length, teasing your thumb on the slit of his tip.
His heart was beating so fast it could've been a sign of a heart attack.
Your hands do something to him. He loves how you take care of your body, specifically your hands. Your skin is so soft and your nails are always done - manicured and perfect.
"Fuckkkkkk." He moaned as he pulled down his pants, letting his cock free. Your hand was still wrapped around him, pumping slowly as you stared into his eyes. You watched his eyes roll back as you pleasured him with only your hand.
"Do you have rubbers?" He could just barely open his eyes as his cock twitched in your hand. "I don't want to come on your hand."
You had this man ready to unravel and you're still (mostly) fully clothed.
"Yes." You hop off the counter and pull your tank top back over your tits before you pad into your room, pulling out the same box of condoms that you used before when you fucked Keigo for the first time.
Keigo grabbed your face when you walked back into the room, his tongue exploring your mouth roughly. His kisses are frenzied, like the world is about to end and the last thing he wants to remember is your lips.
You break away from the kiss and kneel down on the floor, tearing the condom wrapper. You slowly slide the rubber onto his length, watching his face in amusement.
He could not get enough of your hands on him.
You pull your pants down, wiggling your hips as you get them past your ass. You smirked when you notice Keigo is watching your body move, if his erection got any harder he might cut someone.
"You want this, baby?" You lean back against the counter and watch him through your lidded eyes.
He nods quickly. "Y-Yes."
"Have you been a good boy?" You voice was low, seductive even. You knew you held the power here and you loved it.
"Yes I've been a good boy. Please." Keigo whimpers.
"My sweet bird, hm?" Your hands hovered over his beautiful wings, your touch almost like fire. He winced at your touch, but not in a bad way. In a way where he needed you right here, right now.
You turn around and press your palms to the counter - your ass on full display. You spread your legs for him, waiting.
He pressed one palm to the small of your back as he aligned himself with your entrance. Inch by inch he pushed his length into your wet, warm pussy.
He almost bottomed out right there.
The sound of his thrusts against the fat of your ass filled the room as he picked up his pace. He grabbed your hips as he slammed into you, his strokes rougher than you remember.
You don't like doggy style all that much, only because you like looking at your partner. Watching their face as they experience pleasure.
Your pussy tightened around his length as he hit your sweet spot just right. Keigo dragged his fingers up your back to your tits, taking one of them in his hands and squeezing roughly. He used is thumb and index finger to play with your nipple as his thrusts became sloppy.
"I'm close, baby bird." His words came out as messy as his thrusts.
The words caused your pussy to clench around him, both of you reaching your highs. With one last thrust Keigo pulled out of you, his breath staggered.
Your body is sticky from the sweat and you need to shower.
"Want to shower with me?" You hold out your hand for Keigo.
"What kind of idiot would say no to that?" He takes your hand and follows you into your bathroom.
Keigo lathered you with soap and you made sure his the water wasn't too hot for his wings. He planted kisses on your face as he cleaned you, whispering compliments in your ear.
"You are beautiful in every lighting." He kissed your earlobe as he ran the washcloth down your arms.
"So are you." You gently poured water from your hands onto his wings. "You're gonna have to teach me how you take care of these things."
"I have a whole routine." He smiled proudly.
When you both washed off the sex you just had, you were exhausted. You climbed into bed, hawks quickly after you.
You fell asleep with Keigo's arms wrapped around you, his nose buried in your neck. He left kisses on your skin as he drifted into his own slumber.
When you woke up, he was gone.
No note. He didn't wake you up.
His stuff was gone.
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crimeronan · 3 days
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Camila horror thoughts. In the horrifically fraught family horrors sense of the term.
What if Vee has specifically warned Camila about Hunter, told her all about what he specifically has done in order to give her a heads up, in a way naturally coloured by the views she has (not unreasonably) built up around Hunter because of all the stuff she's done.
So naturally she's got this wariness of Hunter that does not compute when she sees how genuinely caring he is with Luz even if logically she knows people can act remarkably differently in different contexts and none of it negates all the stuff he did with The Basilisks for Belos. But Camila is still pretty sure that Luz doesn't know, and is terrified that if she knew it might destroy something that she is desperately reliant on, her relationship with Hunter. It probably wouldn't, Luz could probably live with that since well horrible nightmare trauma soulmates and by Luz's standards she's done just as bad in a similar context but Camila and Luz keeping secrets for almost the exact same reason (to protect the people they love from horrors they are too insane to be affected by) appeals to me.
