#(is that the same course? or two different ones? i have no idea)

[cosmos-kitty]

Do you have any tips for painting with gouache? like how do you get it to stay a nice solid color over a large swath of paper? and how do you blend it so seamlessly?

Of course, here's a few pointers off the top of my head:

1. I've used gouache for this in the past so it's possible, but the flat backdrop on my latest WIP is actually acrylic! A nifty thing I've found about putting a layer of acrylic down, is that it creates a barrier once dried and essentially makes the paper waterproof. This means you can work in gouache on top without it mixing with the background, and you can wet a section and completely wipe it clean with a cloth/tissue and it won't disturb the acrylic layer underneath. It also makes the paper more resilient, and you don't get as much pilling/tearing from the moisture

To get an even wash it's mostly getting the right consistency, I add just a little water - enough that the paint is less "tacky" as you drag your brush along paper, but not so much that it's runny or translucent. It takes a couple of attempts sometimes!

2. Also for the current WIP that I posted earlier, like the vast majority of my traditional pieces, keep in mind that it's mixed media. So I assume you're referring to the blue-green gradient on the bird and wondering how I got the gouache to blend like that - it's actually colouring pencils! I'll often switch between dry and wet media, even layer them back and forth, whatever makes the most sense to get the effect I want 😁

3. On that note, when you're working with paint, or any medium really, I can't recommend enough having a "test" sheet that you do both before and during a traditional piece. It allows you try out different medium combos, see what shade your gouache will dry into, and catch any issues before it ends up on your artwork. I often see artists being encouraged to just Bob Ross their way through a piece, the idea being that you'll just have happy little accidents that you'll naturally work into the piece - maybe, but you'll also possibly irreversibly wreck your hard work and have to start again. I don't know, I'm just a methodical person I guess, but seeing someone just directly apply something to the page when they're not sure what it's going to do makes me wince - no two art supplies are the same! All of those paints and pens have different chemical makeups, there's an unlimited number of ways what you're using could interact, good or bad.

Since it's already there, I usually reuse one of the leftover failsons from the process of making the wash background, then test everything on top of that. That way you can see exactly what shade the paint will dry on top of whatever colour the background is:

Doesn't need to look good, nobody sees it (usually) and you can also test the thickness of your brushstrokes while you're at it.

Anyway, I hope this helps!

[doberbutts]

hello! I'm the one that sent you that ask a week or so ago. Sorry I didn't check to see if you'd answered for a while because I was just so upset and had to take a second. I will say I scrolled through a bunch of helpful posts you reblogged before I even found the ask again that helped a LOT.

Two things I thought you might want to know is that it wasn't speculation that you'd blocked the weirdo blog that sent me your way: they literally have "proudly blocked by doberbutts" in their bio which was why i felt safe coming to you lmao. Second is I guess my struggle with this issue was an overall struggle with how bad wider misogyny has gotten in general and how muddied it's gotten with the "male loneliness crisis" and like, centering men's issues under patriarchy and just how insanely upset it's been making me. Seeing cis MRAs identify with trans men freaked me out because like, yeah it's important to talk about how (cis) men suffer under patriarchy but it's just so rare for me to find men do that without devolving into misogyny, and I start to feel so helpless because I know validating these issues matter but women are being literally dehumanized openly. I do play oppression olympics with this specific issue and just of COURSE women suffer more under patriarchy, but the same men who demand space to air how they suffer won't acknowledge that truth. (sorry for soapboxing; some of them do! It's just...things are so bad for women rn lol it's really hard to have compassion when it feels like none is being given to me).

So the more I see this issue the more I think people are being affected by larger misogyny like I am, but are doing the typical thing that happens where you lash out at a group you can "reach." Policing and harassing trans men's behaviours is way easier than cis men. I've also been seeing some parallels between this discourse and the "gay men vs lesbian women" discourse. It's not really a one-to-one but the discussion of the role of misogyny re homophobia towards gay men who still have male privilege but, come on, if they have feminine affectation it's Different and the back and forth that used to happen when gay men and lesbian women did oppression olympics, it just feels similar.

idk as i type this I hope I don't come across disingenuous or like, my Too Casual Overly Respectful tone is trying to subtly incept you. I worry my vibes are too "women first" but I just can't help it misogyny really is ruining my life 😭. Anyways I'm very grateful for your perspective and your blog. I feel more settled and equipped to push back against anti transmasculine behaviour with rhetoric that can actually challenge people

To respond to each point in turn:

1: Again I still don't really know who that is, though I am somewhat bemused by the idea that someone I clearly don't really remember is still so obsessed with me that they're proud I've blocked them. For the record, my block list is as follows: people who send anonymous hate, people who continue to harass me after I've told them to stop, people I catch with posts containing inexcusable bigotry, obvious trolls, self-identified zoophiles and MAPs, and people who repeatedly send me fundraisers after I have already said I only share fundraisers from people I know and trust. Being on my block list is, um, not really good company, so it's kind of funny to me that someone is proud to be there. Yeah I'm sure they'll fit right in with the neo-nazis and dogfuckers and cyber bullies. Oh and I guess my ex but I only blocked them after they started harassing me about our failed relationship years later. Enjoy block hell I suppose.

2: I'm not really here to play who has it worse, not because I don't recognize the wider understanding of privilege vs oppression but because I think it is a self-defeating thread of thought because you will always find a "more oppressed" example, and I think that people should be allowed to talk about their hurts regardless of their status of "more oppressed" vs "less oppressed". Talking about the ways society has hurt them is not what makes MRAs dangerous. What makes them dangerous is who they blame, how they go about fixing their problem, and the solutions to their problems they come up with.

