#except also pissed bc hes doing Bad Things and yeah

[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

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[toxictigertonic]

Alright, I've been cursed with new blorbos (don't worry DJ will always be my number one). Outlast trials has me in a chokehold, specifically Franco, but all the prime assets are running around in my brain causing problems. I'm subjecting you to my stupid food headcanons as a result:

COYLE

- This mother fucker drinks hot sauce. Like. Chugs the shit. You can't take him anywhere without him bringing a bottle of Tabasco.

- Takes his coffee black, but will add a little sugar if no one is looking. Can't let people know that he doesn't like plain black coffee.

- He feels like a big breakfast kinda guy, with all the fixings. If you took him to a diner that'd be what he'd get, no matter the time of day.

- Would he disgusted by energy drinks EXCEPT classic redbull. Now imagine this man hyped up on caffeine.

- Would still eat his scrambled eggs if he got shells in them. Would say some shit like "the shells put hair on your chest"

- Trusting this man to bake anything is a fire hazard, it doesn't matter if it's those pre cut cookie rolls, they're catching fire.

- Says he hates desserts then stares down a slice of pecan pie from across the room like it owes him money.

MOTHER GOOSEBERRY

- The only one I trust to cook tbh, and that's not saying much.

- If you took her to get coffee she'd get the sweetest thing on the menu (and Futterman would bitch and moan about it the whole time) or she'd get a chai latte. Futterman would demand a black coffee.

- I would trust her to make me an apple pie and then she'd put the drill in it bc the crust came out wrong.

- She feels like a woman who really likes jam. Maybe I am projecting but jam is cool.

- She will not touch an energy drink bc they taste bad to her, and bc Futterman would throw a fit about how bad they are for your teeth. No caffeine fueled death sprint for her, but based on her singing and the whole angel dust thing I don't think she needs it.

- I would make her pancakes she seems pretty cool.

- Likes the batter for desserts more than the finished products.

FRANCO

- God help us where do I begin

- On one hand I wanna say he makes some bomb ass Italian food. On the other hand I wanna say he burns cereal.

- Speaking of cereal, he's the kinda guy who let's his cereal turn to paste in the bowl before he eats it.

- Considering what we know about the wolf's milk drink, I'm frightened by this man's palette. Genuinely terrified.

- I think he would die if he tasted hot sauce. I think Coyle is aware of this fact and has plans.

- Give him an energy drink if you wanna see him start doing flips. He thinks they're gross but he's also like "fuck yeah pure sugar I love these"

- Likes his cookies so underdone that they're basically raw (me too chief)

- If you cooked him a homemade meal he'd cry while eating it. Then he'd get pissed because you made him cry.

- He's my little skrunkly doo so I'm feeding him wet plaster ❤️

If I'm wrong about anything bc it's actually stated in the lore I do not care tell Red Barrels to get their facts straight (/J I SWEAR)

I haven't had time to look at Gooseberry's or Coyle's lore so I don't know if they have some super important amazing cooking skills that I'm missing out on. Feel free to tell me if you think I'm wrong or have your own ideas about these idiots.

[my-pjo-stuff]

I was rereading the pjo books to write fanfiction and all. I stumbled on a lot of mischaracterization, you pointed a lot of them, specially about how Rick keeps trying to make big world events include his characters(probably to make it easier to kids and all).

But one thing that always piss me off is how he makes the demigods so one sided, a demigod has to have a specific personality because of their divine heritage, one example I see a lot is Annabeth, specially from the first books.

My question is, how would you change them?

And btw, love your blog, throwing straight facts❤️❤️

Aww thank you so much! And also to be quite frank, I never even thought of that. I was so focused on more glaring writing issues that I completely glossed over that- but now that I give it some thought....Yeah, you're right. You are SO right. And here's what I would do : Starting off with Annabeth since you mentioned her, for her I'd probably bring in more hints towards her being basically raised by Luke. As it stands in the books their relationship is mostly tell-don't-show with the exception of maybe BoTL and TLO. So to counteract that I'd give her more rebellious streaks, and especially make her more skeptical towards the gods. She saw what they did to Luke and Thalia- so having her just blindly follow them seems a bit....weird. You don't need her to be outright resentful ofc, I'd change it towards Annabeth being a "just learn to live with the shitty situation bc we can't change it " instead of a "this is fine actually!" type of character. I'd also include her "ADHD" more, show her actual struggle with classical school stuff. Show that intelligence doesn't equal wisdom, maybe even make her relatively bad in school due to lacking the normal education children her age should have recieved. Clarisse meanwhile I'd actually make smarter. War, as brutal as it is, also included a lot of strategy. Her goal was to make her father proud by victory in battle. So I'd keep her personality and general attitude the same, but make it so that she was also a good battle strategist. She could study historic battles, aswell as have a great amount of knowledge on weapons. Basically make Clarrise that one classmate in high school who was able to list all the tanks of WW2 by full name alongside their functions and other stats, ASWELL as a war history buff. It would keep her original war like personality while showing that Ares kids are very much not stupid. I'd probably try to give Nico some more nerdy aspects back. He still a teen even if he "grew out of it" and it WAS quite a big part of his character when he was first introduced. I'd have him be genuinely passionate about some topic- perhaps a favorite show or even just mythology. Mainly so Nico can have something to actually make him happy and to be excited about instead of just being "emo, dark, angsty Hades kid". Will Solace I'd give literally any kind of characterization before he got it on with Nico. The Aphrodite cabin as a whole would get a LOT of sisterly bonding from me. Like instead of having them be the "catty, dumb, mean girls of camp" make them the tightest-knit cabin. Show them actually bonding and being genuinely protective with each other. Also give Aphrodite some sons. That's all I can rly think about in the moment, feel free to add something if anyone has any ideas!

[retributory]

Thank you for the post saying Binghe wouldn't care if he found out Shen Yuan replaced Shen Jiu, I saw a post on that danmei confessions blog that was something like "Shen Yuan being compared to Helen of Troy is accurate bc they both bring ruin to those around them, since if people found out about Shen Yuan then Cang Diong would want Shen Jiu's body back for a burial (so they would basically exorcise Shen Yuan out of it I guess and he'd die again) and Luo Binghe would break up with him for not being able to trust him anymore" and that pissed me off so much bc like. Worstie how can you read the novel and be this wrong about everything in it. Personally I don't think people know Shen Yuan replaced Shen Jiu (except maybe Binghe) but if they found out about how he was forced to due to the System, like he was a hostage and cursed by some entity, they certainly wouldn't blame him or force him to leave. I mean literally the only person who would mourn Shen Jiu is Yue Qingyuan, and he likes the current Shen Yuan too! He wouldn't want him dead either. Idk how some people can misinterpret a novel's point this bad but I wish they'd stop talking about it as if they're facts

yeah idk the average user on that blog appears to be reading entirely different novels and you go in the notes and people are nodding sagely as if the posts make sense. like if the actual text of the novel disagrees with you i think you're just wrong lol.

and yeah they . . . pretty much have already guessed it isn't shen jiu anyways. like they don't know who it IS, or what exactly the truth of the situation is, because the system and such are out of their scope of knowledge, but they're quite confident in running theories like "qi deviation-induced amnesia and personality change," so they don't consider him the same guy anyways. they were actively shocked it WASN'T possession (though the possession theory is kind of correct. lol). it's also so weird to think that cqms would (for lack of nicer terms) give a fuck at all if sy DID maliciously possess sj. in the original timeline it's made pretty clear no one comes to sj's defense except yqy, because sj specifically desires that outcome. sj isn't some helpless baby at the whims of everyone around him - he specifically and intentionally seeks to ruin his own life and the lives of everyone around him, or at the very least make them as miserable around him as possible. thus, no one else likes or misses him at all, and in fact every peak lord at that meeting was jumping for joy that they got Other Guy instead of sj, which is a contributing factor to why they just decide to simply not call him out on it.

i also think (says guy who posts about svsss 3 times a day) people are like. taking it too serious. you're not supposed to be seriously considering lines of thought like that because svsss is a transmigration parody novel of xianxia power fantasies - whatever exists in the background exists purely to support the world of this satire. and while that certainly is a fun topic for meta - i enjoy reading posts like that! - it becomes irritating when the meta is framed as if somehow you are in the wrong for enjoying a novel the way it was intended to be enjoyed by the author, and that the only True way to enjoy it is through enlightened meta-contextual analysis that assumes all the characters are actually different people.

someone on that blog was like "why doesn't svsss expand on the lore and fights and characters!!!" because they don't matter to the story my friend. not every novel is lord of the rings. this is xianxia transmigration parody novel my friend. just read . . . an actual stallion novel. actually really do that because then you'll form a connection with sy because these things are written SO bad and then you'll understand him LMFAO

[nightlight-stardust-and-rain]

So. Predatory species Obi-wan.

