#ashamed

My string of fucked up luck apparently continues.. 😞 my upstairs neighbors apartment flooded and as u can see it came through my ceiling and went right on my fridge and fucking fried it. So now I gotta wait til Monday for them to give me another one. I stocked up on food with the extra u guys gave me yesterday which I know have to throw away now. A fridge full of food is going to waste .Everything was taken care of yesterday i put extra on the bills , I washed clothes and brought groceries .I only have 10 bucks left. Omg bro wtf why is this shit happening to me. The pantry by me will be open on Monday until then I was wondering if someone could possibly help me with 40 bucks so I can buy outside food for the next two days . I'm so fucking sorry to be asking for the 3rd damn day . I feel sick about this . Omg. I was so happy that finally I could breathe but now I gotta deal with this bullshit. I should've brought more can food instead of meat and other shit that has to be refrigerated. I know y'all tired of me begging but I dead don't have anyone to help me. I hate begging but I just need to eat 2 days then I'll go the pantry and food bank on Monday when they bring me a new fridge. I'm sorry u guys . How much more bad luck can happen to me

Cash app:daniellegrant64

Dark!Scar Gojo x Fem!Reader

mdni, tw

this is crazy as hell, and also probably a surprise to all the people who follow me for arcane content but what can I say. jjk is consuming my fyp and my drafts atm. take the dark content and mdni seriously please. I’d suggest listening to this song to add to the feel of it but honestly ultra violence by Lana could pair well sooo decisions decisions!!

It was morning, you were sure of that. As much as you despised the gratefulness pooling in your stomach, you could not deny it all the same. You were grateful, truly, to know when day came and when night fell. You’d almost forgotten how pretty the birds sounded, chirping and cooing the earth from its slumber without a second to waste. Sunlight spilled past the windows, dripped through the curtains and leaked onto the wooden floorboards, just the slightest touch of yellow reaching the bed. The bed, God the bed. If you hadn’t known any better you’d think you’d never slept in one before with how desperately you clung to the sheets. You were grateful, not stupid, so you were well aware that one night of rest on a mattress wouldn’t auto-reverse the pain your limbs have had to endure the last few we– no, months…maybe? Years would be pushing it, purely pessimistic reasoning. But your sanity was a slippery little thing these days, let alone your sense of time. So really, it wasn’t as far-fetched as you were pitifully making it out to be in your mind. 

He smelled good, like sandalwood and sin. You were trying to enjoy this, even if it was fucked in its own disgusting way. For the first time you got to watch him. Not the other way around. It didn’t give you anymore power, didn’t make you any less of what you were here in this cabin. Beneath him, stripped of humanity and autonomy and all the other things people claim natural inheritance to. Regardless though, you tried your best to keep your breaths low and quiet, movements as still, sleep-like as possible for just a little longer. 

Gojo Satorou. 

That's what he’d told you his name was the night he decided you needed to be here more than anywhere else in the world. His name suited him, at least when he looked like this. With sleep in his body and relaxed features. You’d grown used to seeing him angry, disappointed or whatever emotions captors feel when their captive refuses to be what they desire. Your eyes traced over the scars on his body, the ghost-like hair that laid messy and tousled, the rise and fall of his chest. Even with his eyes shut, you could still picture the blue orbs. For a split second, just for a spilt of it, you wished for him to open them and for that blue to greet you again. But you reminded yourself of your position, reminded yourself that this, limbs tangled over limbs, skin touching skin, was not a blessing. It was merely a bone given to a good dog. 

His good girl, as he preferred to call it. 

It was a fruitless effort but you tried not to be greedy, something else he had no trouble scolding you about. Y’cant be stupid and greedy, girl. Doesn’t work like that, does it? And when you’d respond with your usual roll of profanities, kicking and screaming against the concrete floor of the basement with nothing but resentment in your eyes? Suit yourself, I’ll see you tomorrow. But when you’d give him just a bit of what he wanted? Mumbled to him a worn out ‘m sorry, gojo. Well he was never that kind really, even in the moments it was so obvious your crumbling willpower was fueling him. Mhm, that’s a bit better. But you still gotta learn your lesson. What’d the elders used to say…apologies don’t make up for defiance or something like that. I’ll see you in the morning. Keep that look on your face for me when I come back, kay? 

