#10. Trust Your Instincts

[stmarychampionschool]

Tips for Choosing the Right Preschool for Your Child

Selecting the right preschool for your child is one of the most important decisions parents make during the early stages of their child’s development. The right environment nurtures curiosity, builds foundational skills, and instills a love for learning. With numerous options available, especially when exploring nursery school admission in Indore, it can be overwhelming to make the best choice. Here are some essential tips to guide you through the process.

1. Understand Your Child’s Needs

Every child is unique, and their needs differ. Consider your child’s personality, learning style, and social skills. If your child is active and thrives on interaction, look for schools with ample opportunities for group activities. On the other hand, if they are more reserved, a school with smaller class sizes and a nurturing environment may be better.

2. Research Curriculum and Teaching Philosophy

Preschools follow different teaching philosophies such as Montessori, play-based learning, or academic-focused approaches. Research the curriculum offered by various schools and evaluate whether it aligns with your expectations for early education. Many reputable CBSE schools in Indore incorporate preschool programs that balance academics, creativity, and holistic development.

3. Visit the School Campus

A visit to the preschool is crucial. It allows you to observe the environment, infrastructure, and overall ambiance. Check whether the classrooms are clean, safe, and age-appropriate. Ensure there are ample play areas, both indoors and outdoors, as children need a mix of physical activity and structured learning.

4. Assess Teacher Qualifications and Ratios

The quality of teachers plays a significant role in your child’s learning experience. Inquire about the qualifications and experience of the teaching staff. Additionally, the teacher-to-student ratio is critical. A low ratio ensures that each child gets adequate attention, which is particularly important during early education.

5. Evaluate Safety and Security Measures

Safety is a top priority when choosing a preschool. Ensure that the premises are secure, with controlled entry points and proper supervision. Fire safety protocols, first aid availability, and hygiene standards should also be assessed. This is especially vital when considering nursery school admission in Indore, as ensuring your child’s safety is non-negotiable.

6. Consider Proximity and Accessibility

While quality is essential, proximity matters too. A preschool that is closer to your home or workplace reduces travel time and ensures your child is not fatigued by a long commute. Many parents in Indore prefer preschools attached to a CBSE school in Indore, as they offer the added benefit of continuity into higher education.

7. Talk to Other Parents

Speaking with other parents whose children attend the school can provide valuable insights. They can share their experiences regarding the teaching methods, facilities, and overall satisfaction with the preschool. Parent reviews often offer a realistic perspective on what to expect.

8. Check Extracurricular Activities

A good preschool should offer activities beyond academics, such as art, music, dance, and sports. These activities enhance creativity and physical development, fostering a well-rounded growth environment for your child.

9. Inquire About Fees and Flexibility

Understand the fee structure and ensure it fits your budget. Inquire about any additional costs for activities, meals, or transportation. Some schools offer flexible timings or part-time programs, which can be beneficial for working parents.

10. Trust Your Instincts

Finally, trust your gut feeling. If a school feels right and you’re confident it aligns with your values and expectations, it’s likely a good fit for your child.

Choosing the right preschool sets the stage for your child’s future learning journey. Whether you’re considering nursery school admission in Indore, take your time to research and make an informed decision. A nurturing preschool can ignite a lifelong love for learning and provide your child with the best possible start.

[canihaveacalmtime]

Illegitimate child, that's how people always view you, the youngest prince/princess because you didn't inherit the golden hair from the king, your father, like your other siblings.

For over 10 years of existing, dealing with the servants gossip, your family's looks and low living conditions for a royal member, you just decided that maybe it's time to make a change so that you can soon leave this place. Maybe move to a faraway land or another continent to settle down, hoping that you'd never see any of them ever again.

You begin your moves by showing the servants their places, begin treating yourself so that you don't always look dead whenever you go out of your comfort zone, you also start to dress up more good looking so other nobles won't bother you during gatherings or big parties and over all, showing them their position and how they should treat you.

Despite the fact you may be a bit over-do your moves, you treat them back and be nice, you play fair and that's how other nobles begin to reach out to you, reach out to the person they misunderstood and you did gained a few close friends over time.