Mostly I just think it's funny to make him a predator bc if you take all the SW character and go "which one looks more likely to eat someone" Obi-Wan would definitely not be it. Not even top 20. He's much more likely to deliver a devastating burn with a flat tone lmao but anyway!

Specifically, Obi-wan being from a species who's pretty damn known for eating people. Like, it's not the only thing they can eat but a...... Something big happened a while ago and the galaxy never really forgot. Nowadays Stewjoni people don't really eat anyone but it's.... Mostly because they don't leave their planet. The predatory instincts are definitely here (Quinlan wears proof of that because once when they were teenagers he made the mistake of pissing obi-wan off and letting his finger wander a bit too close and long story short, Obi-wan bit him so hard he severed Quinlan's finger and they had to go to a healer really fast. Obi-wan felt super guilty for a while but Quinlan annoyed him into forgiving himself. Nowadays he's more embarassed that he lost control so bad. Quinlan thinks it was hilarious and that he definitely expected to get bitten but he didn't expect the result.)

Mostly the instincts are just Obi-wan really wanting to bite people when they're annoying and maybe wanting to chase people if they turn their back to him and run. Also headbutting people to show affection, which became a Whole Thing™ when he was on Mandalore. He doesn't really thinks about how people would taste until he's hungry and he's really good at controlling himself.

But basically this whole thing came from an idea I had with Alpha-17!

Basically it's like. Obi-wan being a predatory species is a bit of a secret bc like.... It's not like he'd be killed if people knew but Stewjoni still have a really bad reputation. So he doesn't like to talk about it. And people don't really know because he looks so mild-mannered and he smiles with his mouth closed so you can't see the teeth and he hides his hands in his sleeves because otherwise he picks at his skin which is not good when one has claws.

Okay so the clones don't know Obi-wan is from a predatory species. He's not hiding it, but when the clones see him headbutt Anakin like an affectionate Tooka they either go "maybe that's a nat-born thing" or "maybe that's a Jedi thing" or "makes sense, my batch mate like keldabe kisses too". Due to their childhood they have literally no idea of what is Normal Human Behavior so they don't notice that Obi-Wan isn't human.

Point is, Obi-wan and Alpha-17 get captured by Ventress and she tries to sow discord by being all "how can you trust a predator ? Unless you didn't know what he was? Then how can you trust something that hides what it is" basically she's just trying to get Alpha to distrust Obi-wan so he won't try to help him escape.

Obi-Wan's kind of expecting.... Not fear, exactly. Alpha-17 sort of doesn't do fear. But he's expecting some agressivity at least. Some wariness.

Except Alpha is just mostly outraged. How come Kenobi, who won't even kill a few annoying senators, gets the biological advantages that comes with being a predator?? That's so unfair. This idiot wouldn't even think about eating anyone. Alpha could use the biology way better! He would have loved to be able to eat a few kaminoans!! That's fucking unfair. How come his Jedi gets sharp fangs and he doesn't?? UN. FAIR.

Lmao yeah the whole plot is basically just Alpha-17 being offended that his pacifist of a general won the genetic lottery while he (who would have used the fangs as they're meant to be used!!) didn't. Boo.

(Obi-wan is wondering why Alpha-17 and Anakin don't get along better because they have startlingly similar reactions to learning about his species)

[itsjaywalkers]

laurie do you have any spare boxer!barty headcanons… from boxer james au…

SAINTS ANYTHING FOR U BABE U KNOW THIS

*cracks knuckles* okay so

he fights very methodically, almost like he's fucking possessed sometimes BUT his rivals still have a hard time reading him and predicting his moves bc he's also . reckless . and will break routine all of a sudden with the most dangerous combination u can think of

a lot of ppl are convinced he plays dirty or even cheats but the truth is that he's just Good and really fucking smart

as in, the thing about boxer barty is that he can get a read on his rivals during the first handful of seconds

yes he's strong yes he's a wild card and yes he has the technique but what makes him win at the end is his ability to . get into his opponent's head

the exception to this is james and not bc barty can't read him. it's simply that the hatred they profess each other is so visceral he just goes fucking Feral. both of them do

speaking of, they rarely get to finish their matches bc they always end up disqualified halfway through bc it gets Nasty pretty quickly when those two are involved

he's been on so many scandals. So Many. it's sort of ruined his reputation but his fans think is part of his charm

like . you know how athletes are very careful when it comes to their public images and take care of their bodies or whatever . yeah barty doesn't give a fuck about that and you WILL see a headline about him getting blackout drunk after one of his victories

this is mostly due to how controlling his father used to be back when barty was still under his thumb

in a way, most of what barty does has something to do with his father one way or another

everyone knows they had a very bad fallout like . it's public knowledge but since they don't have the details they're all soooo curious

interviewers know not to bring barty's dad up tho bc barty has flipped his shit before and on national television too so . they stray away from the topic completely

he's anti pr. his team has tried to clean up his act so many times. it never works. they've given up. at this point they're just ready to do some damage control

most of his money goes to his mother (his parents are divorced in this one and since his dad left her with pretty much nothing after they broke things off, barty took it upon himself to take care of her)

in fact, he lives with her

whenever barty loses a fight is Always on purpose

because he's obsessed with a certain nurse.. so he lets himself get beaten up from time to time just so he has an excuse to go see said nurse.. (it's evan. evan is the nurse)

evan is odd and offputing and he doesn't seem to like barty very much BUT he does seem to enjoy the sight of blood.. and analysing ppl's injuries even more than he does fixing them up.. so barty's happy to let him poke around

one time he lost a couple of teeth after a especially hard punch and while they tried to check his head and take him to the hospital barty's only concern was finding his lost teeth so he could bring them to evan

his friendship with regulus starts off as him finding reg Hot while simultaneously wanting to piss james off

but they end up Clicking and reg is the very first person barty opens up with about his dad + everything that happened with his mum

he had a thing with lily a while ago but it was mostly casual and he broke it off as soon as he found about her also sleeping with james.. they're still friends tho!! and barty is very fond of her

his first kiss with evan happens after he's dizzy and very out of it bc of the amount of blood evan just took from him (he spends more than a week thinking he dreamt it)

honestly most of his appointments with evan can be summarised by barty getting a lot of random erections and evan blinking at him with his dead brown eyes while he pokes around his body and worsens every single one of his injuries (before actually patching him up)

and im gonna stop myself there bc this is getting out of hand

[thelovelylolly]

Hobie gotta beat a mf up cause they stared being a misogynistic asshole to his girl🙏🏽🙏🏽

Problem?

Summary: You start your dream job as a journalist, only to have a sexist co-worker and your boyfriend won't let that slide. Warnings: a misogynistic man (icky icky), fem! reader (she/her pronouns used), not proof read bc im tired, let me know if i missed anything :) Notes: hobie would NOT let that behavior slide period

You loved your job. It was your dream since middle school to be a journalist at one of the top news companies. It was everything you wanted, and more. You had the freedom to investigate what you wanted, when you wanted. You had control over how your stories looked in the paper and online, and you weren't as censored as other places were. It was perfect, except one thing.

Your co-worker, James, wasn't the most...welcoming to you or your ideas. You preferred stories about everyday people doing good things in your community, or focusing on local and small businesses. He thought that your stories weren't as gripping or enticing as they needed, and told you to try harder.

At first, you thought it was just because you were a new employee. But when his targeted critiques didn't stop, you realized it was something else. He wouldn't say the same things to your male counterparts. He also didn't respect your assistant, a sweet girl who needed a job during college. He treated her like garbage, which pissed you off even more.

You had a meeting with all the journalists to get updated on what everyone was investigating and reporting on. When you stood up and explained what you were doing, a simple piece about a bakery owned by a sweet lady and her girlfriend, James rolled his eyes and leaned over to his buddy to whisper something.

"I'm sorry, James, but I'm talking right now. You whispering is distracting me and getting me off track, I'd appreciate if you'd stop," you said calmly, trying to call him out as well.

