#its a good look on him lol. kind of sensible.

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

Glass has been in Bad Situation limbo for over a year now so I thought I'd like to just draw him and Strike cause I'm sure he's fiiiiiiiine........

[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

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[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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[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

I read GRRM’s interview regarding book vs show canon and I thought the way he was approaching an adaptation of his own story, and fiction as a whole, was very interesting. I do wonder though - does the concept of having a separate show canon kind of become like a cop-out? Because in that case, any TV/film adaptation can just decide to change the plot as they see fit and go “oh, well, that’s our canon, the book is a different canon.” Doesn’t it cease to be an adaptation after a point, or at least become a loose one? In the HotD context, a lot of the changes being made I actually quite like because I can see them fitting in the canon, because there’s nothing suggesting otherwise.

But say, Sansa marrying Ramsay (or, alternatively, the moment that show was dead to me) we can say with absolute certainty did not take place and will almost definitely never take place. D&D knew that too but they went ahead with it anyway; it’s not quite like the Scarlett example where it makes no difference to the story because this change does. I feel like the whole point of adapting written words into something visual loses some of its sanctity if we just accept TV changes a whole separate canon, as opposed to simply a change made by the writers (good change or bad change is up to personal opinion).

I have followed your blog for almost a decade so I’m really curious to hear your thoughts on the subject.

GRRM's "Scarlett example" -- his question of "how many children did Scarlett O'Hara have?", because in the book Gone With the Wind she had three, one with each of her three husbands, whereas in the movie she only had one -- has been his go-to when asked about the difference between book and show canon since at least 2012. Or to quote him from 2015,

How many children did Scarlett O’Hara have? Three, in the novel. One, in the movie. None, in real life: she was a fictional character, she never existed. The show is the show, the books are the books; two different tellings of the same story.

This is IMO one of the most sensible ways for an author to look at adaptations of their work (even if I have gotten rather tired of GRRM using the Scarlett example specifically, pick something different George, we've seen it before lol). There is book canon and there is show canon. They are different parallel universes. They're separate canons because they contain changes made by the writers, and also because the very process of moving from the written word to visual media must involve some kind of change.

And this applies to all adaptations. That's why I brought up X-Men comics vs the Fox X-Men movies vs the X-Men cartoon (original 90s and 2024's '97). For example, there's 4 different versions of the Dark Phoenix Saga between those canons, at the very least. Wait, sorry lol, I forgot the Ultimate canon version. And the various in-comics alternate universe versions. And god knows when they finally bring the X-Men into the MCU they'll probably do yet another DPS there too. And that's only one of many storylines that are radically different between the various canons.

Or look at the various Interviews with the Vampire. Is the new tv show "not an adaptation" because its Claudia is a teenager rather than 5 years old as in the book or portrayed by an 11 year old as in the movie, thus resulting in extremely different relationships and a reshaped plot? (Among many other changes?) No. IWTV has book canon, movie canon, and show canon.

And I can't speak that well about Transformers since it's not a major fandom of mine, but go take a look at their various continuities if you want some more perspective about just how very far the meaning of "adaptation" can stretch.

Or hell, look at Stephen King, where among his many many many adaptations, some of which just barely resemble the original text, the only one he sued to have his name removed from was The Lawnmower Man, because they literally used an entirely different story and just slapped his title on it.

And then there's the movie Adaptation, which is a wildly meta-adaptation of the non-fiction book The Orchard Thief (it's a story about the process of adapting that book and involves a fictional version of the writer, the screenplay writer, and an entirely invented screenplay writer's twin brother)... and it was nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay for multiple film awards (and won a few times), and the original writer even said it kept to the book's themes.

Suffice it to say, HOTD has a long, long, long way to go before it could ever "cease to be an adaptation after a point". Changing the timeline to make Alicent and Rhaenyra the same age, or doing Blood & Cheese differently, do not even compare to what some book-to-visual media "loose adaptations" have done. Even GOT, as wildly terrible as their non-book storylines could be, both their changes to the text and after they had no actual text to work with, never became a "loose adaptation". Certainly it became a less than faithful adaptation -- and let's be real, it always was unfaithful for both themes and the essential elements of so many characters -- but it also always was a remarkably accurate adaptation of the whole span of Westeros (in geography and breadth of characters) and the general (not specific) book plot. (Consider previous attempts at adaptation that GRRM rejected, such as a single 2 hour movie, or eliminating Jon and Dany for being "irrelevant", or only making a Jon movie with none of the other storylines, etc.) Which is why, when GOT was different (and awful) it was such a betrayal, like a zombie or evil alien wearing the skin of your best friend or beloved child, and worse, that this twisted lookalike was the only version millions and millions of viewers ever saw and believed to be true.

But again, this just underlines what GRRM has said. "The show is the show, the books are the books." There is book canon and there is show canon. They are separate things. Parallel universes -- very close parallels, often touching in many places, but sometimes they're quite different. Sometimes the differences in adaptation enhance the themes of the original canon; sometimes the author may even consider certain adapted characters (Shae, King Viserys, Helaena) to be better than his original canon; sometimes you know there's only those tricky NDAs (and payments of lots of money) that prevent him from expressing his disappointment in more ways than dropping the Sansa TWOW preview chapter only days before the release of GOT S5. But perhaps if we're lucky, maybe one day we'll have yet another parallel canon to compare to the others.

[bl0ssom-skies]

Fear Written in Ink

Journaling is a rather useful thing. It's all Flaming Spice Cookie had been doing these days. As a matter of fact, he has been doing it for quite some time now. It was pretty useful in preventing outbursts... or accidentally setting something ablaze, which happened more times than he could count. Journaling It helped keep his mind clear amongst his rising instability. Especially now.

It was dusk. Flaming Spice Cookie was in his home office, he had gotten off of his shift about an hour ago. Normally, he'd be just as energized as he was at the start of his shift... but.. nowadays, he feels absolutely exhausted. His constant tension seemed to be draining that seemingly endless energy right out of him. He didn't even feel like eating anything this time around.

