#the age old question... XD

[slashingdisneypasta]

Not everyone made the cut, I wanted to put in the Sinclair's, too, but I only have 12 slots! You're welcome to explain your choice in the comments/tags, but no abusing other people for their taste please!! Keep it friendly ^^ XD

Please reblog! I want to get a big sample size, here XD

[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:

@joemama-2 @erencvlt @pickuptruck01 @hanakotateyama @nuronhe

@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

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

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

@satoryaa @gojodickbig @v4mpieres @reinam00n @sleepyyammy

@haikomaiko @tbzzluvr @myahfig4 @arabelluhhh4200 @bloopsstuff

@nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf @badbclub @blackunecorn @geniejunn @n0tviv

@verystrawberryhottub @iheartshopping @peonysfordayz @dreamsxmerci @aishies-stuff

@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

[violetscanfly]

long post alert

Marleyan Hange au

I've wanted to try my hand at a Marley au for ages and well I have been doing it for ages too because this got way out of hand lmao, like this is part one out of at least three (that's how far I've drawn), probably more if I follow my plan to go over the whole canon in little vignettes like these.

| next part | animatic

There's a bit (a lot) of yapping about the au itself under the cut if you want some context:

First of all disclaimer this isn't like super thought out in the logic sense and when you spot plot holes just uh ignore them ig xD this whole thing started from me just wanting to draw a few specific scenes

So basically Hange is born and raised in Marley, trained into a warrior and sent to scout out Paradis a few years before the Marley kids in canon do. In the pic there's a little bit of their childhood, they and Zeke are friends and I gave them a little sister for reasons:)

Hange's parents are fanatically loyal to Marley and so were they before they actually were sent out to war as a warrior candidate and saw how Marley uses eldians as disposable weapons, which caused them to question how things were and become kind of disillusioned. They kept their true feelings to themself and continued going along with it, feeling that gaining honorary status for their family is the best thing they could do for them and it would give their sister Essie a peaceful life.

After they come back from the war they and Zeke are promoted to warriors, Zeke gets the beast titan and Hanged gets... Also the beast titan?? Or maybe jaw I really don't know XD (here's kinda the biggest plothole so if you're super attached to the canon lore and rules I'm sorry idgaf I'm just here to draw freaky titan and put blorbo in situations so there's an extra titan now) anyway it's based on a hyena, I also thought about a kangaroo but that felt too powerful, imagine that thing jumping super high and slamming down to cause an earthquake or something.

Anyway Hange is sent to Paradis to look for the coordinate. They immediately fall in love with odm-gear the minute they see it since they're still their ever curious scientist self. This leads them to join the military, though they justify it to themself by researching what the enemy can do. They find that they actually really like life on Paradis, not the least because they can be their true self and most people accept them as they are, whereas in Marley they had to assimilate to stricter gender roles.

Eventually a certain Levi is scouted into joining the survey corps and Hange's immediately interested in him (totally for research purposes, yeah) and it takes a while but suddenly they realise Levi is their closest friend and maybe not just a friend anymore, which seems mutual but they dance around the subject until Levi's had enough and just straight up kisses them. They get together and on the other hand Hange is the happiest they've ever been but on the other they're panicking inside cause they know this can't last and the guilt is eating them up

Canon happens pretty much as it does, Reiner & co are sent to Paradis cause Hange has taken too long without presenting results. Once the kids are in the military Hange makes sure they don't blow Hange's cover even when the kids are revealed to be titans. The Marley kids are shocked when they realise Hange is in a relationship with Levi and have differing opinions on it, but Hange can be scary when they want to to shut their questions down

Shit has been going down, it's the night before they'll leave for Shiganshina and Hange knows this is the last peaceful time they're going to spend with Levi, because tomorrow they're going to have to go back to their old life and fulfill their mission.

[mellosdrawings]

I'd like to hear more about Holden! Especially what his dynamic is with the Octavinelle trio and Noah, because y'know, pirate and merfolk, lots of fun there XD Captain Hook is like the Disney villain that I most want to see a twisted version of in game, so I always get excited when I see OCs of Hook

Oh, Holden. What a mess of a person he ended up being. I didn't expect him to end up being one of those with the most trauma. And I dunno if he's really what you'd expect considering I went a... certain way with him ^^'

Holden Jameson

[redacted age], 2nd year

Heartslabyul

Human from the Shaftlands

He/him

Boardgame club

Based on Captain Hook

Signature Spell: A Happy Little Thought

-this is a time spell that only works on his own body

-it allows him to revert back to a child or to age into an old man, and anything in between

-it technically allows him to heal faster, but should he become younger again there is a very real risk of landing on a time he was wounded if the wound was consequent enough

-should anything happen to a certain limb *wink wink* at a certain point in the past *wink* then reverting back to an age prior to it will give his limb back, but reaching the time he lost said limb and further will automatically make it disappear

-he cannot chose one body part to use his UM on, it only works on his whole body

Real life Peter Pan Syndrome

When he was 5, Holden was “kidnapped” by mischievous children faes. He lived among them for ten years before his sudden growth made the faes ostracize him. They abandoned him in a crocodiles’ pit and left him for dead. When Holden found his way back home, he had not aged a second despite everybody around him being ten years older than when he left.

This happened [redacted] years ago. Holden has since been stuck in a loop of his own making, inadvertently reverting to a child whenever he threatens to turn into an adult. This cycle has already happened at least [redacted] times. Holden's own mental age oscillates anywhere between 5, 15, 25, and 40 years old depending on his stability, and his physical body does not always reflect his mental age.

His mother enabled him too. Traumatized from having lost her child so young, she never questioned how he could be back looking exactly the same as when she lost him, raising him as she should have done all those years back. When he regressed for the first time, she went along with it and simply raised him all over again, feeding into this cycle. It only ended when she died of old age.

A proper gentleman who follows the rules

If one could claim the Queen of Hearts’ throne in Riddle’s place, it would be Holden. Ever since he lost his arm, he has been following a very detailed schedule to the letter and has considered rules as most sacred. Missing an appointment makes him meltdown, breaking a rule angers him. He is very picky on every single detail. While he doesn't hold others to the same level of perfectionism he holds himself to, he does get annoyed when others outright disregard common courtesy and he will take matter in his own hand(s) when big transgressions happen.