He sighed dramatically. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to hurt your precious feelings."

You wanted to slap him, but you took a deep breath and went back to what you were talking about.

----

You kicked your door shut behind you and dropped your things next to it. "Hobie, I'm home!"

You walked into your living room where Hobie was on the couch, tuning his guitar. He looked up and smiled, immediately setting his guitar aside and going over to you.

"Hey, love, how was work?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek and giving you a hug.

You grumbled and hid your face in his neck.

"That bad, huh?"

You pulled away from him, pacing up and down the room. "It's my god damn co-worker! He doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut! All he does is criticize me and belittle me, along with the other women in the office, but not with the guys! That sexist piece of shit! It's just...I hate it and I can't do anything with causing a HR nightmare, and I don't wanna lose this job, Hobie. It means so much to me and I…I just can’t lose it.”

You stop and wipe the frustrated tears that had slipped down your cheeks. You look at Hobie and give him a wobbly smile. “‘M sorry, didn’t mean to explode on you like that.”

“Don’t apologize, babe. You’re frustrated, I get it,” he replied, walking over to you and running his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “How ‘bout we order your favorite take out, yeah?”

“And we can watch my favorite movie?”

“Anything you want, love.”

----

On his patrol as Spider-Man, Hobie kept his eye out for your…problematic co-worker. He didn’t know what the guy looked like, but he could figure it out. He swung by your office and took a look inside.

There was only two people left, a man and a woman. He was at his desk, sipping some drink and yelling at the poor woman who was just trying to organize some files. He eyed her like a piece of candy and yelled at her for putting the papers in the wrong place. Then, he stood up and grabbed his things before heading to the door.

Bingo.

Hobie swung down to the front doors of the building and waited for the man to walk out. A few minutes later, the man strolled out on the phone.

“Exactly, Tim. I don’t get why she got hired. She just does some stories with zero…what’s the word, content to them? I don’t know, it’s just a matter of time until she gets hit with reality. She even had the nerve to stand up to me-“

“Pardon me, mate,” Hobie said, catching the man’s attention.

The man froze at the sight of Spider-Man, hanging up the phone. Hobie glanced at his badge and saw his name.

“James, is it? Well, I heard you were giving the women you work with some grief.”

“W-what do you want?” James stuttered.

Hobie started to back him into a corner. “You know how Spider-Man believes in…fairness and what not?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Well, I believe your attitude isn’t very fair to your co-workers.”

“Listen, man, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I-“

Hobie didn’t let him finish, giving him a shove back to cut him off.

“Consider this your warning, James,” Hobie said in a low tone. “Stay away from my girl, and you won’t see me again.”

With that, he swung away, leaving James shaking like a leaf.

----

The next day, when you got home from work, you immediately went to Hobie. He was in the kitchen, fixing some dinner for the two of you.

“Hey, babe, how was work?” He asked, putting his spoon down and going to you to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“It was…good. James didn’t bother me at all, or any of the girls, actually. It was weird, but I’m not complaining.”

Hobie hummed and went back to his cooking. You tilted your head to the side, confused at his reaction. You hopped up onto the counter next to where he was working.

“Hobie…did you do something?” You asked.

“What? Nah, I don’t even know this guy,” he answered.

"Hm, okay," you said. You hopped off the counter, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and went to get changed.

Hobie smiled to himself, knowing that James wouldn't mess with you anymore.

[feng-shui71]

Combining these 2 asks since they’re both about Vamp! Au Junior and Alvina

Actual info is below cut, more extra doodles at the end as usual bc i’m allergic to making 1 doodle per ask:

Ok so first off, yeah they still do have children in this Au except obviously Junior and Alvina are Dhampirs, half-human and half-vampire hybrids. I like to think the two are less powerful than Wesker, as they aren’t a pure vampire like him, however some abilities of his have been passed down to either of them, including shapeshifting and flight. Unlike Wesker, the two can also roam freely for the most part when the sun is out, their skin is just more sensitive and will burn if they are exposed for too long without any protective measures such as sunscreen or aloe vera. I like to think they were still concieved due to Vampsker being a former vampire hunter himself, being the Captain of him and Jordan’s team until he let it slip one day, kinda like the Vamp! Au equivalent of S.T.A.R.S. (will expand on this later if u guys want I havent put much thought into it)

In terms of living, the two are with Jordan. Unlike the regular Resident Evil universe, Vamp! Wesker does want to play a part in his childrens lives, however due to Jordan’s fear of him she doesn’t allow them to see their father, believing that he’d be a bad influence for the two (she is completely right in this case.) and honestly is just horrified that he’d harm them, Vampsker loves Jordan but he throws her around like a ragdoll, a mere plaything that he can cut into and bruise when he’s feeling a bit bored. It’s no wonder she doesn’t want them to interact, it’s one thing for her to get hurt (which she kinda likes, you’ll never get her to admit this though,) but for Wesker to rough up her children? yeah no. Every so often after their routine hunt, Vampsker begs Jordan to let him see them, which after some convincing she does, internally cursing herself for still being somewhat soft for him. I think Junior and Alvina both yearn for Wesker’s attention in this Au due to Jordan’s restriction, the man influencing both of them wayy more since his absence isn’t his choice. This is an absolute nightmare for Jordan, Junior is 10x worse in his mischievous behaviour and causes problems all the fucking time, ranging from some dumb prank to literally disemboweling a man and eating him alive to satiate his blood thirst. Alvina isn’t as bad but she’s still an evil little shit due to her vampire genes, way more sheltered than regular Vina too. Alongside this, the rift Jordan put between Wesker and the kids causes resentment between her and them, however I like to think they’re still somewhat close in this Au due to her protectiveness towards them, don’t get me wrong though they’re still super pissed at her all the time and just want some freedom + attention from their dad, they get her concerns but want her to lay off, it’s suffocating.

umm also ik Alvina’s the only white one complexion wise but Junior gets whitewashed here too unfortunately bc of his vamp genes <\\\3 goodbye melanin

ok doodle:

[mystic-writings]

emergency contact | jack hodgins

pairing — jack hodgins x fem!booth!reader

summary — hodgins hasn’t heard from you in over six months, after you broke up with him and disappeared. until he gets an alarming phone call in the middle of the night

warnings — angst, canon-typical violence, mentions of death

word count — 2,528

notes — a few things: i wrote this back in january, and it was rushed and poorly done but im being self-indulgent for this one | also im not tagging anyone bc i wanna see how far this will get on its own (except for my beloved @shmaptainwrites who indulged me ily mimi)

masterlist | navigation

2:47am

Despite his many years working for the Jeffersonian, Hodgins had yet to get used to his phone ringing at odd hours. With a groan and a stretch, his palm landed where his phone lay on the nightstand table. Without checking the caller ID, he picked up the phone and slurred out a tired greeting to the caller on the other line.

“Hello, Dr. Hodgins, I’m Marie, calling from the George Washington University Hospital.” Why was a hospital calling him so late at night? “You’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/n Booth, correct?”

Your name sent a shock through Jack’s body. “I— I guess so, yeah. Why? Is she okay?”

“Your fiancée was shot on duty, sir. She’s in surgery right now. We suggest you be with her when she wakes up.”

Without a second thought, Jack hung up the phone and flung out of bed. He didn’t care how things ended between the two of you, good or bad, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed to make sure you were okay. After scrambling for a decent set of clothing and his car keys, Jack rushed out of the house and down the near-empty streets to the hospital you were taken to. 

Even though his mind was running at a mile a minute, Jack managed to recall what the nurse had told him. Shot on duty. You took a sabbatical seven months ago, were you back in town? Surely Booth must’ve known, he was your brother and co-worker, he had to have. Did he spare telling Jack to avoid the inevitable turmoil? Obviously you’d been back long enough to take a case, so it wasn’t like you had decided to come back out of the blue. 

By the time he found parking, it was half past 3 in the morning, and Jack’s heart refused to stop beating out of his chest, his palms sweating rivers as he clenched and unclenched them. Despite all of this, though, he approached the front desk with a cracking resolve, trying his best to be put together for the sake of not distressing the night staff and lingering patient family members. 

“Could you tell me where Y/n Booth is?”

The nurse behind the counter glanced up at him. “Connection to the patient?”

“I’m her-” he stumbled on the words. “Her, uh, fiancé. Emergency contact.” 

She typed a few things into the computer when a voice from behind caught Jack’s attention. 