He simply opened up his journal, and began to write at his office desk.

It's been about a month since her majesty had succumbed to corruption.... the very scenario he dreaded horribly. His job as the general had gotten harder as well amidst the tension in the kingdom, the other heroes falling into corruption, and his own growing stresses and anxieties. He could barely stand to be around his own queen without feeling like he was on the verge of having something terrible happen to him. It wasn't exactly a pleasurable thing to experience.

As he wrote in his ink and tear stained journal, he began to wonder... should he leave the kingdom? The longer he stayed here, the more risk he'd be putting himself in after all...

But... he is the general! What kind of general abandons the people and the kingdom he was supposed to help protect? That was his job, his duty... What kind of leader would do such a thing?!

....

... well.... he certainly knew a few that did just that.

If Flaming Spice Cookie was sensible, he would have left the moment she became corrupt, just as some of the citizens did... but he didn't.

He had a feeling it would be quite difficult for him to get away without any troubles, and he was blinded by his desire to protect the people he didn't even truly belong with. A desire he had ever since he succumbed to the same fate of corruption... Ever since he watched his own people die in front of his very eyes— and by the witches, if he had the power, he would break those soul jams into a MILLION LITTLE PIECES AND—

And...

Ah, goodness.. he must've gotten caught up in his thoughts again.

His hair was beginning to flair up too. Great. Flaming Spice Cookie sighed. He set his quill in its holder, and gently closed the journal. He sat there, taking a few rounds of deep breaths as his head rested in his hands. He soon slowly opened his eyes, bringing himself back to reality.

His hair was back to its normal size and brightness once again.

"Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to make myself some dinner..."

he muttered to himself as he slowly got up from his desk. He put out the candle that illuminated his desk area, and walked out of his office. His tired eyes looked out into his living room. A cozy, warm, and quaintly decorated space. Perhaps he could make himself some curry... he does have some spices ready for harvesting in his garden after all.

He walked onto his back porch, and looked up at the dark, starry skies above. He would usually feel at peace watching the stars shine down through the clear inky skies... but he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over him. He dreaded tomorrow.

It seemed as though this cycle of heroism and corruption would never end.

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Wanted to write a lil short something since it's been a hot minute, and school has been messing with my motivation to write lol

There is something hidden in the text, it may be a bit obvious, but I wonder if you can find it? :)

(Au by @cuppajj!)

[meruz]

hi im putting all my asks in one post again. these are from like the past month and a half approx? some digimon thoughts some tmnt thoughts some art musings u know the usual

@waywardistics YAYY thank you so much for ordering! I'm glad it got to you & that you are enjoying it!

this is kind of a missive to everyone who ordered but: I am very nervous about pre-orders whenever I do them... nervous that not very many people will order, nervous that there will be supply chain or production dilemmas and I won't be able to get copies out to people in a timely fashion, nervous about having people's money but having an indeterminate amt of time where i have not yet "held up my part of the bargain" etc etc SO. THANK U GUYS...FOR ORDERING and being patient and im so glad it got to y'all

@seanonthemoon (idk why i cant tag u BUT) interesting... i gotta be honest I don't think abt the crests that much. i agree that they're very much like heres the "girl" crest heres the "nerd boy" crest etc to the point that it becomes almost meaningless. but i think what makes them even more meaningless to me, and is probably the reason they kind of designated girl/boy crests etc is that i think like the digivices they're toys and merchandise more than they are actual narrative tools LOL. I wouldve loved something with cody and mimi! theyre both so deeply empathetic and sensitive.. theres a lot they share but i think because they look so different on the surface it would make it difficult to market that merch...booo capitalism boooo toy marketing its all sexist bullshit at least here in the u.s. idk if japan is that different though.

I'm actually a little frustrated with how often 02 and 02 related media squanders cody in general lol. he feels like a parallel of izzy, joe, and TK(season 1 tk) while also being kind of none of those and suffering through lackluster characterization as a result... and then once ken joins the team it feels a little redundant. there's a couple cody-centric eps of 02 I remember really liking but then i think abt how he's been used since in like post-series content and 02:the beginning where they made him type on the computer even though obviously that's yoleis thing but because he had nothing else to do and aghh... my blood boils. i feel like the youngest but most serious anime achetype even at its bare bones is actually rly interesting idk why they don't play it up. UM. Once again my opinion is that he should be taller LOL and maybe they should play up his kendo martial arts honorable training stuff more idk. tallest + youngest + most serious just seems like a recipe for success for me. well. theres still time. and theres always fanfic.

THIS IS SO NICE TO SAY and not the first time someone has said it but i appreciate it everytime because i really admire the mm art style so much. It's like part of why I got really into the movie because I really recognized my own artistic sensibilities and aspirations in the way they stylized everything.

UM And i feel like since watching the movie and looking at all the concept art and making my own art i do feel like its only become more obvious how much my own art is lacking LOL LIKE when you see something that feels so similar I think the differences only become more stark. those artists are definitely on a different level than me. But it's nice to hear people say it doesn't look so different from their pov. thank u ^^

thank u!!!!!!! i love mundanity and naturalism... there's something so beautiful abt it to me lol... I feel like my anatomy needs work actually but ive been feeling better abt it this year so it's good to hear! thank you!

DLKGDSGDLALSNDF WAS IT TOO FAR..?? firstly, yeah I was thinking late teen/young adult ages for both of them ie 18-19ish, definitely not the age the kids are in the movie lol.

but also they arent DOING anything in that pic it is literally just a confrontation + some innuendo... I think teens should be allowed some less than subtle innuendo.. its like one of the top 3 classically teen pastimes...

this is such a funny ask to get because i feel like i haven't been able to do thin lineart until like. this past year or two maybe LOL. UM having a line-centric art job helped I think. I started on craig of the creek back in 2022 and thats a show where we spend a lot of time inking so I had a job where I was constantly moderating my line weight 40 hours a week every week for over a year. disappointingly, much of improvement is simply horrendous amounts of practice.