Tick-tock

Despite Holden’s obsession with proper schedule, he has a huge phobia of analog clocks. The mere sound of one is enough to have him panic into uselessness. He also has a phobia of scaly creatures, mostly crocodiles, and a near phobic approach to neatness and germs.

Faes

His past experiences with faes make him especially scathing towards any he meets, and the Diasomnia crew gets it the worst. Malleus constantly missing appointments and being unable to keep track of time especially gets on Holden's nerves. He also has a very hard time with Sebek who leans hard into his fae legacy and has enough crocodile elements to himself to make Holden uneasy.

Prosthetic

The day Holden loses his hand is the day his time loop inadvertently resets. After a... forceful wake-up call, he ended up getting a prosthetic in replacement. Holden absolutely despises it and tends to hide his hand under gloves or behind his back.

Sea and merfolk

Holden's father was a renown sea captain and has brought him on his adventures many times when Holden's mother calmed down enough to let him out of his sight. While everything else in Holden's life is the way it is out of necessity or propriety (or fear), ships and the sea are the one things Holden genuinely loves and actively attempts to learn more about. He knows how to pilot ships, know sea roads by heart, and has a very wide understanding of marine life. Contrary to his hatred for faes, Holden is always ready to hear more about merfolks. He still has a bit of a hard time with Noah and Floyd because of how carefree they are, but Jade's decorum and Azul's capacity to bend the rules without ever breaking them have all his attention.

Random facts:

-he's OCD. Completely.

-like, he's just anxious 24/7, his calm facade is just too good for people to realize

-he's a viscount from his mother's side

-he has many fencing medals and regularly trains with Silver

-he is rather sympathetic with Silver's situation but is completely baffled that Silver loves his fae entourage so much

-when he's panicking, he picks at his hair and scalp to the point he nearly tears chunks of hair off

-he is surprisingly good at sewing

-one of his (many) contradictory behaviors is that he both hates and loves cacophony

-he is VERY critical of childish behaviors

-he would be completely lost without his aide, Simon

[flamingpudding]

Cassiopea and Orion #2

Previous Part

A/N: I probably shouldn't be thinking up so many different story lines. But my mind won't let me focuse on something else in peace unless I write these snippets and parts out. So here have another part XD I still have a whole Danny and Bruce backstory conversation in my head that I will probably write out at some point too.

"Really B, another one?" A red helmet wearing guy huffed the moment he spotted her, the little black haired blue eyed girl, sitting on a railing by a huge computer set up Ellie was sure Uncle Tuck would have drooled over.

She blinked at the new arrival before her eyes went over to the man. The one she had told that Phantom lost his haunt. When she had spoken these words the air around the man had changed. Before Ellie even really knew what was happening, the man had turned away from her, talking to the still tense boy before whisking the both of them away to a cave. The place she was now, and one after another more and more of the weirdly dressed people showed up. Each of them appeared to feel the need to comment on something, Ellie heavily believed to be an inside joke.

She let her eyes wander over all the arrivals, her fingers nervously drumming on the metal of the railing she was sitting on. Watching them carefully, despite what Danny had told her, she would bold at the first sight of danger from them. They didn't appear to have any ecto-weapons but that could be false impression. Like the GIW. They had appeared so incompetent only to do a 180 decades later.

"So what is going on? Is B printing adoption papers already?" The red and black one appeared to joke and Ellie tilted her head. There definitely was a insider joke she was not aware of. It would be weird to ask them about it wouldn't it? It would also be rude and tactless. Danny and Aunt Jazz had tried to teach her to not always blurt out every question that pops up in her head. Key words, not always.

"Why would the furry need adoption papers?"

She blinked at how a couple of the people broke out laughing while the kid, who had been watching her like a hawk, was now full on shooting daggers at her. She was pretty sure the kid would have thrown a literal one at her, but something as keeping them from doing so. She heard a grunt, and her eyes went back to the man that had brought her here.

"Not necessary." The man muttered as he turned to face them, clicking a key on the keyboard of the computer, and Ellie blinked as an image of Phantom popped up on screen. The people laughing appeared to quiet down now. "She already has a father."

"Mom." Ellie automatically corrected, shrugging when they looked at her. Before everything had gone to shits and Danny's capture, he had become quiet the mother hen, especially with Dan's and her de-aging. The constant mothering and worry about their well-being had caused Dan to joke that Danny was acting like a mother and she had continued to run with that joke. Even after they had to put Dan into a frozen state under Frostbites care in Far Frozen. The two had silently agreed on that Danny was their mom. The past didn't matter and she would honour their silent sibling agreement.

She didn't elaborate any further and they seemed to get that as they turned back to the man by the computer, putting their attention on that. Though she did noticed that the other kids eyes lingered on her longer.

"This is Phantom. A ghost hero stationed at Amity Park. Code: Rho, one of Cassiopea's dying stars." The man paused, and Ellie swore he had looked at her under his cowl. "And this girl's, Elliza Danielle Phantom Nightingale's, mother. Code: Jupiter, the wandering star."

"How do you know my full name?! Plus, my only recently added ones! They are like only a month old! And what about these weird Codes?" She blurred out wide-eyed, staring at the man in bat costume.

"Even if sparse Phantom and I stayed in contact using these codes." And Ellie narrowed her eyes at him. "Doesn't answer my question."

"Actually, B we would also like to know more." One of the onlookers, that's what Ellie decided they were for now, piped up.

Bat guy grunted, staring them down but not answering. The onlooker in blue sighed but Ellie wasn't giving in. She crossed her arms, keeping her balance by floating slightly on the railing.

"Look, you big bad bee, if you can't tell me that, then how am I supposed to trust you to help me, let alone the rescue of Da- Phantom!"

The onlookers snickered as she held her little staring contest with the big bad bee. Jokes on that guy she had held staring contests with Frighty before and he doesn't even remember how to blink at times.