The bastard. Just the memory alone made you wish to wrap your brittle hands around his throat and squeeze. Squeeze until he felt everything you had to, until his blue eyes burst like a compressed sea, until he had that stupid smirk wiped off his face forever. That was until you remembered that a man with all these scars still stood tall, built of muscle and resilience. Would your hands feel like a threat or a tickle? Likely the ladder, always the ladder. But as he said, greedy. So you trailed your hands up to his throat ever so slightly, simply traced the scars there and fantasized what it’d look like when blade meets skin and flesh meets bone. At least in this instance, you’d have the ability to blame it on something resembling affection. Or maybe just pure curiosity. You knew that's what he secretly not so secretly wished from you. 

A soft hand to hold, a mouth to kiss, company to entertain and a cunt to fill. And you were certain you could be all these things for him, just at the cost of your dignity, at the price of your innate need to live, truly live. It’d probably be easier in all truth. It surely proved itself true last night. It started when you simply couldn’t do it anymore. All the thrashing was rubbing your ankles raw, all the fighting was wearing you down to the bone. The basement was dark, stuffy and humid. And while it used to smell like old wood, day by day it was starting to reek of your imminent death. Whether by flesh or spirit. And your knees ached, as did your belly from all the small servings of bread and water. Your body growing dirtier and more unrecognizable from the lack of proper care. To think, you played the role of good girl for an entire seven days, no talkbacks, all thank you’s, and a boiling pot of submissive determination. 

If he’d given you less food then the day before? Thank you, Satorou. If he came down to complain about his day and ask you about yours? I’ve been okay, ‘m sorry the elders are giving you such a hard time. If he leaned in to kiss you, even after insulting the state of your matted hair? A gleeful kiss given in return. If he asked you if you missed home, if you were done being stubborn and forgetful? …This is my home. 

To fucking think, you abandoned yourself for an entire week just to have this. Just to feel the warmth of the sun from the window, the touch of another human being, a warm meal. It was shameful, disgusting. And yet you’d be the worst liar you knew if you said it wasn’t worth it. You’d be a traitor to the truth if you murmured that you felt nothing but regret when he whisked you from the cold basement, unlocked the metal chains and carried you bridal style upstairs to the warm bath waiting for you. Even if you didn’t regret it, you attempted not to enjoy it too much. But it proved difficult since he treated you so delicately, as precious as a flower sprouting in the arctic. And as was said, grateful not stupid so you knew it was a tactic. All a ploy to break you so he could be the one to build you back up, so long as you listened, so long as you appeased. And yet still you melted into the calloused yet gentle hands that washed your hair, succumbed to the palms that cleaned every inch of your body while you sunk into the water, too tired and weak to do so yourself. Don’t enjoy it, don't you dare. This is survival. That's what you kept chanting when he whispered praises in your ear, said how proud he was after you lifted your hip for him to wash your legs, kissed your neck like he hadn’t bitten it a million times before. The sick monster even made your favorite— yeah okay okay, I know it’s basic but I love it. Burgers and fries can’t be beat. What’s yours? What do heirs even eat? Caviar and roasted duck?-- even as you ate the too well made burger and hand cut fries, you hated that he remembered such a small detail from such a horrifying night. It even made you wonder a bit if he only remembered the good parts, the smile on your face while you chatted away on the impromptu date, the colors you praised and the ones you hated. Regretfully, you wished that was true. But that thought quickly went away, all thoughts did when he gave you no room to have any. And it sure as hell didn’t feel like survival when you let him dress you, lotioned your bruised arms and legs with some cream that cost more than it should. It sure as hell didn’t seem like you weren’t enjoying it when he laid you on the bed, spread your thighs apart— I’ll make you feel good, okay baby? Daddy has to make up for all your time spent down there, huh? Even if you needed it for a bit. And fuck did it feel good, better than you imagined. You’d pictured it, who wouldn’t? The man had kidnapped you and stuffed you in some expensive remote cabin, it was only natural to assume there’d come a day where he forced himself on you. Rough with no prep, all possession and no care. But he never did, simply kissed you and trailed that reminiscence of rough along your neck. And when he finally did touch you, it was when you were broken, hips and head nodding to his words while you chased his tongue. Chased that feeling of relief. It felt like heaven, even while he held your thighs effortlessly through all four orgasms. The overstimulation made you dizzy and his tongue made you shamefully want for whatever laid underneath his black sweats but really you just wanted to feel something. Something that wasn’t pain and anger. 

