#this reminds me i need to work on like 2 things

[sahkuna]

LET'S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the end of your contract with GS Holding Corp. is coming to an end. well, your contract working for the company's founder and CEO, gojo satoru, as his personal assistant is ending since you no longer would work directly under him. but gojo will be damned if he lets that happen without trying to change your mind.

content warning(s): fem! + afab reader, plot-ish → eventual smut so 18+ mdni, risky workplace relationship, oral (m→f), unprotected, semi-public sėx, pining gojo satoru bc that's my fave to write

word count: 6.6K+ holay molay...

a/n: wanted to post this bc 1) its been a millineum since i last posted & a fulfilled req which comes from @doinqhemmings and 2) mentally rejecting that manga leak/ending -_-

“I’ll miss you.”

You stand in front of the photocopy machine unmoving. The soft buzz of ink etching itself onto paper is the only sound that floats through the air beside the voice of the persistent CEO you work under.��

Had you known that he would be following you around the building, bugging you as you tried to complete the tasks that he assigned you to complete on his behalf, you would’ve straight up told him to do it himself. 

You contribute much of your time and effort to this company, and you’re highly recognized for your work. …But you absolutely didn’t need the recognition to come in the form of being under constant surveillance from your boss.

Assuming you might’ve not heard him the first time when you don’t respond right away, he leans in closer and rests a comfortable arm on your tense shoulders. “I said, I’m gonna miss you—”

“I heard you the first time, Gojo.”

When the machine stops whirring indicating that it has finished the job, you don’t hesitate to snatch the sheets of paper from the printer and slap them onto Gojo Satoru’s chest, decked out in a baby blue button-up. All too soon, you’re sidestepping around him and heading out the door toward your office right down the hall.

“Hey!” he exclaims at your sudden early departure.

Hot on your tail, Gojo trails after you clutching the papers close to his chest. “Where are you going?” Gojo asks when you take an unexpected sharp left turn from the usual route to his secluded workroom. 

Despite your best efforts to leave him behind, his tall stature annoyingly reminds you that he can keep up with you just fine.

“Y’know,” your boss starts, catching your attention as you practically speed-stomp your way down the halls of his corporation, “Ijichi would never treat me like this!” 

You could practically hear the way he pouts from behind you. When you briefly glance back behind you to confirm your suspicions about what expression he could be wearing, you’re not surprised to see he’s throwing a wistful glance above your head. His soft, pink lips are downturned and tacked with his snow-white brows all bunched together, probably wishing you’d be more graceful with him.

Or take pity on him at the very least, you know?

You turn back around and continue your path toward your own office space. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming back next month then, huh?”

Pity denied.

Gojo swore he heard the wry smile in your voice as soon as you finished your sentence. You’re willfully teasing him and playing with his emotions. But that’s why he’ll miss you— none of his employees would dare talk to him or give him the same flack as you do.

When you step into your office, so does he. And Gojo, either painfully oblivious or simply choosing to ignore the blatant act of you purposefully and almost slamming the door shut in his face, swings it wide open and ambles toward your workstation, a smile creeping onto his lips.

“Extend your contract with me,” he starts, carelessly tossing the sheaf of paperwork onto your tidy desk once he’s within arms reach of it. He peeks at you over his shades and returns your unimpressed stare with an innocent smile. “I’ll raise your salary a reasonable amount once you do.”

While that did sound nice on paper, realistically speaking, dealing with Gojo’s antics for the foreseeable future was less than ideal for you. God forbid you start getting grey hairs at such an early age. Or a raised blood pressure. And besides…

“I still work under and for Utahime’s department though,” you say matter-of-factly, once you’ve crossed the space of your room to sit behind your desk. Your lips twist into a soft pout as you shuffle the scattered sheets together and place them into a neat pile.

Ah, right.

After Ijichi had filed for a paid sick leave after an unrelated work injury several months ago, you graciously covered your colleague’s position as the personal assistant to the founder and CEO of GS Holdings Corp., for the time being.

Pushing away the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head at the namedrop of his top leading director, Gojo deflates onto your desk.

Utahime has been on his case for the past few weeks to hurry up and file the paperwork so that you’d be back in her good graces as soon as your term with him expires. He’s been procrastinating on filing out mostly because he hates doing tedious work, the other half of him flat-out does not want to see you go so soon.

To say Gojo has thoroughly enjoyed you operating as his aide would be a huge understatement. 

Wherever Gojo was in his grand office building, it wouldn’t be unusual for your co-workers to spot you too far off. Outside of work is the same story, especially considering you’d be the one driving him home from work since Ijichi acted as both his assistant and driver. 

“Just switch to mine!” Gojo whines. He joins you at your desk and sits his ass right on the documents you had printed and stretches his limbs against the surface, nearly eating up all the space on your desk. He ignores your strained quips at him to get the hell off. 

“Utahime’ll be fine, let her find someone else. The job market’s already bad as is, so let another person take it and come be with me.” 

There’s a double meaning if you dig deep, and Gojo prays and hopes you’d take the time to digest what he really means. 

However, it seems like you’re not in the mood to be an excavator today.

Pushing his antics and sweet-talking to the side, you arch a questioning brow at him and lean back into your chair. There was nothing explicitly charged behind that reaction of yours but it shook Gojo to the core realization that his attraction to you was unnerving— though not unnerving enough to have him stay away from you.

“What about Ijichi? Where’s he gonna go if I stay?” Gojo visibly perks up at your usage of the word ‘if’, because in his mind he’s already imagined the situation to be quite likely. You see the way he sits a little taller, a little higher on your desk at the proposed question.

But alas, you dash his hopes by adding, “Which I won’t. But if I did, what then?”

“Then you guys can make it a two-person job!” he proclaims as if it were the most easy and obvious answer in the world. Gojo rests his feet on either side of your hips and the heels of his dress shoes press into the leather material of your rolling chair, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together due to the lack of room. “You know I need all the help I can get around here.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Gojo.”

With the wheels on your chair, your boss uses it as leverage to roll you impossibly closer to him than you already were, angling your face centimetres away from his lower torso. You will your eyes not drift down his body and toward his lap.

Lord knows the field trip the man would have with that if he were to catch you blatantly checking him out right before him. 

“Why’s it so hard to convince you to stay, huh?” he asks, knocking a soft knuckle against that stubborn head of yours. “Why? You don’t like me or something?”

Your heart stutters in your chest at his question. 

Insufferable as he can be sometimes, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some magnetic pull towards him. 

Losing control of the situation a bit, you grab the reins again. Clearing your throat you ask, “Do you talk to all your employees like that?”

He shakes his head. “Nah.” Gojo props an elbow onto his knee and presses his cheek into the palm of his hand. His smile grows warm and gooey when his blue eyes clash with yours from where you sit a few inches below him. “Just you.” 

You’ll die. You swear you can die right now from the way he’s looking at you— which is no way a boss would ever look at their employee. Let alone assistant. 

Keep it professional.

“Wow! I’m flattered,” you reply, your tone laced heavily with dry sarcasm. You brush his legs away, successfully bringing his feet to rest on the floor and scoot back from your desk. The heated tension that once lingered in the air clears out a bit as you rise to your feet.

Soft cerulean eyes watch as you stand before him, a bit more guarded as you cross your arms across your chest. Whatever you say next is completely lost on him because unlike you, as subtle as he may be, Gojo allows his eyes to wander.

He swallows thickly. You shouldn’t do that. His gaze inconspicuously slides down to the low neck of your blouse and zeroes in on how your arms press against your chest, deliciously squeezing your breasts together and—

“Satoru!” you hiss.

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as discreet as he thought.

Quickly flitting his attention back to your face, Satoru offers you a half-assed apology but it’s too late for that. Your face is screwed tight with abashment and bafflement after having caught him in the act. It’s an emotion he hasn’t seen you wear lately. He wants to see more of that. More of you.

Before you could get a word out, ready to rip him a new one about how your eyes weren’t ‘down there’, he hurriedly rushes out a proposition— changing the subject and bringing you both back to the original reason as to why he’d been following you around this past hour. “If I get you to like me, will you work past your term?”

You rest your arms at your sides, completely forfeiting your motion to scold him. Now that’s new. “I never said I don’t like you.”

Satisfaction settles in his chest, warm and heavy at your statement. Gojo liked the sound of that. 

“Then how about this,” the tall CEO moves from his seat on your desk toward you. With each step you take back, he matches you in stride until he’s got your back up against a wall. Quite literally. 

“If I get you to like me more than you do now, you stay. With me. Deal?”

The gentle scent of fabric softener and sandalwood cologne wafts around you. This proximity made you squirm with anticipation. “Do what you want,” you say, craning your neck up to stare at him resolutely. “It won’t change the fact that I’ll be in a whole new department next month.”

The smirk on Gojo’s lips stretches wide as he meets you stare for stare. His voice drips heavy with confidence and a brazen spirit as he says, “Yeah?”

You only manage a stiff nod, not trusting yourself to speak lest it comes out as a fucking moan from the sexual tension alone.

Content with your compliant state, Gojo finally backs off from you and makes his way toward your door. “Don’t forget that meeting we have with the executives this Friday.”

“I know,” you tumble out, sinking back onto your office chair, miffed that he's got you in such a tizzy. It's a miracle that you don’t melt into it right away under his gaze.

