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nerdjo’s high maintenance gf is his prettiest distraction !
I. DISTRACTION #1: NO KISSING IN THE LECTURE HALLS !
time: 8:46 am location: Curtis Lecture Hall I (CLH-I)
gojo satoru is typing one handed because his other hand is pressed between your thighs.
not that he minds. 8AM thursday means excel sheets & a cup of hot coffee to keep his bleary eyes open. gojo satoru is trying—trying to focus, but his pretty girl is talking a mile a minute and he’ll be damned if he didn’t reply to your every word.
“it was so hard getting out of bed today, toru,” you pout up at him, chin on his shoulder & gloss sticky on his sleeve. “i told kento to stop by and wake me up on his way to class. can you believe he didn’t?”
“i’m very proud of you for getting out of bed regardless.”
“thank you. it was very hard.”
you sigh against his shoulder. “he’s probably still mad i cussed him out,” you huff, reaching up to twirl the hairs on his nape. “all because i put him on cherry crush and he tried to act like he discovered it first.”
satoru’s eyes are still on his screen, so you squeeze his palm between your thighs to bring him back to you. “he’s so petty, toru.”
“very petty, baby.”
you frown. it’s been exactly thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds since satoru looked at you last. he’s been on this stupid spreadsheet since class started, and it’s really starting to piss you off.
so you block his view.
“look at my fingers, toru,” you breathe, lifting your hand in front of his face. “i was in such a rush i forgot my rings. my hand looks so ugly.”
he lifts his head—just slightly, just enough that he can focus on the screen & not your hand in front of him—& replies without a beat. “looks pretty, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the back of your hand. “so gorgeous.”
oh, that’s enough.
“toru.”
“hm, baby?”
“kiss me.”
gojo satoru chokes on his tongue. he freezes, blue eyes leaving the screen only to dart around the crowded lecture hall in alarm. he lets his eyes drop to you, and perhaps he shouldn’t have, because you’re looking up at him with glossy lips & too-big eyes & lashes that flutter in that way that means trouble. gojo gulps.
“we can’t do that right now, sweetheart,” his voice catches. you’re pouting up at him but satoru only cups your cheek and tries to reason with you. “we’re in public. can you wait for me, angel?”
your brows furrow, lips wobbling into that pout that only spells out gojo’s demise.
“are you ashamed to kiss me in public?” you croak, fake sniffling. “am i that ugly?”
you’re not ugly. you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know it, satoru knows it, & he also knows you’re doing this on purpose. but your eyes are so glossy. your breathing’s all hitched. your shoulders shake like you’re about to sob—
gojo satoru folds under zero pressure.
he cups your face, thumb brushing faux tears off your lashes as he presses his lips to yours. you taste like strawberry candy & something too sweet to have a name. gojo sighs into your mouth. cocks his head. pulls back just to lean in again when your lashes flutter up at him all pretty. he lets his thumb tug your lip and tongue lick your teeth and—
“ahem.”
you both freeze.
in the row in front of you the nanami kento is there, frown on his face & completely unamused. there are pens littered on his desk & his laptop is wide open—is he reading semantic error?
he eyes you both, lips curled in disgust.
“this is not a love nest.”
you & satoru are blinking in disbelief when nanami turns back to his laptop. he slams it shut in embarrassment when he’s met with an inappropriate panel onscreen.
II. DISTRACTION #2: NETWORKING ❌ NOT WORKING ✅
time: 7:14 pm. location: Bergeron Center for Engineering Excellence
⎚-⎚
gojo satoru has five minutes until the most important meeting of his life.
an opportunity to pitch one of his latest projects to some high-class engineering recruiters—lucky him! he’s in a private office with his speech in his hands, and his beautiful girlfriend kicking her feet on the office table.
you’re supposed to be his supportive plus-one. and gojo does feel supported—how could he not when the love of his life is here for him, dressed up like a midsummer dream? but gojo thinks he’d feel even more supported if you weren’t bracketing his thighs & tugging on his tie every time he tries to speak.