Your family noticed your changings as they begin trying to open up to you more but whenever you try to reply to their reach outs, your inner self refused. Maybe it's because of those neglected traumas, because they isolated you somewhere far away from the main castle, maybe because everything is just so new to you so you didn't know how to react or because, you just can't and don't want to connect to them again.

After all, you will leave soon, with the money you gained from a few business doings, heading out for a change of life, ripping the royal title off of yourself.

One evening, you were informed by one of the servants that your father wants you in the main castle for a family meeting so you try to wipe the tiredness you're having and attended. Your family told you that you're not an illegitimate child but a blood by blood royal member as for your hair, it was the enemy kingdom doing. To the past you, hearing this would be a huge change but to you now, does that even change anything? Does their apology even worth anything anymore? No, nothing will change.

"No matter what you say, I'll still leave soon. You won't have to deal with the stain of the imperial family no more." As you leave with a light smile, your brother tries to hold you back but you just lightly shove him off and left.

1 week before your leave, your family seems to be bothering you much more than you intended. How your big brother would visit you every hour of the day, how your older sister would being you hand-made desserts and tea that used to be your favorite, how the queen and king would willingly step inside the dirty tower, your deemed home, to convince you to move back into the main palace as you refuse every offer they gave.

That late night, the night you leave, as you are packing up nearly finish, your sister burst into your room without alarming, telling you that your mother has got injured by an assassinate attempt and that the queen needs you by her side. You are debating, you want your freedom now but you may be bad but not a monster so even if inside you screams 'don't go', you gave in and follow your sister to the main palace, maybe if you trust your instincts and turn around to see how your sister smiles at you, maybe you will have a change of choice.

Maybe if you didn't doubt yourself too much, you wouldn't have gotten trapped inside your new room now in the main palace. The mages did a really good job on preventing you from escaping the room, now that you are completely in their hold, they can show you that they can be the family that you deserved.

Stop crying and hurting yourself, they can't stand seeing you in such a state. If you don't, they have no other choice but to using 'restraints' on you and I'm sure, you wouldn't want that to happen.

[thedensworld]

I Can Fight | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear revealing clothes. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.

Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰

It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.

Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.

"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.

As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?

Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.

As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.

"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.

"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.

Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.

Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."

You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."

"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.

You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."

Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."

A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.

Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.

"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.

Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.

As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.

"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.

You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."

Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."

A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"

Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."

Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.

"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.

A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.

He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.

His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.

***

You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.

As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.

"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."

Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.

As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.

"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.

A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.

You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.

"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.

You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.

Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.

[ghostlyferrettarot]

🎀Pick a Picture:✧˚.🎀༘⋆A glimpse into your near future✧˚.🎀༘⋆

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🌸If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🌸

🎀Masterlist🎀

🍎 Pile 1: The Chariot, 6 of Wands and 8 of Wands.

Hi pile 1! The near future is full of movement, and once you take the reins of your destiny, there will be no turning back. I see your energy coming into contact with new ones, for some reason I feel that some of you will receive a promotion or a manifestation that you have long awaited will come true, but it is not just about waiting for things to happen; it is about making decisions with confidence, about putting your energy in motion towards a goal that has been waiting for you. You may be tempted to stay where you are, to wait for one more sign, but this is the push you needed, the time is now.

However, remember balance. Don't be carried away by impulsiveness; keep your emotions in check to not fall into the temptation of acting only on instinct. The success that awaits you will be achieved only if you have control over yourself and over the circumstances. You have the inner strength to move forward, you just need to trust in your ability to guide you. The energy is in your favor, but discipline is essential!

🍎 Advice: If you have been in doubt about a project or an important decision, this is the time to move forward with your ideas. You have the power to move forward, but make sure you are clear about your goal.

🍎Song:

🩷Pile 2: Death, 4 of Cups and 2 of Pentacles.

Hi pile 2! The near future brings a cycle of closure, of necessary closure that will make room for something much bigger. You are likely leaving behind a phase of your life that no longer serves you, whether in relationships, work, or limiting beliefs. This change may seem painful or scary at first, but it is a necessity for your evolution.

Embrace this process without fear, "only when something dies, can it be reborn" . The changes that are to come can transform your life in ways that you cannot imagine right now. Perhaps not everything will be easy, but what is to come will be much more aligned with what your soul needs. It will take you to the place you need to be and you will meet the right people for you <3

🩷 Advice: Don't hold on to what is happening. Although the closing of this cycle may feel uncertain, remember that the future has something much brighter for you. Open your mind and heart to the new.