You pick up a new batch of paperwork and begin filing them into their respective folders. When you finish with the first set, Gojo’s still lingering by the doorway, watching you.

“…Yes?”

“Nice top, by the way.” His hand rests on the wooden frame, eyes half-lidded with intent. “It really does bring out your eyes.”

As expected, you did not forget about that special executive meeting on Friday. Nor did you forget about the many others you’d have to host and coordinate after that, too.

Essentially, you didn’t let what had transpired the week before deter you from your respective duties as Gojo’s personal assistant. As his right-hand… woman.

But you didn’t entirely forget about what went down either. 

Whether you adhered to his “deal” or not was completely up to you. However, after that day, every personal meeting or time alone together seemed to bristle with tension, heavy with a delicious sort of pressure of the unknown. 

When Gojo would catch your eye or you’d catch his during prolonged meetings that stretched over the initial run time with the higher-ups, there would be a brief moment of shared glances. One recent instance stuck with you to the last few weeks of your contract.

You remember how he would roll his eyes sarcastically as if he were being forced against his own will to attend these kinds of things— which technically he was, but that’s the reality of being a successful founder and CEO of your own company— and his actions would rouse a stifled giggle from you, which in turn prompted an easy smile of his own.

But it was through these shared glances, these brief moments of humour that it would slip into something a little slower, a little more sweet the more you two held eye contact like dripping honey until you broke it off, hurriedly directing your attention back toward the front of the room.

It’s only a matter of time until this bundled ball of emotions displayed through knowing glances and brief moments of heated exchanges finally snaps.

You both wonder when that’ll be.

“This is crazy.”

You slide your gaze away from swirling your cup of iced cappuccino to Shoko who sits beside you. She leans her head back against the cushions of your office sofa— a complimentary gift from Gojo two weeks ago(you suspect it was his last-ditch effort to get you to stay).

“What is?” you ask.

Sitting up, Shoko crosses her leg over the other and fixes you with an exhausted look. “This!” she exclaims, gesturing her hands around the vicinity of your room. There are moving boxes scattered everywhere, which is a bit absurd considering you’re only moving one level downstairs to your old space. 

“I can’t believe you’ve only got a week left until you switch departments,” she says. “Suguru’s gonna lose his head the moment you’re gone and Satoru’s already started with the theatrics.”

Trust and believe that you already know. It’s hard not to when you’ve got the Chief Operating Officer, Geto Suguru, knocking on your door for an offer you ‘don’t wanna turn down’. But once you’d told Geto that you were still going ahead with filling out the documents to head back to Utahime and her team, it led to a hefty chunk of your lunch being taken up by him asking (begging) you to reconsider when your contract end date drew closer. 

“I just worry for Ijichi is all,” you say, shrugging as if the situation were already out of your hands. “Gojo’s been very temperamental and… well, bratty these past few days.” 

Shoko’s brown and neatly trimmed brows shoot up with interest at the disclosure.

You think back to a few days ago when you told Satoru to take it easy on Ijichi. You told your white-haired superior that he’d have to patiently reintroduce him to the new tech and procedures that Ijichi would work with as it would be his first week back. You couldn’t believe your ears when he straight-up told you, “I don’t care about a man’s hardships. He can work them out by himself!”

“Satoru’s always tormented the poor guy,” Shoko says, shaking her head at her friend’s show of obnoxious behaviour, “but he does mean well. I think.”

And speak of the devil… 

Over the curve of Shoko’s shoulder through the open blinds of your clear, glass window you spot Gojo. Noticing that he’s caught your attention, he waves incessantly at you through the glass before you hear him twist the knob of your door open.

“Which reminds me,” your friend continues, drawing your sights back on her, “the rest of the team and I were thinking of heading out for drinks later to celebrate with you one last time. Wanna come?”

“Oooh,” Gojo drawls once he’s within earshot. 

He’s looking extraordinarily handsome today, wearing black slacks and a buttoned, linen navy blue top. He’s smiling boyishly from ear to ear when he catches you twisting your lips in a tight purse as if you were trying to stifle a smile of your own. “A celebration, hm? Can I come?”

Shoko scrunches her face at the sudden question and self-invitation. She throws a bewildered look in Gojo’s direction when he settles himself onto his signature spot in your office. Your desk. “Why?”

Huh?

What kind of question was that? Why else would he want to spend an evening out with everyone? With you especially.

White brows bunch together, tight with confusion. “To celebrate with you guys?” he responds as if Shoko had just asked a one-dimensional question. 

“You’ve been a moping mess this past month after you’ve learned that she—” Shoko points her finger into the flesh of your cheek, “—wasn’t going to extend her work contract with you. So, if anyone’s gonna be celebrating, it sure as hell isn’t you.”

Yeesh! Tell him what you really think.

Knowing Shoko didn’t mean any harm by her words, you still felt inclined to soften the blow of her statement just a tad. “Plus, you don’t drink alcohol, Gojo.”

“And you don’t drink,” Shoko adds, raising her arms in exclamation as if to thank you for bringing that point up.

“Well,” pushing himself off the edge of your mahogany desk, Gojo stops a bit before the sofa you and Shoko both occupied. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time with my team!” he defends, directing a pout-induced glower at his colleague.

You’d think he’s done, but with the touch of Gojo’s large hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the couch that you realize he’s far from over at stating his point. “And neither do you,” he says, he pulls you behind him, steering you both toward the door. “We’ve got plans.”

Puzzlement crosses over not only yours but Shoko’s features as well.

“We do?”

“Since when?”

Gojo nods at you and Shoko’s questions spoken in tandem. “Emergency meeting. She and I’ve got important matters to discuss.” You feel the faint brush of his hand find the small of your lower back and maneuver you out the door and away from Shoko’s view. “You wouldn’t get it.” Is the last thing he says before he pokes his tongue out at the woman and ducks out of sight.

“Oh, really?” She says, rising to her feet but making no moves to follow you both out the door.

“You don’t even put your own two cents during our regular team meetings! There’s literally nothing for you to discuss, Satoru.” You hear her call after him as he guides you down the hall, past the elevators and toward his big office.

If only she knew how true that statement would be.

Gojo hates meetings. They always happen at inconvenient moments and eat up way too much of his precious time. It’s time that he could be spending doing something else… or someone. 

Which is why this “emergency meeting” was different.

If someone had told Gojo Satoru several months ago that his favourite employee, his darling assistant would be seated pliant for him on his expensive Birch Lane executive desk he would have laughed in their face with a furious blossoming blush nipping at his neck.

But right now, there’s nothing to laugh about.

Gojo’s watching you closely in the shaded dark of his room, tracking every subtle shift in your body language for any indication that you may be uncomfortable and change your mind at the last minute. But when you wrap an arm around his neck, slotting him closer in between your legs, he realizes he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Something in the air felt different. It was thicker. Electric. 

Gojo knew in an instant he wouldn’t last when your lips ghost the words, “This doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind,” on his mouth, before tipping his head to the side, giving you the space to slot your lips with his.

Game fucking over.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t able to completely get you to change your mind about working with him and his department.

But this?

You whimper into his mouth when his hands skim down back and cheekily resting right above your ass. Your body warms underneath the palm of his hands with every touch and how he kneads your hips tucked away beneath your business casual attire.

Gojo Satoru had won in his own right.

Your breaths come quicker as he steals them from you, his left-hand squeezes your side while the other slides across your lower belly and traces the hem of your blouse.

“Take this off,” he commands, his voice wrecked with reckless abandon. His forefinger hooks on the band of your pants, in a pathetic attempt to pull them down despite not having undone your button and zipper. His air of frustration is not lost on you when you see the slight furrow in his brows, the more he pulls but to no avail of getting you in a state of undress.

Not wanting to lose the momentum you both have, you unhook your arm from his shoulders to give him a helping hand.

“Relax,” you say, softly nudging his hands away from your clothing. He hungrily eyes how you pop the button of your dress pants and shuck them onto the floor. 

Once that was off though, everything came into sharp focus, and Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. 

There’s almost a crazed look in his eye the more he stares at your clothed cunt unblinking, unmoving. His breathing’s gone a bit ragged, and every so often you feel the twitch of his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh.

It was a bad idea, considering how the sight of your panties alone had him this rigid, this excited. But he still grits out a rough, “Lemme see.”

Slowly, you pull your laced underwear to the side and Gojo's teeth dig into his inner cheek at the sight. His hands mark a slow path from your thighs down to your knees, pushing them wide apart so that he could see more of you. 

The delicate spread of your folds had your boss entranced. Gojo has seen and salivated over the various outfits you wore to the workplace, always wondering what was underneath before he deemed such thoughts as inappropriate and immediately started thinking about something else. But now that he sees it for himself, it was all too tantalizing. He wanted to see all of you, taste all of you.

The tuft of snow-white hair that once obscured your vision is now gone, sinking lower to your lap.

“Oh!” you exclaim loudly at his sudden movement. Shocked by how quickly he came down to eye level with your pussy.  “You don’t—” you stammer, swallowing hard as all the blood rushed to your head. Instinctively, you snap your legs shut in a weak attempt to shield yourself from his intense, unwavering gaze. “You don’t have to do that!” 

Having one of Japan’s richest, self-made men drop down to his knees staring fervently at your cunt through you in for a loop. You’re sure by now the expression face was no less than gobsmacked right now.

