Fantasyfreak38 - Whateves I Find

It's the good kind of chaos that hurts in the satisfying way

the current state of my life

shout out to all the kids who aren’t good at what they’re passionate about, and who aren’t passionate about what they’re good at

mentioning of death!!

Satoru always had pity for the old. every time he thought about their frail and weak bones, their saggy skin, silver hair and horrendous hearing skills, he can only feel somewhat compassionate for the unfortunate.

it’s not like he himself will ever go through that, that’s what he told himself. he saw his death being something major, grand, and allowing your time spent living catching up to you is the opposite of that. and in most chances, most sorcerers don’t face their fate like that.

you knew this. ever since you first started dating the man he always reminded you to welcome in the angel with long dark wings knocking on your door with a smile, not a slap. always telling you to not allow the roses thrones prick your finger as you placed them on his grave, because they’ll prick your heart the same way.

it’s hard to digest that. it’s hard to not think about it when you while you cuddle up with your now husband, his head peacefully resting on your chest as your fingers combed through such pure hair. your eyes scanned the way his face was buried right next to your heart, pulses syncing.

quickly though, that acknowledgment flutters away the moment something illuminates in your eyes. the sun that peeked through your bedrooms blinds shimmered directly on a piece of hair that didn’t match the rest. silver. it wasn’t like his normal pure white hair, it was silver.

a smile grew on your face when you started ravaging through his head of hair, only welcomed by more and more strands on that exact colour.

for some reason, it makes you think about how much you have to scream his name for him to finally hear you. it makes you think about how more often he complains about his back, how he forces you to massage him and the room is filled with his giggles when you accidentally tickle him.

oh satoru, how silly he is to assume he’d never see the day your under eyes permanently wrinkle from how much he makes you laugh.

you lean down, leaving a tender kiss on the top of his head only to wake him up. his head sleepily shifts up facing you, his chin resting on your chest only to see your golden smile and eyes slightly watered.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” he slightly shifts, leaving a kiss on your forehead making your smile only grow.

“nothing, go back to sleep silly.”

Clint has three cell phones. One is SHIELD issue and is for SHIELD business only. Most of the apps on it are actually fake and when activated, reveal files about various SHIELD operations and persons of interest - after two passwords and a retinal scan, of course. The second is is personal phone...

coach steven // cry for help

Why do I keep seeing long ass Markiplier hate in the main tags???

 Like I’ve read a few and they’re taking a lot of things way out of context. Some even admit that they had clicked away from the stream before he even had a chance to explain himself, or even got their facts from other fans that were upset about something he said. Like seriously??? Can you get more out of context second-hand info to base everything off of? 

He said he wished he could remove him from the content and still have this community prosper? He goes on to explain that it’s because he doesn’t feel like he deserves the attention, doesn’t deserve to be the ‘product’ that brought us all together. Not because he doesn’t care for us or wants to make videos anymore. 

Him showing a lack of empathy for someone commenting that their child cried after the show from not meeting Mark? He never said he would do a meet and greet, he never once said he was doing anything more than putting on an amazing show for all of us to enjoy because he cares about us and literally wants to say “You’re Welcome.” which is more then he had to do in the first place. Plus do you know how hard it would be to meet even all of the VIP audience members, do his VIP show then be ready to do the rest of the show? It’s insane to think about since the boys already look worked to the bone. It’s not on him that your child was misinformed on what they were getting out of the tour

Which brings to the last thing I’ve seen a few people bring up. “You look sick” I fucking hate this statement, and it’s a million other variations. Everyone I know hates these statements. Hell, I’d wager that there’s not a single person out there who doesn’t get extremely self-conscious and a little bit pissed off by these type of statements. So for him to get a little upset at the fact that he saw this in chat makes perfect sense. You don’t say “You look___” unless its a compliment to someone, even if you’re worried about them, you ask them instead “How are you?” or something along those lines. Mark even explains himself during the stream. 

I’d also like for you all to keep something else in mind. These people doing this whole show in front of thousands of fans every night are introverted people. They get drained from spending too much time around large groups of people. They’re constantly traveling and doing a show a night before being packed into a tiny enclosed space with all of them trapped together until they get to their next destination.  Most likely, THEY’RE ALL TIRED OUT OF THEIR MINDS. And yet they still go up on stage and perform an amazing show for us to enjoy. 

TL,DR Mark is one guy, one humble guy that is trying his hardest to make something great for us. He and his friends are working their asses off to do this show and I don’t doubt they feel dead on their feet after most performances.

 If you leave the fandom and stop watching Mark then I wish you all the luck, no matter the reason, but I’m going to continue to watch my boys and girls as they do amazing things for us. 

Journal 3 shitpost doodle dump part 2! (Part 1 is over here)

To be honest, I don’t think I’m done yet. There’ll probably be a part 3 as well because there’s just so much more I want to poke fun of. This book truly is the gift that keeps on giving.

