#she's so adhd coded guys

[mothnwizard]

hi gravity falls fandom!! /waves

made a lil' doodle with the adhd creature

[justa-sadjellyfish]

No but Ruth Fleming is so me because I’m also touch starved and in love with Stephanie Lauter

[glowingsand]

now that i've read the chapter instead of just absorbing it through leaks....gojo's death painted as underwhelming and unsatisfying makes a lot of sense. it was supposed to be that way. he died with regrets just like everyone else. he didn't die all alone, despite what he told megumi. he chased his dream and fell short. throughout the story, he couldn't seem to find the right balance between selfishness and selflessness, which is why he loses himself while fighting (he even admitted this in today's chapter). which is why megumi isn't a priority while he's fighting sukuna. that's kind of why he broke so easily - where he's been trying to strike a balance between those two labels, his opponents have mostly embraced selfishness and become all the more definite in their identities. gojo never gave himself an identity other than being "the strongest", but even he couldn't figure out what that meant - that's part of his tragedy. yeah he's the strongest, but does that mean for himself or for others? what he does know is that for the most part, he can't control what happens to him. so he kind of loses himself in that uncertainty sometimes and goes crazy. ppl sometimes ignore this and turn to the misconception that just because he has noble ideals, gojo must be a hero but he's not. his entire character is tragic and unsatisfied, and his death resembles that as well.

[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

[bruciemilf]

I know this is a DC blog but I NEED dad Logan. Get that murder teddy bear some kids ASAP.

Fancast + non canon Headcanons ahead.

BOBBY MY BELOVED / 16

“Sure everything in my life is terrible. But at LEAST I’m gay”

Makes pop culture references Logan doesn’t understand. “Logan threw the first brick at stonewall” “what are you SAYING” “he’s an ally”

Can, will, and has gaslight Logan into thinking he’s homophobic just for not letting Bobby do what he wants

Stole a beer from Logan once and they found him drunk crying at 3 am. He calls Logan to apologize about it. “I’m sO sorryyy. You know I love you??” “Go to bed” “noOoo” Logan is next to him.

Has a secret YouTube channel and everyone watches for Logan interactions specifically

Mabel Pines coded

KITTY… that’s his half pint your honor. / 17

Logan is terrified. Why are you such an easy kid. Why aren’t you rebelling? Why isn’t defiance bleeding on your fists?

Why aren’t you clawing and biting and snarling for your freedom? Why aren’t you being a kid? Who do I have to skin-

Daughters are not supposed to exist quietly.

I hc that Kitty’s family is extremely unsupportive of her being a mutant, — but they’re just traditional in general. Specifically she’s petrified of being around/existing along men.

Certified babysitter when Logan’s not around. She’s so big sister.

“guys!1!11!!!! mr. Logan said not to do that!1!1!1”

Logan BEGS her to be a shitty teenager for like 10 minutes. Be bratty!!! Tell him to fuck off! Throw a tantrum!!!! “But I’m not a kid.” “You’re MY kid.”

JUBILEEE daddy’s girl / 15

Problem Child TM

Plays Rock n Roll by Avril Lavigne at 4 am to piss Logan and her siblings off when they annoy her

Grounded all the time but if she fake cries Logan will shamefully relent.

Always puts Logan’s patience to the test because she anticipates him leaving/giving up on her

Foster child with issues. She spent half her life looking for people and the other half being abandoned by them. This won’t be any different.

Except Logan is very good at fighting destiny.

Your honor I don’t CARE Logan is made to be a girl dad!!!!

“On the spectrum. Not saying which one”

STRONG she/they energy

Most affectionate with Logan out of all the kiddos. Her love language is terrible pancake making (Logan eats them anyway) and cat cuddling.

ADHD icon

LAURA (murder baby) / 7

Brings dead birds/mice to her family members (affectionate)

Charles has the bright idea to enroll her in school with the kids. “It’s important for children to socialize with peers their own ages.” “Can’t socialize if they’re all DEAD.”

That meme of the little boy and his father with an arrow in his shoulder

Youngest child privilege

Steals Bobby’s phone and shoot’s hilariously off angle family vlogs. One of them includes her stealing Logan’s motorcycle while he runs after her

[toxycodone]

WHAT ARE YOUR DAISUKE HCS ??? GENERAL AND DATING ??? 🥺🥺🙏🙏

ship. daisuke jaurez (mouthwashing) x reader

content. general + sfw + fluff

an. ummm like and reblog and leave comments or I’ll shave Daisuke bald. also no weird babying Daisuke 💪🏽

General

This is pretty much confirmed he’s Asian + Latino but he’s definitely Japanese/Mexican to me. He’s so SoCal coded it’s absolutely ridiculous. I’m thinking like…he lived close to the border or is from San Francisco or LA and has a lot of family in SoCal.

As far as MBTI goes I’m saying he’s an ESFP/ENFP and as far as Zodiac goes I’m saying Gemini or Cancer.

In his formative years he had a “dank memes” phase. Like, middle/high school Daisuke was a total dork. He was a kid lucky enough to be diagnosed w adhd when he was younger so he was on meds and did EXCEPTIONAL in school. Lived off the praise of teachers. He was especially good at science and math. (Which is why his parents encouraged him to get a mechanic internship).

^adding to this he has adhd + depression (the depression is more of a byproduct of the ADHD tho) and he takes meds!! he probably takes stimmies so he’s personally really concerned about his heart health.

HE HAD AN UGLY DUCKLY PHASE. Glasses + braces king. And he was awkward asf. But he slowly grew into himself and his style. He still has insecurities though and doesn’t think he’s that attractive bc of it.

I don’t think he made it past community college or gen Ed courses though. (He has HELLA test anxiety and despite being smart he sucks hard at ACT/SAT). In college he felt really isolated and it was hard for him to get out there so. He kinda shut down.

