#but yeah there ya go XD

[bubblepopsims]

~Bunny Bear Madalyn Marie ft. bunny boop

i couldn't pass up on not putting my bun in these accessories by @1-800-cuupid CC set💘Bunny Bop || VENUS💘

and fits perfectly with my naughty innocent Maddi

[stormbreaker-290]

H ey chat storm lore development: I am 99% sure I am Demisexual and (probably) Demiromantic

[muppenthings]

Quick question (or poll)

Yep those are your options. I'm fine with either one. xD

[elizabethrobertajones]

That YA post you reblogged is not really accurate. There are some good sources in the notes, you should check it out

I know, I'm a five times published YA author :D However, it is funny!

[mcltiples]

song associations || accepting

@dynamoprotocol sent; ⚡ A song that my muse would listen to (Rick Prime)

{ OOC / HC } Alright, you know what, you're gonna get TWO because I can't make up my mind on just one. He has a whole IC playlist of music he would listen to. And also the songs are somewhat meaningful for his character too xD So there's that!

Let's start with We're An American Band by Rob Zombie

Yes, it has to be the Rob Zombie version, why? Because it just goes harder than the original. He likes hard rock, heavy metal music. It just speaks to him more than any other type of genre.

He loves this song especially because (just like most Ricks, yes he even he can't escape this headcanon) he always wanted to be a rockstar. Ever since he was a kid. Though, due to unfortunate upbringings, he wasn't allowed to pursue it. He wasn't able to learn how to play the guitar until he was 18 and moved out on his own. So whenever this song comes up and he's drunk enough, he'll do a whole lip sync performance.

The second song is A Complicated Song by Weird Al Yankovic

This isn't the typical type of music he listens to but he became a big fan of Weird Al at a certain point in his life. So he enjoys several of his songs. This one in particular. It's sort of unknown but he always thinks of singing this song to his partner just to annoy the shit out of him 🙄 And well he sort of did during a Discord conversation, which amused him a lot.

[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

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[bottomstolove]

"I'm sorry...to impose," the thief chuckled shakily, breaths shallow and pained. He kept pressure on his upper arm as well as he could to try to keep the bleeding to a minimum, but there was little he could do about the cuts and scrapes and bruises, courtesy of crashing through the trees when his glider was shot down.

At least he managed to land on the balcony of this stranger's home, providing him with a decent enough temporary hiding place from the snipers.

"I'm not here to cause trouble. If you'll give me just a few minutes to catch my breath, I'll be on my way again soon."

[factual-fantasy]

*Pulles out the Welcome Home Wiki and clears throat*

So, to start with, are there any elements of the Welcome home crew being a tv show? Any "neighbor" that Wally talks too?

Who would be the most likely to figure out Wally's house is alive? Can Home speak or are they limited to onomatopoeias?

Canonically, Wally can only do the Mash Potato, is your version of him a better or worse dancer? Is anyone particularly skilled at something you wouldn't think they'd be? (eg: Frank having mad crochet skills)

Who feels the most comfortable around Wally? Are any of the neighbors unerved by his sleep depreived behaviors at times?

If Poppy found Sally as a youngin, how did that happen on a scale of Thumbalina to Stitch?

How much of a jokster is Barnaby, has he ever gone too far with his jokes? What's his go to for lifting the spirits of his neighbors?

Does Julie love games just as much here? If so, how strict is she with the rules of them? Especially safety rules. Does she create new games often or stick with the same couple and occasionally introduce new ones as the current ones become less fun?

How much of a bug lover is Frank? Does it ever bother him that all his friends names end with -ly/ie and his last name does that instead of his first?

What is your current idea for Sally? More gremlin or fancy? Maybe a bit of both, reserving all her self-control for the stage?

Is Howdy's bugdega his most prized possession, or no more then it would be for a normal person? How receptive is he to jokes?

Would the town of Welcome Home still use Jokes are currency, or would you switch it to a more standard kind of money?

Hope that's enough for ya XD

XD I couldn't help myself, I interpreted that question about Franks name as a funny drawing prompt! XDD Now onto your other questions..

1: Are there any elements of the Welcome home crew being a tv show? Any "neighbor" that Wally talks too?

Nahh, there aren't any elements of their world being a show or a Y/N and/or neighbor that Wally talks too. Its just the neighbors and their world is very real to them! :0

2: Who would be the most likely to figure out Wally's house is alive? Can Home speak or are they limited to onomatopoeias?

I don't have any plans for anyone to find out Home is alive.. but if anyone ever did, Wally, Eddie and Barnaby would be good candidates. Wally because he lives there and is pretty sensitive to Home's energy. Eddie because he is very sensitive to homes energy.. and Barnaby, because he's really close to Wally and is looking in on this situation with a clear and level head. Perhaps he would notice things that Eddie and Wally are too scatterbrained to notice..

Also yes! :0 Home cannot speak and is limited to onomatopoeias!

3: Canonically, Wally can only do the Mash Potato, is your version of him a better or worse dancer?

I'd like to think my Wally is capable of learning new dances, but he's just not particularly interested.. <XD so yeah! Only the mashed potato for my Wally too XDD

4: Is anyone particularly skilled at something you wouldn't think they'd be?

I have a few in mind for surprising skills! My Barnaby is surprisingly good at sewing! He learned it from his mama 🥺💞💞 Julie is- well, to the surprise of the neighbors at least- really good at making campfires from scratch and other outdoorsy things! :0 And lastly, Eddie is known for being clumsy and forgetful.. but surprisingly he has fantastic handwriting. Beautiful cursive, perfectly spaced out, perfect punctuation, never smudges, all the "I"s are dotted and every "T" is crossed. He never has to erase and never spells anything wrong! Eddie doesn't know how he got so good at it.. Its just always been like that he says. hmm..