But the problem now arises, Camila's told Luz that she has adopted another kid, and Luz in the spirit of trying her best to reach out does want to see Vee or have her visit with Camila next time she comes or something like that since like, thats a normal thing to do on reconnecting with your estranged mother and finding out you have an adopted sister you've never met.
Vee, bless is not going along with that "don't tell Luz how horrible Hunter is since she is hopelessly codependent on him" bullshit at all. Camila knows that, Vee knows that. Camila knows she cannot ethically or reasonably expect Vee to not spill all of Hunter's darkest secrets to Luz in an attempt to ruin his life since, y'know all the stuff he did to her specifically.
For Vee the nicest most compromise-y thing she can do, is just never meet Luz face to face, and thats only because of her respect for Camila. But there's no way Luz isn't going to to notice or be concerned about this so there's this constant ticking time bomb of "when am i gonna meet Vee' since "oh she's off at college" isn't gonna work forever.
god this is all so good. i've been thinking about it since you sent this ask a few hours ago now. bc like. god. there's So Much....
i think you're 100% right that vee would try to stay out of things. she's like mama respectfully i'm ready to meet her IF i'm allowed to scream a lot of pent-up utterly unhinged bullshit but otherwise i think it's best for me not to be involved.
and camila is SUCH a bad liar. if she tried to say that things were fine with vee, luz would clock that something was wrong immediately. she obviously wouldn't jump to "she's from the isles" when there are so many more obvious conclusions -- maybe vee is jealous of luz for being the first daughter camila loved, maybe she's angry at luz for running away, maybe she's sick of luz monopolizing camila's time now when vee is used to having their mom all to herself....
regardless of what luz thinks is most likely, she's definitely like. Ah. I Am Driving A Wedge Between Them. This Is My Fault. On A Personal Level. Somehow.
and then on camila's end, that's even true to a point.... bc vee is getting increasingly more upset by the idea of protecting luz's feelings. i can absolutely see a very tired vee finally having the stress get to her & snapping, "why do you think she'll CARE?? she isn't going to care. even if she's as nice a person as you think she is, it's not like i'm a human or a witch. i'm nothing. she doesn't know how to care about people like me"
...there is, of course, a delicious and vicious irony in that. like. luz Very Much Does Know how to care about someone who isn't a witch or a human.
Oh God.
and then whenever luz meets vee, when it all finally Does come out.... i feel like it would sort of be worse for vee than anything she'd actually braced for. because luz DOES immediately care, she does act like it matters, she immediately wants to know everything and fix everything and make it all better, she immediately takes on all of the responsibility for everything the empire's ever done, she's so sorry, she didn't know, she would have done something, she can do something now--
--and vee is like well. HE knew. and he sure didn't want to help me!! even though i asked him to!! even though he KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING TO ME THE ENTIRE TIME
hunter has wisely remained quiet because he doesn't think he can really defend himself here. and luz has this moment of uncertainty and confusion, and then she looks at hunter's face, and for a second vee thinks that he's just going to straight-up deny it, but he doesn't. and luz seems to understand that it's all true.
and she doesn't look angry. or even betrayed.
and then she's trying to tell vee that hunter was always in danger when they were growing up, that there must have been extenuating circumstances that made rescue impossible, that he would have helped her if he could, that luz KNOWS he would have because he wouldn't just leave vee to suffer for no reason, that's not the kind of person he is,
and hunter is the one to be like luz. stop. she doesn't need to hear that right now. she can hate me. it's fine.
so vee's opinions on luz are like. 1) i hate that you're so nice that i look insane for being angry with you 2) you're a spineless coward who can't hold anyone accountable 3) you've fooled camila into thinking you're some helpless delicate flower by pretending to be sad when you DON'T care 4) if hunter is going to agree with me about anything then i should legally get to shoot him. just like once. i've never touched a gun or had any inclination to do so before today But I Should Get To Shoot Him .
camila's role in mediating this has mainly been to gently steer the conversation into more productive territory when it looks like it might devolve into panic attacks or violence from anyone involved. she's so fucking stressed by trying to keep things from coming to blows that there's like. no Way that she could do a professional-level job of Family Therapy Mediator.
god.
much 2 consider.