To me he’s around 23-25 years old. Old enough to where the pressure to “do something with his life” and figure shit out is hitting hard. But also like, still at an age where you’re first figuring shit out. He’s really insecure about this. Not because he’s stupid or anything he just has NO idea what to do w his life and can’t figure it out.

He had/has a part-time gig at a local art store he absolutely adores. He’s an artist and participated in a lot of local competitions/collabs/etc. he’s made a lot of connections here and wants to be a full time artist BUT this is where his parents draw the line. He’s fought w his parents a few times about this but it ultimately boiled down to “we’re just concerned it won’t pay/etc.”

He begrudgingly accepts this bc he knows it’s bc his parents care so much about him and want him to be successful bc they think he’s a smart guy.

Loves, loves, loves traditions and holidays. He dresses up and decorates for them all. Gets way too excited about seasonal drinks and food specials too LOL.

This is kinda random but. Vaquero Daisuke. Idk what to do with this HC but I think he loves Western style and tried to do horse riding as a kid but his mom enrolled him in DRESSAGE as a kid and he was like THIS IS SO CRINGE.

still enjoys the rodeo though. If he could get back on a horse again he’d do barrel racing.

Grew up having to take his shoes off before going in the House so on the Tulpar he always leaves his shoes neatly by his door to feel some sort of normalcy 💔 (at home he usually kicks them off into a corner and it always annoys his mom)

He has a good relationship with his parents. They really, really try to understand their son and are really patient with him but they don’t want him to end up complacent (he probably has a cousin or two who are too spoiled and his parents HATE that.)

Specially close to his mom though. She spoils him bc that is her BABY and he’s such a sweetheart despite it all it’s hard for her not to (his dad is kinda similar too but is like. Trying to hold back.)

Thrifting god. (Canon from the devs btw.) It doesn’t matter that he has the money for new clothes, he has a passion for scoring unique finds. He’s also a frequent enjoyer of vintage markets and pop up shops. I also personally think he loves farmers markets.

Probably a furry (doesn’t suit up though) and definitely enjoys raves (ask him about his Kandi collection)

Also buys concert tickets for local venues in bulk (like he catches them on sale and like. For a month he’s going to a new venue every weekend for a show). He’s so proud of being into niche musicians.

an avid member of fashiontok. I really think he loves this and reads theories and shit. He has a pretty good following on his fashion/life account. But he really cares the most about his meme account (brainrot enjoyer)

He gets tattoos/piercings instead of therapy (has a belly button ring he adores btw and very much cares about his ear setup. He is still planning it meticulously)

There is 100% a cringy tattoo somewhere dumb he got either drunk or on a bet. Ima headcanoning he has a tattoo of a bee on his knee (genuinely thinks this is a fire tat btw)

Y2K BADDIE. His style inspo is so “male lead and or comic relief in a 2000s romcom”. He’s so nostalgic for the 90s too (he gives me gen Z who clings so hard to being a 90s kid but was like. Born in 1999/1998 LOL)

Brown eyeliner enjoyer. He looks gorgeous.

Has a pinup poster of some girl in his room but it’s mainly just for the aesthetic (again. trying to be like dudes from the 90s/00s movies/TV shows).

Romantic

Okay. This may be against the grain idk but I don’t think he falls first. He just really really wants to be your friend and then it hits him that he has a crush and is like. Oh.

I think he’s a total dork. He’s not 100% inexperienced or whatever and he’s an attractive guy!! But like. His rizz is 0. He’s not the type to like smirk and be sexy he’s just a dork and tells jokes and is a total sweetheart.

Crushing Daisuke is like. Insane. He actually is kinda okay at hiding it but he SO easily gets embarrassed while trying to showcase how cool and confident he is. Like. He won’t try insanely hard before he’s breaking down in laughter BUT. YEAH.

He finds himself trying to learn guitar to impress you or get a new piercing or tattoo bc maybe you’ll think it’s cool then he’s like “oh I’m cooked.” (Verbatim)

Calls you dude/bro/etc regardless of your gender or relationship status. You will be married and he’s like “hey dude”. 💀

He also likes calling you bae/babe (EWWWW *twirls my hair*) and POOKIE LMFAOOOO. calls you baefy too esp if it annoys you.

It’s his earnest attitude that is the hottest thing about him though. His attraction to you is so genuine. When he says he loves you, he means it. ITS SO…YEAH. There’s no doubt about it and the LOOK IN HIS EYES…MY GOOOOOD HES IN LOOOOVE. You are the best thing to him.

It’s really important to him you have a close relationship with his parents. Like, don’t worry it’s not difficult. They may be a little ehhhh at first (I don’t think Daisuke’s judgement is 100% great w romantic partners) but once they see you two interacting it CLICKS. You become a part of the family. You’re always invited to bday parties and dinners and cookouts and everything (his mom is so cool and you guys mix drinks together and his dad has a green egg or blacktop he’s so proud of and teaches you how to use it)

Sends you tiktoks as a means of affection. Like. Your notifs are clogged and it’s because he just has so much to show you (THERES SO MANY ROMANCE ONES MAN then it’ll be like the most brainrot shit you’ve ever seen)

PHYSICAL AFFECTION IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE OH MY GOD.

Literallt he’s to kiss you every time he sees you or he’s gonna go crazy. He’ll pepper your face in kisses. He can’t resist you’re just SOOOO cute he loves you.

He holds you like a teddy bear when you guys cuddle. If you have your head on his chest you can hear his heart just SLAMMING against his chest and he tries so hard to play it cool but he’s just too full of love.

But he also loves resting on your chest or thighs. Bro falls asleep on you a LOT.

He plays with your hands and fingers. I like to think he does this when you speak to him and then he starts wondering what your index finger would look like with a pretty engagement ring and fantasizes about proposing and a wedding and then you say something and he snaps back into reality.

Passes the orange test or whatever the fuck that is his parents always cut fruit for him so he does the same to you. Will just cut up and apple and be like “hey do you want some?”