Technically Barnaby would feel the most comfortable around Wally, since they're best friends an all.. :0 But no one is uncomfortable around Wally due to his sleepy behaviors! The neighbors mostly feel pity for the poor guy.. it cant be fun to never get a good nights sleep..

5: Who feels the most comfortable around Wally? Are any of the neighbors unnerved by his sleep deprived behaviors at times?

6: If Poppy found Sally as a youngin, how did that happen on a scale of Thumbalina to Stitch?

I cant really remember the stories of Stitch and Thumbalina that well... but I'd say it might be more like Stitch..? <XD Sally was super excited to explore everything and go everywhere. So she was quite the handful! Like I think Stitch was..?

7: How much of a jokester is Barnaby, has he ever gone too far with his jokes? What's his go to for lifting the spirits of his neighbors?

Barnaby is a Sans level jokester XDD Fitting puns and jokes into almost every other sentence! But thankfully he's rather observant and doesn't ever go too far. He knows what jokes are and are not appropriate to say around certain neighbors. He also can tell if its a good or bad time to crack a joke.. when it comes to lifting the spirits of his neighbors.. his go-to will depend on the neighbor. For Howdy, Julie or Eddie, he just needs a few good jokes with maybe a sprinkle of life advice in there to get them smiling again.

For Poppy or Wally, his go-to is usually to talk to them rather seriously and figure out what's wrong..

If Poppy is upset, it usually because she's anxious about something. So Barnaby will try to figure out what's wrong so he can help her fix the problem or maybe comfort her if its worry over nothing..

If Wally is visibly upset, usually that means something is really wrong.. Barnaby probably wont let up in until he figures out what happened and is able to help his poor buddy..

8: Does Julie love games just as much here? If so, how strict is she with the rules of them? Especially safety rules. Does she create new games often or stick with the same couple and occasionally introduce new ones as the current ones become less fun?

I'd like to think that my Julie loves games too! :)) She is lenient on any and all rules if all the other players agree to it. In a way changing the rules creates a whole new game! But safety rules are no breakers! Gotta keep her friends safe after all! And I think Julie only switches it up and tries new games once her neighbors are bored with the current selection :00

9: How much of a bug lover is Frank?

Well considering my Frank moved to this neighborhood specifically so he could study and live alongside all the creepy crawlies there.. I'd says he loves them with all his heart! XDDD (Also never call them creepy crawlies around Frank, he hates that!)

10: What is your current idea for Sally? More gremlin or fancy? Maybe a bit of both, reserving all her self-control for the stage?

Right now I'm resisting the urge to make her a 100% chaotic gremlin <XDD Since I don't know if that fits her canon character very well.. I'm leaning more towards a passionate and sassy theater kid atm 🤣🤣🤣

11: Is Howdy's bugdega his most prized possession, or no more then it would be for a normal person? How receptive is he to jokes?

(AOIJASJFF I JUST GOT IT-- BUGDEGA XDD) Its his most prized possession! He treats it better than he does himself to be honest! <XDD And he has a great passion for the quality of the products he sells too!

As for jokes, my Howdy loves a good joke. There's a rumor if you make him laugh, he'll give you a discount! 👀👀

12: Would the town of Welcome Home still use Jokes are currency, or would you switch it to a more standard kind of money?

The canon uses jokes as currency?? :0 Huh.. I didn't know that, I intended to make my neighbors all have jobs. But I guess that begs the question, what jobs do they have.. I guess that's still a work in progress <XD

Anyways- thank you for all the questions! :DD These were a blast to answer, and I hope you had fun reading them! XDD

[captain039]

Cold morning

Hugh Jackman x reader

Warnings: swearing. Fluff, age gap

Blurb: That big jacket oodie thing Hugh wore while filming. XD

It’s cold, it’s freeze your tits off kind of cold. Your shivering, your teeth might as well be chattering. Your miserable heading to the set, wishing you didn’t have to get out the car and the nice heater that finally warmed up on your drive over, wishing you didn’t have to wake up, it was gonna be a shit day. You grumble hiding under your hoodie as you make your way over to the set. You’ve got about ten layers on and you’re still fricken cold.

“Hey hood” you frown but smile when you see Hugh.

“Hey” you greet raising an eyebrow at whatever long ass jumper he’s got on.

“You look cold” he grins and you huff rolling your eyes.

“Yeah well some of us don’t get special, whatever that is” you say gesturing to him as you head under a tent. You shuffle through some things hands shaking, fingers numb, you hate gloves, hate the feel of them, so cold fingers it is.

“Why don’t you have gloves?” Hugh frowns by you grabbing your hands stopping you from what you’re doing.

“Cause they’re icky” you say and he raises an eyebrow and laughs making you pout.

“I’m teasing princess, but icky?” He repeats saying the word funnily. You shake your head and smile. His hands are so warm though cupped around yours.

“How are you so damn warm?” You say wanting to huddle against him like penguin. He chuckles softly bringing your hands to his mouth to blow on them. There’s a rush of warm air and your heart beat picks up a notch.

“I can warm you up” he grins and you raise an eyebrow not sure how to take it. He bunches up the large blanket like jacket he’s got on and suddenly you’re draped under it. You yelp in surprise as he unzips the top slightly so your head can pop out. You’re laughing though, you’re surprised you both fit in this thing but damn is he warm.

“You’re a damn heater!” You say and he grins.

“Put your arms around me” he says and you hesitate but do. You groan softly at how warm he is, you lean your head against his chest and close your eyes sighing. His arms go around you rubbing your back warming you up more and you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven.

“Better?” He says after some silence and you hum nuzzling closed if you could. He chuckles and you feel his lips press to your hairline making your cheeks flush.

“Hey Hugh” you hear Ryan and jolt a bit, he’s gonna tease you non stop for this.

“Hey Ryan” Hugh responds not letting you go.

“What ya got there?” Ryan laughs and you know he knows a groan leaving your lips.