Qeb yfddbpq jvpqbov fp elt Afmmbo zlria obxa qefp glrokxi xka pqfii qefkh qeb Xrqelo txp x zlli drv.

gerard way + inspirational tweets

curiosity — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, childhood friends to lovers, satoru is painfully aware of his own feelings while reader is not, mention of past girlfriends (and how they all looked like you), handjob (m! receiving), cumming in pants (and in your hand), not proofread, wc: 2k, dividers by @/cafekitsune

synopsis: gojo satoru is your childhood best friend. you’ve been inseparable ever since you were little. spending day and night together, you’d often have sleepovers together — a tradition you both carried on throughout your college years. at least once a week you’d drop by his dorm room and stay the night, or vice versa. but compared to your childhood days, you no longer share one bed. that is, until . . .

a/n: this is a further (and very lousy) elaboration on this post of mine but hey, HAPPY BDAY TO MY ONE AND ONLY

“i think we should try sleeping together”, you suggest one night.

“wah—“, satoru gasps, a teasing glint in his eyes. “didn’t know you felt that way about me”, he smirks.

“just sleeping”, you quickly clarify. “whatever obscene thing you just thought of — it’s not that”, you add, giving him a roll of your eyes.

“you should pick your words more wisely”, he scoffs. “if you go around telling people you want to sleep with them, they will misunderstand”

“ugh”, you huff, “i obviously didn’t mean it like that, and you know it”

“yeah, i do”, he lets out a soft chuckle. he knew exactly what you meant, but still he disguised his wishful thinking behind a teasing remark. “why though? all of a sudden?”

“dunno”, you shrug. “just feeling bad that you always take the floor”

“if that’s the case we can just swap”

“no — i cherish my comfort. come on, we used to do this all the time”, you pout.

indeed you did. but you were kids back then, things were different.

his heartbeat would race and his face would get all hot and red, the heat would fester through his entire body. but when the lights were off it was easy to hide it, the signs that he liked you. after making sure you were fast asleep, he would hold your hand and childishly smile to himself, he would peck it softly, secretly. one time you woke up in the middle of the night and almost caught him but he, startled, kicked you off the bed. yelling at you, lying, how you pushed your finger in his nostril in your sleep… he was so embarrassed, but also relieved you believed what he said was true. his secret was safe.

but now?

when you stand too close to him his body starts acting up in more mature ways. while he is better at controlling his facial expressions now and hiding his nervous heartbeat behind a nonchalant attitude, he struggles with keeping his urges at bay. he’s no longer the boy that blushes while secretly holding your hand; he is a man who craves you.

even when he’s laid on the futon beside the bed you occupy, the sound of your breathing alone gets him hard. you lie there, sleeping innocently, unaware of how much of a pain in the crotch you are being to him. when you leave in the mornings, he climbs onto the bed that is soaked with your scent and shamelessly jerks off. he stands on his knees and sprays his load on the bedsheets. eyes shut close, he pictures you beneath him.

he sighs in defeat. “fine”

“the right side is mine — it’s only natural, because i am always right”, you snicker and quickly pad over to the bed, plopping your body down on the mattress. “sure”, he chuckles and follows after you, sinking himself right next to you.

it is a bit awkward, you must admit. you are laid on your sides facing each other, in silence.

it’s cramped indeed, your knees are brushing against his and the space in the middle separating your bodies from one another is very scarce. but that was to be expected, the beds in the dorm rooms were designed for one person after all.

“so”, you break the silence. “how’s your girlfriend doing?”

“she’s not my girlfriend, anymore”, he states dryly.

“but it’s been barely two weeks since you started dating”

“well, things didn’t work out i guess”

the girls he dated, all of them looked a bit like you. same height, same hair color and length. similar facial features… he never lasted long with any of them though. all of them, visibly bothered by your presence in his life, would too soon ask him to make a choice — either them or you. neither of them aware that he chose to be with them in the first place only because they reminded him of you, and that it was never the question itself that drove him away from them. it was bound to happen, sooner or later. they could never be you.

you hum. “i see”

as you shift to make yourself more comfortable, you feel the shirt he gave you to wear to bed roll up ever so slightly, revealing the bare of your belly. a bit self-conscious now that he’s next to you, you are immediately urged to cover yourself. you slide a hand under the blanket, rummaging around to get a hold of the hem, but oh...

…the back of your hand brushes against something stiff. the friction incurring a low pant from the man, your best friend, next to you.

“fuck”, satoru hisses. his hand clasps around your wrist, pushing it away, but along with the movement his knuckles graze the flesh of your stomach. “fuck”, he curses again.

“satoru”, you say his name, voice hushed and timid but there is a note of underlying curiosity he is way too familiar with.

this is exactly why he was avoiding the one bed scenario — his boners were too hard to hide at this age and this size of him.

“satoru”, you repeat. “are you hard?”

“i wish you didn’t ask the obvious”, he mumbles, embarrassed. warmth washing over his face uncontrollably, just like in the past. but there was a bigger problem now — down in his pants, and the fact he got caught.

“is it because of me?”

“no”, he clicks his tongue, his grip still tight around your wrist, keeping your hand at bay. “it’s because i didn’t jerk off tonight, you know — it’s a natural thing for us men to randomly pop a boner throughout the day”

…which was true. but it was not the case right now.