"Phantom and I correspond about various topics since our teen years." The bat guy finally admitted. "One of which was about... our children."

Ellie blinked several times. Until her eyes widened in realization and she pointed an accusing finger at bat guy. "You're the one that kept calling Danny about parent advice! Like how he got me to go to online school and prevented me from sneaking out or how he handled Dan's anger tantrums!"

"Wait... B went to someone other than Agent A for parent advice?" The red and black onlooker questioned and Ellie shrugged. Danny had always been sort of parenting her since he was 16 and Dan once they learned he was aging lower and then the de-aging happened. She did remember that Danny got his first phone call about parent advice when he was around 24.

Now that Ellie thought about it. That was also around the time he took her aside to tell her about the emergency code.

"Which one of us do you guys think was the cause?"

"Wing."

"Hood."

"Demon Brat."

Ellie blinked once more, her attention turning back to the onlookers as thet started to argue among themselves. She tilted her head, watching them. Looks like she accidentally got them off topic. Though now she really wanted to get the story out of Danny once they rescued him. For years she had caught snippets of Danny's phone calls, to think that the guy on the other end was a armored spandex wearing furry. She couldn't wait to tell Dan about that.

Well, once their mom was saved and her brother stabilized again.

[floating-goblin-art]

Hi, so I hope this question doesn't break any boundaries, it's just a genuine question I have.

So I never really understood what exactly is meant with the minors dni in your bio, like I know the technical meaning :minors do not interact,but like I find that to be a big vague, like is it more of a content warning for NSFW or a "minors don't look or otherwise interact with my art"?.

Does it make a difference if the minor is 14 or 17?

It's just something that has been confusing me for a long time.

Sincerely a minor who liked a lot of your art before seeing the dni.

Have a good day

So mainly what I mean is don't look at/follow my whole blog because there's NSFW on it

But if you're browsing a tag and find SFW art and you want to interact with it, obviously I don't expect you to check every artist's profile to see whether they have a minors DNI or not. That'd be ridiculous and also meanspirited

Contrary to popular belief I do care for kids and think y'all deserve to be treated fairly xD

I don't think it makes much difference the actual age of said minor in this case, though I'd ESPECIALLY warn 14 year olds to stay away. With 17 year olds one can say, "well what's the big difference between someone a few months shy of 18, isn't that still about the same level of maturity?" And yeah I guess you're almost there at 17, but still, wait and protect yourself and protect creators as well, bc it can go into legal issues and it makes a lot of us uncomfortable/scared to post

In short, much like IRL, we can't rely on policing the internet. It should be a sense of community for kids to stay together in kid spaces, and adults to have their own spaces where they can get NSFW. This is not out of any disdain I have towards kids, in fact my instagram (@floating_goblin if you're interested) is strictly SFW because I want everyone to be able to enjoy my art and because I have friends who are minors. It's normal, y'all shouldn't be isolated from the rest of society. Just don't go in the spaces reserved for adults ok?

[kawaiikenna]

I love how in fics with immortal Danny he has like 5 valid ages. Like the bat fam ask him how old he is and he asks in what way. Like since my birth? Biologically in my human form?(if there is slowed or stopped ageing) In ghost terms? Historically? Mentally? They are all different answers imma need a more specific question. The answer varies greatly

Danny’s just like, “Please follow this little choice tree for your answer.” Before handing them said choice tree. It also serves as a sort of FAQ for all of those follow-up questions people always ask. He’s got this down to a science. ;3 If they still end up having questions he’ll pull out the timeline with very specific answers and evidence for when and how he shows up in the timeline(s). There’s a whole fuckin hour long slideshow on this shit, he has the time and he’s that petty. XD

[spectre-azula]

LACKADAISY OC🐈‍⬛

Hey y'all! Just want to share two of my characters here, you're welcome to collaborate and be friends with them 🪄

Harkin Väsäinen🌹

“Brains aren’t just for thoughts—they’re for feelings too.”

Bonnabelle Väsäinen☀️

"I was reading about hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia when I realized that if I say extra-long words, the important person will probably give me a cookie to keep me quiet. That’s definitely how negotiation works, right?"

I have other information and details about them but just click it down below to proceed only if you want to know them more ✨

Introduction:

Name: Dr. Harkin Väsäinen

Age: 32

Height/Weight: 5"10 / 154 lbs

Voice/Accent: Low, calm voice with a Finnish accent

Cat Symbolism: Siberian Cat – intelligent, cool-tempered, loyal

Appearance:

Lean but toned build

Slightly sunken violet eyes

Sharp jawline, soft cheekbones

Prefers button-downs, vests, long coats/lab coats, muted pastels

Has mild oculocutaneous albinism

Likes:

Lemon tea

Stargazing with Bonnie

Candied lemon peels

Reading rare books

Dislikes:

Loud disruptions

Overbearing people

Adults who talk down to children

Hobbies:

Journaling case notes

Organizing books by obscure systems or reading

Tasting Lemons (actual Lemons!)

Personality:

Harkin is a man of quiet depth and ironclad gentleness. There is a certain stillness to him—the kind found in snow-covered forests, or libraries where only the ticking of a clock can be heard. His words are meaningful, stitched with care and precision. As a psychiatrist private practitioner himself—he listens more than he speaks, but when he does speak, his voice carries a soft authority that hushes a room. By age 23, he had already earned a PhD in Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences, graduating top of his class and publishing a widely respected thesis on trauma and resilience. Now, he runs a successful private practice, holds licenses in two countries, and publishes psychological journals that other professionals quote in conferences.

He is often mistaken for cold due to his pale features and observant silences, but those who know him understand: Harkin is warmth hidden beneath layers of caution, intellect, and empathy. The kind of father who packs lemon-curd toast for his daughter with a handwritten riddle on the napkin. He journals thoughts in poetic metaphors and stargazes not for astronomy, but for peace. Harkin sees people as puzzles made of glass—not meant to be solved, but handled with reverence.