Here's a tip though: I think a lot of thin lineart boils down to confidence. I think instinctively we read thick, bold, fast lines as confident but theres actually a lot of obscuring you can do with a thick line. if you're not sure whether the nose on the face or a browline should be a little more left or a little more down you can hide that with a thick line and pretend its a shadow. or hide it with a bunch of quick lines and the eye can kind of approximate where looks best among the mass.. whereas a thin line is rly singular and stark and hides nothing, it needs to be precise. so anytime i know i want thin lineart i spend a LOT of time sketching, making sure i know exactly where i want my lines to go. so im not second guessing by the time im inking...

ok thats kind of a broad tip lol... here's one thats more applicable: IF POSSIBLE, lower your pressure sensitivity on your device. most devices have some way to edit your pressure sensitivity curve. I use a surface pro at home and this is what my pressure curve looks like most of the time.

When I work on a wacom it looks even more like a reverse L shape LOL. I'm naturally a really heavy-handed artist and I use a "light" or "hard" pressure curve to compensate for how hard I'm always pressing on the pen lol. if you're like me and you struggle with going too hard with the ink too fast... this will probably help a lot!

SFHASLDFH I LOVE THIS ASK this is like the type of question a person gets asked when chalk drawing on the sidewalk at recess LOL. but i understand because I've been struggling also for like. months. I think I'm finally starting to nail it down though so here's some of my observations.

[feel free to save this img but **please do not re-post it or share broadly**. my biggest fear in the world is to spend 30 min on some notes and become a widely proliferated art tutorial im not even kidding. i made it low contrast and difficult to read on purpose.]

my other tip is to just look at and study a lot of reference because that's all ive been doing. the tmnt are really cartoony so its difficult to use like actual anatomical reference unless ur going for that look BUT theres been so many adaptions in so many different styles that there's a real treasure trove of stuff to look at for how to simplify, stylize, and dissect these characters while keeping the recognizable essence. so theres lots to pull from.

If you want to expand further, it's also good to have 5) something sci-fi 6)something fantasy 7)something mundane/slice of life. a bedroom is a really good go-to. And of course some bgs can be two or more of these things at once.

I've definitely answered asks abt bg tips before but here's one specifically for if you want to do bg design for a job:

Your portfolio should probably have at least one of each of the following 1) an interior 2) an exterior 3) a cityscape 4) a nature scene. Just to cover kind of the basics of what you'd be asked to draw on any given project.

I actually feel like I don't have that many cityscrapes in my portfolio... this is something I'm gonna try to work on in the coming year LOL. OH ALSO. This is a very basic tip and people will tell you it all the time but its worth repeating: look up portfolio websites of artists who have the job you want. An easy way to do this is to go onto imdb for any cartoon or movie you like and to find the names listed as "bg/background designer" or whatever then just google that name +"art" or "animation" most artists have some public facing internet presence so it's not hard. spend time studying their work and hold those images in your head! it's a good way to get a good idea of what "industry standard" looks like and comparing ur own art to it... I know people sometimes get bummed comparing their art to others but if you can keep your head up lol.. it'll help you figure out what you need to work on!

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ok thats all i have to say sorry for typing so much. happy new year everybody who read this far LMAO!!!!!

[sarejima]

what ships do you like??

Sorry this took so long to answer(and that its so long lol). I started watching SP barely 2 months ago so haven't really had the chance to think about it and draw out some pairings yet; this was really helpful to me too!

Stan: don't particularly ship Stan w anyone except maybe Wendy. I love him but he's a bit too actively self-centered. I kinda compartmentalize ships in my head between aesthetics and vibes, and aesthetics-wise I find both Stan and Craig look good w Kenny.

Bunny: idk I just like it. Both are compassionate and sweet and rlly high energy but have qualities the other lacks and could learn from. Kenny is stubborn and indignant- he knows what he wants and isn't concerned with judgement(while never to the detriment of others)- due to Butters' upbringing he foregoes this entirely, although you can tell he wants to change. With both's selflessness and patience they're more than capable of meeting in the middle. Kenny is also really socially adept- he seamlessly rides the flow of conversations which Butters with his naive openness would let sweep him away. This openness however is Butters' greatest strength; he's principled and prone to forgiveness and seeing the good in people, as well as being surprisingly emotionally mature(he also has a not-so-well-hidden crazy side which im sure Kenny would appreciate)

Kyman: Eric is obsessed with Kyle- its more than obvious- obsessed in ways that would rub off on anyone given the his very nature. This shows itself at times that contrast well with the others' indifference. Their personalities fit almost a bit too well- Cartman the passionate sadistic antagonist and Kyle equally so the imposer of morality. They're both leaders and big personalities in their own right and it's clear that Cartman's strong feelings can go both ways so it may just work out.

Creek: still have 6 seasons to go till I get there but it's easy to see how perfect they are- Craig especially needs someone who relies on him and gives him a sense of purpose and a focus for his attention, spicing up his life and saving him from his own listlessness little by little while expanding his comfort zone

(Actually drew this one before lol. I just thought it fit the description)

Token/Tolkien: I rlly love Token- he's compassionate and patient and willing to indulge others- not for the sake of it tho, as he's very grounded and sensible enough to know more or less what will or won't benefit him. He's also extremely loyal and a team player- qualities which make me kinda ship him with Clyde. I love the idea of him having to compensate for or accomodate for the other's (lack of) proactiveness/outgoingness. Clyde's laziness being an excuse for Token to fuss over him and devote time to helping him academically and in general(this also works with Craig). I also kinda ship him with Bebe for the opposite reason- rhe only reason I prefer Clyde however is Token's sensitivity; it may be quite easy for her to take advantage of his kindness(Actually I prefer him w Wendy much for for this)

Thanks for reading if you got to the end of this lol (о´∀`о)

And sorry there are probably spelling mistakes(and that my handwriting sucks lol)

[emcandon]

the ballad of fancy uncle chucklefuck pt. 6

(previously on fancy uncle chucklefuck: 1, 2, 3 (look at the reblog for the update), 4, 5)

a long one! so this time, a cut!