Gojo’s hand grasps one of your calves, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over your warm skin before he hooks it over his shoulder leaning closer to you. “What do you mean?” 

Pulling you closer to his face, you’re forced to plant your other foot onto the ground for stability. “This!” you hiss out, tone laced with embarrassment and arousal as your finger points between his face and your body. “It’s unbecoming, you don’t have to do that to get me off. Really!”

“Why not?”

You don’t have to say what you’re thinking out loud. You were his assistant for fuck’s sake! 

You’re sure what you two are doing would be an issue with some legal policy with the company. But then again… Gojo Satoru is the founder and CEO of said company so he can technically get away with one or two things. But—

Sensing your hesitancy, Gojo’s eyes soften when he looks up at you. “Just… forget the formalities for a sec, will you?” he implores, strong hands grazing up to your knees again hoping you wouldn’t be stubborn with him this one time. “Please? I want to do this for you.”

You look searchingly into his eyes before you finally mellow out. Feeling you relax in his hold and your thighs lose that tension, that was enough of a green light for Satoru before his mouth skims along the mound of pussy. Each kiss he pressed lovingly against your skin, left you shivering in their wake. 

It wasn’t long before his tongue, firm and slick, pokes out and licks a long, slow stripe up your slit which has you keening. You feel his lips twist into a smug smile when he hears the broken sound of his first name from above him.

“Hm?” he hums, still mouthing at your pussy which encourages another ragged moan from you. “Am I doing good so far?”

You don’t know why he even bothered asking, considering the sheen shine of your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Nonetheless, you give him the answer he patiently waits for.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moaning again when the tip of his tongue circles your sensitive clit. 

And it all becomes too much when his hand abandons supporting your leg on his shoulder, to skate its way up your thigh and toward your pussy. The combination of his forefinger rubbing tight, intricate shapes on your clit and his mouth working you open have you yelping from overstimulation. 

You press your palm against Gojo’s forehead when the heat in your lower belly runs hotter, successfully pushing his face away.

“Not like this,” you protested weakly, your hand smooths down from his face to grip his shoulders. There’s a light flush that peaks beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks absolutely debauched right now. “I want you.”

With the cuff of his sleeve, Gojo wipes your arousal off the bottom half of his face. Unhooking your legs from him, you're left to shakily stand on your own, with nothing but the support of his desk to keep you upright.

“Alright,” he breathes, smiling at how your eyes follow the way his hands undo the expensive black Ferragamo belt on his waist. “How do you want me then?” 

“Um…” You look around the place for feasible places for you to get fucked on. Crude, but true. 

Behind Gojo is his office chair rolled back, looking vacant and lonely. “We could do it on the chair?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at your proposal. “If you want?”

“You want to ride me?” he asks, a proud smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

Your air of confidence softens into something more breathless and vulnerable which has his heart surging with reckless affection. “Don’t make it weird!” you yelp, giving his shoulder a light shove.

Dragging the chair closer, Gojo chuckles at how quick you are to change moods. “Come,” he says once he has sat down, patting his lap with one hand while the other pulls himself free from his boxers and slacks. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”

You don’t know what turns you on more: A) the way he’s speaking so dirty, so obscene with you right now or B) the sight of Satoru’s cock smacking against the pale, creamy space of his exposed lower abdomen. You stare at it for too long, the build-up of saliva gathering in your mouth the more you stare at his thick and hard shaft, occasionally bobbing on its own under your intense glare.

You could die and go to heaven right now.

Gojo’s hands grab your waist and pull you closer to him. Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you twist around so that you’re back is now facing him as you prepare to take him all in.

“No, no, no, no,” he rushes out when you’re about to sit down on his lap facing away from him. Within seconds, Gojo has you facing him. He grasps the back of your knee and tugs it to his side, pushing the armrest out of the way and does the same with the other. 

Oh! You didn’t know it could do that. 

“I wanna see you,” he murmurs, once you’re now straddling his lap and hovering mere inches away from his erection. His free hand moves between your bodies and grabs the base of his cock and angles it toward your slit.

“Oh.” You feel giddy. The noticeable brush of his tip stroking along your slick folds only adds to that dizzying sensation. “Yeah, I’m—”

When the head of Gojo’s cock slowly starts to push inside of you, your sentence is cut off by a broken moan emitted from the back of your throat.

With his eyes closed, there’s a lazy smile that spreads across Gojo’s mouth as he breathes out a heavy groan once he’s all the way inside you. “Yeeeah,” he whispers, the pads of his fingertips pushing tight against your bare skin.

You bite your lip and experiment with this position. Lifting your hips slightly before you sink back down, Gojo buries his face into your neck and breathes, ragged and heavy.

So much for wanting to see you.

“Shit,” you hear him hiss, as he blindly gropes at your ass, working your body to continue to slide up and down his hard cock. The heat of you had him seeing stars as searing pleasure tore through him.

Whimpering, you clench onto firm biceps, enjoying the shallow strokes he pushes into you.

It’s incoherent at first. However, when you tumble out a dazed huh? so that you could hear him repeat whatever he had said, Satoru's lips parted in ecstasy. “I forgot,” he choked out, voice raw and unhinged.

Gently tugging him away from your neck, your core tightened at the fucked out expression on his face. Curious eyes trail down to his stomach and how with each pump inside you, his muscles involuntarily spasm.

“The condom,” he states, slowing down his fevered pace. “I forgot…”

If it were anyone else, you would’ve hopped right the fuck off their lap with panic, body tense over the fact of how careless you were being.

But surprisingly there were no alarm bells and no flashing red lights in your mind. If anything your blood ran a little hotter, the need and tightness in your core taking over.

You don’t know you have it in you to completely stop everything in a search for a condom you don’t even know he might have.

“Pull out then,” is all you say before you begin to ride him again.

Gojo can definitely get behind that. He’s not complaining if it meant he got to have you completely raw.

Your pussy swallows his cock, and Satoru gathers up the bottom of his shirt— wrinkling it in the process— so that he could see the way he disappears inside you over and over.

When he shifts his gaze back up again so he can take in the expression you might be wearing, Gojo’s surprised to see you already looking at him.

There’s an adorable tinge to your lips that has Gojo flitting his gaze back to them every damn time he tries to make eye contact with you as he fucks himself sweetly into your pussy.

He’s overcome with the strong urge to kiss you. To cross the small width of space between your mouths.

So, he does.

His brow bumping yours, Gojo’s hands return to your ass and he stands up with you in his embrace. The cold press of his desk accosts you as he uses his weight to push you slowly onto your back. 

“Satoru,” you sigh your boss’s name blissfully once his lips leave yours to press them along the curve of your jaw before pulling away.

“I wanted this to be nicer,” he says, brilliant blue eyes glittering down at you through the sex-soaked shadows. His hips don’t stop pistoning in and out of you, and he exhales a particularly harsh hiss when he feels you squeeze around him. “Nicer than here.”

You drag in a breath at his sentence, its implications not lost on you. He’s thought about this before. “It's okay, there's always another time.” 

Satoru hums appreciatively, seemingly pleased with your answer. After leaning in for one last kiss, he brushed his mouth from yours and announced in a voice you barely recognize, “I’m gonna come.”

Propping yourself onto your elbows, you nod at him. “Pull out then.”

“Are you sure?” 

 Stuck between the incredulous look painted across your features and how your nails press a little tighter into his skin, Gojo listens. Not without hissing out a disgruntled, “Fine.”

Pulling out from your wet pussy, Gojo’s hand wraps around his dick and he strokes it fast and hot. He growls with sharp relief when you reach a hand down to massage his sac. He thinks he may come all over you if you continue doing that.

“Fuck,” he snarls when your fingers graze the base of his cock. 

Cracking his eyes open, he messily knocks your hand away from him before intertwining his fingers with yours and grabbing himself with his free hand, stroking hard and fast. Every so often his tip would intentionally rub up and press against your nub, successfully stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves with the main goal to climax.

With every pent-up thought he’s had about you, Gojo finally comes with you in tow. His cum dribbles out from his slit and lands on your skin— mostly between your inner thighs and folds.

“So,” Gojo starts, his hands wandering up to the middle of your back after a few moments of comfortable shared silence between you two. As much as he wanted to relax in your post-sex session and bask in its warm glow, he had to address the elephant in the room.

You hum in response as you work the buttons of your blouse, waiting for him to continue. “When you said ‘next time’, did you seriously mean t—” 

The two of you abruptly jump apart at the telltale sound of heels clicking down the hall drawing closer and closer to Gojo’s office door. In a panic, you leap off his desk, sending a flurry of sheets flying down to the floor into a sorry pile. 

“Nice going,” Gojo remarks with a sly grin, as you hurriedly shimmy your pants up your legs. The sheen layer of sweat— among other things— makes it a bit difficult for you to easily slip them on.

Once they’re settled at your hips and you tend to the zip, you cast a withering glare his way, you’re relieved to see that he’s already tucked himself away into his pants, already looking presentable by the time the door opens.

With the click of the lock giving way, you hear a woman starkly ask, “Why are all the lights off?”

You could pinpoint that voice from a kilometre away. 

Turning on your heel, you see the shadowy figure of one of your closest colleagues in the dark of the room. “Utahime!”