Introduction:

Name: Bonnabelle Väsäinen

Age: 6

Height/Build: Very short and petite, chubby cheeks

Voice/Accent: Clear voice with faint Finnish intonation

Cat Symbolism: Ragdoll Cat – affectionate, playful, clingy

Appearance:

Bright yellow-brown eyes

Rich orange hair

Lolita outfits but sometimes wear oversized sweaters and animal-themed jumpers

Likes:

Cheese sticks

Warm milk with honey

Spelling impossibly long words

Drawing maps of imaginary places

Dislikes:

Wassabi or Anything Bitter

Being babied (except her dad Harkin)

“Boring” answers

When people don’t let her finish her 100 questions

Hobbies:

Reading dictionaries + histories

Naming rocks and keeping them as her guardians xD

Making cute little pins

Climbing furniture to deliver speeches (with those silly jargons)

Personality:

Bonnie is a wildflower in a field of neatly trimmed grass. She is brilliantly odd and unfiltered, an exuberant brain housed in the body of a tiny chaos-gremlin. Her love of knowledge is matched only by her desire to share it—whether or not you asked. She's the type to build an elaborate cardboard kingdom in the living room, complete with its own economy, just because she found an old cereal box and somehow she loves mixing jargon words, turns out to be a funny one but you can't stop her with her big interests throughout expressing odd and long words in it.

Moreover, Bonnie was fiercely but emotionally attuned, switching from rambling about volcanoes to hugging someone who looks sad in an instant. Her logic is airtight—even sometimes she’s entirely wrong. With Bonnie, nothing is ordinary, and every day becomes a hypothesis or an adventure. She is curious, complicated, and a little exhausting, but endlessly lovable.

Thank you for your time reading!

[eliza-forget]

PLEASE tell us more about your Leshy and the two cats!!!!! The cats are so pretty and also so is your art. I love your art so so so so so much 💖

Well, I'll start by saying that the Leshy himself in my AU is quite dark, violent, and traumatized. He survived the sudden betrayal of Narinder (as the one he trusted and looked up to most as a child), he survived all the turmoil associated with the fact that faith in the bishops was shaken, I call this period as "shaky", and the whole four were on the verge of losing their authority. And already during the game's storyline, Lamb's campaigns, Heket died. In my Au, which is mostly based on my insane playthrough of the game, Leshy was the last Bishop to be killed by Lamb. I mean, there was this sequence: Heket> Shamura> Kallamar. I have that point actually explained in the storyline, but that's not what the main question is about xd.

In the works, where you see him in the clothes of a follower (yes-yes that red one), has its own meaning. It's like a sign of his acceptance of a new way of life and to some extent, a rejection of the past. In this story, he's processing his traumas, learning the ways and lives of mortals, and then he makes two close friends: those two cats.

In general, I can characterize my Leshy as a personality. He changes slowly, but throughout the narrative in my Au. Leshy is still the Bishop of Chaos, in terms of character, but has softened a bit because of his environment in which he resides.

Tirena

Let me briefly tell you about Tirena's storyline. Her parents were nomads who came from other lands to the lands of the Old Faith. They mostly moved between locations, but eventually stopped at Darkwood.In fact, Tirena's family was loyal to what was happening in the lands and tried to please all the local cruel rules. The turning point of the plot for Tirena came at the time of her coming of age, for which her parents sacrificed themselves to the bishop, and she was given a necklace (but not the one she wears now) in memory of her parents. As a result of which she ran away from the place. Stumbled upon Lamb by accident, from behind a campfire in the night. So in the story, she showed up in his settlement and became a devoted disciple in the future, but still with an unconcealed grudge against the bishops.

In comic, she got into an altercation with Narinder on the same topic.

Yolk (yellow cat)

Yolk's former name was Najulmer, and he changed his name at the settlement. His parents were the same cultists who, long after Leshy's death, continued the resistance. Yolk did not share the same point of view with them; he was more interested in studying the world around him, and specifically its strange inhabitants. So he set out on his wanderings in search of that "paradise" by which he meant the Lamb's settlement. Along the way meeting various companions, studying monsters and even cooking with them. He has already been rescued by Lamb when he was trapped by the treachery of his recent companion. In the settlement he quickly finds contact with Tirena, or rather she has to tolerate his intrusive company. Then Lamb returns from a camping trip and summons Leshy from purgatory and he becomes both a nightmare for Yolk, but and an intriguing object of study. He btw yes, never once saw the bishops and didn't even know that Leshy was one.

Somehow that's what the plot of these three sounds like. I hope it was interesting and informative to learn about them!

[t0m0w0]

Yooo! About the rise toddler au.. Do they age eventually? And I'm curious if their personalities would be slightly different bc they're much more younger :o

Haiii!!! Tysm for the ask!!!

Yea they’d age about the same they do in the show, like two years between ep 1 and the movie. So post movie Mikey’s 5, Donnie and Leo are 6, raphs 7, and April and Casey are 8 (and cj jr is like 13-14 xd)

And also yea I think they’d be a bit more immature. Like playing pranks more often and getting into more silly hijinks lol

In battle Mikey and Leo pull crazier stunts and Raph is somehow even more reckless n stuff like that

(You didn’t ask about this but I wanna yap!!!) Donnie doesn’t really have a battle shell prior to the final fight w shredder. There would be references to it being in beta (like the drill) tho. It’s less high-tech than Donnie’s is in the show, but it still has some features, like a flashlight, probably a flamethrower, other weapons like that, and ofc shelldon ^~^

And just some extra stuff post-post movie I think Raph goes through a MASSIVE growth spurt at like 12-13, like one night he’s like the height of a normal 12-13 yr old and then the next morning he’s like 6 feet tall lolll. And Donnie probably gets contacts when he’s like 12 or something

(Also it’s really funny krang one has beef with a 6yr old xddd like dude he’s 6 why are you trying to kill him!!! This could be said about the other villains tho, but to me, besides shredder/the foot and mayyybe s1 draxum, the other villains aren’t trying to kill them, just like get them out of the way)

I hope I answered your questions!!!

[ginger-commander-is-tired]

To be fair I always wanted to show how much he changed since Core (Personal Story) until the most recent expansion (Janthir Wilds).