“Hodgins.” Booth called, approaching with a weary face and a cup of likely burnt coffee.

Jack nearly sprinted over to the man, blue eyes frantically searching for answers in his features. “What’s up, man? I mean, what the hell happened?”

Booth took Hodgins by the arm and led him down a hallway, over to the elevators. “We were going after a perp. I told her not to go in first, that I’d handle the hard part. She didn’t listen, the bastard got her from behind, shot out one of her kidneys. Been in surgery for almost,” he checked his watch, “three hours now.” 

Jack deflated just as the elevator doors dinged open. The pair stepped inside, the space empty apart from themselves. “I just— I don’t get it. Yesterday, she was somewhere even I didn’t know, taking some damn sabbatical. Yesterday, I was still pissed at her. Now? She’s in surgery because she was on a case. Because some asshole shot her. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with that, Booth?”

Unable to provide any kind of emotional support or response, Booth remained quiet as his friend tried his best not to break down in the elevator. 

When the doors opened, Jack attempted to regain his composure as best as he could while Booth led him down the hall. There was a separate waiting room here, for family members who had someone in surgery. He sat opposite Booth, next to a sleeping little girl and her obviously exhausted mother. 

He had no bearing of the passage of time, and felt as though there was no energy left within him to check the watch on his wrist. All he did was sit with his hands on his knees, head tilted to the sky, one leg bouncing like an infinite rubber ball. At some point, a doctor came out to notify the mother of her husband’s successful surgery — his tumor was gone, he’d told her, and there was little chance of it coming back. 

It wasn’t until the sun started to peek in through the waiting room windows that a surgeon called out your name. Booth had been asleep in the chair across from Jack, but he was wide awake. The pair jumped up and approached the doctor, throwing questions at him rapidly. 

“Y/n is okay. Surgery went well, though we’ll have to keep her here for longer than expected.”

“Why? What happened?” Booth asked. 

The doctor sighed. “Due to the location of the entry wound, the bullet caused too much damage to her right kidney. For now, she’ll only be functioning with one until we can find a donor match. She’ll be on dialysis weekly and some medication to assist the working kidney, but otherwise, she’ll be just fine in a week or so. The bullet did puncture the liver and small intestine, but the speed of the bullet slowed enough to only cause minor damage, nothing we couldn’t fix up.” He told them, and a wave of relief crashed over the pair. “She’s being brought up to her room now, if you’d like to go wait with her.”

Jack only nodded, Booth trailing him as the doctor led them up one more floor, where you were being transferred to the ICU. It was painful, seeing you after so  long, only for you to be hooked up to so many machines, laying nearly helpless in a bed. He pulled a chair up to your right side, reaching for your limp hand to hold, hoping you could feel him. 

Hoping you knew he was there. That you knew he always would be.

Booth leaned against the door frame, watching everything with anguish. After you left for California, you kept in constant contact with your older brother. But even in those months, you never explained why you broke off the engagement so suddenly. Why you took a surprise sabbatical, why you went to California specifically. Why you became so closed off, so cold to everyone, even to Parker. 

After a while, Booth left Jack alone to go pick up Parker from his mother’s house. He promised to be back later, your nephew in tow, and pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead before he left. 

Jack, swimming in an ocean’s worth of thought, barely noticed the sun coming over the horizon in the window opposite him. All he could do was process the emotions flowing through him. Anger, that you left him so suddenly and without explanation. Despair, that you’d come back so long ago and didn’t come to see him, to work things out. Worry, that despite your life-saving surgery, you wouldn’t get a new kidney, or that you’d never be the same again. Anger again, but at the bastard who shot you. Triumph, that he was rotting in a cell right now. 

 Jack’s only comfort in the sterile, whitewashed room was the steady beeping emanating from the heart monitor, a small assurance that you were okay. His hand remained clasped over yours for hours, thumb stroking the smooth skin on the back of your hand. Partly as a comfort to himself that you were still there, but mostly, he believed, a comfort to you. He hoped you could feel it; that you could feel his presence. He hoped his presence comforted you. 

By the time you woke up, all the worry had faded from Jack’s body and exhaustion had taken its place. He was asleep, head supported by his arm on the side of the chair, when he heard the sheets rustle in the bed. 

Somehow, in all your years of work, this was the first time you ended up in the hospital due to a job-related injury. It wasn’t the first time you woke up dazed after a surgery with little memory of how you got there, though. 

The sheets, despite being thin, weighed down your legs and torso, providing warmth and comfort. You could feel the leads for the heart monitor stuck to your chest, irritating your skin in the slightest bit. There was a cannula feeding oxygen into your system, though it rubbed the skin on the back of your ears uncomfortably. The main thing, though, was that your torso hurt. 

Despite that, you managed to notice something weighing down your right hand. It was warm, warmer than the blankets. And heavier. Garnering the courage to open your eyes, you blinked to adjust to the sunlight and fluorescent lights, trying to shift yourself upward, wincing when it pulled on your wound. Instead, you glanced over at your hand, only to find another on top of it. Following the arm connected to it, your heart stuttered and cracked when you found a sleeping Hodgins sitting next to your bed. Emotion swelled within your chest and tear ducts just at the sight of him, sleeping so peacefully next to you, his hand over yours in a firm grasp, as if that was the only thing that assured him that you were really here. 

Slowly, quietly, you tried to pull your hand out from under Jack’s, only for the movement to wake him up. He stretched with a deep inhale, blinking rapidly as he took in his surroundings. It wasn’t until he noticed you were awake that he seemed to come to his senses. 

“Hey,” he nearly whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

You bit back a scoff. “Terrible. First job back and of course I had to get myself shot.” 

Jack fought a smile, scooting forward to raise the bed up for you to sit properly. “They said they got all the fragments of the bullet during surgery. You’re down a kidney for now, though.”

You only nodded, allowing yourself some time to gather your thoughts. “Why are you here, Hodgins?”

“Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact.” He told you, sitting back down and resting his elbows on his knees. “And apparently, I still care about you enough to show up.” 

“Don’t put that on me.” You whispered, chest restricting as tears fought their way back to your waterline. “You can’t say that to me. Not after what I did to you. You should hate me. I mean, really hate me. Like, praying for my downfall, kind of hate. You shouldn’t still care about me.”

“Well, apparently I do. I thought I hated you, for a long time. But I guess I don’t.” Jack sighed,  taking your hand. You wanted to protest, to pull away, but you let him. “I guess this was a wakeup call for me. Literally. They called me at 3 in the morning to tell me you were in surgery.”

You laughed, a wet sound underlined with sadness. “I’m sorry, Jack. Really, I am. I just…”

“What, don’t love me? It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it.” 

Even when he should hate you, Jack still understood, and even worse, he still loved you. He was, somehow, the world’s most understanding man. God, you love him. 

“No, no I don’t hate you. Actually, it’s the opposite. I just wish things could’ve gone differently.” 

Now Jack was just confused. “What d’you mean? You broke up with me for a reason, right? You told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

“It’s too complicated, Jack. I want to explain it all to you, really, but it’s not safe. I don’t know if or when it will be, and I won’t blame you if you want to find someone else, or if you already have. You deserve to be happy, Jack. You should move on from me.” 

“I don’t want anyone else.” Jack said, emphasizing each word and squeezing your hand. “I just want you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were it for me, Y/n. Even with your brother breathing down my neck to not even think about pursuing our relationship. It was terrifying, but I ignored it. Because you were too important to have in my life. I couldn’t risk passing you up. I just don’t understand why you ended things so suddenly.”

The tears that you had been attempting to keep at bay for this entire conversation now flowed freely down your cheeks, the emotions you’d kept close to your chest for nearly a year now breaking free. Jack, like the gentleman he was, gently tilted your head toward him, reaching up and using the pads of his thumbs to brush them from your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, daring to look him in the eye. 

“Don’t be.” He whispered. 

“I have to be. I hurt you. I ruined everything. And it wasn’t even worth it. It  didn’t change anything.”

Despite his confusion, Jack said nothing. He simply stood to his full height and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his chest — minding your wounds and stroking your hair. “It’s okay. You’re home now. We can fix this.”

“No we can’t.” You shook your head, looking up at him. “Jack, there’s nothing left to fix. Because if we fix it, you’ll die.” 

After what felt like an eternity of swirling, spiraling thoughts, Jack found his voice. “What?”