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rosegoldenatlas · 2 days
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Odysseus from Epic the Musical has two major character flaws. The first one is one of the more common ones in Greek myths- pride. This is shown in multiple songs but the first time I really noticed was during 'remember them' and 'my goodbye' for obvious reasons. He not only went directly against the advice of his patron goddess Athena, but implies that he doesn't need the aid of a literal goddess. Of course during the time he is in very intense emotional distress and Athena isn't helping. But buddy.
His second flaw however, is in my opinion much worse. He cannot find a middle point when it comes to anything. Like in 'luck runs out' when Eurylocous tells Odysseus that he's being kind of stupid.. in front of the whole crew. When he pulls Eurylocous aside instead of telling him 'hey next time you have any comment or complaints just pull me aside first please' like what would be a good compromise. He tells his brother in law that he should comply with everything he says and to stop talking about his opinion because its making people doubt him. (I can't have you plating seeds of doubt. I can't have you disagree each rout. I need you to always be devout an comply with this)
This flaw is shown beautifully in 'Monster' the act one closer when he lists people and their way of seeing I guess. (Begins on 'is the cyclops struck with guilt' ends with 'or does he throw away his remorse and safe more lives with guile') he will give an example of a way that could be seen as more human (cyclops is guilty, Circe saving her nymphs pain) and one more monstrous (cyclops avenging friend doesn't feel bad, Circe just being insane) he sees two polar opposites and nothing else.
Then he mentions Poseidon this is where Odysseus leans into the idea that one can't be a man in some regards and a monster in others. Poseidon's example is all more monstrous because he is a God. Odysseus then looks back at the war on troy and both justifies and does not justify his past actions. The end of the song reflects on how Odysseus believes he cannot be a man and a monster and uses his last two examples as how being the monster works (Poseidon and war of Troy)
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theokusgallery · 6 months
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What do you think Nick and Sunny's ethnicities are?
I've always somewhat headcanonned Sunny as Japanese-American, and Basil as having at least one European parent, both living in Europe, and an American grandmother. I have no idea where that second headcanon comes from. It's probably me projecting my own French-ness onto my favorite little blorbo -- another explanation is that OMORI seems to be pretty explicitely set in the USA, but Basil's parents are said to travel frequently and Sunny's never seen them in his life... and since it's easier to travel in Europe in my (limited) experience, my brain might've just made the association. Sunny being Japanese-American is a pretty popular headcanon because of his chara-design so I don't feel like I have to explain that one.
Anyway, they both live in France for plot reasons.
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infizero · 11 months
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WOKE UP TO THE FNAF TRAILER IM SOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING EXCITEDD RAHARHAGHRGHRHGHRGH
#SPRINGTRAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP#LETS FUCKING GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#jury is still technically out on whether at this point in time hes actually springtrap or if its still just william using the spring bonnie#suit. latter is more likely considering the knife and the fact that he was shown alive previously in the movie but you never know#the wear and tear on the suit doesnt look severe enough to be springtrap it just looks worn down cause of the age of it#also YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT KID IN THE CAR BEING DRIVEN AWAY FROM MIKE IN THAT FOREST DREAM SEQUENCE THING IS NOT THE CRYING CHILD#WHY DID THEY SPECIFICALLY SINGLE OUT THAT ONE KID. AND WHY DID THEY SHOW MIKE LOOKING SO DISTRESSED ABOUT IT#FOR SUREEEEE THATS HIS LITTLE BROTHER DUDE CMON#also im glad we have more details on mike and abby's situation but also i'd like more YOU GUYS ARE SIBLINGS RIGHT? why is mike seemingly#taking care of you on his own? please tell me all about your living situation at the beginning of the movie please so i can know exactly#what happened smile. tho hes probably gonna be vague about it and just be like ''its just me and abby now'' <- BECAUSE OF WHAT!#anyways. if the kid in the car ISNT the cc stand-in i will eat my fucking hat im so sure of it#anyways IM JUST SO EXCITED RAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#oh oh also VANESSA IS SUS AS FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean she was sus from the get go considering her name is literally vanessa. but like#HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THE ANIMATRONICS BEING POSSESSED??????? the murders i understand cuz ur a police officer#BUT YOU SHOULDNT KNOW ABOUT THE GHOST CHILDREN>???????? HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT!!!!!!!!!!#UR WORKING WITH AFTON FOR SURE!!!!!!!!!#serena.txt
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supercantaloupe · 1 year
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okay survived my lesson. head still hurts but survived and even managed to play some kalliwoda despite The Agonies. although it helps that my teacher spent the first full hour of our lesson talking about grad school and jobs and bitching about how much it sucks to make it as a professional musician
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beachboysnatural · 1 year
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#the thing is my mom carries so much pain inside her and i love her so much and she is wonderful#but at the same time there are things that i genuinely don't know if i can forgive. but she acts like there isn't anything#TO forgive which makes it worse#and whenever i bring anything up she doesn't change her behavior because she cannot recognize it when she's wrong about something#but she actually invalidates me a lot and i don't appreciate it and i KNOW i'm annoying about my special interests#but it really sucks that she makes it so obvious#like can't she pretend to be interested in what i want to tell her?? for once??#you'd think fifteen-plus years of her pretending i was perfectly okay would merit some infodumping on my part#it's just that she's never apologized for not doing anything to help me she's just made excuses and said 'well sorry but'#and that's not enough but at this point i'm not going to GET a genuine apology out of her#or out of my dad he isn't exempt from this!#like i'm scared to ask my dad if he's seen a movie i think he'd be interested in because i don't want to set her off#or deal with her disapproval. and she just doesn't care about my special interests at all#which i get but sometimes i feel like she doesn't really care that they make me happy either#like pretending that i'm not autistic now that i have shit figured out doesn't make it go away#it genuinely fucking sucks but i can't say anything to her because she can't cope with being wrong about anything. even jeopardy answers#this is why it means so much to me that you guys like when i infodump about old hollywood because no one else does#except my sister obvi but she does not live with me so#<333333#persannal