GUESS WHO HAD A BAD TIME THIS WEEK HAHAHAHAHA

my plans to have fancy uncle chucklefuck idly making breakfast for the recently re-traumatized (BY HIS GOD) party were thwarted bc he instead woke up to being physically threatened by another, different god

bc lol the party weren't the only ones his god had pissed off -- an old god of the land itself had come to menace this sad old dandy and make its complaints Known

old god was understandably pretty upset that yet another power was throwing its weight around in barovia -- and even worse, possibly making itself available to strahd?? you idiot!! you asshole!! what's wrong with you!!

sidebar: feral hagdaughter tried to wallop the old god MULTIPLE TIMES bc it was the sensible thing to do! something seem dangerous? whack it until it goes away! DUH.

anyway btwn the old god's ire + the rest of the party's comments about "worst night of our lives" and "truly fucked nightmare" and the like, fancy uncle chucklefuck started to piece together that his god had maybe FUCKED AROUND only to leave him to be the one to find out! come on!! ¯\_(ಠ_ಠ)_/¯

anyway he went from protesting that he didn't really know anything to, well, protesting that he didn't really know anything, but with more detail.

you know, like admitting this power is something he recognizes but could never have expected to wield bc he doesn't even go here. (in terms of both being not of the royal bloodline, also not even technically from the kingdom, so like ¯\_(ಠ_ಠ)_/¯ !!!)

but also in terms of how, well, the power doesn't look like he remembers it looking. he's used it to make light and to heal -- and he only ever saw it used for violence, or to change the course of a mind.

which, to be fair, it has very obviously been fucking around in everyone's brains so ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

tl;dr it's new, he doesn't like it, he's never seen the god -- or whatever it is -- do anything for anyone that wasn't directly harmful, and the only time it ever saw fit to talk to him! it gave him a migraine! so like! ¯\_(ಠ_ಠ)_/¯

but the worst part was arguably when the old god made some comment about how this god loves him.

uh oh

oh no

why

tangentially, uncle chucklefuck asked Seasonal Affective Disorder: the Warlock a thing he'd been meaning to ask her ever since she said something about how there are "different kinds of dead"

namely whether it's possible for the soul--the self--to be carved out of a body, only for the body to still be breathing

(which was probably the most intense rush of emotion i'd felt at the table thus far bc holy shit not the time he wanted to ask that, if he ever even actually wanted to)

turns out this question hit HER in a terrible and unexpected way, but tl;dr the horrible answer is "YUP"

anyway that was around the point the old god decided it was satisfied -- which it articulated by suggesting they all go walk into a lake so as to not bring any more problems down upon its people or its land. buh-bye!

to which the dragonborn herbo was like "actually that sounds great, byyyyeeeee" and promptly exited stage left

the dour divine bard and SAD: the Warlock went to go talk her through her stress/ongoing powerful aversion to God Shit

which was DARLING esp bc the dour divine bard proved far more emotionally deft and gentle than they had yet dared to be!

but THEN the dragonborn herbo was like "THAT. CHUCKLEFUCK. TOLD ME NOT TO BE VULNERABLE. AND THEN WENT AND EXPOSED HIS ENTIRE FUCKING RIBCAGE TO US." (see 3)

here pictured: me, offscreen, wailing with laughter

SAD: the Warlock's answer to this was along the lines of "to be fair, uncle chucklefuck's probably going through it, and i suspect that awful god is too -- but ALSO, if they touch our brains again, i will kill him :)"

which made the dragonborn herbo feel better so we're all good now! we're fine! we're great! it's chill!

meanwhile fancy uncle chucklefuck had offered to make food for the group before answering any questions they wanted answered and feral hagdaughter was Extremely Interested in breakfast.

which was the most sensible thing that happened all morning and made him finally confess she's his favorite.

while they tended to that, a very distressed farmer's wife politely asked the utena butch bard whether the party planned.....to stay....any longer..... and desperately pretended the farmhouse was SO haunted by the most OBNOXIOUS ghosts so they would probably be MUCH happier if they just CONTINUED ON DOWN THE ROAD...

breakfast ended up remarkably chill all things given. dragonborn herbo (NEEDLESSLY!!!) apologizing for her "outburst" and committing to sticking with the group -- and making clear she keeps her fucking promises.

followed by fancy uncle chucklefuck cautiously offering to part ways with the group bc lol! didn't expect to be contagious! sorry! haha! fuck!

tho he was also talked out of this by the double-punch salvo of 1) we've already caught the contagion and distance probably won't help, 2) strahd has already proved Interested in your god and none of us really want him to get it, so!

ultimately we hit the road again with fancy uncle chucklefuck having changed into the farmer's spare clothes bc 1) god he's tired of putting on fancy face, 2) when he runs out of money, the fancy clothes will also be good for bartering.

and we left off on debating how best to deal with hags who have the bones that we want, with the conclusion that we definitely should not bargain with them, probably could not kill them, and therefore ought to steal from them -- so uncle chucklefuck has a new mission! which is teaching these whippersnappers how to do CRIME.

relatedly, two of the party members who are decidedly not actually whippersnappers due to various circumstances (dour divine bard + SAD: the Warlock) had a sidebar where they were like "hey i maybe Get you in a weird way. anyway are you also feeling 'i just met this dragonborn herbo but if anything happened to her i would kill everyone in this room and then myself?' yes? awesome. good talk."

great and functional party with tremendously admirable coping mechanisms you got there. would be a shame if they were to trauma-bond or something.

[kindred-spirit-93]

Sup, it's me Astron

I adore the idea of a reality TV show with the Olympians. Poseidon rambling underwater, but the only thing we get from him is bubbles - has to be my favorite. I love the idea of that gag

I'm currently taking a break from the Astral Train brainstorm asks, mainly because I have the memory of a goldfish, so I can't remember everything I've already told you - but if you have any questions please let me know! I hope everything is well!

ahahaha that would be my bad! ill get to them inshallah and then ill make a masterpost thingy because i am, much like my blog, a little very all over the place. i need to spring clean the place fr.

im something of a goldfish cracker memory owner myself (fun fact humans now have an average attention span less than a goldfish!)