This is survival. That's what you said when he didn’t request anything back, wiped his wet chin and mouth with a lazy grin and pulled you into his chest. 

Watching him now, hands now back to your sides and leg draped over his waist, you wondered where you’d go from here. From what you could tell he had you somewhere deep in the woods. Even despite the gold shine of his illustrious cabin, the thick endless expansion of trees from the windows reminded you it was just as much of a prison as the basement. He’d catch you if you ran, and if he didn’t the wilderness would be next in line. Would he punish you if you slid from the bed, tiptoed to the front door and just fucking tried? Would it go back to before? No. You couldn’t go back. Yes, he’d done this to you. Suffocated you with nothing less than an intoxicating ruffle of his white hair and cold yet amused blue eyed stare. He was evil, you knew that. But you also knew what a warm meal felt like in your belly now, what soft words felt like in your ear and what a skilled tongue could do between your legs. 

But this was wrong. You couldn’t just lay here like a docile animal, a tamed gazelle, doing nothing but succumbing to the jaws of the white haired lion. You had to get up. Do something. Remember who you are. Even if it fails, try. Try. TRY. TR—

A shift. A satisfied hum. 

“ This is nice, hm? Waking up like this with you.”

Fear rippled through your body as subtlety as a mountain hitting the sea, frozen. He knew you were awake, even if you were looking down and away. No point in trying to pretend, so you nodded into his chest. And then, he pulled you up, made it so that he could sink his nose into your neck and breathe it in. You’d caught a glimpse of him, sleepy eyes and predatory smile. If only that date had gone well, if only he wasn’t a fucking psycho. Maybe you’d get to wake up to this every morning with no regret in your stomach about the fact that he looked so damn good. 

His trailed quick pecks from your neck, the spot where his nose was just bundled against, to your ear. You could feel your heartbeat picking up and his hair tickling you didn’t help much. His breath was hot when he whispered, husky and heavy with sleep.

“ I can still taste you. Fucking delicious.”

In the same breath he was squeezing your ass. How his hand managed to trail there without your knowledge? You had no clue but you gripped his bicep at the act, bit your lip to suppress whatever noise was about to betray you and satisfy him. But regardless he seemed that way, satisfied. He was leaving more kisses, everywhere everywhere everywhere. He’d kiss your bruised wrist— ‘t’ll heal soon baby. He maneuvered himself to now be on top of you, thick muscled thighs trapping your weak ones, pulling your un-fighting hands above your head and admiring your scared yet hopeful face— so damn gorgeous. How’d I get a girl like this in my bed? Going as far as to lift his shirt you were wearing, trailing his tongue up your stomach with unashamed eye contact. 

 Don’t enjoy it, don't you dare.

You tried, you really did. As he fondled your breast, “ s-satoru, can we eat break…ngh breakfast now…please?”

He stopped, peered up at you with a stare one could only describe as hell-sent and a smile one could only claim to be heaven made. And he was, wasn't he? From what he told you he was an heir to an incredible fortune, a man of incredible strength and power, the strongest. And how easily you slipped into his car that night all because of a few witty remarks and an angel made face. It was too bad that he spent all that beauty, and wealth to be as cruel as he is now. You weren’t special, or earth shatteringly pretty, or known or rich. You were just a gazelle, his own personal one apparently. And it was just so awful for you, to capture the eyes of a man who didn’t understand what no meant. Whose life had been given on a silver platter and likely by a gold hand, who pointed at whatever he wished for only for someone to shortly retrieve it for him.