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rxkuyo · 2 years
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not me having to cancel the one event I was actually looking forward to because of work last minute 🥲
#not gonna lie to y'all#my will to live is dwindling so fast with every passing day ✌🏻#everyday I wake up to another minor inconvenience happening#but at this point with my worsening mental health they all feel like massive inconveniences lmao#I hate my fucking piece of shit life so much and I see no realistic way out of my current living situation#other than the option to off myself 🥲✌🏻#I'm literally so tired of my existence ngl#I'm doing all this for a shitty minimum wage job at a place that doesn't pay me for half the shit I do because they are fair and all#to barely make enough money to feed my pets and treat myself to a videogame every couple of months#which I am aware is more than some people have#but it isn't enough to move tf out and away from my piece of shit dad#and it certainly isn't enough to be able to afford actually working towards my trainer's license aka#the only bearable line of work I can see myself actually being somewhat good/ successful in#like I'm working my ass off and it's getting me literally nowhere and I'm starting to get so fucking frustrated#but then I also can't leave this place because I have to take care of my sick horse that isn't even my horse#but there's no one else who'd look after him#his owner certainly isn't#and I am fully aware that I cannot save him and he is doomed to be put down in the forseeable future#but I can at least keep on doing everything I can to at least ease his suffering for whatever time he has left#while seeing him get worse is also affecting me mentally like pretty negatively at times#like that horse has been the one single good thing in my life for the past years and with him likely dying#my reason to bear it all and keep going is just like gone ?#which is fun#it's fun#I love it#love my existence so much I literally just want this shit to be over aha#<3#personal#suicide mention tw#not literally but also literally iykwim ✌🏻
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mxdotpng · 8 months
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i know if i just started drawing them elio mavis and atlas would take the world by storm (unrealistic) but that would require drawing them regularly.
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bratbby333 · 1 month
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i will possess your heart – satoru gojo
-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-
𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k
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Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.
Click
January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.
Click
January 16th, 6:38 PM
My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.
Click
January 19th, 6:11 AM
Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.
Click
January 19th, 8:27 PM
I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it. 
Click
January 23rd, 5:13 AM
Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.
Click
January 23rd, 9:53 PM
She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again. 
Click
January 28th, 7:06 PM
My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be. 
Click
February 2nd, 8:31 AM
I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.
Click
February 5th, 6:21 PM
I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me. 
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.
That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her. 
With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.
He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.
It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area. 
Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit. 
In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love. 
These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?
Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to. 
He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces. 
Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine. 
Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get. 
You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.
Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away. 
On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you. 
“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.
When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you. 
There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf. 
You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.
Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.
His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month. 
“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening. 
You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.
His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well. 
Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.
Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.
Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?
But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.
Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease. 
For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down. 
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.
Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text: 
-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)
He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.
-I would love that. What time, my love?
Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.
-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.
Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours. 
A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.
Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text: 
-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.
You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. 
“What is it?” your coworker asked. 