“That’s why I left.” You said. “I was ordered to. I was working on a case, some underground organized crime syndicate. I found out some stuff I shouldn’t have. My hands were tied, I had no choice.” Choking back a sob, you wiped the tears from your face and took a breath. “It was either break up with you, call off the wedding, and leave, or everyone I loved would die. They were gonna kill you, kill Seeley and Parker, and drain your accounts. There was nothing I could do.” 

Jack pulled you in tighter, his whole worldview shifting and turning on an axis. He couldn’t speak — hell, he could barely even think right now. Jack had spent months grieving your relationship, questioning why you broke things off, harboring a ruthless anger at what his life had become, and all of it faded to dust in an instant. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, pulling Jack back to the present. “I work with these people, Jack. They could ruin me in an instant.” 

“We’ll fix this, I promise.” Jack declared, and despite the fear that had overridden your senses for the past few months, you couldn’t help but believe him. 

You only nodded, curling further into him as best as you could with your incisions. Fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie, you listened to the beat of his heart beneath you and took a deep breath. 

Soon enough, you were drifting off to sleep with the firm belief that soon enough, with the help of your family, somehow, everything would be okay. 

if you want more jack fics, please feel free to comment and let me know!! writing for smaller characters is always a gamble but if people read this i’d be more than happy to do so!

[transmasculinizing]

HIP HIP HOORAY! THE COUNCIL HAS SPOKEN USING THE LANGUAGE OF HEART BUTTON. iv permission to be annoying!

so this has been brought to my attention after seeing the reaction to the new robin movie announcement. elseworlds has really fucked up dc fans understanding of how adaptations work im so serious.

im not saying this bc elseworlds stories r bad. quite the opposite i love these comics (batman n dracula trilogy u changed my brain chemistry ily bbgrl) no im entirely talking about elseworlds as a brand. i am talking about how these stories r marketed bc it has done irreparable damage im thinking.

so the thing about dc? they want u to know what a characters whole deal is. batmans real name is bruce wayne and hes a rich orphan who protects gotham city. superman is an alien whose planet blew up and he landed in kansas as a baby where he was given the name clark kent and was raised on a farm then he moved to metropolis to become a reporter. these characters have a certain way they hav to be and their stories r supposed to be. if ur adaptation of the story strays to far from this no problem we'll just label it as elseworlds. except not really they dont always do that.

case in point: the new robin movie that was literally just announced and doesnt even have a trailer yet. yeah well theyre making jason and dick around the same age. people cant be normal about this. "oh this will be so many peoples first introduction to the characters and this isnt how theyre supposed to be!" calm down. this is an all new version of the characters we havnt seen before. the point of an adaptation is not to be identical to the original. at that point just read the original. what do i mean by this? well-

another large franchise i love is godzilla. literally the only thing the godzilla movies and shows have in common is they have a giant lizard in them. you dont need to know what this guys whole deal is to call yourself a fan. do i highly recommend u watch the original 1954 movie and learn a bit about the history of the franchise if u got into it through some of the more recent godzilla media? yes but obviously i cant force u to do any of that. a lot of these movies straight up do not take place in the same universe. theyre different godzillas. one godzilla isnt "destroying" peoples perception of what godzilla is because its different from the original movie that has a completely different godzilla.

none the less before people jump to conclusions i want to make 1 thing clear: learn the rules before you break them. there have been changes made to the story before that i think r disrespectful to what the 1954 movie originally was. its easy to skim past if u dont know the characters history. for example in godzilla king of the monsters 2019 (and im not dunking on u if u like the movie bc i do also. that doesnt mean im not above criticizing it however) they have the only Japanese character get killed off by using a nuclear weapon to awaken godzilla.in this usamerican adaptation.of a movie that was made.as a metaphor for the bombings of Hiroshima.yeah that is a major yikes.

so yeah this is what i mean when i say learn the rules before you break them. it can be obvious that u either dont like what ur adapting or missing the point or just straight up havnt watched or read it none the less one adaptation doing things differently doesnt automatically mean its disrespecting the source material.

i think dc really shoots itself in the foot by making it so you have to know what every characters whole deal is and if u stray to far from that its labeled elseworlds. then when something isnt labeled as elseworlds fans get pissed at how inaccurate it is. monsterverse isnt marketed as "an alternate universe where godzilla is a million year old alien" its just godzilla. now u could say comparing this to godzilla is unfair because hes barely a character. hes a giant lizard and directors r supposed to play around with him like a barbie doll. so heres another comparison that ive already made a bunch

in mainline tmnt idw comics the turtles r reincarnated from a bunch of kids in medieval japan. this is not in any other version. in mutant mayhem the turtles go to school. this isnt in any other version. adaptations usually flip back and forth on if splinter is mutated hamato yoshi or hamato yoshi's mutated pet rat. the 4 main turtles personalities vary widely depending on adaptation bc "leader, angry, smart and funny" arent personality traits so much as they r quirks. depending on how old someone is they might have a different idea of what the lore of tmnt is if they arent super into the franchise and only know the show/movies/comics they grew up with. this is really not a big deal at all. two people having different ideas of what a character is like bc they were exposed to them from different adaptations is not as big of a deal as dc fans pretend it is. before the the tim burton movies a lot of peoples perception of batman came from the 66 show and that 1 is.very different from how the average joe would think of batman today. and that wasnt the end of the world either! again people can and should learn the history of these stories but complaining about how bad a version of the story a newcomer might like is bc its not like the one u like isnt going to make them wanna look deeper into the franchise. we should be calmly approaching these newer fans and giving recommendations and reading list if they show interest in a character or story

like literally there is a lot of criticism u could make about yjtv but it boils my blood how much bad faith criticism iv seen that can just be summarized as "this is not how this character should be". because i guess there r just definitive versions of characters now

look im not even saying if an adaptation is different u still have to like it. i actually hate a lot of adaptations bc theyre different from what i like. but the opposite is also true. there r adaptations i like bc what they do differently. something being different doesnt automatically make it good or bad is what im trying to say so now that brings us back to elseworlds.like not sorry it shouldve stayed dead.not the stories just the name elseworlds. i really dont like dc bringing back elseworlds. the whole concept just feels creatively limiting. these are just different continuities and should be treated as such. there being a certain way a story should be written and having to warn people if u stray to far away from that story and getting yelled at if u dont is what i mean! do u see the issue here am i making sense

[bee-a-garbage-shipper]

trans!tim + pregnancy

tim, because he's an idiot with no self preservation, decides to stalk the red hood when he first shows up

he ends up finding one of red hoof's safe houses and decides that breaking in is a good idea

he's shifting through some paperwork when he's suddenly being pushed against the floor by a wall of muscle

obviously jason is pissed, he wants to know what his replacement is doing here

except tim is busy trying not to be to horny because yes the red hood is hot and yes this is like something straight out of one of his favorite fantasies but it is not the time

jason notices and decides to being an ass calling tim a slut

tim takes offense

"i'm still a virgin because i couldn't even sleep with my own girlfriend because i was too busy feeling guilty for being in love with someone else"

which causes jason to roll his eyes because tim could have easily pursued whoever it was instead

"sorry but i'm not into necrophilia"

which ok jay's happy the green is gone but kinda feels like an ass now but he also assumes that the person in question would want tim to be happy and move on and he tells tim this

"it's not, he didn't know, honestly he probably didn't even know i existed, i was to scared to talk to him before,"

and yeah jason really wants to end this conversation he doesn't want to feel bad for his replacement

he shifts around and tim reacts again

"you know if you're so desperate i don't mind helping"

tim definitely finds that idea appealing but argues because that's the right thing to do here

"why not, you can call out his name and live the fantasy and i get a nice warm hole"

and tim knows this is a bad idea he should be saying no and trying to get the fuck away from the crime lord but

"we never speak of this again"

obviously sex happens, jay does briefly pause when tim says jason but he's definitely telling himself it's a coincidence

(it's a common enough name so like, it could be)

afterwards they're both tired but then tim gets oracle reaching out via his previously off comms like

"i know you were busy but we've got a situation, mass arkham break out"

tim shelves the implication that at least barbara is aware of tim's very bad decision making skills and gets his ass up and out to help out

unfortunately for tim the night ends with him catching ivy and even more unfortunately she caught him too

thankfully it's just cuddle pollen so, bc he is the king of bad decision making and has 0 self worth, tim goes home and hides in his closet and rides it out so he doesn't bother anyone

problem is because of all this he forgot that he needs plan b

he remembers when his period doesn't show up

the 3 pregnancy test all say positive and tim is not looking forward to that conversation with red hood

not sure where it goes after that except both jason and tim get the terrible experience of finding out that tim did get to lose his first time to his first love