I think what he appreciates the most in return from you is verbal praise/reaffirmation. He trusts you so much to be honest with him and values your opinions a lot SO. When you tell him you like him and that he’s handsome and stuff he can let out a sigh of relief bc he actually believes you. You help build up his self confidence. ❤️

@mochiiniko (tagging bc I answered ur ask!)

[pumpkinbxtch]

.・゜✭・. the code for “i like you”

— leo valdez x daughter of athena!reader

Summary: Leo likes you so much that when he has the dream opportunity to get close to you, he expresses his feelings to you, in Morse code, accidentally.

Warnings: swear words?? yeah, but like three.

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if it's bad.

A/N: I had so much fun doing this, i relived primary school when i used morse code to make love letters, ew. Btw enjoy.

Leo was terribly attracted to you and you, as expected, went completely oblivious about it. The boy had practically tried everything possible to get close to you; He tried to participate in the same practices as you, walking where you were or talking to those you were friends with, but he just couldn't get it.

The only thing that play in his favor was that they were both leaders of their respective cabins. So when you talked about the planes your cabin had to increase camp security during one of your regular meetings Leo immediately pulled out a favor and volunteered to help (although the guy had no choice anyway, literally his cabin was the only one that could make it)

Chiron didn't object and ended up emphasizing that the two of you would mainly have to work side by side, while he winked at the son of Hephaestus, and Leo wondered if his intentions were really that obvious. Whatever, he was happy.

— That's great, have fun, idiots — Clarisse said in a mocking tone. She patted you on the back and winked.

» Does everyone have eye problems today? « You wondered, but didn't give it much thought. You looked at Leo, and he smiled exaggeratedly at you.

You hadn't paid much attention to the guy, but of course you had him in located: he was a trouble-maker, talented, with very nice hair, in addition, - and gods forbid that anyone else should know - his jokes did seem funny to you as difference from the opinion of others. But you didn't give him many detours and smiled kindly, hiding your desire to giggle.

— See you in a bit, Valdez. I'll go get the plans. —  and you left his sight again, leaving him alone in The Big House. Leo would have preferred to accompany you, but he believed that he had already spent his good luck bonus for the day, so he decided not to press. Chiron put a hand on his shoulder and sighed dreamily.

— The sweet and bitter pain of love — The centaur patted his shoulder a few more times and trotted into the house.

An hour later, Leo had tried to make bunker 9 as presentable as possible for your arrival. But the accumulated junk of several weeks was difficult to hide under a rug, so he just arranged it so that it would not get in the way and cleaned it the tables. In the name of Hephaestus, he was a nervous wreck.

By the time you crossed the door, he wanted to bury himself along with the scrap metal under his work table.

On the other hand, for you, it was impressive. Of course, you were not unfamiliar with the bunker, but looking closely at all of Leo's projects that he had in progress stimulated your brain in the same way that the largest candy store would do for third year old. You forced to keep your mouth closed and walked with the papers towards Leo, who was sitting on the other side of the huge blueprint table.

He looked apparently uncomfortable, and you did not blame him, you assumed that entering the workshop of a son of Hephaestus where his most precious creations are kept was the equivalent of grabbing Clarisse's favorite weapon to play badminton. You preferred to get to the point by spreading out the plans and go straight to the explanation of them.

Everything was fine, until after a while, Leo began to make anxious movements that did nothing but spread the feeling towards you. At first the knocking on the table while you were telling him the plans seemed meaningless to you, until you managed to distinguish a certain rhythm in them, then a hidden meaning. Your mind split in two, and you continued listening carefully while you continued explaining. How? ADHD.

Two knocks in a row, a silence, a tap and a long tap… Was that Morse code?

(.. / .-.. .. -.- /) I like…

You finally figured it out.

(.. / .-.. .. -.-/) I like…

He repeated. It was definitely Morse code.

But what did he like? Your plans?

That last thought made you falter in the conversation, and you stuttered, Leo placed his brown eyes on you attentively and touched the code again.

(.. / .-.. .. -.-/) I like (-.-- --- ..-) You

You blinked dumbfounded as you bumbled and tried to put your sentence together to return to the conversation about the security system without much success, Leo frowned softly probably wondering if you had gone crazy already. But that didn't matter because at the same moment his knuckles collided again against the wooden table making you lose total concentration.

(.. / .-.. .. -.- . / -.-- --- ..-) I like you

You were probably wondering if he was doing it on purpose or consciously, but the answer was no, Leo was a total idiot watching you explain plans and strategies. For him, it was easily like being in paradise, but his emotion tended to show itself involuntarily, and in this case, his knuckles began to encode messages that his brain spun while you continued babbling.

It was only when you stopped talking and gave him a big look of confusion that he stopped.

His blood ran cold. What had he done wrong?

—Leo? — you asked incredulously with narrowed eyes.

—Yes?—  He mumbled nervously and then laughed. Leo cursed his anxious reflexes. — I'm listening, it's just a lot, and it's hard for me, you know what attention deficit is like.— He let out another laugh and his cheeks began to burn. He was just saying stupid things. 

You shook your head and sat down.

—I know Morse code too, you know? We use it a lot in combat.

Leo's blood ran cold for the second time, and he thought he would burst into flames at the same time, inconsistent but possible.

— I don't think so.

And he gave himself a mental slap. Not only had he just told the girl he liked that Leo didn't think she knew Morse code, but to a daughter of Athena. ATHENA. Leo forced himself to deliver another slap.

But the question was now what the fuck had he said in Morse code? Then he heard you clinking the cap of a pen against the table.

(.. / .-.. .. -.- . / -.-- --- ..-) I like you

Shit.

—Wasn't that Morse code? You've been playing it since we were going through the forest plane.

The son of Hephaestus jumped from his chair and stiffened, beginning to babble.

— Me, no, it's just that sometimes I, no, my mom-

—Just tell me if it was true or not.