🩷Song:

📘Pile 3: The Sun, 9 of Cups and 10 of Pentacles.

Hi pile 3! I see a future full of optimism, joy and clarity. If lately you have been feeling that things were not moving forward or that something was blocking you, the Sun is here to show that the shadows will not last forever. Something wonderful is about to arrive, and all you need to do is allow the light to enter your life. This is a time of rebirth, of starting over with a new perspective, allow yourself to welcome good changes and new starts!

To make this process faster there are past wounds, resentments or doubts that could be blocking this light from shining completely in your life. The future is waiting for you with open arms, but to welcome the new, you need to let go of the old. Only when you do, you will be able to welcome the clarity and happiness that is to come.

📘 Advice: Enjoy the small moments and stop being afraid of happiness. You are about to experience a rebirth. Believe in your power to create a new life. The light is coming.

📘Song:

✧˚.🎀༘⋆Thanks for reading and let me know if it resonated!✧˚.🎀༘⋆

[mechdyke-after-hours]

HEAD MEDIC

a ficlet for @cyberrose2001 and @azu-recentbrainrot . this is for u guys. U both infected me with him. I'm gonna sue. >:(

Ratchet/Human!Reader cunnilingus

painfully soft and fluffy compared to my usual writing. mostly just him eating you out until you fall asleep. mech was HUNGRY.

word count: 1,103

Ratchet was a bit of a hardass most of the time, and most people wouldn't deny that. But good god, he was incredible in bed. You'd heard stories about his party ambulance days, even seen photo and video evidence at some point much to your (very aroused) delight. Sure he was a little older and more battle hardened now, but he retained the passion. Not to mention… the battle scars only added to the appeal.

You spent more time than not at the autobot base. The other mechs had become more than accustomed to you at this point, and you'd even consider them all some of your closest friends. But, even though you loved them to pieces, your favourite time was when they were out on missions, or patrol.

It usually took no more than 10 minutes for Ratchet to start gently running his practiced servos over your form, and no more than 15 minutes for his mouth to be on you.

Today was one of those days.

His servos wrapped around your waist, slowly sliding up to caress your chest softly, squeezing the plush flesh softly. You immediately lean into his touches with an affectionate hum.

“Touchy already? It's been less than 5 minutes, you're so impatient…” You turn around so you can glance up into his optics. His usually bright, kind eyes have darkened ever so slightly and he has what can only be described as a cocky smirk on his face.

“I've been waiting cycles to have you all to myself again…” He mumbled, gently lifting you into his arms. Despite having mass displaced, he was still around three feet taller than you. He pressed kisses to your neck as he walked you to his berth, biting your shoulder gently, his dentae leaving a small red mark. You gasp in surprise, biting your lip to hold back a more embarrassing noise. He lets out a soft laugh “Primus… you're so soft and small… and so fragging sensitive.”

The medic laid you on the lightly padded berth, his servos trailing over your body with practiced delicacy. If there was one Cybertronian to trust with your squishy human form, it was Ratchet. Digits pulled at your clothes, fabric being pulled off with surprising urgency. He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

Your underwear were pulled off quickly, the damp fabric gently held between two digits before he slipped it into his subspace with a grin. You couldn't help but blush, and you felt yourself get wetter.

Ratchet's servos gently pushed your thighs apart, a digit trailing up your slick folds to gently ghost over your clit. He used two digits to spread you open, examining the glistening threads with a hum. “Dirty thing… you're absolutely soaked…” He held up his digits, spreading them apart. Strings of fluids practically dripped down his fingers onto the berth below. “and here you were calling me impatient?” He tutted disapprovingly, reaching up to slide his digits between your lips and into your mouth. You let out a shocked gasp, the slightly sweet, bitter and salty taste of your own fluids mixing with the sharp metallic taste of his plating on your tongue.

Ratchet's digits slipped out from your mouth, reaching back between your legs to rub your own saliva against you, before he leaned down to drag his glossa up your folds. Your back arched, one of your hands clasping over your mouth instinctively. His servos wrapped around your thighs, pulling you as close as possible. He moved his glossa against you like your slick was the finest energon.