[pentagonieslut]

DKB REACTS: "can you cockwarm me?"

cockwarming, cursing, slight sex, slight 's' (sadism) lune cause its my fave (i want him to be s with me so mf bad), mostly g/n except for lune (mentioning of VS), harry june(mentioning of stuffing reader full in both holes) n junseo, slight (my very evident) size kink with junseo bc it's all you need, slight voyeur with dongil n junseo, jealous harry (aggressively bites lip), harry's is probs the longest because its also love and deepspace based, mention of messy sex, gona popping off, evident desire to have sylus ruin me, i'm sorry i'm being honest, it's hard hours, i just want to ride sylus's thigh once, harry's thigh too, can't forget heechan's, i'm very much in love at the thought of sylus being a dilf, this isn't even about DKB anymore, if DKB were love and deepspace characters i would be pregnant, i'm sorry once again

okay, i lied..i'm posting it early.. enjoy cuties!! it's been a while huh (i've been playing love and deepspace and moved again)? well this time, i'm back and going nowhere (sylus ladsp drabble soon cause i'm delulu)! i hope you enjoy the reaction and i actually didn't even mean to make it this long but i'm lowkey a whore and the thought of sylus makes me just mm.. uh anyway, my requests are always open so don't hesitate to even ask smth even if i'm slow at publishing my writings because of my pickiness..ahem also if you wanna talk like about random things or wtvr my blogs are always open lol (ldsp ID below if you wanna add me). also happy comeback!!

HUNTER ID: 82000027511 | lv. 48 | kaina kaiser-ryu

changmin (echan):

changmin was working on a song and he sighed for the umpteenth time. looking up from your phone, you smiled at him as he turned in his chair to face you. "come take a break and relax, it's not good to work all stressed." you said as he nodded and walked over to sit on the couch next to you. putting down your phone, you turned to massage his shoulders as he visibly relaxed and moaned at the feeling. chuckling softly, you grinned. "someone's going to need some good care tonight, hm?" changmin nodded his head as he leaned back against you. "baby, I have a question."

stopping your massage, you raised a brow and looked at changmin who only cleared his throat. "can you cockwarm me?" laughing and nodding your head you smirked. "yeah, of course I can. let's do it right now."

changmin had grinned and unbuckled his belt, yanking you onto his lap and watching as your face flickered in pain, him not even giving you a chance to prepare yourself as you leaned towards him with a soft hiss. "you've just been waiting to fuck me.."

changmin only smirked and his hands gripped your hips tightly.

dongil (D1):

dongil was busy laughing and chatting it up with his frat brothers as they talked about the soccer game they had watched. you had appeared at the right time as the boys all decided to play FIFA and dongil hugged you tightly with a grin. "I'm glad you made it." laughing, you grinned as you kissed his cheek and walked past him, going to greet the others. "I wouldn't miss your loss to minjae whatsoever."

dongil rolled his eyes as he placed you in his lap, focusing on his game as you quite obviously joined the others in cheering for minjae. "I'm your boyfriend, hello?" dongil said with a slight pout as you laughed and ruffled his hair. "yeah but minjae deserves the love more than you do." you said with a grin as everyone expected, the match ended in minjae's victory.

taking the controller from dongil with a grin and shifting in his lap to get comfortable, you winked at him and focused on the tv, your match against minjae starting. "watch how the queen/king does it." you said as dongil watched you play against minjae, moving around in his lap as the match became more and more intense, everyone's cheers becoming louder with each second.

grabbing your hips as minjae called for a pause and everyone went to get snacks or take a piss, dongil pulled you against his chest and spoke in your ear in a low voice. "can you please stop moving?" smirking, you felt his boner against your thigh and shook your head. "no can do. can you wait until later?" you asked as dongil groaned. "I'm not going to be able to wait..can you just cockwarm me?" nodding your head with a grin you laughed. "anything to keep you satiated." you said as he quickly lowered his pants and lowered yours, placing you back onto his lap as you swallowed your moan and him biting his lip to silently choke on his, feeling you tighten around him as the game resumed once minjae came back and dongil gripped the couch for the sake of his sanity.

gwanghyun (GK):

gwanghyun was bored and seeing your collarbone with the hickey he had given you a few days before exposed had made him swallow as he remembered that night, how he had let his anger and possessiveness take over, leaving you a sticky mess.

"sweetheart." gwanghyun called as you turned to look at him, your sweater falling down your shoulder again as gwanghyun swallowed back the groan that was on the edge of his lips. "yes, gwanghyun?" you asked as he looked at you and swallowed his groan again. "l-lift your sweater up, it's falling down.." he said as you lifted your sweater up, smiling at him as you turned to focus back on the puzzle you were doing.

you jumped at feeling gwanghyun's arms wrap around your waist, his face buried in your neck as he groaned softly and looked at you. "sweetheart, I know your legs hurt from the other day and I'm sorry but this is a different matter and I have a question that needs an immediate answer." laughing, you turned to fully face the male as he took a deep breath and looked at your collarbone with the bite mark. "can you just cockwarm me? i know your legs hurt but cockwarming should be a little easier, no?"

"as long as you're gentle. i don't think over-the-edge angry you is the one I want to have in bed every night." gwanghyun smiled and leaned over to kiss your lips as he lead you to the couch and laid you down on your back gently. he smiled softly as he removed your pants and lowered his, leaning down to kiss your lips as he pushed into you slowly, a deep moan leaving his lips as he then moved to have you in his lap with a soft smile. "so pretty.."

sungmin (lune):

sungmin groaned in frustration as you ignored him, arms crossed over your chest as you sat on the couch and watched mo dao zu shi on the tv. the two of you had gotten into an argument over your modeling pics, him not being happy you posed for victoria's secret.

"baby! just look at me!" he yelled out as you turned and snapped at him. "why? so you can yell at me again?!" rubbing his face with a hand he sighed. "okay, I'm sorry. i was wrong about that." scrunching your nose up, you sneered at him. "oh really, you're sorry?"

his eyes narrowed as he walked crossed the kitchen and stood in front of you, grabbing your chin roughly as he spoke with a dark voice. "I told you I was, didn't I?" looking up at him with wide eyes and swallowing harshly, you nodded your head. "y-you did.."

"you know what, i feel like using a human fleshlight." sungmin said as he jumped over the back of the couch and plopped down, man spreading and looking at you as you struggled to hold back your groan. his face was pretty but he looked even hotter when he man spread.

knowing better than to keep sungmin waiting, you quickly stripped and walked over to him as he grinned and yanked you onto his cock, shoving into you as he sighed happily, feeling your wall clench around him.

heechan:

heechan had just finished dicking you down and you were a cum filled mess. you had no intentions of moving as heechan laughed and cleaned you up. "remind me to never tell you that you can fuck me all night ever again.." you said with a soft grunt as heechan laughed and laid down next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"i beg to differ. you were busy begging for more." he said as you laughed. "okay yeah I did but still, you could've gone easy on me a bit." grinning as he kissed your neck, he shrugged. "not as fun as seeing you tear up under me."

as the two of you relaxed, heechan's voice filled the silence. "doll, it feels empty without you around me. can you cockwarm me while we sleep?" laughing and looking back at him in amazement, you raised a brow. "babe, I'm still leaking your cum..are you serious?" heechan nodded his head and pouted. "please?"

"fine."

smiling, heechan scooted closer to you as he entered back inside of you, a soft moan escaping the both of your mouths as heechan snuggled closer to you, satisfied as he fell asleep immediately.

junseo:

"tiny. i'll pick you up from school later." junseo said as he hugged you, his leather jacket left with a faint scent of you. nodding your head, you smiled and waved goodbye as he grabbed his helmet, exiting the apartment.

as promised, junseo and his friends were waiting outside of your school as the students all whispered with one another, surprised that you actually got along with the gang. hugging junseo as you greeted him and his friends, grabbing your helmet he had held for you, you slipped it on as you sat in front and junseo held onto you as you drove the both of you to the hangout spot.

once you arrived, you went to change your clothes out of your school uniform and into your normal clothes. junseo came over to you after seeing you in your new outfit, him pinning you to the wall as he kissed your lips. "you look so good." he mumbled as you laughed.

junseo kept kissing your lips and moved to kiss your neck, mumbling how gorgeous you looked as he kept kissing and even bit your neck lightly, a hand covering your mouth as he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

junseo pushed your skirt up a bit as you shuddered at the cold air you felt hitting your core. "i could eat you up all day.." he mumbled as he kissed and nibbled on your lip. you moaned softly as junseo mumbled and whispered in your ear. "can you let me put just the tip in?"

you nodded as junseo lowered you down and lined his tip up with your entrance, pushing into you gently as he continued kissing you and lowered your skirt, so nobody would see the way his cock twitched inside of you as he continued kissing you once again.