— YEAH! — Leo pressed his eyes and covered himself with his hands, seconds later a small flame caught fire above his head.

You didn't want to show your shock or how much your heart had raced, but you also got up from your chair and walked towards him. Leo was still in the same position, which almost made you laugh, but you preferred to direct your attention to the flame that was flickering in his hair. You raised your hand over him and tried to pat it out, trying not to get tangled in his curls. By the time you extinguished the flame, he was looking at you like you had just kicked his bronze dragon.

His eyes had widened in a way that you considered unnatural, this time you did let out the laugh. You cleared your throat and took a step back.

— An original way of expressing it, I have to admit — you said still with a playful look.

The boy blushed more, if that was possible.

— Sorry, I didn't want to bother you…

You frowned and shook your head.

— No, no, what I mean is… — You cleared your throat. Now you were nervous, your words would become more clumsy, so you picked up the pen cap again to knock it on the table:

.- ... -.- / -- . / ..-. --- .-. / .- / -.. .- - . (Ask me for a date)

Leo went over each tap and looked at you surprised.

You raised your hand asking for time and played one last word.

..-. --- --- .-.. (Fool)

And you smiled, satisfied that you had done it quickly, but even more so that the boy you had suggested going out with you had encoded the message in record time. How you liked smart boys!

Leo leaned towards you with a self-righteous smile, clearly feeling victorious. Yes, there was also the troublemaker, in total, he was a kind of mad genius.

—So, ma'am, would you go out with me?

— I'll see — You said as you picked up your plans. His smile faded and he began to stammer buts. — See you at dinner, Leo.

You smiled and made your way out of the bunker. Clearly, you would accept, but you would let Leo try a little harder.

[theguyinthemathexamples]

Silly idea me and my friend had with sagau, sahsrau and possibly sawuwaau(??)

But like, what if, due to your consciousness essentially merging/being connected to the MC more, sometimes stuff gets a lil funky and you start seeing things you shouldn't

Like yk, ghosts 😇🙏

I recommend strapping in because these are gonna be three flash fictions into one + having lots of talking lol

(more utc‼️)

For example, in a fic style:

"Hey, are you gonna eat your food, Traveler?" Paimon asked, looking worriedly at the distracted visage of her friend. "Something on your mind? You can always tell Paimon what's on your mind!"

They shook their head, eyes looking at the person who stared at them and their companion. Eyes unblinking, appearance overall disheveled and aged.

"That guy's been staring at us the whole time we've been eating," they replied, eyes switching over to Paimon in a barely contained distressed fashion. "It's almost worrying me."

"What guy?"

Paimon silently asked again, "What?" when her friend looked at her so incredulously.

"You don't see him?" they asked again, now worried beyond belief. The last time Paimon saw them like this was when they fought Arlecchino.

"Traveler, I think that's a ghost we're both seeing," the voice inside his mind pointed out, trying to calm their mental state. Right, they forgot the Creator was a part of their mind now.

And as the voice just predicted, one blink and that figure was gone, the Traveler seeing its shadow scurry into a corner of the restaurant.

The door chime rang out and in a cyan and a blue haired boy entered the restaurant, another blue haired girl following right after. Right, Chongyun, Xingqiu and Xiangling.

The ghost must've scurried off when it sensed Chongyun nearby. Well, at least that put an end to their distress.

——————

LIKE THE AMOUNT OF DISTRESS WHEN THE MCS SEE A GHOST FOR THE FIRST TIME

it'd be so chaotic, especially hsr's mcs bc good god they're already so adhd coded

You could think of them going through it like:

"Woah woah, what's got you all terrified, Trailblazer?" March 7th asked, a worried Dan Heng embracing them when they accidentally bumped into him trying to run away from something.

The Astral Express were quickly informed by them personally that they've been seeing ghosts and all sorts of spiritual apparitions that don't normally appear physically like heliobi, but seemingly living people that were doing normal things or otherwise.

It all started around the time they also figured out that the Creation's consciousness had somehow taken an interest in the Trailblazer, latching onto their body and making the Stellaron inside them a bit restless, unstable.

"It's... I saw Cocolia at the Administrative District," they said, panting from exhaustion. The story sounded so unreal, with how impossible it sounded, but with how broad the Creation works nothing was truly impossible.

"She was looking at Bronya shopping and talking to the people, always un-staring." March patted their back in assurance, joining Dan Heng in sitting them down onto the red couches in the Parlour Car.

"When I came closer to see if she was real, she whipped her head around so fast with the scariest look on her face!—"

"It's okay, Caelus Stelle Trailblazer, she can't reach you here," the choir of voices erupted in their mind, the chirping of birds and clinking machinery in their tone momentarily calming them down by a substantial amount.

"Well, it's a good thing ghosts can't get into the Express because that means she can't hurt you here!" March exclaimed, Dan Heng having to resist rolling his eyes at the obvious but letting her reassure them nonetheless. Dumb, dumber and dumbest— the trio wouldn't be complete with one of them missing.

Then, the cabin's speakers erupted in an all too familiar voice. "Attention, all Astral Express crew members! Dinner is ready, so please hurry over to the kitchen cabin and join me and Welt to eat here!" The Astral Express's Conductor excitedly exclaimed over the mic, never failing to make the three smile from their infectious enthusiasm.

"Well, we were supposed to find you and Himeko for dinner but it looks like Pom Pom beat us to it again," March said, jumping up from her seat with her hands on her hips.

"Last one to reach the kitchen cabin is a rotten egg!"

"Hey, no fair, you got a head start!"

Dan Heng sighed at the two's shenanigans yet again, slowly getting up from his own seat as the two raced over to the cabin. That Aeon truly knew how to control and manipulate the emotions of a being to THEIR liking, and he even felt it wash over him earlier.

He'll need to observe it more before adding another entry into THEIR dedicated part of the Archives.