“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face. 
Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.
You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.
No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries. 
You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now. 
“January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.
When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony. 
You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head. 
“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner. 
“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest. 
“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 
Click
Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you. 
“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?” 
You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life. 
The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting? 
Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room. 
As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he  stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.
He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.
Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.
A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.” 
“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.
“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.
He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.
Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue. 
A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.” 
Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.
“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.
“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”
He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.
“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.
“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you. 
A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy. 
Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote. 
Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him. 
“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”
There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. 
“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”
Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him. 
“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”
You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment. 
Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”
Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage. 
“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”
It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.” 
You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening. 
“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex. 
“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch. 
You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most. 
“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.
You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you. 
“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours. 
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author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.
this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol
alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆。˚
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.
3K notes · View notes
satoruhour · 9 months
Note
geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt
OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD
a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers
wc: 2.9k
warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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geto was a sweet roommate.
he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.
even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.
it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.
the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,
“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”
shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”
gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.
“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”
suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.
today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.
“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.
there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.
“(y/n)? love? you okay?”
“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”
“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”
geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.
“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”
geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.
“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.
geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.
what would it be like to actually wear it?
the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.
peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.
“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.
you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.
you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?
the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”
setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.
“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.
your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.
oh, shit.
and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.
fuck, did i say that out loud?
you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.
“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.
“yea— yeah…”
geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.
suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”
your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.
“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”
your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.
“yeah?”
you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.
“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.
“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.
“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.
geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.
“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.
“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.
“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.
you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”
“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”
you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”
your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”
he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.
geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.
“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 
“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.
“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.
“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”
you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.
once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”
you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.
he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.
you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—
as his roommate and maybe now, something more.
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part two ♡
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genderqueer-karma · 1 year
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beloved moots i’m sorry but i have to be unwell
#yo it's d :)#. sorry i’m about to be mentally ill in these tags but i cannot help it amen#do not read past this point if you want to have some semblance of a positive opinion about me#so basically if you’re vaguely aware of me at all you know that i am a HUGE mana fan. love that man more than a lot of things.#like. i’m pretty sure the parasocial bitch in me wins out almost 90% of the time.#that being said: IM SO FUCKING !!!! IM VERY HAPPY FOR HIM THAT HE GOT TO GO TO KOREA FOR THE BAROQUE 20TH ANNIVERSARY TEA PARTY#ITS THE FIRST TIME HES BEEN ABLE TO TRAVEL INTERNATIONALLY SINCE 2019 AND YOU CAN TELL HE REALLY LIKES TO TRAVEL BECAUSE OF THE WAY HE TALKS#ABOUT TRAVELING !!! I LVOE SEEING HIM BE HAPPY !!!#okay. now i can type normally.#i really appreciate him as a person and so i’m happy when he’s happy about things because there’s just. so much about him.#the last time he went out of jp was in 2019 to atlanta. obviously that’s a long time from now and very far away from where he lives.#but i’m glad hes getting back into international travel even in small ways like this :((#if he eve lr comes back to the states i would find a way to see him. i hope he comes back someday if just for a moitie fashion show or smth#anyways he posted a picture of him in seoul on twt and it made me feel so warm because he’s smiling a little bit and that’s so lovely 🖤🖤🖤#i genuinely think he needed to have this trip even if it was just for a day for an event !!!!!#i love that man so much
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fans4wga · 11 months
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"The studios thought they could handle a strike. They might end up sparking a revolution"
by Mary McNamara
"If you want to start a revolution, tell your workers you’d rather see them lose their homes than offer them fair wages. Then lecture them about how their “unrealistic” demands are “disruptive” to the industry, not to mention disturbing your revels at Versailles, er, Sun Valley.
Honestly, watching the studios turn one strike into two makes you wonder whether any of their executives have ever seen a movie or watched a television show. Scenes of rich overlords sipping Champagne and acting irritated while the crowd howls for bread rarely end well for the Champagne sippers.
This spring, it sometimes seemed like the Hollywood studios represented by the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers were actively itching for a writers’ strike. Speculations about why, exactly, ran the gamut: Perhaps it would save a little money in the short run and show the Writers Guild of America (perceived as cocky after its recent ability to force agents out of the packaging business) who’s boss.
More obviously, it might secure the least costly compromise on issues like residuals payments and transparency about viewership.