“Oh you’ve captured a live Y/n” Ryan laughs popping into your view and you flush.

“She’s ice cold” Hugh says.

“Oh I bet she was” Ryan’s got this evil glint in his eyes and you glare at him mouthing ‘no’ at him.

“Toasty now?” He asks grinning.

“I hate you” you say and he laughs as does Hugh. You turn your head away from the man and he just snickers like an evil villain.

“I’ll leave you two be” Ryan says and you groan again letting out a huff.

“You warmer now?” Hugh asks voice softer after Ryan’s left. You nod but you don’t let go making the older man chuckle.

“Alright, hang on shuffle this way with me” he says and you shuffle with him.

“I’m gonna sit down ready, fall with me” you frown wondering how the hell this is gonna work exactly. He sits and you do fall, laughing as you do. Hugh’s hands grip your thighs though through the material and hoists you up so your knees are by his hips and you’re in his lap. You’re blushing furiously, you’ve forced the zip down a little more too. You’re looking slightly down at him, your top half out in the cold and you shiver again.

“I don’t see how this works” you laugh the zip half way undone.

“Lay on me” he says and you’re trying to ignore your heart racing. You really want to lean in the moment and you allow yourself too. You shuffle back on his legs and lay on his chest as he zips up the jacket again. Oh this is so much better.

You sag against him everything you were miserable about gone, shivering gone. You feel high shuffle and feel his arms snake around your body instead. You frown a bit seeing his hands gone from the sleeves of the large jacket.

“How you feeling?” He asks and you smile.

“Better now” you close your eyes.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

can u guess which gif will be at the end of this. can you guess. i'll bet at least a few of you can guess XD

Charlie: "New plan- group bonding through shared, SAFE, suffering!"

Alastor: “Oh joy~”

Husk: "Not this fucking shit again."

Angel Dust: "Well hey as long as it's consensual sufferin'~"

Niffty: (lifts arms at vaggie) "YEEET ME!!!"

Vaggie: "Ughh... no."

Niffty: "Aww."

Vaggie: "I'm never living that one down am I?"

Charlie: "Vaggie, you don't need to live anything down EVER-"

Alastor: "Cough cough! Lied to her girlfriend for three years, cough cough!"

Angel Dust: "Dude you're not supposed t' SAY cough."

Husk: “That’s the part you’re fucking annoyed at?”

Charlie: "-and the POINT is, your whole idea about going through hell to trust the people who go through it with you? Not entirely on the wrong track!"

Vaggie: "Yaaay."

Husk: "You fucked up but for the right un-shitty reasons."

Vaggie: "Great. Thanks."

Charlie: "SO! We're all gonna share the worst work day of our lives with each other!"

Niffty: "Share?" (excited) "By INFLICTING them on each other!?"

Charlie: "Talking, Niffty. We're going to, talk about them."

Niffty: "Aww...."

Husk: "Is there a time limit."

Angel Dust: "Is there a rating limit?"

Alastor: (thoughtful) "Does it still count as a terrible work day if I was able to murder them at the end of it?"

Charlie: "Uhhhh-"

Vaggie: "How 'bout we stick to how it made us feel, rather than all the... X rated... gory details?"

Niffty: (sighs) (slumps over) "This is my worst most terrible work day ever.."

Charlie: "And how do you FEEL about it?"

Niffty: "Sad..."

Vaggie: "I'll let you use my spear for roach hunting after this."

Niffty: (bouncing up) "OH THE EMOTIONS! WHATEVER ONES YOU WANT FROM ME I DON'T CARE, I HAVE THEM!!!"

Husk: "What the fuck."

Angel Dust: "Yeesh."

Charlie: "Okay that's, that's enough sharing from you. Good, um, good job!"

Niffty: "Spear spear spear-"

Charlie: "Well MY worst work day was definitely the one where we were besieged by an army of murderous angels heaven-bent on the full scale slaughter of most of my family! And they actually did kill one! Yeah- that." (laughs) "That fucking sucked and I hated it!"

Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty: (GASP)

Charlie: "What? What??"

Angel Dust: "You said the "H" word, toots.."

Vaggie: "She said a lot more than that while writing an angry text to heaven afterwards."

Charlie: "Hey! You checked the text for me- you know I was polite!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, it was the most aggressively polite 'fuck off' anyone's ever written in the history of all creation. I’m so proud of you for it."

Charlie: "Heh."

Alastor: “Cough get a room please cough.”

Angel Dust: “’m TELLING YOU that’s NOT how it’s supposed ‘t WORK you're not supposed t' SAY IT-”

Charlie: "Ah-hem. Um. Husk? Worst work day-?"

Husk: "Still living it."

Hotel Crew: "....."

Husk: "...but you stupid fuckers are keeping me company through it, so, fucking thanks I guess."

Charlie: (tearful) "Oh Husk. That's so..."

Angel Dust: "Love you too, Mr. Whiskers~"

Husk: "Shut the fuck up."

Vaggie: "Hey."

Husk: "Him, not her. The day your “her” shuts the fuck up is the day we all know we're fucked."

Charlie: "Gosh I hope not." (wipes eyes) "Angel Dust? You wanna...?"

Angel Dust: "My worst shitty day was also my BEST day."

Charlie: (bracing herself) "O...kay...?"

Angel Dust: "A friend came to work an' almost killed the boss for me. Can ya believe that? An' the only reason she didn't open him up a few new 'fun' an' 'interestin' holes of his own was 'cause I had to stop her."

Vaggie: "HELL YEAH!"

Charlie: "You mean-"

Angel Dust: "Yeah. Thanks, apple cheeks. I spent good crack money commissionin' fanart of you wrecking his shit."

Charlie: "WHAT!?"

Vaggie: "You have GOT to let me see that."

Charlie: "VAGGIE!"

Vaggie: "Oh come on, it's better than him buying crack, right?"

Angel Dust: "It def looks waaay better on my wall."

Charlie: "I- that's not-"

Niffty: "Is there BLOOD?"

Charlie: "Oh please don't let there be any-"

Angel Dust: "SO much blood, baby."

Charlie: "Noooo...!"

Vaggie: "Now I really need to see it."

Charlie: "H-WHA?"

Husk: "I really need a fucking drink."

Charlie: "I'm- you know what? I'm pretending I didn't hear any of that. La la la! I have complete deniability!"

Alastor: "That's the spirit! You hardly knew him, certainly never fantasized about decorating him with his own entrails! Just keep reminding yourself of that while hiding the body~!"

Charlie: "NO! Just.... well maybe for him..."

Vaggie: "You're so pretty."

Charlie: (pouting) "We need to commission a piece of you standing over Lute with your spear at her throat. It's not FAIR otherwise."

Vaggie: "Anything for you, babe."

Alastor: "How saccharine. Young love hand in hand, spattered in blood."

Charlie: "A-anyway. Alastor. Your turn."

Alastor: "Hmm. Well, there was the time someone reorganized the reels, somehow without mentioning it to me before air time. And without asking me before hand. But..."

Husk: "Here it comes."

Alastor: "Reorganized their organs for them later that night, likewise unasked, was QUITE fun."

Charlie: "I THOUGHT WE SAID WE COULD JUST TALK ABOUT OUR FEELINGS!"

Alastor: "My feelings?"

Niffty: "PURE UNDILUTED JOY"

Alastor: "Mm no, they didn't scream enough for that..."

Charlie: "AAAAAH!" (covers ears)

Alastor: "Shall we say perhaps, accomplished?"

Vaggie: "Over one murder? Wow. You're sure easy to please."

Alastor: "I've always believed in quality not quantity when it comes to my passion projects. Swift, thoughtless killings are so passé."

Angel Dust: "Y'know, meeting you has really ruined the whole dashing dapper man w' a tinted glass monocle for me. It's that creepy grin. You're a total boner kill."

Alastor: "Oh I do try."

Vaggie: "What about the day you died? Didn't you get fucking shot like a deer, venison a la Alastor?"

Alastor: "Fan of my history, hmm?"

Vaggie: "The TV future about it is pretty funny, not gonna lie."

Alastor: "Ah ha ha! TV DID YOU SAY."

Vaggie: "Vox airs it. Every day."

Alastor: "AND YOU WATCHED IT. HMM?"

Vaggie: "Every. Day."

Angel Dust: "I bring the popcorn and pills."

Husk: "I mix the fucking drinks."

Niffty: "I wish it had more BLOOD!"

Alastor: "ET TU, NIFFTY?"

Charlie: "Okay okay, that's WAY more than enough from you, reel back in the shadow monsters please-"

Alastor: "AHAHAHAH...!" (fades into shadows)

Angel Dust: "Creep. He's prob'ly vaping off to go curse the TV again."

Husk: "For mother fuck. I've got that cooking show coming on tonight. Will smacking the aerial with the angel spear get it working again?"

Vaggie: "Probably...?"

Charlie: "Vaggie!" (desperate) (hopeful) "You have a normal worst day at work to finish this exercise off with, right!?"

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: "Uh, well sweetie...."

[ronance4everbrainrot]

GLAAAASSSSSHEAAAART INCORRECT QUOTESSSSSS. because I missed them (long?)

(and other ships)

Red: You’d be stupid to lay a hand on me.

Chloe: Oh, you’d be surprised how much stupid shit I do.

(Fight of our lives basically)

---

Red: Love is weakness and an evolutionary mistake.

Mal: You are literally making a Valentine’s day card for Chloe.

Red, pointing their hot glue gun towards Mal: You’re on thin fucking ice.

(canon)

-now Chloe and her Mentor-

Chloe: How do I make a date really romantic?

Evie: Be mysterious.

Chloe: Okay!

*later, while on a date with Red*

Red: So where are we going?

Chloe: None of your fucking business.

(Red teases her about it on their next dates)

---

Mal: Evie, I know you love Chloe. I mean, we all do, they’re a very nice person and I respect them immensely.

Mal: But I think they might be a fucking idiot.

(she's the smartest dumbass. or dumbest smartass?)

---

Red: How do you know how to kiss? Like who teaches you?

Chloe: Well it’s actually a class, but unfortunately it’s full right now.

Chloe: Would you like me to tutor you?

Evie: That was smooth.

(Evie is proud. Mal is losing 20 bucks. why? Bet)

---

Red: Do you want to know your gay name?

Chloe: My... my gay name?

Red: Yeah, it's your first name-

Chloe: Haha. Very funny Red-

Red: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Chloe: Oh- oh my god.

(Mal, proud: Now that was smooth)

---

Mal: Why are you guys acting like this?

Red: Oh, we're not acting. We really are like this.

(sigh)

---

Evie: Mal? I mixed redbull with coffee and now I can see sounds, should I worry?

Mal: Evie, I swear to god—

(Evie. Stop doing that. You need sleep don't overwork yourself. I love her Qvq)

---

Kidnapper: I have your partner.

Mal: What? I don't have a partner...

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face?

Mal: Oh my god, you have Evie.

(the good old Isle days)

---

Celia : I am a ninja.

Mal: No, you’re not.

Celia : Did you see me do that?

Mal: Do what?

Celia : Exactly.

(canon)

---

Mal: Hey, can you do me a favor?

Celia : Sorry, I have to go do literally anything other than this.

Mal: You don’t even have a legitimate reason?

Celia : Oh, no, I do.

Mal: Well, what is it?

Celia : You see, I simply don’t give a fuck.

(she loves to annoy Mal. Little annoying sister. Canon)

---

Celia: We’ve found the person who stole your identity and was impersonating you.

Dizzy: Where were they?

Celia: Eating cheetos and crying in their car.

Dizzy, impressed: Damn, they really went for it.

(it was Uma, wasn't it? That's literally canon XD)

---

Celia: Here comes the lightning!

Celia, whispering: You've got to imagine it coming out my fingertips, wherein I am an almighty wizard.

Dizzy: Ok, currently imagining that. Hmm, not bad. Not bad at all.

(and they were roommates, your Honor) (wow they were roommates) (The bestest of friends)

---

Red: N... No!

Celia: A fair rebuttal. However, consider this counterpoint: Y... Yes???

(Red is trying to deny her crush on Chloe. Ha.)

---

Dizzy: What, I can’t be in a bad mood? It’s like people think, “Oh, Dizzy is such a nice person, Dizzy is so happy-go-lucky! Dizzy can’t be in a bad mood!” Well, you know what? Dizzy CAN be in a bad mood. And right now, Dizzy IS be in a bad mood.

(Yas Queen. Queen of Mean? So last season. Queen of Bad Mood? So in!)

---

Mal: You tricked me!

Audrey: I deceived you. ‘Trick’ makes it sound like we have a friendly relationship.

(Maybe Queen of Mean isn't so last season.)

---

Dizzy: Comparing Audrey and Mal is like comparing apples and oranges.

Mal: We’re both unique in our own ways?

Dizzy: Apples are superior in every way and all oranges should be eliminated.

Audrey: Which one of us is the orange? (It's me, isn't it?)

(Damn Dizzy. Queen of Bad Mood taking the lead)

---

*the squad is at a dinner party but someone has been murdered*

Chloe: You’re acting pretty carefree for someone who’s life’s at stake. Who’s to say you aren’t the killer?

Evie: It’s a murder, not a tax audit. I’ll be fine.

Red: What about Dizzy? Nobody ever suspects Dizzy!

Dizzy: Well what about Audrey? They have a gun!

Audrey: Celia has a knife.

Celia : Yeah, for fun, not for murder! *stabs Red in the arm*

(where is Uma? oh-. I bet it was Audrey. How else do you show you love someone? They are having their Killing Eve moment)

---

Audrey: You’re such a dumbass (affectionate).

Uma: Aww, you’re such a whore (complimentary).

Mal: How are you talking like that in real life?

Uma: Witchcraft (derogatory).

(canon. They late/hove each other)

---

Dizzy, talking about Evie: They're trying to lure me into a false sense of security! Well, joke’s on them! I’ve never been secure in my life! And I’m not about to start now!

(before Evie got through to her on the Isle 🥲)

---

Mal: *running towards Celia with open arms*

Celia: *moves out of the way*

Mal: Hey, why'd you move?!

Celia: I thought you were going to attack me.

Mal: I was going to hug you!

Celia: Why would you hug me?

Mal: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

(OOF. Lol)

---

Celia : I love being right. It’s one of my favorite personality traits.

(yuh)

---

Mal: Wow, this sucks. I’m gonna kill *remembers that suicide jokes only worsen your mental health and that the first step to healing is stopping* you.

(she's getting there. Go queen)

-will add more of the boys in the next one-

Carlos: Are you laughing at that video of Ben and Harry fighting?

Jay: No.

Jay: I'm laughing at the comments.

(the comments saying "Ha! Gaaaay" etc.)

---

Carlos: You don't need my blessing to go kiss Jay. In fact, I was pretty sure you were already kissing Jay!

Gil: Nope.

Carlos: In that case, as the archbishop of Gil's fully awakened gaydom, I give you my blessing to immediately leave and rectify that as soon as possible! Go now, my child, and kiss Jay right on the lips!!!

(Damn Carlos. Yes. Thanks for helping Gil. Everyone needs Carlos as a best friend)

---

Harry: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on Jay without them noticing?

Gil: Hey, Jay, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny.

Jay: *takes and swallows tracker* Pay up, loser.

Harry: ...

(same Harry, same. But then again not that surprised)

---

Now this is for @corgiplays for context here

Chloe: Earl, I sense hostility.

Earl: Good, because I hate you.

(accurate?)

---

Earl, entering the room: *Sees Chloe and leaves*

Chloe, watching Earl leave: There’s my monthly dose of the Cat…

(Earl didn't leave before pushing one of Chloe's things tho)

---

Chloe: We just ate. Why are you making pancakes?

Red: For the dogs.

Chloe: Why are you making pancakes for the dogs?

Red: They don't know how.

(I want Red to be able to cook lol. That can't even be a headcanon tho, that has to be an AU lol)

---

Earl: Just so everyone knows, don't ever try to climb a tree at night carrying a strobe light, owls DON'T like it.

Biscuit: ...what happened?

Earl: I made a VERY bad mistake.

(Oof)

---

Biscuit: Don’t be sad!

Red: Why not?

Biscuit:

Biscuit: I don’t have a good answer.

(Red acts like she can understand him. Imagine his responses lol. But she basically can)

---

Chloe: When I first met you, I did not like you.

Earl: I'm aware of that.

Chloe: But then you and I had some time together.

Earl: Uh-huh?

Chloe: It did not get better.

(It did. Stop lying. Also Chloe does the same thing as Red. I mean honestly who doesn't talk to their little furry friends.)

---

Red: You don't know anything about me!

Biscuit: I know EVERYTHING about you! You are an open book written for very dumb children!

(Damn. If Red could actually understand him she'd be flabbergasted)

--and just because I love it so much. Here is that one again

Chloe, gently nudging Earl aside with their foot: Earl, move out of the way so I don’t trip on you.

Earl, her eyes enormous: You kick Cat? You kick their body like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for Chloe! Jail for Chloe for one thousand years!

(she is purposely laying in the way tho. And then acts like Chloe hurt her when Red hears her distressed meows)

---

That's it

Hope you liked it.

Byeeee

[multifariousqueer]

Hello girl! how are you? doing well?

Can I request a E 42 yandere miles X reader? Am yes, E 42 reader is dead, omg how original XD

But the E 42 reader had this "church girl" or "flower girl" innocent type persona. And when E 1610 reader arrived with miles, she is a loud, cusses out a lot and has a hammer with her at all times.

E 42 miles sees her and while stunned to see such drastic personality change, he still sees his beloved in her and wants to keep her in his world and in his life? Add flashbacks if ya like! you can change it if you want! whatever makes it be awesome! luv you! <3

Hey, love!! I can totally do this

Suerte- Miles G x Reader

A/n: I hope y’all enjoy this!!

Warnings: strong language, angst, suggestiveness, reader being a spider person, descriptions of blood and yandere behavior, kidnapping, lmk if I missed anymore

You were falling off of a building, it seemed your screams would never end as you looked up into the endless sky waiting for someone, anyone to save you. Miles watched as he tried to run and save you but by then it was too late, the sound of your skull hitting the pavement and the crimson blood that flowed from your nose was enough to indicate that you were gone and there was no saving you. Miles cradled your softer skull as the police and ambulance arrived.

Suddenly, Miles woke up in a cold sweat. It was Sunday now, and he had to get ready for church the only reason he was going was because you convinced him too

You managed to convince Miles to do just about anything; he just couldn’t say no to your adorable face and he hated disappointing you. You two seemed like an odd couple at first, with Miles being tough, cold and closed off whereas you were bright, happy, innocent and it seemed like you could do no wrong. You went to church every Sunday, you prayed all the time, you helped everyone and everything and Miles fell for your soft innocence and your warmth. He fell for your simplicity, your poise, your patience and how you felt like a piece of heaven.

The day he lost you was the day he lost himself. Miles was never the same after you left; he closed himself off completely and adopted the Prowler moniker. He felt like he failed you and that you would be so dissapointed if you saw him now. Miles would have flashbacks to you telling him how much you loved him and how you would always love him in every universe, so he decided to pray and beg God for you back and eventually, he got that.

“MILES WHERE THE FLYING FUCK ARE WE??” you shouted

“I’M TRYING TO FIGURE THAT OUT, Y/N” Miles shouted back

You and your Miles were best friends since you both came to Visions. He found out you had powers the same as him and you two clicked immediately. It seemed you two were fated to be together; same music taste, fashion choices and morals its just you were a bit more harsh than him

“I think we’re home?” Miles questioned

“I don’t remember Brooklyn looking this shitty” you said

“It’s just dark, come on, we can go to my house. My mom loves you” you said

Mrs. Morales loved you because not only were you quick on your feet, you also made Miles happy and you made a great first impression. She thought you were exactly like Miles, just more abrasive and she thought you were sweet.

You went to Miles room and it looked different, almost more grown. Your spider-sense went off and just as you went to tell Miles, Rio was there and greeting him. She looked at you like she had seen a ghost, tears spilling from her...green eyes??

“Y/n?” she whispered

“Yeah? Hi Mrs. Morales” you went, going to give her a hug which she reciprocated just more eagerly

“Oh Mija, I thought you were dead. Gracias Dios, you answered my prayers” she said, sobbing and looking up at the sky

Her and Miles had a conversation and you both revealed your identities in which she was indifferent about. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal an Uncle Aaron.

He saw you and his eyes went wide. He stalked closer to you before grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head

“Is it really you, y/n?” he said

“uhh yeah last time I checked” you chuckled, grabbing your body as a joke

“Where did you go? How are you here?” he asked in disbelief

“Well interesting story actually, we used something called our legs and walked here” you joked, usually Aaron could appreciate your humor because it was one of the things he told Miles before he died

“Miles, you won’t find another girl like her. Girls like y/n don’t come around like that so I’d advise you to keep her"

“Got it” Miles would say

It was like you were looking into a portal of dead people, your entire body clenched when his gaze suddenly went cold.

He lead Miles and you to the roof when suddenly, you felt a strong stinging in your neck and just as you were about to hit the floor, a strong pair of arms grabbed you and you heard voices

“She’s not your, y/n man. She’s meaner”

“I don’t care"

You awoke with a splitting headache on a couch. Your limbs were handcuffed together and it was dark; your eyes immediately went to search for your Miles when you saw him tied to a bag

“He won’t be up for a bit, hes out cold. Maybe we can keep him that way” a voice said

“He’s not the only one who’s gonna be out cold. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” you snapped

“Hm. So hostile, my Y/n would never speak like that” a man said approaching you

“Dawg are you smoking crack? Speed? Bath Salts? Because you gotta be fucked up if you think-“ you started

“la muchacha sucia(dirty girl), I should’ve put that gag on you while you were out” he said, taking off his mask to reveal your boyfriend just more gaunt

“Listen here you Rick and Morty knockoff, if you try that, I will bite your finger off, comprende?” you said

“Si. Eres muy bonita pero tu boca es tan asquerosa. I can tell you aren’t from here” he smirked

“Just so you know, just because you called me pretty doesn’t mean I won’t crush your nuts the second I get out of these chains. Listen, your knockoff prowler suit doesn’t scare me and neither do these chains, I could break out right now but I’m intrigued” you said

You heard groaning and saw your Miles move

“MILES” you screamed into the other Miles’ ear

“Y/N. GET AWAY FROM HER” your Miles shouted

The other Miles ignored him but he grabbed your throat and forced you to look up at him

“It’s not a knockoff mami and unless you want to find out just how powerful this suit can be, I suggest you pipe down. It’s gonna take a bit of work, maybe force” he tightened his grip at force, causing your eyes to water and your tongue to come out

“But I think I can make it work. You may not be exactly like her, but you’ll be close enough” Miles said, lowly

If the circumstances weren’t what they were, Miles would’ve found your position hot, you were tied up, tongue hanging out a bit and your eyes looked so pretty; in his mind, you were giving him the “fuck me” eyes but in reality, you were using this as a way to escape

The idea of playing along until he got his wish came to mind but you realized this was deeper than that, he wanted you in every form and if it wasn’t you, what’s to stop him from taking another version of you that may accidentally come by.

“What happened, mami? You had so much to say, say it.” Miles taunted, hand still flush against your throat

“Yeah its kinda hard when you’re choking the life outta me” you said

He took his hand off your throat and you coughed.

“Dude just leave her alone, okay? You can have me, kill me just please let her go” your Miles said, his voice faltering at the end

“Oh but where’s the fun in that? Plus cabron, I don’t want you at all, its not about you. It’s about her and her making a promise

“What promise did I make?” you asked

Miles got a flashback of you laying next to him, playing with his braids and giggling

“I’ll love you in every universe, Miles Morales” you said sweetly

Miles teared up and explained this to you

“Okay well bud, I’m not her and in a way, I do love you in every universe, I love my Miles but” you said before he slammed his fist next to you, causing you to yelp

“I am your Miles, mi amor. At least, I will be. I’m never letting you go again” he said close to your face, hovering above your lips before getting up and striding over to your Miles

[callmegaith]

Hello followers and HL fandom I'm here once again to bore you with more "learning how to stylize the sillies" process

Here's what I think I'll be sicking to for future art

Video process if you're interested

Some notes:

I did start with giving Gordon's suit normal sized arms but thought it looked a bit boring so BIG SUIT ARMS HELL YA

I like Gordon being squares and rectangles. Tall and lanky but still with enough big shapes to give some strength

Barney tho I just think I want him to have shorter sharper shapes so traingles are really nice and makes understanding drawing his helmet way easier for me while emphasizing other features like cheekbones and jaw and I like the way it makes him look more abstract

So yeah this is hopefully the last process post xD I hope some of you at least found it interesting to see me go through the stylization process, or maybe even found it helpful if you're interested in making more stylized art yourself.

If I can give any advice it would be don't worry too much about following the refrence. This is what made my past attempts a little uninteresting imo. Just follow your guts and imagination. Whatever shapes you visualize for the characters, go with them. And if course, if you fail try and try again.

If you made it this far, here's an extra little treat 💜

(Testing how the shapes work with each other)

[blimgus]

WHB SLEEPOVER SERIES -GEHENNA VER.

Hey guysss blimgus here

guys guys listen i've got an idea.

_______________________________________

Imagine spending your sweet time in Gehenna. Peaceful slow time in the capital passes with the occasional random explosions in the background. However, when the night comes it's time to head back to Satan's castle for a rest. But due to some devils fighting over your attention with each other, you decide that organizing a big sleepover would solve the problem!

By bribing Ppyong with some chocolate you get the necesarry stuff you needed from Minhyeok's room. You grab the definitly too big bag from the tiny Red Lump Devil and hand over his reward.You check the contents of it,while Ppyong stuffs a bunch of ferreros in his mouth.

------------------------

Satan

○ pretty chill about organising a sleepover, tells you that's a good way to boost morale

○ tbh i imagine he'll pick a classic white tank top and some heart boxer briefs xD

○ imagine having a casual romantic talk with him while cooking marshmallows over a burning toaster

○ he's totally up to play some games and have fun with you ( and his subordinates)

○ causes a massive pillow fight to unleash, anihilates most of the others(don't worry he'll go easy on you, but you will not escape your fate *yeets a pillow*)

○ however true chaos starts when you introduce him to Mario Kart

○ oh God I have the absolutely cursed idea. Like imagine playing Mario Kart with him as a foreplay later (gfhsjsbsb)

○when the time to sleep comes he'll flop down on the huge bed like some kind of a log

○ yeah you wake up to grab some water or go piss and have a Satan jumpscare bc either he sleeps with his eyes open (which totally glow in the dark believe me) or he just pretends to be asleep and we will never know the truth

Sitri

○ahhh Sitri my baby

○ like he's totally rocking the leopard print luxury pyjamas bc like that's so Sitri-coded

○he'll spend most of the with his tea on the sofa.The only person allowed to sit next to him is you, just so he can listen to your heartbeat a bit better ~♡

○ paint his nails, paint his nails

○ i totally see Sitri sitting with you in the kitchen, blind testing some awful convenience store tea and listening to him shit talking the diffrent brands while offering you to try some REAL tea (we all know how it may end)

○ when the places for everyone to sleep were decided, he got kinda fussy bc he was somehow expelled from the bed

○ baby got angy, but at least he gets to calmly listen to your heartbeat when you sleep...

Paimon

○ PAIMON PAIMON YAS QUEEN

○ No.1 sleepover fan

○ Literally teleported to you when he heard you say the word ,,sleepover "

○ Literally girls night , painting nails, eating snacks, doing each others hairrrr, playing dress-up

○ totally into watching Barbie movies, especially the Old ones, or some shitty romcoms

○ came up with the idea of organising a Just Dance tournament to decide who gets to sleep next to you,

○ offers you to help you clean off your make up before sleeping to get alone with you for a while

○ good night smooches from Paimon♡

Leraye

○ Golden retriever energyyyy

○ he would probably wear a kigurumi, or some cute long sleeved pyjamas with a teddy bear pattern

○ gets destroyed at Mario Kart oof

○ tbh I headcanon that the whole pillow fight started bc he accidentaly sniped Satan with a pillow from across the room.

○*insert boss battle music*

○ *insert the sounds of gunshots and screams*

○ all Hell breaking loose

○ also he gets really invested in the Barbie movie's story???

○at the end of the day, he goes to sleep with one of satan's decapitated plushie~

Belial

○Happily agrees to joining the party!...*insert jjyu cursing*

○ he comes wearing matching dark read top and bottom, ngl the colour matches his hair highlights nicely

○ also Jjyu is here with a tiny night cap

○Belial seems like that one person who comes to the party to share some banger music they found on Spootify

○ ya know some small talk with himm while the musics plays in the background

○ some time later puts Jjyu in time out bc he got a little out of control

○ in order to keep chatting with him without straining his voice, you decide to whisper to each others ears

○ so romantic

Zagan

○ Most of the time he just keep to himself. Don't worry he's enjoying himself, just not too good with talking.

○honestly i think he'll wear a black tank top and some totally normal pants. Idk he just seems like the neutral clothing type of guy to me.

○Tries to learn some Mario Kart. I mean he still ends on a higher place in the races than Leraye due to everyone """accidentaly""" targeting him.

○ Have you wondered who won the Just Dance tournament?

○Yeah, it was Zagan.

○ He absolutely destroyed Paimon and Sitri, much to their dismay.

○ Now he gets to sleep next to you!

○ Don't worry we keeping this situation "non-horni" so no naughty stuff or smth

○sooo he just lays there with you on his right side and on the left... there's a drooling and snoring Leraye.

Astaroth

○ honestly nobody expected him to actually show up

○but heyyy he and his snake are here!!

○ totally wears the darkest coloured robe and some classy black fluff slippers

○ kitchen talk with you, him and Sitri so real

○ low pitched chuckle coming from him when he sees you goofing around with others

○he loves hearing your laugh

○ agrees to tell you a bedtime story as long as you'll promise him to repay the favour later~

○ he spends the night on the armchair, his snake chilling on his shoulders, while he reads a book he brought to the party

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Paying my respects to people writing fanfics, bc it takes a lot of dedication to push out that many words and not go bonkers...

First time writing anything like that on this site, English grammar defeated me here.

Hope you like it!

-blimgus out

[cheezeybread]

ahhhhh— those hcs for octavinelle with the teasing s/o are so darn cute! it’s okay if i ask for a scenario like the one from when we first met the twins (when we are looking for students who could be harmed in that game) and floyd is just going to squeeze the s/o but instead of backing away like the heartlsabyul boys, the s/o actually leans in and hug him back with a smile because that’s how people greet each other where they came from? and floyd just stands there like: “wait… you were supposed to run so i could chase ya!”

i’m from a latin country and here we always greet or say bye to each other with hugs/kisses and we are just that clingy lmao

Heck yeah, I gotchu! ^^

Sort of ooc Floyd?? I have a headache rn so it's hard to write XD sorrrrryyyyyyyy

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"Yo, yo, yo, what is UP, little goldfishie!" One of the twins yelled out with a giant smile on his face. It would have been a goofy look on anybody else, but those giant razor-sharp teeth made you think twice- and wait, was that a second pair of teeth deeper in his mouth??

Knowing that the whole group was caught, you all moved to be in the full sight of the twins, Ace and Deuce muttering something amongst themselves about how creepy the two were, while Riddle was attempting to firmly chastise the one who called out to him about using silly nicknames. The stern voice Riddle used was apparently not working on the twin, seeing as how he just kept on with that huge smile, his eyes wide.

"But you're so small and red, how are you not a goldfish?" The twin was saying with a laugh- from what you could overhear from Cater, this one was Floyd, which made the quieter one...Jade, was it?

Grim tugged at your sleeve, pulling you down a little closer to his level as he conspiratorially whispered to you "This guy seems like he's a few cans short of a tuna casserole-"

Unfortunately, his voice brought made Floyd aware of his presence, as the eel jerked his head to the side to stare at the direbeast with a crazed look "A talking cat? Now THAT'S something you don't see every day! Can I squeeze you 'til you pop?"

Grim looked panicked, and hid behind your leg....as if you would be much protection, as a magic-less human. Thanks, so-called buddy. "Uh, no? Stay away from me, weirdo!"

Floyd didn't seem too disappointed, instead turning his attention onto you. Behind his looming form, you could just barely make out his brother talking to the others in the group with a cold look "Ain't you that no-magic shrimp that crashed orientation?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Uh, yep. That's, uhm, that's me," You said, mustering up a smile "Shrimp?"

"That's what you are, ain'tcha?" Floyd cackled like a maniac, closing the distance between you two with one stride of his long legs. His arms reached out menacingly, his hands almost looking like claws as he wrapped his arms around you, picking you up off the ground with no trouble at all "Awwww, lookit, Jade, I got me a little shrimpy!"

Instead of running away, like Grim did, you managed to wiggle your arms out of his grip enough to return the hug- that was what this was, after all? It was almost an instinctual reaction, muscle memory from your own world. Physical contact was normal, expected, even. It was how people showed their love for one another, their respect, and even greeted. That's what Floyd was doing now, wasn't it?

Granted, he was holding you so tight that some of your joints popped, but maybe he was just a little overeager.

"Oh- aw, what?!" The twin cried out, setting you down quickly. He gave you a confused look, an eyebrow raised as he stared you down "You're supposed to wriggle away and run! That's half the fun!"

Now you were confused. Wasn't that a greeting-hug, or was he just someone who liked to chase people down with threats of affection?? You made a mental note to ask one of the Sophmores later.

"I thought you just wanted a hug!" You said out loud, sounding just as confused as he was.

Floyd looked back at Jade to get his reaction, but Jade was too busy making threats to notice. So he turned back around towards you and Grim and frowned "You were supposed to run so I could chase ya!"

"...My bad...?" You said slowly, raising a hand up in a surrendering manner "You want to try again? I'll run this time, I swear."

He thought to himself for a moment before shaking his head "Nah, that takes the fun out of it if you're expecting it. Next time I'll getcha, I will! You just wait and see! You'll be so terrified of getting squeezed till ya pop that you run away screamin'!"

"I'll do my best," You promised.

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