———————

This one was a little confusing to make into a scenario but it's what my eepy mind came up with on the spot :p

Now for our dearest Rover, it's a bit difficult to make it make sense, yk? Mostly because Tacet Discords shapeshifting into people is canon (if people actually paid attention to the lore), much less actually fitting the lore of this seemingly interplanetary eldritch being into the world of Wuthering Waves in the first place lmao

Maybe we could be the galaxy eye we see in the first cutscene, as well as the one when Abby (the lil echo that appeared after the Dreamless fight) and Rover being together

But this is all me yapping about a whole other subject— related, but not the one we're diving into right now

Getting back into the subject though, this is how i think it'd go:

It was another bright, sunny day at Panhua's Restaurant, the scent of delicious food wafting through the air as always. Rover, Yangyang, Chixia and Jiyan all sat around a table, with Abby floating around all plump and full.

"Say, Rover, didn't you say you had something to say for us today?" Chixia inquired, stacking and overall making the empty dishes look cleaner and neater.

"Yeah, just a strange sighting I saw near Desorock Highlands," they replied, putting a deft hand on their chin as if to think back on the memory.

"Me, Jiyan and The Black Sun were conversing like usual when we came across groups of people near the Tacet Field where the Thundering Memphis usually dwelled," Rover recounted, unconsciously pulling the leash that was attached to Abby's collar closer. "Some were laughing with eachother, acting as if most groups weren't crying out in agony."

"Aren't those just Tacet Discords that have absorbed lots of human frequencies?"

"No, there was something more... alive to them, besides the fact that the General himself couldn't see them," they replied to Yangyang, letting the leash go as Abby went back in their Tacet Mark with one last burp.

"Even when I went closer to them, they didn't attack me, more or less ignoring me entirely."

"Wait, who's this 'The Black Sun' you're talking about Rover? Is there another echo inside of you?" Chixia jumped up to ask, startling both Jiyan and Rover.

"The Black Sun is what you may have seen when you first found Rover and ventured back to Jinzhou, just as I did so as well," the General explained, waving over to Rover's direction in an attempt to explain this name to both ladies. Yangyang nodded and Chixia let out an "Oh," in understanding.

"I will admit, seeing them not react to us at all looked a lil' unnerving," the voice inside their mind stated in a breathy voice, unclear like a cloud of smoke.

Though the voice had no body and claimed that they weren't an echo like Abby, only really being able to be heard clearly when they're dreaming, it often provided support whenever it could— unlike a certain someone.

"I've already sent the proper human resources over to investigate the matter, the only thing left to do is to wait for results," Jiyan said, already standing up when he saw the bill arriving.

The three simply nodded in thanks to the General, knowing full well he'd insist on it till his last breath. And when he came back to the table the subject had already changed into another, more or less silly one.

Well, at least everyone was enjoying themselves.

———————

I didn't have much for the last part like i said, and it's more filled with dialogue, but it's better than nothing

Please do tell me if I missed anything or said something totally wrong!!

Now, is this an excuse to push my sahsrau fic more? ... mmmmaayyybbeee 😇

[permetutotheworld]

hi my name is Persephone, but you can call me Seph/Sephy/Nyx , I use they/xe pronouns, I’m an asexual lesbian, I’m autistic+adhd,

and I’m a minor (please don’t be creepy I’ve already had two people message me being weird and sexual)

I write a lot of poetry and I’m writing a book at the moment based off of the idea of multiple universes existing at a time, I sing and I love performing, specifically musical theatre

I ALSO TAKE REQUESTS!! I write poetry mostly for them but microfics tooo, for good omens, the marauders, percy jackson, les mis and any TJ Klune books that ive read, just pop a prompt into my inbox and ill do my best to get jt to you as fast as i can <3

my fandoms are : Les Mis, good omens, pjo, marauders, hunger games, aru shah, marvel, doctor who

my favourite music: queen, Maisie peters, the last dinner party, the crane wives, Taylor Swift, Florence and the machine, rene Rapp, Chappell roan, David Bowie, blondie, boygenius, most musicals

favourite books: house in the cerulean sea, under the whispering door, in the lives of puppets (all by TJ Klune)

my tags:

Nyx yaps: my silly little commentary on anything that happens to me

nyx vents: my life low-key sucks quite a lot at time so I vent a bit but I make sure to trigger warning everything triggering

nyx writes: I write silly little poems and stories that I post sometimes

nyx’s moots 🫶🫶: for my lovely moots

Nyx loves their gf: thats right guys i love my gf so mich and i talk about her a lot

perpendicular universe: posts about my fantasy novel im working onnn

Please dni if you’re queerphobic or discriminate against minorities in general, if you support trump or other dickwads like him or if you’re just going to be mean

also I do struggle a lot with mental health so I probably will randomly disappear or vent but I’ll make sure to trigger warning everything

my writing blogg: @persephone-writes-silly-stuff below the cut: my rp blogs, my moots and my fics

My rp blogs:

@nico-sees-dead-people @prongsie-rambles @regulus-the-star @pandora-opens-the-box @sunshine-boy-official

@enjolsaurus-rex @sunshine-prongsie-boy @panda-reads-your-death @lily-petals-falling @stars-andpoems

if you like my blog you should check out my amazing mutuals whom I love and adore:

@xenocollector LES MIS RAAA

@sauntering-vaguelydownward literally so sweet ilysm/platonically

@marylily-my-beloved love you Fatimah omg

@aidens-ocean-galaxy very purple coded person and very cool also so genuinely lovely we live laugh love Juno in this household

@theoristswan5683 literally so nice omg they have the loveliest vibes 😭

@ashstillalive Amazing writer amazing person will happily beta read for you anytime

@mae-occasionally-reads so sweet so lovely so cool so glad we’re mutuals love you so much/platonic vibes only MY BEST FRIEND ILYYYSMMM/pl <3333

@definitionoffuckup AL very cool individual

@rafaelthesilly I KNOW YOU IN REAL LIFE POOKIE YOURE THE BEST LESBIAN BUDDIE MY AMAZING SPOUSE ILYSM (platonically)

@inezrable I have more octopus facts for you!!!!!!!

