#and also some very questionable plot stuff in the last bit

[bereft-of-frogs]

my thoughts on saltburn are it’s as if the secret history really, really wanted to be provocative

I mean really, really wanted to be provocative. And not much else?

There were definitely a couple good sequences (there was a stretch when the ‘accidents’ started happening that was really interesting) but it didn’t seem to want to actually do anything other than have a few scenes so that people could go on tiktok and be like ‘omg did you SEE the bathtub scene?’

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

Hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.

ᰔ pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)

ᰔ summary. when underground boxer gojo satoru becomes a little strapped for cash, he gets a day job as a babysitter for a five-year-old kid named yuuji who most definitely has adhd (but that’s besides the point). the kid’s mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: don’t accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. he’s pretty sure he’s got a good hold on the former, but he’s got no self control over the latter.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (reader’s 22 & gojo’s 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except there’s a lil bit of lore so it’s kinda porn w plot, uhh having sex with risk of getting caught, gojo beats people up at night & then plays father figure to a 5 y/o during the day, mentions of violence/alcohol/drugs/blood/cigarettes

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

a/n. hiiii friends jeez it feels like FOREVER since i've posted some good ol' smut (still has plot tho xd)...hopefully you enjoy n see ya at the bottom! lmk if i missed any warnings! if you asked to be tagged but didn’t get tagged it’s bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldn’t tag them i’m sorry!!

alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :”) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! 💕 ART CREDITS: @/3-aem

➸ masterlist

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): heyy um i’m sorry if this comes off kinda rude i just am kinda bad with this but i was wondering if you could text my mom for questions about yuuji’s care instead of me?

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesn’t know much ab how to take care of him bc i was the one that took care of him for a while but i just really want to separate myself from that guardian role now that i’ve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think it’s not my place anymore. i just wanna be big sis now haha

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: I get it. Sorry if I was making you uncomfortable with my texts

2:48pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. it’s just i’m kind of busy n stuff so it can be distracting 

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

2:52pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

2:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird things… i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

2:56pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah he was always “accidentally sexting me” n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah

2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll go beat him up

2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i’m not saying you’re like him tho i just think maybe less texting unless its an emergency okay?

3:00pm Gojo Satoru: Are you sure because I will totally go beat him up for you

3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): also no offense but you dont look like you could beat someone up

3:01pm Gojo Satoru: WHAT 3:02pm Gojo Satoru: Tf you mean “no offense” that’s literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy

3:04pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the ‘ohhh i wanna look good for instagram’ way and not like real man muscles yknow

3:06pm Gojo Satoru: Ok princess next time you visit home and go on one of your stupidly large grocery hauls I’ll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourself 

3:06pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE

3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? I’m not sensing any emergencies here

3:11pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(

3:16pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll let the kiddo know you say hi 👋🏼 

The irony of it all was that, if Gojo really wanted to, he absolutely could beat the shit out of someone. And he has, hundreds of times, pseudo professionally. Although that isn’t something he’d admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that she’s entrusted her five-year-old son’s life to the hands of an underground boxer. 

But he needed the money. A night-time job didn’t really make daytime money, not when they could easily replace him with the next dude the second he gets knocked out of the ring more than twice, let alone if he let it happen once. And although he sometimes made large sums, it wasn’t stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was. 

The babysitter working nights at unsanctioned dojos and gyms located in the back of cartel blocks, knocking teeth out of men twice his size, would put any decent mother into a coma or induce some episode of syncope, hence why it wasn’t something he put on his resume before he got hired. Not that he even needed to provide a resume; your mom seemed desperate to cover the position as fast as possible, that promotion at work was moving faster than she wanted to, and Gojo’s beneficial attribute that he possessed as a candidate to look after her son, compared to all the other potential hires, was that he had a penis.

He likes the kid. Yuuji. He’s got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like he’s geriatric, he’s really only the ripe old age of twenty-seven, but the immortality and infinite stamina that a five-year-old boy has on him is enough to have him huffing and puffing at the end of every single evening shift he takes on with the rascal. 

Fighting is all sprint, and no stamina. Sure, there might be some more seasoned boxers that might disagree with him, but for someone as young as him in the field, it’s the tactic he’s been forced to gain. If he draws a fight on for too long, he'll get killed by a forty-two year old man with steroids clogging up his adipose tissue and enough  testosterone to grow a full-body beard by the time the sun starts to set. No, his strategy is to knock them out within the first fifteen seconds. Use their weight against them, and whatnot. A tactic he’s found has worked, since he’s been undefeated thus far. 

He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings who’ve gained millions the night before from selling crystal meth only to lose it all the night following in the second Gojo hooklines a solid punch to their betting boxer’s chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if they’re even able).

He doesn’t pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but it’s a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.

It’s not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep they’ve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasn’t doing all of this to feel some sense of work-life pride, no, it was just sustenance. When basic needs are not met, humans resort to the most animalistic of all behaviors, and while he’s not proud of what he does, he can’t deny the fact that it’s turned him into an adrenaline junkie that gets a rush in his veins every time he knocks a jaw loose.

But balance was key. And hence why he’s a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend he’s the king’s most trusted appointed knight, or he’s the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe he’s the evil power ranger (he always forgets which color that one was) that is determined to make the world a living hell by smashing mr. potatohead against the bunk bed post a billion times for all the other toys to see. Or whatever other imaginative hyperfixations Yuuji imposes on him in the later afternoon once he’s had his bowl of spaghetti-O’s and is ready to play. Lately, the kid’s been really into space. They’ve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojo’s day, he just had a good ol’ Buzz Lightyear.

“One rule, that’s it: don’t accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Don’t flirt with my daughter.” 

There’s a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows he’s up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didn’t read the slight swell to his eye and the healing gash across his cheek as anything other than this boy is trouble and I want him nowhere near my too-good-for-him daughter of reproductive capacity since that’s the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like he’s up to no good? He’s not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuuji’s life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ……right?

The first night he met you, it was awkward to say the least. Gojo spends most of his nights performing deadly stunts for middle aged men with potbellies, and most of his days hanging out with a five-year-old (one who he’d argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, he’s got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyone’s in college now or doing a masters or they’re working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that he’s been working in insurance for the past two years. Listen, in fairness, he probably makes the same amount of money as an insurance broker would anyways, but he can’t exactly own up to the identity of his craft. 

Anyways, the point is, he’s not used to seeing other people his age anymore. There’s the occasional hook-up with girls he hasn’t seen since Mrs. Tracy’s homeroom period back in sweet two-thousand-sixteen, or his twice-a-year hangout with Suguru where he only learns the day of where he's visiting from since the guy moves around more than Gojo can keep up with. But save for that, he mostly just sees your mom and then Yuuji. 

So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuuji’s half-finished GoGurt back in the fridge was startling to say the least. When the sight of a woman startled him, he knew he needed to start getting out again.

You were on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab at something over the fridge, and wearing these ridiculously short shorts to where he could see the curve of your ass, his line of sight trailing down the skin of your bare legs. He couldn’t see anything of your form above your shorts, given you were wearing an extremely baggy t-shirt with NYU on it in big bolded university letters. As far as he knew, you were a senior at NYU, studying psychology, made dean’s list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that she’s proud of her daughter, but doesn’t that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.

“Here,” he said, pressing his front to your back, maybe just to get a feel, as he reached over to you to finally grab the box of cereal you were swatting for, the one that he purposefully placed at the back because Yuuji learned how to climb counters recently. “Is this what you want?”

He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you weren’t expecting some random man to be in the house right now, and your first instinct ended up being to grab the knife out of the kitchen knife block and lunge it straight at his torso.

If it wasn’t for his boxer reflexes, he’d have ended up at the ER that evening. Or dead. All depending on the strength you could pack into a stab. But instead, he deflected it, though not without a gash to his torso through the fabric of his shirt, one that you spent the rest of the evening profusely apologizing for and eventually mending to with cotton balls and neosporin. 

“I didn’t know you were my little brother’s babysitter,” you mumbled with a small wince on your face as you dabbed ointment on the wound while he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his shoulder. He’s never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.

“It’s fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.”

He remembers the curl of your eyelashes while you stared down at his bare upper half, something he imprinted on his memory rather than the concern in your face as your fingertips traced the scars across his chest. He hoped they made you feel better about the one you just slashed into him, because after all, what was one more? 

He knows he shouldn’t have, but he kissed you that night. Two minutes before your mom came home, and right after you bid him goodnight with one more apology, he backed you up against the door of your bedroom, his hands on your hips pulling you towards him, and his lips pressed against yours. Something seamless, from candid conversation that was heading towards an end, to full fledged making out against white-painted wood, his teeth nipping at your lip and he wondered just how touch-starved those university boys were leaving you given the desperate way you’d clinged to his shirt for dear life as he deepened the kiss.

The moment only lasted one minute and fifty-seven seconds, and in the remaining three, your mother’s key pushed into the front door and he had to pull away. Always, on the dot, 10PM, she was home. It was how he knew he had two minutes left to make a move in the first place.

So much for no flirting.

6:57pm Gojo Satoru: Bahahah I accidentally forgot where yuuji’s epipen is 6:58pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 6:59pm Gojo Satoru: Turns out this can-o-soup was just covering it in the cabinet

7:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): ??? why did you need to find his epipen

7:08pm Gojo Satoru: Oh he accidentally took a bite of my pad thai 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: I freaked cuz I thought it had peanuts in it but I remember I asked for it without any  7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shit’s crazy

7:10pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY THE FUCK DIDNT YOU TEXT ME????????

7:12pm Gojo Satoru: YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT ME TEXTING YOU UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY ?

7:13pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): SATORU YOU THOGHT HE ATE SOMETHING W PEANUTS IN IT AND YOU FORGOT WHERE HIS EPIPEN WAS THATSS A FUCKIGN EMERGENCY

7:15pm Gojo Satoru: THE KID IS DOING FINE HES ALIVE JESUS LEAVE ME ALONE 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: See. he’s chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isn’t he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?

7:20pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

He tried to keep his word though (although he doesn’t recall ever giving it) out of the respect he had for your mom. She was a hard-working lady, single mom of two who went from working three jobs to now being a major administrator at a big law firm near the outskirts of town. It was an underdog story if he’d ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story. 

But a little texting here and there wouldn’t hurt, right? Or so he thought, until you told him to cut it out with the contact. Maybe you were just trying to be the good one in this situation. After all, hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, he’ll eventually get your replies to his which shirt should Yuuji wear to the park? and look, the toothfairy gave him the butt of a joint and a couple thumbtacks for his front tooth. he’s ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you weren’t trying to preserve propriety. And when you’d occasionally visit every other weekend, he’d do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and you’d fill up your nights with hangouts with your hometown friends to avoid spending too much time with him at the house. A silent agreement to not fuck each other, it was. 

4:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(

5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]

5:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!

5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll it’s fake. We’re working on his halloween costume

5:09pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY DOES IT HAVE BLOOD?!?!?!?!?!?

5:10pm Gojo Satoru: He wants to be a baby xenomorph and I'm his parasitic host. You know that iconic chestburster scene from the old school alien movies? yeah

5:12pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something

5:13pm Gojo Satoru: I’m not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him

5:14pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. you’ve deranged his brain.

5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.

Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, he’d say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows it’s close to neither. He’s no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, he’s a con artist that’s tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because he’s trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given he’s not knocked dead before then for the crime’s amusement.

But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojo’s grown attached to him too. He taught the kid how to tie his own shoes and piss inside the actual toilet like a real man. And that kid’s the only thing that’s made him question any of this. Maybe that’s what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that you’ll stick around to see your kids get older. The thought that there are eyes on you now, eyes that are innocent and hopeful and learning, and because they know nothing at all, you feel the responsibility to protect them from everything. For fucks sake, remind him to never become a dad. 

“Do you like my sister?” Yuuji had asked him out of nowhere one afternoon after he just got home from preschool, stacking a blue cube over a yellow one at the dining table.

“Uhh,” Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. “Yeah, she’s cool. You’ve got a cool sister.”

“But. But.” Yuuji stutters, trying to find his big boy words. He stretches up higher to reach the top of his stack of blocks, but he only has so much arm real estate at the age of five. “Do you like her like you wanna kiss her?”

Gojo grabs the block from the kid’s hand, for a moment questioning Yuuji’s decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kid’s concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it. 

Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isn’t a kiss to a five-year-old just something their mom gives to them before they head off to preschool for the day? And not something that happens between adult men and women? Maybe he should stop watching that adult swim in front of him.

“No. I don’t want to kiss your sister,” he says, again, because he is suspicious of a wire. It was a lie and then some, because he wants to do a lot more than just kiss you.

Gojo lifts the RedBull he was nursing up to his lips and watches Yuuji in the corner of his eye as the kid stares at his growing stack of blocks with a concentrated expression on his face, his chubby fingers squeezing tightly into little round dimpled balls, like he’s putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.

“It’s ok. You can kiss her if you wan’ed to. You can marry her too,” Yuuji says.

Gojo almost spits out his RedBull. He barely manages to swallow it, a broken cough immediately leaving his throat when some of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe and he’s smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.

“Where the fu—…where the flip did that come from?” he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.

Yuuji’s small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. “I want a papa.”

Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what it’s like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojo’s not really close to his old man by any means, but he had still been a fatherly figure in some pivotal moments when he had needed it growing up. Kids need their dads. And he’s seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.

He’s also kind of shocked that Yuuji really did think of you as his motherly figure. Maybe since it had always just been him and his dad, Gojo learned how to self sustain from a young age, and he and his dad became accustomed to just looking after their own interests to avoid the headache of tending to one another. My land is my land, and your land is yours, and there was the occasional Saturday night spent together with his dad’s millions of beer bottles emptied dry on the carpet in front of the 1992 box TV as the two shared a greasy pizza from the place down the street. That was the extent of family solidarity that he knew.

But he can’t imagine being barely eighteen and having to take care of your little brother all by yourself because your mom was too busy trying to put food on the table and was too poor to hire a babysitter. Your mom tried so damn hard to keep you away from the single teenage mother life, but somehow ended up giving it to you by proxy in the end anyway. It was no wonder you wanted space now that Yuuji’s a little older and your mom can afford a babysitter. No matter how much you might love your sibling, being their effective guardian out of pure necessity had to have taken a toll.

Gojo clears his throat before he speaks. “Buddy. If I married your sister, we’d be brothers. I wouldn’t be your dad.” 

Yuuji’s eyes light up at the word brother. “Brothers? Me and you?”

“Yeah. Bros.”

The kid giggles, all bubbly with cheeks rounding fully and eyes sparkling. Gojo reaches out to ruffle at his hair before Yuuji gets down onto one stubby leg at a time from the chair then bolts towards the kitchen.

“Juice!!” he yells somewhere around the corner out of sight.

Gojo sighs, staring at all the toys he pulled out for Yuuji to play with, all left in a scattered mess across the table. He gets up out of his chair and heads towards the fridge. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your juice, you little demon.”

The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids don’t really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them. 

This is what he thinks of tonight when he wraps his worn out boxing tape around his hands and his wrist, tightening it with his teeth, and he can smell the sweat and grime from them. The back of the underground gym had an old dated locker room, and as Gojo stretches his neck side to side while sitting on the stiff metal bench, he eyes the peeling red paint of the locker in front of him, blurring vision making it look like spilt blood. 

His phone pings with a text. He shuffles inside his duffle bag to look for it while his other hand scratches at his bare chest.

1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y i’m 

He blinks at the screen, confusion flashing across his face. He types one letter, but then he sees three dots and a speech text bubble in the bottom left, so he waits for you.

1:09am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i drunk :(

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. 

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

1:10am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): at a apartyyyy

His eyebrows raise slightly, the thought of you tipsy on some frat party couch flashing through his mind, yet of all things you could be doing at that frat party, you’re texting him? Must be a really boring party.

1:11am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?

1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldn’t sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Don’t you have a midterm in the morning?

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that

1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge

1:15am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): im so fucked;’;(((

He snorts. He’s got a bit more life experience than you, five-ish years to be exact, more than enough time to master the no-hangover hangout, but just before he can offer you some advice, he sees another text from you. 

1:16am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): can i tell u smething 

His gaze flits up to the ceiling briefly, and he hears commotion outside the thick walls of the locker room. The previous fight was over, and fast. The guy must’ve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up. 