--

i am in fact a lil curious about the coup hera and athena kicked off (be it in the context of AT or the mythos whichever u prefer) if thats up ur alley :D

keeping up with the olympians!! muehehe perhaps i could take a few scenes from astral train and draw a lil comic >:)

in the meantime have a doodle of the olympian bros lol ft. a sopping wet poseidon bc i havent recovered from get in the water yet

slapped some colours on (dont look too close lol)

i had a bit of a brainwave w zeus' braids being zig zags like lightning, but the rest of his hair is neal illustrations'! also the idea was a sun bleached moment but idk it looks odd with the colours lol. glimmering gold (similar to heras in concept) and side burns lmao. i think hed prefer looking more youthful. do kings wear crowns? didnt know what kind of headpiece to give him. ignore his random earring pls

kickass poseidon! his hair is bluer here and he has a bit of a surfer tan thing going on lol? i think hed spend time on land/ near the surface a lot bc his love for the earth and leave amphitrite do most of the ruling and administrative work. he still lives in the palace but he doesnt like to be tied down to one place. she made him the necklace tho :) they have an interesting & unconventional dynamic i think.

hades my beloved, the idea of him being something of a nerd abt minerals and geology and all that good stuff is so funny to me i love it. his jewelry is gold but mainly precious stones. the eldest and most sensible. also the tallest (ha! take that zeus). i think he and persephone do each others hair, its like a bonding thing they have; she weaves gold into his hair and he picks flowers to put in hers. they als have an interesting dynamic. i love complex couples lol

poseidon with his hair down! classic wet strand of hair in his face bc hes going through it. his hair pin (not shown lol) is a lil harpoon hehe

--

thank u for ur patience and see u in the next one >:D

[hypnotisedfireflies]

(DISCLAIMER: So this is more a thought to explore...rather than a prompt per say...but you could also treat it as a prompt if it inspires you!)

Our favourite bunnies go at it pretty fearlessly because Tess can't have any more children. How does that landscape change if she could?

I've read some fairly unreal Pregnant!Tess fics, that's not what I'm suggesting here. But I think it would be interesting to get the Arien treatment 😎 on maybe a conversation or a scare?

(idk, tbh, I really struggled with myself about this one, whether or not or put it to you, but then I thought, hey wth, why not!)

Hi!  Thank you for sending this thinky piece to me!  I’m going to answer it here rather than a prompt (hope that’s okay) as I’m not sure I could do this justice as a full story, but it is certainly interesting to consider.  I’ve been turning it over in my mind for a few days to get my thoughts in order.

Making Tess infertile in Drifters was deliberate to avoid traversing into some very dark territory because, other than the killjoy of pregnancy scares, I knew I’d be looking at going into multi-miscarriage territory.  I think given the diet, the lifestyle, the tension and the constant dangers, bringing a baby to full term would be extremely difficult.  And while bringing a baby (or a dozen, given these bunnies) into the story could’ve had its moments, I think it would have ultimately drawn focus away from what I wanted to do.  And I also felt, well, they had enough to worry about without tormenting them with that, too.

I’m also kind of untraditional myself, so the progression of in love = married = babies isn’t really my jam, even though I still find the concept kind of intriguing from a fictional perspective.  (I mean, Tess and Joel as parents?? It is appealing.  And I kind of flirt with that a bit with the fever dreams).

So with my rationale of why I did not do this out of the way I can now just give you a brain dump of Tessjoel pregnancy ideas that I might have done something with (and who knows? Still might somehow ...!)  So trigger warning out there, this would be dark:

Tess finding out she’s pregnant between Missouri and Tennessee and hiding it for as long as she can, hoping it will just go away on its own or more likely

Joel figuring it out before she does because he is Attentive Father and Husband 101 and being like, “… is there any chance that maybe you might be … pregnant there, Tess?”

Violent morning sickness resulting in the trio holing up somewhere we didn’t see in the story – Tess quickly unable to travel, basically.

Everyone being extremely miserable and scared about it the whole time.

Tess ultimately miscarrying and then a whole lot of trauma and guilt because she wanted that to happen.

Joel not there when it occurs and Tess only telling him like, days later that it’s gone.

Joel wanting the baby the whole time, because his key jam in life is to be a father, and although he was sensibly scared about what this would all mean he actually felt good about it.

Tess then breaking things off with him entirely, not so much because she was afraid of falling pregnant again but because of the guilt being amplified when she realises that he really wanted it.

Meeting up with another group a few weeks later when they get moving again and Tess deciding that she’s going to leave with them.

I don’t know, maybe not seeing one another for awhile?  Months?  Maybe a year or so?

Finding one another again, maybe somewhere like Sioux Falls/if not actually Sioux Falls.

Naturally they’re at it like rabbits again, nothing has changed about the way they feel for one another.

Things are good for awhile, they’re careful.

She’d fall pregnant again and this time they’re like, okay, maybe this is something good, maybe we should do this.

Tess extremely stressed, maybe not so ill this time around but not really coping so well.

Joel being the one to have a handle on it, he’d just think she was so fucking beautiful pregnant it’d be sickening lol. He’d be rationing himself to give her the best food etc.

Another miscarriage, this time Joel is there and with her the duration.

This time it pulls them closer together rather than pushes them apart.

… I did say it’d be pretty dark, lol.  So yeah, I think that’s probably the kind of journey the Arien Treatment would’ve given that storyline.  It would have changed everything.

[synonomy]

What are your Remus and Sirius HCs that you try to incorporate in your fics?