@garden-of-runar the coolest person alive still can’t believe you followed me back althought yoir spice tolerance js weird as shit/lh and paprika is not spicy

@ravenwordss literally so sweet love you/pl

@pyromaniacbibliophile my spouse bc we are married

@cossie-fauchelevant the one and only cosette to my enjolras <3

@delinda24601 SHES SO COOL MY IRL BUS BESTIE LOVE HER TO BITS I FOUNDED HER FAN CLUB SHES SO SUPER COOL GUYS 🩷🩷🩷🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

@im-on-crack-send-help RIYANAAA SO SUPER COOL ILYSM

@startswithahell - cant wait for those unhinged asks omgomg

@biggestqiblifan - I LOVE YOU SM/pl

@the-eclipse-is-in-me - one of my favouritest people on this hellsite

@circe-butbetter - JANA!!! So incredibly cool and iconic

[winryrockbellwannabe]

| n e w i n t r o p o s t | (since im in my masters now)

🎀about me:

☆ AJ (she/her) & 20yo ☆ Master's student of Biomedical Engineering - Medical Instrumentation ☆ adhd @aj-is-talking-again is my fandom side-blog. (it looks like it's mostly haikyuu, but honestly anything)

✨interests and hobbies

☆ academically: maths, eletronics (i know i'm bad at it, idc), mechanics, quantum physics, coding ☆ hobbies: reading, watching anime and cartoons, playing piano, having existencial crisis

Also, this year I'll finally become organized so

📍some tags i use:

#aj rambles - for stuff that's not related to study #2.3 - my last semester posts if anyone is curious #1.4 - this semester posts #beloved moots - you guys would never guess it but it's when i interact with my mutuals lol (i tried to have specific tags for some moots i interact with more often, but i forgot most of it)

📚 academic goals for this year

☆ survive my master's degree lol ☆ have at least a 15/20 average grade ☆ getting more disciplined and organized about studying

[masquayla-the-splendid]

GUYS do you remember THIS post???

Well. Do I have a story for you.

When I was a wee young lass, I was on the Pony side of doll enjoyers. This was like 2008, so it was G3. I had several DVDs of the cartoon, but I had one of a live performance called "The World's Biggest Tea Party." It's exactly what you expect.

One day, I decide to go through all of my DVDs and re watch some that I haven't in a while, this being one of them. It's barely reaching feature film length, but the pacing makes it feel like it's well over an hour.

But I'm not here to critique an Mlp musical meant for 5 year olds, I'm here to show you where part of my Sister Location synesthesia probably comes from.

LOOK.

It was hard to find exact visual parallels, because like I said in the linked post, pink light is used when the Funtimes are preforming, which you see very little of in-game.

There were even similar plot concepts!!! Don't be alarmed, it's not what you think!!!

The movie is available for free on YouTube, but I'll summarize it since the dragging was stronger than my nostalgia goggles.

Pinkie Pie wants to plan an event with her friends where they "have the most fun in one day." So the whole movie is them preparing for a tea party that happens at their friend's house outside of PonyVille. Subplot with Spike trying to find a "how-to" book and the Ladybugs trolling him. Pinkie was so focused on making sure her friends didn't forget their responsibilities, that by the time they got there, she realized she forgot the tea. She feels super bad, but some encouragement from Minty and the screaming child audience summons an oversize teapot. Happy ending.

Text-to-text comparisons I drew:

Main character is a shade of red, and likes parties.

"The most fun in one day"

Main character being overly aware of what everyone else is doing. Super attentive, or if exaggerated, you could call it being bossy.

Main character has a big oopsie.

One of the ponies who is SO adhd coded keeps subconsciously putting off preparing her decorations. She "just wants to have fun." (Character does a thing, doesn't know why, only wants fun.)

Giant kitchen utensil.

The Ladybugs and Minireenas. They share similar design features, and pester a character associated with the color purple.

Those three fairy ponies? Bidybabs. Ones of em's even yellow, it can be Electrobab.

"Bounce Back-Ability"/Adapting from the oopsie.

The aforementioned synesthesia was all visual. I hardly remembered anything of the plot until I watched it recently. I wanna say the last time I put that DVD in, I was like 6. So like the synesthesia was coming from a near 14 year old memory. That's nuts.

[yuenthevoices]

Okay so I haven't seen Transformers One yet (just had midterms) but honestly from the bits i've seen of it - from movie clips on tiktok to some of the hilarious promo stuff they have Bee do - i'm ABSOLUTELY in love with it. some of my favorite stuff i've seen are the little, more niche details i don't see enough of that really show how much care has actually been put into the movie. don't worry, no spoilers for the actual movie - mostly about official promo clips and such.

for example, i saw a bit of an interview where it's said the animation team all grew up with transformers, and were even fighting to animate their favs. there was also another interview i saw where someone - i believe a story boarder/director - seemed genuinely pretty sad that they couldn't do the Megatron gladiator and Orion Pax archivist backstories because it would make the movie too long. like, there is just so much genuine love for the franchise that makes the movie so good and so interesting its crazy like ahduaogeuaisahe

alright alright so enough of my rant i know some of y'all are here for the x reader stuff soooo here's some TF One headcanons! also do keep in mind that this is from my very limited knowledge of the movie characters so prob oc? if they were to somehow meet humans

B-127 (Badassatron)

first off, he's such a silly guy and so adhd coded

but honestly, as a human, be just a bit careful around him, seeing as he accidentally knife-handed quite a few people, and some on purpose

he'd either be as clumsy as he is with his friends that he built, or would literally be too scared to get within touching distance of a human

if you want to get closer to him, honestly just listen to him - with some small input here and there to show you're listening - and he'd want to hang around you a lot more

really, just be nice, don't baby him, and let him yap as much as he wants - bonus points if you sometimes yap to him as well, i'm sure he'd be a great listening, with a lot of input from him, of course