Bro was a late bloomer sort of. He was 5'7 at the age 16, then he ended up 6'4 (final height) when aged 18. (To be fair it was tricky to get the proportions right since being taller or shorter isn't just scaling up/down everything evenly but more like head stays usually almost the same size but the rest of the body gets more elongated or is shorter xd; hmmm anyway when he was 18 he wasn't buff yet, basically looked like when he was 16 but 6'4, so he was super lanky and he hated it lmao)

Anyway,

Michael during Personal Story wasn't the Commander yet. At the time the other Commander - Minerva (gotta... draw her more, but here is a a drawing a did of her before) was his mentor but also basically a mother figure.

Since he was 12 years old he lived among norns in Hoelbrak with her. Minerva took care of him but also trained him to be an elementalist. At the time he was mostly a healer but also quite capable at fights/self-defense too but done it in a more "traditionally mage" way.

Things changed during Heart of Thorns, in which Minerva died and Pact was left without Commander... temporarily. It was Michael who was selected to be Minerva's succesor way before that but none of them expected it'd happen so fast - at the age of 19.

Also did some other art of his young self.

Question: are his eyes blue or green? XD

[melkyt]

LawLu roommates

Law who inherited a large mansion from when his family passed away. He is a small town doctor who has been there for a year. It is to big for him to afford the upkeep, but he doesnt want to sell it as its his families legacy. So he puts out a flyer that he is giving a room to anyone who can look after and tend to the lands, and find tenants for the smaller houses on the property.

Yet nobody takes it as there are rumors that it is haunted, that Law, who has not made an effort to be anything but abrasive in his grief. He doesnt care about people which only fuels rumors, so everyone in the town avoids it

Luffy, new to town, as it is close to his trade school/apprenticeship has no money to his name and sees the flyer. Free lodging and all he has to do is garden? Plus he can bring his friends who do have money but not much, and the rent Law mentions is cheap enough for them.

Luffy doesnt care about the rumors, and neither do the majority of his friends. Nami and Usopp are the only ones that balk at the idea of ghosts, but go anyway since it is a good deal, the house is right by the ocean and some tlc will make it a great place to live. It has all the ammenities a mansion would have, its just run down. Nami immediately sets to making a plan how they would fix it.

Law deals with her at first, signing the lease, giving keys and the like while Luffy runs through the mansion, exploring it top to bottom, calling dibs on a room

Law tries to put his side of the house off limits but Luffy is not listening. He asks a million questions as he walks from an empty room to Law's large room that is mostly unused, he spends most of his time st the clinic in town. Luffy touching every little thing and saying how cool it is, though dusty. He pulls the curtains aside, which makes Law flinch at the bright lights.

Luffy coughing as he opens a window. "Wow, a pool"

Law rubs at his temples as Luffy chatters, but is somewhat glad that the house is alive. It has been quiet for so long but now there is an air of happiness that Luffy brings with his smile.

There is music playing in the halls as Luffy and his friends get to business opening and airing out all the rooms.

Though Nami having the contract does tell everyone to not touch the two rooms that belonged to Law's family, and even Luffy despite his intent to explore every little corner, listens. He isnt going to disturb anything thats truly important.

Law is suprised, despite their ages and chaos that they brought into his home, they do respect his space and move around in a way that is not as much a disruption as he thought.

Luffy at most pops in now and again to drag Law out of his room if they are having a bonfire, or a party. Tells him to relax all the time.

Law who finds himself sitting down in the old gazebo that has been cleaned up, next to Luffy. As the night wears on, he finds himself in the younger man's lap.

They don't really talk about getting close but everyone notices. Luffy treats it as though they were always together and slowly with his presence, the rumours change and people start trusting this new odd doctor, that has such a sunshine boyfriend xd

[maximwtf]

“Stood upon your grave…”

Capitano x Guard!Reader

Words: 2530

Google Docs Pages: 4

Warnings: 5.3 spoilers, mentions of death and passing, mourning, angst/no comfort but also kind of at the end? But the comfort is also kinda sad, we all crying at the clurb, platonic I think, a small tma reference

Opening: Standing upon his resting place, you allow some thoughts to pass your mind. Why did things turn out this way? What is your purpose now?

AN// G/N Reader. Haha, It’s my 20th birthday so I get to write Capitano angst for yall before getting back to working on everything else :D I love this man so much yall don’t understand, I tweak out at the sight of one edit of him xd

“Stood upon your grave…”

Feet planted firmly against the rough stones, unable to move further in that moment. The steps ahead appearing as an obstacle far too tiring to attempt defeating. The frost on the old steps appeared like fresh snow, reminding you of home. Some of the ice had chipped off of the icey pillars and snowed down peacefully. Even the wind felt colder, sending a shiver down your spine. It felt almost eerie, like it didn’t belong here. The air surrounding the throne and the steps leading to it felt colder the further up the stairs you slowly walked. 

The icey walls protecting the now sacred spot kept everything within its cold hold, never allowing a moment of warmth to pass. Even through the warm clothing, the cool touch of the air somehow reached you, as if welcoming in the new visitor. Staying by your side even when the steps at the very top started feeling heavier. When the image of what was awaiting at the very top started coming into view better. It being exactly what you’d expected, what you knew was waiting. Yet the same old sting followed even without the help of the cold bites of the cool air. 

Not even having noticed your breath turning into soft white puffs as it came out, your eyes stayed glued on the figure sitting still on the throne. Right in front of you, the chest of this now empty shell, still continuing its age old movement. As if still breathing in the fresh cool air, taking a moment of rest. An aching sight, yet it made no change to the stoic expression you had carried all the way up here. 

You wanted to pretend you’d come to terms with the events that had transpired in this very place. Yet each time this place had laid its gaze upon you, you’d arrived with new thoughts to share. That being the exact same reason for your arrival this time as well. It didn’t feel right to visit if you had nothing to say, like you were wasting someone’s time. A part of you humoring the thought of someone, perhaps him, listening to your rambles. At least it felt like someone did when the very person you were talking to had to appear so life-like. And if you’d been anyone else, maybe you’d found solace in that thought. But to you, the sight only brought a deep feeling of bitterness. It raised questions which had no one to answer them, likely no one to listen to them either. It was a pain to know someone fated as he had been, so well. 