Oh mannnn there’s a lot lol but here’s a general picture of how I see them and their dynamic:

My Remus is modelled heavily on young David Thewlis, which is why he’s always a nerdy beanpole with legs for days. Like David, I think he’s unconventionally attractive— even average at first glance, but his hotness kinda sneaks up on you as you get to know him. He wears a lot of comfy old man clothes and never knows what to do with his hair. But he was born to wear tweed. And he looks incredible (in mine and Sirius’ opinion) with a light beard/stubble. He’s also hung like a horse (don’t @ me, it’s just true).

I draw a lot from David’s portrayal of Remus in the films too— that hot professor energy just hit so right, you know? 😩 So he’s calm, deliberate, sensible, soft spoken, witty. A little socially awkward and emotionally repressed, though he does his best to be kind and understanding with people. He’s highly articulate due to a lifetime of reading books and writing, which is why he’s a master dirty-talker, though paradoxically he rarely ever swears or uses vulgarity. He is an avid user of terms of endearment for Sirius (love, sweetheart, darling). He’s academically inclined and quite intelligent, though not naturally gifted the way Sirius is; he has to work at it.

I also think growing up as a poor and ostracised person has given him a few complexes which, in my head, basically translate to him being a soft dom lol. He has a need for control (because God forbid a dark creature such as him lose control) he despises the idea of being a burden or people feeling pity for him, and he often sucks at taking care of himself— since, subconsciously, he doesn’t think he deserves it. So he turns his attention outwards, doting on and providing for and taking care of other people instead. I get into this pretty explicitly in Starting a Stone, though that universe is set in a time where Remus (and his relationship with Sirius) has experienced a shitton of growth. Thus, I write him more sincere and emotionally forthright than I would otherwise.

By contrast, my Sirius is a vulgar and defiant little shit (affectionate) who wears his heart on his sleeve. Coming from the oppressive and pompous nightmare that was his pureblood upbringing, his complexes revolve around a need for ‘freedom’, or the need to be himself unapologetically, for better or worse. He cannot abide dishonesty, repression or passive aggression. Naturally, this can cause a hell of lot of conflict with Remus, but that’s exactly why they’re so good for each other. Remus benefits from Sirius calling him out on his bullshit, and Sirius benefits from Remus’ voice of reason/calming presence when he gets too caught up in his emotions and frustrations. Definitely see him as a somewhat bratty bottom, demanding and determinedly unashamed of what he wants (in further defiance of his puritanical upbringing).

Physically, the dude is very conventionally gorgeous and he knows it, though he doesn’t attach much significance to it. He dislikes wearing formal/stifling clothing for obvious reasons, but he enjoys seeing Remus wearing it (this trope has somehow snuck its way into both my major series lol). He keeps his hair long as another measure of petty defiance, but he also dislikes the faff of dealing with it, which is why his standard hairdo is a quick and messy bun.

Oh, and he’s average height, he just looks miniature stood next to the giant lank that is Remus lol

[grandhotelabyss]

Thoughts on Hemmingway? I am so ignorant of literature, that I kinda have to take people like Logo Daedalus for their word when he says that he is basically a hacky Bukowski writter. Still I read "The Man and the Sea" and thought it was alright, but still, I'm not sure if it's just do to my more than limited knowledge and experience with real literature or if Logo's takes on literature are also "flawed" (like I dont take him serious in shit like tv shows, like he was praising that shitty "The chosen" show till it had some neocon austerity propoganda in it, ignoring how cynically "soulles" and cheap it was from the start ((also trying to say the live action One Piece isnt totall garbage which should be obvious to everybody, but thats just my own pet peeve lol))

Judgments of Hemingway have been so wrapped up in political signaling and counter-signaling since at least the advent of second-wave feminism that it's hard to know what to say—and in a different sort of signaling and counter-signaling, this time aesthetic, about the merits of minimalism vs. maximalism in narrative prose.

Politically, Hemingway was still the paragon of male chauvinism when I was educated, whereas he has now re-appeared, thanks largely to Ken Burns's (very good) PBS documentary, as the disabled trans heroine we've been waiting for. I tend to look on those kinds of shifts with amusement, since they are essentially academic squabbles, but I am glad we've caught up to his posthumous queer novel, The Garden of Eden, which I read this year and found excellent despite its supposedly being unfinished. (I think it is finished; he just knew he couldn't publish it in the '50s.) It's obviously a book written at white heat; it feels like it might combust in your hand.

The quality of that novel aside, and of The Sun Also Rises, I tend to believe he's best approached as a poet: a writer who explored his unique sensibility in his particular epoch in a brand-new style, a style that transformed not only his own language but several other languages as well (he was and remains beloved in France, Russia, China...). He is a lyric writer, fundamentally, and had a lyric writer's effect: on the very way we speak and write. His American renovation of English, his new democratization of literature, makes him a 20th-century Walt Whitman. He was also, though he didn't flaunt it, a very learned man who knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't write simply because he was stupid!

On the other hand, he's bound to look inadequate next to a preternaturally gifted true novelist like Faulkner, who was rather an American Shakespeare. Faulkner's own critique of Hemingway—here comes the minimalism vs. maximalism debate—was that he did not show courage as a writer, that, in other words, his famously rigorous style was too controlled and even too populist to touch greatness. I probably agree with this, less as a critique of Hemingway at his best than as a critique of the idea of making him the model writer whom everyone had to imitate, which is what he became in the middle of the 20th century and in some creative-writing pedagogy.

(Minimalism and maximalism should be thought of as techniques always available to any writer, to be used depending on the needs of a particular project. Even my own work exhibits both extremes, with The Quarantine of St. Sebastian House and The Class of 2000 more toward the Hemingway end of the spectrum and Portraits and Ashes and Major Arcana more toward the Faulkner. The power of the great late-20th-century American novelists—McCarthy, Morrison, DeLillo—is that they could do both, often in a single book.)

Speaking personally, I fell in love with Hemingway when I discovered him as a teen. I always had a tendency to write purple prose, so I needed to learn that minimalist lesson, and I found him at just the right time for it. Before I read him, I never knew you could do so much with so little. I could see even then that he was uneven, that The Old Man and the Sea was labored and portentous and A Farewell to Arms beautifully written but not much of a novel, compared to the perfect crystalline crispness of short stories like "Soldier's Home" or "In Another Country" or even the taut, dramatic The Sun Also Rises.