“thank you all for coming. i’m honored to have this opportunity—“
“satoruu,” you coo. “i miss you.”
gojo satoru knows better than to sigh. he does it anyway, collapsing into your neck in resignation as he squeezes your hips. you’re pressing a glossy kiss to his jaw. “i’m right here, sweetheart,” he mumbles, closing his eyes. “will you let me focus?”
you nod sweetly, squeaking a little when he presses a kiss to your neck in thanks.
“thank you all for coming. i’m honored to have this opportunity to present—“
“satoruu,”
thirteen words this time. fairs.
“yes, sweetheart.”
“my feet hurt,” you pout, kicking your feet up to show him. for once, you’re not being dramatic. even with your heels on satoru can see the sides of your feet reddening, flushed & slightly swollen against the material. his brows furrow. “how’d this happen, angel…?”
he kneels down to slip your heels off. you pout: “i got new heels so i’d look pretty for your presentation. now my feet hurt and i’ve ruined everything.”
satoru frowns, but you’re still spiraling. lips wobbly, eyes all glossy & nose wrinkled in lament. gojo’s heart goes sticky in his chest. how could you possibly ruin everything when you are everything?
he reaches up to wipe a tear off your cheek. “look at me, baby,” he murmurs, other hand rubbing circles on your ankles. he looks devastating like this—hair messy, tie loose from all your tugging & knees on the floor for you even though he’s in his finest dress pants. “you didn’t ruin anything, okay baby? look.”
he slips off your heels, then his own leather shoes, & laces them onto your bare feet. “wear these.”
you blink as he lifts you off the table, kneeling back down to adjust the shoes better. you wiggle your toes. your feet don’t even reach the middle, and you almost fall trying to walk two steps, but the gesture alone has you beaming. you turn to him with your lips bent in a clumsy smile.
“they’re huge, toru,” you giggle, twirling around in the office. satoru only smiles. his heart goes sticky in his throat. he pulls you into a soft kiss because trying to speak might make his chest hurt.
knock knock.
one of satoru’s classmates—nerd #1—peeks his head in, expression slightly terrified. “uh, gojo? they’re ready for you in the boardroom,” he gulps. “you’re up.”
satoru nods, gathers his speech papers. you’re practicing walking around in his shoes now, arms stretched out to help you balance as you waddle around with a grin on your face. gojo satoru looks down at his feet. they’re in nothing but a pair of socks.
right.
he sucks in a breath, then turns to kiss your forehead. “stay here where it’s warm, okay?”
you’re still entranced by his shoes, but you chirp out an okay! regardless. satoru bites his lip. it’s showtime.
——
the faculty is looking at satoru like he’s grown two heads.
have they never seen a shoeless man before? how rude. he’s standing on the boardroom’s stage now, clipboard in hand, projector lighting up the board behind him. some of the recruiters are nodding. the others are trying not to look at his feet so they can’t be accused of classism. gojo satoru is not even poor. a glance at his suit should tell you that.
but gojo doesn’t care. he presents without issue—even though the entire time, his mind is on you.
the boardroom door has a center made of glass. through the pane, satoru can see you back in the office—you’ve somehow found music controls for the office’s boombox, and you’re dancing—oh god, you’re dancing—twirling around with a clumsy smile & laughing when you stumble in his much larger shoes.
satoru’s heart swells. his lip twitches.
gojo turns his focus back to his presentation. he’ll work hard to keep you smiling for the rest of your life.
III. DISTRACTION #3 : WHY IS MY GIRLFRIEND IMMUNE TO TUTORING…
time: 6:14 PM location: The Quad, Satoru’s Apartment.
⎚-⎚
“who discovered america ?”
“Martin Luther King.”
You are going to fail this exam.
“that’s enough general history today,” gojo mutters, voice croaking in alarm when you give your answer. you’re tucked in his lap, fingers curled in his collar, nose in his neck & completely unbothered. your perfume is sticky in his lungs. “let’s try math. you like math, baby?”
“mhm,” you kiss his jaw. “love it.”
no you don’t. gojo flips open a book with one hand, the other rubbing circles on your thigh. “let’s practice some integration…” he scans the page for questions while you twirl the hairs on his nape. “okay, this one. can you try this for me, princess?”
your lips tug into a bored frown. “okay,” you lean up to glance at the page, “done.”
he blinks, “done?”