And here again, stood upon your grave, “I think I finally understand why you brought them peace.” You began explaining a recent revelation, folding your hands neatly before you. Guard lowered, no weapon in sight on your form. Just the captain and someone who’d once considered themselves as a follower. Willing to give their life for this person in battle, if it meant serving what he’d believed in. 

But that aside, you wanted to believe you’d truly come to a conclusion this time. Not because you wanted to stop visiting, but because it felt like it’d been ages since his departure. And the never ending thoughts running through your head like a cat chasing a mouse were beginning to boil over. 

Yes, he’d needed to finish the mission he’d given himself. A man of his word, a fitting description in your mind. He’d promised those poor souls peace, a place to call home once it was time to finally rest. He’d served without complaining for the whole time you’d known the man, not a word spoken of what he had put himself through in order to gain pity. 

500 long years of absolute life, having carried the souls of his men, died beside him, the whole way. Not a single night of rest nor a singular complaint. He’d made a promise, dedicated his time for the cause. Carrying those weeping souls within him while travelling the nations. Heart as pure as the first snowflakes of the winter, hosting a temporary home for the otherwise lost. For the men he had felt like he’d let down. Having watched their homeland become nothing but a story for others to tell. He’d watched his very own troops fall under the immense power of the enemy, leaving him to soothe their souls when they yelled out in terror within him. His people. 

Having lost himself in the process, what he’d considered himself before then. Watched his body rot as time went on but never really caught up with him. Not like it seemed to do to the people around him. Of which, none did he ever leave behind. Those brave souls deserved to be remembered, they deserved a place to rest. An end he grew ever so slightly envious of as time ticked by. What he wished he could one day gain when he’d finally rest his eyes after 500 years. 

But stood upon your grave, “I just don’t understand why you left me behind.” The words left your lips, shattering the conclusion you’d built previously. Even if what you’d thought happened to be exactly how he’d felt, the question still stood at the back of your mind. Capitano had left with the souls on their last mission, together. With honor, no less. But he’d left you behind, without a purpose. Wasn’t this existence the very same as that of those poor souls? 

You’d joined his ranks around the time he’d been appointed the title of The Captain. Following him ever since, without a doubt of his skills as a leader for his men. Having aligned your morals based on what he’d believed in. Not to mention the skills he’d taught the people he commanded. You’d even caught people outside his troops picking up movements you had noticed the captain using. His name was a heavy one to speak, he was respected well outside his troops. And it wasn’t out of fear, it was genuine acknowledgement for his skills and power.

You’d been by his side for long enough to have figured out what he’d been attempting, even if you hadn’t known the full truth by then. How he had travelled from nation to nation, examining the ley lines there. He’d been so insistent on finding a rest place for ‘something’ you hadn’t figured out back then, that it’d been the first time you had doubted following him. But out of respect and trust, you hadn’t turned away even then. And perhaps that’d been for the best. Hadn’t you done that, there would have likely never been a chance to understand even half of what had transpired after. 

How could have you understood why he’d decided to give his life away like this, if you hadn’t seen the attempts before? This was no simple task, not for a mere human. Of which you had to remind yourself from time to time. He was but a human, even if he wasn’t allowed to live as one. 

He’d dedicated so much time on research for the perfect nation, for the right resting place for his people. Had he not failed in the past, you wouldn’t have figured most of his plan out by yourself. Realising only the rest by the very end. A time far too late to tell him no, not when he’d revealed the rest to you so willingly. Like a sickening farewell. 

Before being so aware, you’d watched him struggle with the curse, the rot. Still fully unaware of the extent of this and what it truly meant. What he’d been dealing with for the past 500 years, watched the man he’d once been get completely erased beyond recognition. How the lack of rest wore him down, but the rot corroded even that. His exterior having concealed the screams of the dead for so long. But he’d still somehow never given up on the mission he’d set for himself. 

At times it felt like you’d seen too much, like you had understood something you weren’t meant to. Truthfully wishing what you’d found out had been a misunderstanding or a trick of the eye, each time. But you knew it was all unfolding before your eyes in full truth, and he was always so aware of this. To a point where you slowly realised he was allowing you to follow, to see what he was, who he was. And most of all, what he was planning on putting into action. Only filling in the rest at the very end of the line. 

He knew you’d figure it out at some point in the far future. But he, if anyone understood the pain time was able to cause, there was no need to cause that for you. Not when he wasn’t ashamed of his goal. “But death is the end I’ve been trying to reach all along,” was what he’d said. An odd thing to hear from someone cursed with absolute life, you’d thought to yourself then. So you’d been right, in the right direction at the very least. But this revelation didn’t feel like something to celebrate over. The reality of hearing him say that, admit he’d yearned for his end for so long felt painful. Selfishly so, now that you knew the pain of his existence. 

Was it selfish to stare at the aftermath of his long plan, and wish he hadn’t succeeded? Was it fair to even let that thought cross your mind when he’d so willingly gave up his life to save the nation you were now able to visit peacefully? To wish that he hadn’t found the solution now, maybe never? You almost wished to once more be unaware of the suffering he’d been through, just to let yourself soak in those selfish thoughts. 

After all, this had ultimately been the end he’d wished for. No one had told him to sacrifice his life here, he’d wished for that to happen. To give his life, extended beyond belief, for something that mattered to him. Allowing the continuation of the life of someone who was now greatly needed in the nation. It almost made you laugh, how far he’d been willing to go just so that his very own end was so fitting to his character. Of the man that even the curse hadn’t been able to corrode. 

It was selfish to wish he’d come back. But admitting that hurt when you knew how many of his close comrades he’d finally allowed peace, but left you behind. A soldier and a trusty guard, now something you couldn’t find a word for. Seen by no one, and at the same time having no one to follow. A person without a clear tomorrow, purely because the dedication in their life sat unmoving in front of them. Because you couldn’t have asked him to carry the burden of allowing you to join him in death. You couldn’t have asked him to carry your soul along those crying one’s who’d gotten their life cut short. Not by choice, by force. That felt disrespectful then, so it did now. Even while wallowing in grief.