When the head director steps into the room and flicks on the lights, the sudden brightness has you squinting your eyes a bit. Upon catching your gaze she offers you a sincere smile, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.  

But it doesn’t last long because seconds after her smile morphs it into a displeased scowl when she spots Gojo lounging boneless in his office chair a few feet away.

“And why’s it so…” Utahime fans a delicate hand in front of her face, casting a weary gaze at you two from across the room. “Warm in here?” she questions no one in particular.

Her eyes take in the setting before her, and she pauses in her tracks. You could only imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind.

“What hap—”

“—It’s warm?! I couldn’t even tell!” you respond, a bit too chipper as you cut her line of questioning off. A bit too fast. 

From behind you, you hear Gojo’s stifled laughter that’s covered by poorly by a ridiculous attempt at a coughing fit.

“Well,” you wring your hands together subconsciously, “what brings you here?”

Noticing your off demeanour, Utahime fixes you with a puzzled look that reads as if she were asking you "are you okay?" as your plastered smile only grows more strained by the second.

“I came here to grab your reports and documentation from Gojo’s outbox, but somebody,” cue Satoru slipping on his signature shades to deflect the icy stare Utahime was housing, “forgot to put them there. Hence why I’m here.”

“Oh, right!” Gojo hums, rolling back from his desk as he reaches down to gather the scattered sheets that had fallen to the floor. “They’re all here.”

You both watch in shared silence as he flips through each page, meticulously setting each one aside that wasn’t labeled with your name on the header. 

Thrown off by how long he’s deliberately taking in smoothing out the crinkles on each page, the older woman stomps up to Gojo and unceremoniously slaps her hand on the wooden table. “Give me that, will you?!” she exclaims, snatching and wrestling the papers out from his hands.

“Ah! Wait—”

Scanning the pages your department leader seems content that everything’s in order.

Until it's not?

The woman’s once sunny and bright disposition suddenly flips on his head, as there seems to be something written on that page midway that makes her freeze.

“Go ahead and hand me a new copy,” Utahime says, practically tossing the sheets of paper back onto his desk without a second glance. She smooths her hands down the silky expanse of her long skirt, once, twice, then three times for good measure. “I want it in my inbox by next Monday.”

She nods curtly at you before she turns and practically books it to his door. You don’t know why but you swear you saw the faintest hue of pink tickling the apples of her cheeks. There was also an expression that couldn’t quite put your finger on that highlighted her features. 

If you were to say though, her emotion looked between the mix of detachment, embarrassment… wait, no. It was mortification.

But what was there to be mortified over?  

“What’s wrong with the copy you gave her?”

Gojo presses his lips together in a sad attempt to keep his smile at bay as he hands it over to you to see for yourself.

Eyebrows furrowed, you skim each sheet. You don’t get it. What’s the problem with—

That’s until you notice that some of the pages were sticking together. It’s on the third page you see it and understand why Utahime was in such a rush to leave. Why she kept wiping her hands onto her clothing.

Right there among the printed hiragana and kanji was a few small white streaks of fluid covering bolded characters and numbers. 

Oh no.

“Y’know…” The sleeve of his dress shirt rests along your neck as his hand squeezes at your shoulder. Delicate fingers slide against your bare skin and pull at the strap of your bra, successfully tucking it underneath your blouse again. Had that been poking out the entire time?!  “I knew it would’ve been a good idea to finish inside.”

Horrified that you’d have to deal with the information of going back to Utahime next week knowing that she knows what you guys did, has you burrying your face into Gojo’s chest and letting out a muffled scream.

“Just saying!”

FIN

i don't know how to stay within the maximum word count for the life of me... i'm not sorry!

also there's probably errors in this as i wrote it very hurriedly YOINKIES... ILL FIX EM TMRW IN THE MEANTIME THANKS FOR READINGGG

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, anxious Dean, anxious Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2683

MDNI 18+

A/N: another slightly shorter chapter (sorry). Idk why but I rewrote this chapter so many times to try and get it right, so fingers crossed it’s not awful. But the encounter finally happens! Not long now until we get to see Dean doing dad things, and tbh, I’m living for it. Feedback is always appreciated! Love you all

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Spilling the truth took a lot less time than I'd anticipated, so after a quick update texted to Kat and the much needed coffees, Dean and I decided to head over to the track. Dean himself was feeling every emotion under the sun. He expressed a constant string of heartfelt apologies for nearly the whole walk from Jolenes’ Café back to where we'd parked, despite me constantly reminding him that he has nothing to apologise for. He's here now, and that's what matters. The phrases ‘I have a son,’ and ‘I’m a dad’ seemed to intertwine with the ‘I’m sorry’s’ like a mantra, to the point where I had to stop him in his tracks and refocus his attention before his head got lost in the clouds.

“I get it, Dean. This is so much to absorb right now, and I can't imagine what is going on in that crazy brain of yours. You don't have to come with me right now, we can meet tomorrow if you want-”

“No, absolutely not. I've been absent for too long and I'll be damned if I waste another minute,” he nervously wiped his hands over his face as we approached my truck. I couldn't help but smile. “I mean, what if he doesn't like me?”

I couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping my mouth, earning a raised eyebrow from the man who was working himself into an anxious sweat.

“Dean, trust me, he's going to want to be your best friend. Especially when he knows that’s your car,” I nodded my head to the impala a few spaces away, recalling Levi's excitement when he saw it in town yesterday.

“Really?”

“Really. Plus…” I hesitated, unsure what emotion my next statement was going to stir within Dean, “he's been bullied for not having a dad around, and I think he'll be grateful for that to stop.”

Deans’ brows furrowed as he leant on the side of my truck, dropping his head and muttering a few curses.

“He's been bullied because I've not been there?” He looked up with a pained pinch in his brow. I sighed.

“Yes but trust me, your boy gives as good as he gets,” I smiled a little, bringing Dean some reassurance. I could tell the words ‘your boy’ had an effect on him. “Look,” I reached out to rub his shoulder affectionately, to which he responded with a warm hand over mine, squeezing my fingers. “We need to get going to pick him up. Why don't you come in my truck with me?” He paused for a moment, thinking, gathering his thoughts before standing up straight and nodding. “Great,” I grinned at him, a few nervous butterflies fluttering in my own stomach now. I reached for his hand again, giving it another squeeze, “let's get going then.”

Dean had insisted on driving, mainly for his own sanity and I’d happily obliged, remembering what a terrible passenger he was. After a couple of painstaking minutes of him readjusting my seat, we pulled away and headed down to the track. 

The drive was about twenty minutes, and most of that was spent in a comfortable conversation about Levi. Dean wanted to know everything. And I mean everything. His hobbies, his favourite movie, his favourite cereal, his least favourite cereal, his grades, his favourite subject… the list went on. Before we knew it, we were turning down a dirt road and pulling into a large gravel car park. As we pulled up and hopped out, the buzz of dirt bikes and loud chatter filled the air, along with the intense smell of petrol. Dean walked around to my side, looking around and taking it all in.

“Levi does this? He can ride a dirt bike?” he asked, an impressed tone to his voice. Dean had forgone the leather jacket and as I glanced at him, I couldn't help but trail my gaze over his biceps and the way the grey fabric of his t-shirt stretched around the large muscles. I looked away quickly before he caught me. Now was not the time to let my eyes or thoughts wander.

“Yeah, he's really into it, and he's good too; he has a few trophies at home. To be honest, he loves anything with wheels and an engine,” I grinned, meeting Deans’ eyes with a knowing look. He smiled back.

“Really?”

“You know, he's a lot like you - even though you've never met. It's kinda crazy,” I started heading down to the gathering point, knowing that Levi would be coming off the track soon. Dean was hot on my heels. “He even looks like you.” 

“Poor kid.”

I smacked him on the arm playfully as Dean chuckled.

“You're handsome and you know it, so shut your mouth.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Just as we were approaching the gathering point I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Looking through the crowd I saw Kat trotting up to us in her poorly chosen footwear, Toby nowhere in sight. She pulled me into a hug with a smirk already growing on her lips, and as she pulled back she turned to study the tall man at my side.

“Hmm… you are even finer than your photograph.”

“Kat!”

She ignored me.

“I'm Kat, it's nice to meet you, Dean. I feel like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other. You know, since our son's are besties,” she stuck out her hand and grasped Deans, giving it a firm shake and dropping it before he'd even uttered a word. She turned back to me, her smirk still on her lips.

“Since Levi is coming home with you today - much to Toby's disappointment - how would you feel about him sleeping over tomorrow?”

“Yeah totally, he'd love that,” I grinned at her, forever grateful.

“Great! I'll pick him up tomorrow,” she beamed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before turning on her heels and heading back into the crowd of parents. We'd normally wait for the boys to emerge together, but I know her, and she didn't want to step on Deans’ toes. This was a big deal, and in her eyes, she was the outsider here.

“What was that?” Dean looked at me, slightly stunned with a quizzical brow.

“That,” I gestured to Kat's disappearing figure, “is Kat. She's my best friend, and to be honest I don't think I'd have made it this far without her.”

“Kat. Got it,” he seemed to make a mental note of who she was, catching on quickly that she was an important person in my life. In Levi's life. I grinned at him, perhaps a little nervously before grasping his hand and pulling him with me in the same direction Kat had left.