Elita One

honestly, i wish i knew or could tell more about her, but any clips or trailers i've seen her in are pretty limited glimpses into her character

the trait i see the most from these glimpses however, is how she's ambitious and diligent

she'd probably respect you a great deal if you're as ambitious and diligent as she is, and would probably be a bit proud if you compliment her work ethic as well

i think she'd like someone who matches her, aiming for higher goals with the work and strength to prove it - especially since you're a human

bonus points if you can kick ass as well

D-16

similar case to Elita, except i think i have a bit more to go off of, considering how much he shows up in promo trailers and stuff

honestly, kinda hard for me to say?

again, i think he'd appreciate someone similar to him, considering how much time he spends with orion, it'd be a nice change of pace

someone who won't take bs, maybe a teeny bit of malicious compliance, and someone who doesn't try to hide their opinions

considering how mush shit miners seem to take from those who can transform, seeing someone else - especially some smaller, squisher being - being proactive and not taking shit, he'd probably be interested

Orion Pax

ok so only doing orion pax and not optimus prime because in total i've only seen like 3 clips of him as optimus soooo yea

i could see him with a jokester kind of person, but also with a more calm caretaker kind of person as well

being a jokester with him would be fun, and he'd probably have no problem with carrying you around to places for plans

being a calm caretaker would possibly be a little more stressful, but still fun with him nonetheless

either way, he'd still be somewhat careful, keeping in mind that he is much larger and sturdier than humans are

just don't play dead on him please, he'd genuinely freak out and run you over to D-16 and ask him what's wrong (D-16 probably won't find it nearly as funny lol)

[aroaceleovaldez]

random question but i came across a post of yours where you talked about how mark oshiro sort of erased an aspect of nico's ADHD by making a joke about how he only liked mythomagic cards because he's gay and there are hot guys on the cards, and then TSATS also seemed to really downplay the themes of neurodivergence in the series. and it made me wonder if you have any thoughts on how the show has portrayed the demigods' ADHD and dyslexia so far? i've seen some people say that the show also downplayed it a lot, and i'm inclined to agree... which feels really weird considering that rick's own son's neurodivergence was specifically a major inspiration for him writing the series. but if i recall correctly a lot of scenes showcasing that in the first book were taken out of the show.

Oh absolutely, a lot of scenes and general discussion about adhd/dyslexia were removed in the show (and some of the disability-coding in general - i appreciate the change they made with making Chiron disabled based on his mythos rather than just using a wheelchair as a disguise, but i wish they had kept Grover's crutches in a similar manner honestly) - I've made a couple of posts discussing it: here, here, and this reblog is relevant to my opinions about the matter. There's probably some other stuff in my pjo tv crit tag.

I think the main sentiment i have regarding it - which i've seen a couple of other people mention as well - is how much the show ignores or outright removes and downplays Percy's personal struggles with his disabilities to instead emphasize Sally's experiences instead, particularly in manners of her taking out her stress on Percy - which alongside being completely antithetical to Sally's role in the books, is pretty ableist and why I continually compare show!Sally to Autism Speaks Parents. Autism Speaks tends to make an emphasis on the struggles of the parents of autistic children rather than treating autistic individuals like a person experiencing their own struggles. One of the major points of Sally's character (and later Paul) in the books is that she's an incredibly accommodating parent and works hard to make sure Percy is supported when he's struggling with his disabilities, because he's not been able to find that accommodation elsewhere. That's part of why Sally is such a great mom in particular, and is intentionally supposed to directly contrast Annabeth's home life struggles with her parents having difficulty navigating how to provide that same level of accommodation to help support her (and how Annabeth finds that accommodation at CHB instead, because that's the metaphor that CHB is supposed to represent - an appropriately accommodating system they can rely on, and then exploring how that's still a flawed system and looking at how disabled kids/demigods fall through the cracks and how to change the system to better support them).

The show also almost completely ignores Percy's ADHD/dyslexia experiences in general after the first episode. I was honestly really happy with, in the first episode, how clearly Percy's poor experiences in the American education system, particularly relating to his neurodivergence, have informed his reaction to situations such as people trying to tell him he's a demigod in coded language. It was essentially the perfect update to something i've discussed in the past here, about how the original "all demigods have adhd/dyslexia because it's secretly SUPERPOWERS" thing was presented as the basis for the series and why that teaching/parenting style fell out of favor. We see Percy in e1 acknowledge how dismissive of his struggles it is to constantly just be told he's "special" - and we even get explicit acknowledgement of how that description is used aggressively and for ostracization (from Nancy), which is extremely true to the experiences of kids who grew up with that teaching/parenting structure. But then we get to episode 2 and... all the acknowledgement of ADHD/dyslexia/etc is gone. We get at most a one-off acknowledgement from Luke that demigods are all neurodivergent and that's it. Pretty much nothing else for the entire rest of the season, save for flashback scenes that only emphasize Sally's experiences, not acknowledge Percy's. No further acknowledgement of Percy's dyslexia, or Annabeth's, or anything about their ADHD, or even Percy's completely removed PTSD (which we know for sure because of both writer commentary [see: that second post i linked about the LA Times article] and Percy's total lack of reaction to Mr. D). Nothing.

It was extremely disheartening to say the least, having such a strong start and it evaporating completely, and I fully agree with you.

[jojilovesninjas]

My Ninjago head-canons

Zane: Autistic and pansexual

Pixel:Autistic, Agender and they’re also pansexual.

Kai: Bisexual

Cole: Gay and Asexual (yes you can be both for those who don’t know) he also has depression based off theories I heard.

Jay: I don’t know really sometimes I write him as a transfem bisexual in my fanfics because I just think it suits Jay for some reason, And I’ve also heard theories that Jay also has autism or ADHD.