He nodded too agreeingly for it to mean what you wished, his eyes quirking in that particular way whenever he was about to say something naughty. 

“ How about…I eat first and then we go downstairs and eat together?” His hand ghosted over your panties, only to quickly come back and slip a finger into the band. 

Survival, yeah. That's what you were doing when you let him take off your underwear, when you gripped at his hair and cried out his name like it was a prayer, even the other one— d-daddy ‘s too mu-muchh , when you kissed him and tasted yourself on his lips. That’s what you were doing when he carried you downstairs and served the both of you toast with eggs and bacon. That's what you were doing when you listened to him ramble on and on about the sorcerers he’d met up with recently and he rubbed your thigh. That's what you were doing when you zoned out and stared at the seven locks on the grand cabin door from the kitchen table.

“ baby?”

You blinked, eyes breaking from the door and back to a pouting Gojo. Ever since you started acting right, all the degrading nicknames turned into ones of endearment. Oddly enough, you felt the other ones suited his lips more. Sounded more like what really rested beneath his skin because everything that glitters truly isn’t gold. 

“ sorry…what’d you say?”

Dramatically he said something about how you should always be giving your husband attention. Husband…that was new. But you stayed quiet anyways and simply listened to whatever nonsense he was just itching to tell you. And after he finished, he kissed your forehead and guided you to the couch, put on some movie that you damn sure weren’t paying any heed to. Only listening distantly to the words of actors and awful sound effects. Your mind constantly trailing to the door, the door, the do–

“ Do you like the movie?”

Right, the movie. 

“ uhm…yeah, I do. Thank you for putting it on satoru.”

He gleamed, as if proud of himself. Pulled you in closer and you almost reveled in the warmth of his chest. Until he kept tugging and tugging. Your arm began to hurt from the tension and soon what seemed like a lovers touch, felt like he was trying to crush your body. With a small whimper, you looked over to him and opened your mouth to say something. And even with his eyes glued to the tv, he shushed you. 

“ This is one of my favorites. So just enjoy it. You keep looking at the door like it’ll disappear from your stare.”

He finally turned towards you, secretly drinking in your frightened expression. 

“ You are never leaving me.”

He squeezed harder and you swore you could hear something pop, could feel the air in your lungs trying to stay complacent with its lack of air. 

“ Be my good girl for me, mkay?”

With no type of resistance, you nodded hastily, ignoring the tears that fell down your face when he finally loosened his grip but didn’t let go. But he didn’t ignore them, instead with an alien caress the man acknowledged the tears, cooed at you while he wiped at them and even kissed one from your chin. And you shouldn’t have, you really shouldn’t have but your body was more tired than before, your arm was throbbing and he smelled so fucking good. Like a gazelle lets their legs give out, like a prey animal submits to the law of the land and the way of nature, like a damned fool, you sunk into his arms. You hadn’t exactly been a good girl for the rest of the movie, opting to simply sinking further into his created abyss and sobbing silently. 

cw! gojo is pathetic and cries easily when he can’t get things he wants, reader is mean, dom!reader, in front of parents, mommy kink, he was not being obedient so you humiliated and give him a punishment by making him hold his pee, important thing english it’s not my first language so i’m sorry for the wrong grammar and broken english.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Days start with gojo being in your apartment now, all so needy and touch, being on top of you with your arm hugging tightly around him, makes him all happy and nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

you hugged him, tightening your arms around his back while burying your face in his hair. “Baby,” You said softly. “Have you ever held your piss when you were with someone?” You ask in the nicest way you could ever say to him before.

He looked up with confused eyes and hands gripping your shirt tightly. “W-what do you mean?”

“Y’know exactly what I mean, baby,” You directed your hand to grab his hair and pull it so that he would look at you. “You can’t even hold your cum for a minute earlier, guess I should punish you, didn’t I?”

"So much..."

In the school psychologist's office, there's a bunch of these little canvases for whoever wants to make one. Most of them are inspirational quotes and all that shit, but I'm thinking I'm probably gonna keep this.