“yes,” you flop back against him, soft & pretty & tired & his. “i solved it in my head.”
satoru bites his lip, brows knit in concern. “baby, you can’t solve integrals in your head.”
“i have a very strong brain.”
satoru prays for some strength of his own. okay—okay. he purses his lip. “so strong, baby. do you want to walk me through your process?”
you frown in his neck.
“first of all,” you tug his collar, lashes fluttering, “i looked at the numbers.”
“good job.”
“then,” you tug his earlobe, “i got bored.”
“oh.”
satoru sighs—of course you did. he purses his lip, blue eyes flitting across the page as his spoiled pretty angel hugs his neck; dreary and tired and ‘bored’ in his lap. finals are coming up and things are not looking good for you. he prays for strength (again).
you seem to have found some strength of your own. gojo’s not sure when you pick up your phone (which he had confiscated from you earlier), but while he stares into the distance and laments your guaranteed failure, you scroll through your phone with a grin on your lips.
“toru, look at this bag,” you coo, pushing the bright screen to his face. “it’s so pink and pretty, just like me.”
“just like you,” he repeats, still staring into the distance.
“wow, nine-hundred-and-fifty dollars,” you kick your feet in his lap. “baby, can i buy it?” you coo, voice sweet.
satoru blinks out of his daze. he glances at the phone screen—then at you, suddenly sweet & bright & brimming with energy. his thumb brushes your inner thigh. “baby, you’re supposed to be studying.”
“i am studying,” you frown, and gojo wants to kiss it off again. “i’m studying consumer behavior. can i have your card?”
there are three reasons gojo satoru should not give you his card.
you are going to fail your exams.
you haven’t double-checked if the price is in CAD or USD.
you are going to fail your exams.
gojo lets you have his card.
you squeal, hopping off his lap to retrieve his wallet in the other room. satoru leans back against his desk chair. in front of him, his desk is a mess of opened books & littered pencils, a ‘get good grades!’ subliminal playing on your mini speaker because you insisted the whispered affirmations would guarantee your success. gojo sighs.
“thank you, toru!” you sing as you pad back into the room, a skip in your step. you lean down to kiss his cheek & flop onto his bed to open his laptop. you have his wallet in your hands, and gojo satoru already knows you will not double check the currency.
gojo closes your textbook with a sigh. better luck next time.
ac: (see alt text!) @ to00fu
DISTRACTIONS, end.
HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.
Once again, you can be an English major. a seasoned journalist. an established author. a famed literary critic...and you will still scratch your head over the junk that makes it big. Public opinion has no worth. Just write what you want.
"But I don't want to share something that isn't perfect" why not? everyone else does.
When I was training to be a battered women’s advocate, my supervisor said something that really blew my mind:
“You can always assume one thing about your clients; and that is that they are doing their best. Always assume everyone is doing their best. And if they’re having a day where their best just isn’t that great, or their best doesn’t look like your best, you have to be okay with that.”
Any now whenever anyone in my life, either a friend or a client, frustrates me, disappoints me, or pisses me off, I just tell myself They are doing their best. Their best isn’t that great today, but I have days where my best isn’t that great either.
Op I’d like to thank you for sharing this. Ever since the first time I’ve read it I’ve held it in my mind and it really has helped me to be kinder to others and to myself.
There’s a pretty famous Tweet that goes around from someone’s therapist, who told her “You can’t do your best all the time. If you did, it would be your normal.”
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ask and ye shall receive:
When I write in Japanese I usually also throw it in google translate to double check that I'm not using the wrong kanji by mistake, and two years ago it gave me very dry and literal translations.
I was doing it today and noticed it had a pretty strong voice added to the output
For reference, to give a dry translation I would put:
Lately I'm into in Hanafuda. Nobody seems to know anything about it here, so they probably wouldn't understand my brilliant jokes. I guess you guys will never be able to understand "Mister November and the Scary Cave".