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

He stands up, placing his phone down on the bench before he flexes the muscles in his arms a couple times to get the blood flowing into them. And there’s the noise of another ping. Actually, four.

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i thikn of  1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): *kissed me

His eyes widen slightly, irises dry to the ashy cigarette smoke from outside lingering in the air, and his heart rate picks up a bit. An adrenaline junkie with close to no fear in his veins due to the way his amygdala’s been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet he’s got his breath hitched from the memory of your soft lips against his. It makes the blood rushing through the muscles of his arms rush somewhere down south instead.

Loud banging on the door of the locker room jolts him out of his trance, and he’s stiff around the edges once more.

“Satoru! You’re up, man,” he hears Danny, the fight coordinator, yell at him from the other side of the heavy & poorly-installed steel door.

Gojo sighs, glancing down at the texts on his phone. To respond, or not to respond. You’re off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain you’ll regret every life decision you’ve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors you’ve engaged in tonight. He knows that responding to you might put you at ease rather than straight up ignoring you, but the feeling will pass, and he has a match to win with no more room left to stall.

He makes his way out the locker room, pushing past the crowded halls of people underneath dim flashing club lighting, some dudes angrily jerking to face him when he pushes past them with a stiff shoulder, only for their eyes to widen when they see just exactly who pushed them. 

There’s strippers in the ring, doing some routine for pre-match, and Gojo narrows his eyes at the man he sees laying back over the rubber boundary rope, head tipped back up to the ceiling with a wicked grin on his face. So that was his opponent? He’s never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while they’ve been preparing to be here for weeks. Hence why boxers tend to do better when they visit a different district than they do in their own. There have been rules made to limit these types of fights, mostly over outrage that it was unfair to bid on them, but they were also usually more entertaining to watch. Gojo’s got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.

“Hey,” Gojo calls out, grabbing Danny by the back of his collar and dragging him towards him and away from the girls stepping down onto the floor, “what’s in for this fight?”

Danny glances up at the ceiling. “Tarp’s bettin’ tonight, so it can’t be anything less than ten grand for you. I’d say tops fifteen?”

Gojo narrows his eyes further, then glances off into the ring again. The man stands up, and Gojo gets a better look on his face. He’s got short hair, neon green in color with a dark fade underneath and tattoos all over his face. But those eyes. They were freakishingly red, and it made him uneasy. He knows the type. The type of boxers that do this to genuinely hurt people for thrill. Make no mistake, Gojo understands he’s made himself out to be like that too, gaining some kind of rush out of this profession, but this type of fighter was different. The type to literally continue smashing a dude’s face into the floor until they’re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because that’s the kind of action the spectators wanted.

Danny reads his line of sight. “That’s Gale. Newton’s new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. He’s undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,” Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. “Chances are he’ll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. I’m talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this.”

“Uh-huh,” Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Danny’s elbow falls from it. Forget the money, he just wants to make it out of this alive.

He sets his foot up on the square, ducking through the dividing boundary straps and the tacky caution construction tape that the gym thinks creates an exciting ambience. He hears the static of the speakers as the announcers call out Gojo’s name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojo’s chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena. 

The dim overhead lights flickered, casting shadows over the makeshift ring, and the crowd pressed tight around at every perimeter area, yelling and pushing, one even tosses a beer bottle on the square and it shatters, spreading glass all across, a few shards reaching Gojo’s feet and he looks down at them with a shudder. A fight immediately breaks out in the crowd over something related or possibly entirely unrelated, and he’d have no way of knowing as he swipes the shards away with his heel.

The influential men always sat up on higher seating, off towards the back in their own VIP section where they suck in the smoke of fat cigarettes and peer through 100% tinted sunglasses to assess the boxers they’ve bid thousands on. The light reflects off the golden grills of their teeth with every snarl at any passerby that gets too close, like a lion in its den. That’s what the sanction was called. Lion’s den.

Gojo sighed, eyeing the twisted grin of this Gale guy across from him. Was that his real name? Usually, foreign district guys get nicknames. Gojo’s always thought the nicknames were tacky, and he’s accumulated some of his own over the years, but to his ears, none of them ever really landed, although The White Fox admittedly was kinda nice. Reminded him of throwback shooting games. 

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, holding his hands up in front of his chest in weak fists, storing energy in them in the form of pure anticipation alone, and then the bell rang.

His opponent lunged towards him immediately, fists flying in a barrage of reckless strikes, and Gojo’s eyes momentarily widened in the briefest moments of hesitation he had been allowed before ducking and dodging every one of this guy's shots, then jumping a step back to create distance.

Fuck. He was fast. Not just boxer fast, athlete fast. There was a difference. And it wasn’t a good one to be up against.

Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldn’t win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and he’ll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guy’s face, grin wide like he’s some cannibalistic beast. 

Stepping back towards the center, Gojo purposefully set himself up for Gale to swipe a vicious hook towards his head, before Gojo last minute ducked down, crouched to the floor, and swung his leg out to knock the guy off balance by his ankles, and he falls onto his back with a loud thud!

There’s a moment of momentary silence from the crowd, right before Gojo put the man in a torso-lock, twisting him in a way a human body should absolutely not be twisted, hearing the grunts of pain and the crack of spine even through the shouts of the crowd.

He can hear it. Kill him! Knock his fucking teeth out! Snap his neck like a goose, man! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM!

He feels like throwing up. 

Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasn’t really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. “This is enough, right?” he asks.

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

Gojo lets go of his opponent, leaving him there to heave for a moment before he gets up onto his feet again. Just needs one more, and he’s a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he won’t have to come back here for a couple weeks.

Gale gets up, swiping at the spit that had trickled out the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and he had an enraged look on his face. The second the bell rang for the second round, he exploded forward towards Gojo with even more fervor than before, gritted expression with a thirst for violence fueling the storm of punches he was throwing towards Gojo but he tried to remain calm, light on his feet, swiftly duck and avoid before he can find another opportunity to clear a sharp, clean jab right to the ribs—

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

Gojo misses his strike, leaving his guard wide open, and Gale takes the opportunity to land a solid punch straight to his jaw, sending his mouth guard flying straight out of his mouth into the air, and knocking him backwards onto the ground with a thud and then he finds himself staring up at the rusting metal ceiling and a ringing in his ears that almost matches the roar of the crowd.

His head is in a haze, dizzy like where one second could feel like a millennia. He feels a soreness underneath his chin, a pain that radiates to his mouth, and he briefly swipes his tongue over his front teeth to make sure he still has all of them. 

What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. There’s no intrusive thoughts allowed in life or death situations, not when he was always just one smash to the head away from a permanent concussion. But, fuck, he can’t help it. Can’t help thinking of you. Even when his vision has gone blurry and he should really be weary about what happens next in this ring, his mind’s just thinking about you, at some frat party, tipping back shots of tequila and waiting for a text-back in response to your tipsy ones. Were you even waiting up on him? Have you already passed out on the couch, or were your friends dragging you back to your dorm? Or are you fucking some other dude right now? Has he got his hand up your top, squeezing at you, sleazily feeling you up before spilling beer all down your shirt, and are you kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, your phone now somewhere long slipped between the cushions of the couch and out of sight?

Even though it’s still sore, he tenses his jaw. Grinds his teeth, even. Tasting blood somewhere along the line of his gums, he realizes his lip is split. He licks at it, the flavor of copper more rich on his tongue, and he clenches his fists tightly. Why’s he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe that’s what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although he’s not sure why the guy across from him at the ring has to pay for it.

He lifts his head up off the ground, and while it felt like years he had been down, a glance at the timer tells him it’s only been a solid four seconds. A solid four seconds that his opponent had to fully charge a lunge towards him with the look of death in his face, raising his elbow up into the air in time with his leap, ready to come straight down, and Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight above him from where he’s still lying on the wood.

“Shit—” he cusses, rolling his body over to the side so that the dude falls straight down onto the floor rather than elbow Gojo in the fucking ribs, and then he gets back up on his feet. 

Stakes were high, he has to end this, he has to end this now, and he flexes the muscle in his right bicep, channeling everything he has into this one blow, and before Gale even really has a chance to turn around and face him again, Gojo’s already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guy’s chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before he’s sent flying backwards and slammed against the tight rubber lining of the ring to where he was half hanging over it.

The room fell silent for a split second, then erupted in a roar as the referee fell to one knee beside Gale, checking him for any semblance of consciousness, and when he found none, he waves the match off. 

Gojo’s eyes flit up towards the lion’s den, the only opinions that he really needed to care about were sitting in those mahogany chairs with glasses of scotch swirling around in their hands, and he sees some of them looking straight at Gojo before leaning towards one another and discretely talking about something he can’t make out because he doesn’t know how to read lips.

He feels someone tug at his arms from behind, pulling him to crouch down and he balances back on the balls of his feet. He glances down through the ring at the floor. Danny was leaning against the wooden surface of it. “Dude. Go.” He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. “Go fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I don’t know, get some more blood out of him.”

“What?” Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Danny’s grip. “The fuck are you saying?”

“I told you, man, Newton’s here and he’s got his eye on you. Go give him a show,” Danny says, “do it.” And when he sees clear frustration on Gojo’s face he sighs. “Twenty-five grand, consider that, will you?”

Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Danny’s feet. “Go fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.” And then he ducks underneath the bands and hops back down onto the floor, pushing past people who were trying to grab at him and pull at him and lift him up and even throw him down until he made it through flashing hallways and back to the locker room.

He shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt lock into the frame so no one can follow him inside, and then he leans his weight back against the chilling steel before tipping his head back until it hits the surface too.

He lets out of a few deep breaths, then stares down at the sting he finds over his knuckles. Red and blistering from the last punch he delivered, and he’s almost certain he broke a bone in his hand. Fuck. It was bleeding across the cuts, too. He had to figure out a way to get it all healed by tomorrow, as if that was humanly possible, just because he doesn’t want Yuuji questioning him about it.

Yuuji. For fucks sake, when has he ever thought about the kid this much? When has he ever thought about much of anything when he’s out here or in the ring? He’s a babysitter by day. He’s a “part” of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. That’s it. He’s no five-year-old’s caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking of you when facing big, burly men he’s aiming to rough up, all within the dead hours of night. So then how come these thoughts are on his mind at all times, twenty-four-seven, around the clock?

He heads further into the locker room, glancing down at the bench where he’d left his phone, then picks it up, neck craned all the way down to glance at the screen as he holds his phone by his hip because he doesn’t have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight. 

He sees your messages. You never sent any follow-up ones, just your horrendously typed out sonetimes, i thikn of when u kisse me *kissed me across the span of four texts, and Gojo runs a tired hand down his face.

He tips his head back to groan at the ceiling, guttural with no basis other than a release of all the pent up frustration of every sort, then he types in a couple messages to you,

3:23am Gojo Satoru: That’s nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the time 

—and then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You’re awoken to your alarm blaring heavily, and you whack your arm across your nightstand table beside your tiny twin-size bed to hit the snooze button, then rub your eye with a loose fist while smacking at the residual taste of alcohol you have on your tongue. 

“Mm…” you mumble to yourself. And then the thirst hits you. The overwhelming, intense, unquenchable thirst that leaves your mouth feeling like the Sahara desert before you grab your twice-dented Hydroflask from the nightstand, twist the cap off and chug about twenty ounces of water in one breath. 

You let out a deep exhale and fall back into bed, your hand resting on top of your water-filled tummy, and you stare up at the ceiling of your dorm. 

Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldn’t have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam in—you checked the time on your phone—about an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache that’s pounding through your head. But your roommates insisted you went, and so go you did. You never knew what to expect, always torn between shaving your pussy before you go or throwing on a stained pair of sweatpants to keep the guys away instead. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. But last night, you ended up drinking more than you usually do, and that always led to poor, poor, poor decisions, in which all the sense of pride you had in yourself was washed down with the puke that you hurled into the upstairs toilet. 

You grab at your phone again, briefly seeing that your friends had sent you some photos from the night. You immediately swiped off to the side to dismiss the notifications, because as far as you were concerned, you never wanted to see those photos in your life.

And then, in the briefest of moments, you saw a familiar name in your notifications that made you heart skip a beat.

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

With an immediate gasp, you pulled your phone to your chest and held it there, blinking up at the pale yellow ceiling, your heart picking up in rhythm.

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you don’t even remember what you said, and so you don’t even want to see what he replied with.

You groan, rubbing both your hands across your face then kick your sheets back with your feet like a child having a temper tantrum because you were so embarrassed you had even texted him at all last night. I mean, he was hot. A little older than you, really gorgeous eyes, tall, and, yeah, you gave him shit for the Instagram muscles thing, but that’s only because you thought he’d find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that he’s more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man you’ve ever met. You didn’t want to have a flustered schoolgirl attitude because it would just seep through to his ego.

In any case, he was hot, there was no denying it, so can you really blame yourself? But still. There was collateral with this. You had to see him every other weekend. He knows your family, even your extended since they invited him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks ago. A high-risque drunk text recipient if he ever was one (of course he has been, look at that face). Why couldn’t you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJ’d you underneath your desk at the back of the lecture hall instead?

The thing that made you nervous about Gojo Satoru was that he was just so��confident? Like, in that I was raised to be this way confident and not that I fought inner demons my whole life to barely end up this way confident, y’know? Never had to fake it ‘til he made it, he just was. At least that was the kind of energy you got from him, and unfortunately for you, it was nerve wracking but enticing all at the same time.

You sigh. “Stupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair to grip at the strands.

You pull your phone away from your chest, and finally brave yourself to read the texts from your notifications screen, but not without blurring your vision a little to further stall. And then you finally refocus it to read them. The first one you see has you gasping—

3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter): I think about fucking you all the time 

It has heat spreading across your cheeks, and you blink at your screen, then quickly swipe up to read the previous messages with rushed glides of your index finger on the screen to see that he had sent it to you in response to your barely coherent texts about how you still so often think about that time he randomly pressed you up against the door of your bedroom to kiss you that night you first met him.

I think about fucking you all the time

At 3 in the morning? He decided to send that text at 3 in the fucking morning? That was the devil’s hour. What’s he trying to tell you? 

Oh come on, you’re not stupid. And you know he isn’t either. The sexual tension was palpable, it was there since the day you two met and you almost stabbed him, and also everytime you were visiting the house, and his shoulder brushes against yours when he’s trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when you’ve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojo’s sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. There’s even sexual tension over the phone, in those stupid texts he sends you all the time about meaningless child care stuff, and honestly, those little updates made your day.

But… you don’t know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And she’d probably pulverize him if she found out he ever made a move on you. Cremated without leaving a trace behind would be an understatement. She thinks he’s no good and she thinks you’re too good. You know she’s warned him before to not get close to you, as if she was pre-emptively expecting him to try to get in your pants like it was some canon force of the universe, hence why he’s probably so fucking awkward around you whenever she’s there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so he’d rather not risk it by just avoiding looking at you at all.

Your mom has always been protective of you. Your father was a deadbeat, one she thought she loved, only to watch him leave. And she had to raise a baby all by herself. He re-entered your lives right before you graduated high school, knocked up your mom again with Yuuji, and guess what? Left again without a trace. To be doubly humiliated by a man is a fate you wouldn’t wish on any woman, but that’s exactly what your mom went through. It was a wake-up call for her, though. No more living paycheck to paycheck like you had been your whole lives up until Yuuji was born. The kid doesn’t even know how lucky he is with everything he has right now. Your mom worked her way up the corporate ladder and made something of herself and now you guys were comfortable, so it was safe to say she had some sort of right to look after her daughter, of whom she simply doesn’t want to follow in the same naive footsteps of her youth.

You get it. She wants to break the generational cycle. But it made being with men tough on all fronts, let alone dating. You could never bring a guy home because he’d never be enough, even if he cured cancer or could make you orgasm while doing a sixty-nine handstand. And while her overbearing paranoia over what you do or where you are or who you’re with has since dimmed slightly since you officially moved out to finish your last year of higher education at NYU, you can still feel her disappointment from a hundred miles away when you’re making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.

But you got to college. You’ve already made it this far. You’re on dean’s list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. You’re the most highly decorated cello player in the state. You won Miss County pageant when you were sixteen for your philanthropic efforts towards feline leukemia. You did online community college for three years so you could stick back after high school and help your mom raise Yuuji, which meant that you had to forfeit your scholarship to Cornell. You’ve spent your whole life being good, you just wanna be bad for a little bit.