To be quite frank, the majority of MRAs are men who have experienced some form of social rejection or isolation. Most have been sold some patriarchal lie about how by being men they inherently deserve good sex with hot women on demand, a wife at home to keep barefoot and pregnant, a high paying job where they are respected and valued regardless of the effort they themselves put into it, and all the luxuries that lifestyle can afford. This is a fantasy, you and I both know it. And when these men realize the hard reality that we live in an age of extreme social isolation, that in order to have a partner you need to actually have more personality than a used dishrag and with only half the mess at max, that good sex is about give and take and not just yourself, that these high paying jobs are few and far between with most takers being born into some level of wealth rather than any merit they themselves have earned... they lash out.

It does not at all help things to understand that many of these MRAs are themselves marginalized in some way, but their framework not only doesn't let them see it but also advocates a harsh rejection of anyone who is self-aware enough to realize it. A lot of these guys are undiagnosed, have trauma, and are just as affected by the systems of racism, classism, homo- and trans-phobia, xenophobia, sexism, and ableism as the rest of us.

Quite frankly, I'd rather these dudes see a group of (trans) men fighting for our place in society by joining hands with other activists with more feminist, black-friendly, disabled-friendly, gay- and trans-friendly in an attempt to lift everyone out of the pit rather than continuing to fight over scraps... than to see them continue to blame women and Jews and then go shoot up a school or a mall about it. One of these helps. The other just kills people and excuses rape. There's a lot of value in deradicalizing people by offering them a path to resolving their pain that is perhaps less destructive and more constructive.

This is also why the constant comparison to MRAs annoys me. MRAs kill people in senseless acts of terror and despair because they're upset that they're not having the sex fantasy the patriarchy sold them. Trans men talking about our oppression- regardless of the word we use to express it- are mostly talking amongst ourselves about suicide and rape statistics and sharing ways to get hormones and surgery despite unwilling doctors and insurance companies. We're talking about how our social groups rejected us the moment we came out, or how people use us being men against us in ways that was not happening before we came out or passed. These are not at all equivalent conversations.

3: Again I ask you- I see people using both cis and trans feminist frameworks to hurt other people. Where is your concern for that? I am equally concerned about TERFs as I am about MRAs, as they have driven multiple transgender people and our allies to suicide and even have committed acts of violence against people irl as a result of their ideology. Most TERFs will also be the first ones to tell you that they have been hurt, deeply, by men and that they also are frequently undiagnosed or untreated, traumatized, and affected by the same systems of oppression. Does their existence and their determination to latch onto every feminist conversation including those of people who are staunchly against them then poison all feminism to you? If not, then why make that distinction for trans men and MRAs?

I am black. I am Indigenous. I am transgender. I am gay. I am disabled. I am poor. I suffer. People hurt me. I see every day how bad things are. Do you think I cannot see it, or that my ignorance is the reason for my request for compassion? Perhaps consider that it is rather my knowledge and my lived experience that fuel my call for compassion, instead. I never said it would be easy. But I do think it would make a better world.

4: I do actually agree that it is very similar to the gay man vs lesbian conversation and have said for a while that it's the same queer infighting discussion we've already hashed out for the last 50 or so years, but the target groups just swapped out. It's just butchphobia, it's just biphobia, it's just aphobia, it's just panphobia, it's just nbphobia- it's the same fucking shit over and over and over again. It was shit infighting before and it's shit infighting now. Privilege is a conversation that depends so heavily on context, and the way it has been bastardized by the internet's poor understanding of political frameworks developed by women of color and their allies into cute soundbites and phrases rather than a deep, nuanced knowledge will never fail to annoy me.

Do gay men have privilege over lesbians? As a class, sure, they would have male privilege. But what do we mean by male privilege? The privilege to not worry about being assaulted on the street? To walk home late at night unbothered? To marry who they want, to have the romantic partner they desire, to feel safe within a domestic partnership? You and I both know that doesn't quite match up to the lived experience of gay men worldwide or even here in the "gay paradise" US. How does this interact with other marginalizations? Does a black gay man have privilege over a white lesbian? What happens if he's a drag queen dressed up for an event and she's a butch that passes for cis male? Does that change retroactively if this "gay man" figures out she's actually a transbian 5 years later, and the lesbian is a TERF? I'm not saying this breaks the framework of male privilege- I am saying that sometimes the theory doesn't match the reality, and a nuanced and intersectional understanding is required when talking on an individual scope rather than class politics.

Additionally- as a side note- it is also incredibly annoying to watch people act like privilege = oppressor = dangerous, and oppressed = victim = safe. Privilege, and whether or not you have any, is not a moral indicator nor is it an indicator of the safety of the person you're interacting with. I have privilege over people who cannot walk, because I can. I am not objectively or systemically oppressing people who cannot walk by the use of my legs in my day-to-day life. Oppression is action- if I vote for policies and politicians that removes ramps and safety regulations and provisions to assist wheelchair users? Now I am oppressing people who cannot walk. If I block or move or interfere with the disability aids, if I mock people or assault or harm them, if I dump them out of their mobility aids or break them, that is oppression. The act of climbing the 3 stairs on my front porch to get into my house is a privilege, but the oppression stems from the people who built my house to even have stairs on both exits.

5: lastly to end a very long post, I don't actually think there's any harm in centering yourself when discussing things that objectively affect you, as long as you remember to include others who are affected and let them have their floor to also center themselves when they need to speak up. I am a black trans man. My politics are pretty centered on black feminism. I don't think that is objectively a bad thing. I prefer to let the demographics with similar problems speak for themselves- I would rather my trans fem friends get the mic when they open their mouths, my lesbian friends, my Jewish friends, my latino and asian and arab friends. I don't think there's anything wrong with them centering their own problems and outlooks, as long as they recognize that there's shared space to be had with others who feel similar hurts. I think it's pretty normal to center yourself. I think the difficult thing is knowing when to relinquish the megaphone to someone who's been dying to use it, while you yourself still have so much to say.