Your legs clamp around his helm, and he growls. “That's it sweetspark… you taste so good…” His optics flicker as you meet his gaze, and you can feel him smiling against you. His glossa flicks against your clit, and you yelp. He chuckles again, one servo gently kneading your thigh as the other slides up higher. One large metal digit gently teases your opening, slowly inching its way inside. His glossa lapping against your clit the whole time.

His fingers are massive. Even in his mass displaced frame, his servos easily cover your entire abdomen. One of his digits feels like it could easily be the size of two of your own. The stretch isn't painful, but by god is it a stretch. His digit pumps slowly, but skillfully. He hits every spot inside of you with a surgical and practiced precision. You wouldn't be surprised if he mapped out all your sweet spots and kept a guide in his memory bank for times just like this. Which, to be honest, is a very Ratchet thing to do. He was a master of bringing you to your peak almost embarrassingly quickly. The way he looked up at you with that fucking look in his optics was not helping.

Your lower stomach twists, your thigh muscles clenching and twitching. You squeeze your legs around his helm tighter, and you can feel yourself clenching around his digit. You're so close. So painfully close. “H-hah… Ratchet…” You can barely recognise your own voice with how desperate you sound, and he chuckles softly.

“There, there sweet thing… you're taking my digit so well…” He mumbles, curling his finger up just right. His thrusts increase in speed, hitting your g-spot with each movement. His free servo moves up to your abdomen, pressing down slightly in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His engine purrs. “That's right… overload on my glossa for me sweetspark…”

You do just that.

With an embarrassingly loud cry of his name, your thighs wrap around his helm even tighter, to the point you're almost definitely bruised. You grind against his intake entirely unconsciously. He groans as he works you through your orgasm, relishing in the taste of your orgasm against his glossa. Your breathing slowly returns to normal as you relax your legs, trembling slightly. “F-fucking hell…” You curse, pushing the hair out of your face.

He chuckled again, pressing a quick kiss to your slightly overstimulated clit before he pulled away. His derma glistened with a mix of oral lubricants and your own fluids. “Good job, sweetspark. You're always so good for me.” He moved up to lay next to you, pulling you close to his chassis. His engine rumbled softly as he gently petted your hair, rather affectionately.

You were half asleep by the time he slowly stood up from the berth. He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, mumbling something that you couldn't quite hear, before he headed off back to the main room, leaving you to nap peacefully.

[jasminumdew]

Sylus (werewolf)

Notes: I loveee primal play, it was so fun writing this. I actually finished this about 10 days ago, but a big typhoon went through my place and cut out all power, water, and Internet for a few days, I decided to wait until there was Wi-Fi connection, didn’t think it would be this long. But everything’s fine now, hope you guys enjoy this ^^

Warnings: MDNI, he says “kitten” 3-4 times, pure smut, primal play, chasing through the wood, squirting x2, oral (fem received), piv, knotting, overstimulated

Wc: 1,7k

Event host: @nanamiscocksleeve

Summary: Being in a relationship with a werewolf comes with indulging in his instinct to hunt, and you’re more than happy to being his prey. With this being your first time in this scene, you and Sylus have planned out everything beforehand, he insisted on making sure you’re comfortable and won’t get hurt. It’s simple. You run and he chases after, then when he catches you, you need to act as if you don’t know him, and just unfortunately bump into a werewolf and fight back when that monster tries to mate with you. Sounds hot and easy enough. Ready? Run!

You’re out of breath. Barely a few minutes in this cat and mouse game and you’re already exhausted. You curse under your breath how you should’ve exercised more often for this. But how common it is to be chased in the wood by a werewolf? Your legs were screaming for a break for 10 minutes now. Or was it more? You don’t have any concept of time now, being alone in the dark cold wood, surrounded by darkness and relying solely on the faint light from the moon.

You can hear hardly hear anything besides the sounds of your heavy breath, your legs thumping on the dry grass, and the occasional howl of the beast chasing after you. You don’t know if he is still watching you in the shadow or that you’ve successfully cut your track. But the chances are thin, werewolf are famous for their extraordinary hearing and smelling ability. There’s no way you’ll be able to escape this wood without his canine mark deep into your flesh. Running away from him seems like a really bad idea now that you’re realizing it. Making yourself a small and easy prey to the mighty predator, who gets off on the high adrenaline of this little chasing game. It’s not like you can go back and make a different choice. So you run fast, completely oblivious to where you’re heading to, playing the dangerous game with no way out.