"hey! no fucking in a public area, go to one of the rooms!" one of junseo's friends yelled as the two of you broke the kiss, you laughing loudly and junseo turning to flick him off, his face evident he was more than ready to fuck the shit out of you.

yuku:

yuku had asked you what you thought about cockwarming randomly. when i say random, i mean:

the two of you were eating ramen and you were in the middle of slurping your noodles when yuku had called your name. "cookie. what do you think about cockwarming?" you choked on your noodles and cut off the noodles in your mouth as you swallowed and chugged your water. "huh? why mention that now?" you asked as he leaned closer to you, his hand holding chopsticks holding his chin up with a grin. "you just looked cute in the panda onesie and cheeks full so i just had to ask."

that was two weeks ago.

yuku had sighed and was sitting on the couch, tired from dance practice. as you looked at him and smiled softly, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "i'll take you up on that offer from a couple weeks ago." yuku looked up at you his hand paused midair as he put his popcorn kernel back down. "what offer?" he asked as he tilted his head to the side, as it took a second and he smiled his gummy smile. "oh yeah, come here." he said as he patted his lap and you climbed into it, him smiling as he kissed your lips and watched as you moved off him and gave him head.

his head was tossed back against the couch as he laughed softly. "cookie, aren't you supposed to cockwarm me?"

harry june:

you were playing love and deepspace, ignoring everything going on around you as you stared at the misty invasion memory wish video (the video is basically sex, they're all half naked for those of you without the game), drooling over the scene of rafayel kissing her character and sylus lifting her character up and placing her onto the counter as he grabbed her hand and pushed her down, the kiss sensual.

"god, i want sylus and rafayel to be so rough with me i'm sobbing for them to be gentle.." harry turned his head to look at you as he raised a brow, listening to you talk to yourself as you kept hitting the 10x wish button. "you want who and who to what with you?" he asked as he folded his arms and looked at you, his phone in his hand.

looking up at him you raised a brow. "rafayel and sylus. i want them to fuck me stupid until they break the bed." harry nodded his head and squinted his eyes as he went back to scrolling on his phone as you got into a deepspace trial, cursing and yelling at rafayel as if you were really fighting the wanderers. "shit! rafayel, baby, i need you to move! no matter how sexy i look in the eternal desert outfit!"

harry looked up from his phone once again to see you furiously mashing the buttons on your phone screen as you started to stand up from the couch next to harry, screaming at your phone in panic, trying to make a buzzer beater before the trial challenge ended. "ah! raffy, baby, please don't! no, move! fuck, fuck, fuck!" you shrieked as you continued to furiously mash the buttons, screaming in delight as you jumped up and down. "yes! i knew i could count on you baby! i never doubted you in the first place!"

harry started to grow jealous as he watched you glued to your phone, even snatching his phone charger from him as he was about to use it, your evil glare sending a chill down his spine as he backed away and let you plug in your phone, your whines now about sylus, as he saw the animated parts of the storyline, shaking his head not understanding why you were so enthralled with 3D men when you had him, quite literally, a human 3D character sitting next to you.

"sylus if only you were real, the way i would cry if he did the take you down challenge.." she mumbled as she stroked her phone gently, harry rolling his eyes and becoming fed up, snatching your phone away from you. "okay, that's fucking it." he said with irritation as he turned your phone off and threw it on the chair across the room.

you glared at him and got up to grab your phone, shrieking in shock at how fast harry moved to have you pinned against the couch. he glared down at you, his eye twitching. "all damn day, it's been 'xavier this' 'zayne that' 'sylus fuck me' 'zayne would dick me down better than xavier' to that stupid fucking game on your phone. do i not exist anymore?" he spat as you stared up at him, eyes shaking as you looked around before becoming angry at him. "it's fucking love and deepspace! do you know what misty invasion has done to me?!"

"yeah, made you want to be fucked by men who don't exist! i'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake!"

"so?! why can't i fantasize about a demon dilf or a doctor who has ice powers?!" harry groaned and shook his head as he leaned down closer to your face. "because you're my property, doll." he said as you swallowed and squeezed your legs together.

harry had bit your neck, causing you to stop breathing for a second as you let out a soft groan of pain. moving down and his jealousy taking over, harry had marked your neck multiple times, grumbling about how 3D men should be banned around him if he was going to have to watch you be a whore for them.

an hour later, harry leaned over to lay on top of you, tired from how hard he just fucked the desire of sylus dicking you down out of you. "maybe i should get jealous more often. you won't be having those deepspace guys filling your holes the way i do." harry said as you hugged him and laughed softly. "jealous harry is definitely something i could get behind as long as i can keep playing love and deepspace to push you over the edge."

harry kissed your lips with a grin. "yeah, i'm going to stay inside you longer in case i need to remind you who i am and what you are."

[desceros]

I no longer feel bad about asking about blurple villian might I ask some very pointed questions about Donnie’s side of the relationship for playlist purposes?

So what I’m hearing is it takes DonBon a little longer to um… get his ball rolling. So to speak. How many fights do he and Lamb Chan get into over Leo and does Leo know about it/rub it in Donnie’s face?

Gbs input would be appreciated as well (now when I reblog blurple villian stuff I wait a bit to make sure you two aren’t still going back and forth on the post lol)

never ever ever feel bad for blurple villain au posting

i think donnie and lamb-chan actually... don't really fight that much usually? not in the traditional sense. for the most part you're just like. oh donnie says that this is the best way to do things, so i'm going to trust that and do it. and if you say you want something, donnie usually is like ok well here you go. it's just very. easy. being with donnie. there's no real friction or fighting that ends up happening.

...except when it comes to leo.

ohhh man. you are stubborn as fuck about leo, and it makes donnie's teeth fucking paste with how hard he grinds them on this. he tries everything. talking to you. grabbing your arms and shaking you. a very memorable powerpoint presentation with diagrams and pictures. he puts a tracker on your coat that starts making an obnoxious beep when you get too close to leo's apartment, so you just take it off and leave it on a dumpster until you come back by.

(he promptly takes it off, because the thought of you out there, cold, is maybe worse than the thought of you being with that fucker. also bc leo snapped at him about it, genuinely angry, saying he'd had to warm you up bc your teeth were chattering, and knowing that leo put his fucking hands on you—that leo was right about how he'd hurt you—yeah. no more beeping trackers.)

leo, of course, absolutely loves this. i can just see him hiding in the fire escapes, watching over you on your way to his apartment with donnie trailing behind. you're ignoring him, nose in the air, as he tells you all the reasons that this is stupid, that leo is toxic, that you're better off staying in the lair. when he makes the mistake of insinuating that leo would hurt you, that's when you stop and wheel around, getting a little nasty right back in his face. leo has never once hurt you—not in a way you didn't ask for—and insinuating otherwise won't stand.

taking this moment to be the perfect little shit, leo jumps down and comes up behind you, pulling you close and sending his brother a smug smile. making matters worse, you grab leo's hand and pull him along behind you, leaving donnie behind with the sight of your stiff spine and leo's infuriating smirk. he goads the two of you on, wanting you to fight, hoping to push you away from donnie and closer to him.

...but, equally, i think your fights—as hot as they burn when they happen—are very, very quick to boil away. they never last more than a few hours before you're coming back together, apologizing, the two of you snuggling close and letting the gravity between you come to head. he hates making you angry, he really hates making you cry; you hate making him angry, you really hate making him sad.

once you start hooking up w donnie, this gets even more pronounced. i imagine you're very, very careful not to get into fights with donnie, giving him one or two more warnings that you're getting pissed when he starts sniping about leo. hence why the whole 'being little shits behind your back' thing starts happening. (because you are also very quick to defend donnie to leo, and your fuse on people saying shit about him is very, very, very short.)

@gbao3 tag youre it

[lackablazeical]

- What inspired you to draw?