[utilitycaster]

something that struck me from some of the really good tags on this post (specifically the "tall kings") one is that most arguments against the gods or for the benefit of Predathos rely on real-world metaphors that just...don't really fit very well, and it might just be that this isn't something for which one can draw a real world metaphor, but might actually have to conceive a world that is fundamentally different than ours. The gods aren't tall kings; "destroying the throne" does not mean a coup. It means their deaths; and yes, to state the obvious a coup against a monarchy frequently involves assassinating the monarch, but it's telling that the language is carefully skirting around that. You cannot destroy the throne or remove the crown or have the gods step down in any peaceful manner; both the Matron and Arch Heart agree this only happens if the threat of Predathos is unleashed.

And Predathos. Setting aside the connotations of assigning the idea of wild deer to sentient beings, the "reintroduction of the natural predator" metaphor collapses on several points. The first is that equating "became deities, who, as the post linked above points out and per general lore, are explicitly not able to run rampant anymore". The second is that Predathos is not a wolf that once lived on Exandria but is just as foreign to the world as the gods themselves. While I reject the metaphor entirely for the initial reasons stated, it is worth keeping in mind that if you do need it as a scaffolding on which to hang foreign concepts, Predathos is less the wolf population and more a family of tigers or cheetahs: just as much an invasive species, with an impact on the environment

I think these are two major issues that need to be addressed in any conversation:

Predathos has been adopted and mythologized by several party members who are actually much more concerned about the titans, who are dead. Killing the gods will not bring back the titans. I feel this metaphor is sort of falling into that same trap; this is not a return of something native to this world.

On some level, while I understand the use of real-world metaphors to comprehend a fantasy world from a lens of familiarity - I do this as well! - I think if we cannot have a discussion that starts with "what if Predathos is in fact the embodiment of a cosmic, unending, merciless hunger that cannot be changed and cannot be swayed and can only be sealed, killed, or given free rein" we cannot have a discussion at all. I think it's necessary to acknowledge we're talking about a game that gives you a space to explore an idea as if it were physical, and which might not be able to be told within the bounds of real-world experience.

This of course also doesn't address the ongoing issue of "whether or not Bells Hells actions towards Predathos and the outcome ends up being in the moral right, the road to get here was structurally unsound and the party did not go in with the intent of doing anything specific whatsoever and indeed faltered for the most part when asked by the main villain what they wanted." Again, I don't care if Bells Hells are heroes or villains or something in between, but they don't seem to be anything or have any shared intention as a group, which I've discussed already here. But if you do want to argue that releasing Predathos could be good, I think it's necessary to have a coherent argument there, and be able to address "what if it's really fucking bad" if we're moving into the realm of the speculative. "What if this change that comes at the end of mass death might be better for the world but I have no proof" is not a very convincing argument. It is, in fact, one of the only ones Bells Hells has made a compelling case against.

[jenosbliss]

pairing. gn!reader x chenle | genre. enemies to lovers | wc. 1.6k | warnings. none | requested. here

Chenle had never been one to dwell on what-ifs.

He lived life with the confidence of someone who always knew the right thing to say, the perfect quip to lighten the mood or deflect attention. That’s what people liked about him—his charm, his humor, his ability to make you feel like the most important person in the room, even if only for a moment.

But with you, it was different.

From the moment you met, there was something about you that knocked him off balance. It wasn’t just your quick wit or the way you always seemed to see through his playful façade. It was the fire in your eyes, the way you met his banter head-on without ever backing down.

He liked you. He’d liked you from the start.

But when he realized you didn’t feel the same, that your heart was already spoken for, he buried those feelings deep. Better to turn his affection into irritation, to let his frustration fuel the constant sparring that had become the foundation of your relationship.

“Chenle’s staring at you again,” Yeri had whispered once, nudging your side during a group study session.

You didn’t even glance up from your notes. “He’s probably plotting my demise.”

“Or,” she teased, ��he’s just obsessed with you.”

You rolled your eyes, dismissing the comment with a wave of your hand. Chenle? Obsessed with you? The idea was laughable.

He’d certainly never shown you anything but aggravation. Every interaction between you was laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled insults. He was the Literature major who mocked your essays, and you were the Toxicology student who criticized his lack of scientific knowledge. It was a game you’d been playing since the first week of university, and neither of you seemed willing to call a truce.

But beneath the barbs and jabs, there was something unspoken, something simmering just beneath the surface.

The shift came after your breakup.

Your ex had been toxic in every sense of the word. Manipulative, controlling, the kind of person who made you doubt your worth even as they claimed to love you. The end had been messy, leaving you raw and guarded.

Chenle knew about it, of course. Everyone in your friend group did. But while the others offered you quiet sympathy or avoided the topic altogether, Chenle treated you the same as always.

Or so it seemed.

The café was loud, filled with the hum of chatter and the clinking of cups. Your group of friends occupied a long table in the corner, half-eaten pastries and abandoned cups of coffee scattered across its surface.

You arrived late, sliding into the seat furthest from Chenle, only for him to notice immediately. “Don’t worry,” he said, raising his coffee cup with a smirk. “I’m not contagious.”

“Shame,” you shot back. “Maybe if you were, people would finally avoid you.”Your friends groaned in unison, half amused, half exasperated.

“Here we go again,” muttered Yeri, shaking her head. “Can you two go one day without trying to kill each other?”

“She started it,” Chenle said defensively, leaning back in his chair. “I’m finishing it,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. His grin widened. “You wish.”

The meeting went on, but the tension between you and Chenle simmered beneath every conversation. At one point, he made a snide comment about your choice of coffee (“Basic, just like your taste in guys”), and you retaliated with a jab about his lack of emotional depth (“Makes sense, considering you’re incapable of forming meaningful connections”).

Your friends had learned to tune you out by now. After a while, the group began to disperse, one by one heading back to their dorms or classes. Soon, it was just you and Chenle left.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you asked, packing up your things. “Why? Am I ruining your day?” he asked, his smirk never wavering. “You ruin everyone’s day,” you snapped.