(I've never read For Whom the Bell Tolls, I should admit; you probably need to read that one to form a complete judgment.)

In short, I like Hemingway, I even love Hemingway. I would not put him in the front rank of the novelists, but I would put him in the front rank of artists who work in language, if you get my distinction. If you want to know where to start with Hemingway, I would get either a selection of short stories or The Sun Also Rises, not The Old Man and the Sea.

[astharoshebarvon]

never understood why some people hate yuki in given. i mean seriously, have some sympathy and decency for the boy, his death was so tragic thats its really pathetic you hate him. mafuyu and uenoyama adore each other, why do you have to think he is some third wheel when he is dead? mafuyu loved yuki, nothing will ever change that. the name of the freaking manga is in reference to him, are you for real, to actually hate yuki?

it's pathetic how these weirdos don't hate that horrid, homophobic bitch classmate of uenoyama who was disgusting as hell, don't dislike his equally gross sister. i love how he doesn't give either of them time of the day. is it same crap of not hating fem characters even if they are right trash, like how actual pedo women in fiction books and manga get pass but male characters who arent even vile are condemned.

sesshoumaru was an exception to this rule. glad that shit flopped. he didnt deserve what was done to him.

otherwise, its' just same case of absolving bad fem characters of their rubbish. i don't even get why given artbook and illustrations have these two dumb females and not yuki in group pictures. like seriously, what did he even do wrong? the answer is nothing. he did nothing bad. he was a good guy, no matter what delusions people may have.

this kind of mentality explains so well how tom riddle sr was treated, he had no obligation to stay with his rapist wife. merope can go to hell for what she did to him.

then i saw another weird post on twitter, why is omegaverse manga getting anime. my god, please cry harder about it. i am so glad that sweet BL manga is getting an anime adaptation. omegaverse was always always for MM SLASH, it's the origin for it, there is no such thing as straight omegaverse, 99 % erase the core, gay element and make it het. shut up.

i am glad so many people are excited for it, the weirdos can stay mad. the hets get tons (hell, almost all of them are het) of anime, crappy shoujo/josei anime with annoying fem leads who are so off putting it's unreal. let's not pretend those anime would be remotely liked if it werent for hot guys in it and a good looking ML. i can name a lot of them but i am afraid i'll actually end up feeling annoyed for hours.

some even have blatant homophobia, seriously, get out. i am so glad gay erotica, BL is way way more popular these days. it actually feels nice.

akatsuki no yona, skip beat, cardcaptor sakura ( not clear card ) tsubasa reservoir chronicles, sacrificial princess are gems among shoujo/josei. josei novels and mangas are usually so horrible its amazing cringe and lame stuff like that even gets printed. especially Josei TL. they are a joke. i bought one novel only for the illustrations. the story was atrocious.

no wonder weirdos liked and defended that slut from ten count. may that bitch burn in hell for what she did to shirotani.

i don't even know why we should even care for that gross ex in therapy game. she wasnt getting enough attention from shizuma so she cheated on him. please, just shut the hell up! she was a cheating scumbag and nothing will ever justify her bull. like, how do you even justify this kind of garbage, literally no sensible person would feel sorry for her. if you arent getting attention doesnt mean you jump to another fellow. get help if you are that foolish and strange. you can bet if same crap was in het story literally no one would be trying to make excuses for her, because some weirdos were. ew. she was vile and horrible.

there was even a creepy post about couples from gay anime, some fool watermarked the bottom guys with caption, why are you not girl.

lol, please go get help. ask yourself why are you such a horrible person? they'll always be two guys and in love. they are gay. cry harder and stay mad that gay ships and gay erotic/bl is popular.

[alphabetboyluvr]

hii holly <33 hope you're well 💗🌟

okay so I'll try to make this as sensible as possible lol

but ! I just think you see jungkook in such a way that nobody else does and it's just sooo beautiful to me !!

mostly in your writing (I'll take bd specifically) the way you write him in byeols pov is just magical and sooo jungkook ! and it's even better when you associate him with the stars or like how he looks and appreciates things

I once said how you remind me alot about b (still do hehe x) and I feel like when you write him in bd, it's the way you like sort of see him in real life? you get me, idkkkjqkaka and you said you're more like annie in cv? I haven't read it yettt :,( but I feel like it's even more beautiful !!

it's probably so dumb but after reading bd I literally see and understand your words and I'm like, oh.my.god. this is so jungkook and I'll never see him the same ever again. (bd has so much impact plss we love uuu 💖) like he's exactly what you see him as, in my eyes too. so starry eyed and such a lovely boy. makes me feel like a little girl aghh I'm just soo in love <33

but yeah just wanted to say thank you because you have corrupted my brain (in a very good way) and bless your heart and mind because it's so lovely and I genuinely think they're covered in glitter plsjajja love uu holly mwah mwah !!!!

100% I describe jk in the way that I see him!! he's arguably the most beautiful muse, and so I try my best convey him a way that feels worthy of him 🥹

hahaha some people really don't like b (someone literally commented earlier that they've always found her annoying 😭) but I love her a lot, so I will take that as a compliment!! <33

he *is* the loveliest boy 🥹

i saw fic writers getting a lot of heat on twt a couple of days ago, and to an extent I get it, but so many of us just utterly adore the boys and use writing to express that. I always hope that how much I truly care for the tannies comes across in my writing, and so this is a lovely ask to receive 🥹 thank you!!!

i wasn't the first person to associate him with stars and I wont be that last, because its truly what he is 🥹✨️

thank you so much for such a kind ask <33

[angevinyaoiz]

Love the designs in the new comic! How would Richard's later years look like in the AU?

