Oh, okay. I see. You think this has nothing to do with you. You go to your closet and you select out, oh I don’t know, that gaslight gatekeep girlboss meme, for instance, because you’re trying to tell the world that you think modern feminism has been co-opted by corporations. But what you don’t know is that that meme is not from Instagram, it's not from Twitter, it's not from Tiktok, it’s actually from Tumblr. You’re also blithely unaware of the fact that in January 2021, Tumblr user missnumber1111 posted, "today's agenda: gaslight gatekeep and most importantly girlboss." And then I think it was a-m-e-t-h-y-s-t-r-o-s-e, wasn’t it, who reblogged it with an image of the phrase edited over a piece of "Live, Laugh, Love" wall art? And then gaslight gatekeep girlboss showed up in the feeds of eight different Twitter repost accounts. Then it filtered down through Instagram and then trickled on down into some tragic “alt side of Tiktok” where you, no doubt, fished it out of some clearance bin. However, that meme represents millions of notes and countless Tumblr users and so it’s sort of comical how you think that you’ve made a choice that exempts you from Tumblr when, in fact, you’re wearing the meme that was selected for you by the people in this room. From a pile of “stuff.”
nerdjo! who makes a lipstick the same shade as your discontinued fav because he loves you sooooo much! on some nonchalant shit idfk ugh
"Sa-to-ru!"
Drawling out the syllables of his name with beguiled intent, you don't give your boyfriend any warning as you jump straight onto him, landing right in the centre of your target with optimal precision— his very empty lap.
A short 'omph!' sounds from him as you make yourself comfortable on your self-assigned seat, his hands instantly finding your waist to keep you stable. Gojo, for the many years he's observed you, has grown use to you abrupt antics — it's also why he doesn't rebuke you like he once used to.
See, the thing with Gojo is that he's painfully uptight. Always scolding you and trying to be a smartass to every quip you have. Well, he is a smartass, but that's besides the point!
After learning how sensitive you got to his concern that bordered the line of rudeness, he's learnt to keep his mouth shut and enjoy the moment before he ends up inevitably ruining it with a snarky remark. It was a very difficult process, but having you ignore him is surprisingly harder to deal with…
"…What?" His tone is slightly clipped as he returns your enthusiasm with his apathy, gaze narrowed behind his specs, a terrifying sight enough to make a grown man piss himself.
And yet, even under his pointed scrutiny, you don't seem to shy away from him. If he was really bothered by your sudden entrance, he would've said something about it or pushed you off by now, something he has yet to do. Therefore, which leads to your ultimate conclusion, he's very curious to hear what bullshit you have to say now!
"Well, my colleagues," you start, your hands finding home in the tufts of his pale hair, a mess that he let nobody touch casually. But, obviously, it's no surprise that you've somehow managed to bypass this absolute law, just like how you'd managed to wrap him around your finger.
"My colleagues are always calling me a gatekeeper! Can you believe it!? My own friends!" In the midst of your little fit, you don't realise you're tugging hard at his roots.
"Gatekeeper..?" He lets out a low grunt of annoyance, but otherwise remains pliant under your ministrations, only raising a sharp brow as your cue to continue.
"Yep!" You nod solemnly before a huge grin slips out against your will, your pretty shade of lipstick catching the light of the setting sun, a sight that has Gojo's eyes glued onto you. "They're always saying my makeup is flawless! That my base is butter smooth, and that it never creases!"
Gojo hums under his breath, a telling sign he's hanging on to every word you're saying with rapt intrigue as he subconsciously presses you closer to his proximity. "And?"
"And!" You stretch with effort, before jutting your bottom lip out with mock sadness, a movement followed intensely by the man before you. "They always ask what I use, but they never believe me when I say it's you who makes it!"
That's right, there was once a time where you'd come home crying to Satoru. Apparently, your favourite lip shade was announced to be discontinued, and because Satoru has never hated anything more than the sight of your tears, he'd promised to create you something that was near identical — so long as you stopped crying.
And what started off as lipstick eventually grew, Satoru was wordlessly began creating all sorts of cosmetic products. You didn't even have to ask, he was always multiple steps ahead of you! Your online shopping carts of products you wanted to try saved on his notes, for him to later create at the lab he was always holed up in.
