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#the nose knows even in space
anndramarama · 10 months
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Lest we forget, Christopher Pike grows herbs indoors.
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Humans are space orcs but instead of aliens it’s eldritch abominations
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rainymoodlet · 9 months
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i mean legit the best example i can give of dan’s purposeful censorship of his life was in that last post tbh
his reality: horrific absolute monster deadbeat dad who made him and his family’s life a living hell
what he says: my dad was mean to my mom :(
#he’s not LYING… he just… refuses to go further fjdjjf#like if his siblings want to vent to him abt their dad??? go ahead#but dan is a Steel Fortress ugh#i could talk abt him for hours i’m sorry pff#it wasn’t that he was expected to be a protector or his mother or younger siblings assigned him that role - he’s just… like that#he decided very early on that he could Handle It - no matter what It was#because as long as someone could handle it they could all be okay#it wasn’t that he was expected to step between his mother and his father he just… did#and earlier in the same day he and his dad could have gone out hunting and sat in odd comfortable but not at all friendly or loving silence#but god… he’s been so repressed for so long#he only knows how to be there for others - i don’t think (even for as insightful and confident in himself#because of his years of introspection that he has) that i can properly even put into words#how much this man has mistaken having a restricted section in his library for healing and Moving On#he still has trouble hanging out with his siblings - he still feels guilt - he still feels like he’s been stuck in some strange limbo#of life. he’s very lucky to be where he is and doing what he loves#but some mornings he wakes up and he’s still that fourteen year old boy#whose face aches and ribs hurt and when he comes to… he doesn’t feel any ownership of the space he occupies#he’s just… there.#daniel is the boy who practices a few smiles as he pushes himself to sit in bed because he can hear his baby siblings running down#the hall to let him know breakfast is ready - and he told them yesterday that the broken nose was nothing and the black eye was fine#and giving them that relief will always come before the sick feeling in his stomach and the fear coiling around his neck#i could wax poetic abt this sumbitch for hours omg pls bless you if you read this AT ALL idk if anything i say abt daniel makes sense fjfhf#child abuse tw //#military yt man marries local selvadoradan beauty whose twenty years younger than him - does their eldest son have some#Serious Generational Trauma?? vote now on your phones!!! 📞#dan takin a hit for everyone in the house at one point or another: light work no reaction#dan learning there’s cucumbers in his food: 😰😭😢🤕
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andy-clutterbuck · 2 years
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mummer · 1 year
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barry 4.02 - bestest place on earth (2023) dir. bill hader
mullholland dr. (2001) dir. david lynch
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my mum's staying for the weekend pray for me
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franeridan · 8 months
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I'm so glad there's actually people who are watching opla without ever having watched anything op before but i also really hope if they'll decide to pick up the manga/anime to know how it keeps going they'll start from the beginning cause honestly they cut on some of my favorite exchanges in the whole manga, which is kinda sad
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doctorbrown · 4 months
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Everyone in the X-Men universe has the story of how their powers first awakened/manifested and Doc's would absolutely be something along the lines of because he wasn't allowed to have a pet, he took to feeding one of the friendly stray dogs around Hill Valley when he was a boy and some of the local bullies (probably the Tannen of his generation, lbr) doing as the delinquents of the time did, started going after this dog and without thinking, Emmett is rushing forward to save his little canine friend and just full on stops time, lowkey panics but not enough to stop him from grabbing the dog and bolting as far as he can until the effect wears off, leaving the bullies very confused and extremely freaked out. And so begin the rumours, naturally.
And no, he absolutely cannot tell his parents, especially not his father, but young Emmett knows something is up with him so now it's time to start sneaking off and doing some sneaky scientific experiments to figure out just what the hell that was and how he can do it again/control it.
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moodr1ng · 1 year
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and the most annoying thing abt seeing those nazi leather fetish pics everywhere when you just want to find like.. leather boots or biker gear or whatever. is every time ppl in the comments fail to notice it in a very like.. idk sort of frightening or isolating way? like i just saw a clearly fetish pic of someone in punk gear with antifascist slogans being stepped on by someone wearing leather boots and fatigues. and in the comments someone was like. "omg i have the same fuck nazis patch!". yeah uh. the reason the person w a nazi username uploaded a pic of someone w that patch getting literally stepped on. like literally being under the boot. is not bc they agree w you. seems like buying some premade patch online did not rly do anything for your ability to spot and not encourage nazis huh
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finalgirl420 · 6 months
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So I got my septum pierced but idk if I like it 😭
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orcelito · 8 months
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Thinking about getting a nose piercing. Like a little stud on the side... on the right side. My cartilage piercing is on the left & I plan to wear a lil hoop on it once it's healed enough. And that just might be the only cartilage piercing I want? Bc I have my double lobes and I got only one cartilage piercing bc I like the idea of having just one lil hoop in one ear. Coincidentally on the same side as Vash's hoop, though I chose it long b4 getting into Trigun bc I part my hair to the right lol, which means a cartilage piercing would be more visible on the left.
Anyways I was thinking about it and if I have a side nose piercing on the right of my nose, then an eyebrow piercing on my left eyebrow... balanced with my hair on the right side... I think that'd be my ideal piercing setup tbh, at least for my face.
Could change my mind later, but I am Thinking about it
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nomaishuttle · 11 months
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this is not just me complaining bc its one of my chores but i truly donot think the kitchen needs 2 be mopped twice aweek
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thepaleelf · 2 months
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celebon (2015) vs celebon 2.0 (2024)
i’m remembering why i spent so much time playing inquisition back then lol. there is so much game in this game and i’m having a lot of fun reimagining an old pc
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours
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synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his
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— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)
— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!
— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys
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satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.
“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.
“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”
“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.
“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”
“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.
he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”
“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”
“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”
“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”
“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”
“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.