No matter how carefully you planned things out, it still didn’t prepare you for how intense it actually is, deep in the wood with no flashlight in hand, eyes hardly adjusted when everywhere looks just the same. Sylus knows this place in the back of his hand, you know he won’t let anything bad happen and you can trust him with your life, but your heart still beating like a drum, loud and clear in your ears.

Your whole body was burning, demanding for a rest. You hide yourself low, under the thick bush near an old white oak tree. You press your hands on the chest, forcing yourself to keep your breathing and heartbeat to quiet down. You heard an echo caw of a crow nearby, other than those, it’s all too quiet. Strangely so. You peak your head to watch out for any sign that he’s approach closer. Then you hear it, the sounds of a huge beast searching for its sweet prey, too big to hide his presence. You know for a fact that you can only hear him if he chooses to let you, you’re completely in his control. He doesn’t rush, just slowly goes through the surrounding, playing a little mind game with his prey, making her always on guard and overstimulated by fear.

The sudden grunting from behind your neck sends chill down your spine. Your body’s complete frozen, as if you think if you don’t move and keep your breathing even, you’ll disappear from his vision. But you understand it’s the only chance you get before being his meal tonight. Your legs quickly move but to no avail, you couldn’t even run away a few steps before being pushed to the ground on your back, making you yelp from pain. Under the moonlight, a massive wolf lays itself on top of you, heavy weight knocks the remaining air out of your lungs.

His red eyes staring deep into yours, it reminds you of the fresh color of blood, and you, being the center of those, will soon be swallowed whole by it. What looks like a huge wolf shifts into a more human-like one, returning to a hairless body, still bigger than any man you’ve encountered, with his hair the same shade as the pale moon that’s now shining down on his silhouette. Your cheeks and ears turn bright red, observing his naked body, prominent abs and full muscles. Focus focus focus. You chant in your head like casting some kind of spell. You try your best to fight back, pushing his jaw away from your face, biting his hand, kicking him, only to get laugh at. “Come on, struggle a little more for me, kitten”. His deep voice sends a wave of arousal deep to your core, scratches an itch deep down inside you that you tried to hide. “Shut up” you snap, your legs pull to your chest, kicking his belly with your whole strength. His hands grab your ankles with ease, letting your thighs rest on his broad shoulders. Then before you have the time to react, he pushes up your top to your wrists, tying your poor shirt like a bow to keep you from squirming. “There, all nice and pretty. Wrapped like a present for me huh?”, he smirks, kissing your inner thighs through your leggings.

“Let me go you disgusting pervert!”

He doesn’t faze by your words, but instead, his hands find their way to your waistband, pulling it down to your ankles. He hums in amusement with a clear view of your core soaking wet, your pretty clit clenching as if begging for some friction. “Are you sure I’m the pervert here, sweetheart?” he teases, before kissing his way down from your belly, to your inner thighs, then he dives right in, devouring you without mercy. He’s such a messy eater, slurping and sucking on your bundle of nerves so eagerly like he’s gone for days without anything in his stomach. You cry out the sweetest moans, can’t move away from his tongue abusing your sensitive bud, his hands have your thighs in a dead grip, refusing to let go even when you’re twitching and sniffling. You cum hard in his mouth, squirting like a small fountain and he slurps it all in with a satisfying hum.

You let out a shaky breath when his mouth finally left your pussy, drenching in the mixture of your shared fluids. But the relief doesn’t stay for long when you notice his rock-hard cock in his hand, the tip has an angry red shade and his knot swells uncomfortably, waiting to be buried deep inside your wall. He pushes through your first ring with a throaty grunt. You’re always tighter after your first orgasm. Sucking on your neck right on top of his mating bite mark, his cock touches all sweet spots of yours, making you squeeze down on him unconsciously. His red eyes never leave yours, capturing your every expression, every gasp and moan, how your soul seems to be sucked out of your body every time his tip brushes through her cervix.