"What does that matter?" Huffing, he presses his nose into your collarbone, inhaling the scent of your perfume with quiet reverence.
"They keep making requests for themselves!" You let out a soft whine, throwing your head back with exasperation. God, their shamelessness knew no bounds! It was a miracle you hadn't yet lost your mind. "They say that I'm a bad girlfriend for gatekeeping my good boyfriend's makeup line!"
"…." He cringes as you mimic them, your voice taking on an unusual lilt he's not quite used to.
"Tell me, Satoru…" Your words trail off as you purse your lips in ponder. "And answer me honestly, okay?"
"I'll try…" He mumbles too lowly for you to hear, his eyes shutting with slight fear. If he answered wrong by your standards, you might end up putting him through hell like you did those last few times when his answer was not to your satisfaction.
"Am I a jealous woman?" You ask with complete seriousness.
"…Huh." He blinks, taken aback by your question.
"For wanting to be the only woman receiving your handmade makeup. Does that make me a bad girlfriend?" Your jaw clenches as you think back to your colleagues multiple comments that have slowly began to grate on your nerves.
"No..?" He frowns, brows creased together like he can't comprehend why the hell that would make you a bad girlfriend. "I, I uh- um, I prefer making it for you only…"
"Aw! You're such a good boyfriend!" You giggle, the noise so sweet it has Gojo's pants tighten. "Going along with all my whims!"
"Uh, it doesn't— it doesn't bother me..." He stammers lightly, ears heating up with fluster as his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. "I don't mind…"
His response is so adorable, and the way he can no longer meet your eyes from the shyness that overwhelms him has your heart clench with aggression. You don't have it in you to hold back from your urges, so you do as your heart desires. Smother his unguarded face with a flurry of kisses!
The noise of your lips against his face is unbearably loud, and even when Satoru squirms under your hold, you don't bother stopping. Not when you can clearly feel him get very happy beneath you. You trail a bunch of kisses everywhere, his cheeks, nose, forehead and all over— no place is left untouched under your affections, except for one particular spot.
After a couple more lingering smooches, you hover over his untouched lips, before reluctantly pulling away to admire your little masterpiece. The dazed expression he wears on top of the many kiss marks across the expanse of his skin is unfairly cute, he's quite literally melting into a puddle of putty under your touch, the searing heat of your fingers sending him into a blushing mess of stutters and whines.
"Ah! But y'know," your eyes curve with teasing mischief as you tap your finger against your smudged lips, swiping a bit of the product off with wicked intent. "You're actually a very baaad boyfriend, Satoru."
"Huh," he sighs, glasses crooked on his nose as his eyes grow half lidded with bliss. His confusion is palpable, something you don't see very often from your usually smart-mouthed boyfriend, the sort of sight that has you still and admire for a good moment.
"You've still yet to find a way to make my lipstick transfer proof..." You lean closer towards him, slowly dragging your stained finger across his untouched lips, pulling a soft whimper out of him. "Why is that? Am I to assume you actually like all the kisses I leave on your face?"
"That's not— that's not true…"
@saintly11x here u fucking go damn
a/n: does this count as tsun tsun nerdjo... idkidkdkdkdk
if i think too hard about nikki’s experience in Obsession i feel physically ill. imagine one second you’re just walking up to your house after a night out, and then the next, you’re looking out of your own body, but you’re not longer in control. you’re a prisoner to a terrible, unnatural version of yourself that only exists because of a choice someone else made. when you scream, nobody listens. when you claw your way out for long enough to explain that this isn’t you, nobody listens. when you beg the man who trapped you in this situation to put and end to it, to set your free, he just. doesn’t. listen. and then when you do finally regain control, all your friends are dead, and you are covered in their blood. because of a choice someone else made
the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
"no, he would not be soft to you, he would actually kill you-" dooooon't care, make that man sobbing pathetically on his knees as he begs for you to stay.
izzy806
pixelskylines
jacobvanloon
areudirty
andulkaphoto
ellievsbear
dededos
tangentwithtanner