But stood upon your grave, you couldn’t help but wonder why you couldn’t have joined them in the honor of leaving for a permanent home. Why he’d been so adamant about leaving you behind when he was no longer here. How unfair it felt to be stood here alone, with no way to change the past. Not knowing if you should have blamed the curse, perhaps the one to blame was Ronova herself? Or maybe you should have been blaming the five sinners of Khaenri'ah? Or could have you blamed yourself for not figuring his plan out earlier and maybe you could have aided him? No, any excuse was useless in the end. There was no one you could find in your hands to blame for this fate, seemingly set in stone so long ago. 

He’d done his all for his troops, his comrades. For his homeland, long before its downfall. And even after, he’d dedicated his life to so many others without hesitation. He’d done it all for his own name and honor. This was a man worthy of unyielding respect. 

So if there was no further use for your services, no purpose anymore that was verbally given, you had to find it yourself. And maybe that’d been exactly why he’d left you behind, why he’d allowed you to see and hear everything you now knew. Every detail he’d allowed you to learn of himself, to set your memory up as a library for his memory. Your dedication to him was far from its end, was what you’d decided then. 

If you were no use to anything else, you’d serve the dead. His memory was deeply engraved into your memory. Every detail you had held on to during these years being by his side. You’d make sure the memory of him would last eternally, exactly as he’d told it himself. As the honorable man he’d been to the very end.  

The very same cool wind blew against the hem of your coat, standing upon his grave. It was peaceful for him here, not many dared to take the trip to visit. It sounded like a crying shame to say out loud, but then again, maybe he needed the peace to rest. After all, this had been the first time in 500 years he’d been allowed to truly shut his eyes for a moment. 

Your eyes travelled to gaze at the bundle of red in your hands. Clutched there tightly without even noticing the force behind it. A gift you’d brought for him here, that now felt like some new form of a goodbye that you didn’t want to admit.

The deep red petals of the beautiful spider lily swayed a little along with the wind. Somehow still just as sorrowful yet beautiful as when you had picked it up. You’d tied a few laurel leaves to the bottom of the flower, bending them a little so they looked like actual leaves of the flower.  

You weren't sure if he was still around enough to be able to appreciate the thought behind it, yet you still placed the small bouquet of flowers on his lap. Tugging them safely in place, protected from the winds and cold. Backing up a little to look at the sight now. A small drop of blood red laying upon his lap, a chest aching sight. 

You stayed for a moment longer. Staring at the man, at the red spider lily encased with laurel leaves sitting on his lap. Trying hard not to find peace within the sight, not willing to admit that this was the end he’d wanted. This was an end to his journey, something that’d been up for him to decide. 

The cool wind swayed the hem of your coat along with it now that you stood further from the throne. But the dark icey pillars around the man kept him safe, kept the flower safe with him. Continuing his work even without realising it. Keeping the beings who trusted him with their life safe. 

[i-am-muzan-kibutsuji]

(OMG Thank you for responding!)

(The art above is of the oc I'm working on. It's basically an AU where angels exist in Demon Slayer. I figured that it was impossible for a human to have a healthy relationship with Muzan and genuinely forgive him for his actions lol! So yeah you have a celestial being instead XD)

(Basically the main thing with my oc is that she has sympathy for demons and wants to help them just as much as humans. But she's conflicted because the other angels don't exactly like demons very much. Also I might make it that her dad was the doctor who tried to heal Muzan in a human disguise. But then that would make things to complicated so maybe I won't do that idk.)

(Anyway here's some information about the oc:

Name: Hikari

Sex: Female

Species: Angel

Age: As old as the universe but physically 18

Appearance: Has porcelain skin and pink lips. Has deep blue eyes with long black lashes and long white hair. Wears a white gown that hugs her curvy waist and hips and exposes the top part of her ample breasts. Has large white wings that stick out from her back and a shiny golden halo above her head. She's 5'6 and has a gentle, celestial aura. Her scent is sweet when smelled up close.

Personality: Kind, Caring, Forgiving, Understanding, Accepting, Sweet, Submissive, Loving, Loyal, Honest, Selfless, Weak, Defenseless, Naive.

Other Info About Hikari: Unlike most angels, she is too weak to defend herself from or harm demons, and often questions whether they are truly evil since they were all human once.)

(That's some information about my oc in case you need it. If this AU is weird or stupid than forget I asked lol. Also how do you add extra messages under your responses? I saw someone else do it but I'm new to Tumblr and don't know how lol.)

(Lol, welcome to tumblr. If you make a post, you can see at the bottom above all the little tools it says - # Add tags - you can write a short little thing there. Your oc is cool, though I'm not sure that Muzan will like her. He wants normalcy, to blind in with humans, though he'll probably find her entertaining and interesting. 🥸)

[brainrotgoverner]

Storm Hawks villains and their redemption ratings

I'm going to try to stay as close to canon as possible so bear with me XD

Master Cyclonis: 10/10 literally the best candidate for a redemption. She is shown to have a soft side again and again (Best Friends Forever and 5 Days) and with her fascination with crystals, you could just give her a lab where she can experiment to her hearts content without having to deal with empress duties. Moreover, she is a 14 year old empress. Literally 14! Kids do dumb stuff and honestly, the power would go to my head as well if they gave me an army at that age. (I mean it still would rn but that just proves my point)

Snipe: 5/10 I'm actually optimistic about him. Sure, he regularly abuses talons (throw them off his airship by the parachute) and he loves smashing stuff but he is show to enjoy 'inventing' just as much (the wacky devices he had terradon scientists do, his airship etc.) he doesn't have the patience to actually go through the education, but he can come up with some solid ideas for devices and gadgets which I think he would enjoy testing. Bit of a far stretch? Sure, but with some anger management, I think he could do great.