I have a fluent friend who is able to check my work for me and give me tips on hitting the correct tone (I was going for a comically casual feeling), so I'm confident that I'm expressing the feeling I'm intending. While Google is also hitting the same emotion, I really don't like knowing that it's assigning tone in the first place.
To check if it was editorializing based on informal grammatical choices, I formal'd up the writing to be more polite and remove any non-standard vocabulary.
I'm just like... what is anyone who is translating what I'm thinking into their own language going to think when a translation app decides that it knows my intended tone? When online communication is already so complicated and nuanced? I'm a non-native so I'm spending ages agonizing over 117 characters, but when I'm chatting in English I'm not being so deliberate. How likely is it that tools that 'naturalize' are going to make choices that don't reflect reality and lead to insulting misunderstandings?
I spoke with an English learner just yesterday who thought they were being bullied (they were not, the commenter in question was just excitedly infodumping about sociology) because something was lost in translation, and I wonder if it's because of tools making choices like this.
I'm just a luddite I don't trust stuff like this. stinks of ai asking me if it can rerwrite my email in a more quirky style.
if you work in a creative field...or if you do creative hobbies like writing or drawing...you need to make friends with people who don't do those things. you need to befriend normie Steve who has never written a story in his life. and this is because when you are in a creative job or hobby and spend all your time doing that thing, surrounded by very capable people, who you inevitably compare your own progress and skills to, you forget what the baseline human skill at that thing is. and it's usually zero. normie Steve has not written a story since the 3rd grade when his teacher made him do it. he's very good at other things that are not storytelling - but if you tell normie Steve that you wrote a full 300-page book from start to finish, he will think you're some kind of savant. he does not know ANYONE else who has done this. you need this perspective. because when you're constantly on Let's Write Stories dot Com then everyone on Let's Write Stories dot Com will inevitably be like "oh of course everyone on earth has written a book or several at this point!" and you canNOT let yourself think that. that is not even close to the average human experience. you are in a bubble. do not put yourself down. do not give up.
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after carrying your son around in your stomach for 9 months, and pushing through 8 hours of intense labour, you are now staring down at your beautiful baby boy with tired eyes.
he is beautiful, but he looks exactly like his father.
you huff. "he looks exactly like you"
"don't sound too excited" sukuna jokes, smoothing over yujis scarce pink hair.
you inspect the baby further, peering at his pink hair, the exact same shade as his daddy's, as well as the same skin tone and his little mouth laying perfectly flat along his face while he sleeps. your eyes follow his chubby arms and fingers and belly, baby fat almost promising that he will get as big and strong as his dad.
then you look up to his father, kuna's face resting in the same serious line while you watch him watching yuji. you reach up and cup sukuna's cheek. when his gaze meets yours you take in the details of his pretty eyes, his tattoos, and his markings below his eyes.
you snap your head back to yuji.
"kuna he even has your little markings" you whine, "he looks nothing like me... i pushed out your fatass baby and carried him for 9 months the least he could do is look a little like me.." you continued on.
sukuna holds back a laugh and smooths over your hair, "the next one will look exactly like you.. maybe a pretty little girl."
you grumble a little more but inevitably settle down and lay back onto the pillow. with yuji in your arms, and sukuna leaning over you both, carressing yujis face, you all sit there for a while.
yuji babbles a little in his sleep and cracks a little smile. "he must be dreaming" you softly mumble with a smile.
sukuna looks back and forth between you too. "he has your smile"
if you weren't so tired, you would've jumped for joy. "really?" you tuck yourself against sukunas chest, nuzzling him slightly.
today i redesigned my old character development graphs to make them a lot more accessible and easy to use! i've always wanted a visual resource to build the general outlines of a character's personality, so i tried to create some templates that could be used for tons of different scenarios, no matter what kind of universe your character exists in! these can be filled out in ms paint, with a multiply layer or however you choose - feel free to use and repost them for your ocs, or even use them for canon characters!!!