“Come on, he’ll be out soon, let's wait for him.”

Dean flashed the smallest smile whilst taking a deep breath. He looked down at our hands and I noticed his palms were a little sweaty. He gripped tighter, hanging to me like I was a lifeline as I pulled him through the crowd. His silence spoke volumes of his nerves, so I stopped at the edge of the gaggle of parents, fearing that he would soon find this all too much. 

For the whole five minutes that we waited, Dean didn't let go of me.

It didn't take long for the whirring of tiny engines to draw closer and closer before finally stopping, shortly followed by the chatter of smaller, childlike voices. Kids began to filter through the crowd, and it wasn’t long before a familiar outline pushing a small, black dirt bike headed our way. Suddenly Dean pulled his hand away from mine and raked his fingers frantically through his hair, pacing in a small circle.

“Shit…shit- what do I say to him? How do I talk to him? He's gonna hate me-”

“Hey hey hey, calm down, everything is fine! Trust me, Dean, Levi is not going to hate you,” I reached to rub a hand over the back of his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and flex with every deep breath he took. 

“I've done a lot of terrifying shit in my life but this really takes the cake,” he dragged a large hand over his paleing face.

“He's an eight year old boy, baby. Trust me, you've got this.” 

He sighed before stopping in his tracks, his gaze catching mine with a twitch of his lip.

“It's been a hot minute since you've called me that, sweetheart,” he stepped closer, reaching to touch the small of my back with tender fingertips.

It took a moment for realisation to dawn, and when it did I felt heat bloom across my cheeks. 

“I-I'm sorry- it just slipped out- I didn't mean-”

“(Y/n) it's ok! I don't mind,” he chuckled slightly, his nerves seeming to dissipate. The playful glint had returned to his eye for a moment, but it was quickly replaced with something calmer, more serene. His grin lessened, but the warmth in his features remained. “I don't mind.”

I looked up at him, my heart and stomach feeling warm and light as we seemed to acknowledge our own familiarity between each other. It wasn't just Levi that connected us, and I seemed to forget that Dean and I used to be in a relationship. We were more than just a one night stand - we were intimate on multiple levels. 

“Hey mom!” 

The bubble around Dean and I popped as Levi had crept up on us, crash helmet still equipped and his bike to his side.  I felt Dean tense beside me, the air around him practically sizzling with anticipation.

“Hey there, trouble! You had a good afternoon?” I stepped up to Levi and patted his helmet. He nodded vigorously.

“Great! You can tell me all about it in the car,” I paused and glanced at Dean, frozen in place and not taking his eyes off Levi since he appeared. It took a moment for Levi to realise that Dean was even standing there, his focus still on me and his fun afternoon. After a few breaths, Dean tore his gaze away from his son and he looked over at me, his expression heavy with a whole concoction of emotions. I offered him a small smile before nodding. 

“Hey, Levi,” I crouched down to my sons’  level, “I have a surprise for you. I'm gonna need you to take your helmet off, ok?”

I saw his eyes light up as he nodded vigorously. Helping him to support his bike, he eagerly tore his helmet off, his short brown hair tousling in the process. He grinned at me, his helmet now tucked under his arm as he waited patiently. I heard a sharp inhale hiss through Deans’ teeth from behind me as he laid eyes on his sons’ face for the first time. I smiled at Levi, taking his smaller, dirt covered hand in mine.

“Ok, so… You see this man behind me?” I tilted my head in Deans’ direction, and Levi followed with his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin unfaltering.

“Well,” I drew in a breath, “his name is Dean. And I knew Dean a long time ago,” there was another apprehensive pause as my own pulse quickened. “Sweetheart… Dean… He’s, well… He’s your dad.”

I watched as the grin fell from Levis’ face, his green eyes widening.

“What?” his voice was all but a whisper, his gaze flitting rapidly between me and Dean, who’d now taken a step closer.

“He’s your dad,” I repeated, reaching up to softly comb my fingers through the front of his wild hair. Levis’ bottom lip started to tremble as my words sunk in, the truth of the situation we were in starting to hit home as tears started to well in his eyes.

“You’re serious?” he squeaked with a sniff.

I nodded, the emotions from my son now bleeding into me, a lump forming in my throat.

“Yeah honey, I’m serious.”

Levis’ helmet hit the dirt with a thud and in that instant he’d thrown himself at Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his mud streaked face into his shirt. His dad didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, wrapping his large arms around Levis’ shoulders and pulling him into the same crushing hug I’d received earlier today.

“Hey kid,” Dean spoke against the top of Levis’ head, his voice rasping as he choked his words out, “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here.” 

I stood up from where I’d been crouching, now clutching the small helmet that had been flung to the ground. I drew Deans’ attention as I shifted, and I felt like my heart could have exploded in my chest when I saw the glossiness in his eyes. Tears of joy, relief and perhaps even bittersweet regret were on the brink of spilling over, and the soft smile he threw my way said a million ‘thank yous’.  The quiet sounds of Levis’ sniffling were what pulled on my heartstrings the most. The boy who loved nothing more than to race bikes, watch movies and talk about cars had grown up without a dad to share those interests with. He’d watched the other kids around him down at the track, their fathers joining in with the activities. Other kids had their dads to play sports with down at the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon. They’d had a role model who they could admire, always in the bedroom next to theirs. But not Levi. He’d had me, and I did my best to fill those fatherly shoes, but we both knew it just wasn’t the same. There were times when I think it upset me more than it had upset him, feeling like my child was missing out on something so important. But now… now that Dean was here, for however long he was planning on staying, Levi could finally experience the things he’d dreamt of for so long. I just hoped it would turn out to be everything that he’d ever imagined.

I watched as Levi finally pulled away from his dad, his tears having cleaned tracks through the mud on his face. He sniffed one my time before beaming up at Dean.

“Hey, kid,” Dean smiled softly, ruffling his hair with a hand the same size as his head, “maybe if your moms ok with it, we could hang out a bit. Maybe go and grab some ice-cream? My treat,” Dean shifted that smile to me, and I would’ve had to have had a heart of stone to decline that request.

“Of course,” I smiled back, “ice-cream sounds perfect.”

“Great,” Deans’ grin widened, a refreshed look in his eye as he let go of Levi and stepped towards me, taking the helmet from my hands. My breath caught in my throat when he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to my cheek. I took everything to not let my eyes flutter closed, to not get lost in that moment, but the familiar feeling of his lips on my skin and scent washing over awoke the butterflies in my stomach. My heart leapt in my chest, and I couldn’t help the sigh of relief when he pulled away, stepping around me. He kicked the bike stand back and wheeled the small vehicle forwards, looking at Levi and urging him to come and push it.

“Come on kid, why don’t you tell me all about this beast on our way back to the truck,” he smiled to his son who beamed back, leaping over to him. Dean chuckled slightly as the smaller version of himself burst into conversation about top speeds and engine strokes, and the wide look in Deans’ eyes as he glanced up at me, finally understanding what I’d meant when I’d said they were so alike. And as Levi chatted animatedly to his dad as we walked, my heart swelled as I watched them.

I couldn’t seem to look away as I witnessed Dean gaze down at his son, looking like the proudest father in the world.

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[pressplay-if]

I saw that the single mum route is the less angsty when it comes to family stuff. Which is lovely. However, it reminded me of something I was thinking the other day. I was trying to figure out what kind of depressive thoughts my MC may have (as I'm still deciding if he'll have depression or social anxiety). And since I always pick the single mother route (I love the idea of MC being the poor friend of the band), I got some ideas.

Basically, I guess my MC would feel a lot of guilt. He knows that his mother is busy with so much work not out of being a workaholic, but by need. Need that is significantly exacerbated by MC's existence. I do imagine a young MC especially feeling guilty and as a burden to their mum, since the poor woman has to raise them and work full time.

This is further increased as the years come by and MC decides to dedicate their lives to a band. A high reward but high risk kind of job. My MC could easily fail to achieve any major success. And then what? It's very easy to feel guilt. Maybe he should have tried to find a more stable job? Something to help his mother so she can lower her workload significantly?

Then again, I am sure my MC's mother would prefer MC to go after his dreams. So, I imagine, MC is also in a weird position where he also would feel guilt if he didn't pursue the music life. Because he is sure his mother would know, and she would feel bad. His mother could easily blame herself that her child is leaving their dream behind. And my MC couldn't bear such idea. So, he is stuck in a weird limbo.

Of course this may be just me overthinking. But it could be some kind of ideas that my MC could fester on his mind as he grows up. Since it's very easy to go from guilt to be burden, to guilt about existing, and then to decide to remove himself from life as that would, in a way, "fix the problem" (which is not true, of course, since suicide doesn't fix things).

Well, I'll stop rambling. This is perhaps a bit of a downer, so I understand if you prefer to ignore it. In any case this basically comes from me thinking a lot about my MC and this IF.

Why would I ignore it I love long asks. Although it does make me think that perhaps (given the current state of the hospitalization interlude) MC may need more options to describe their depressive thoughts. Bc in the interlude, it's all mostly symptom-based, and there's more screentime to MC getting better than MC experiencing the depression. This is partly for the sake of brevity (I'm worried about the interlude getting to long, given it's just another flashback basically, albeit a really important one). But the MC CAN in fact say they felt like a burden to their single mother in a later decision (not chapter 2, it's when they move out).