“can i play with it a little?”, you ask, sneakily twisting your wrist in an attempt to free your hand.

“oi!”, he yelps. “did you hit you head or what?”

“i am curious”, you blurt out. “just a little?”

“stop”, he warns. “it’s weird”

his resolve is hanging by a thread right now, you’re too cunning to tempt him like this. he knows things will get awfully messy between you if he lets you cross this line. but still, he can’t flat out deny you. deep down he wants you to persist, a little bit more… if you ask him one more time, maybe he’ll crumble. surely, he will.

“it’s not”, you reassure. “i won’t jerk you off, i’ll just touch it”, you explain. “please? just a little?”

well. fuck it.

“this is a bad idea”, he says, but loosens his grip around your wrist. “fine”, he mumbles. “but just a little”

you nod, pulling your hand away only to slide it down his body.

you’re not really sure why you were so happy to hear the news about his break-up, but you always felt more at ease when he belonged just to you. your best friend, and not someone else’s boyfriend. you don’t know why you were doing this right now, or why your heart was racing. maybe because it really was weird? or maybe you were just horny?

finding his cock wasn’t difficult, it sure stood out from the rest of his body.

“you really are hard”, you gasp, running your fingers across the bulge in his shorts, dragging out a throaty groan out of him.

“yeah”, he mumbles. “like i said, stop stating the obvious”

“it’s a bit wet here”, ignoring his words, you thumb the spot where his tip is, making him squirm. his body slightly jerks as you press your palm against it. cupping it inside your hand you squeezing it gently. “it’s warm too”, you keep exploring further. “it has a pulse”

satoru lets out a helpless whine. “you sound so dirty right now, it’s weird”

he’s longed for this type of intimacy with you for years. but in his head, he pictured it differently. it was him who was supposed to do things to you, not the other way around. he was supposed to be the confident one, delving into your layers, making you squirm and fall apart under his touch. not the other way around… but this was good too. too good for him to oppose it. you were his weakness, after all. you always have been. no matter how much he teased and picked on you, in the end he always let you do as you pleased. this was not an exception.

you giggle to yourself. “yeah? you like that new side of me, don’t you?”

“…maybe”

sneaking your hand through the front of his shorts and boxers, you feel the flesh of his cock directly. it was twitching, his tip slick with precum. you put the tip of your index finger on his slit and rub circles around it to smear the pre oozing out of it, getting another soft whimper out of him. the head of his cock all slippery now, urging you to rub it all over the rest of his length.

your fingers wrap around his cock as you start to move your hand up and down, slowly, smearing his own slick onto his own flesh.

he tries to swallow the moan stuck in his throat. “you said you were not going to jerk me off, but what now? you’re playing a bit too much, don’t you think?”

satoru can last long. under normal circumstances, that is. but having you — not just his hand, but you, his first ever love, his only love — touch him like that, he could barely hold back. the urge to bust has been there since the moment you put your hand on his cock.

“why? you gonna cum?”, you slip your hand lower, down to the base of his shaft — where his balls are. you caress them tenderly, incurring yet another soft groan from him, before you go back to stroking him again. with each drag you pick up the pace. the room is filled with the squelching sounds caused by your hand, at this point, confidently fisting his slick covered cock, and his heavy breathing. 

“hey”, he puts his hand on your cheek, softly pinching on it with his fingertips. an attempt to make you snap out of it, but alas — you don’t back away. “don’t regret this”, he whispers, almost beggingly. but his voice comes out too shallow for your ears to pick up on.

“are you close?”, you peek at him, watching his face with rapt fascination, grateful that you left the night lamp on.

never have you ever seen him like this. his cheeks so hot and flushed that his pale skin was lit completely red, up to his ears and his neck. beads of sweat across his forehead with strands of his hair stuck on it. mouth agape — huffing and puffing. his brows knitted, desperately. pleadingly. his mouth telling you to stop, yet his face told a different story. so did the part of him inside your palm. it made you throb, down there, and squeeze your thighs together. your own wetness spurting out from your slit, drenching the inside of your underwear”

“fuck—", he growls. “i am— c-close”, he stutters, struggling to control his breathing and the moans that roll out of his mouth.

you feel his cock twitch in your hand, differently. the pulse on it beating faster and more brashly, like it almost made his skin stretch and push against the flesh of your palm. and then, there was a delay. a few, very short seconds in which his cock stood still before violently exploding, pumping out a thick shot of cum. then some more, and more, and more — until the pouring turned into a light dribble toward the end.

“ugh”, he throatily groans, his body relaxing after oozing all the tension out. although slower now, you keep stroking him, running your fingers across his softening cock.

“oh wow”, you gasp, his cum sticky on your skin, drenching the space between your fingers. “what a mess”, you giggle.

“you’re trouble”, he sighs. “is your curiosity satisfied now?”

you nod.

“if you get curious about other things”, he pauses, scratching the back of his head, “come to me. don’t go to other men”

“i’ll think about it”, you smirk.

after that night, you stayed over for an entire week.

this little play time turned into routine, and you were no longer the only one playing.