(edit: imgur link with hi-res images for cleaner editing <3)
below the cut is an example of how they can be used!
has anyone noticed that after the porn ban of 2018 tumblr was essentially killed from the mainstream and everyone flocked to other social media sites like twitter and meta. then those sites got enshittified to where twitter became Nazi Central and meta sites had an entire meme around getting “zucced” aka mark zuckerberg himself would ban you for saying a no-no word like fuck. and then the mainstream shifted to tiktok where infamous toddlerspeak sentences like “he got unalived by a pew pew” were born because if you once again say a no-no word like kill or gun or any other word that isn’t corporate i mean kid friendly then the algorithm will bury your post into the ground. and somehow we’ve come full circle and tumblr is now the most bearable social media site because although we can’t have female presenting nipples we can at least talk to each other like adults. has anyone noticed that at all or is it just me and the flaming skull
higuruma hiromi hasn’t been stressed in a suspicious minute. he’s been more calm, poised, and factual as of recently. he seems… visually happier.
he’s applied for six months worth of paid leave already— that’s almost two hundred days he’s been racking up. some firm members speculate a getaway trip. others are betting that he’s being wed.
nobody truly knows why he’s planning on being absent for six months, but you certainly do. the reason being the little fury growing in your belly.
hiromi has made it his personal duty to discreetly accommodate your every need— including your heightened sex-drive. your libido has increased dramatically, resulting in you pawing at hiromi’s body every other hour because you want him to stuff you full with his cock.
that’s why you’re nestled in his lap, pussy wrapped neatly around his hard-on. your skirt is bunched around your hips, button-up top slightly undone, and belly bump creating a slight gap between your bodies. hiromi feels you squirm uneasily against his body and he squeezes your thigh in reassurance.
“stay still, sweetheart.” he whispers, hand moving up to stroke your back while he fills out documents. “you don’t want me to mess up and lose another case, right?” hiromi’s thankful you can’t see his face right now. gritted teeth, temples pulsing, and eyes narrowing in an attempt to stay focused.
“n-no, sir—“ you breathe shakily. your head’s tucked in the crook of his neck to avoid the embarrassment of your overly needy body. “i just want you to m-move…”
your body aches for action from hiromi’s cock. it’s simply shoved in your needy cunt, veins firm against your g-spot.
hiromi sighs and continues to draw mindless patterns on your much smaller frame. “but what about our little baby, honey?” he knows how to push you buttons— you can’t bear hurting such an innocent little thing. “you don’t want to hurt them, do you?”
“won’t hurt them… just be gentle—“ you muster weakly. you let out a small gasp when hiromi delivers a small flick to your perky clit. “higuuu, please— i’ll die without your cock..!” that does it.
hiromi drops his pen and makes you face him. there’s a ravenous look across his face, a product of all his built-up lust. he’s careful of the little bump when he splays his hand across your tummy. you hold onto his shoulders when he slightly lifts you and slams you down mercilessly on his cock.
you’re bouncing up and down his dick, faint breaths of ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips. "hiromiiii...!" you moan into the spacious office room. the sinful sounds of skin against skin accompany your sweet sounds, something hiromi delights in.
god, you're the most perfect little thing.
needy, pliant, obedient, and carrying his baby. hiromi halts his actions and runs his thumb against your protruding stomach. you let out a needy whine which causes his cock to twitch against your tight, warm walls.
"tell the little one to buckle up." hiromi says, grounding your hips on his lap.
"mommy and daddy are a little... restless right now."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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teaching spoilt brat satoru manners and it's just relentlessly teasing him with your soaked folds gliding over his cock, purposely letting his tip catch on your entrance, working whines out of him until he stutters a sweet little "p-please... just put it in already. need to be inside you so bad, please."
and when you finally give it to him, moans mingling, his mouth falling open, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your walls hugging him, you stay seated on him. unmoving.
"now, say 'thank you'," you whisper in his ear and he groans, head tipping back.
"t-thank you. oh, god, thankyouthankyouthankyou," it spills from his lips like a prayer.
this may be my age showing but I am a passionate supporter of wires. earbuds? put a leash on those things. wireless keyboard? no, it needs to hold hands with the computer. the ps5 controller I forgot to charge has the staying power of a wealthy nonagenarian with a much younger wife and 14 life insurance policies, but the controller plugged into my pc? that baby will outlive my bloodline. my ethernet cable is like a son to me.
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