[ripdragonbeans]

Love In The Darkest of Places // Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: You and Aemond have been best friends from the moment you met. Growing up, there were many ups and downs but one thing was always constant: Aemond was always there.

Warnings: loss of a body part, gore, blood, profanity.

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2

One thing that has always drawn you to Aemond, even when you two were in elementary school, was his brain. In the afternoons you would work on homework together and on the weekends you would play. School was very important to both of you, even at such a young age.

“That's not the answer!” You cried when you double checked your work. “Math is hard.”

Aemond laughed at you. “Math isn't hard, you just need to think.”

“Says you. You're like a genius!”

You stared at your paper. “Do I have to do this?”

“It's homework!”

“Ugh, fine.”

For a few minutes you worked in silence. It was so until Aegon, Aemond’s older brother by two years, came bounding down the stairs with their sister, Helaena, in tow.

“Give me back my butterfly!” She yelled at her older brother.

Aegon turned around and danced the stuffed butterfly in her face. “Whatcha’ gonna do about it?”

Helaena was near tears. “Please, Aegon!”

Huffing in frustration you turned to the one holding the butterfly hostage. “Give Helaena back her butterfly.”

“You're interrupting our homework time,” Aemond added.

“And Helaena needs her butterfly back, too,” you reminded him. 

“Quit being a bully and give it back.”

“Ugh, you're a bore,” Aegon drawled. He threw the butterfly at Helaena. “Here you go,” he mumbled.

Helaena held her butterfly tight to her chest. “Can I stay with you?” She asked you and Aemond.

You smiled brightly. “Yeah! We're working on homework right now so you can bring yours.”

Helaena bounded up the stairs to get her homework and was quick to come back. 

“Let's take a look at your homework,” said Aemond. He looked it over and hummed. “I don't think I can help you because I don't know how to do that math yet but you can still work with us.”

“Yay!” Helaena plopped down on a chair and held her butterfly in her lap as she worked on her homework.

You snuck a glance at Aemond. He worked hard on his school work. Always wanting to be the best, always wanting to be the smartest. Even as a child he had that drive. Back then you didn't know it, but you had fallen for Aemond Targaryen.

Two years later, you, Aemond, Helaena, and surprisingly Aegon, were as close as could be. You spent every weekend with them. Even if one of them was sick, it wasn't enough to keep you away.

“Sweetie, you're running a high fever,” Alicent, the siblings’ mother, told you. “You should go home.”

“But I want to be with my friends. And I don't want to see my mother,” you mumbled the last part.

Alicent nodded her head. She knew full well what you meant. Having her own history with your mother, Rhaeneyra, she didn't blame you for wanting to stay away. Rhaenyra and her husband Daemon, your step father, didn't care much for you. They cared for your brothers, Jace and Luke, but couldn't be bothered to look your way. Even then, Jace and Luke didn't get the full affection a child should have from their mother. They simply got more than you.

“My mother has a video conference today and I don't want to be there.” You crossed your arms to hug yourself.

Alicent sighed and ran a hand over your hair. “What about Jace and Luke, sweetie?”

“They're out with the dogs and Daemon. Something about training them to be the best.”

“And you didn't want to go with them?”

“No,” you pouted. “I'd rather be here with my friends.”

Footsteps came running down the stairs.

“Is she coming out to play?” Aegon asked his mother.

“I don't think so, she has a fever,” Alicent told him.

Helaena appeared behind Aegon. “Is she going back home?”

You shook your head before Alicent could answer for her.

“She is going to stay here but she's not going to play, okay?” She told her children.

They sighed. “Yes, mother.” And off they went back upstairs.

Alicent took a blanket from the couch next to you and draped it over you. “You know you are more than welcome to stay here at any time, sweetie. Just take it easy and rest.”

Closing your eyes, you settled into the loveseat and soon drifted away to sleep.

You awoke to a soft voice. “Hey? You awake?”

Mumbling something incoherent, you buried yourself deeper in the blankets. You were hot and cold at the same time and you hated it.

“I have soup.”

You pulled your head out of the blanket and slowly opened your eyes. Aemond was kneeling next to the loveseat with a bowl of broth.

“Soup is good to have when you're sick. I always have some when I'm sick so I thought you'd want some, too.”

Your stomach rumbled at the mention of food. As you pulled the blanket further down to your lap, you gratefully accepted the soup Aemond offered.

He was silent as you slowly slurped it down.

You looked at Aemond and found him smiling at you.

“What is it?” You asked when you finished your soup.

A bit of color dusted his cheeks. “Nothing.”

You handed him your empty bowl. “Thank you, Aemond. I feel better already.” 

Throwing off the blanket, you were ready to hop into action but Aemond stopped you.

“You're still sick!” 

“But I feel better,” you countered.

“You only feel better because you had soup. You still need to rest.”

You plopped back down on the loveseat and grabbed the blanket. “Fine.”

A comfortable silence fell between you two. You cuddled into a pillow next to you and played with the blanket.

Aemond broke the silence. “Can I stay with you?” 

You yawned. “Yeah.”

A few minutes passed.

���You can be on the chair if you want,” you told him.

Instead of answering, Aemond climbed onto the loveseat next to you and seated himself between you and the armrest. He sat with his back to you but enjoyed the company nonetheless. With your backs pressed together you were calm and happy. Happier than you've been in months.

Alicent was startled to see you and Aemond both asleep on the loveseat but wasn't surprised. She knew her son harbored feelings for you, even if they were buried. She hoped one day she would see the two of you happy. Childhood was not easy for either of you even though she did her best to make it easy. Carefully, she walked to the two of you and gently woke you up.

“Sweetie? I'm sorry, it's time to go home. I'll drop you off,” Alicent whispered to you.

“Can Aemond come?” 

“Of course he can.” She gave you a small smile.

You roused him from his sleep. “I need to go home, Aemond.”

“No,” he mumbled.

Alicent sighed before reasoning with him. “Aemond, it's late and I'm sure her mother is looking for her. You can come with me to drop her off.”

He mumbled something you couldn't hear but got up nevertheless. As he did, he made sure not to hit you and helped you out of the loveseat as well.

As you stretched, a large groan came out of your mouth. There was still sleep in your eyes and you really didn’t want to go back home. You looked at Aemond and caught his eye. He offered a small smile that you gladly returned. Even though you were sick, Aemond made you feel better just by being there. When you were both asleep it took everything in your power not to cuddle up to him. His warmth was pulling at you but you didn’t want to get him sick, too.

Alicent nudged you and Aemond to the car but you were both slow. You still weren't feeling the best and Aemond just seemed groggy.

The car ride to your house was silent. Both Alicent and Aemond knew you didn't enjoy going home; it was like a prison to you.

But they couldn't keep you forever. 

One day you’d break out of that prison.

By the time you were thirteen you had grown closer to Aemond, Helaena, and Aegon. It wasn’t unusual for you to spend weekends at their house or for you to go there after school. Their home was a second home for you and Alicent was basically your surrogate mother. 

One day, your mother wanted to visit Alicent. She was insistent that this had to be done today.  Alicent, being too kind to decline anything, allowed her, you, and your brothers to spend the day with them. When you saw Aemond, you immediately went to him and left your brothers behind. You heard them huff about how lame of a sister you were but you pretended like you didn’t hear them at all. 

“We’re just about to have breakfast, if you’d like to join us,” offered Alicent after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“That would be lovely,” your mother said as she gave her a sickly sweet smile. 

There was something off about her but you couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

All of you, children included, sat around the table in a tense silence. The only sounds were the occasional slurp, chew, or the ring of utensils hitting a plate or bowl.

“Alicent,” your mother started. “I came here to talk to you. I think we need to put our past behind us.”

You tilted your head in confusion.

Alicent leaned forward and whispered, “This isn’t the time and place to be talking about it.”

“There is no time and place so I decided to make one. Let’s bury the hatchet; be friends again. You know I never meant to hurt you.”

“You never meant to hurt me?” Alicent laughed coldly. “And what hatchet? You mean the one where you left -” She suddenly stopped. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head and cleared her throat. “How about you children go play in the backyard. Go jump on the trampoline or play knights and princesses.”

“Yes, mother,” Aemond replied. He quickly grabbed your hand and dragged you outside.

The other children left at various speeds. Helaena and Aegon neadered out towards the back while Jace and Luke wanted to stay with your mother. The two boys were concerned about her. They always were and always would be. Eventually, your mother was able to shoo your brothers away. It was only then that they made it outside with the rest of you.

It was tense at first. You all just stood there and stared at each other. You wish you could say you were close with your brothers to help ease the moment but that would be a lie. You were as distant from them as much as a sister could be. Sure, you lived with them, but they never really included you in anything. Whenever they did anything with your step father, he would only bring the boys and not you.

“So…” you let the word die. “What do you want to do? I like jumping on the trampoline when I’m here.”

“Of course you have a favorite thing to do here. You’re not at home a lot,” Jace said.

You balled up your fists at your side. “At least here I have people I can talk to.”

“Luke and I aren’t enough?”

“You never let me play with you! I’m always by myself, so yes, I come here a lot.”

“We would let you play with us if you weren’t so weird!”

“I’m not weird, I’m your sister. If I’m weird then you’re weird, too.”

Jace looked like he was about to bust, his face all red.