And if bad meant fucking the hot and mysterious babysitter, then so be it. 

You pick your phone up, begin blasting what the hell by Avril Lavigne on your dorm room bluetooth speaker, then type a message to him that says—

10:34am you: do it then

—then shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life i’ve been good, but now, ahhhh i’m thinkin’ what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but he’ll thank them for it later once his balls are empty. 

He’s got you on your back, sprawled across the couch in the living room, the first fuck being a rushed one that you offered him with before he has to go pick Yuuji up from circle time at preschool, which wasn’t ideal, but he’s delirious at the sight of you underneath him right now. Your little NYU shirt, a tighter one this time, bunched up over your bare breasts, otherwise entirely naked other than the flimsy panties dangling at your ankle, and the view of the tip of his cock looking hot and heavy against the velvet of your cunt, slowly pushing in, feeling the warmth of your walls squeeze around him paired with the sweet moan that leaves your lips, makes him fall forward with a bracing hand dug into the cushion by the side of your head because the sensation feels so fucking good he can hardly keep himself upright.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but he’s still got a couple inches he needs you to take, and so you curl your hips upwards towards the cieling to make more room for him, practically putting yourself into a mating press and soon enough he’s balls deep, “you on any birth control?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.

“I can cum inside then, yeah?” he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.

“Let’s get there first, and then we’ll discuss,” you breathe out.

“I’ve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,” he informs you flatly, because it was just the truth and you had to know it, then he feels himself twitch inside, slowly working up to a languid rhythm, almost fearfully like your mom’s going to pop out somewhere around the corner with a camera crew ready like one of those retro TV shows just to humiliate him on national television for not keeping it in his pants like she’d told him to. 

“Harder,” he hears you whisper, and he rolls his eyes shut to just focus on the feeling. The feeling of your nails grazing down the skin of his chest and his abs, tracing the scars he’s collected over the years, and he feels you tightening around him. He leans down to kiss you, fucking you properly now with the squeak of the couch springs echoing across the room, your hums of moans seeping through his lips until he’s fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue. 

The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment he’s lost all sense of control. He wasn’t just an adrenaline junkie that liked to rough up dudes, he was an adrenaline junkie that wanted to fuck you against all better judgement or moral compass. The way your tits were bouncing, the slap of skin on skin, his balls slapping against your ass while you wrap your legs around him tighter, all convincing him that any consequence made it worth it.

“Good,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rams his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears and he feels heat spread all the way up his neck, “goooood, keep squeezin’ me like that, fuck.” He slows down momentarily, just to take a moment and watch, really look and see the way his length disappears inside of your pretty self with every push forward, and then he works back up to a relentless pace that has you tipping your head back with a slack jaw and eyes closed tightly shut, sprained expression of pleasure spread across.

“Oh, oh my god, Satoru—” you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His hand finds it’s way between your legs, calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your clit and you jolt underneath him, gasping as your hand shoots out to dig your nails into his bicep for purchase. “I’m gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.”

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, “Atta girl,” he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as they’d go near your ears, folding you in half and then reigns all hell into your cunt. He should really care a bit more about your pleasure, but testing your flexibility like this with both his hands holding you down was doing sinful things to his brain, and besides, you had yourself covered with the messy circles you were rubbing over your clit. It was hot to see that too, your nimble pretty fingers so close to the place where he was pounding into you. 

“Oh shit, shit, shit—” he grunts when starts to see blistering white in his vision, balls straining with a pleasure that was almost painful. The moment he finishes feels like hot flashes in his brain, a heat like the cum he begins to paint inside your walls in time with your release, thrusting over and over and over, each one more staggered as he lets off a long, drawn out groan that comes from deep within his chest with the feeling of you milking him dry and the sound of you enjoying every second of it. He can’t remember the last time he came this much or this hard and even after coming down from the high, he feels the remnant pulse of your orgasm around his now half-flaccid dick.

He leisurely pulls out, hearing you let out a soft whimper as he marvels at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you and down towards the couch, before he scoops it up with a couple fingers and pushes it back inside. You grip his wrist tightly, but you weren’t stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

He pulls his fingers out of you, coated with sex, then plugs your pussy with the fingers of his other hand because he kinda likes the idea of you walking around all day with him inside of you, so he doesn’t want it getting out. He’s then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find he’s met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, “bet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.”

Your furrow your brows at him, the pout of your lips seen in the way they were puckered to lick his fingers off clean, and when you release the suction with a smack of your tongue and his fingers were wet from your saliva now, his eyes narrow with desire. You push his face away with the heel of your palm to his forehead. “Flattery won’t make me suck your dick.”

“Alright. So? How is it?” he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until he’s hovering over you again, “taste good?”

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

“No,” you say, and you can’t make eye contact, “good.” You sigh. “Hot. I don’t know. Salty, sweet. I’m the sweet. You’re the salty. And this conversation is obscene.”

He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste what’s on yours. “I like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.”

There’s the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

He gets up off the couch in a panic, and heads to the window of the living room fully butt-ass naked, then peers through the blinds to see—

Your mom was making it up towards the front door, rustling with her keys in her purse. And the last thing he sees before he turns around to face you is her pushing the keys through the lock.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he cusses, finding his boxers off of the floor, hopping on one foot with his cum & slick coated dick flapping around and slapping against his thighs unceremoniously as he tries to get one leg in through them and then the other. You’re trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, he’s still sad he can’t freely stare at your tits anymore. You’re rummaging for your skirt in a haste, looking everywhere for it, and he finds it underneath the coffee table before tossing it to you and then he side-to-side hops towards the coat closet while he pulls his sweatpants up over his ass, in time for you to quickly run and shut the door of the closet closed just before the front door of the house swings open.

The inside of the coat closet is dark, barely enough space in there for a six-foot-four two-hundred-and-twenty pound man, but it’s better than being balls deep inside his boss’s daughter on the couch when said boss just came home from work.

He hears conversation on the other side of the door, albeit muffled, and he presses his ear to it to hear better while he tucks his dick into his boxers from where it was hanging over the waistline.

“Mom! You…you’re home so early,” he hears you squeak out.

“Yes,” your mom says, “The rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured I’d come home when there’s less traffic.”

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

“I see, I see, how was your day at work?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.

“Fine.” And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasn’t really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means she’s suspicious about something. “Darling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.”

Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. “Oh, um, I just went to pee. Must’ve—…must’ve got caught when I pulled it back up.” 

“I see,” your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. “You know, I really don’t like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe it’s just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.”

“Mom,” you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.

Your mother sighs. “In any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I don’t have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.”

“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” you chirp, and then he hears you let out a small oh no before you lean even more weight against the door, this time somewhere lower, and he realizes you’re pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizes— his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldn’t put your panties on fast enough. 

Shit. That’s hot. A little fucked up, but hot. He feels his dick harden against the fabric of his boxers, and he rests his forehead against the door, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat as he slips his hands down his sweatpants and then gives his cock a firm squeeze. The thought of you discretely swiping his cum up your inner thigh and smearing it against your thin panties so your mom doesn’t catch sight of it dripping down your legs has him slowly working up to a rock-solid erection, and he almost lets out a broken grunt from the feeling.

“What?” your mother says, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“I’ve just been watching TV this whole time,” you say, “last time I saw him…he was…um, in the backyard pulling weeds?”

He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad. 

Your mother sighs loudly, and he glances down at the strained veins on his dick as he tugs it through his hand, the tip rearing and appearing flushed and dripping with precum. God, you were just on the other side of this door. Less than a few inches away, and he’d be inside of you. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,” your mother says in a more or less detached tone, and he can hear the stomps of her footsteps up the stairs from above him in the coat closet.

The two of you wait at least a solid minute, and just when the coast is clear, he hears you turn the knob of the coat closet and slowly crack it open.

“Okay, I think she’s in the shower, I hear the water running,” you whisper at him, “you can go now—” You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. “What—…Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!” you whisper-hiss at him.

He pulls you into the coat closet, pushing your front against the door to where it clicks shut, and you gasp when his hands pin your wrists crossed behind your back and his dick presses into the plush of your ass.

“You talkin’ to your mom while your pussy’s stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing that’s ever grazed my lizard brain,” he tells you, flipping your skirt up and hooking your panties to the side, his index finger briefly brushing against your entrance to find it still leaking from the way your walls were pulsating from his words. And then he aligns his tip to your entrance. “Now keep quiet while I do this, ‘kay?”

“Oh—” you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, “okay—” you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before he’s already stuffing himself inside of you with one solid glide of a push, making you yelp loudly and he has to instantly cup a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhhhh,” he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, “told you to— fuuuck,” he catches sight of his length covered with a mix of your glassy arousal and his white cum, now starting to cream at the base of his cock, “jesus christ—” he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, “I told you to fuckin’ keep quiet.”

“I’m—mff,” you muffle against his palm, “I’m trying but,” your hips move back in time with his, “feels good, feels too good,” you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.

“Yeah?” he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, “you like it when I fuck you while your mom’s all clueless just up the stairs?” His rhythm falters, feeling his release building, and his hand reaches in front of you to rub your clit, making you drop your head against the door with tightly closed eyes. “Gets— you—wet, doesn’t it?” he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable. 

“Mhm, mhm,” you easily agree, or maybe that’s because it’s all you can really articulate, and he angles his hips up so his balls slap more fervently against your clit, making you scream into his palm while he picks up the pace of the circles he draws on your clit and in one, two, three— beats of his pounding heart, he feels you come undone around his cock, gushing wetness leaking out of you, he can feel the mess of fluids splattering on the skin of his thighs due to each of his heaving thrusts as he cusses out a fuuuuuuckkk before spilling his cum inside of you, a short-lived and thicker release this time that has you mewling from overstimulation, and in a few following thrusts, he’s given you everything he had to give.

His eyes open, he wasn’t even aware he had shut them in the first place, and he glances down at where the two of you were joined. Rings of arousal coat the length of his half-pulled-out dick, and the second he retreats all of it, a bulging push of his cum seeps out of you, dripping and pooling all over the hardwood floors.

“Holy shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,” he says, taking a step away to commit the sight to memory, your legs trembling and still slightly spread, ass pushed out and when you wiggle it a little, he lets out a huff of an exhale because he just can’t believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? He’s never been to college, his old man’s been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.

“No pics,” you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, “that’s my one sex rule.”

He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. “That’s the only rule you have? Anything else goes?” he asks.

You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. “I have a feeling I’d be making up more specific rules if it was with you.”

He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. “I also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didn’t do.”

You blink your eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused, “I didn’t.”

“Huh—” you scoff, “how do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didn’t just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.”

“Nahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, that’s not flirting,” he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, “that’s, like—…I don’t even fuckin’ know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.”

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

“Well you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean I’m stupid.”

“Pshhh. You’re cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.”

Your hand slowly roams up the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching at your wrists until you uncovered up to his collar bone, and you stare at his skin. He tries to not let the way his heart’s beating faster show through the heave of his chest. 

“Why do you have all these scars, anyway?” you whisper to him.   

“Too many girls tryna stab me,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.” Your thumb traces the one you had left on him. 

“I—” He stops himself.

Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because he’s seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen he’s supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesn’t know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, I’m an underground boxer might make you think he’s hot? At the very worst, you’ll report him to the cops and he’d get fired as your little brother’s babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.

“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time,” he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, “no hyper personal details until you’ve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. That’s my one rule.”

You snort. “I could’ve guessed that rule from a mile away.”

He hums. And then there’s the sound of steps creaking down the stairs above the two of you.

You both make eye contact, eyes widening, internally yelling at each other: how the fuck did we get into this situation twice?!

This time, Gojo opens the door and stumbles out of the closet, leaving you inside of it, just in time for your mom to come down the stairs.

“Satoru. I was looking for you,” she says as she rounds the post. “Have you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.”

“Ah, nope, was just about to head out,” he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, “sorry, I was—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, “…pulling out some gnarly weeds.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.” And he’s not sure how to respond because he’s not sure if she’s joking. 

He heads out the door, the keys to your mom’s minivan in his palm as he throws them up into the air and catches them a couple times. And just before he gets inside the car, he turns on his heel to face the house and pulls his phone out of his pocket to type in a message for you.

3:22pm Gojo Satoru: Send over those me-specific sex rules soon

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. hope u enjoyed im shitting bricks posting this bc i haven't posted a oneshot smut since february but thanks so much for reading i appreciate u!! i got way too invested in the whole underground boxer thing 😂😂 but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know i’m a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n it’s a lil angsty (totally different au tho) i’ll probs post that one next but yea i really like, hmm, i really like exploring entire characters within a short amount of time i enjoy writing the obscure lore drops xd it’s been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3

➸ masterlist

taglist:

@joemama-2 @erencvlt @pickuptruck01 @hanakotateyama @nuronhe

@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

@sirencholia @sorcerersseestars @horisdope @to-dabi @staoru

@aliidarling @ninjaturtletoes @lavender-hvze @lanadelreylover11 @chckn-pi

@satoryaa @gojodickbig @v4mpieres @reinam00n @sleepyyammy

@haikomaiko @tbzzluvr @myahfig4 @arabelluhhh4200 @bloopsstuff

@nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf @badbclub @blackunecorn @geniejunn @n0tviv

@verystrawberryhottub @iheartshopping @peonysfordayz @dreamsxmerci @aishies-stuff

@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

[gothgoblinbabe]

Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You

(chapter 1/2)

(Logan Howlett x fem reader)

A/N: Yeah, the brain rot has reached a maximum and I've completely disregarded the consequences of a digital footprint! there's a couple descriptions of style of clothing/jewelry but you can imagine that as you please, also absolutely based off of "Babe Im Gonna Leave You" by Led Zeppelin bc idk somewhere in my delusions I think Logans a Zeppelin kinda guy and its what I've been listening to. For the sake of the plot, stick with me, you've got an imaginary ex bf and his random name I picked is gonna be Danny and he suuuucks real hard okay? okay and I need you to pretend dear lovely reader that you like led zeppelin if you don't 💔[holding your face ever so gently and smooching ur forehead] and I've seen only xmen origins, x-men, X2, and Deadpool x wolverine so pls pls forgive me if some stuff doesn't canonically fit. This is kind of cringe but I wrote too much of it to get rid of it just bare with me I beg of u and it was so long I had to split it into two parts

Summary: Meeting the infamous Wolverine got you roped into a liiiitle more than what you bargained for

Warnings: swearing, you have telekinesis and telepathy (cause that's cool, c'mon), mild angst, suggestive stuff kinda, mentions of cheating (Logan does not cheat on u I pinkie promise), Logan calls you kid but you're not actually a child lol, you're a good bit younger than him but also so is anyone else who isn't borderline immortal

Word Count: 4K

Pt 2!

[credit for text post dividers here and here]

There had been muttering here and there between the students at the academy that Wolverine was coming back after a few years on his own, confirmed when Marie recognized the motorcycle now parked in the driveway of the mansion.

"Logan!"

He was immediately wrapped into a hug by Marie at the door, dropping his bags to the floor.

"Hey, kid, miss me?"

"Maybe," she smiled sweetly, tucking the white strands of hair behind her ears.

"Long time no see, huh?" Ororo's voice interrupted from behind her, earning a hug from Logan.

"Any one else around?" he questioned, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder again.

"Scott and Jean are around here somewhere, Charles as well. Oh, and there's a couple new faces you haven't met," she responded, smiling at the way Marie's eyes lit up at the chance to mention what she had been meaning to tell Logan.

Marie gasped and said your name, grabbing Logan's arm in excitement, "you have got to meet her. She joined us a couple of months ago, I think you'll really like her. She's kind of been like...our you, when you've been gone."

He quirked an eyebrow at that, looking between the both of them for an explanation as to what that was supposed to mean.

"You'll see," Ororo chuckled lightly, "oh, you will see."

"She's here now, I think, you should go introduce yourself to her!"

Logan had swiftly caught onto Marie's adorable attempt to play cupid and gave her a nod, "maybe when I settle in, okay, kid?"

She nodded in agreement and both her and Ororo watched him walk off further down the corridor.

"How do you think it will go when they meet?" the later of the two asked earnestly once he was out of sight.

"Well," Marie paused for a moment, thinking, "they'll be inseparable or absolutely hate each other."

