#and he responds to it with no hesitation :]

[a-a-lost-munchkin]

I Can’t Help But Wonder

Odysseus, who just violently and mercilessly murdered 108 or so men, who claims in the next song that he’s no longer a kind or gentle man, actively listens to Telemachus and kindly and gently responds to everything his son’s expressed.

Telemachus asks, “Am I like you? Am I strong like you? Will you embrace me? Will you love and accept me as yours?” He says, “I’ve felt so alone.”

And Odysseus claims him in a heartbeat, answering, “My son. My boy. My sweetest joy I’ve ever known. I embraced you twenty years ago. I’d do the impossible for you. I’d die for you.” He says, “Seeing the men here today, I can only wonder what you’ve been through for twenty years. My son, you’re already strong. You’re my own. You’re not alone. I’m home.”

And then they fucking embrace.

[ragsy]

big big big fan of found family relationships with shithead sibling dynamics

sure, yeah, they had no one in the world until they found each other, and they will fight tooth and nail for each other's safety, but they will also eat the last of the other's cereal and put the box back in the cabinet or tell the other's significant other every embarrassing story about them or greet each other by means of full body tackle and chokehold

[feelo-fick]

it can't be too hard right?

it's easy not to think about things, he tells me i don't think all the time! wait...

—

a scene from a fic that i have no clue if ill finish, let alone post, but look i made fanart of my own thing that doesnt even exist :D

[whatwooshkai]

Lucky number 15!

"Look alive, Blades." Heatwave shakes the helicopter's shoulder roughly as he drops a cube in front of him.

Blades smacks him with a rotor, not even bothering to lift his head off the table.

Heatwave smacks his shoulder in retaliation, then slips into the seat next to him. Thankfully the slap fight stops there.

Chase fidgets with his hands, trying to suppress the happy trill of his doorwings. Cohort! Cohort is here! his coding sings.

Which is precisely why he needs to bring this up this morning. It's fairly rare that all four of them get breakfast together- most of Heatwave and Chase's classes are morning classes, and it's rare to see Blades out of bed before midday. But it seems the stars have aligned today, and everyone's in a good mood, so why is he so nervous?

"Have you started thinking about your classes for next semester?" Boulder asks, taking a sip of their cube.

"Oh, Primus, don't remind me," Heatwave bemoans, pressing the palm of his hand to his face. "I have too much to do already to think about that."

Blades gives a noncommittal groan.

"Actually, I wanted to discuss that with you all," Chase blurts, his cohort coding overriding any anxiety he had. "We should take the team classes."

Heatwave raises an eyebrow. "'Team classes'?"

Boulder claps their hands. "I love that idea," they say, optics shining. "The four of us? A team?"

"Yes, this is the year we would have to sign up for it," he continues, scratching at the peeling paint on his wrist. "And we would continue to learn as a team, we would graduate as such, and eventually work as one."

"Yeah, I can get on board with that," Heatwave says, shockingly agreeing without any arguing. "Can't stand my classmates. You guys are alright." He chuckles to himself. "I can at least stand to look at your ugly mugs for more than an hour."

Chase can't suppress the flapping of his doorwings at that. Cohort, cohort, cohort! his coding sings even louder, to the point where his finials start to flick in time to his wings. Cohort together! Cohort stay!

Blades doesn't raise his helm, but his pede gives Chase's a love tap. .:Chase, I love you:. crackles over their internal comms, and Chase has to suppress an embarrassingly happy noise. .:I'm in, I'm so in:.

"I will do all of our registering," Chase tells them, voice tight. He's smiling, it feels a little weird. He feels like he's floating. Cohort stay!! Cohort good, cohort safe, cohort stay!!! "For both the team itself and our classes. You won't have to worry about it."

"Well, you're not gonna hear any arguing from me," Heatwave tells him with a grin, knocking back the rest of his cube. "Alright, I gotta go to class. Thanks, Chase."

He flicks a finial as he walks by, but Chase is too excited to care.

He and the rest of his cohort (his cohort!!!) say their goodbyes and go their separate ways- except for Blades, who is still plastered to the table, cube untouched.

It's going to work this time, Chase tells himself as he heads to the registration office, pre-signed datapad held like precious metal in his hands. They're going to stay. They're cohort. My cohort.

His doorwings don't stop flapping for the rest of the day.

[keets-writing-corner]

Alright everyone, buckle up and sit down. I was talking with @nerdasaurus1200 on another post and came to the conclusion that I need to write Sera meta so let's freaking GO

I'm mostly gonna be talking about Sera, what we know about her so far, and what makes her tick (aka her fears) and why she's not a bitch/asshole the way apparently so many people like to portray her? (I've mostly just been hanging out with fan art and headcanons specifically about Lucifer in the fandom so I haven't seen these specifically, but someone approached me about how they liked m portrayal of Sera in my fic which was NOT that of an asshole and apparently multiple people are portraying her that way? Idk I haven't seen any but uh yeah let's talk SERA)

Characters are always the most important part of a story, and even if they're not a main character and/or the audience nor the writer know what they want/need, the writer at the very least needs to know How and Why a character makes decisions, instead of just "oh they're an asshole" So let's do that for Sera. Why is she making the decisions she's making? LETS GO

Let's start off by talking about what we know about Sera

She's at least as old as Lucifer, she was there for the creation of earth given the appearance of her silhouette in Charlie's exposition

We know that the exterminations might have been Adam's idea, but it was HER decision to approve them

We know that she's FOR SURE older than Emily

and the other thing we know for sure about her is that she is the High Seraphim (we don't know WHAT that means exactly but clearly it is a position of authority and rule)

So those are the things we know for sure:

She's about as old as Lucifer

She approved the exterminations

She's older than Emily

and she's the high Seraphim

Now I'm going to circle back to all of these points but I want to start off with her relationship with Lucifer

Unfortunately for all of us, the only thing we can say about their relationship with 100% certainty is that they for SURE know each other, either because they were essentially "coworkers" in the past, or because they're both the respective rulers of their realms (even if Sera has some people above her) and they're implied to interact with each other

(at the very least you cannot convince me otherwise that they don't interact. Someone had to have talked to Lucifer about the exterminations for him to have had "approved it" and we know it wasn't Adam because Lucifer hadn't seen Adam since he fell to hell until the finale, and we know that Sera was not only the one to approve said exterminations but also decreed that no one else in heaven know about them. She clearly must have spoken to Lucifer about it because there's nobody else left who had the authority to do that AND knew about them)