Your wetness makes it all too easy for his knot to slip in than usual, but he still feeds his knot to you slowly to let you adjust to his size. Your cunt’s so overstimulated with his knot keeps pushing in and out, brushing through your small beans. “Please...” you cry out, wishing your hands were untied so you can reach down and rub it until you reach your peak.

“Hmm? What’s that?” he asks, not even bothering to mask the smugness in his voice.

“Touch me” you plead, gasping for air when he grinds on it more. He turns his head, looking clueless, “But I am touching you, darling? Be more specific and I might give it to you”

Ughh you want to slap his face so badly. He knows what you want and chooses to be mean about it when you crave him so much. His touch feels so good, the only thing you need now is to cum on his thick, veiny cock and squeezing his knot until he burst inside you.

“I need you to rub my clit, I want to cum so bad, please please please I beg you” you whine, clenching down on him oh so sweetly to make him pleased. “Good girl” he chuckles, massaging your sweet spot with his thumb, you whine in pleasure, arching your back. Taking all of his knot, he bites down on your neck, grinding into your G-spot so hard you can see stars. His grinding turns sloppy, he kisses you when you cum together, and that to you was the most heavenly feeling ever.

When you can catch your breath, his thumb moves again, drawing tight circles around your poor clit. “No, please, I can’t anymore” you cry out. He coos, “Yes you can, give me one more, kitten”. His tongue swirls around your nipple before sucking it in, playing with the other with his free hand. A tight knot unravels too fast, you didn’t get to warn him before squirting again, making a mess on his abdomen and thighs. You can feel him twitching inside, the warm fluid paints your wall white again.

He rolls over, careful not to hurt you with his knot, and lets you lie on top of him. He frees your hands from your now creasy shirt and strokes your cheek. “How was it?”. You rest your head on his shoulder, answer sleepily. “I really enjoyed it. Though my legs probably won’t be able to move tomorrow after all those running…and banging” you giggle, breathing in your mate’s scent. Then, suddenly remember something, your head jerks up. “Did you use Mephisto to cheat, Sy? I heard a crow with a very annoying voice, guess you’re not that good at hunting”.

He pinches your cheek, “Are you underestimating my ability? I don’t need assistance when your sweet scent leads me straight to your hiding place”. You yelp, holding your sore cheek and glaring at him. “That’s not fair. I’ll rub all kinds of smells on me next time so you’ll be distracted and I can win for once”. His answer makes your body tingle. “That won’t work because I can recognize my mate’s scent no matter what. Besides, you love it when I win, don’t you kitten?”

You huff in annoyance, hiding your grin in his chest. It won’t be long until his cock starts twitching again, better rest while you can, you have a long long night ahead.

[mistytarot0919]

⏰⏳🕒How to predict timing with tarot cards?

©mistytarot0919 - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work.

Please REBLOG if you find this information useful! ༄˖°🪐.ೃ࿔*

While Tarot cards can provide insights and guidance on a situation, predicting precise timing can be difficult as the Tarot operates on a more intuitive and spiritual level rather than a literal timeframe.

It's important to remember that Tarot readings are meant to provide guidance, not concrete predictions. Trust in the process and allow the messages from the cards to unfold in their own time.

If timing is a crucial aspect of your question, consider seeking additional clarification from the cards or a professional Tarot reader.

Traditional tarot timing correspondences

WANDS - rapid action(hours to days), noon and spring

SWORDS - quick but not as fast as wands(days to weeks), morning and spring

CUPS - somehow slow( weeks to months), evening and autumn

PENTACLES - the slowest of all(months to years), midnight and winter

Note: If you want me to create a deck regarding timing feel free to send me an ask!

you can do it in a calendar spread and look for the first card that is the most representative(THE LOVERS, 2 OF CUPS, 9 OF CUPS - wish card, any of THE KNIGHTS, ACE OF CUPS) - in case if you wonder if a relationship will appear in future

the first card will represent the current month when is possible for the relationship to start/appear

if 2 of Cups is the 5th card - a relationship will appear in 5 months from now

you can also look at what sign the card represents and the relationship can start in that sign period

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Answer to “When?’’ Question According to Major Arcana Tarot Cards

The Fool - When you make a leap of faith, spontaneously

The Magician - When you are ready to manifest it, quickly

High Priestess - You already know when, trust your instinct, night, a new moon; Unrevealed