Ororo nodded in agreement almost immediately, holding in a small laugh.

Much later in the evening, Logan had been beckoned into the study along with Ororo, Marie, Bobby, you, Jean and Scott by Charles.

He had been the last to enter, eyes immediately settling on your unfamiliar frame stood next to Marie with your back against the wall. You had plenty of rings adorning your fingers and necklaces dangling in front of your chest in the same kind of fashion he'd seen in those magazines with the Harley biker girls. You looked a little like one of them too, in well fitting jeans adorned with a belt, a band shirt and some chunky boots, except you were very much real and not on glossy paper.

"Oh! Logan!" Marie exclaimed upon noticing his arrival, beckoning him over with her hand. That turned your attention to him and he felt like the wind may have been knocked out of him when your eyes met his. You were far prettier than any of the girls he'd seen in any magazine.

"This is her," Marie whispered to Logan when he approached and nudged his arm, referring to when she had told him about you earlier.

"This is Logan," Marie said to you, gesturing towards him and leaning a little closer to you to whisper something he wouldn't catch, "and he's single, by the way."

A grin was plastered on her face when she pulled away and you rolled your eyes, "Marie - "

"I know, I know, too soon, but I just thought that was very good information for you to know," she raised her hands and stepped away a little, still intent on watching how the two of you interact for the first time.

Logan extended a hand for you to shake and you did the same. Your hands were small in his and your skin soft to the touch. It was almost hard for him to drop your grip when he did, nervous that he'd hold it even a second too long.

Nervous. Women had rarely ever made him nervous in the hundred - something years he'd been alive, and yet he could feel his heart pounding in his ears when you ran your hands through your hair to push it out of your face.

"Nice to meet you," he finally spoke, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

This may have been a good opportunity to try out your powers a little, concentrate hard enough on the handsome stranger's face to know what exactly was playing out behind his staring gaze, but you resisted the urge to do what you considered a tad bit violating.

"Same here," you responded at last, averting your gaze for just a moment to avoid inadvertently doing exactly what you had just decided you wouldn't.

Marie and Ororo had studied the small interaction between the two of you - of course - waiting for something more to happen, only to be disappointed when the both of you nodded courtly and turned away from each other.

"Well, that's not good. He'd be on her like a dog already - " Ororo started under her breath.

"No, no, I just think..." Marie interrupted, narrowing her eyes between the two of you, "I think they just need to get to know each other."

"Honey..."

"I'm telling you, I just feel like they'd be good together, they just need a chance to get to know each other!"

"Do you really think she's ready to get with another guy?" Ororo nodded her head in your direction, lowering her voice, "after all that stuff Danny pulled?"

Marie grimaced at the mention of one of the professors names, shaking her head in mild disgust, "have you seen him lately? always coming up to her in the halls and stuff, it's sad - for him, I mean."

Before either of them could further debate the topic, Charles gained everyone's attention to discuss a series of tasks he'd assigned to you all. As he spoke, you only tuned in once you heard your name.

"You are the one I'd like to send out to complete that with Daniel."

"Could, uh, can I do it with someone else? or have him do it alone, or something?"

Logan caught the confused look Jean shot your way, tilting her head before she spoke, "You don't want to go with Danny? What happened, I thought the two of you -"

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, scowling, "uh-uh. Hell no. He...uh, I'll tell you about it later."

You had realized the sudden vulnerability you'd found yourself experiencing in a room full of eyes on you and cleared your throat, attempting to change the subject.

"I can hang back and keep an eye on the kids, I don't mind."

"They do love you," Ororo chimed in, "and we need someone to stay back to watch them anyway."

"They only like her so much because she allows them to break the rules," Scott remarked, earning a nudge in the arm from Jean.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, "Scott, the thing with the kids in your room was one time and it was an accident - "

"Was it? Because one of them wrote 'asshole' on my bathroom mirror with sharpie."

"They're kids, they do that kind of stuff!"

"was that really one of the kids?"

You tucked your lower lip under your teeth in an attempt to smother a laugh. Logan almost immediately did the same when you darted your eyes around the room in a guilty attempt to avoid eye contact.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me - " Scott started but Charles interrupted, holding up a hand.

"Alright, the both of you - enough. You," he continued, gesturing towards you, "may stay back with the children. Please do not allow them into anyone's personal quarters and I would advise you to hide the permanent markers for the time being, away from the children and perhaps yourself."

You nodded and hung your head low to hide the reappearing smile across your face. Logan stared inadvertently from then on, watching you twist your rings around your fingers and focusing on you intently when you spoke every now and then. When you were all dismissed by Charles and filed out of the room, you and Marie walked ahead of most of the group, almost out of ear shot.

Logan heard Jean's hushed voice behind him as she leaned into Scott, "so...what do you think happened? With Danny?"

"Who the hell is this Danny guy?" he finally asked, turning over his shoulder to interrogate the two of them.

"Well," Jean whispered your name, looking ahead to be sure you hadn't caught their conversation, "it's her boyfriend. Or was, I guess. They had a thing for awhile but they stopped hanging around each other all the sudden and she can't even stand to hear his name - she hasn't told me what it's about yet."

Logan simply hummed in acknowledgment, turning back ahead and finding his gaze caught on the sway of your hips as you walked.

"Oh no," he heard Ororo huff beside him, almost immediately following her gaze to see a guy he didn't recognize slip behind you and put an arm around your waist. Too far out of ear shot to hear the context, he watched you squirm out of the young mans grip and shake your head as you kept walking.

"Is it bad I want to get closer to hear what they're saying?" Ororo muttered, looking to the other three in her proximity.

"It's not our business," Jean reminded her.

"So, that's him?" Logan asked, gesturing to the guy still on your heels like a puppy.

"uh - huh," Ororo answered, frowning as she watched Danny make another pathetic attempt to put his arm around you.

When the two of you stopped at the far end of the hall and you told Marie it was okay to leave you, Logan, Ororo, Scott and Jean all turned the corner to the closest hallway.

"Oh, I know It's bad but I have got to know what lame excuse he's got this time," Ororo shook her head, stopping just around the corner to eavesdrop.

"Ororo - " Jean sighed, placing a gentle hand on her friend's arm, "come on."

"They're in the hallway! it's not like I'm standing outside a door," she reasoned, hushing them after so that the only voices hard were yours and Danny's.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm sorry - "

"Danny, many times do I have to tell you I don't care? Why won't you just leave me be?"

You sounded exasperated, your voice slightly muffled when you rubbed your face with your hands.

"What do you think he did?" Scott chimed in in a hushed town, now fully invested in the dialogue.

Logan was still stood there, though he wasn't too sure why. He could have and should have kept walking - let the three of them do their weird detective work - but instead found himself leaned against the wall with the rest of them.

"I love you, you know that, sweetheart, I - "

"ugh, don't call me that. You gross me the hell out, you know that?"

Both Jean and Ororo made almost the same shocked expression.

"oh, it has to be bad," Jean hissed, frowning at the venom in your tone.

"Tell me you're not still in love with me, you know you can't, we - " Danny's voice began again and yours cut him short with a sense of finality in your tone.

"Danny. I stopped being in love with you the day I walked in on you fucking another other girl."

Jean's hands flew to her mouth to muffle a shocked gasp. Scott stood with his arms crossed, his face in a grimace.

"ooh, that is bad," Ororo whispered just as a door slammed.

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, following everyone else as they continued their path down the hall again. This Danny kid had to be a real idiot.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄ * ⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Weeks had passed and you shared small talk with Logan every now and then, sometimes making snarky comments here and there - though more often than not together and at Scott's expense. Funnily enough, the ability to piss Scott off so much made Logan like you even more. Maybe Marie was right, you kind of are like him.

You walked alongside him down the corridor one afternoon, intending to fulfill Ororo's request for the both of you to check in on some of the newer students.

"So, do you always do your hair like that?" you raised your eyebrows up at him, eyeing the peaks in his hair.

"Yeah. What, you don't like it?" He grinned, expecting you to make some smart remark about it.

"No, not that," you giggled, "it's like lil' cat ears, it's cute."

He looked down at you quizzically, stopping in his tracks.

"cat ears?"

"mm-hm. You're like a big kitty."

You bit down another giggle, reaching up boldly to touch his hair.

He gently swatted your hand away, still with a small grin on his face.

"Don't call me that."

"Big kitty?"

"Yes."

"Okay, kitty meow - meow."

He narrowed his eyes as you turned to continue walking in an attempt to hide the huge smile plastered on your cheeks that threatened to transform into a rather loud laugh.

"Uh-huh, whatever. You better not let anyone else hear you call me that," he huffed as he caught up to you rather easily.

As you were about to make another retort, your smile dropped at the sight of a familiar and unfriendly face that had come from around a corner.

"Christ," you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration, rubbing your forehead at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

"Hey," Logan leaned down a little, nudging you gently, "I'm here, you're good. You're fine, don't worry about him. It's just us, alright? Walk past him like you don't even see him."

Though he'd be embarrassed to admit and absolutely deny it if anyone asked, he'd unfortunately (for himself) harbored a crush on you that only took a couple weeks to develop. He hadn't even really gotten the chance to know you yet, though that was precisely why he was glad about moments like these. He wanted to, even if he felt like a school kid with a playground crush.

You had simply nodded at his words, allowing him to place a gentle hand on your upper back to guide you down the hall with him. Even through the layer of a jacket and t-shirt, you could feel the warmth of his hand on you.

Logan remembered that moment in the hall on the first day you'd met, but never pestered you for details about what the hell went on before he got back. He figured when and if you wanted to tell him, that was up to you.

Keeping your eyes straight ahead, it took what felt like years to pass your ex-boyfriend. When you finally did, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, until his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"That's my shirt."

You whipped your head around, feeling Logan slip his arm a little further around you as a protective reflex.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your attire. The shirt, a tad oversized and well worn, was so familiar that you had completely forgotten it once did belong to him.

"I want it back," he spoke again, crossing his arms.

"Do you really want it back?"

You were beyond fed up with his pestering at this point, already having decided what may make the message clear.

"Yes."

"Okay. Fine."

You pulled away from Logan and slipped off your jacket, turning around to hand it to him. He gave you a confused look, hesitantly taking it out of your hands. In a matter of seconds, you turned back around and tugged the t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it directly at Danny's chest. You turned back and took your jacket from Logan's hands, zipping it far enough to cover your bra. In the few seconds you had stood facing him, he had done his best to keep his eyes away from your body and failed miserably, looking up after to see the asshole a few feet away already glaring at him.

"What, you're just gonna walk around like that? And what are you doing hanging out with him anyway, don't you know he - "

You groaned at the sound of Danny's voice again, gently tugging Logan by the hand in the opposite direction as you began to walk away, "yap, yap, yap - just shut the fuck up."

Logan couldn't help the smirk plastered across his face as you continued to walk, finally turning a corner. Before you could apologize to him for having to awkwardly stand witness to that, Scott's voice echoed from the stairway above you.

"Hey, Charles is looking for you two. He says he has something he needs you to take care of, he didn't say what."

"Thanks for the specifics, Scott," you replied sarcastically, "but we're supposed to check on - "

"I know," he interrupted, "I got Marie and Bobby to cover you. You're welcome, by the way."

You rolled your eyes and looked back to Logan, dreading what exactly it was Charles wanted from you.

That landed you where you were the next morning, heaving your bags into the back of Logan's truck.

"If we have to take the truck like two states over, can I at least drive?"

The plane being needed for another assignment that Jean, Scott and Ororo were assigned left the two of you with Logan's truck. You'd been asked to retrieve a rare mechanical piece needed for the construction of some new device; you'd only been half-listening when Charles started to explain the details, lost in thought after he'd mentioned it would require the two of you to sleep out overnight.

Man, that had made your chest feel tight. It had been almost physically painful trying to swallow down every tell that you really liked him for the past few weeks and now you had no choice than to be each others only company for nearly 2 days.

"Yeah, in your dreams, kid," Logan scoffed playfully and brought you back to reality, dangling the keys in his hand.

You narrowed your eyes at the keyring he began to spin around his finger. In a split second, the jangle of the metal could be heard as you snatched them from his hand with only a focused thought.

You caught them in your raised palm and tilted your head, a terribly smug smile across your cheeks.

"Looks like my dreams came true, huh?" you teased, walking past a still mildly distraught Logan to get into the drivers side.

"If you dent it, I'll kill ya," he warned as he finally slid into the passenger seat, watching your every move as you started the engine and carefully reversed out of the garage.

"Uh-huh, sure," you retorted sarcastically, "I'm terrified of the kitty claws."

"What did I say about calling me that?"

"Calling you what?" you feigned ignorance, fumbling with the knob on the stereo to change the station as your eyes stayed glued to the road.

"And don't mess with everything, kid, you'll end up breaking something. She's on old girl, you gotta - "

"Dude," you interrupted, simultaneously cranking down your window and fishing a pair of sunglasses out of his center console, "I know how to drive, chill out."

"Dude," he mocked, "this truck is probably almost as old as you, you gotta be careful."

You rolled your eyes under the shades of the worn aviators you had slipped onto your nose, simply nodding and continuing to flip through stations.

"Pick one and stick with it, will you?"

"Ooh, is someone mad I got the keys?"

Before he could say something in response, you gasped at sound of the song playing on the station you had just switched to, twisting the knob almost as far as it could go.

Logan recognized the familiar thump of "babe I'm gonna leave you" by Led Zeppelin, furrowing his eyebrows when you began to nod your head and sing along.

"You like Led Zeppelin?" he nearly had to shout over the music, leaning in to you a little further.

"Yeah," you responded, reaching over to turn the music down just enough for you to hear each other and glancing at him momentarily, "How come you're looking at me like that?"

He unfurrowed his eyebrows and shrugged, keeping his gaze on the road ahead as he spoke, " just never pegged you for a Zeppelin kind of girl, I guess."

"No? What's that supposed to mean?"

You were smiling again and it was excruciatingly difficult for him not to stare when you looked so good in the spot he usually sat with his old sunglasses on.

"Didn't think you had good taste in music."

That made you giggle and you shook your head, turning the stereo back up to a booming volume.

He watched you tap your fingers on the steering wheel to the drums as you continued to drive, occasionally moving to push your windswept hair out of your face. The morning sun shining through your open window highlighted your features perfectly and Logan sighed without a thought, unheard over the music. Jesus, he had it bad.

You could feel his stare in your peripheral vision every time he looked to you and it felt far warmer than the sun beating down on you from the opposite direction. You truly rarely ever used your developing skill of telepathy, feeling it was only justified when absolutely necessary to obtain information, but his burning gaze nearly had you veering off the road at times and his prior answer to the question of why he was looking at you that way wasn't too convincing.

With a deep breath, already wondering if it was a mistake, you kept your eyes focused to the road but gradually concentrated on the man beside you. Sometimes people's thoughts would appear as inner dialogue, other times as imagined scenarios, daydreams or visuals. You were confused, then, when you only saw an image of yourself as you were now. If you concentrated too hard, your own thoughts would transfer to Logan's mind and it would be humiliatingly obvious that you had been poking around in his consciousness and so you tried to clear your mind and try again, assuming your own mind was too preoccupied with yourself to concentrate properly.

Still, you could only see the image of yourself driving from the perspective of the passengers seat, one hand on the wheel and the other in your hair as you propped your elbow on the door. This time, though, you could hear the accompanying echo of Logan's voice over the hum of the music you had tuned out.

Is her hair always like that? I like it that way. Pretty.

You swallowed hard, fidgeting with the hair that was between your fingers. It's a compliment - innocent enough, and undeniably kind of sweet. You felt guilty then for probing his thoughts and nearly shook yourself out of it, only to realize the image in Logan's mind was no longer of just your profile. He was thinking about your legs, thighs squished against the seat of the truck.

Fuck

You nearly choked on your own saliva, clearing your throat at the echo of his voice again and immediately withdrawing yourself from his mind.

"You okay?" Logan spoke aloud, putting a gentle hand on your upper arm.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you lied, trying with every fiber of your being to just keep all focus on the road. You knew you shouldn't have done that. It was just a thought, though, nothing said aloud to change anything between the two of you, and so you pretended the best you could that you hadn't heard or seen a thing.

About eight hours, a handful of dad rock albums and a stop to switch seats later, you finally pulled into the parking lot of the nearest motel you had found didn't have a highlighted "no vacancy" sign.

"If there's fucking bed bugs in here, I will never let you hear the end of it," you warned from the passenger seat.

"I think you'd talk my ear off till the day I die anyway," he scoffed, shifting the truck into park and pulling the keys from the ignition.

"You won't die for another hundred-something years."

"Exactly my point, honey."

You rolled your eyes and slipped out of the truck as he did, pretending the nickname hadn't made your face burn. You both grabbed your belongings and once inside you looked around the small lobby as Logan checked you in, impressed with how surprisingly clean the place seemed to be.

"Hey, is that okay?"

Logan's voice took your attention from the painting on the wall you'd been inspecting and you raised your eyebrows.

"Huh?

"Uh, there's a room left but it's only got one bed."

Your face dropped and you looked between him and the poor kid behind the counter who already looked nervous as all hell.

"You're kidding."

"We can keep driving, but we've already been on the road all day and I don't think there's another place around here for a good few miles."

He was much more calm than you expected him to be and you exhaled, thinking of the literal pain in the ass caused by sitting in the car for so many hours.

"Ugh, fine."

A/N: I had to split this in two because it was so long but If anyone likes this at all I will post da other part cause I like spewing my brain rot on the internet <3

[factual-fantasy]

If you don't mind me asking, what kinds of things happened with the Octonauts fandom? I know that the fandom can get really weird, even as an average person in the fandom, but I imagine that it's way worse for you since you're such a big artist.

It's sad that certain people end up pushing away cool people who also enjoy the show and characters just because people are freaks and can't keep their hands off of a kids show :/ even if they're not gross about it, people are so weird and sometimes aggressive??? It's an animated show about animal characters that save other creatures and teach important life lessons!!! What even is there for these people to be weird about, anyway?

I hope you're doing okay, just in general!!! :D It seems that the Creator's Curse™ has hit quite literally ALL of my favorite content creators this year. You were the first of many to have health issues </3

I hope you get better soon!

The Octonauts fandom, while there was a lot of support and kindness within it, had also had a looooot of baggage..

For one, art theft. I have had mountains of people stealing and reposting my Octonauts artwork. Almost more than my FNAF stuff I would say..

There's also the art tracers. I've called out multiple people for blatantly tracing my art and they refused to stop or take down their posts. I'm sure they were young, but that doesn't make it any more tolerable or less annoying..

Also people snagging all my designs and head cannons. There have been several people who copied my redesigns for the Octonauts line for line. Also people snagging my AUs name for name. Tagging things as sea dwellers and saying their post was canon. Even claiming to have made the au themselves. Despite the fact my specific designs are in their post and the plots I wrote are in there..

But it doesn't stop there. I've been called transphobic for not head cannoning Calico Jack and Kwazii be trans. I've been called homophobic for not shipping Barnacles and Kwazii together, and for not shipping any of the Octodads together. I've been questioned several times why I don't want my Octonauts posts to be tagged ship.

Then there's the crab comic. Despite it being around 3 years since i dropped the comic, I still get people harassing me and calling me horrible things for not finishing it. I have explained again and again and again that I do not want to continue that comic. Yet people will wont leave me alone about it.

I've kept a lot of this behind the scenes. None of my followers need to see all that negativity, and I'm sure some of them were trolls.. So most of this has gone down in my ask box, DMs, etc.

So to sum it up, my boundaries have been pushed a lot in the Octonauts fandom. I set up the Octonauts master post because I knew I wouldn't' have to update it for quite a bit since I don't plan to return to the fandom for a while. But that only resulted in more crab comic asks and unwelcome/demanding drawing requests. Even today my boundaries are still being pushed.

So until something in the fandom changes, or I find a way to interact with the fandom that wont result in all these pushed boundaries.. I plan to just drop the fandom and leave it be. I'll still answer peoples polite questions about it, but all the artwork I make for it will be private.

As a last note, woof. Have other artists gotten sick too? I've really lost my sense of time but I'm told I've been batting this health crisis for around 7 months. It feels waaaay longer than that.. but I guess its just 7 months.. I hope the other artists you know aren't sick for that long-

My health hasn't really gotten much better.. in fact I've gotten a lot worse. But if it is what they say, its not at all life threatening. Just very uncomfortable and makes me go a little nuts being copped up in my room all day 💀 I'm still working on it and hoping I finally see some improvement. I'll let ya'll know when I start to finally improve. 🙏

[shepscapades]

i love your dbhc au but i have a question regarding your last comic

i absolutely adore Mumbo as an android and especially the whole "he isn't allowed to kill anything so any command involving it turns into some kind of crazy automated machine that does it for him" because that's just a really good way of making this infinitely intelligent guy a little bit of a bumbling fool (/pos!!)

but isn't the soulcontract thing against that? i imagine killing grian is even more ingrained than just killing mobs, or is it fine now that he's deviated? (which also, interesting that first kill he gets after deviation is grian cause i assume he just doesn't realise he can actually kill mobs and stuff and keeps up his machinery?)

=:3

OUU This is a really great point. I hadn't really thought about it in detail, but deviating would technically mean that Mumbo is no longer held to his base programming/base objectives etc. I like to think that, for the most part, he keeps to the No Killing thing after deviation (partially because he goes a LONG time pretending he's not deviant and hoping no one notices) but also because by the time his deviancy is up and everyone knows, i would imagine that coming up with bizarre contraptions is just muscle memory at this point for him.

I absolutely love the idea that Grian's death here is Mumbo's first kill, though technically, Mumbo uses a piston machine to squash and kill him (and despite Mumbo's insistence, i highly doubt killing Grian was actually necessary for this "soul exchange." I'm sure Grian could have gone into watcher mode to initiate a weird soul splitting thing whenever LMAO). So, like mumbo's many other "kills" throughout the season, he's gotten a machine to do the work for him and kept the very technical blood off of his hands. And honestly, i'm sure actual hermitcraft mumbo made the machine for this purpose too.

I think him killing Grian this way, despite him not actually killing him by hand, still has a bit of significance, because I can't remember a time before this where Mumbo had to devise a machine to kill another player... So even though his hands are clean, this is still a pretty significan OH JUST KIDDING SCRATCH THAT i think Mumbo kills Joel in Last Life with a stone axe in canon... and i think he's part of the reason Impulse dies? By sword i think? Last life isn't technically the same but it's something at least. ANYWAY LMAO i may end up changing the last life plot a bit for dbhc mumbo so that isn't the case (his end crystal kills wouldn't count against his kill count) But the boogeyman thing makes it hard to work around... anyway that's a problem for future shep DLKGFJDFG i'm rambling now <3 this is a really fascinating concept for him, ty for the asks for pondering!! :D

[captainfantasticalright]

Another Sir Terry Pratchett interview on the details of writing Good Omens with Neil Gaiman. (More about this process x).

Question about how he goes about collaborating with someone else .

Terry: “You make them do what you want”.

Gary Cornell came up with something very apposite talking about working together, he says : It’s not that (each) of you does 50% of the work, each of you does 90% of the work.

Um. The way we did it then, and I can’t really speak as an expert because it's the only time I’ve ever done it and other people do it in different ways, it wasn’t a case of, the way the Americans tend to do it, um, is one person writes a draft and the other person goes in and noodles with that draft. We did the whole thing from the ground up; each was doing bits. The ad hoc way we had of working, it’s simple: I’ve got a track record writing novels, Neil hadn’t. So I became like the editor, the taskmaster. Because the other thing is the practical problem about two people 120 miles apart doing something, is that, um, it would be different now, but in those days we had no reliable means of electronic communication. We could connect computers together with modems and then spend the whole evening at cross purpose and ringing each other up and saying “I’m getting lots of little faces and shit like that all over..”

Three quarters of an hour and about eight phone calls, you actually managed to transmit about 2000 words you could have actually phoned and sneezed in a morse code.

[w]hen we were doing the first draft of the film script, we were both members of CompuServe so crappy our BT rural lines that the quick efficient way was for me to go into CompuServe and leave the work I’d done in Neil’s mailbox on the computer in Ohio or someplace and later that evening he would dial CompuServe in America and download it from Ohio or wherever it was.

So in order to get the script 120 miles, electronically it was doing about 10000. This is from the global village.

What we would do is I would hold the master copy and sometimes work would have to stop for 24 hours because stuff was in the post, because the nightmare, the absolute nightmare which I knew would happen if we let it, was that somehow we’d end up with two master copies in existence with little, minute changes, and we’d never be able to spot which was which.

So the last thing we wanted was two master copies, and we worked on the phone who did what. I did a bit more than Neil, of that anyway. But, it also felt to me to be an awful lot of the glue that no one wanted to do because it was easy to do set piece scenes and written on a kind of, on the kind of plot somewhere you get A and B to F and X and Y across to C T. And that really is like 3000 words where you have to move people around and then,you know, shove extra bits in; so I ended up probably doing near 75% of the book.

I would probably say because it’s, because had we’ve done it any other way it would’ve been like three months longer to do.

Also part of the process from another interview with Terry Pratchett:

Q: Let's talk a bit about the book you collaborated with Neil Gaiman on: Good Omens. That was before email, so how did it work on a practical basis? What was the most challenging aspect of writing with someone else?

I'm sure what I have to say will echo what Neil has said. When two people work on a book, it isn't a case where each one does 50% of the work. Each one does 100% of the work. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are mine. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are Neil's. There are some bits which were Neil's idea which I wrote, and there are some bits which were my idea which Neil wrote. Some bits we no longer know exactly whose ideas they were, or who wrote them. By the time we'd gone through all the drafts, it had been written by some sort of composite entity. We wrote it in the 14th century. We each had one phone line and a 1200 baud modem. We'd work it out: "OK, you send, I'll receive." Sometimes it would take 20 minutes to half an hour before we could send the stuff. It would have been cheaper and easier to have rung each other up and sneezed out the text in Morse Code. I was the Keeper of the Disks. I insisted that there should only be one official version in existence at any time. The moment it split into two, we would be in dead trouble. But Neil would sometimes send me a disk with 2000 words, saying " This is the scene with so and so -- insert it here." It more or less worked. It took us about six weeks to do the first draft. I think it worked because, at the time, we were each making a name for ourselves in our respective fields. It's not that we didn't take it seriously. But we were relaxed. We thought we would earn some holiday money by doing it. The nice thing about collaborating is that there is one other person in the world who is thinking about the exact same thing that you are thinking about. We both have a similar reading background, I suppose. It was quite rare when one of us came up with something that the other guy didn't know about. So we could bounce ideas off one another quite easily.

[lowkeyremi]

𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘

pairing: k. bakugo x fem!reader summary: Your man's birthday is coming up! Time to set up the venue for the birthday boy! Uh oh... gotta keep it on the low, I think he might be on to you. content: fluff, established relationship, bakugo is nosy, little bit of swearing, mention of other characters (his friend group) (you can find the rest of the series here!) wc: 1k

"Shhhh!! Hurry up and bring the rest of the stuff out to the car." Kirishima and Kaminari can't seem to keep quiet while loading the rest of the supplies into the car for Katsuki's party. The two keep giggling and messing around.

"Sorry [name]! We'll be quieter!!" You highly doubt that because they said that the last two trips and if anything they've gotten louder. "Come on guys, we don't wanna give it away. You know how hard it is to actually surprise Katsuki." The boys know how much you've wanted to do this, so they quiet down and quickly take the rest of the party supplies to your car.

At this point it's almost like a challenge; to see if you can surprise him. His last two birthday parties you've tried to plan out were a major fail because Todoroki didn't understand the element of surprise and said, "Oh yeah, we're just getting everything ready for your party." and the other year he had threatened Mineta into telling him what you were plotting.

So, this year in order to keep it an actual secret, you had told very few people (kirishima, mina, sero, denki, and midoriya.) and sent Katsuki off to his parents to "enjoy his birthday with his family." His birthday isn't until a few more days but his parents were able to tire him out enough to keep him from asking questions or bothering you guys. he's currently in his room napping at 7pm.

"Alright, Sero, Can you read through the checklist once more to make sure we have everything?" Sero's quiet helpful, he'll be hanging up a lot of the decorations and what not. You had momo make a bunch of cool decorations yesterday while Katsuki was out with his parents and then sato baked a cake, that resides in the teacher's lounge thanks to Aizawa Sensei. You had also gotten the decorations that you and Mitsuki went out and bought a little while ago. She is such a big help and a huge part of why this whole plan is working.

Sero reads though the checklist and you give him a small "yeah" each time you see an item on the list.

"Okay I think that's everything let's go!"

In all honesty, Gym Gamma isn't that far away from the dorms, but carrying all of that stuff would have been a huge pain, which is why you're taking your car, with special permission from Aizawa of course.

When the six of your arrived at the gym you took charge of making sure the door was open for everyone to load everything in, and locking it behind you when everyone was inside.

Your teachers had already come up with some kind of white lie saying they were using the gym for some kind of new practice when in reality you're just setting up Katsuki's party.

So far everything's going according to plan, since Kirishima is probably the strongest one there he helps with setting up tables and moving them. While Denki sets up all the music equipment. (he, jiro, tokoyami and momo are going to play music)

Mina, being a natural leader is telling people where to put things, how high to hang up decorations and what not. She's really damn good at it too.

While you're in the trance your phone buzzes in your pocket and you hear the familiar ring tone of fireworks. When you and Katsuki started dating you set his ringtone to fireworks just to piss him off, and at first it did, but now he's just used to it.

"Hello?" In response you here a loud shuffling noise and a small grunt.

"Where the fuck are ya? Your location's off." If it were anyone else on the phone with him they probably would have thought Katsuki was being rude, but this is just how he is.

"Are you sure? I'm like 100% sure it's on." It's not. You know it's not. You aren't completely sure if he knows the gym is "off limits" because he crashed as soon as he got back. There's no way you're gonna risk it though because if he does know about the gym not being available he'll get suspicious of you being there.

"I'll check again, but I'm pretty sure it's off." His voice is groggy with sleep and he goes quiet while checking to see if you're location is on. While he's doing that you quickly mute your phone and yell out, "WHO'S NOT DOING ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?"

Midoriya is the first to respond, he runs right over to you ready to help.

"Listen, Izuku. I'm about to tell 'tsuki that i'm headed to my favorite book store on campus. I need you to take my phone and just kinda hang out there and if something goes wrong, like he tries to call just call one of the others so you can let me know, okay?" The green haired boy shakes his head furiously fast.

"I CAN DO IT!!" Even though you're slightly exhausted, Midoriya's energetic attitude does hype you up a bit.

You quickly unmute your phone, "Hey baby, I'm going down to the book store for a little while. I need to get this one book."

His bed creaks, indicating that he's just finally sat up in bed, "Alright, I'll meet ya there."

"I just need some time alone, please don't come by." You try your best to sound like you need space, because you know your boyfriend respects you and your space.

"Oh.. alright. If you want me to come get ya I will." Guilt slowly trickles through your stomach when you hear his voice drop into disappointment but you know it will all be worth it in the end.

"Love you Kats, I'll see you in a bit." The blond hums quietly in contentment.

"I love you too, be safe." With that he hangs up the phone.

Izuku quickly leaves with your phone to the book store and you + the others get back to work on decorating and making sure everything is organized.

"Okay guys! I think if we keep working at this pace we'll be done in thirty minutes or so." Everyone whoops in excitement.

It turns out you aren't the only one who wants to surprise Katsuki Bakugo.

day 1: you make a birthday gift for katsuki - @zanarkandskylines

day 2: you invite all of class 1-A to the party - @xbabyd0lli3x

day 3: shopping for decorations- @angels-fantasy

day 4: You make a present plan 2.0! - @starieq

💖 day 5: Decorating the venue for his birthday party ! @lowkeyremi

day 6: Baking the cake for his party - @queenpiranhadon

day 7: you and your classmates surprise him ! - @cashmoneyyysstuff

tag list: @gina239 @mystic60 @meowze4r @icedemon1314 @bigsimpo343 @ah-mya @whezdostuff @berry-vioo @seonne @slayfics @food8me @katsuisbaby @azzo0 @kit-katsukii @stoned-anime-babe @kukikoooo

orange = can't be tagged

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[ihavethedreamies]

Cherry | Juicy Fruit | Haechan

Lee Donghyuck (Haechan - NCT Dream)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.2k

Pairing: Haechan x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Couch Sex, Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: It all started with a cherry stem…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, but as you can see by the word count, that didn't happen.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

-> Series Hub <-

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍑 Jaemin 🍑

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Do cherries come from the same trees as the flowers?" Your boyfriend was holding one of the red fruits by the stem. It spun back and forth in the air with prompting from his finger tips, another one being chewed in his mouth. You could hear the pit clacking against his teeth as he sucked it clean.

"I don't think so…" You wondered what prompted the question, only briefly glancing up from your phone at him. You were sitting at your kitchen table to eat. You had been looking over the different delivery menus, spread across the surface and you were scrolling through your phone to see who was open. Not only was it past normal meal hours, which was normally not too much of an issue, it was some kind of political holiday that only old people cared about. The only problem was that most of the people that would make the food you wanted were said old people. It was also more of something for families, not young couples who did a lot of the baby-making practice but with not desired end product.

"Okay, this place is only open for fifteen more minutes so they're out." You took the noodle menu off the table, placing it on the discard stack.

"Anything else look good or do we need to go to the convenience store?" You asked and when he didn't reply, you slammed your hand down to get his attention. He startled and his wide eyes were really very cute, but you would never admit it out loud, even in private with just him. While you loved him to pieces, you were very reluctant to voice it. After trying to say he was annoying for so many years, you were loath to admit you didn't hate him. You never did, you were just in denial about how much you liked him despite your harsh words. He saw through it.

"Donghyuck!" You scolded and he blinked.

"What?" He emphasized the vowel, and you rolled your eyes. His shocked face softened to a smug grin as he watched you watch him put the next cherry in his mouth, the other pit still in his cheek. His tongue wrapped around the red orb as he took it between his lips, and you shook your head to pull your attention away. He huffed in amusement, you were such a tsundere.

"What are we having for supper? I only got snacks and stuff…" You poked the container holding the cherries. You had planned on eating out or getting delivery, but the stupid holiday interfered with your regular Saturday night plans.

"We could have each other." Donghyuck smirked, chewing the last bits of fruit off the pit before rolling the two around his open mouth playfully. He knew your eyes were not just on his face, but specifically his tongue. You swallowed hard and your eyebrows furrowed, mouth open to scold him again. He let the pits fall out of his mouth and onto the paper plate where the rest of them laid and his smug look turned bored.

"Idiot." You clicked your tongue, face pink, "I need actual food."

"Hm, you might, but I could just eat you?" He winked and your let out a disgusted grunt, getting up from the table and moving to leave the apartment and head down the street.

"(Y/N), wait!" He cooed at you, skipping to follow you. When you started to wiggle your foot to slip it into your sneaker, he kneeled down to tie his. You struggled to get the shoe on without untying it, so he leaned forward to help you get them on. The sweet gesture made your cheeks warm further, but you didn't say anything, so he helped you get the other on. He stood back up with a hop, still taller than you even though he was standing on the lowered part of the floor by the door.

"Ready, milady~?" He held his arm out for you to link with, but you just mumbled something and walked past him and out. Your boyfriend sighed dramatically but followed after you still. You always made up for your dismissive behavior after he railed you into the next morning, turning affectionate and playful. He continued to try and seduce you through the not subtle act of aegyo, and you kept shoving him away, especially as you walked down the road. Donghyuck held the door open for you as you entered the convenience store. The inside was just as dead as the streets, and it felt nearly surreal. You each shopped around a bit, and he got nearly twice as much food as you, and for some reason he felt the need to buy everything he could find that was cherry flavored.

"You know none of this stuff tastes like actual cherries, right?" you asked, watching him place the different candies and sweets down. The only thing you would actually consume was the cherry flavored cola he got as well.

"I know. That's what the actual cherries are for." He pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Not wanting to admit it even in your own head, the blank look he gave you was just as cute as everything else he did. It pissed you off a bit that he was so endearing. The tired cashier told you your price and your boyfriend had his card in the reader before you could even pull yours out. He took all of the bags as well and you opened the door for him that time.

"Did you need to buy all of that?" You grumbled, eyeing the five bags he was carrying.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Curiosity." He answered after donning a pondering look.

"Okay." You rolled your eyes, not caring enough to delve further into that line of questioning.

"Did you get everything cherry flavored?"

"Not everything…"

"What did you leave behind, cough syrup?"

"The condoms." He stated simply and you halted for a beat, then jogged to catch up.

"Why not?" You finally relented to ask. He tossed you a coy look, "they didn't have the right size." You halted a step but conceded his point and jogged to catch back up. When you finally got back to the apartment, he put the bags on the coffee table, and you grabbed your meal to heat it up in the microwave. As you plugged in the numbers, Hyuck came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle.

"What?" you asked flatly, and he whined pathetically, resting his cheek on the side of your head.

"Can't I hug my girlfriend?" You didn't reply to his question, so he took that as the go ahead to continue. As he smelled your food as it got done, he realized how famished he was and hurried to make his own. Some random variety show played on the TV while you both ate, he devoured twice as much food as you did in nearly half the time. Once you were both done and everything was cleaned up, he laid out all the cherry candies and snacks, as well as some real ones.

"We shall judge them for quality." He motioned broadly and you sat next to him at the coffee table. Hyuck was a bit surprised at how close you willingly sat, pressed to his side. You were warming up. You started to sort through them, pushing the ones you refused to try to the side.

"You need to have the full picture to make an informed decision." He told you with false condescension. He sniffed and picked up the first packet to rip it open. The fake cherry scent hit your nose and you sneered, reaching over the table to grab a real one. As you chewed, he started in on the candy and his face twisted, putting the bag down and grabbing a fruit himself. You pulled the pit from your mouth and set it on your napkin from supper and he did the same.

"Can you tie a knot with your tongue?" He held up one of the stems and you hummed.

"I don't know, I haven't tried." You took it from him, and he plucked another one off a cherry for himself.

"Let's see who can do it faster." He decided and you nodded in agreement and you both watched the other as you took the stems into your mouths. You focused hard, trying to maneuver the little piece with your tongue into the right configuration, but it was no use. When you almost choked on it, you pulled it out, nose crinkled.

"Nope." You turned to look at him and he stuck his tongue out at you, the tied stem resting on the surface

"How the heck!?" You grabbed the little stem from where it laid, looking it over.

"Want me to show you?" His tone had deepened, but you were too confused to register it.

"Yeah!" You turned to watch, not expecting his mouth to connect to yours. Your shocked inhalation allowed his tongue entry and you wanted to fight, but you also really didn't. Hyuck smirked into the kiss as you let out a tiny mewl, expertly twisting his tongue around yours. You moaned when he led you to straddle his lap, pushing the coffee table away with his foot. When you settled, his hands on your hips pushed you down, grinding your covered cunt over his hard cock. You whined, trying to pull back, but he held you still, sucking on your tongue so you couldn't easily pull back. He had a hard time not laughing when your entire body shuddered. Finally, he let you go, you leaned back, panting hard.

"Fucking hell-" Your fingers were clenching the fabric of his sweatshirt.

"I can do more than that~" He hummed playfully, and you blinked, "huh?" Your noise of question was followed by a yelp as he lifted you, setting you on the couch behind him, turning to he faced you. Another tug brought your butt to the edge of the cushion, and he took advantage of your surprise to yank your shorts and panties off without hinderance.

"H-Hyuck~!" You whimpered when he instantly brought his skillful tongue to your cunt, wriggling it inside, nose hitting your clit. You sighed shakily, legs twitching when he hummed, the vibration ringing through him to you.

"Wait-" You tried to get him to stop, extremely embarrassed at your position and feeling weird about how fast he was bringing you to climax. You shuddered again as his tongue left your core, stroking up through your folds to flick your clit. Your eyes were closed, so you didn't see his stupid grin right before he sucked on your clit hard. Hyuck's hands flew to your hips to hold them down as you came, helping you ride it out.

"Too bad I can't pop your cherry…" He mumbled, a little embarrassed at his stupid pun. You huffed in disbelief, having heard him perfectly fine even though he kind of hid it.

"Doesn't fucking matter, get inside me-" he had never heard you so impatient, but he was more than willing to abide. He removed your top as you helped him get rid of his own clothes, and your back barely hit the couch cushions before he was pressing into you. Even if you hadn't just came on his tongue, you were soaking wet, your gummy walls clenching desperately to his cock.

"Aw~ sweet girl~" He huffed in delight as your cunt quivered, getting used to the stretch and before you were fully acclimated, he started to move.

"Wait, Hyuck!" Your hands grabbed his shoulders. When he leaned over you move, he took your hands from him, holding them above your head with one of his. His lips hovered over yours, hips rolling slowly but hard, fat cock battering your back wall. You practically cried when he kissed you again, tongue reentering your mouth to capture yours. You were helpless under him, sanity quickly leaving between his cock in your cunt and his tongue down your throat. When air was getting a bit low, he finally removed his mouth from yours, moving it to your jaw and down the column of your throat. You whimpered with each thrust, getting steadily faster and harder as he sucked your skin. His goal was to make the hickeys are red as the cherries you both had been eating earlier.

"Hyuck, I~" You couldn't get the rest of your sentence out. His hand had let go of your wrists, both of them going to your waist so he could shift positions. He sat back up move, hiking your hips up to arch your back and after an extremely practiced and hard thrust, he chuckled as you came again. He groaned at the tight flutter of your walls and couldn't help but fall over the edge himself. You whimpered when he finally let your legs and hips relax, not pulling out of you yet. With a tired gaze, you watched him reach and grab a bottle you hadn't noticed before from the coffee table, barely within reach. He popped the cap on the red container, an equally red substance spilling out and dripping over your skin. You shivered at the cold, and he licked his lips.

"Hmm… cherry flavored (Y/N)~"

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

[moonshynecybin]

Hi, new to motogp and i’m a sucker for friends to enemies to lovers and relationships drama and pain so obviously i love marc/vale, i am also think marc is fascinating, but I haven’t found much info detailed info vale’s smear campaign against him/his media savvyness/his entire personality, like i think i grasp the bare bones but, are there any tumblr essay that are required reading to you? Also any good posts about this arm injury (aside for the documentary that i will be watching this weekend)

i love arm. ummmm his documentary is pretty much the story. like the central conceit/plot of the whole damn thing is to chart this latest operation on the injury he sustained in jerez 2020 its GONNA give you most of the information on that. now, that being said. marc is a liar sometimes, so i'm gonna try and gather some resources that might give a better idea on where his arm is NOW, because its something he kind of contradicts himself about !

simon patterson interview with The Race podcast: shockingly candid tbh. i think lil homie was having a bit of a crisis. standing on the edge of a cliff facing down possibly the end of his career. what if the move to gresini sucks ass kinda moment. couching his chances this year pretty aggressively. he ALSO says some stuff about how fucked up his arm still is that hes since tried to mildly walk back cuz hes funny. anyways because im insane i transcribed it:

SP: Did you have to switch teams this season? Did you have to change to something that gave you more of a chance to win after the last few years after how difficult everything has been? MM: Yeah, of course if I change teams its because it was something that I need. And yeah, of course it was a risky movement, but at the same time it was a movement thinking on my career, not on results in a short time. Its like thinking if I have the motivation, if I’m competitive again. You know, I had— three years ago, four years ago I had a very big injury, a hard injury in the arm. And yeah, now its working well, but still is not— I mean its the arm that you open four times. If you ask to a doctor, of course its performing in a good way, but its not the same arm. But I have many question marks inside my head. So, the best way to answer to myself is— do what I want. And yeah, its a risky movement. Why? Because the comfortable movement is to stay where I was, with my people, with my friends, with a big salary, the project. But I decided to jump to a new project and at the moment we will see if I can answer the many questions that I have. SP: It sounds like the reason you did it, the questions you have to answer are all for yourself. It's not about– MM: No, no no no– it's just for me. Because for me— I say many times in my interviews— if I don't feel competitive– and competitive doesn't mean win or win, it means be in that top five top six, and yeah five four podiums, five four victories. Win a championship is super difficult. And especially it becomes more and more difficult when the years are passing and the younger [people] are coming. So the life is the life and every athlete has his moment, and then step by step it goes down. But yeah I need to feel again competitive to continue with my career.  Especially these last four years, has been, I mean– has been a nightmare, but is like it has passed super quick. The other years I was competing. I mean in the last four years I’ve completed half the championship, because I had many injuries, so now I need to find this stability, this pace. To start to create again a good base to fight for some races to the top positions— this is my intention. But to fight for the championship? This is something that still I’m not ready for. SP: You said that you learned a lot, during all of this. Is there things that have made you better? Are there things that youre gonna come back now with like new skills because of the experience? MM: No. I will not be better than before. Because– Yeah, maybe I have more experience, but before I was 100% in physical condition, and I was fresh. People say ‘No, he will come back stronger.’ When you have an injury, of course it's— injury is an injury. When you have an injury like two, three years, you lose the rhythm, you lose the feeling sometimes. And then it's super difficult to repeat all those things. But especially because your body— I mean they say the body is super smart, it can adapt. The body is super smart to adapt to new things, but it also is smart to remember what’s going on there. So yeah. I will be different, maybe— but not better.

theres also this similar quote from jan 2023:

theres also this recent statement from mat oxley talking about his arm and his sort of. show no weakness when it can be used against you philosophy

SO. following with that observation. he's started also kinda. being more noncommittal and vague in interviews/presscons now that he senses blood in the water. show no weakness expose no underbelly type stuff. so theres this in preseason which is actually around the same time as the patterson interview where he's still couching it a bit but hes also very adamant that his arm is working:

and then the BIG change comes around mugello this year, when he was fishing HARD for that ducati 2025 seat and changed his tune uh. QUITE a bit:

finally just some posts psychoanalyzing his ass about arm/injury, MOST of which are fairly recent. here, here, here, here, here, and here. ive also aggregated some recs for content good for learning about him in general here! go with god

[sunflowerandstrawberryspice]

CARMEN SANDIEGO? In 2024? It's more likely thank you think! Please excuse the shit quality for some reason I wasn't allowed to upload the normal pdf and I had to upload a fucking screenshot???

So my friend convinced me to watch Carmen Sandiego and since he's watching ALL of Ninjago for me I thought it was the least I could do to watch four season of a show with a pretty decent concept but uh... yeesh, don't get me wrong the show is really fun but lord have mercy does it have problems especially the last two seasons which were just so wildly disappointing to me. It went from a show with an interesting look on morals to pure pro-cop and mostly black and white thinking so quick (that not mentioning the breaking up a found family full of people with abandonment issues) it was honestly just so disappointing so me and the friend who introduced it to me decided to rewrite it! (I will not be animating nor do I plan on doing more than MAYBE a comic or art piece here and there because my chronic pain ridden ass can not handle that much lol)

The main goals are to:

1) Flesh out characters that aren't Carmen and actually give them reactions based on their lived experiences and how they might realistically react instead of what the show needed to move the plot along

2) Having characters other than Carmen be actually relevant to the plot the main one being Chase Devineaux who we're gonna kind of have as a parallel to Carmen (trust me yall) as kind of a "What if Carmen didn't have her friends/family to ground her and fall back on" but for all the Chase fans out there (gods I hope there's some other than me) he will be getting a happy ending but bro is getting put through the RINGER first

3) Have both A.C.M.E (now standing for Administration for Containing and Monitoring Evil) and V.I.L.E be the bad guys. Also just as an extra bit of fun we're making VILE a full blown cult, they were very cult like in the show so we're just gonna make it one. Both are going to be very morally questionable and while it'll take a bit longer for ACME to show it's true colors don't you worry they definitely will ;)

4) We're doing canonical lgbtq+ rep, I know the show teased a lot of relationships and really only gave yall background gays not to say thats bad but we can do better than just a brief shot of a damn taco truck. I mean like come on in a story about a young woman going against the government for the greater good why not put some rep into it ya know!

5) We're making it light sci-fi, not like SUPER high tech but definitely beyond what we've got currently, as shown with Carmen's prosthetic, and don't worry I'm doing my research as a disabled person I know how it feels to be misrepresented or ignored so I want to make sure I'm being realistic

6) PLAYER ISN'T GOING TO BE A CHILD! I don't know if this bothered anybody else but to me it was really weird that this 16 year old's only friends were in their 20s!

Alright I think that's what I'm gonna say for now, I'd love it if yall tuned in for updates if your curious since this is a passion project for me and my friend and we're having a blast writing it!

As always I am still working on stuff for Ninjago cause I could never abandon my one true love, currently there's a Pixal drawing in progress (it's giving me hell T-T) something for Cole and Geo, and something of Sora MAYBE even Euphrasia if I'm feeling up to it.

Having said that I hope yall have a great day/night and PEACE OUT!

[chocostrwberry]

Helloooo I know I just commented on one of your posts (The marichat one tbh) and right after that I saw the akumatized Marinette/Princess justice and stuff and I couldn't help but ask myself a million questions all in a minisecond but I thought who would it be better to overthink these questions with than the creator?? So I just really wanted to ask

How does Chat Noir react to figuring out that Marinette is princess justice (if not that he already knew she was princess justice)?? Does Marinette have this thing for Chat noir where she doesn't necessarily harm him, just more like, try to dodge him?? Or does she attack?? Like in copycat when Copycat didn't harm Ladybug , but targeted Chat noir

Also, does Chat Noir knowing that Marinette is princess justice affect his way of combating/fighting ?? Does he try to stop her or talk some sense into her to convince her to unakumatize herself ??? ALSOO ONE LAST QUESTION, DOES SCARABELLA NOTICE MAYBE (if Chat Noir does indeed dodge the fighting style and stuff) HE'S NOT FIGHTING??

ALR ALR

I’ve been thinking about this because I’m still trying to get the “plot” for this episode done right, but IF he finds out Marinette has been Akumatized:

HE’LL BE LIKE,, really concerned for her?? Like he would try to comfort her but since he doesn’t know her all that well it’ll end up flopping a bit. But he’s lowkey trying to charm/flirt with her EVEN THOUGH she’s Akumatized to snap her out of it

Unfortunately since she’s been Akumatized based on angry emotions, she’s very hostile towards both of them. Kind of blinded by rage. But he does do this cute thing where he dances with her in the middle of the battle instead of fighting and she’s caught off-guard 😼

SCARABELLA FS NOTICES LMAOO, she’s highkey pressed he’s not fighting this akuma either while she’s getting whooped. She doesn’t realize it’s Marinette though until after she’s been rescued.

Marinette probably breaks into tears and apologize to Chat Noir and he’s like “you’re good it happens to the best of us” and super kind but he doesn’t understand that she’s apologizing because she’s Ladybug and let herself be Akumatized and she couldn’t be there to help him so he had to deal with it on his own.

[byuntrash101]

preview: first flight to hong kong

pairing: sub!reader x ot8!ateez

synopsis: you're suprised when your company offers you a vacant spot in the vip crew. you're even more surprised to discover what kind of service your company provides the vips

tags preview: idol!au, a tad bit of plot, kink negotiation, color system safe words, flightattendant!reader, dom!ateez (some are gentle some are meanies depends on the member), gangbang, oral (f & m), multiple orgasms (f), cum play (more to be revealed in the full version)

word count: 18k (preview is 0.7k)

link to full fic

a/n: tell me if u wanna be tagged <3. also this is taking place right after the last show in paris.

But when everyone is served with either a cool refreshing soda or a warm cup of coffee you can't stall any longer. You have to address the elephant in the room. You intend do it as you would discuss any other subject. You just have to stay very professional. 

You seat yourself in front of all of them and grab a clipboard, a piece of paper and a bullpen. You cross your legs sideways, your skirt ever so slightly curling up your thighs, just enough to hint away at the white lace of your thigh high tights. Instantly their chatter dies down and you find yourself under the scrutinizing gaze of the eight men. 

"Now for the VIP service.” You speak as confidently as you can. “The form stipulated that the preferences were to be discussed with the hostess. Is there any particular request you'd like to make? Any preference you'd like to share?" 

"I think it would be more efficient to know what is off limits." The blonde one spoke. From what you saw online. That was the leader of the group, Hongjoong. 

You stayed completely silent, dumbfounded by the sudden change of dynamic. The client is supposed to state what they require from you and you are supposed to do everything in your power to fulfill their wish. 

"What are the no go's for you, sweetheart?" On another question when you failed to provide an answer in a normal, reasonable time frame. That one looked carved in marble, he had delicate features that looked hand crafted to perfection, beautiful long raven black hair resting on his shoulders which you could guess were muscular even under the thick black hoodie he was wearing. 

The pet name somehow made your toes tingle, sparking nervousness in your stomach again. 

"I don't know the usual" you replied and immediately followed by an awkward laugh. Hongjoong smiled at you, maybe picking up on the nervousness showing through your micro habits. 

"What about submissive/dominant dynamics?" The blonde man kindly asked, hinting on how to answer. "Would you be fine submitting to us?" 

At the question the tingles in your toes rose in your legs. To properly answer the question you had to imagine yourself kneeling before the eight men and the thought alone made your guts stir in something that wasn't just stress. You swiped your tongue on your lower lip in an attempt to pull you out of your thoughts. 

"Yes, that would be fine" you replied as plainly as possible. You spotted one of them smirk from the corner of your eyes. That one was also particularly handsome. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were piercing holes in you. The smirk grew bigger when you made eye contact with him as he was rubbing his chin with his index finger that was decorated by a simple elegant gold ring. 

"What about impact and pain play?" Another one asked. This one looked the tallest among all of them, even with all of them seated you could tell by how his legs bent, his knees sitting higher than the others. His face looked the softest among all of them so much that it was hard to believe he could ask such a question with this benevolent expression on his face. 

"'Like spanking?" You manage to ask without squeaking or stuttering. Which was a miracle in itself.

"Yes, like spanking, slapping, pinching, hair pulling... All that good stuff." The tall one continues. 

"What do you say, doll? Would you like us to hurt you?" Hongjoong adds. 

You bite your bottom lip as you feel your insides quiver. Only managing to give a shy nod to the question. 

"Use your words, princess" another one intervened. This one seemed to be more mature than the others, he also had dark hair, long parted bangs tickling his lashes.

"Y-yes... that would be fine." You gulped.

a/n: FEEDBACK IS SO GREATLY APPRECIATED <3333. im so excited to publish this soon!!!!! ive been working on it for so long! if you want to be tagged tell me <3

[beauty-and-passion]

This is going to sound really strange but the most recent GRWM video has. Some of the best Janus characterisation I think we’ve seen in a while?? Also he canonically sheds now, so

You are not wrong, anon: this is the best characterization in a while. It's way better than the last one, in which Janus was mostly a drunk idiot, and it's way worse than SvS. This one sits in the middle: it's not bad, it's not amazing. It's good.

Just like Mr. Sanders' last videos regarding Sanders Sides, this GRWM is okay. Not groundbreaking, not impressive, not deep, not stupid. Just okay.

And trust me, this is the best possible outcome! When I found out Thomas was planning a video with Janus and it was a GRWM and Janus had questions to answer... I wasn't just scared, oh no. I was absolutely terrified. I feared to see the destruction of Janus' character. I feared to see him being all like: "YASSS QUEEN all I love is WINE and nothing else, also being SASSY is my religion BIATCH".

And we got a bit of that, sure. But it was a bit, not the avalanche I expected. I was bearable.

After all, this is just a random video. There's nothing plot-related here. Heck, there's not even too much Sanders Sides stuff, because this GRWM clearly was Thomas' attempts to reconnect with the character. I shouldn't care too much about it. I shouldn't overanalyze it.

But you know me: you know I love to over-analyze. And if you know me, you also know that Remus is my favorite child, but Janus has a special place in my heart and if one little thing about him is off I will start rambling.

Hence why I will overanalyze the shit out of these 9 minutes of a video and I will do what I shouldn't do, i.e. look back into the past's characterization. Not for shaming Mr. Sanders for not remembering it (even if the videos still exist and he can watch them too if he wants), but to remind you all of Janus' personality. The public needs to remember what kind of character he was and who he became.

So I'll over-analyze everything and no, you can't escape. You're stuck with me here, so put your seatbelt on, because you're in for one of the things I love the most: talking about Janus.

The importance of nuance

Let's talk about make-up a little bit. Don't worry, by the end you will understand my point.

The current make-up isn't even comparable to the past one. And if a lot of people complain about it and prefer the old one, it's not because they're all demanding: it's because of nuances.

Let me explain and let's start with the current photo Mr. Sanders showed to promote the GRWM video:

If you look at this make-up, your eyes will inevitably be drawn towards that sharp black line. And as soon as you will look at it, you will immediately register it as a drawn line.

It's so clear and so evident it's a line, I can literally see the black liquid eyeliner, the tip and the hand tracing that line on Thomas' skin.

But this line isn't supposed to be a line: it's supposed to be/resemble a snake's mouth.

Now, look at the past make-up:

The line isn't sharp black: the line is nuanced. You can see a bit of brown and a hint of red/pink to give it depth and emphasize the shadow.

Also, this color is very similar to the little shadow given by Thomas' upper lip on the lower one, so it looks more natural against his skin tone. It doesn't seem like something added on him, but on something that was already part of him. And isn't that the goal of make-up? To add something and disappear, so people won't notice it exists in the first place?

Look at the eye as well: the past one is a softer, more nuanced pink. It looks more natural, against Thomas' skin tone. The present one is so dark, it looks more like a bad bruise.

So the problem with the current make-up isn't just that the colors aren't the same: it's that the current colors are too much. They're too sharp, too saturated and, consequently, too fake. It's clear that Thomas wears make-up, while in the past the blend was softer, the colors closer to Thomas' actual complexion. Consequently, the make-up faded and gave us an illusion of reality.

I know Mr. Sanders had skin conditions and everything, but I'm talking about colors and nuances here. Two things a make-up artist should know better than me, an idiot on the Internet who loves art, color theory and learns from artists on the web. You can obtain these things independently of the used products.

So my opinion on the make-up would be: please Mr. Sanders, switch for softer tones, no sharp black and no coral. Too much. Nuance is the key.

And not just for make-up.

---

The fakeness of reality tv

Janus enjoys reality television because nothing about it is real. His specific words are:

I very much enjoy reality television: the scheming, the plotting, the lying. Every person for himself and even on top of that, all of the production none of reality television is actually real. It's just delightful.

I get the idea behind it and I understand why Thomas thought it was a good choice. On paper, it works: Janus should enjoy this kind of show because it's made of lies and he's Deceit.

But if I follow this line of thought, I inevitably meet with Janus from Into the Unknown:

[Patton]: Well yeah I guess you'd like it, everyone all dressed up, disguised as someone else... [Janus]: How is it we've had so many of these visits and you still know so little about me?

Janus himself said that not everything associated with lies is something he enjoys. And it makes sense, because Logan too said the same thing in the last Aside:

"Is that all I am to you? The reading guy?"

So now I'm asking: why does he like reality tv? Just because it's fake? Then why is he so happy about it being fake? Reality tv should represent reality, it should mirror how society works. And thanks to SvS, we know Janus doesn't hold society into high consideration:

[Deceit]: Society itself is a lie! (...) You get enough people to share a piece of land and breathe the same air and... you've got a society. Why? It's just a bunch of people in the same general area. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed! But we obey these rules or get punished for breaking them. All in the name of society. It's absurd and terrifying.

Just like society, reality tv has a group of people put together and they make a society. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed. And these people must obey the rules or get punished for breaking them.

And yet, Janus doesn't think reality tv is "absurd and terrifying", but "delightful".

Again: why does he like it? Why does he like something so similar to what he hates most?

Maybe you can live with the "It's fake" explanation and that's good for you. But what if instead of liking reality tv because "it's fake", Janus likes it, because it perfectly mirrors the flaws and the emptiness of society? What if he enjoys it, because he loves the irony of society using its own means to unmask itself and show its real face? What if he watches it, not because "it's delightful", but because it's bittersweet to see such an inability to understand your own flaws?

Which explanation do you think is more fitting for his character?

---

Remus eats glue sticks

Of course he does. His digestive system is probably able to digest molten lava, so glue sticks are a walk in the park for him, bless his chaotic soul <3

(Have I already said Remus is my favorite boi?)

---

The possibilities of shedding

Okay, the "Have you considered not having pores?" is hilarious and I love it on multiple levels.

Well, here we are. Janus sheds, two to four times a year. And I know the fandom went crazy over this and I'm happy for you... but I never really cared too much about it.

I mean: it's fine, but I can't really think of anything truly special to headcanon about it. Snakes shed their skin all the time and they just chill around, while slowly peeling their skin off. It's not dangerous, it doesn't hurt, it's just exfoliation time✨. I mean, does it hurt you, when you remove sunburnt skin? Don't think so. The worst thing for snakes is probably not being able to take the skin off with hands, since they don't have hands.

But hey, this is canon now, so I should probably integrate it in my headcanon. And I can do it in two different ways:

The shedding is just part of Janus' routine: twice a year he gets one day off, takes a reeeeally long bath and slowly peels off his skin until he's done.

I can take inspiration from this fanart and imagine the shedding as a real "leaving your body behind" process, in which Janus slowly gets submerged into his room and re-emerges as a form of pure power and instincts, which then solidifies into a new body. I think I like this idea more, because when I go with Janus, I need something that makes him look either more god-like or more monster-like.

And since we're talking about snake traits, how many more does he have? Because I already added a few on my list, like:

sunbathing

climbing trees

laying everywhere (especially on trees)

taking long relaxing baths

And I'm just waiting for an excuse to add "mating". But I suppose only future will tell.

---

What you don't like

"An important aspect of being oneself, in addition to knowing what you like, is knowing what you don't like and saying to that thing: ew get away from me, I don't like you... Roman"

Okay, that was genuinely funny and it made me smile, so kudos for that, Mr. Sanders. It was a clever move and I enjoyed it.

Also, for more reasons I will explain further down, this makes me want to write a conversation between Janus and Roman, to study how they work together, why they don't like each other and their personalities in general. My only problem would be to put it on a timeline, because I don't like to write things suspended in a temporal vacuum. If inspiration strikes, maybe I'll do it.

---

Religion... and self-preservation

Now, I don't know who made that question about Jesus Christ, but you. You. You gave me real fear... but also indirectly confirmed one of my headcanons, so thank you, I suppose.

I was bracing myself, waiting and hoping Thomas didn't say anything stupid, because Janus and religion have a super tight bond and one misstep can lead to me rambling for the rest of my life, all while throwing canon into the trash because no one can say anything wrong about the relationship Janus has with religion, not even Mr. Sanders.

But the answer was... okay. Harmless. A bit simplistic, maybe, but I can accept Janus saying that Jesus is cool for having followers and turning water into wine.

What really struck me the most was when he said Jesus is his style because "he refuses to die".

For me, that's the most important part of the video. You can take away everything else, because this is the only part that matters for me.

Why? Because this is the essence of self-preservation. Because, as I said in the past, self-preservation is that force that protects you from dangers, threats, even yourself. And it protects you from death. It's part of that intrinsic will to live that defines all living creatures.

So, since Janus encompasses this role too, it has always been implied (at least for me) that he's that force that will fight against death until the end, just to make Thomas live a little longer. In my headcanon, he literally refuses to think Thomas can die before his time, because he's built to not make this happen.

Hence why when I saw Janus putting such emphasis on the idea that Jesus refuses to die made me immensely happy, because it's (implied) canon. Janus refuses to die, because he will never surrender to death. Because it's his nature, to never surrender to it.

---

Deceit or Ego?

The snake telepathy part was fun when mentioned, then it was followed by the "memememe I'm gorgeous" part, which is perfect if you're the representation of Ego, a bit less if you're deceit.

Speaking of that, I think there's a bit of confusion in Thomas' mind regarding these two aspects. And since they're represented by two different Sides, the contrast is even more jarring.

Janus is confident and this is part of his personality. But confidence isn't repeating "me" in your head 400 times and telling yourself that you're gorgeous and handsome even when sitting still. This isn't confidence, this is Ego. This is something Roman could say to himself... and he did it, in the past. He looked at himself all the time, called himself gorgeous, asked if his makeup was okay because the prince's gonna slay, said he dramatically serenaded himself in front of the mirror. All these things are a constant reconfirmation of yourself and this is what the Ego does: it constantly reconfirms you're great and cool and gorgeous.

Confidence, on the other hand, doesn't need constant confirmations. If you're confident, you already know you're great, you don't need to repeat it yourself. You just do your things and if others criticize you, you shrug their reprimands off.

One example of confidence from this video? This part:

"What are my guilty pleasures?" Guilty pleasures? Why would a pleasure be guilty? I've got none of those. Indulge in your pleasures guilt-free, people: life is short.

This proves Janus is confident, WAY MORE than him repeating how cool he is. This is the tone he should've had for most of the video, not that "Oh, look at how cool I am".

Also because it may seem a paradox, but the more you repeat how cool you are, the less people will believe you. That's why people who constantly show off are perceived as weak and insecure: because they search for a constant reconfirmation they would probably never need, if they were truly confident.

---

All of the selfcare - and what else?

Aside from the things I already mentioned, the rest of the video is mostly made of advice like "your opinion is the only one that matters/others are less than you/don't give a shit about others".

I don't know if this is Mr. Sanders making a reminder to himself to not indulge in criticism too much, but okay, let's ignore it XD

These pieces of advice can all be traced back to another aspect of Janus' personality: the self-care one. The last canonical one.

And since it's the last, I can understand why Thomas latched onto it and made it be like 60% of the video. It's probably the part of Janus' character he remembers the most.

And it's the easiest too, along with the "sassy" aspect. Put them together and you get the sassy queen who tells you to relax dear, don't give a fuck about the rest of the world.

So I understand you, anon, when you say this is the best characterization in a while: it is, because it's based on the last canonical piece of Janus' character, mixed with the "sassy" aspect that developed more recently. Of course it seems more coherent with Janus' character, compared to him being drunk for an entire video.

But even if canonical, self-care is just an aspect of Janus' personality and it makes most of the video. The remaining part is a huge amount of Ego, which shouldn't even be here, because it's Roman's trait.

And the other aspects? Nowhere to be seen. No distaste for society, no cryptic language, no wittiness, barely any lie, barely any real confidence, barely any body language and zero foreseeing ability.

I know what you're thinking and yes, I said at the beginning that this video is clearly just a way for Mr. Sanders to reconnect with the character. So I understand why Janus' personality is like that and that there are mistakes or incomplete things. I am not blaming Thomas for trying.

I am writing this post, to remind you Janus' full personality. To remind you that he's not just "sassy wine aunt/self-care queen".

On the contrary, I think present Janus is exactly like his make-up: the traits are similar to the original one, but the aspects are too sharp. They should be here, they are part of him, but they're not in the exact shade or nuance to be him. They are similar, but off, because something is missing. And that something is nuance.

In the end, that's what this post is all about: nuance. Past Janus was more nuanced, because he was more than one aspect. Present Janus is less nuanced, because he's stuck between two aspects - which is a truly cruel irony, considering his entire thing is being a gray, multifaceted character.

My only hope is that, just like with the make-up, Mr. Sanders will find a way to bring nuances back into Janus' character and make him at least similar to who he used to be.

[the-lark-ascending69]

I'm sorry but I have a very real problem with Vickie as a character. A fan-favorite character is revealed to be queer in the previous season and gets a love interest shaped appendix with no plot relevance or personality, created only to be Robin's trophy girlfriend, in a way that is so painfully and obviously different from how they did it when they tried to make a new character entirely to give her a love story with an already existing main character.

I'm talking about Robin herself, and how, despite not having the deepest character arc in S3, she still had some meat on her bones. She still had some stuff to work with. She was actually important and involved with the plot and had real chemistry with her would-be love interest, Steve. Making her a lesbian at last second pretty much saved both her and Steve's characters and made the Scoops subplot, the only redeemable subplot of S3, actually salvageable. By recontextualizing Stobin with that revelation, you go from a forced, heteronormative/amatonormative "love story" with mysoginistic undertones (because what are frmale characters if not trophy wives for male characters!) and 1) you give Robin actual stuff in her life that has nothing to do with Steve, turning her into a real character on her own, yet also shows why their friendship is so valuable to her, giving her a mini-arc in the process about overcoming isolation, alienation and loneliness, and 2) you wrap up Steve's arc the way his character clearly needs to be wrapped up - by moving on from his immature pursuits of women as romantic/sexual fulfillment and his highschool persona constructed on that, and embracing maturity by working on himself with the help of the people who challenge him the most, his platonic bonds (Dustin and Robin). Like I'm being 100% serious when I say making Robin a lesbian somewhat saved season 3.

But you can tell the brilliance of that move did NOT come from the Duffers' mastermind because they couldn't even attempt to replicate their unexpected success with Robin and Vickie. Because even before Robin was made into a lesbian, she still had SOMETHING. Vickie has nothing. She's a non-character. And it's interesting to note the difference in treatment when it comes to straight male characters vs. queer female characters. You can make the case that Max's introduction in S2 followed a similar pattern to beta!Stobin - new character paired up with pre-existing character. But you wouldn't say Max was added just to give Lucas a girlfriend, because even if her plot relevance in S2 was rather lackluster, she still had... so much more than even Robin in S3, and she's simply uncomparable to Vickie. She feels like her own person right from the start. We know the Duffers like to add wayy to many characters, making the show feel crowded and inevitably leaving a few characters behind, but when they add new characters in a given season, they're actually pretty good at making us fall in love with them quickly. Max, Robin, Eddie, hell even Billy if you're into that - like I said before, there's always some work that goes into them that makes you care about them.

Sure, there are less important characters that don't get half the effort put into them - Heather, Benny, idk, Barb's parents? And many others I can't remember right now. Not every character needs to be a fan-favorite.

But none of these guys were a main character's love interest. Not even for like, a second-row main character like Robin. Lucas gets a girl and she gets proper character development. Steve was originally intended to get a girl and she gets plot relevance, screentime and charisma (and a bit of character development pre-coming out too). Robin gets a girl and... it seems like Robin and her girl don't matter that much.

Which makes me question, why give Robin a love interest at all if they weren't going to do anything about it. My guess is that, well, she's a lesbian, so of course she gets to kiss girls. Character arc? What is that? Just watch her gush over a girl without last name and not care about anything else for most of the season. The writers just didn't know what to do with her now that she's no longer gonna be Steve's trophy girlfriend. Just throw in a poorly put together gay subplot, because everyone knows gay people only get to kiss other gay people and there's nothing else about the lesbian experience worth talking about (like, idk, the loneliness? The alienation?). I'm of the belief that, if you're gonna half-ass it, don't write a romantic subplot at all, regardless of the characters' genders and sexuality. But what bothers me isn't a shitty romantic subplot. It's the difference in treatment that the queer characters get vs. their straight counterparts.

And it bothers me because it could have been fixed SO easily! You get three options:

Give Robin a character arc that's not a romantic subplot. That doesn't mean she doesn't get to have a crush, but it should be in the background. My idea would be to make it about her, Nancy and Barb, and their old friendship + Robin's sense of alienation. Robin learning the truth about Barb's death, and her and Nancy helping each other heal. Robin and Nancy becoming friends through long conversations about their feelings, through which Nancy gets a sort of "second chance" at having a friend again and Robin gets to connect with someone who initially hated her in her own special way. The point is to not make r0vickie obviously endgame, EVEN if it turns out to be that way next season, because if it's obviously endgame it suddenly begs for a deeper development and the lack of it becomes a problem. An easy solution would be to give Robin multiple crushes, to signal at how unserious they all are at the moment.

Give Robin a love story with a newly introduced main character. And the obvious option is *rolls drums" genderbent Eddie! Or Vickie in Eddie's place. Best and easiest solution imo. It may sound weird but if you think about it, it all makes sense - plot relevance, character development... only problem would be killing your gays if you squint, though Robin would be alive and ready for a new character arc next season, as a changed person. Sad, angry, possibly seeking revenge and seeking to assert herself as a threat after hiding and running her entire life. Robin's feelings are suddenly plot relevant now. I'm picking Eddie here (or rather, his role) because he's the most important one out if all the new S4 characters, and the one that spends time with the group the most. It's clean, minimalistic and practical.

Give Robin a love story with a pre-existing main character, i.e Nancy. As a ronance shipper, I maintain that pairing up Nancy and Robin would have been original and unexpected in the best way. I feel like I don't even need to explain why this would have been a good idea - tons of people already have. Mostly, I want to lament the impossibility of this option, which links directly to the point I'm trying to make.

Robin was never going to be paired with a main-main character, old or new, because queer relationships on-screen need to be pushed to the sides as to not interfere with or threaten the straight main characters. Nancy, as the main girl, was never going to get a romance with a girl. Vickie was never going to get the centrality that Eddie got. Straight relationships get to be taken seriously, even if they're writen stupidly, like whatever the fuck happened with stancy and jancy in S4. Queer relationships don't get to be more than silly forgettable subplots. Queer characters like Robin need to be inobtrusive. She could never fall in love with Nancy, even if one-sided-ly, because that would create a conflict straight audiences don't want to see.

And if a queer character DOES fall in love with a main straight character, like Will, it's all meant for pointless suffering. Not the kind of suffering that's vital for a character arc, or the kind that gives depth to a character. It's not a kind of suffering that leads them to change, to take any given decisions that they wouldn't otherwise have taken. It's not a suffering that could possibly interfere with the straight main couple's happiness. It's not a pain that causes conflict. Queer love and pain doesn't get to be part of the conflict in straight-dominated stories. So Robin can never fall in love with someone from the front-row sphere and Will suffers pointlessly, even though that pain has no real effect on him.

[corkinavoid]

Fiance to a Star News

I have given up on trying to force myself to keep working on it. But, hold on, it doesn't mean I'm abandoning it.

I'm looking for a beta/editor/co-author, I'm really not sure what to call it. Let me explain this a bit.

[Update: help found! Thank you!]

I've written that fic in its entirety almost six months ago, in my native language. Then, when I decided to post it, I ran it all through Google Translate. Which is great at translating things word for word in their literal meaning, but not great for sentence structure, idioms, and some minor grammar mishaps. So, since I've posted the first chapter, I've been tideously going through every sentence and either correcting or rewriting it while keeping the meaning.

I am now in the middle of chapter four, and I'm officially so done with it that I'm starting to think about just deleting it all. Which would be a great waste since I do still love that fic.

So I'm looking for someone to help me out here.

More explanations and stuff under the cut.

Let me first show you what I mean by helping me out:

Example of what the text is now:

Tim is silent for a while. The prospects are clearly not rosy, and he, to be honest, doesn’t really understand what to do next. Until now, all he had thought about was how to get out of here, so now that that possibility was gone, he just...

While it is understandable enough, it is not exactly good sentence-structure and grammar wise. Also, it's as plain as white bread.

Example of what the text should (to my best abilities) look like:

Tim pauses, taken aback. The situation does not look very promising, and, if he is being honest, he has no idea of what to do now. Until this moment, all he had thought about was how to get out of the woods. But now that it was not happening and the last chances of escape have all slipped through his fingers, he just...

You see what I mean?

It's extra confusing for myself since when I see the unedited text, my brain automatically reads it in another language and making myself switch manually is draining as fuck, and I'm at my limit.

There's also the issue of some names that translated wrong/did not translate properly/translated as a wrong word. For example, the head of the Academy would be called Headmaster in English, but it translated to Director, or the fact Google Translate keeps translating Sam's pronouns to he/him for some unknown reason, and many more little details.

So I desperately need help.

Perks: co-authoring, access to all the chapters, naturally, as well as all the random notes, pieces of lore that I have, but that have not made it into the fic, any question regarding the fic answered, random thoughts, permission to rewrite literally anything how you see fit (while keeping the general line of plot). Is it co-authoring or adoption at this point? I have no idea, really, but whatever you prefer.

If you're interested, just message me for any other details <3

P.S. Please understand that there are 10 (maybe 9.5) chapters to be edited. And also that I will be giving you a sort of test piece of text to try it out. If, at any point later, you decide it's not your cup of tea anymore, that's totally fine, I'll understand. I just really, really want to post this fic, but I don't want to throw the plain unedited version there.

Thanks in advance!

[literallyjusttoa]

Hey guys! I'm putting out a call for my commissions again for two big reasons: One, Emergencies have caused me to be low on funds when I wasn't expecting it, and that kind of sucks actually. Two, I have a project that I've been dreaming about for years but have actually been able to start working towards in the last couple of months, but to finish it I need to not be living paycheck to paycheck for like a month at the very least, which brings me back to point one :(. I will talk more about the big project under the cut, bc I think it's something you all might really enjoy!

But for now, I will link my commission sheet: Here (It's also my pinned post)

And my new Ko-fi!: Here for if you just want to donate, which would be literally incredible and I would owe you my soul actually.

Ok now for big Project Time!!!

I am in the process of editing and revising my first Youtube video! This has been an on and off dream of mine for like 7 years at this point, but I've finally taken the plunge and gotten to work on a channel. I wanna talk about all sorts of fandoms (including the riordanverse ofc) With videos ranging from plot and character analysis, to trends in fandom culture in general, to fun little ranking videos and speedpaints. All around, I just want the channel to be a fandom hive, where everyone can find something they enjoy.

I already have PNG's created of my sona to use as assets (And I have a sparkly new sona, the one in the pic above!) and I have two finished scripts, with the first one being fully recorded as well! One for my first video, which will be a retrospective on Gravity Falls, and one for a video about the Percy Jackson TV show, the inherent differences between TV and books as mediums, how I think the TV show could improve, and the things I think it got perfectly. I also have a bunch more ideas, such as:

BIG Trials of Apollo video essay, with a focus on how the books and the fandom have effected me over the years.

Ranking all of my favorite characters from all of the media I've been a fan of over the years (This would be over 70 characters)

Explaining the Iliad, but make it funny (with a side of Troy apologia)

Reading Lore Olympus and pointing out how it deviates from myth (the things I'm willing to do for you people /j)

Canon vs. Fanon, where I compare a characters canon characterization with their fanon counterpart and try to figure out how things turned out the way they did.

And more, but I don't want this post to be 5000 words long.

Now here's the big question. As I said in the part above, I'm struggling a bit now money-wise. And I really wanna make this project work, but there's also, you know. Tuition. Rent. Food. Stupid other adult stuff. So if anyone is amenable (and this is totally up to demand, I don't wanna pressure anyone into doing anything!) I was also thinking of maybe making a Patreon. Now, I'd have to do research for this, bc I wanna make sure anyone who signed up would get the right rewards and really get the bang for their buck. I'm pretty sure there's not gonna be much interest in this rn, cuz like, I'm not that big of a blog oof. But if anyone is interested! Here are some of the perks I would definitely be implementing! (sry it's another list)

Early access to videos, and behind the scenes looks at art assets and video creation

the ability to request topics for videos

Patrons names being shown in the videos. And higher tiered patrons getting custom chibis that will be shown in videos as well (and given to the patrons obv)

This ones a bit complicated, but I want to create a cover of a song that has to do with each video to play during their outros. So like, for the gravity falls video, I'm gonna record a quick cover of the Disco Girl song from the show. Only a small section of the song would be in each video, but patrons would get access to the full covers, and be able to request songs to be covered.

Discounts on commissions

A monthly speedpaint that would be exclusive to patreon. Patrons would be able to vote on what the drawing would be.

All of these ideas I'm 100% sure I want to add to a patreon if I make one, but obv there could be more that comes up later. I'm just gauging interest on this idea rn, so let me know if that's something you'd be down to sign up for! Maybe I'm jumping the gun here but I'm just really excited to create and give back to the community and aaahhhhh

Now, no matter what, I'm gonna have this first video out by mid-September at the latest. Because stupid money troubles are not gonna stop me from making this a thing dangit. So look out for that, I'll link the vid here when it releases! But I am just really stressed rn and any support would go a long way towards making this dream come true. And on that note, one more sappy real talk if I am allowed it?

If you've read this far, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. This community and fandom is truly incredible. My blog is about to reach 5 years old, and I've never seen a group of people so accepting and creative and just fun to be around. You guys have truly changed my life, and I wouldn't have the courage to try for this if I didn't have the support you've given me. I know this is super dramatic for just trying to make a youtube channel, but making a place where I could just talk about all the nerdy and overly specific things I care about and share them with the world is something I've wanted for my whole life. You guys gave me that with this blog, and if this channel works out, it'll be thanks to you, so you'll have given it to me twice. I don't have the words to express how much I love this community and all the incredible people in it. So even if you can't support, just know that being here for however long you have been, whether it's the whole five years or the last two days, has done more than you'll ever know. You guys are the best, thank you for everything <3