So at the very least in present day Sera and Lucifer have some sort of professional relationship as leaders. And I'll come back to this because it's implied that this relationship isn't a very good one, but first let's talk about the past

full stop, we have NO IDEA what sort of relationship Sera and Lucifer might have had when he was still in heaven. But here's the thing, even if their relation was strictly "yeah I know them cuz I work with them, but that's as far as it goes" Lucifer's fall STILL would have been horrifying for Sera to witness. He was the same rank as her, probably no other angel except the elders likely ranked higher, and they still banished him. Charlie's storybook leaves it at that, but Lucifer implies it was violent in his debut episode.

trauma is a funny thing when you think about it, you're just as likely to develop trauma by watching someone else be assaulted as you are for you to have been assaulted. And Sera was there, she likely saw the whole thing happen. So not only did Sera watch how brutal the elders could be to someone who questioned and disobeyed the order, but the fact that it was done to LUCIFER someone of equal rank and authority as her means that absolutely NOBODY is safe from the elders

and this is without taking into account that on some level, she and Lucifer had to have been close. There are no other seraphim in heaven besides her, the elders (who appear to be rather hands off and uninvolved) and Emily. Emily was likely created as a replacement for Lucifer, so at the time, it was basically just her and Lucifer as the only seraphim up there. They not only worked closely together, they likely had a close bond as well. Now I have my own head canon preferences as to what kind of bond, BUT let's ignore that and look at 3 options (although there are likely more, but huuu this post is gonna be long already so let's not push it yeah? )

option 1: equal peers. You are Sera and you've known Lucifer all your life. You two have "grown up" together, learned about the world and your powers together. You're comrades in arms! You know all of each other's secrets! You lean on each other for support as you lead heaven together. You work together all the time. Sure, he can be a little excitable at times but it's so much FUN right? This guy could be your bestie/brother. And you sit back and watch as the only ones with more authority than you, skewer him and banish him to hell for having questioned the order and now there's a metaphorical spear against your back at all times because you know it could have been you instead, and it could still be you if you don't behave

Option 2: Lucifer is your mentor. He's taught you everything you know. The ropes, your powers, the world. He's fantastic! You admire him greatly. He has such energy you could never hope to match. You put him on a pedestal, and in one fell swoop the only people he answers to destroy your mentor in front of you. You are now alone, without any more advice or guidance other than a warning to not step out of line as your mentor once did

Option 3: Lucifer is your apprentice. He's adorable! A little over enthusiastic but who doesn't love someone who's passionate about the things they like? He brings a wonderful energy and vibe, and... he's your responsibility. You try to reign in his wild energy only for the elders to step in and banish him because you failed him and now you know that the elders could do that to you too

So, I'll be honest, option 3 is NOT the one I'm biased towards, but if it ends up being that one, it would make Sera's behavior towards Emily extra heartbreaking. She already failed one apprentice, she will not fail another one, right?

Either way, Sera is terrified of going against the elders because of what they did to Lucifer in spite of his rank. She knows first hand how harsh they can be and because of that, she will do everything in her power to make sure nobody around her falls into the same fate. No one will ever question the elders again, and she will lie and withhold information to make sure that happens

And we're just talking about the INITIAL banishment.

Now why would Sera bring this up, unless what she was most afraid of wasn't even the initial banishment, but of the suffering she clearly knows comes afterwards? And why would she care or even know about the suffering? Well, if it's true that she and Lucifer were close, then regardless if she was spying on him or not the way we know heaven can do, she still watched a cute enthusiastic little angel go from this:

to this

all because because he suffered.

She watched him question, get banished, suffer, and change into someone she didn't recognize, in real time. And the worst part is, she's not only scared of what happened TO him, she's personally scared OF him and what he's become. He might be fallen, but he's still a powerful angel

And this segways into another bullet: she approved the exterminations, but WHY

Charlie's intro implies it was as some sort of punishment towards Lilith who was rallying the demons and they felt threatened

But clearly there's more to this

So first thing I'd like to point out, Sera doesn't look happy about this decision. She mentions as much in the song "You didn't Know" when she outright tells Emily "It was such a hard decision" and earlier in the same episode she outright tells Adam she wouldn't have approved of this if she had known it'd make things "worse"

But this is incomplete. Something doesn't make sense. Sera clearly meets with Lucifer for certain matters as previously established, and Lucifer, in spite of his initial trauma "NO CHARLIE DO NOT TALK TO HEAVEN" knee jerk reaction, never doubted that he COULD in fact get her a meeting with heaven. He outright tells her at the end of episode 5

He never says, "I'll try to get the meeting". He says straight up, I can do this. There isn't a doubt in his mind that he can get this meeting. He knows Sera will meet with him/take his call (idk how he contacts heaven) and will agree to the meeting. We don't really know WHY Sera agreed to this if she thought it was a bad idea and never really intended to entertain the idea to begin with, going as far as to tell Adam to rig the results and calling Charlie misguided. So what's up? Why on earth would she agree to it? Well...?

Sera is scared of the demons of hell, hence why she approved the exterminations, but she's even MORE scared of Lucifer and folded to his request. (or idk maybe there's more going on here and she feels guilt about what happened to him so she folds to him sometimes idk, but for the sake of this meta, SHE'S SCARED OF HIM)

but here's what's kinda weird. Charlie's storybook only mentions LILITH'S involvement with the demons rising in power, not Lucifer. Sera later claims that they were uprising to Emily as the reason she's scared of them and that it's her job to keep everyone safe.

Clearly SOMETHING happened between the creation of Hell and the exterminations being approved that involved BOTH the sinners AND Lucifer that made Sera scared of both. Sera doesn't seem the type to fear without reason. She fears questioning the order because that incurs the elders' wrath. She fears the elders because of what they did to Lucifer. She fears angels falling because she saw how much it hurt Lucifer. Sera is not the type to fear randomly. Clearly there is some sort of thing that happened that made it clear to Sera that Lucifer is to be feared enough to fold to his requests and that the sinners are dangerous enough that it justifies genocide.