I actually haven't thought about how the boys would look like or what their lives would be outside of my Humorously Recreating Historical events--especially since the timeline is very compressed so everyone is basically speedrunning 30-40 years of Events in like 1-2 teenage summers lol. I wrote a lot of thoughts below (also going into overthinking of How Burger King Universe even works), TLDR the binary is he'd either be a Dead Teen who rocked out a little too hard and made the wrong random person mad or he'll grow up and become a completely normal guy with no relation or connection at all to the historical Richard the lionheart aside from that tumultuous period, but to do so one has to exit the story I make in my head hahaah

Burger King Edgyverse : In this verse it would prob sort of be one of those really edgy teen narratives that follow the Richard timeline of he goes to the crusade concert, has massive interpersonal drama stemming from the 10000 personal and familial issues that escalates and catastrophizes all the relationships, goes home, tries to fix things, continues to have massive drama, maybe comes close to fixing it but then ends up dying really randomly out of some weird karma situation IDK maybe it's like the legend where some kid who he forgot about HATES him and then idk hit him with their car or smth on Châlus street while he's busy beefing. And then everyone is finally like damn.....he was a hot mess but he did some cool stuff so now we are all going to watch his videos and think Abt his life from another angle recontextualized and we now think he was cool now (PR internet movement gets built up. ). idk I'm a bitch who loves weirdly anticlimactic tragedy so that's one universe.

Kind of is my processing and sticking to the main points of the historical Richard life which always struck me as very Dramatic and almost cyclical, which Is very fun for me. Idk there is something very "cursed" about all the family members and their ends and relationships so following up with that (in a more modern sensibility way) is fun to me.

ALTERNATIVELY:

I also thought about...what if characters in the Bk universe aren't cursed to that eternal return...idk. I had a funny thought earlier like that Geoffrey in BK universe doesn't die, he just becomes self-aware of and chooses to exit bc he's tired of the bullshit hahaa (tv equivalent of actor having to leave the show). In my mind, for the Narrative, some people do have to die, namely in my mind Junior does die in BK universe and shifts the mood from haha sillie goofy conflict to more strained and bitter. After all it IS an AU. Maybe BK Richard can leave being "Richard" timeline behind and be just a guy in an unrelated story who grows up past the predetermined historical event timeline parallels and can be a normal person with average life sort of thing. But that's beyond my scope since I'm mostly interested and focused on reinterpreting specific dynamics in that timeline, and deviating too much is when characters feel less AU and more distant and become different People to me (which would be the point...the historical figure must die for a person to live? Idk.

I know this feels like a weird distinction to make, and prob plenty of ppl probably see my delusions and think it's ALREADY so deviant but its more internal like in my mind I like having specific connections to historical stuff even if it's a weird tangled thread heheh. In general though, all is in good fun.....it's late so I may write later so apologies if this makes no sense at all but thanks for reading this far if u got it hahaah

[approximately20eggs]

@miss-lost-and-found

well the fun thing about dragonbane is that it lets you build a character who is just completely shit at all forms of combat and also cannot use magic so that's what I did with Dorian! the system has "professions" which are sort of like classes but also really not because they only determine your starting ability and then its classless from there on out. anyway, his profession is scholar, so while he's not able to fight he's super useful in about every other situation because he's a walking encyclopedia and also the only party member that put any points at all into charisma. so his job is to look pretty and think about things while the other three deal with fighting lol

he got to be so well-learned because despite being a people person and all that he kind of made himself into a recluse and spent most of his time studying instead of interacting with people. unfortunately because he's an important person in an important family its hard for him to have any relationships without strings attached to them in some way or another. he got so sick of it that he just gave up on it, right up until the time at which he fell out of a carriage on purpose and met the party.

the party teases him lots for being a pretty boy with delicate sensibilities and also for insisting on the existence of imaginary numbers, and he pretends to be annoyed and all that, but really he's relieved to have people that are comfortable enough around him to make fun of him like that without worrying about his family's power. he's enjoying his time basically on the run, when he can be free of that shadow and pressure for a little while. he honestly doesn't think he's well-suited to be his parents' successor, since he's spent so much of his life avoiding politics at all costs. part of him thinks he might have done his family a favor by mysteriously disappearing, since now one of his younger siblings might get to be heir instead and he thinks they'd do a better job. he's not necessarily right about that but he has yet to make that realization lol

he's very aware of his position in society and because of it he can often come off as vain or egotistical when really he's got piss poor self confidence. part of that's an intentional front, but a good chunk of it is also honesty that gets mistaken for bragging. he blames himself for a lot because he's basically grown up feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he's also (as you might have guessed) very avoidant of his problems.

re: the matchmaking, he's known from a pretty early age that he'd end up in an arranged marriage and he's mostly accepted that as fact. it's not how he would prefer things to be, but he basically views it as a duty that he can't shirk. it's not necessarily about courting a girl in and of itself, but that he knows that once he gets married he'll soon be expected to take over as head of the family and its business and settle down produce an heir of his own and etc etc etc. he just didn't realize it would be so soon; it snuck up on him and that, combined with his feelings of inadequacy, is what really made him panic

Tell me about your OCs. I need something to distract me.

💙💙

I've got a good handful since the last time I posted about them! We've got:

Joy (17, he/him), a tiefling wild magic sorcerer for dnd. he is autistic about flowers and has so much trauma and abandonment issues and guilt. very much stuck in the past while simultaneously running from it

Aster (18, any/all), my candela obscura character, who is a former butler that's so very pissed about class divides and is being blackmailed into working with candela obscura

Dorian (24, he/him), my character for dragonbane! he is heir to a wealthy and influential noble family but he's not coping well with the pressure of responsibility and fell out of a carriage on purpose because his parents wanted him to meet a girl and he panicked

the bladesinger (it/they). can't say much more on this one but its got the flat affect monotone swag of the century and takes everything 100% literally. doesn't understand what a "lie" is because it doesn't understand why you would say something that's not true

honorary mention for the spuneras because I think I was still posting regularly when they came to be but I don't think I ever said much about them. they are a system (Valrynn, she/her, and Lumarin, he/him) and they are a drow barbarian

any pique your interest? happy to talk about any of them more :)

[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don��t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit