#its super uhh yknow

[beastofmoss]

Ah, yes, an dalish old technique: phasing through your romantic interest. A classic.

[mantisgodsaus]

there isn't really a specific question on the ask games that fits but we want to hear you talk about what muse is/was like in selkieverse. she fascinates us based on the roughly two things you've said about her

Yes we can do this absolutely! Fair warning - There Are Things Here We Are Not Stating, mainly for spoiler reasons. Hopefully, they are excluded cleanly enough that this still flows well, but this is a long-ass thing so

Muse, though she wasn't a selkie herself, was close enough to Leif that he felt entirely safe leaving her with care of his pelt. She knew that he was a selkie pretty much from the moment that she met him - there wasn't quite as much baggage built up around the risks of having your pelt just Out And About, at the time, though a lot of selkies were a bit skittish about it, and Leif didn't really hide things.

A marriage, at least for moths, is more a contract of trust than anything else - an expression of trust, a unification of families, and so on and so forth. Somewhat more of one for selkies, with the big blaring weak spot they've got - it's a lot like showing your back to someone and just... hoping that they don't fuck you over. You welcome this particular bug into your family and you trust that they'll watch your back and help raise your children and look after your family when you're gone.

She was the usual person to keep ahold of Leif's pelt during expeditions, so as to keep it safe even when his bug body was in danger from being hurt or killed. She was trusted to keep it safe, or to use it for its transformation if the need ever presented itself - it was more shared between them than anything else during the later stages of their life together, and that meant that she was very, very familiar with how it felt.

Leif died in Snakemouth after having given her his pelt for safekeeping. Just to make sure he had an anchor. Just to make sure he didn't go too deep. Just to make sure that, if something happened, she would know he was okay from the heartbeat of his pelt - or, that if it went cold, she would know to stop, and get out while she still could.

She felt his death in the pelt wrapped around her shoulders. The aftereffects of the venom coursing through his veins, reflected in his pelt, giving the warning she needed to order a repeat. She felt his death throes reflected in the very literal piece of himself still trusted with her all the way out, and all the way home.

She sat at home after submitting the report that declared his death, a dead pelt still settled around her shoulders, standing over the shells of their eggs, knowing that the larvae were in the Ant Nursery where she couldn't know if they were all right or if her whole family had been killed where she couldn't even see, and she felt the shudder of a body restarting as the cordyceps settled into his husk.

Muse knew, for absolute certain, that he died. She felt his death throes. She felt his heart stop on her back. She also knew, for an absolute fact, that he was alive after that, even if she didn't know how or in what form. She knew this, and she could feel the dull pulse of his cordyceps self starting to take over his body in his skin, and she could feel the sealskin starting to change under her fingertips, and she was deadly, deadly afraid of looking away- of taking it off, or simply ceasing to pay attention for slightly too long, and returning to find it dead and vacant again. To that end, she just... didn't take it off.

She didn't take it off, in fact, for several years. Past the point where people thought she was in shock and morning and long into the point that people thought that her husband's death had broken something irreparable in her. She continued to wear it long after her children had emerged from the ant nursery, and long after they had begun to grow into fully-fledged selkies of their own, and long after they had the context to know about It All.

She got into arguments about it. As far as anyone else knew, she was dragging her dead husband's equally dead pelt around 24/7, and once her kids were old enough to understand that whole situation, there was a certain awareness of "hey, this is maybe a bit fucking bizarre to do, don't really like that". It was, in particular, a recurring argument with the son that would eventually become known as Grandpa, as he was of the firm opinion that it was Fucking Weird to walk around with a loved one's dead pelt twenty years after said loved one's death, and that she shouldn't Do That.

Unfortunately for him, this was not an argument he was going to win. Muse, being as stubborn as a bull and with no particular regard to what the neighbours thought, had been doubling down on this particular argument for twenty-eight years already. She had chosen to see this through, and no one could really convince her otherwise, though many of her children would try.

As such, she would remain "that weird lady carrying around her dead husband's pelt and skulking around doing who-knows-what since there's no damn way her husband's life insurance and her dispatch salary from the explorer's association would account for the care and feeding of eight kids plus herself without at least a few jobs in-between and no one knows what the hell she does for a living". The argument, however, would continue.

It would continue, in fact, until after Grandpa had had kids of her own, when Muze was fairly young. The old argument got brought up again, Muse refused to entertain the idea of maybe not being seen as The Local Weirdo, she went off to her room with the usual pelt. She sat, alone, in her room, thinking about the whole Situation. She put on the pelt.

This time, specifically, she chose to put it on in such a way to attempt to shift into Leif's selkie form. It had been years with barely any chance in it, after all. Though she had initially feared disrupting whatever delicate balance was keeping him alive, it had been stable for long enough that she was pretty sure that wearing it wouldn't disrupt something, and she... wanted the assurance, really, that she wasn't going mad. That her choices were based on truth - and that he was still out there, somewhere, even if dead-and-resurructed.

It... worked. With some caveats.

At this point, Leif was entirely merged with the cordyceps components, entirely hosted on crystal hardware, and the mirror that his pelt offered to his body was one where the bone marrow, connective tissue, and structure had entirely been eaten away by now, and the vast majority of the flesh was now composed of cordyceps tendrils that were a whole lot more obvious when they were puppeting around a skin suit with an internal skeleton, and not a relatively rigid exoskeleton.

No one could really deny that her old paramour was alive enough to animate a pelt. Unfortunately, no one could deny that whatever the fuck had happened to him, it had warped his selkie form beyond anything that anyone had really expected to be possible, and absolutely no one wanted to learn what the fuck his body looked like back in Snakemouth, or what form he was alive in, and no one really wanted to touch the pelt that had offered a form like that.

In particular, no one really wanted to see that particular pelt anywhere that someone might try to put it on after that whole fiasco, and no one was particularly fond of the idea of continuing to let Grandma Muse walk around with the living pelt of whatever her partner had become.

After a great deal of arguing, she accepted the compromise of hanging it over the mantelpiece, where she could keep an eye on it even without physically wearing it. She would then proceed to relocate herself to the living room for most of the rest of her days, if only to make absolutely certain that that faint, dull hum beneath the skin was still active- that he was still alive out there, somewhere, in whatever form.

Against all odds, she would live to see his awakening. Unfortunately, she would not live to see him actually return to his family - just to see the tell-tale shudder of a pelt growing active again, as miles below, Leif stirred from his slumber.

Her family are currently engaged in Trying Very Hard Not To Think About The Whole Situation. They are fairly certain that whatever the pelt belongs to, it's still in Snakemouth Den. They are fairly certain that Leif's relation to the family is through it, though theories are more "he's the kid of whatever-it-is and a different moth" than assuming that he Is In Fact Todd's Great-Grandfather.

No one really wants to take the pelt down from the mantelpiece at the moment, and absolutely no one wants to explain the whole Situation to Leif unless they have a better idea of what he's inherited from his other parent, but there's also enough shit going on with them in general that it might just never get brought up until someone directly mentions it.

Leif is currently under the impression that Muse remarried to a selkie because the whole "being a selkie" thing wasn't terribly relevant to the way that his current cordyceps took up residence and after that whole Situation he was not especially eager to delve into previously repressed memories.

Predictably, this whole setup goes Terribly when poked at, especially as Leif's pelt is a whole lot more autonomous than your average selkie pelt, being more than a century old by now and belonging to a fungus who is very much set up in a way where his disconnected individual body parts can act autonomously on remnants of whatever priorities are/were in the main control system.

It is still hung over the mantelpiece.

[yoshistory]

i know this is like stupid but its affirming how my voice is deepening even still. however. it ALSO makes me feel like i inherently SOUND like ... meaner or too assertive just by talking .. and that i STILL have to like lilt up my voice even though im literally taking testosterone to help thicken my vocal cords on porpose.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

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

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

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

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

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

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

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

➸ masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

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

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

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

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for no flirting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Bros.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. 

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He feels like throwing up. 

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

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

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

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

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

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

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think about fucking you all the time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10:34am you: do it then

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

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

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

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

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

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

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

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

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

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

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

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

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—” He stops himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

[the end]

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

➸ masterlist

taglist:

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@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

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

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

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@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

[petratherrock]

With regards to Mai

Yknow how sometimes you like one (1) image on social media and suddenly that's All it's gonna show you now? Yh that was me with atla--im not complaining, I love the series

It's just that it somehow managed to make me wanna make people love Mai too lol. For no other reasons than that I love her

So here are some tumblr posts I found like some excited maniacal racoon scrounging old newspapers from a trashcan and jsut being super excited with its findings, thumbtacking them on the alley wall for all to see

Behold these patchworks of tumblr screenshots of one of my favourite underrated sometimes i also think hated character

This one's from the comic, spoiler alert. And uhh it's not their children just so you know. They're their respective younger siblings iirc

Oh happier times. I still headcanon that they're married and Izumi is their daughter btw heh. I love this ship. You don't have to like them. I do tho.

[purplepodcast]

how do i tell someone

“hey ***** uhh idk how to say this but yknow its after 9 pm so it doesnt count right?

uhhh but basically i want you to be our queer platonic partner system. so like our system is dating your system but aplatonic and asexually :) ofc thats just on a base level so if different alters want to make friendships, family relationships, or date they can. your system would be our system’s partner and we’d be affectionate but not like romantic yknow? just best friends+. idk im sorry i know its super soon but we just really like you and its 100% ok to say no. i hope you dont hate me for asking😭”

any tips on how tk say this to the person i wanna send it to?

[wasyago]

Love your art! I was super inspired by your Gillion design specially. He's so squishable (positive).

Do you have a specific process for designing characters? Be it original or reimagining canon designs of fandom

thank you!! :D

hmm, well, i don't remember the last time i properly designed an original character, so nothing on that front. for reimagining designs... i don't have a step by step way i do it, it varies from character to character, but i can point out some of the things i do that might be helpful?

i largely base my designs on the vibes the character gives me: their manner of speech, their actions, their story and personality. and also the world and environment around them if it affects the character. it sounds pretty obvious but like, duh.

im gonna try and explain on gillion's example since its the one you mentioned. he's a himbo, a swimmer and a paladin, so he's gonna be buff or at least a little thicker. he's a triton, so he's short. he's also short for the reason that he is in an unfamiliar for him world and he might feel small in it. he's also short because it makes him look almost child like, connecting it to his trauma and lack of childhood that manifests in his behavior now. gillion is kind or at least trying to be, so his features will be softer and rounder. but sometimes he's chaotic or harsh, so he has some sharp features too. though they're secondary, the softness is still the main focus.

i also really like to think and overthink the designs while drawing. i try to keep everything simpler and less detailed, showing personality with shapes rather than uhh presence(?), but that means that details i do include have a lot of thought behind them.

one of my favorite things is practically. i love to think about what a character would realistically wear in the climate they're in, which clothing would be comfortable for their anatomy and field of work. would certain things get in the way or would they be helpful? how would they style their hair, do they need it tied back or do they not care? would they wear make up, why yes or why not? etc etc etc. i like asking myself questions and answering them in the design.

continuing with the gillion example. he's constantly wet because he's a triton (again, yes), so it would be more comfortable for him to wear a wetsuit. other clothes may stick to him and be uncomfortable, or get stuck on his fins, etc. he doesn't have any piercings, there's no way he would've gotten them in the undersea, and on the surface i don't think there was anything meaningful enough to promt him to get it. plus fin ears. he doesn't have his hair styled in a complicated way because of the coral on his head. doesn't wear a lot of jewelry because he jumps in the water a lot and it'll easily get lost. no belts or flowy bits because they constrict the movement and might get in the way.

and then like. all the personal headcanons and preferences and little bits and things. there's a lot of elements that i draw just because i like how they look. or because that's a comfortable thing for me, or because it's cute or hot or sad or whatever. or because i saw it while looking for inspiration and i really liked it. just bullshitting with the design and making it my own, yknow?

for gillion. gave him a cool long tail and lots of fins everywhere because i like it when inhuman characters are openly and visibly inhuman and have distinct features. and gillion is VERY much not human, part of his personality is being confused about humans. big ol yellow eyes with slits — look cool, also doubles as an inhuman feature, also makes him look curious about the world. small black stripes all over his body — make him look more fishy, plus because there's a lot of them and they're all the same they form a pattern that looks more like a natural anatomical feature and draw less attention. coral that goes around his head and not only the front like a tiara— makes it feel more three dimensional and looks cool in perspective (also i kinda just drew it wrong and never fixed it). coral and fins are pink — adds some much needed color variation and contrast, plus pink is one of the more natural colors which again make him look animalistic and not magical, plus ties in with pretzel. his skin is closer to green than blue — removes blue from the color pallet (especially with his eyes being yellow instead of blue), making the design more coherent and pleasing, allows me to properly introduce reds and purples without it looking like a mess of colors (although it still does sometimes). sharp teeth — fish, cute. yellowish underbelly — supports the yellow for the eyes and makes it stand out less, plus again, animalistic feature. little to no details on the clothing — creates good negative space that lets the eyes rest and focus the attention on everything else. his fringe and hair are floating around and don't follow the laws of physics — personal headcanon that it always looks like he's under water, plus adds roundness to the design because of the waves and curls.

ookay haha sorry didn't mean to write down literally every design decision here-- kind of derailed the post again.

basically yeah, for me designing is like a dialog with myself where i ask and answer questions. also something that wasn't mentioned are references and inspiration. if i don't have a good idea when i start, i usually scroll through my gallery or pinterest for some time to get ideas and figure out the general direction i want to take the design, maybe also find some fun stuff to include, etc.

hopefully this long ramble was at least somewhat helpful or gave you insight on my progress. i wanted to draw some things to also visually explain the design decisions for gill, but i think I'll do it later and in a separate post, and maybe include chip and jay too...

umm good luck 👍👍

[2haetls]

haiii >_< thoughts on dogboy tsumugi... he has been plaguing my brain a little too much this whole week...

hehe i love this man.. puppy boy mugi!!

short dogboy tsumugi aoba

nsfw sfw hcs/drabble under read more

sketch info,, nsfw hcs, sfw hcs, body hcs ( just his hands and uhh.. weewee..), that's all but its pretty short

dogboy tsumugi is super, super sweet n clingy. He's always attached to your hip unless he's busy working, kissing you, pawing at your legs, arms, anywhere he can touch. tsumugi can and will try and bring yoy anywhere he goes, not even for assistance. you think it's cute how his tail wags so happily, although he tries to hide it with blunt remarks.

He's still how he normally is, just a little more stupid, so eager to help you even if he gets something wrong. pet his head, scratch his ears, and kiss him while you call him a good boy. though he lacks tact, he'll try his best not to hurt you or anyone else around him, such as his friends and the people he works with.

his hands are pretty big already, but as a puppy, his hands are huge. imagine ZZZ lyacons hands, yknow? he likes to hold your hand, his larger ones almost completely engulfing yours.

the feeling of his knot pressing against the rim of your hole was heaven. Puppyboy tsumugi is desperate when he fucks, digging his nails into your hips and licking at your neck with hearts in his eyes. his cock is a little bigger than before; 8.5 in, and a little more flushed, definitely a lot hairier at his base, a large patch of blue hair that tickles your nose when he pushes your head down focused on his own pleasure.

at first, he doesnt ever use his hands for you, just his mouth or cock, and when he figures out you get off to his large fingers plunging in and out of you, he regrets not using them earlier, now he'll sit under your desk while you play games and eat you out/suck you off and finger you til' you're on the brink of release, your legs trembling and you mute your mic for him to stop, leaving you with a broken and boring orgasm.

tsumugis thighs are nice and soft yet muscular. It's easy to hold his legs open as you suck him off/eat him out. his chest is 10x more sensitive than before, too.

dog(girl)boy mugi is even clingier, never letting you go, following you and making you follow him. his face is always buried into your neck whenever it can be, sniffing you until he's overwhelmed and his panties are soaked. likes to sleep with your cock/strap/fingers in him from time to time just to help him sleep better ( thats what he says, but its just for easy access )

his cunt is always so wet for you while he humps your thigh pathetically waiting for your approval, for you to pay attention to him. he'll do this until your fingers are stretching him out and hes on the brink of the orgasm to ask for you to put it in/scissor.

gonna tweak out i stopped liking this ill probably updatr it

[funkyglitch]

hi im fucking alive.

rewatched lmk while shitting,, and uuuuuuuuhhhhhh....noticed smth

IM NOT SURE IF ANYONE DID, SO 😭😭 EAUAUUFHGHGU (if i make ANY grammar mistakes,, uuhh..im not american. i do not do english. its nit my main language 🕴️)

SO WE ALL KNOW, KINGKONG BASTARD KILLED THE EGGPLANT EMO SHORTSTACK, RIGHT?? right !!! peobably— but the thing is, bro always seems to kill him on like. mid-jttw or something.

well, yes, that DOES happen in the book— yk, cus macaque impersonated him and all, making quite a ruckus. so bim bam, wukong kills his ass.

but honestly, lmk is like....a fanon version of jttw i guess??? cus like, some stuff arent..canon, as what i heard 😭😭 so that may not happen, the thing is— we dont know why the fuck bro killed macaque. its not really..confirmed? yet? the only thing we know is that a huuuge fight happened

but when?

look closely

(this one is not really clear uhh...but u can still see his clothing and armor right ?!)

in jttw, during the journey, wukong had a circlet on, all that time. and his attire waaasss pretty different!

yep, and he had his circlet.

now, on the previous screenshots— wukong has no circlet. plus, his attire is COMPLETELY different. and that clothing seems familiar, isnt it???

😐.

😐😐.

this is pretty much how he looked like after jttw.

after the journey, he has his fillet removed. cus, yk, changed man and all that jazz !! he could pretty much think better, i guess, mellowed down— and all.

what confuses me is WHAT happened? what happened for him to get all cuckoo brains and go ballistic on macaque???

if it was him during his journey to the west, it would be a lot more reasonable. cus, yknow, back then, wukong was pretty irrational with his decisions. did lots of violence. pretty much pow pow..

but after jttw?

he mellowed down !! yknow, but still a bit..questionable- in a way! but hes mellowed down! he had more insight, wukong was taught and he learned, and from that— he changed

so what happened?

what was so bad that wukong killed macaque?

i mean, theres gotta be a reason— cus if i killed macaque, i wouldnt be happy abt it and wont forgive myself at all. but wukong seems to resent macaque when finally meeting him, it was like bro held some personal grudge

so i ask again, what happened that caused the big fight? that drove wukong to kill macaque?

———

ANYWAY SUPER UNRELATED TO THIS...wait no, its related someway— BUT LOOK.

i do not think you get THAT scar from a fucking STAFF. a staff that's..circlish. that seems more like a scar from like, a sharp pointed object honestly.

...dont think the staff could cause that soo...

AHEM ANYWAY, the end. im pretty much rambling my head off here..dunno if anyone mentioned this up yet so ummm...yeeehdhjdjbdbhbhc kay bye

[inbetweenhours]

so concept, humans are space orcs traffic series/3rd life  au featuring human Scott because he has main character energy and is unsurprisingly my fav character in most smps-

anyways uhh I doodled this sloppy concept like a week ago because I on and off daydream about space aus with hermits and life series characters y’know? Anyways I actually go far enough in daydream mode to double down and talk about the concept in a brainstorming discord and ended up with the following plot, which will explain the context of the doodles lol. Enjoy

Basically to my memory it was a very basic usual humans are space orcs kinda set up. Or at least a concept I’ve seen enough times to grasp and remake. Humans are kind the boogey-men of the universe. Underdeveloped enough they haven’t been able to reach out to the rest of the galactic community on their own. Were largely considered protected for a while, and there was lots of disputes politically about interfering with them.

This all came to a head when a group of humans had gotten off planet, likely through malicious outside intent, and ended up breaking havoc and killing many aliens. Pretty deserved but with no survivors and gruesome display of adrenaline force and cruelty they immediately earned a name as the boogeymen of the greater universe.

SO onto plot we actually care about with that basis in place. The 3rd life characters are all champions of a super illegal fighting ring run by a group of watcher adjacent aliens probably. Some have been champions longer than others, some are much newer. They are kept in various different cells around the facility when not fighting to contain them, since they’re all various types of aliens with unique strengths and weaknesses. The unique layout of the fighting matches, and proximity of cells allows very specific groups of them access to each other most of the time. 

For example, the Dogwarts folks are in cell blocks close to one another, and thus have time between fights to socialize. They have the opportunity to forgive injuries and make plans.

Jimmy is a bit special, a unique alien. Kinda a cross between a nymph/floran and an avian yknow? So he’s very pretty and incredibly fragile with his stupid bird bones. He is often, if not always the starter event for fight nights. Him losing his match (because he literally never wins) is the kind of kickoff to the main event. Then he is kept separate from all else to be healed and such. Somewhere a close eye can be kept on him than others, can’t have their favorite canary dying after all?

Nearby to Jimmy is where Scott is kept when its brought in. Scott is, of course, human. He cannot communicate with anyone like the other prisoners can, and is having a considerably tough time.  He proves push come to shove that human survival will win, and he will fight and fight well. However he also shows restrain, making him terrifying but perfect for these fights where they don’t actually want a champion dead, lest they have to be replaced.

Scott is kept in close proximity to Jimmy also to be kept under watch, though much more because he is considered a much higher risk than other fighters. Because of this though, he and Jimmy end up forming a kind of bond. They’re the only non hostile presence the other has and despite the language barrier they get along. They even begin learning to communicate, though its uniquely not quite either language.

There's definitely other background dynamics and shit happening with other fighters but these two have my focus rn so sorry. 

The actual plot kicks off with Grian, formerly staff of the fight pit went rogue and for his disobedience became a fighter himself. He hatches an escape plan, ends up finding a way of communicating it to as many of the other fighters has he can, and fight his opportunity to spring it. 

Gotta clarify, the fights are run either on a big old travelling ship. Like a BIG ship that smaller ships can doc on to come watch fights n stuff. Allows for maneuverability n hiding. OR an obscure ass moon.

Anyways so Grians springs his plan, the establishment is in chaos. The other fighters are making a break for where ships are parked with the intention of hijacking one and escaping together. Whatever beef anyone has from the amount of breaks and bruises were given in the pit aside, they gotta get out of this together. That's why the group waits as long as they do while Grian (follows by Scar for backup) hunt down Jimmy to get him out too.

They hadn’t expected to find Scott, the human. They hadn’t fully considered Scott for saving. So new, and so dangerous. But they find him crouched over Jimmy, unconscious and various of their captors strewn around. Unconscious or dead Grian doesn't check.

He wants to get to Jimmy, but Scott won’t back off. Scar manages to deescalate and its terrifying but they manage to communicate bringing Jimmy with them. Scott picks Jimmy up on his own, intending to follow them. And Grian finds he doesn’t have much of a choice. The human is coming and also helping them he guesses? He hopes?

They get to the ship the others have yoinked, no one has time to question anything they just get the fuck out of there. They tend to their wounds, watch over Jimmy, and Scott passes out at Jims side once he’s sure he’ll be okay.

The rest of  the actual au would theoretically consist of the various fighters coming to terms with what happened, with their gripes and treatment of each other. Scott learning to communicate, all kinds of misconceptions from everyone being addressed and broken. They learn to trust each other, stay on the run from their poachers, and reunite with a couple helpful family and friends on the way (Pearl, Mumbo, Lizzie,, as ya do. gotta get em in here somehow lol)

anyways that was all it wasn’t a big thing but it’s a fun brainworm. Y’all can do as you want with the thoughts :]

[neutrallyobsessed]

EPISODE 4!!!!!!!!!! COMOOO NO TE ENTERASTE TODAVIA????*

FEET OF SINCERITY

this is visuals are fucking hilarious ngl lmaooo

oh the two face-ness we love to see it!! that reminds me that i wanna see joan recieving a text from topher... yknow, they'd have each others phone numbers~~ uwu♥

oh there WAS a joke about venemous being different from poisonous or whatever MMMMMM ANYWAYS HIM AAAAAAHAJDSJHAHSGH- AY BOLUDOOO AAAAA JSKSJKSJSKSJSK

HMMMM OK GOOD DAY FOR UHH YALL TOO! jjba5 reference ey? he dont have lungs either lolol

YOOOOOO JOANABE??? YEAHHH BABY THATS WHAT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR!! THATS WHATS ALL ABOUT WOOOOOOOrse than a disney cruise with extend family omg they're NOT holding back!!! GOOD!

YOURE LOOKING AT HIM! WITH YOUR EYES! THAT ARE BELOW YOUR EYEBROOOOOWS!!!!!!! xd

white jesus edition jsjsksjkjks but like jfk really is one note, he just has a different note each season hm aight :)

SAY WHAAAAAAAAAT

oh no now they're EDGING they are EDGING OUR COCKS WITH GANDHI AAAAAAA THIS IS KILLING MEEEEE

but joannnn girlieeee why you so insistant in taking you backkk topher darling youre from the reboob you know what you gotta do to have her understand that her place is with the misfits no one liiiikesss and that is so much better and whateverrrr

*(esta noche me la doy en la peraaaa)

SE VIENE LA FIESTA DE LA DIRECTORA DE LA SECUNDARIA DE CLONES, JUANA DE ARCOOO!!! SI!!! LA HIJA DE REMIL PUTA DE LA JUANA SE VA A MANDAR UNA JODA DE LA CHOTA DE SU ABUELO!!! VAMOS A TIRAR A ABE POR LA VENTANA!! TENEMOS PARA ESCAVIAR HASTA LOS MEDICAMENTOS DE SCUDWORTH!!! EL FORRO DEL DJ EDISON ENGANCHANDO TEMAS DEL AÑO DEL ORTOOO! LUCES DEL OJETE Y LA COMETRAPOS DE CLEO QUE PARTE LA TIERRA!!!

PREPARA EL CHAMUYO QUE LE VAS A ENCAJAR AL CORNUDO DE TU NOVIO Y VENITE!! NO TE QUEDES AFUERA PEDAZO DE CULO ROTO!!!!

(all of this was done with the keyboard ahre xd)

oh so the bleachers creatures are in the janitors closet? well im sure theres a vent or something so they can get into the real party hehe ;3

ok, bible-humping!JFK is actually the greatest thing it could happend to him, cause like- the bible is super violent and such and thats SO him i love it, its perfect!

Confucius, you really live up to your name because i'm hella confused on what you just said

OH NOOO im getting "best burger in the world" from regular show flashbackssss i dont know if im liking where this is heading!! ToT

OH YEAH THEM OLD CLONES DANCING LA MACARENA THATS SOME GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE!!

hell yea Harriet likes her boys MANLY, cause she's so straight yknow~

HELL YEA THE SEXY INTRO!!!♥♥♥

JESUS CRISTO USING HIS POWERS FOR GOOD!!! The good of underage drinking~ but thats for the new clones cause the old ones are 36, so they're legal to do whatever they want, except fucking the new clones unless theyre in a state where its legal, but its a cartoon so they all can do whetever crimes they want~~

OHHHH THEM CREATURES ARE MAAAAADDDD!!! WHAT WILL YOU DO?!

gasp!shush!

TRAITOR GETS WHAT HE DESERVES!!! HMMMMMMMM

OMG MARIE CURIE WITH THE CHICKEN HYDRANT GANDHI AAAAAAAA *EXPLODES IN A MILLION PIECES*

THE AMERICAN RIGHT TO BEAR A BEAR, ok the historical humor its just getting better and better omggg

WHAT IN SCIENCES NAME

AND MORE THAN A FRIEND TOO? EHH? CONCHA DE TU MADRE?

OH SHI- UMMM AHJAKSAKSJKASAKSDJH OKKKKKK HE'S- HE'S HERE AJAM YEP THATS- THATS BUFFUCIUS AJAJAJAJOH but like- its a deep moment woaH niceee

AND OH UM THAT TOO! REALLY GOOD DAY FOR CANDWORTH!

OH SHIT THEYRE IN THE FREEZER NOW! WITH GANDHIIII

Rating: VIERNES DE LA JUNGLA A TODO OJETE/10!

Topher Bus has appeared on screen for 57 seconds and listen mister, just because Joan isn't part of the group anymore that doesn't mean that YOU get to disappear from the show. You're going to BE BACK and have some more MOTHERFUCKIN SCREENTIME GODDAMMIT!!!

[whatthefishh]

Hi Mona <33

You're so cooool (and im proud of you in case you havent heard yet!!!)

Okay so exams are killing me even though they actually haven't STARTED yet its just the prep and the stress yknow!!! Anyway you also know I'm very much a slut for Rydal and the way you write him bc uhh he's just so fcuking fine and I love your writing!!

I know you aren't doing drabbles right now but would you spare this desperate and tired soul a few cutie pie Ryda hcs. Just a few smol cute ones abt his soft caring and hnghgnghgng during the high stress school seasons (yeah im projecting whatever.)

ANYWAY!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!

-Clem <333

Hi cutie

Thank you 🥺 and WDYM COOL LMAOO

Exams and exam prep can be super stressful, hope you’re taking care of yourself sweetie. I can definitely spare some Rydal HCs, and I know @campingwiththecharmings @xbellaxcarolinax and @melodygatesauthor have been asking me to drop stuff for our fave nepo baby hehehe

Random Rydal HCs:

Going out for something as simple as a drive isn’t just going for a drive with Rydal. The man puts on cologne and special sunglasses that he says work better for driving but you know it’s bullshit, he just thinks he looks cooler with them on in his vintage and unnecessarily expensive car.

Is the boyfriend that puts his hand on your thigh while driving. Buys you a drinkie drink and critiques your DJ skills loudly and rudely.

A trip to the mall usually means you have to block off a whole afternoon for it. Rydal tries on more clothes than you thought was possible, requesting certain cuts from the retail workers that you don’t even recognize. He definitely tries to fuck you in the changing rooms when the staff leaves you alone, claiming he could make it worth it for you to sit through his little fashion show.

You let him.

The first time you take Rydal thrift shopping he refuses to touch anything in the store. You think he’s mad at you for how little he speaks and how he glared at you when you ask him if the top you’re holding up would look good on you.

To make up for it, he forces you to get a pedicure with him. You thought he was joking but he’s dead serious, his face growing more irritated when you tell him you’ve never had one, opting to save your money and take care of them yourself. He scoffs and essentially drags you by the wrist (why does that action alone have your knees knocking together—) to the salon and picking out your colour for you. You feel quite pretty after you can’t deny but the memory of his face dropping never fails to make you laugh.

Playing board games with Rydal meant screaming matches that ended with the board game toppled over and his lips pressed against yours angrily

Movie nights found you both ripping on the movie choice of the night, commenting almost through the whole thing and making claims of what you’d change, what he thinks would’ve been a smarter decision of the main characters, taking sides and arguing them whole heartedly as if the people in the films and their actions had a direct connection to your lives

Sometimes Rydal would come over while you were in the shower. Sometimes he’d join you, finding it hilarious that you thought he was a serial killer but soon distracting you by dropping to his knees for you.

Sleepovers found you either on opposite sides of the bed or breathing in each other’s skin, arms holding the other close, legs tangled. The nights you spent laying with him were usually the sweetest mornings. Sometimes he’d wake you up with kisses, borderline ticklish movements, not letting up even while you squealed for him to stop. He didn’t let up until he pulled peals and peals of laughter from you, sharing syrupy kisses after and causing early morning butterflies to stir as your heart swelled with affection.

These were extremely random and scatter brained and I’m sorry because I really should be sleeping but I love him so much and I miss him and I promise I’ll work on my WIP soon ❤️ love ya

[br1ghtestlight]

random late night thoughts on my famous jimmy junior concept (specifically w/ tinimmy)

jimmy jr moved away in his sophmore year of high school because his mom got him accepted into a really good and well respected performing arts school in california. mom moved to california to live with him while he auditioned and studied and dad stayed behind with andy and ollie (they both missed their mom and jimmy jr SOO MUCH but they'd get to visit during the summer and spring/winter breaks)

tina and jimmy jr continued on again off again dating thru 8th 9th and 10th grades but they were always friends so tina took it super hard when jimmy jr moved away </3 she dated a few guys after him but honestly despite being a hopeless romantic she never felt much of a spark. i think she just missed him too much & never got over her first love. she vowed off dating until after high school

she definitely cried everyday for WEEKS when he actually moved away and stopped hanging out with her friend group w/ tammy and jocelyn. she still kept in contact with zeke but he had a pretty busy life at that point too yknow how it is

jimmy jr would call and text with tina and their friend group sometimes but he got really busy w/ school and life so they eventually fell out of contact. the type of middle school friend you only keep up with through their occasional facebook status updates

jimmy jr got his big break and became a famous teenage heartthrob type when he was around 17 years old and he did NOOOT take it well at all lol he got a huge ego and made so many terrible decisions <3 bless his heart <3 maybe he even thought he was too good for seymour's bay or his friends back home even though i think secretly he missed them. basically stopped talking to his family around this time. super weird for everybody who knew him in seymour's bay that he was now famous and totally idolized but he became something of a local legend to their town like "the birthplace of jimmy pesto jr omg" which was probably good for tourism

jimmy pesto's also got more randos visiting his restaurant because they wanted to see where jimmy jr grew up and harass his family basically lmao which jimmy pesto HATED especially since he became estranged from jimmy jr

it probably settled down after a few years when everybody realized jimmy pesto doesnt talk to his son and also he's an asshole

tina was always very proud of jimmy jr even as his friend because she knew how important dancing and attention/fame had always been to jimmy jr and his passion for it (she'd known him since kindergarten obviously!!!!) so she was always cheering him on like yay ^_^ she might attend an event he was doing locally but ngl he did stay clear of seymour's bay feeling like he had unfinished business there he didnt want to think about. tina was genuinely just happy for him & mostly over her feelings for him

she DID buy all his merch even the cheesy shirtless posters that were definitely made for 12 year old girls to kiss at night. she's LOYAL OKAY!!!!!!

because jimmy jr never came around to seymour's bay and avoided the area he kind of got a reputation with the locals that he thought he was "too good to acknowledge where he came from" so their opinion of him is slightly negative tbh. which isnt UNTRUE but it was less about the town himself and more about the people he left behind

jimmy jr found it really hard to make genuine friendships at his new school bcuz everybody was always trying to compete with each other and eventually he just stopped trying so he's been very socially isolated for a long time which DIDNT help his mental health. he never had another close friend like tina or zeke it was mostly just random party buddies and one night stands but nobody he could be himself around :(

jimmy pesto's relationship with jimmy jr in this fic is much too complicated to describe in a tumblr post lol but its very. uhh. they both want the best for each other and jimmy pesto truly isn't a horrible dad. andy and ollie adore their big brother though and they'll always ask him about his fancy life in hollywood when they go to visit

when jimmy jr first became famous there was some slight attention from younger fans directed @ andy and ollie who were like ooooh they're like jimmy jr but our age and single/not famous?? boyfriend maybe? a few stalkers but that pretty much died immediately when they realized andy and ollie are actual literal Freaks <- they never realized this is also true of jimmy jr though!!!!

he is bisexual. he never told anybody he's bisexual and nobody knows he's bisexual but he is bisexual of course. there is no universe where that kid is straight sorry

[thesoftestcowboy]

thoughts on the colors red, blue, green, and yellow? any comments on the shapes triangle, square, or circle?? rhombus

first of all i gotta tell you that im enjoying this ask twice as much cause i got multiple spam asks since yesterday and did not expect an actual question... anyway. im gonna answer this 200% in earnest, as it should be, obviously (yes i actually did write this out, strap in ig)

red: listen i know everyones favorite color seems to be blue for some reason but red is RIGHT THERE. i heard somewhere that not all languages differentiate the same colors as english (and other european languages), but the first color after light/dark there will be a word for is usually red. idk if thats true but seems plausible, cause yknow whats red? fuckin berries to eat, also blood (either concerning or also to eat, ig). cavepeople knew red was important business. also its pretty and you use it to make pink.

blue: not to imply that blue isnt also good. its got a range. looks very fresh. i do like a teal-ish blue but others are cool also. its really rare in nature ig? but if it does occur its looks rly good! (im saying this rn cause my desktop wallpaper has blue flowers lmao) also if i had a cent for every time i had dreams with intense, seemingly really significant blue night skies, i'd have 2 cents, which isnt much but weird etc etc.

green: ok i like green but, unpopular opinion time, i want neither a green couch nor a green kitchen. i want a pink couch and a blue kitchen. that being said green fucks and is part of some iconic things, such as HES GEEN, and also my favorite song green soop by dooboo, which references the fact that soups can be green (@geminyde)

yellow: finally yellow is super underappreciated. im kinda mad that yellow doesnt suit me super well in clothes cause theres so many cool yellow things id want on a shirt. people only ever think of bright neon yellow but it also had SHADES.

now, the shapes. people at art school will try to convince you that these have some deeper meaning and even a gender (??) cause some guy whose name i forgot claimed they do and thats bs. heres the actual truth about them. triangle pointy. also an instrument! theyre really flexible cause they can have wildly different angles and like?? thats different from squares, which are literally all the same, except for size ig? but thats nice it gives them a sense of stability. theyre ol reliable. ever wonder why they had town squares but never town triangles? well,

anyway the circle is most definitely the princess of shapes. you might think its really basic compared to like uhh a trapezoid or whatever cause you learn about it in kindergarten, but its so fucked up it has ZERO angles?? but then if you wanna render it its got a huge amount of angles/into infinity instead? you can calculate any shapes area with basic maths basically but ohh noo not the circle. its soo special. we love that for him but you gotta be honest.

ngl i had to look up what a rhombus is and its just idk a Raute ig. its a rectangle who wants to be special. which is fine we all need some attention sometime but like, its a rectangle on its side. its doing its own thing. i think it should have a different english name tho tbh. rhombus reminds me of the name rhonda and that has a different vibe. idk if that one was also a question or just an addition tbh but there u go

so thats it thanks for asking like comment subscribe

[soaps-ashes]

intro or whatever haha!! (rewritten!!)

my names Noah, or if you wanna, just call me Soaps!!

im trans ftm, with he/they/it pronouns!!! very cool!!

im also a techkin!!! and uhh objectum!!! heh.

im a minor, yeah!! i dont mind over 18s interacting with me, jjust dont be weird, yknow!! i mostly use this place to look at art and (sometimes) post some!!!

also my bad if i interact/follow yu when yur account says dni minors or sumin! i dont typically look at profiles, im more of a like, reblog then scroll typa person!

if you follow me, expect like, random reblogs and stuff!!! i used to care about keeping my profile on one topic but like...ive lost the plot gang. i reblog whatever i like!

stuff i like: lets just say...im very multifandom...for example...i like ultrakill, madness combat, my chemical romance, pressure (roblox), call of duty, stardew valley...blah...the list goes on and on bro...

all the stuff i like are like in no way similar to eachother its a bit funny

heh. and im super cool actually,,,if yu get to know me!!

okay bye haha!!!

[shadeslayer]

Also doing job applications and screaming to the wind with the "gender required" shit. It's so hateful. RAHHH give us better options or don't require it at all. Sorry hope you get a job of your dreams.

I KNOWWW LITERALLY! its so fucking annoying as well bc up until this app every time there was a gender selector i was able to select "prefer not to answer" or an equivalent. but this one was like uhh yeah theres a toggle for it but dont like, Use it. are you a man or a woman. like. literally both and neither. its such a bitch bc all my transitional stuff like im out as a ~trans man generally and my name is masc so i go with male but now i also know that being slotted as Male in a professional setting makes my 2s ass super dysphoric 🙄 literally lose/lose situation. what reason is there to Need to know. esp in this case that its a weed dispo in a blue state like girl what are u fucking doinnggggg. incredibly basic Liberal Moment: reading their long ass non discrimination policy and being forced to sign it like 3 times over abt veteran status and disability status (also always pick choose not to answer bc FUCK you) and then theyre like ok now u know that we dont discriminate on gender or queerness... are u a male or female. Be honest. Die

TYSM tho darling i hope you do too!!! <3333 its a pain rn as well cuz i got smth back on a horse job but they dont want to hire til next year and i realized that applying mid december is like the time places least want to hire yknow ._. but fingers CROSSED. for BOTH of us!!!!!