And now to bring back the whole Sera is older than Emily. Emily didn't know this otherwise Sera wouldn't have needed to tell her. AKA Emily wasn't even around when said conflict happened. Sera not only had to go through something that clearly traumatized her to the point where she agreed that genocide was a reasonable response, but she had to go through that ALONE. Trauma is hard enough to deal with, but to have to navigate it alone really gives it some steroids it has no business in having

This genuinely makes me wonder how long the exterminations have to have been taking place. It probably took a WHILE for hell to gather up enough numbers that they started making buildings by the look of Charlie's storybook, AND THEN did something against heaven, so this was not happening from day one of hell, far from it. And this also makes me wonder how old exactly is Emily? She strikes me as extremely young

season 2 come out please, I'm working from CRUMBS here, there is so much we don't know

But yeah, all of this to say, Sera isn't just some alpha bitch who's prejudiced against demons (not to say there isn't bias there, there ABSOLUTELY is, ugh) but at her core, she's a leader who underwent a lot of trauma and she's full of fear and she makes decisions, rational, moral or not, based off of that fear. And yeah unfortunately, fear, especially trauma based fear, messes with us in ways we never would expect

a kind man may suddenly resort to violence. The confident argumentative person, may instead end up frozen. Someone who thought they valued their family all their life instead runs away. We may regret what we do in moments in fear, we might even logically know that we're making bad decisions, or decisions that go against our morals. Sera CLEARLY hates that she made the decision to approve extermination, but she holds onto it steadfast because it alleviates the fear

Funnily enough, I don't particularly LIKE Sera. I dislike her microaggressions towards Charlie and her attempts to sabotage her efforts at the meeting by calling upon Adam. But as a writer, looking at the clues I got to say she's a very interesting character to me. She seems like a reasonable authority figure, but she's so full of trauma that she's letting her fear make all of her decisions for her

[cynicalmusings]

aaand classical musician!xiao is in the brain microwave again… sigh…

[habitual-creatures]

HOW THE FUCK DID YOU WANT ME TO RESPOND??! CONGRATU-FUCKING-LATIONS?!

[ REGARDS, HABIT ]

(( @brianssock :> ))

[spring-lxcked]

pops in to say ( because @florietiae has me thinking abt pet names ) that william's usage of "darling" is so funny. term he exclusively starts using when he's soooooo into someone romantically, like he's head-over-heels even if he doesn't fully realize it yet. has the audacity to use it in front of other ppl too because he knows a lot of ppl just peg it as "oh he's english that's probably just something he calls ppl" but actually he's just bold-faced flirting with sb for everyone to see.

[astros-turf]

I've always said that if I met my own doppel, as much as it might freak me out... I would have no choice but to love them. Because this person that looks exactly like me probably went through a similar life situation to me, and that means all this person wants and needs is a reliable support system, and a hug.

Plus, depending on the person's like legal documents and shit... Maybe we can trade off who goes to work lol so we can each have more breaks!

what if your doppelgänger wasn’t evil it was just a person. what if your doppelgänger wasn’t trying to replace you it was just trying to learn to be a person and you were the best model it had. what if your doppelgänger looked at you with your eyes and said with your voice that it just wanted to be loved. what then.

[ladyofloptyr]

i've also been thinking about how given for the most part utilizes sex in an understated way. i won't pretend that it entirely avoids mainstream yaoi tropes, but i do think every sex scene being fade to black and non-explicit is an artistic choice.

to akihiko, sex is transactional. on the nights he and ugetsu sleep together, he doesn't have to worry about them fighting or having to find another place to stay. when he shows up at haruki's place as well, sex is what he tries to offer in exchange for shelter which is pretty depressing.

for how guarded ugetsu is, i find it fascinating too that he brings his partners to his home. yes, he's using it to try to drive off akihiko and get under his skin, but i think there's more to it than that.

though he claims they mean nothing, ugetsu is always searching for understanding. i think sex is one of the few times ugetsu feels intimate and close to other people. it's also why i believe he still can't fully break things off with akihiko because he craves that feeling of togetherness.

[lymtw]

Toji and his shy girl cuddle fucking WHO SAID THAT

A/N: EEHEE I heard it too 🤭 Even if the echo took a while to reach me 😔 No, but really, I loved this! It's been a while since i've written out a request 😅 I'm excited to start trying some of these, again :)

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji and His Shy Girl

"Hey, you," Toji says, grinning like a menace at the way your body minimally jolts, like he scared you. "You don't like me or something?"

You turn to look at him, a barely there crease between your brows. "What? I do. What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't you wanna be with me? You're sitting on your own island over there, while i'm over here... all alone... feeling like chopped liver."

He's cute, you think. Playfully dramatic enough to make you giggle. It's always nice to know he wants you around, too, when you keep your distance to give him that choice.

"I just thought you would want some space, is all," you explain. "This is a pretty long movie, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Would sitting with me make you uncomfortable?" Toji asks.

"No," you respond, though the thought of sitting next to him or on him, has your heart rate picking up. Most of the time, Toji wants it to be the latter, and when this happens, it feels like he's peeking at your soul. You feel like every nerve in your body is tingling and like your skeleton is buzzing. You know he can sense your nervousness, most of the time, and yet he doesn't take it easy on you. His patience, his charm, and his irresistible way of trying to seduce you—none of it ever gets easier to withstand without you feeling flustered.

"You're comfortable, I'm comfortable. We're both comfortable, so, come closer, sweetheart." He sees hesitance flash through your features, before you finally give in and start inching closer.

"Come on. Closer, baby," Toji instructs, watching as you continue to inch towards him. "Look at all this space. Get rid of it."

He chuckles at the properness of your folded hands in your lap, when you sit on the edge of the couch cushion, in front of his legs. "You're gonna stop there and keep watching the movie all uncomfortable?"

"It's fine," you say, smiling at him before facing forward, again. You can feel him staring at you as you try to focus on the movie. His hand goes to your thigh, an act that has your heart beating rapidly in your chest, close to being heard in your ears. He tugs at your sweatpants, earning your attention.

"I'll spell it out for you, doll. I want you here, lying right in front of me. Wanna cuddle with you and shit." You return your gaze to the screen and though anybody would think that it's rude, because it seems like you're ignoring him, Toji knows what it means. He knows it's hard for you to hold eye contact with him, sometimes, and that you looking away gives you time to collect your thoughts and prepare what you want to respond with.

"But you won't be able to see the movie," you say, as a last ditch effort to let him enjoy the movie without obstructing his view and invading his personal space.

"We'll make it work. Just come here. Please?" He pats the spot in front of him, directing you to lie right where he wants you.

"Okay," you say, more to yourself than to him. You scoot down a little more, before lying down on your side, on the exact spot he said he was wanted you. In an instant, you're swallowed up by him. He pulls you in so that you're pressed up against him, his leg overlaps yours, and his face goes straight for your neck.