He chuckled, standing up and leaning on the table between you. “It’s hot when you talk back, you know that?” You froze, your brain short-circuiting for a moment before you glared at him. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Why not? You’re doing it for me.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” you muttered, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Admit it,” he said, following you toward the exit. “You’d miss me if I weren’t around.”

You turned to face him, your annoyance bubbling over. “Not everything is a joke, Chenle.”

“Not everything has to be serious either,” he shot back, his tone sharper now.

“Why do you always do this?” you demanded. “Why do you always push and push until people can’t stand you?” His jaw tightened, the teasing edge in his eyes replaced by something darker. “Maybe I’m not the only one pushing,” he said.

You scoffed, brushing past him. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this.”

“Still not over him?” he asked, his tone cutting as you stopped in your tracks not turning to face him. “None of your business,” you shot back.

“Just saying,” he continued, his smirk unwavering. “Didn’t know you were this pathetic.” The comment stung, but what hurt more was the look in his eyes—like he wanted to take it back but didn’t know how.

You didn’t see the way his hands clenched into fists under the table, or how his smile faltered as you turned away and left.

The tension between you only grew worse after that. Every interaction felt like a battle, each of you throwing verbal punches that landed harder than you intended. Your friends noticed, but no one dared to intervene.

It all came to a head one night at a party. The party was a mistake.

The music was loud, the room packed with people. You’d come with your friends, hoping for a distraction, but the moment you saw Chenle across the room, you knew peace wasn’t in the cards.

He was leaning against the wall, laughing with someone you vaguely recognized. When his gaze landed on you, his smile faltered for a split second before returning, sharper than ever.

You ignored him, heading to the kitchen for a drink. But of course, he followed. “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock concern. “For alcohol, not your company,” you retorted, pouring yourself a drink.

He leaned against the counter, watching you with a smirk. “How’s life post-red flags?” Your grip on the cup tightened. “Toxicology major and still couldn’t see all those red flags?” he pressed, his tone infuriatingly smug.

You turned to him, your eyes blazing as you hissed. “Literature major and still couldn’t write yourself a happy ending?”

The words hung in the air, sharp and cutting.

Chenle’s smirk disappeared, his jaw tightening. “At least I don’t pretend I’m fine when I’m not,” he said, his voice low. Your breath caught, the weight of his words sinking in.

“Go to hell, Chenle,” you said, your voice shaking as you pushed past him.

He caught up with you in the hallway, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he pulled you into an empty room.

“What the hell is your problem?” you demanded, yanking your arm away. “My problem?” he repeated, his voice rising. “You’re the one who keeps acting like you’re untouchable, like nothing can hurt you.”

“Because I don’t have the luxury of falling apart!” you shot back. “Not everyone can just skate through life without consequences.”

“You think I don’t have consequences?” he asked, stepping closer. “You think I don’t feel things?” You laughed bitterly. “Feel what, Chenle? Annoyance? Pride? What could you possibly care about besides yourself?”

“You,” he said, the word exploding out of him like a confession. The room went silent, the air thick with unspoken tension. “What?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“All I want,” he said, his voice shaking with frustration, “is for you to look at me the way you look at them. The way you looked at him.” Your heart raced, his words cutting through every wall you’d built around yourself.

You looked away trying to protect those walls from breaking, nibbling down on your bottom lip as you tried to speak “Chenle—”

“If you bite your lip one more time,” he interrupted, his voice low and dangerous, “I’m going to do it for you.” Your breath caught, the electricity between you crackling like a live wire. “Then do it,” you whispered, the challenge slipping out before you could stop it.

He didn’t hesitate.

Chenle closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, desperate, filled with all the frustration and longing you’d both been too afraid to acknowledge.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as you tangled your fingers in his hair, each of you pouring months of pent-up emotion into the kiss. His touch was soft unlike the way he kissed you — rough.

And when you finally pulled apart, your foreheads pressed together, the air between you felt charged, like the calm after a storm.

“This doesn’t change anything,” you said, your voice trembling. “Maybe not,” he replied, his lips brushing against yours again. “But it’s a start.”

The tension between you didn’t disappear after that night, but it shifted.

Your arguments were just as sharp, your banter just as biting. But there was something different now—an undercurrent of something deeper, something neither of you could put into words.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t want it to go away.

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

[moonlight-tmd]

Hey, sorry if I'm bothering you or anything. But I am curious, like what would happen if Bumblebee is a femme (female), and what are his teammates and crushes reaction to that?

Well, that's interesting.

There could be two takes on that, either she is a femme by forging or some freak incident with the allspark shard happened and turned him genderbend.

In my mind Cybertronians are aliens so they don't really need to represent themselves as male/female. I'd say the population is about 2/3ds of them having binary pronouns and expressions while the rest just does their own thing. Of couse, while this is a fairly common thing, that doesn't mean where aren't bad things like sexism or xenophobia (mostly towards warframes cuz majority are Decepticons).

If you're in a bad part of town, you might stumble into these types of bots. Minibots aren't takes as seriously as a normal civil frame would, but the lower in morale you go you'll find that these shady folks often treat minis as lap pets.

If Bee was a femme by forging she'd have a hard time staying out of trouble considering most mechs tried to harass her over he frame. Even if she wasn't the most femme-looking and curvy it was quite obvious she was in fact a femme. Most often than not mechs would comment on her big chest kibble.

Wasp was one of those mechs, he'd constantly try and grope the fellow mini and try to intimidate her to be his sparkmate ut it never worked. He thought she was playing tough but in reality she just wanted away from this creep. Thankfully Bulkhead turned out to be different; the mech tried to approach her many times and she just thought he wanted to hit her up too. Took a while and a Bulkhead defending her from Wasp to realize he just wanted to befriend her.

In case of crushes, Bee had 3; Longarm from the times of boot camp. Prowl from their times on earth and Blitzwing who she inconveniently found attractive during their battles.

I don't think it would be much different form how Bee would be treated as a mech. I mean, Longarm was essentially a school buddy, they got along well, maybe something blossomed and it only became something serious once on earth.

Prowl is the exact same, he'll treat Bee the same way he'd treat him as a mech. But I can see few folks teasing him about having no sense of personal space when he and Bee are bickering. Who knows, maybe one day after a much heated fight between the two, Prowl will wake up and realize Bee has been on his mind all the time and is not as annoying as he makes himself believe.

Blitzwing- honestly, he'd be smitten the first time he sees her. He's been trying his luck in the Legion but everyone always turns him away, mostly due to his condition. But then he sees this tiny cute femme with sharp glossa and visible enjoyment for odd things and he's all over her. He'll flirt in the middle of the fight and pretend they're dancing and not trying to off one another. He'll bring her flowers and stolen objects he'd think she might like, Bee is so tired of this adorator but at the same time she really enjoys it. The others are just annoyed at his courting.

If Bee was somehow turned femme on Earth it would be pretty funny. I've actually had an idea a while back on this.

They were trying to reach the shard but it was one of the unstable ones; it caused everything around to go haywire and, as one of the weirdest things it did, it transformed various machinery into other things. Like forklifts shifted parts to become ice cream machines spurting oil, that sort of thing. They managed to get it but of course, Bee has been hit in the process. he woke up and only after the others saw him he realized what happened. He was a tad more curvy than his mech self, his subspace was now hanging from his hips and he has door wings. His horns were a bit thinner and longer and his peded gained heel struts much like Prowl had. Even his voice shifted to be on a higher note.

At first he was freaking out but over time he got used to it, maybe even like it. The others were sure surprised and had to adjust but there wasn't much issues. Well, except Optimus who seemed a tad uneasy at the sight whenever they spoke.

I would say Prowl was definitely surprised at the sudden change, more surprised when he caught himself being nicer towards Bee in general. They were working on a way to reverse this back since Bee seemed to want his old look back but overtime Prowl noticed Bee changing his demeanor when speaking on the topic. One time he approached the scout when he was sitting alone on the roof and asked what was wrong. Bee then asked him if how he'd feel if he stayed like this instead of going back to his old self.

Prowl didn't expect that but said that if he wants to stay like this he should do it. Bee confessed he has grown to enjoy being a femme, he was glad the one he cared about the most was supportive of it. Ratchet understood too, he just wished Bee would've told him sooner so he wouldn't have spend a good amount of their resources preparing for the frame upgrading. And so Bee officially became a femme and even switched his pronouns to be she/her. It was a short while before everyone got the hang of it and all was good. Well, except Sentinel who now not only harassed Bee cuz he hated him but also was being a creep. But except for that all was good.

Blitzwing's reaction would be when they are already dating and Bee shows up wearing a blanket, covering it up as him being cold. At some point Blitz accidentally rips the blanket off and sees Bee's frame. He wasn't sure why Bee was so nervous about it, those were great upgrades! Then he heard how he got those "upgrades" and it made sense. He still loved Bee and didn't care one bit about his new look- well, except the door wings, he couldn't get enough of them and knowing all the common sensitive spots for flight frames he had one hell of a fun time watching Bee be all flustered and fluttery when he touched them. When Bee showed up to another meeting with much more confident attitude he knew something was up. Bee told him about the plans to bring back his old look so he was quite surprised to hear that was scrapped and Bee was a she now. Of course he gave her extra loving that night and maybe they discovered a few new things about her anatomy. Blitz certainly enjoyed every bit of his new-old Bee.

Idk is Longarm/Shockwave would care much. Longarm is more on the mech expression, Shockwave has nb vibes with he/him pronouns. He'd support Bee during his journey of coping and discovery and he'd be happy when Bee finds his new self that he's happy with. i'm not really sure what to write here tbh.

And that's it. Hope you liked it!

[wukyma]

Oh you answered my question ♡ thank u, you fed us so much with all this lore !

First of all, the new poseidon illustration is now my new phone wallpaper, omg his pretty big face with the voluptuous hair .

Second of all, pretty please continue even without pictures ! I'm so interested in your Au! (Ur so right about the not-excuses of Odysseus, I would want Vengeance tho after this bad self-centered justification)

Love the poli/peri/emperor friendship, it's not the first time I see this headcanon and it's such a good idea actually (of course SweetBoyPoli is friend with everyone but the impeccable flavor of a friendship between opposites is still very cool/ complementary) !

But but if I can ask for pictures i would die to see 👀 the moment where they conclude the deal ?

(Also the HAND almost ON Polites FACE??? I have stated at that one for definitely too long. Oh god. Please, its kinda make me feral. )

💫Tatooed Polities ?💫 I must see him with the trident tattoo one day... OR even better : eurylochus/ody reaction to it! Because They know him for almost forever now, so the devastating realitie must be so hard on them (having a deal with a strong and violent god such as the earthshaker and all the implications, ohh good Angst!)

Okay, tell me I read that right too, Poli becoming ✨️friend ✨️ with Circe ?? Fuck your brain is big. Gotta think about the events on circe island with your Polities, that change everything for the better. Of course they can't fight so that rule out Ody and the Moly but maybe Hermes's still here anyway ? Like the little mischievous god he is...

So I have to ask, is Poseidon gonna spy on the fleet -especially Poli since he's beefing with him- ? I kinda have this picture of water spirits reporting to the god every steps ? Tell me if I'm in the wrong ~

(I'm SO ready for mockery tho 🧨 )

Honestly I'm really invested here so every choice is good ♡ would appreciate to read more anyway

(Not very good at detective sorry but hoping someone else will find it!)

FIRST OF ALL receive my massive thanks for writing such a detailed comment on my AU!! These guys are very dear to me, and it makes me extremely happy when someone matches my freak has the same vision <33

And you made it your wallpaper?? I'll bawl fr. Sadlyy i didn't really think through the moment where they concluded the deal, but have an interpretation! (Watch as i struggle drawing without any references except my own face)

The tattoo situation is interesting too because its purpose isn't only to seal the deal ;D hoping that I'll be able to show how that works in the next part— and yes, you're right about Circe; I don't care that it's basically a spoiler because they are just besties material 🫶✨️ can definitely promise a glimpse of Hermes!!

I didn't think of Poseidon using spies, but that's kinda adorable and I'll draw it anyway hehe,, something something water winions lore

(The bottom two are both from water but different species/habitats ig? Whatever, I didn't think too much about it)

[ruruvxz]

#05 — Just stop. (Semi-written)

The Woman Who Left Too Soon: Lara Raj, the lead singer and coveted music producer for Katseye, has never felt the need for useless romance. Don't get her wrong — she loves a good chummy romance, but it was never really for her. That could partly be blamed on her past lover, who abruptly left her just to become some indie artist, but then again, the tides change, and so do the people. And what the — she's famous now, she's unstoppable, she can pull anyone, so why the hell is the woman who left her in the dust, pretending to be all buddy-buddy with her.

#masterlist, ‹previous, next>

Lara had always been someone in tune with her own emotions, even when she had conflicting ideals, she managed to keep her composure regardless. This small detail about herself is something many adored about her, the ability to be so mentally sound also regarded her as a reasonable person.

So why now, of all days, was she acting so differently?

The poor desi-girl who usually disregarded phony tabloid tweets, suddenly had such a strong visceral reaction as she scanned the post Daniela had sent. Disgust wasn't even a good enough word to describe how she felt, she found this whole ordeal incredibly amusing, yet despicable how anyone could jump to such a conclusion.

To put it lightly she was not happy, not at the situation, nor the fact Daniela found this, oh so, humorous. And Lara made it very clear whenever she had set boundaries, that they should never be crossed.

Lara found her blood boiling by the second, why can't Daniela just drop this whole ordeal? Why did she have to push her so much, of course, the same argument could be made on Daniela's side, as she found Lara's reactions, just so... unprovoked. I mean, in Daniela's eyes, it's not like Lara ever cared about you, or your music before hand, so why was she so defensive?

The red-head desperately wanted to brush this whole situation under the rug, making it seem like all some coy joke. But no matter how much she joked, her facade was slowly slipping, and as observant as Lara was, her members where also as observant as her.

It also didn't make the situation any better by the fact that Megan, the girl Lara appointed to be the only one to bare the secret, that both you and Lara had extensive history together, was out here airing her out. Megan had only been so lucky though, if she happened to be in the same room as Lara, her phone would've been projectile thrown out the window.

"Fuck Megan, can you shut up." Lara whispered under her breath as her phone blew up with messages. Her irritation growing to a new high as Daniela, truly, had no intention of stopping. Daniela was never the type to stop half-way-through, and Lara knew that better than anyone, and also the fact that Daniela knew how to get under anyone's skin for her own benefit. But that didn't scare away Lara one bit, she wasn't going to out herself because of this, and you know what they say, two big personalities cause too big of a problem.

(And yes, Lara and Megan both knew that this matter had no concern, it's not like the others cared much about each other's love lives that much. But Lara had a fiery attitude when it came to love, since she had so much passion when it comes to her relationships, that the stories she told the girls about you, where mostly exaggerated. So to say that the girl's didn't like you, well didn't like the idea of you, was an understatement, they despised your guts because of all the stories Lara told them. Thank god she never mentioned you by name though.)

Seeing Daniela's response after being scolded by Sophia altered something in Lara's brain, she was about to go off once more, but she decided not to. Going offline for a few hours left her contemplating about what she had said. "Did I go to far?" Lara mumbled under her breath as she stared at the screen of her monitor, mindlessly creating housebeats to take her mind off of things.

Lara felt terrible for everything she said, in some way, she definitely blew this out of proportion, but a girl can only get so defensive. Daniela wasn't completely at fault of course, but she had a reason to be curious, so Lara gave her that.

After a few more moments, her overthinking began to overcome her, she could barely focus on what she was doing, her fingers rested on the knobs of her DJ mixer rotating and fiddling with before her thoughts became too much to bare. She closed her computer and flopped onto her bed, her red hair resting on the pillow as she stared at the blank screen of her phone. Finally after what felt like hours she opened her messages and scrolled all the way to Daniela's contact.

Staring at the past messages, she swallowed hard and began texting.

taglist: @lara4eclipze, @yunjinncentral, @meretmanondefender, @1luvkarina, @kristalag, @artrizzler19, @xochitlisbest, @yuenamoon, @meizinisnumberone, @meganskiendielsbtc, @c-yerim, @vrtualstar, @yeetaberry127 (TAGLIST OPEN)

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 0

Okay so I know the way I framed it makes it seem like I discovered this last second, but uhhh nah I found this months ago during I the making of the Music Video. So let’s tell a little story before I start getting weird with it.

So like. I couldn’t tell you what sent me down this path, but I was looking through a flashdrive with very old files on it, like, two or three whole laptops old. Actually probably only two. Anyway, on this old flashdrive I found a page of sketches from 2020. How do I know it was from 2020? It had villagers from my first island in Animal Crossing New Horizons on it. There was also a really rough looking sketch of what I can only assume was Mukuro and Sayaka. And in the bottom right corner, was this image. What might be the oldest piece of Junkan art I have, period. 

Okay that’s not technically accurate. I mentioned it offhandedly before but the first ever Junkan piece I drew was basically a joke. Because at the time the idea of Junkan being a healthy relationship was just a joke between me and my friends.

Four panels, and the joke is basically “Junko scraps her entire tragedy plan because Mikan’s hot and she wants to bang her.” I could easily find it, and I won’t act like I didn’t consider doing so to put it at the very bottom of this post purely for historical/archival purposes. But I kinda just get irrationally angry looking at it so I think I’m fine just, leaving it behind. And god knows it ain’t getting its own post.

So even if it’s not the true first junkan I ever drew, it’s the first one I drew where I gave a shit. That I can say for sure.

I wish I remembered drawing it though. 

Yeah i just, have no recollection of this. I don’t know why I drew it, what it is, anything. I have theories of course. My strongest one is that I read the first two chapters of Smile, and in my blacked out state of mine I drew this to get something out of my system? But that might not line up with the timeline. But I’ve no way of confirming what caused this to come into existence.

I have another theory unrelated to why it exists but for a certain aspect. I noticed as I was putting this together that Junko's got a Rabbit Clip in her hair (despite also having a bear clip but hey I wasn't exactly memorizing the designs by this point). That either means 2 things. I fucked up and didn't realize Junko doesn't wear the same outfit as disguised mukuro. Oooor, because I was so paranoid, and I'm pretty sure I sent this to at least a few friends at the time if not a slightly more public area (by my standards), I might have drawn it like that so worst case scenario I could write it off as Mukuro in Junko's outfit.

It kinda scared me at first when I looked at this? Like, this just exists and because of the time between now and when I allegedly drew this, there’s just this disconnect. Like, I don’t feel like I made this. I was so different back in 2020, I had less baggage, but also I kinda just felt isolated from a lot of people. I had like, 2 people I talked too pretty consistently, I had acquaintances but it wasn’t till later after my ex that I started actually talking to people more. 

Normally when I look at old art, it’s just that, looking at old art. But that’s because I can remember those pieces usually, this is something so old and obscure it couldn’t even become a memory, it’s uncanny. 

Now that I’ve had it sitting in my files that sense of unease is a lot less prominent. Now I can just look at it as old art like normal. 

I don’t really know what the point of this was? I guess I just wanted to provide one more treat, even if we jumped way down the scale of quality from Day 100. But hey it kind of being like, a relic makes up for it probably? I dunno. So this is the proper end of the project! It’s been nice! Even if I’ll see ya back for Junkan Week, and then way later The Month of Junkan, it definitely won’t feel the exact same. I’m gonna miss these daily posts, but I guess that’s why I’m gonna just have to make even more Junkan to keep it up! Though I don’t know if I’ll ramble as much as I did across these posts. Glad ya’ll liked em though! I always felt worried about being overboard with my commentary but it seems like that was just a bit more baseless paranoia on my part~

Look forward to the coming months! Because I sure am! 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[mitigatedchaos]

Revisiting The Origin

Finished watching Mobile Suit Gundam: The Origin again a bit ago. A few thoughts.

The animation quality is fantastic. It's well-shot, written, and paced. The music is spot-on. The plot is moving. It's amazing.

One aspect that stands out more on this viewing is the way each character is intensely his or herself. Every line of dialogue reveals something about the character's nature, and just about none is wasted. The series gives you reasons to sympathize (if only for a little while) with characters like Degwin or Kycillia even though their actions are power-hungry and cause terrible consequences.

Ghiren Zabi especially stands out - he shows an incredibly fluid ability to manipulate ideology, and actually seems to get more skilled at this over time, yet at the same time he's as slippery as an eel. You can easily see how he could get people to follow him, and also how he can figuratively broadcast on the national mental wavelength.

It's actually less political than I remember. For some reason, I thought that there was more content covering the oppression of Spacenoids, the internal factions within Munzo (which became Zeon), and the formation of ideology. There was actually much less oppression of Spacenoids than I remembered, though there is certainly plenty of rioting and sending tanks to suppress riots.

That said, the series is still highly political. This gets into the whole 'politics in media' thing.

The Origin is a sequence of events leading up to a gigantic space war, proceeding through the early phases of the war until right before the first episode of the original 1979 Mobile Suit Gundam (though with a few tweaks). It's a thrilling story of escapes and intrigue and murder and violence!

However, it all generally feels quite natural. A mobile suit may be an absurd form of military unit, but other than this, everything has its proper weight and momentum. It's a story told with great consideration, by someone observant and experienced.

I originally wrote that last line as a guess based on watching the series. The eye with which the author observes the characters suggests a great deal of life experience, and an understanding of individuals, their nature, and their course of development. In fact, there was an interview of the now 77-year-old author Yoshikazu Yasuhiko, who was on the staff for the 1979 original:

It was over 10 years of hard work, but I could depict the outbreak of the war in the prehistory of 'Gundam' and the absurdity of the elitism advocated by the Principality of Zeon to some extent.

He appears to believe that the idea of newtypes was over-emphasized in later series after 1979, resulting in confusion and support for elitism.

Just watching five minutes of one episode of The Origin was enough to help a concept click in a peace theory I have been working on. I don't mean a related episode. I had left it on pause a week or so before, and when I returned, after a few minutes of watching Char and his comrades, it came to me that I could reapply the tension and officer models that I use for ideology.

The Origin has an interesting contrast with Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn, another incredibly dense series set in the Universal Century, set sixteen years after the war that The Origin shows us the beginning of.

Where in The Origin, newtypes are of relatively little importance, in Unicorn, they take center stage. Where The Origin is a story told by an old man who cherishes people, Unicorn shouts at you as loudly as it can. So loudly that it fills your senses. So loudly that you can finally hear.

Between the two, it's my opinion that Unicorn is more dense. I found myself coming back to watch different scenes repeatedly, pause, and then pace and think deeply about the nature of the world.

I recommend both highly. However, I don't know what it would feel like to see either while having no familiarity with the Universal Century timeline.

There was an argument on Twitter probably a year or so ago. Is fiction valuable? I think that depends on which fiction we're talking about, at what time, for whom, and for what purpose.

[sysig]

If it’s not you, what’s the point! (Patreon)

[thetriangletattoo]

today my nephew asked me what an mp3 reader is I finally understand my elders

[featherymainffins]

Sometimes I think I must be a weird author because everyone keeps making "haha writing the middle part of the story is so hard haha the start and the ending are so easy baba" jokes but I never know how a story will end.

I start and then I write the middle, and then a logical conclusion happens.

[the-irrelevant-trumpeter]

so desperately need to know what the cornley characters were studying at the polytechnic. mischief please tell us.

[you-will-return]

--just a little rant dw

[screampied]

‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.

wc. 7.4k

warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, cunnilingús, squìrting, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.

dbf! masterlist

“who’s he?”

a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.

“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”

“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”

you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”

“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”

“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment and a smile tugged right against his his dimples—and for a moment, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.

that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.

nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.

of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.

apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang, do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.

your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.

you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.

you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes linger into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.

stupid, maybe…

it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.

there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.

you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?

apparently, this guy.

toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.

it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.

to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.

“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.

your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.

the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.

“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…

returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”

you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”

“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”

you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”

“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”

“huh?”

“you heard me, girl.”

the banter…

he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.

you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”

“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”

he was so annoying, entirely so.

it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.

toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.

but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…

to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.

intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.

parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.

speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.

the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.

steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”

your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.

throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.

“hey. is it anymore detergen—”

toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”

you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”

toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”

“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”

“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”

you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”

“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”

this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.

you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.

“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”

“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”

this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.

you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”

“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”

“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”

he simpers. “pretty please.”

“……”

again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.

“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.

“that’s a good girl.”

his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.

desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.

“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”

“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.

he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”

“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”

“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”

and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.

without a doubt, he was a messy eater.

just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.

you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.

he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.

the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.

“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”

“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”

“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.

toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.

he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.

so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.

cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”

“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”

he was so mean.

such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.

“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”

you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.

it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.

your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.

“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”

“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.

he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.

“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”

“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”

“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”

you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”

“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.

while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.

you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.

running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.

“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.

“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”

your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.

“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”

“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”

“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”

“okay honey, if you say so.”

toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”

you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”

“maybe.”

you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.

you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.

toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.

the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”

“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”

“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”

you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.

a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.

“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.

ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.

toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.

“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.

his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.

he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”

“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”

“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”

you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.

you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”

his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.

he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”

you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.

that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.

toji was a patient man, but only for so long.

the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”

toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.

he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.

he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.

slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.

he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.

albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.

momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.

“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”

it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”

“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”

to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.

toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.

he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.

toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.

entirely so, it was still risky.

your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.

like four hours ago . .

he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.

oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.

your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.

you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.

toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.

“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.

your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”

“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.

“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”

toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”

you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”

your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.

it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.

“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.

dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”

“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes closed, damn.”

you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right onto toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.

toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand, you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs part you made such a mess.

again…

it was probably the umpteenth time.

while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.

it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave just now.

“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes looked like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know just who toji fushiguro really was.

maybe that story is ready for another day though.

thankfully you didn’t get caught.

or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.

while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.

a few seconds pass before you father bellows out a pitched, “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”

the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds passes.

“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”

“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”

you mentally facepalm, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”

“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”

[queenpiranhadon]

"The fuck are you doin' up so late, hah?"

"I could say the same to you, Ryo."

The pink haired man in your college dorm rolls his eyes. "I had football practice. You know that. What's your excuse?"

You shrug. "Homework."

He squints at you in annoyance, kicking off his shoes without much care as to where they went, much to your protest. "Didn't you take like a billion AP courses back in high school? Why're you so busy?"

You raise an eyebrow at him. "I still got exams to study for." you yawn, tiredly. "What time is it?"

Sukuna sighs. "12:36."

You blink, your sleep deprived mind trying to wrap itself around that information. "They kept you till midnight?!"

He sighs, discarding his jacket and throwing his sweaty shirt onto his desk chair, joining the accumulating pile of laundry you know you'll have to do later. "We're going against Tokyo tomorrow. Said we needed to work our asses off to beat Satoru Gojo."

You raise your eyebrow. You didn't know much about football, but Sukuna forced you to go to enough games that you had the general idea. "The quarterback? They do realize you're only second to him stats-wise, right? It's very possible you'll beat him. The strongest has a lot of weaknesses too."

Sukuna grins, kissing your head before slipping into the shower.

He's not sure when he fell in love with you. You two were on basically on opposite sides of the spectrum that was college social circles. And then one day he saw you in the library, barely sparing a glance at him and brushing past him to leave.

To be honest, he was kinda shocked. Most girls tended to get extremely flustered or excited when they saw him, and you...you basically didn't give a shit.

But Ryomen Sukuna never encountered rejection - even if indirectly.

He wasn't going to start with you.

Eventually, you started to warm up to him, and you saw a different side to the merciless and arrogant heartthrob that walked through the halls of campus with such confidence it was almost palpable.

The next semester, the two of you became roommates.

Now, where there was you, there was Sukuna. The definition of a power couple, you supplied the brains and he the brawn.

Sukuna never really thought he was one for love, but when he steps out of the shower, finding you slumped over your papers, asleep, he seems to fall in love with you all over again.

You were strong.

Maybe not physically, by the determination and fiery look in your eyes he saw everyday was something he always respected, and eventually, something he fell in love with.

Slipping on a shirt and sweats, he stacks your papers to the best of his ability, before carefully lifting your sleeping form gently. "Damn woman, you're gonna be the death of me...falling asleep on me like this..." he mutters, a soft look in his eyes.

He'd rather die than have anyone see him like this, but you? You were an exception.

And as the brings you close and feels the soft lull of sleep beckoning him closer, he realizes you always would be.

A/N: This might be ooc shhhhhh this was just rlly cute I love him hehehe