But the 20,000 members of the WGA are not the only people who, having had their lives and livelihoods upended by the streaming model, want fair pay and assurances about the use of artificial intelligence, among other sticking points. The 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists share many of the writers’ concerns. And recent unforced errors by studio executives, named and anonymous, have suddenly transformed a fight the studios were spoiling for into a public relations war they cannot win.
Even as SAG-AFTRA representatives were seeing a majority of their demands rejected despite a nearly unanimous strike vote, a Deadline story quoted unnamed executives detailing a strategy to bleed striking writers until they come crawling back.
Days later, when an actors’ strike seemed imminent, Disney Chief Executive Bob Iger took time away from the Sun Valley Conference in Idaho not to offer compromise but to lecture. He told CNBC’s David Faber that the unions’ refusal to help out the studios by taking a lesser deal is “very disturbing to me.”
“There’s a level of expectation that they have that is just not realistic,” Iger said. “And they are adding to the set of the challenges that this business is already facing that is, quite frankly, very disruptive.”
If Iger thought his attempt to exec-splain the situation would make actors think twice about walking out, he was very much mistaken. Instead, he handed SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher the perfect opportunity for the kind of speech usually shouted atop the barricades.
“We are the victims here,” she said Thursday, marking the start of the actors’ strike. “We are being victimized by a very greedy entity. I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly: How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they’re losing money left and right, when giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.”
Cue the cascading strings of “Les Mis,” bolstered by images of the most famous people on the planet walking out in solidarity: the cast of “Oppenheimer” leaving the film’s London premiere; the writers and cast of “The X-Files” reuniting on the picket line.
A few days later, Barry Diller, chairman and senior executive of IAC and Expedia Group and a former Hollywood studio chief, suggested that studio executives and top-earning actors take a 25% pay cut to bring a quick end to the strikes and help prevent “the collapse of the entire industry.”
When Diller is telling executives to take a pay cut to avoid destroying their industry, it is no longer a strike, or even two strikes. It is a last-ditch attempt to prevent le déluge.
Yes, during the 2007-08 writers’ strike, picketers yelled noncomplimentary things at executives as they entered their respective lots. (“What you earnin’, Chernin?” was popular at Fox, where Peter Chernin was chairman and chief executive.) But that was before social media made everything more immediate, incendiary and personal. (Even if they have never seen a movie or TV show, one would think that people heading up media companies would understand how media actually work.)
Even at the most heated moments of the last writers’ strike, executives like Chernin and Iger were seen as people who could be reasoned with — in part because most of the executives were running studios, not conglomerations, but mostly because the pay gap between executives and workers, in Hollywood and across the country, had not yet widened to the reprehensible chasm it has since.
Now, the massive eight- and nine-figure salaries of studio heads alongside photos of pitiably small residual checks are paraded across legacy and social media like historical illustrations of monarchs growing fat as their people starve. Proof that, no matter how loudly the studios claim otherwise, there is plenty of money to go around.
Topping that list is Warner Bros. Discovery Chief Executive Davd Zaslav. Having re-named HBO Max just Max and made cuts to the beloved Turner Classic Movies, among other unpopular moves, Zaslav has become a symbol of the cold-hearted, highly compensated executive that the writers and actors are railing against.
The ferocious criticism of individual executives’ salaries has placed Hollywood’s labor conflict at the center of the conversation about growing wealth disparities in the U.S., which stokes, if not causes, much of this country’s political divisions. It also strengthens the solidarity among the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and with other groups, from hotel workers to UPS employees, in the midst of disputes during what’s been called a “hot labor summer.”
Unfortunately, the heightened antagonism between studio executives and union members also appears to leave little room for the kind of one-on-one negotiation that helped end the 2007-08 writers’ strike. Iger’s provocative statement, and the backlash it provoked, would seem to eliminate him as a potential elder statesman who could work with both sides to help broker a deal.
Absent Diller and his “cut your damn salaries” plan, there are few Hollywood figures with the kind of experience, reputation and relationships to fill the vacuum.
At this point, the only real solution has been offered by actor Mark Ruffalo, who recently suggested that workers seize the means of production by getting back into the indie business, which is difficult to imagine and not much help for those working in television.
It’s the AMPTP that needs to heed Iger’s admonishment. At a time when the entertainment industry is going through so much disruption, two strikes is the last thing anyone needs, especially when the solution is so simple. If the studios don’t want a full-blown revolution on their hands, they’d be smart to give members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA contracts they can live with."
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