"T-Toji, I know you can't see the movie. I can go back, if you want."

"Mm-mm. Nope. It's all good. Got what I need," he assures, low against your neck, a hand planted on your stomach. "Pretty baby," he murmurs, pressing kisses onto your skin. "You smell so fucking good."

You feel like some sort of soothing toy for him, with the way any time you sit with him, you end up stealing his focus and withstanding the way he mouths at your skin and runs his hands all over you.

"You comfortable? Have enough space?" He asks, kissing your earlobe. You nod in response and he hums, a click of his tongue and a couple pats to your stomach, expressing his disapproval of the nonverbal confirmation. "Say it, baby. Yes or no?"

"Sorry. Yes, i'm comfortable," you confirm, in a manner more to his liking.

"Mm... you're so good to me, doll," Toji praises, adding a kiss to the appreciation.

He understands that sometimes it's difficult for you to say things out loud and you'll dismiss your own discomfort for the sake of not having to verbalize what is bothering you. It's why he's so adamant on hearing you talk, over seeing you nod or shake your head in response to things. He's working on this with you. He's heard 'sorry' so many times, now, and each time, he rejects your apology, deeming it unnecessary, because he knows you're trying.

Things are still for a few moments. You get fully comfortable, lying there on the couch, with Toji spooning you, and manage to refocus on the movie. His hand goes under your shirt, meeting the warmth of your skin. It's a gesture that disturbs the calmness of your heart, as well as your focus on the TV, again.

"This okay?" He asks, caressing your stomach, occasionally pinching it, gently.

"Mhm," you hum, in response, before pretending to pay attention to the movie. You're too distracted by the dragging of his fingertips and the goosebumps he lures onto your skin. You're sure he can feel them, too, because his hand starts wandering higher up your torso, like he wants to get more reactions from you. You shift minimally when his fingers slide beneath the elastic band of your sports bra, grazing the bottom part of your breast.

"Still comfortable?" Toji asks, keeping his hand still until he receives a response from you.

"Yeah... you're okay," you assure, once again, resting your hand on his forearm. Your breath hitches when his fingertips brush against your nipple. Toji grins at the involuntarily squeeze you offered his arm, finding amusement in the way your body reacts to his touch.

Toji chuckles, lowly, at all your sudden fidgeting. "Does that feel good, mama? Want me to keep going?" He asks, planting a kiss on your shoulder. You're not stopping him. If anything, he can feel you gently pushing his arm so that his entire hand goes up your bra. "It's alright. You can tell me," he says, encouraging you to respond.

"It feels good. Please..." Your soft voice halts, a shuddered exhale released through your nose.

"Mhm, give me more. Please, what?" He says, baiting a more elaborate response from you. "Just saying 'please' doesn't tell me what you need, pretty."

"Please... keep touching me." You cringe, internally, the second the words come out. You don't even realize how proud Toji is or get to indulge in the praise he offers, because you're too busy overthinking what you just said.

"That was perfect," Toji murmurs, scattering light kisses onto your neck. His enormous hand stretches your bra, and grabs ahold of your breast. "I'll give you anything you want, sweetheart. Anything. The trick is... you gotta ask for it."

That alone is enough to teach you another lesson on not always being able to get what you want. It's not always so easy for you to ask Toji for things. He's seen you get frustrated, because of this. It happens, even if your frustration is never loud and you don't raise your voice or throw a tantrum. It's quite the opposite. Too many questions to your initial request, results in you shaking your head, as if to say, 'never mind. I'll do it myself'. Having to repeat yourself too many times, gets a similar result. Even in times when he's just asking you to describe something more, you lose patience with yourself and your inability to communicate what you need, efficiently, and essentially give up on explaining it to him, doing it yourself, instead.

It's times like these that really help you out in that aspect. You want something that you can make yourself feel, but receiving it from Toji makes it so much better, because of the element of surprise. You give him access to your entire body and he gives you everything you could ever want in terms of pleasure. You never know where he's going to touch you and what he's going to touch you with.

"You understand?" Toji asks, seeking comprehension from you. A small whimper interrupts the silence of an expected response. "I know. Tell me," he encourages.

Your grip on his arm gets tighter and more of your restrained soft sounds reach his ears as he keeps rolling your stiffened peak between his fingers. You gasp when he shifts his attention to your other breast and writhe in his arms. "Y-Yes—please—yes, Toji. I understand."

"Sensitive thing." He chuckles. "Look at that little arch. Bet you're soaked, already, huh?"

"Oh... god, i'm sorry," you mumble, relaxing your back against him, again. You feel like you could implode with how much attention you're being given. You just want to shrink and hide under the couch, and just watch the rest of the movie from there.

"You're fine, doll. I know the slightest touch does a lot to you," he says, brushing over your nipple, knowing that your reaction will emphasize his point. "You nervous?"

You groan in response to the question and turn your head so that your face is planted in the pillow, earning another deep chuckle from Toji.

"I'm not gonna eat you, mama," he jokes, grinning at the way your body trembles with contained amusement. "I mean... I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it before. You're sweeter than any candy or cookie—even cake. You're sweeter than all of it, but I need you here with me, so I can't... I won't eat you, alright?" His method of getting you to lighten up worked enough to lure giggles from you. "Yeah, there you go. Relax. Just wanna love on you," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Wanna make you feel good. You want that, gorgeous?"

Throughout your time with Toji, you've learned that he's a very hands on man. He's constantly seeking your warmth and softness, because physical touch is his love language and he'll put in the work to get you to comfortably connect with him that way, too. You find that sometimes when you're lying in his bed, ready for the sleep part of sleeping over, he'll stick his head up your shirt and just fall asleep like that on your chest. It's easy for him to relax when he can hear your heart wildly beating in your chest. Sometimes, randomly, when you're just sitting next to him, he'll pick you up and set you down on him, just to watch you get flustered when he starts talking to you within such a close proximity. He loves the way you scramble to escape his sight, always ending up with your face buried in his neck.

"Aw, don't go all quiet on me, now, pretty. You know better. Say what's on your mind." His hand slides out of your bra and goes back down to your stomach, the roughness of his palm rubbing your soft skin. You don't like making him beg for you. He's patient enough with your nervous tendencies, you know he doesn't deserve it.

"I want you, Toji," you say, softly. It's a huge contrast to the hammering going on in your chest and the annoying rhythm in your ears.

"Yeah? Keep fucking going, baby. How do you want me?"

"Please," you mumble, reverting back to the familiarity of simplicity.

"No, not like that. Give me a little more," Toji clarifies.

"I... I want you to touch me... and make me feel good. Want you to feel good, too."

You feel and hear the rumble of his laugh behind you, a sound that makes your fingertips tingle and your stomach erupt with butterflies all over again.

"You precious angel. You want me to fuck you?"

You don't know how long you can last with your heart beating so fast. It's a miracle that it hasn't exploded, with how it's almost always racing when you're around Toji.

You feel like your face is on fire, but you nod, and offer a soft, yet, clear, "yes, please," giving Toji the consenting words he's been listening closely for.

"Alright, ma. You just focus on the rest of the movie and i'll take care of you, 'kay?"

"Mhm," you hum, in response. You pull on the drawstring of your pajama bottoms and begin pulling them down with one hand. Toji watches with a sly smirk on his face as he feels you shift around, more of your skin coming into view. This is your effort. This is what makes him love you so damn much. You try for him. He knows your heart is probably in shambles, as you kick the article off and wait for what's to come, but you're showing him that you want this, and that means beyond everything to him.

"You're so perfect, my girl," he says, pressing kisses to your ear. "So, so perfect..." he trails off when his fingers meet the wetness of your panties. He was right. You're utterly soaked. His hand dips into your underwear, instantly greeted by your warmth as he keeps digging. Two fingers drag through your slit, back and forth, for just long enough to have you fidgeting as he collects a sample of your sweetness. Once your thighs attempt to shut around his hand, craving more, he pulls it out and admires the glossy coating on his fingers. Without hesitation, he brings the digits into his mouth, a low hum of satisfaction leaving him as he licks them clean. His cock is throbbing in his pants, straining mercilessly against his boxers as he savors the aftertaste of you on his tongue.

"Straight up fucking sugar," Toji murmurs, as he hastily starts pulling down his own pants, ready to get a feel of what he just tasted. There's a breathiness in his voice, urgency that you can't process, because you can barely believe he sounds that way after tasting you. Then you feel it—the monster he packs, pressing against you.

"I'm all hard, just for you, pretty," he murmurs in your ear, as he starts grinding his bulge against your ass. "Feel that?" He groans. "It's all for you. All yours." He plants a kiss on your neck and halts the movement of his hips against you. His hand returns beneath your shirt, a slow drag up your abdomen, towards your chest. His fingers dip beneath the elastic once more and splay over your breast, squeezing. He can feel the stutter in your chest as he feels up the entirety of it. You keep fidgeting against him, and he recognizes this as your way of saying you need more.

"You ready for me?" He asks, still toying with your stiffened, sensitive peaks.

"Ready," you respond, maintaining your voice as steady and clear as possible. You squeeze his hand through your shirt for deeper assurance.

Toji smiles softly at your little gesture and pulls his hand out of your shirt. Just as he did when he was directing his touch towards your chest, he follows the same path down, tracing your curves until his hand makes it way between your legs. He moves the gusset of your underwear aside, an act that has you shaking your foot against the couch cushion.

"Relax, sweet girl," Toji hums, a low chuckle following. He lowers his boxers enough to pull his throbbing, drooling cock out and smears the precum that beads on his tip all over his length. Once it's all covered he guides his tip to the warm, slick ridden space between your legs. After running it through your slit a few times, to hear the squelching sounds and your little whimpers when he catches your clit, he slowly starts sinking into you.

"There, baby," Toji murmurs. His warm palm rubs the softness of your stomach and he scatters wet little kisses on your shoulder and your neck, all while he continues feeding your cunt his inches. "You're so fucking cute," he coos, listening closely to the sound of your little whimpers and gasps. "Fuck..." he groans, once his hips are flush against you. He can feel the way you clench and flutter around his pulsing cock, making the fit even more snug for seconds at a time.

"All good, little lady?" He asks, pinching your goosebump covered stomach.

"Mhm," you hum, a chime of your giggle following.

Toji's hold on you is secure. He has you. Warm and gentle caresses and brushes of his fingers on your skin prove it, along with the way he languidly grinds his hips against you, as if to remind you that you're connected in the most physically intimate way. It's not like you could ignore it, anyway. You feel all of him. His warmth, his strength, his company. It's impossible to ignore Toji.

"This movie's pretty boring, huh?" He asks, not even paying attention to what's going on, like he hasn't been since you crawled into his arms.

"You're not even watching," you reason, smiling at the kisses he presses to your ear.

"Got a reaaally good distraction right in front of me." He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. "So warm and pretty and mmm... Can't focus on anything else," he purrs.

"It's okay. You can choose the next... the next one, too..." you gasp at the slow thrusts he offers. With every roll of his hips, his cock slides out just about halfway before sheathing back into the velvety warmth of your walls.

"I don't want to watch TV, anymore. Wanna watch you," he murmurs, monitoring your reactions to his movement. Every twitch, every shift of your legs against his. It's adorable, the way you push your face just a little bit more into the pillow when he tries to get a peek at you.

"Like that, baby?" He murmurs, a deep groan following. "Mhm? Yeah, I know," he says, like he's responding to your moan.

"Toji," you hum out, an unintentional amount of sultriness dripping off his name.

"Fucking- god, you sound so pretty, mama. Let me hear that again. Do it again."

His hips pick up the pace a little, just enough to coax more of those melodic sounds of yours. His hand dips lower, proceeding down the front of your underwear, his thick fingers gliding down towards your slippery clit. It doesn't take much of this electric addition to your pleasure to have you squirming and writhing against him. It's hard not to want to squish his hand between your thighs.

You whimper, a slight arch curving your back. Your clammy, shaky hands grip onto the couch cushion beneath you, your knuckles protruding from the force you put into your hold. You think he's on the brink of devouring you—absorbing you— with how he's holding you like you'll teleport into space if he lets go for a second.

"Say my name," he says, calmly, directly in your ear. "Call for me, sweetheart. Who's touching you? Who's making you feel like this?"

"T-Toji," you obediently pronounce, meekly, yet, to the man's utmost satisfaction.

"Again—fuck, baby—again," he groans, speeding up his fingers on your clit. He knows the motions spiked your pleasure because of how your body tensed up against him.

Sloppy kisses are pressed to your nape, as well as the side of your neck, where you know fully well that he must have left a plethora of marks already. You can hear the consistent sharp breaths he releases through his nose as he begins to desperately roll his hips into you, chasing what's coming up on him ridiculously fast. He's not aggressive—not entirely soft—but there's just enough movement to where you can hear a slight creak in the couch.

"Toji," you croon, softly. "T-Toji, Toji," you repeat, a high pitched whimper ending your little chain of his name.

"Oh, you're so fucking sweet, doll. So fucking sweet..." he mutters, his voice deep enough to make goosebumps spread anew, all over you. He hums at the feeling of your cunt erratically clenching around him. It's a tell tale sign—along with the frequency of your precious little sounds—of how you're right there, about to cum all over his twitching cock.

Toji loves how flustered you get when he has you tell him that you're about to cum, but he also loves the abruptness that comes with you being so overwhelmed by his touch and how he handles you, that for a few seconds you tense up and release all the sounds that bubble up in your chest, caving to the relentless amount of pleasure you feel without a warning.

"You're my pretty girl," Toji says, lowly, grinning when that's all it takes for you to gasp and arch off his front. Your body trembles and your thighs squeeze around his hand when his fingers continue to rub your clit. His tip just continues to prod at the sensitive spot within you, further intensify the sensation coursing through you. You're aware of how your moans have gotten louder and attempt to muffle them with the pillow, but your breathy little cries can be heard, regardless.

They spur on Toji's own release. His hand comes out of your underwear to avoid overstimulating you and glides up your abdomen, aiming towards your chest. He grabs ahold of one of your breasts, his hand smothering the entire thing as he squeezes and kneads it. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, his thrusts more punctuated, and a little faster in pace. The creaking of the couch is more frequent, as are his groans in your ear. His hold on you is tight. With his forearm having brought you back as close as you can be to him, you're locked in. With a few more thrusts, into your dripping wet warmth, he's spilling his load into you, breathy, deep voiced expletives tumbling off his lips as smears your gooey walls with all the warm, creamy substance.

"F-Fuck..." he groans, slowing the roll of his hips to a languid grind. "I got you," he says, chuckling at the gasp you let out from being filled even more. He drags unfocused, wet kisses over your shoulder and stills his hips entirely with a heavy breath. "Got you, mama." He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to breathe and move a little more freely. "Good?"

"Mhm. Good," you assure.

"Good. Gimme a kiss," he requests, smirking at the sound of your tittering. "What? You laughing at me 'cause I want a little smooch?"

"No," you say, through soft, but, more audible giggling.

"You promise?" He says, grinning at the slight tremble of your shoulders as your twinkles of laughter continue. "I'll let it slide, just this once. Now, give me a kiss, baby."

With a smile lingering on your face—the aftermath of your short giggle fit—you lie back a little and crane your neck as much as you comfortably can. Toji leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to your sweet, lip balm layered ones, brushing them over and over as if he's parched and you're a glass of water. Both of your bodies react to the spark of desire reigniting through the gentle gesture. You can feel him throbbing inside you, while he can feel you clenching around him. His hand pawing at your chest makes butterflies swarm in your stomach and fuels the fluttering going on below.

You hear the dramatic background music of the movie's end credits and break the kiss, facing forward. You realize now that you paid just as much attention as he did—almost none—even when you agreed to keep watching as he touched you.

"Play another boring one," Toji says, behind you, already nipping at your ear, because your attention isn't solely on him anymore.

"But you won't watch it," you say, shuddering at the chill that runs down your spine, when you feel his lips behind your ear.

"That's the point."

[humanjarvis]

lads LIs when you're hesitant to initiate kisses

sylus understands your hesitancy to make yourself vulnerable, but he also can't stand to see you unfulfilled. the first couple times he catches you staring at his lips, he offers nothing but lazy blinks and slow smirks, challenging you to come to him first. but when you look away in uncertainty one too many times, seemingly content to watch your own desires slip away as long as it saves you from embarrassment, he saunters toward you, maintaining eye contact all the way. placing one hand on your hip and the other on your chin, he bends to capture your lips with his, making you stumble with his intensity. his grip on you only tightens when he breaks the kiss, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he tugs you toward his lips. when you lose your balance and fall into his embrace, you realize his game: he’s making you kiss him first 

zayne empathizes with your shyness and hesitancy, afraid to so much as look at you the wrong way in case he offends you. since you’re both too frozen in overthought to make the first move, you don’t become intimate as quickly as most couples, trading physical closeness for emotional understanding. when he walks you to your door after a visit to the bakery, he leaves you with a warm goodnight hug, and you both assume the other is satisfied. only when you think he’s asleep on the sofa one evening and press a fond kiss to his cheek does he realize you share his private desires. the next day, after stoically psyching himself up for 20 minutes, he finds you in the kitchen and kisses you deeply, a pink tinge on his cheeks when he pulls away

caleb wants you to kiss him first—or at least ask him to kiss you—but what if you won’t? he needs to know that you want him—that you’ll willingly give him the privilege of kissing you—so he gives you a few pushes in the right direction. he teases you with heated glances and not-so-accidental touches until you walk up to him, dumb with desire. when you stare up at him helplessly, he settles a large hand on your waist and hovers over your mouth, giving you the chance to push him away. when you don’t, he leans in slowly, tantalizingly, as if wanting to drive home the fact that you’re letting this happen to you—letting him claim your mouth in a slow, consuming kiss. this way, maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the courage to take what you want from him next time—if you let him taste you, there’s no need to be shy anymore, right?

you know rafayel, so you know he would be upset if you expected him to initiate everything—would it kill you to show a little interest in him? that said, you also know that initiating things isn’t really your thing. so, you find a trick that works like a charm: you goad him into kissing you. you’re comfortable enough with kisses to other places—anywhere but the lips—so you adorn his cheeks and neck with soft, chaste kisses until he’s riled up and flushed, his breath coming out in soft pants from the pleasure of feeling wanted. when you pull away, he chases your touch, and all it takes is an innocent giggle from you before he’s pinning you down and stealing your breath away, his tongue tangling with yours in passion and power.

xavier is confused and a bit discouraged when he realizes you never initiate—he thinks you just don’t want to kiss him. one afternoon, you find him sulking in bed, huddled under his comforter with the lights off. worried he’s sick or hurt, you ask what’s wrong, and he gives you 4 pouty non-answers before finally giving in. you can feel your face heat and gut tangle in guilt when he questions if you ever want to kiss him, and with one hand stroking his hair, you confess that you’re simply too shy to kiss him first. he responds with a blink and a whispered “so you do like me, then?”, and when you nod, he tackles you at the speed of light, pressing kisses all over your face before finally claiming your lips

a/n: anon who asked me if i’d ever write for zayne and i hinted at later this week this is not what i was talking about don’t worry, just an impromptu writing exercise to convince myself i’m not washed. also while this technically counts for xavier and raf i’m the least familiar with their cards so idk if/when i can write anything much longer than this for them (love them tho)

[fumiliar]

toji has a secret tattoo, in a place hidden from the rest of the world. and you wanted to find out what exactly this man was hiding.

"where?" you asked one more time.

"nuh uh, no telling," toji shaking his head once more.

"let me find it then!" you got closer to him as you inspected him. you decided to make a plan, you'd ask him to take off a piece of clothing, if he hesitated, that's the spot.

"take your shirt off," you slowly observed the man.

"if you wanted my clothes off, could've just said so," toji taking off his shirt easily with one arm. "do-"

"your pants," you continued, as the man raised his eyebrows.

"do you want to fuck me or something?" he took off his pants, leaving him with just his boxers in the middle of the living room. "quit staring won'cha, my eyes are up here."

you were lost, no hesitation in any of his movements. his skin was clean, in all the places you'd expect a patch of ink, there was nothing.

"give up?" toji taunted as a smirk slowly came to his lips.

you had an epiphany, his lips. you walked closer to the man, looking pitifully as if you were a kid who got their lollipop stolen. as you got closer, you leaned for a kiss. slowly, your hands reached for his face, landing on his bottom lip. you pulled his bottom lip down finding the tattoo, "kiss me" right on his inner lip. jackpot!

"YES!" you jumped in happiness, releasing his bottom lip. before you do your third jump, you felt large hands grabbing your waist, immobilising you. he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist making you see him eye to eye.

"don't be too excited, now this is a secret between me and you, no one else, no one," toji emphasising the last 2 words glaring at your smile.

"ok, kiss me," before toji could respond, you smashed your lips to hip making him shut up, giggling in between kisses.

note: firm believer toji is a man who got a tattoo bcs of a silly dare.

[kbwrites]

“Achoo!” 

You sneeze again, rubbing your nose, you feel absolutely.

Terrible.

All day, you’ve barely been able to do anything but blow your nose and lie down for five minutes before your head starts spinning. Just when you think it can’t get any worse, you hear the doorknob click.

Shit.

You promised to make dinner tonight.

“I’m home.” his deep voice fills the air, sending you into a mild panic as you scramble toward the kitchen, hoping to whip something up in time.

He steps in, towering figure leaning against the doorframe, eyebrow quirked up in confusion.

“Sorry Ryo! I’ll get you something to eat soon.”

He doesn’t respond at first, just watches you with narrowed eyes. Then, he moves closer, his steps slow and deliberate. Before you know it, he’s right in front of you, staring down. 

He stretches a hand out, touching the back of his hand to your forehead.

“You… are ill.” He states, furrowing his brow.

“It’s just a cold—“

He grunts, clearly annoyed. “Why would you try to cook in this condition?”

“Because I promised… and I didn’t want you to get mad.” you say looking down at your feet. 

Sukuna lets out a low, irritated growl, turning on his heel and stalking toward the kitchen. 

"Sit down."

You blink, watching him in surprise as he opens the fridge and starts pulling out ingredients, his movements efficient and swift. He spares you a glance, and you hesitate before shuffling over to the couch.

"You shouldn’t be doing this for me." your voice laced with guilt, watching his broad back as he chops vegetables.

Sukuna grunts, his eyes flicking toward you, sharp and unyielding. "I am not that idiot you dated before.” he says flatly, the disgust in his voice unmistakable. "You’re sick. I’m not letting you do anything."

The words hit harder than you expect, and you feel a warmth settle in your chest.  As he seasons the food with the same precision he brings to everything, you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

The soft clink of the spoon against the pot is the only sound for a moment before his voice cuts through again, harsher this time. 

"If you ever push yourself like that again, especially for me, I’ll make sure you regret it."

Your smile fades, but there's comfort in his rough concern. "I won’t." you promise.

A short silence follows, broken only by the bubbling of the soup. When he finally brings the bowl over, he sets it down with a firm thud, crimson eyes watching you closely. "Eat."

You pick up the spoon, feeling overwhelmed by how cared for you are. "Thank you."

His eyes narrow slightly, lips curling in disdain. 

"Tch. The bar's in hell if you think I wouldn’t take care of you."

[mrsbarnesblog]

wrecked

masterlist

summary: you get into an accident with Rafe's car

words count: 1.3k

warnings: car accident, Topper and Kelce🥸, protective Rafe

You didn’t want to take Rafe’s car at first. He usually was the one who drove you whenever and wherever you needed, insisting that he felt calmer about you being okay. But he was busy from an early morning at work, and you really didn’t want to disturb him, even if you desperately needed to go. 

Also, he didn’t mind you taking his car, even allowing you to practice on his favorite one. He just wanted you to be careful. Though you were always hesitant, not wanting to scratch it or accidentally break something, because you knew how much Rafe cherished his cars. 

So it was not your fault when some asshole drove on the red light. It happened so fast that you couldn’t even do anything about it. One moment you were driving down the street, and the next the sound of tires, breaking glass, and scratching metal filled your ears. Rafe’s car spun around from the force of the hit, and the airbags deployed, preventing you from hitting your head too hard, but it still knocked the wind out of you. Your hands were shaking on the steering wheel, your heart pounding in your ears louder than the car horn that wouldn’t stop blaring. 

You sat there, frozen, chest heaving as you tried to process what had just happened. Your ears were ringing, eyes darting around to make sense of the chaos. The taste of adrenaline coated your tongue, bitter and sharp.

People started to gather, voices muffled as if underwater. Someone knocked on the window, asking if you were okay, but all you could think about—stupidly, helplessly—was Rafe’s car. The one he waxed on weekends, the one he never let anyone else touch until you. And now it was ruined.

Your fingers struggled to unclasp the seatbelt. You were okay, you realized as you looked down to see whether there was blood or not. Maybe bruised, but okay. Still, tears welled up in your eyes from shock, guilt, and something else deeper you couldn’t quite name. A stranger helped you to get out of the car, holding you under your arm and asking you something, but you could not respond. Your eyes darted to another car, the men looking almost unbothered by what he had done. 

Just a few minutes later, an ambulance and police arrived, and you sat in the ambulance car, with a thin blanket over your shoulders, while a woman checked you. That’s when you saw Kelce and Topper walking nearby, and you could see the realization hit them, their faces changing. Topper whipped out his phone and started dialing. Kelce stood there, wide-eyed, like he’d just been in that car himself.

They didn’t even look at you at first.

Then the call ended. Fast.

“He hung up the second we told him.” Topper muttered, walking towards you looking with this weird mix of pity and disbelief. “He’s gonna lose it. You know how much he loves that car.”

“Yeah, he really fucking loves that car.” Kelce agreed, scratching the back of his head and looking at you with the same expression Topper did. “That’s literally his baby.”

You felt your stomach dropping, his friends’ words settling in and making your guilt even worse. Your hands trembled on your lap, whether from the adrenaline or from fear of Rafe’s anger. Would he snap? Would he hate you for that? You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to. 

But then he got there.

You saw Rafe before you even heard him. His blue truck was parked carelessly in the middle of the street, his eyes almost wild and hair in a mess, as he was scanning the people for you. He didn’t look at the wrecked car, the random people, or the police. Once his eyes found yours, he ran. 

Rafe felt like he could breathe again the moment his hands touched you. His arms wrapped around you so tight you could feel how hard he was shaking. Hands moved over you in frantic patterns—your face, your shoulders, your arms, your ribs—like he needed to feel each part of you to believe it wasn’t all some nightmare. 

The woman who was checking you looked at him sideways but didn’t say anything, probably noticing his trembling hands and wild eyes. She stepped aside, giving you some space, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

The warmth of his body and his familiar scent made you completely break down, nuzzling closer to him and sniffing. “I’m sorry.” You choked out, your voice barely audible, like the words were stuck in your throat. “I didn’t mean to take it—I just—I’m so sorry, Rafe.” You tugged at his shirt. “He-he crushed into me, I c-couldn’t do anything.”

Rafe pulled back, taking your face in his hands and shaking his head with a deep frown. The tears streamed freely down your face as all of the emotions finally got out. Rafe gently wiped them away with his thumbs, leaning even closer to you. “Sh-h, baby.” He mumbled. “I don’t give a fuck about the car, do you hear me? I thought you were hurt, I thought I might lose you.”

You stared at him, stunned. He didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, just cupped your face like he was anchoring himself there.

“That’s the only thing I care about. You hear me? Not the car. You.”

​​Topper shifted awkwardly, glancing between the wrecked car and the two of you, a strange tension hanging in the air. His gaze flickered back to Rafe, and after a beat of hesitation, he finally spoke up, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Wait, hold up. You’re seriously not gonna care that your car’s wrecked?” He asked bluntly, tone edged with a mix of confusion and judgment. “It’s a fucking mess, Rafe. It costs a shitload of money.”

Kelce, standing beside him, nodded along, a skeptical frown crossing his face. “Yeah, dude, you always lose your shit over stuff like this. She wasn’t supposed to take your car in the first place. You’re just gonna let her—”

Rafe cut him off before he could finish the sentence, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightened around you, pulling you a little closer, the protective instinct in him flaring up. “Shut the fuck up before I break your jaw.” He growled, his eyes hardening as he turned to face them, shielding you. “Don’t talk to her like that. Don’t even look at her. I’m not in the fucking mood for your dumbass jokes.”

Topper took a step back, hands raised in defense, his voice tight. "Hey, man, we were just—"

Rafe’s glare cut him off, his voice low but deadly. "I don’t give a shit about the fucking car, Top. My girl was in that car. You think I’m gonna give a damn about a stupid piece of metal when she could’ve got hurt?"

Kelce swallowed hard, clearly taken aback by Rafe’s intensity. "Rafe, we—"

"I said, shut the fuck up." Rafe repeated, stepping closer. "You wanna keep running your mouths, or do you wanna walk away with your teeth?"

For a moment, there was silence, the tension hanging thick in the air. The two of them just stood there, processing Rafe's fury, and then they both slowly backed away, glancing nervously at each other.

"Yeah... alright, man.” Topper muttered, still clearly rattled. "We get it."

“Then go.” Rafe didn’t take his eyes off them until they slowly turned and started to walk away, their pace quickening under his gaze. He exhaled sharply, shoulders still tense.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Rafe turned back to you, his face softening instantly, but there was still a fire in his eyes. He pulled you into his arms again, pressing his forehead against yours, the intensity of the moment lingering between you both.

"Don’t listen to them." He murmured, his breath shaky. "They don’t fucking get it. All I care about is you." His hands ran over your forearms to your neck. “And I promise that I’m gonna lock up the one who did it, baby. He will pay for it, for almost hurting you.”

You nodded, still shaken, but feeling a sense of relief wash over you as Rafe’s arms enveloped you again, grounding you in the safety of his presence.

[perpetualstargirl]

Girl Dad!?

a drabble in which Nanami is the girl dad.

"Here, I keep them on hand for the kids," Nanami says, handing Nobara a hairband from his pocket.

First comes Nobara's question. "Kids? Plural?"

"Nanami! How many kids do you have?" Yuji's voice rang out as Nanami stood beside Gojo, watching the first year students train.

"Four," The blonde haired man responded simply, checking his phone. A text from his beloved wife. He opens it with little hesitation. One picture, their little five month old daughter laid on her mother's chest. He smiles.

"Four kids?" Nobara asked in surprise.

"Four daughters," Nanami corrected her without glancing up from his phone. A second picture. His twin daughters, three years old, had drawn something together that his wife had sent him a picture of.

"Don't you get tired of all those girls in the house, Nanami?" Gojo asked, throwing an arm around Nanami's broad shoulders.

"No." Nanami responded, scowling. "Why would I?" He checks his watch with shimmery pink nails, the work of his eldest daughter. Underneath his brown business shoes and black socks held up by sock garters, his toenails matched, the same shimmery pink.

"Four kids and not one son?" Yuji asked, his big brown eyes gazing curiously at his teacher.

"Aren't you at least a little disappointed?" Gojo asked, cocking his head at his coworker.

"My genetics determined that we had daughters. I love them all dearly." Nanami spoke, shoving Gojo off of his shoulders.

"I have four daughters, and they look almost exactly like my beautiful wife. I'm more concerned about all the boys I'll have to fend off of my doorstep than I am about only having daughters." Nanami said proudly, a soft smile making it's way onto his usually stoic face.

"Now, if you don't mind, my wife says dinner will be done in 20. Have a nice day, everyone." And with that, Nanami Kento leaves, a big smile on his face. He can't wait to get home.