Aegon stepped between you two before anyone could say anything bad. “Let’s deal with this the best way. Stick fight.”

“Stick fight?” Luke piped up.

“Yeah.” Aegon grinned. “A stick fight. Find a stick on the ground to use as your sword and we’ll fight for the hand of this girl.”

“Ew, for my hand?” You made a disgusted face.

“For your honor, whatever,” Aegon corrected himself. “Now, who shall fight whom?”

You grabbed Helaena’s hand. “Helaena and I are staying out of this one.”

“Boo, okay,” Aegon frowned. “That leaves me and Aemond versus Jace and Luke!”

Luke stepped forward, his chest puffed out in an attempt to look intimidating. “I’ll take on Aegon.”

Aegon nearly burst out laughing. “Okay, little guy,  I’ll fight you. That means Aemond fights Jace.”

Jace’s stare burned into Aemond’s. You knew this was dangerous, letting the boys fight, but apparently it was the only way either pair could find peace when it came to you. Aemond and Aegon wanted to fight for your honor and Jace and Luke wanted to show you that your friends were weak. 

“You get five minutes to find your stick sword!” Helaena announced. “Ready…and…go!”

The boys sprinted off in different directions hoping to find the biggest, baddest stick sword in the backyard. That in itself was massive so finding a stick would be no big deal for them. Finding a good one is a different story, however.

Looping your arm around Helaena’s, you strolled around watching the boys dart back and forth. It was entertaining to watch them run around like this. You found yourself specifically following Aemond. Blushing at the mere thought of him, you turned away.

“What has you all red?” Helaena asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You tried to wave it off.

Helaena looked to where your focus once was. “Ah.”

“Stop it, Helaena, he might see!” You tried to get her to look back at you.

A small smile played across her lips. “You have a crush on Aemond.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Oh, my goodness.”

Helaena squealed, “Oh, I knew it! You two are always so close and always together and -”

You grabbed Helaena by the shoulders. “You can’t tell him, okay? Pinky swear?”

Her shoulders dropped when she saw the seriousness on your face. “Fine. I pinky swear.” 

Holding one pinky up in the air, Healena intertwined hers and made the promise. “Do you promise to not tell Aemond Targaryen that I have a crush on him?” you began.

“I swear that I will not tell my brother you have a crush on him,” Helaena promised.

Once you let go you breathed a sigh of relief but still kept an eye on Helaena. She wasn't malicious or anything, but the happiness of her younger brother has always been a priority for her. The possibility of you being someone he could be happy with had her vibrating with excitement.

Together, the two of you continued to watch the boys dart about to find their sticks. You couldn't help but follow Aemond. His hair was getting closer to his shoulders and it bounced behind him as he ran around. At one point, Aemond and Aegon met up in the middle to talk about which stick would be better but Jace and Luke yelled at them for planning, so they dispersed. When you saw Jace and Luke do the same thing, you were tempted to call them out but held back. Leaning against Helaena, you let out a pleasant sigh as the boys wrapped up their five minutes.

Jace and Luke stood facing Aegon and Aemond. Both sides looked at the other with such hatred they were practically smoking. It was no secret that Aegon and Aemond didn’t like Jace and Luke. Aegon and Aemond didn’t like how your brothers, how your whole family, treated you. You were constantly discarded in favor of the two sons and it wore you out. You did your best to hide it but the Targaryen siblings knew better. Jace and Luke didn’t like how close you were with the Targaryens siblings. Sure, they were related in some weird way but being related doesn’t mean that the relationship was automatically good or healthy. You were a prime example of that.

Aegon took a step towards the other two boys. “Ready to lose, losers?”

“As if!” piped up Luke. “I’m gonna beat you so bad!”

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Sure, little guy.” He looked back at his brother then at the other two. “Are we ready to start?”

Jace crouched down in a fighting position. “We were born ready. Both fights at the same time?”

“Yeah.” Aegon nodded his head. “You and Aemond will fight over there,” he pointed towards the trampoline. “And me and Luke will fight by that big tree.” He turned towards you and Helaena. “Will you two referee the fights?”

“And how do we do that?” you asked him.

“All you have to do is stand there and make sure no one goes for the face or,” he gestured to his crotch. “And whoever is on the ground for three seconds loses.”

You looked at Helaena. “I think we can do that.”

She nodded her head. “I’ll watch over Aemond and Jace.” She brought her voice down to a whisper, “Aemond would distract you too much.”

You bumped her with your shoulder. “Oh, whatever.” But the blush was already forming on your cheeks.

“Okay,” Aegon clapped his hands. “Let’s these stick fights going.”

You followed Aegon and Luke to the big oak tree. Both boys were buzzing with excitement, both ready to hit each other. There was a lot of pent up aggression apparently. When you got to the tree each boy stood facing each other about. They held their sticks up like swords and crossed them in the middle. There was a distinct height difference but you knew Luke wouldn’t let that get in the way.

“On the count of three start fighting,” you instructed them. 

Both Aegon and Luke gave you an affirmative nod. 

“One…Two…Three…FIGHT!”

Aegon and Luke reeled back their sticks only to meet each other in the center once again. They pushed in on each other, forcing the other to back off and lose their balance, but they each held their own. 

“Remember, the one who ends up on the ground for three seconds loses!” you reminded them.

Aegon took one hand off his stick to push Luke backwards. They weren’t locked in a standing battle anymore. Aegon smiled a wicked smile as he took a few steps back to gauge what he would do next. Luke breathed hard, taking the push back a little harder than you anticipated. He was frowning but determination was written all over his face. 

“Aw, was that push a little too hard?” Aegon taunted him. He played with his stick, swinging it around.

“I’m. Going. To. Kill. You.” Luke breathed out.

Laughing, Aegon ran at Luke with his stick brandished and ready to hit. He swung hard and hit Luke in the arm. He pulled back and hit him again on the opposite arm.

Luke flinched whenever he was hit but he still refused to back down. Aegon’s constant attacking caused him to take many steps back, he was almost flush against the oak tree. But when Aegon took a big swing, Luke ducked low and went for Aegon’s legs. He swept him off his feet and then got on top of him to keep him from getting up.

“How’s that for being little?” Luke bragged.

Aegon roared and flipped them over so Luke was the one pressed on the ground. 

Luke screamed. “Ahhhh!”

Their sticks forgotten, Luke and Aegon wrestled on the ground. They kept flipping each other over so neither was down for three seconds. After tussling on the ground for a minute or so, Aegon was able to stand up. Luke followed right behind him. He took a few steps back then ran straight at Aegon, tackling him. Luke was so small, though, that his tackle did nothing but force Aegon to take a few steps back. 

Aegon cackled. “This all you got?” He pushed Luke off of him then tackled him to the ground.

This time, Luke was pinned down. He flailed but couldn’t get any hit on Aegon. Aegon soon had all his limbs trapped on the grass. 

“Call it!” Aegon yelled at you.

“One! Two! Three! Luke, you’re out!” you announced.

Aegon got off of Luke and offered him a hand. Luke merely glared at him and got up himself. Grass stains littered both of the boys’ clothes, something neither mother would be happy about. Luke grumbled something about cheating and walked off to the other stick fight by the trampoline. Aegon fell in time with you as you also made your way in that direction.

From what you could see, Aemond and Jace were in a heated battle. They hadn’t lost their sticks, unlike Aegon and Luke. It was as though you were watching a true sword fight. They lunged and parried like they’ve been training for this their entire lives. 

“She’s gonna leave you behind, one day. She’ll figure out how boring you are!” Jace yelled at Aemond.

“She’s always liked us better than you. You might be her brother but you treat her like crap!” Aemond shot back.

You were confused. They were fighting about you?

Jace let out a primal scream as he ran at Aemond, ready to thrust the stick into him. Aemond blocked it and was able to disarm Jace. 

“No!” cried Luke.

Jace, empty handed, stepped backwards away from Aemond. Aemond took his time, stepping slowly. Head slightly bent, he looked at Jace through his eyelashes. He had a sinister look on his face. 

“She’s always deserved better. We’re better than you and Luke will ever be to her. You will regret all the times you’ve made her feel like less than nothing.” Dropping his stick, Aemond charged at Jace and tackled him to the ground.

Helaena started her count down. “One! Two!”

There was a blur, some scuffling, and the next thing you knew, Aemond was screaming with a giant cut up through the side of his face and over his eye.

You and Helaena shrieked at the sight of blood running down Aemond’s face. Immediately, you ran to him. Your eyes went to Jace but he was still on the ground breathing hard. What you saw next to him, however, shook you. Luke was kneeling next to his brother with a bloodied stick. Blood lightly splattered his clothes as well.

“LUKE!” Aegon roared. “What the fuck did you do to my brother?” He picked up Luke by his collar and threw him to the ground.

“Hey! Don’t hurt my little brother!” Jace got up in Aegon’s face. 

He reeled back a fist and was ready to throw it but you grabbed his fist. 

“Stop it, both of you! We need to get Aemond inside,” you pleaded.

“He got what was coming to him,” muttered Jace.

Ignoring the bickering boys, you gathered Aemond in your arms. He was a little heavy for you but you were able to carry him. “Keep your hand on your eye,” you told him. There wasn’t anything for you to use to staunch the bleeding. “Helaena, go get your mother.”