The Empress  - When factors align, 9 months

The Lovers - When you make a decision

The Chariot - Fast moving card / When you are determined

Strength - When you believe in yourself

The Hermit - Slow moving card/ After a period of self reflection/solitude

Wheel of fortune - When the divine timing is ready, anytime & without notice, soon

Hanged Man - Stagnant, this situation will require your patience. When you change your perspective or surrender and accept, undetermined

Temperance - Things may happen slowly. Patience and moderation

The Tower - Suddenly, unexpectedly, abruptly, immediately

The Sun  - Summer, a year

The Star - When you believe

The Moon - A month

Judgement - Winter, stormy weather

The World - When the divine timing is ready, slowly

Lots of lower numbers - long time

8, 9, 10 cards - rapid conclusion

Using the numbers of the minor arcana it can be an indicator of when an approaching event may be likely to happen. By using a simple mathematical formula, we can arrive at a projection. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟnumber + suit = timing

For example, if the outcome card is the 2 of Wands, we could deduce the following: 2 + days = 2 days

This may suggest the event may happen in two days, or that it will last for two days.

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Asking the right question & Reading the cards first:

By focusing on more specific questions and considering the potential story or sequence of events, you can gain deeper insights into the situation.

When encountering multiple reversed or negative cards, it could indicate obstacles or challenges that need to be addressed before progress can be made. It's all about understanding the nuances and layers within each reading to uncover the underlying messages and guidance.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Minor Arcana Timing Methods - Season Method

Each suit in Tarot is indeed associated with one of the four elements, which in turn correlates to one of the four seasons:

Wands (Fire): Associated with the element of Fire, symbolizing passion, energy, and creativity. This suit corresponds to the season of Spring, where growth and new beginnings are prevalent.

Cups (Water): Representing the element of Water, Cups signify emotions, intuition, and relationships. This suit is connected to the season of Summer, reflecting nurturing and deeper emotional connections.

Swords (Air): Aligned with the element of Air, Swords signify intellect, communication, and mental clarity. This suit is linked to the season of Autumn, where critical thinking and decision-making are emphasized.

Pentacles (Earth): Tied to the element of Earth, Pentacles represent material aspects, stability, and abundance. This suit correlates with the season of Winter, symbolizing practicality, grounding, and financial matters.

The number method in tarot can provide additional insights into timing within a reading.

By considering the numbers on the cards drawn, you can make predictions about when an event may occur.

For instance, if you draw the Six of Wands and the Six of Cups in response to a question like "When will I find love?" the presence of the number six in both cards could indicate a time frame ranging from 6 days up to 6 months for the event to unfold.

This method adds a layer of specificity and helps in understanding the potential timing of future events based on the cards drawn.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Major Arcana Timing Methods: Zodiac Sign Method

Astrological correspondences can also be used to predict timing in tarot readings, particularly with Major Arcana cards. Each Major Arcana card is associated with a specific astrological sign or planet, providing insights into timing and potential events.

By understanding the astrological correspondences of the Major Arcana cards drawn in a reading, you can gain insights into the timing and potential influences of celestial energies on the situation at hand.

The Fool: Aquarius (January 20-February 18)

The Magician: Gemini (May 21- June 20)

The High Priestess: Cancer (June 21-July 20)

The Empress: Taurus (April 21-May 20)

The Emperor: Aries (March 21-April 20)

The Hierophant: Taurus (April 21-May 20)

The Lovers: Gemini (May 21-June 20)

The Chariot: Cancer (June 21-July 20)

The Strength: Leo (July 21- August 20)

The Hermit: Virgo (August 21- September 20)

The Wheel of Fortune: Four fixed signs (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius)

The Justice: Libra (September 21-October 20)

The Hanged Man: Pisces (February 21-March 20)

The Death: Scorpio (October 21-November 20)

The Temperance: Sagittarius (November 21-December 20)

The Devil: Capricorn (December 21-January 20)

The Tower: Scorpio and Aries (October 21-November 20) (March 21-April 20)

The Star: Aquarius (January 21-February 20)

The Moon: Pisces (February 21-March 20)

The Sun: Leo (July 21- August 20)

The Judgement: Scorpio (October 21-November 20)

The World: Capricorn (December 21-January 20)

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡oopsie you already reached the end ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

[im-gonna-sing-the-doom-song-blog]

Dating Jason Todd

Just some thoughts…

1. Protective Instincts: Jason is fiercely protective, sometimes overly so. He often worries about your safety, given his own traumatic past and the dangerous life he leads as Red Hood. This means you'll often find him shadowing you or setting up precautionary measures to ensure you're safe.