Lloyd: He is the token straight guy and I will not explain why, He’s also a scalie (A reptile version of a furry) cause with that whole being part dragon.

Skylor: she’s a lesbian

Nya: questioning

Geo: Gay and Bi-racial coded and maybe a trans man cause why not (the second one isn’t really a head-canon it’s canon but no one brings it up so I’m going to say it Geo is Bi-racial)

Bonzle: her backstory is 100% a trans allegory and I’m not the only one that believes that.

[snowflakesincalifornia]

I couldn’t reblog the og post bc ig Tumblr’s ruined the code, so this is a copy of it. Please give credit to the og posters.

milf-percy

It dosen't really matter that Percy isn't hurt by Annabeth insulting him all the time and sometimes even being physically violent to him(he should be because that's a realistic response from an abuse and bullying survivor but i digress),not just because he's a fictional character and not a real person with free will,but also because that's Annabeth's way of showing she fucking hates him.Her treatment of him has literally not changed since they were 12 yet nobody in this dumbass fandom can shut up about how ~developed~ their relathionship is cause they make out now and are planning on having a dysfunctional cishet marriage while trashing the characters of color for being 'annoying'.

Percy and Annabeth are not 'made for eachother' because Rick wrote everyone in-universe as telling them that and i'd like to remind y'all that this is the same guy who wrote Luke,an adult serial abuser and ped0phile,as a 'hero' because of the Great Prophecy.Destiny means jack shit and Annabeth and Percy-ESPECIALLY Percy,who's been doomed to trauma over and over again despite his best efforts to escape it-should've been allowed to choose who to love instead of having it shoved down their throats by both everyone in their franchise and the creepy weirdos in the fandom too

@southasianpercy

chaoticcerise

Hi! As someone with ADHD who's been in several abusive relationships before, I figured I'd add something about why it IS actually realistic that he doesn't appear hurt, but that's actually even more alarming. So it starts with meeting them (obviously) and especially if they don't really have any healthy romantic IRL relationships to compare it to (which the books go out of their way to emphasize that this is the case) then it can be really hard to notice when red flags like that start to come up. "Oh it'll get better!" "They're still adjusting to it!" All of which are valid! There's healthy relationships that start rough and there's relationships that start really well and then something happens that doesn't go super well and it turns bad real quick. I've been in a few of both. The problem comes when it still happens after they're asked to stop, which is what happens in Percy Jackson. This can lead to things like "Oh they're just kidding, surely they don't mean it!" "Oh that's just how they flirt/show they love me!" Which, again, is fine IF IT'S WELCOME. However if it's not then eventually it's "Oh they're just like that." "Oh it's fine I guess, it's not like I can stop it." Just because someone doesn't complain doesn't mean that they're consenting. It means they're resigned to the abuse. And that means that he's internalizing and normalizing it. "We don't hear any real negativity towards Annabeth in Percy's thoughts though!!!" Well no but we don't hear any love either. We don't ever hear any thoughts about her really ever. Nothing about how pretty she is or how cool she is or anything. Percy Jackson has thoughts about EVERYONE. As someone with ADHD, this level of no thoughts is concerning and no basis for a relationship. He deserves someone who will treat him well. She deserves someone who thinks about her fondly. Both of them deserve better but they both need to undergo some character development and serious therapy first.

[malcolm-reeds-pineapple]

Being the only diagnosed and medicated member of your intensely ADHD/autism family is so fucking funny cuz it’s like

Me: hey guys what’s up?

My mom, who has been cooking lunch for three hours because she keeps forgetting that she is cooking supper because she is still hyper focused on the craft she was making before she started cooking and keeps going between the craft room and the stove, she is blasting a Facebook livestream about crafts: HELLO!!!!!! I was just researching [xyz] and i learned… wait, your glasses are filthy let me just… [takes my glasses off my face and cleans them] anyway I need your help I’m stuck on my craft [drags me to the craft room, my eyes lingering on the fucking pot that’s boiling over. I will end up cooking lunch undoubtedly]

My 80 year old nanny who was given 4 years to live 8 years ago and is baffling the medical world by continuing to live, scrolling the obits in between Wordle guesses, adding names to her “outlived list”, she has an entirely rooster themed house and if she doesn’t have lunch at exactly 12:13pm her day will be thrown off entirely, but she didn’t have all this autism stuff back in her day: Maureen died, [mom’s name] do you remember Maureen Smith? She was the church secretary in 1973? She died, the funeral is on Wednesday.

My brother, who has been making feats of engineering in Minecraft for the last 6 hours, coming in from his daily wake and bake he does to self-medicate for “whatever’s wrong with him”, the same man who built his first PC entirely from YouTube tutorials at age 13: [Infordumps at me about Warhammer lore or Minecraft while I pick up where mom left off making lunch while the chaos unfolds]

My dead Grampy who was a civil engineer who collected hobbies and hoarded building supplies and Weird Shit like it was a full time job who also could not cook without dirtying every single dish in the house, haunting the house he built as a fucking side quest in 1993: [dirties a pot from the beyond somehow]

My dad, 4 hours away who started a business because he was so fucking bored after he retired who used to call me out of school if my grades were good so we could hang out and collect rocks at the beach: [texting] hey this is the red hot chilli peppers song I was talking about a month ago, also, here is a link to a video about space that I thought was really really cool that I want you to watch so you can also think it’s cool! Also just finished season 6 of Stargate, was hoping to call to discuss after work.

My step mom, 4 hours away: [knitting a the sweater The Dude in the Big Lobowski wears without a pattern at lightning speed because my dad mentioned, in passing, that he has a cool sweater this morning. It will be done by 3pm. She is also monitoring a dashboard she coded to link up her numerous excel spreadsheets that run an entire city on her iPad while she knits. She is avoiding making a phone call. She has invited me to join a social media platform exclusively for knitters to share projects and patterns. I do not knit but she is god to me so I join. She is an influencer on the platform]

Me: yeah don’t know what I expected