- What is the story of the Addams AU Turtles? (I don't know if I wrote it correctly.) When did they start with those attitudes of... well, what they are now. Did they start with those attitudes when they were kids, or did Splinter raise them that way?

- Did you see Frida's design? What do you think of her?

I would like to ask more, but I don't want to bother you.

I started drawing like PROPERLY in 1st grade bc this stupidass kid named Jefferson showed a comic he drew for show and tell and he was getting attention and I was pissed cus I thought I could draw better so I started drawing a lot and then never stopped. Yes I'm 100% serious

Mostly it was the nurture rather then nature (ig of the exception of Leo, maybe also raph) bc Splinter taught them yk. Creepy kooky things, which was only added onto by their war machine DNA and such (Leo probs would've come out strange bc of how fried his brain is w/ no sleep but definitely not as bad, Raph does have an instilled temper but I feel w/ proper nurture it could be helped)

I have and look!!! I do like the design, kinda, she does not look good in the BM outfit but whatever, but. I don't like the name Frida, I would've preferred Kahlo or even like named after. A different artist like of the same art period as the boy's names (like Artemisia Gentileschi, Lavinia Fontana, Giovanna Garzoni, or Elisabetta Sirani) but yeah I like her, I hope we can get mote instances of her in the comics, I wanna know what she's like and such

I don't mind I like yapping ask me what you'd like

[t4tozier]

fuck it survivor au. thanks @whoblewboobear for infecting me w reality tv brainworms <3

it’s one of the seasons where they all spend like a night together first before they get split into teams

jace immediately tries to form an alliance with porter. one of the talking heads is like daybreak making some comment like of course this skinny pretty boy is gonna try to team up with us strong guys (he thinks he’s in an alliance with porter already bc he nodded at him and porter nodded back)

but one of the cameras catches the two of them talking like off to the side together and jace runs his fingers up the inside of porter’s wrist and says something like “i think we could really help each other out.” and porter smirks down at him and is like “i think we can make that work, sweetheart.”

turns out, surprise, big secret, porter’s into dudes. yk there’s always at least one where it’s like being gay is Their Secret. or like Their Big Thing. he has some snarky comment in his talking head like “yeah, and if any of these punks have anything to say about it they can talk to my purple heart.”

they spend the first night talking to each other but it just seems like normal plotting not like. flirty plotting. they just look like they’re bad at hiding their alliance

and then of course they get split into the brains brawns and beauty tribes

jace pisses off viewers and the other contestants at first because he seems like one of the people that’s just there to complain and it’s like. okay so why are you even here then if you’re gonna just talk about how you miss cigarettes and not help.

but turns out he actually knows wtf he’s doing. he still complains about it but he’s also like i’m not gonna fucking sleep on the ground let’s make this shelter get to it people!!

porter’s one of those guys that’s an asshole but he’s also definitely the strongest even of the group, has killer endurance and survival skills so they keep him around but plot to vote him off when they merge

they do the buff swapping and porter and jace end up on the same team. jace is visibly elated and porter just looks smug

it becomes increasingly obvious that they have an alliance and also are probably trying to fuck where cameras can’t find them

another team has one of those like info swapping rewards and one of starbreaker’s teammates tells them about the alliance. and then their team loses a challenge and as a punishment instead of eliminating a player the winning team gets to take a team member. and they take jace.

porter goes to zara as they’re about to break back to their camps and tells her he’ll take her to the end if she makes sure that jace doesn’t get voted next because he’s an easy target. she takes his word for it and porter gets everyone except for jace to vote for her when it’s down to 7. he doesn’t tell jace about it and writes down a different name so he can tell jace it wasn’t him <3 evil man. evil

[kyleiskoool]

massive rod family/heritage headcanon dump:

okay so i kind-of feel like rod is french canadian. i really love making people french canadian gang... so yeah rod can speak french pretty fluently. also the canadian part purely bc of mgwlic. so it makes sense for him to say that he had a girlfriend in canada. (because rod isnt dumb, he wouldve thought it out a little bit guys) but yeah i loveeee making it so people can speak french.

okay but dont get me wrong, french is a romantic language but when rod speaks it he is the least romantic peraon ever. he speaks really direct bc all of the times he spoke french it was yelling at his parents (just wait ill expand on it). but when he gets mad he starts spouting shit off in french (nicky has picked up a few new phrases). but yeah he spoke french from birth and learnt english a bit at home and went to an english speaking school.

parental wise? i love rod so he's getting the lesbian mum treatment (me applying the fact my mum left- dw half of this isnt what happened in my life).

okay so rod grew up in a right winged family (thats why hes republican) in french canada. he has an older brother (but he is ALOT older like 11yrs older so he never rly knew her) and mum and dad. and then other relatives that r irrelevant. everything was pretty typical. he never really spoke to his brother but he was at christmas and stuff.

trauma time 😜

rods mum up and left at like 9 years old to go live with a lesbian lover. rods dad is PISSED bc theyre like highly conservative. even though he was homophobic before this CEMENTS that ideology in his mind. he doubles down and drills it into rods head that being gay is bad and he is nothing if he was gay. he never saw his mother after she left.

this is why he is so scared to come out. hes scared that everyone thinks this way and theyre all out to get him and abandon him. so he also doubts it when he feels it because he doesnt want to be bad. but yeah :( thats why he bonded with nicky so much because he secretly thought nicky was rly brave for supporting the lgbtq but he was still scared that somehow his dad would find out.

this goes into more that rods dad refused to let him do anything 'feminine'. he trued to get rod to play a sport but he couldn't for the life of him so he took up an instrument (the clarinet) instead. he always wanted to do the musical and sing, but once again, it wasnt seen as 'manly' enough. thats why he loves going to shows and is so wowed when be sees nicky in shows.

his brother definitely started talking to him a bit more when rod was in college. rod reached out first asking for advice. his brother pretty much said 'study, dont get kept up in emotional things and find a roommate with the same interests as you'. after that, his brother kept tabs on him as he moved on with life. he tries to help princeton in the same way his brother helped him.

his brother heard about his mum and didnt really care. he was definitely never that homophobic or conservative (thats why he moved out so quickly) so he never really cared about his mum being lesbian.

okay wait im just gonna do this here. this is a yap abt how rod and nicky became friends bc like why not.

okay so rod was majoring business or something i cant be fucked to care. anyways, he usually studied in the library or the caf at night. and he saw alot of faces but nickys just stood out to him for some reason. he eventually figured out he was a theatre major and that his name was an n name. he keeps mentioning this guy to his business major friends and they have no clue who he is. they try to ask around too and find little info except for his name (nicky) and the fact he was in the last musical

anyways, as rod really loves theatre, he usually goes to the theatreclubs shows if he has any spare money. he buys a ticket to a show and notices that THAT GUY that he always sees around is the LEAD. rod has to do a double take and in the intermission he buys a program. rod spends the rest of the show just looking at him and just fawning over his singing and acting.

the show finishes and mostly everyone leaves. rod sticks around, looking at his headshot just making sure that he knows what guy it is. nicky ends up coming out, smiling but ultimately looking tired. rod doesnt see anyone approach him and nicky is streamlining it to the door. rod ends up running over and just complimenting his performance. nicky lights up so much and thanks him over and over.

rod mentions that he's seen him around. nicky perks up and says that he thinks one of his friends is in his class. he goes 'youre ryan.. right?' and rod just laughs and goes 'haha, no im rod' and nicky is like 'YEP THATS RIGHT! i was so close'. rod just smiles and is like 'ill see you around, you got any more shows?' nicky tells him they have like 3 more shows and rod asks if he's got any classes. nicky says that he doesnt but he has a test the next day and needs to study. rod suggests that they study together because he also has a test soon.

nicky agrees and they plan on seeing each other the next day. and their friendship is born!

anyways, nicky is so flustered bc the guy he lowkey had a hallway crush on had invited him to study and rod was like 'YAYYAYAYAYYAYAYA I TALKED TO THE GUY I WANTED TO BE FRIENDS WITH'

okay guys thats the end of a very VERY big yap. i hope you guys enjoyed my stupid headcanon rant about rod because i have very big feelings about this. i very much want to write a oneshot about college rodnicky. (theatrekid nicky is my number one headcanon) !!! also desperate want to draw rods family !!!

okay gang leave a #thumbs up and subscribe if you enjoyed the video. see you in the next one!