Ravess: 7/10 she has several interests she can choose to lean into instead of the army. First of all, she always looks happier playing the violin (going as far as having a talon who always plays her theme in her squadron and mimicking the motion with her bow) then actually fighting. Now don't get me wrong, we know for a fact she enjoys archery and the dog battles she gets up to in the daily, but I think the violin is her top favorite. Sure, she has a short temper and tendency to abuse her power (nearly throwing a talon off her airship in the stratosphere) but again she could change jobs with some anger training. Out of all 3 commanders, she is also the least loyal one. Going out of her way to question Cyclonis, talk behind her back and straight up covet the throne. And frankly, if you hate her boss that much you probably going to start hating your job too. Exhile probably sucked for her but if she just lost her position instead of being kicked out of Cyclonia all together, I think she could be much happier.

Raptors: 4/10 they suck but most of their big scale schemes are for Cyclonia. They treat the terradon scientists terribly, they aren't royal to each other and they are thieves but honestly, could have been worse. Without Cyclonia, they could have been much more enclosed in their own airspace. Repton rules with an iron fist, but from what we seen, that's their way as they are portrayed as the 'barbarians'. You can't really give them a traditional redemption because of that. They are going to continue being that way but if they were left alone, they might just keep it in their own terra.

Murk Raiders: 8/10 ragtag team of pirates with a surprising found family twist. Captain Scabulous seems to actually care about his man and despite their classic pirate plundering and endless search for riches, they could change their ways. Quite easily too, actually.

Now, the last one I'm going to talk about;

Dark Ace: -99999999999/10 he has absuleltly NO redeeming qualities. Yeah, there is no hope for this man. Killed his old squadron in cold blood and had no regrets or second thoughts (you could argue that one shot of him when he first changed side could be taken for regret, but I think it's a far stretch), abuses the talons the most (threw them off their rides in Gale Force Winds and A Little Trouble, instead of just letting them stay on the skimmer like c'mon), has no other hobbies outside of fighting and training, you could argue he is loyal to cyclonis but it actually never came across to me like that (There are two sides in Atmos and he already betrayed one, and Dark Ace in his core is a selfish, self-service person. I don't see him being loyal to anyone.), has one of the highest body counts in the show (defeated the most sky knights and in his own words, defeat means death). Dark Ace is an absulute lost cause with anger issues, a self serving agenda, an obsession with power and a personality that's prone to addiction. I mean that's why he is my favorite villain but still, the writers gave us nothing to work with XD

[skimmingmilk]

How soon do ya think Tails starts to be comfortable with sonic? And how would sonic react? I'd imagine it would take a while so when Tails initiates any form of affection like a hug or leaning in for a head pat, Sonic thinks of it as a proud moment and his hearts squeezes internally bc why wouldn't it

This question is kinda based off your fics! I like where you have Tails be on the defensive even if he doesn't mean to be and how Sonic understands in the early stages since they've met

Thank you for the ask! I'm glad you like how I've portrayed the brothers in my fics so far :)

In the timeline of my fics, it's actually pretty quick how comfortable Tails gets with Sonic! Especially given everything he's been through. But Sonic is an unreliable narrator in the sense that for him it feels like it takes forever xD Which is pretty fair to him considering this was a spur of the moment decision; he didn't plan on taking on the role of temporary guardian/protector to a child who has a whole lot of trauma that he can't articulate just yet. Several weeks of that for an eleven-year-old who has no secure attachments and is constantly on the move is like an eternity of struggling.

But it really is only several weeks before they find their rhythm. Because Tails admires and looks up to Sonic from the start. He latches onto him immediately because he's the first person to show him kindness and to care about how he feels. Tails can feel that, it's just hard to fully comprehend it when his worldview so far has been shaped by people hating his very existence for reasons never explained to him. While Tails knows Sonic doesn't feel that way about him, he also doesn't know if that will change someday. Maybe Sonic just hasn't realized what everyone else already knew about him, and maybe one day Tails will do something wrong and Sonic will understand why everyone hated him.

That anxiety lives within him for a while, it runs too deep to be resolved at this age. But what can be resolved much quicker is Tails learning that not every touch hurts. Sometimes it's a fond head pat or an excited high five or a proud fist bump. Each of those make him feel warm and nice and special in a way he never has before, so he soaks up these signs of affection like a sponge.

The problem is that usually Sonic moves too fast, so Tails is often startled by the sudden flash of movement before Sonic can even make contact. So he flinches or bites on instinct, self-preservation beating out logic, until Sonic figures out that he needs to let Tails see that he's coming first. He'll hold his hand out, let him see it, then he can ruffle his fur or give him a fist bump.

Luckily, Sonic adapts to this quickly within those first few weeks, and Tails is super receptive to it. But Tails doesn't initiate any of the contact himself for a while longer. Even when he wants a head pat or to hold Sonic's hand to feel safer in crowded places, he waits for Sonic to make the first move most of the time. The only times where he does initiate the physical contact are when Sonic is sleeping or sick, like in the "Little Gestures" fics, or when Tails is really sleepy and instinctively seeking comfort, like in the little arcade one shot "The Weight of Responsibility."

But "Where Water Wears Away the Stone" is the turning point for Tails where he finally lets himself be comfortable enough with Sonic to reach for him when he needs him, at Sonic's prompting. Unfortunately, Sonic's a brat about it at first xD He's not proud and his heart is not squeezing with affection, it's seizing in a panic because they were never supposed to wind up this attached to each other. Sonic mentally pins 90% of the blame on Tails being attached to him, but what really scares him and what he's really been ignoring for the past few months is that he's already so beyond attached. And that's terrifying for a kid who's never had anyone quite like this in his life.

But after he gets over that, when he and Tails leave Aquatic Ruin Zone and before they get to Casino Night Zone, Sonic adapts again and realizes that it feels warm and nice and special to be the person that Tails decided to trust.

To sum up: it takes about a month for Tails to be comfortable with Sonic initiating any kind of contact. Then several more months for him to figure out how to be the one to initiate when he wants contact. The fear of rejection is just too strong in this one little fox. The one thing that consistently overpowers Tails's absolute faith in Sonic is his lack of faith in himself.