Helaena simply gave you a small nod before racing off to find her mother. Aegon was still yelling at Jace and Luke but was holding himself back. You could tell that much just from hearing them argue. When Aemond groaned you did your best to pick up the pace and get to the house.

“I wanted to make him pay,” he said weakly.

“Shh. It’s okay,” you assured him.

A scream pierced through the air. Looking up, you saw Alicent rushing towards you. 

“Give me my boy, I need to get him to the emergency room.” Alicent looked at you children. “What happened?” She asked as she took Aemond from your arms.

“They were playing stick fights,” Helaena said quietly.

Alicent glared at the boys. “You will have to do a lot of explaining. Now, quickly, to the car.”

You and Helaena ran to the car while Jace and Luke stayed behind. Their mother slowly walked out of the house. She saw Alicent holding Aemond and concern flashed across her face but was soon replaced by indifference.

“Boys, it’s time to go home. I can see that we are not needed here anymore,” she called to them.

While you didn’t want to go with your family, you asked anyway, “What about me?”

“Don’t you want to stay with your other family?” your mother spat at you. “Come home whenever you’re done here.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes but you blinked them back. You could deal with your family later. What mattered first was Aemond.

When you got to the car, Alicent already had it running. Aemond was slouched in the passenger side seat in the front. You, Helaena, and Aegon squeezed in the back, all three of you worried for Aemond. Looking ahead, you could barely see Aemond. Every now and then he would groan but that was it. Alicent would look at him then back at the road. Normally, she was a very safe driver, and she still was as she drove to the emergency room, but she went fast this time.

Arriving at the emergency room, Alicent quickly parked then scooped Aemond out the passenger seat and ran to the entrance. She went straight to the front desk. You and the siblings scrambled out of the car behind her.

“Please, my son, I think he was stabbed in the eye,” she pleaded with the front desk lady.

The lady took a look at Aemond. “Remove your hand for a second, sweetie,” she said softly.

You gently took Aemond’s wrist and pried it off of his eye. Seeing all the blood, you gasped. There was so much of it. It didn’t seem like the flow stopped, only slowed down.

“Yes, we’ll take him in immediately,” the lady said. “Nurses! We need a stretcher over here now! Child with massive head injury!”

Nurses quickly surrounded Alicent and Aemond. They took him from her arms and placed him gently on the stretcher. Without his hand covering his face, you could see the jagged scar on Aemond. Your heart tightened at the sight of it. Aemond being hurt was the last thing you wanted. He got hurt defending you and that was something you’d have to carry for the rest of your life. You watched as they wheeled him away to the back. There was silence.

“It’ll probably be a long wait,” the front desk lady told Alicent. “You’re more than welcome to stay and wait for him but be prepared.”

“Yes, thank you,” Alicent replied. “Come along, children.” 

She ushered you and Helaena and Aegon further into the waiting room. Luckily, there was an open semi comfortable couch for you all to sit on. You and Alicent sat in the middle. Helaena sat next to her mother and Aegon plopped down next to you. In the rush to get Aemond to the emergency room, no one brought anything to pass the time. Instead you all sat there quietly for a few minutes before Alicent broke the silence.

“I need you to tell me what happened, exactly what happened,” she requested.

“Like Heleaena said, they were playing stick fights,” you started off. “When we first got outside my brothers were being mean to me and Aemond and Helaena and Aegon. That made us all upset so Aegon came up with the idea to do stick fights. Helaena and I didn’t do any fighting; it was just the boys.”

“I don’t like how her brothers talk about her. They act like she’s not even their sister,” Aegon murmured. 

Helaena picked up the story. “It was Aegon against Luke and Aemond against Jace. Everything was relatively okay, I think. No one got too badly hurt until everyone joined to watch Aemond and Jace fight.”

“I heard Jace,” you added in. “He was telling Aemond how I’d leave you all, how I’d forget you and never come back.” Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes for the second time that evening. “I would never leave all of you.”

“I know you wouldn't.” Alicent brushed back a stray hair. 

“Aemond gained the upper hand. He was gonna win. He got Jace’s stick out of his hand and he was gonna tackle him to win it. But then out of nowhere, Like came in with a pointy stick and slashed Aemond's face.”

Aegon huffed. “He didn’t want to see his brother lose like him.”

Helaena shushed her brother.

“And now we're here,” you concluded. “I know my mom saw Aemond and the blood on Luke. She didn't seem concerned at all.”

“No, she did not,” agreed Alicent.

“I’m sorry my mother treats you like she treats me sometimes.”

“You don't need to apologize for her, sweetie. She is a grown woman and should know how to act better.”

A calm silence fell upon all of you once again. All of you were worried but knew there was nothing to be done except to wait.

[territorial-utopia]

Huzzah! It's birthday time! I'm slowly accumulating more and more things I like (latest additions this vest I made and a travel typewriter! Still need to fix the latter one though)

Sure has been a year.

[scruncheduppaper]

can we talk abt how insanely hot kabru is

ive probably posted these a billion times before but idc. hes got everything. this brown twink is so pretty idk im pretty sure if he smiled at me with those fucking eyes id fold immediately. i get why hes popular with the ladies (im falling for it oh no) hes just the right amount of a bit freaky and silly for him to still be human. hes a gentleman when he needs to be and hes actually a really fucking kind human being at the same time like hes a genuinely nice guy

most of all though i think his ruthless mind and sharp analytical skills (in terms of humans) is just the most appealing to me. the way his brain ticks and the descriptions of his thinking process is like the equivalent to fanservice panty shots or whatever. i like seeing him covered in blood ohhh my god i get ppl simping over falin in that scene but i think kabru stabbing her made my stomach do flips. do you understand. i would Let him psychoanalyse me and/or stab me. in fact id encourage him to do it. it’d probably be hot. kabru please reject me so i can move on with my life. i understand rin so fucking bad (i love her too btw)

this is not a general post. this is personal. this is my account i can say whatever i want idc idk im like rlly tired rn. kap. kapru

anyways too tired to draw properly today have a little doodle. i might make an edit of him later

[pr]

can you imagine getting diagnosed w like top 3 worst mental disorders ever and then everyone on the internet is like "you are untreatable you are a monster" like oopsies sorry ive gotten better and took the meds i needed and gotten the therapy and i am thriving<3 is my humanity still non-negotiable or

[puppyeared]

for like 3 weeks i was wondering why i was sleeping so much and felt listless. and just now I managed to email 3 people and responded to a month old message in the span of an hour because I got back to TAKING MY FUCKIN MEDS..........

[theworldisabrokenbonebutitishome]

I have the feeling the @guardianbingo coordinators weren't hoping for 'Zhao Yunlan accepting his fate' fills when they decided on acceptance for the May bonus prompt but here I am... *hides*

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I was just listening to a song I used to love while we were friends. I listened to it so often, we talked so often, it became the background music to our relationship.

I'm listening to it while I knit. I often forget that I started knitting because of you. I remembered tonight. It's strange, I never knitted anything for you. I've knitted for other loved ones, rarely for myself, but never for you. I remembered you showing me the amazing things you made, and I wished I could get to that level of skill. But at that time, you had to explain to me how to purl because I couldn't get it.

Everything reminds me of you in a terrible way. Everything I do is an echo of you. I started painting so that I could paint for you. I started knitting to bond with you. I hear your voice in the music I listen to. You're haunting the things that I love. Will I ever make a brush stroke or stitch without you on my mind?

[fettery-fetterie]

GIRL HELP WDYM I REACHED 30 TAGS??????? OMG???? I WASN'T EVEN DONE YET

ANYWAYS 31st: and that compared to a relationship where the communication lines are basically none or very fucking weak then yeah it is an upgrade I think. Idfk I was never in a relationship I'm just picking from the ones I've seen in my life

[featureenvyproductions]

Going to forever keep advertising my shit with tropes because do I have to? No. Am I too "stupid" to do it another way? No, not really. And as you've all seen, I also am perfectly capable of writing real blurbs and do write real blurbs. But I think it's fun to make the pic with the tropes anyway and have that around too. And also it keeps the pretentious people away. The sort who don't understand reading is not always for taking a "discomfort" vitamin because they A) are privileged enough to not have discomfort every day of their life to need to escape from or B) are fresh out of college and haven't discovered the joys of/have been shamed OUT of reading as a fun low pressure thing they can do to escape when they're fucking tired (and they think this sort of thing is new with fanfic and not more or less how "trash" lit like romance novels are marketed), as opposed to reading as some sort of Moral Duty To Be Deep that was instilled in them by a middle aged straight white English professor who thinks one can fulfill this by writing 10 pages about books where people scream at each other, have affairs with young women, or Make Up A Guy to warn people about things that Could Happen (that *cough* already happen to marginalized people *cough*) Anyway it's my version of a scarecrow. Firing shots to keep the rent low. Come take a seat next to me in the dumpster my fellow raccoons.

[pepprs]

june 27th give it up for june 27th

[depresseddepot]

the way i try so SO hard to gain even a crumb of body neutrality only to then see some shit on twitter that remind me that oh yeah. a distinct portion of the population genuinely believes they are being discriminated against when they have to look at or be within 50 feet of a fat person

[catboii]

checking if some1 still follows me despite my weird fucking posts and finding out they do is wiiiiiiiiiild

[real-life-cloud]

:) 🧡