“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”
“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”
“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.
even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.
“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”
“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.
satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.
he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.
you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.
so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?
and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.
you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.
satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.
he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.
“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”
“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”
“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”
“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.
everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.
because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.
“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”
he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”
“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”
“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”
“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”
“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”
his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.
you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.
“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.
“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.
“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”
“got it,” you nod furiously.
“got what?”
“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”
“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”
“just what?” he raises a brow.
“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.
he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.
your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.
“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”
“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”
“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”
“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”
“say you love me,” he demands.
it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”
and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.
and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.
satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.
“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”
“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”
he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.
it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.
he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.
satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.
when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.
“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”
“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.
“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”
and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.
but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.
it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.
and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.
“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”
“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”
“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”
“how long do you plan on being mine?”
“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”
“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”
“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”
“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”
“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.
“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”
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dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this
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sneefsnorf · 8 months
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private schools love to discriminate against disabled students its their favourite activity. its enrichment for them
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augustinewrites · 8 months
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“oh, you poor thing…” you murmur, stroking megumi’s hair. he’d been caught in the rain during the walk home yesterday, and had come down with a bit of a cold. the seven year old is curled up next to you on the couch, his head resting in your lap.
you glare at satoru when he scoffs from his end of the couch, the tip of his nose rosy and dripping with snot. “i was caught in the rain too, you know.”
“take some nyquil.”
you don’t even bother to spare his suffering a glance.
“can i have hot chocolate?” the little brat asks, his request followed by a weak cough. “my throat hurts.”
it’s almost ten in the evening, and the kid’s already brushed his teeth. there’s no way you’d say yes—
“of course! i’ll make some for your sister too.”
satoru’s mouth falls open - because he can’t breathe through his nose and because he’s shocked. “can i have some too?”
“i’ll make you tea with lemon and ginger,” you reply, carefully adjusting megumi on the couch as you get up. you even steal his blanket, draping it over the kid’s curled up form.
megumi peeks one eye open as soon as you leave, and satoru swears the smirk that follows is directed at him.
people have told him that kids are supposed to be gifts. but later - when he’s watching a lame documentary and choking down some bitter lemon ginger tea as megumi is spoiled with sips of chocolately heaven - he thinks they must mean gifts from hell.
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your lips are brushing over satoru’s collarbone when he wonders if he’d locked the bedroom door.
but then you bite and all his concerns go out the window.
your breath is hot against his skin, picking up when his hands grip your waist. chests rising and falling, the two of you love in sync. slow, deep kisses are exchanged in time with gentle grinds—
“i’m hungry.”
it makes satoru startle, banging his head against the headboard as you sit up, stuttering as you both turn to face the doorway.
“megumi,” you gasp. “how long have you been standing there?”
the blush colouring his cheeks is answer enough.
“i’ll make you something to eat,” you offer, leaving your boyfriend with a very unfortunate situation as you climb off his lap, shooting an apologetic look over your shoulder as you herd megumi out of the room.
satoru swears the kid shoots him a smug grin over his shoulder.
this, he thinks glumly as he heads to the bathroom to try and calm himself down. this is why he needs to stop doing nice things.
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exhausted can’t even begin to describe the way satoru feels after a long day of bugging nanami and exorcising curses.
he’s practically dragging his body through the apartment towards the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to strip out of his uniform and fall into bed next to you.
but he can’t, because the first thing he sees when he opens the bedroom door is megumi hogging his side of the bed.
you press your index finger to your lips as soon as satoru opens his mouth to protest. “tsumiki’s at a sleepover,” you explain.
“so? i’ll carry him back to his room—”
you make a noise if protest, waving his hands away as you whisper, “it’s his first night here without her.”
hands on his hips, satoru examines the very little free space left on the bed. “so that means you’d let me sleep on the couch?”
he doesn’t like sleeping alone. hasn’t liked it ever since you’d moved in and he’d decided he liked waking to the warmth of your body next to his.
“well, you could sleep in megumi’s bed.”
“or you could wake him up,” he counters loudly on purpose, earning a shush and a glare from you in answer.
“this is a good thing,” you insist once you’ve ensured the kid’s still asleep. “it means he trusts us!”
“but i’m tired,” he whines, even stamping his foot a little for emphasis. “i wanna cuddle with you.”
“fine,” you relent with a little sigh. “but you have to wake him.”
gleefully, he goes to shake the kid awake. he’s about to do it, but all it takes is one look at the peaceful look settled over that little face. over the year he’d gotten to know megumi, he’s only ever worn a scowl, or a look of general boredom. so to see him like this, finally settled into the household…
it’s enough to make the sorcerer smile, even as he sets up the makeshift bed of blankets on the bedroom floor.
_____
“sharing is caring,” satoru proposes the next afternoon at the dinner table. it’s just him and megumi right now, as you’d just left to visit shoko. “so you can cuddle with her on the couch, but the bedroom is all me, got it?”
megumi frowns, staring at the list (can he even read yet? gojo has no idea) “but what about movie night?”
“fine, but only for a little bit. after that she’s all mine.”
he takes the kids shrug as agreement and moves on.
“knocking,” he starts with the utmost seriousness. “is a very important thing to do when any door is closed. and next time tsumiki is out, you’re the one sleeping on the floor.”
(they both know that’s not going to happen, but it doesn’t hurt to try.)
once the terms of their deal are finalized, they shake on it.
“so we’ve come to an understanding, good. because i’d rather have you as my bro than my foe,” he says, dragging the edge of his thumbnail across his throat for emphasis.
megumi rolls his eyes before sauntering off to his bedroom, and satoru sighs, letting his forehead hit the tabletop with a dull thud.
he’d fought off suitors vying for your attention before, but never one as tough to beat as this one.
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