2. Intellectual Conversations: Despite his rough exterior, Jason is well-read and enjoys deep conversations about literature, philosophy, and current events. He loves debating ideas with you, especially when you challenge his views.

3. Acts of Service: Jason shows his love through actions rather than words. Whether it’s fixing things around your home, cooking a surprise dinner, or taking care of things you're stressed about, he’s always looking for ways to make your life easier and show he cares.

4.Emotional Vulnerability: It takes time for Jason to open up about his past and his feelings. When he does, it’s a significant sign of trust and love. He appreciates your patience and understanding, and he values the emotional support you provide.

5. Adventure Together: Jason loves taking you on thrilling escapades, from motorcycle rides through Gotham at night to impromptu trips out of the city. He enjoys sharing the adrenaline rush with you and creating exciting memories.

6. Physical Affection: While not always verbally expressive, Jason is physically affectionate. He often holds your hand, hugs you from behind, or brushes his fingers against your cheek. His touch is reassuring and protective.

7. Shared Silence: Sometimes, Jason just needs quiet moments with you. Whether you're reading side by side or sitting together in comfortable silence, he cherishes these peaceful interludes as much as the more intense moments.

8. Supportive Partner: Jason is incredibly supportive of your goals and dreams. He pushes you to pursue your passions and stands by you through challenges, always offering encouragement and practical help when needed.

9. Sense of Humor: Despite his brooding demeanor, Jason has a sharp wit and enjoys making you laugh. His humor often has a dark, sarcastic edge, but it lightens the mood and strengthens your bond.

10. Protective Gear: Knowing the risks he faces, Jason sometimes insists on teaching you self-defense or provides you with gadgets to ensure your safety. He wants you to be able to protect yourself if he's not around.

11. Shared Burdens: Jason sometimes struggles with his sense of guilt and responsibility. You help him by sharing his burdens, reminding him that he’s not alone and that it’s okay to rely on others for support.

12. Memorable Gifts: Jason is thoughtful with his gifts, often choosing ones with deep personal significance or practical utility. Whether it’s a rare book you mentioned once or a custom piece of equipment, his gifts reflect how much he listens and cares.

[expensiveity]

jealousy can hide in compliments, envy can be disguised as support, and hate can hide in love. just because they're giving it to you, doesn't necessarily mean they have it for you and that the intentions behind it are pure. idc how well it’s dressed up. discernment will tell you every time if you would just listen attentively. if you ever get a ickling about anyone. trust your instincts + go with your gut. cause 9/10 chances are it is what it looks like. pay close attention to the energy and not the words and/or actions they potray.

[donutz]

Yandere Catnap x female smiling critter cat reader

Request from Wattpad—! Here you go Shaymi999☆

You weren’t the only cat out of the smiling critters.

There was another one, Catnap. Though, you were very much like him.

You were barely any different from him! The only difference is that you were a girl(and maybe the color, it depends on what color you want to be).

You were quiet, sneaky, hid in the dark, interacted with others, but not so happily. Even if it looked like you hated being at Playtime co, it wasn’t that bad here.

Other than the abusive workers.

And Catnap stalking you.

You didn’t find it that creepy, but it did annoy you a little bit. Why couldn’t he just interact with you? Yet you caught him looking at you every time.

Cat instincts, that’s all. Y’know, maybe he wanted you gone because he wants to be the only cat critter.

You’ll just have to wait.

There would be times where you tried to talk to him, but he’d just walk away.

You don’t know why, he could at least just listen to you. Makes you feel a little sad.

Of course, somebody noticed. That was Dogday.

“Mew, you’ve been seeming kind of down these days, are you alright?”

“... Yea, it’s just that. Catnap’s been ignoring me. I try to talk to him, but he just walks away.”

Dogday furrowed his eyebrows a little, pretty disappointed in Catnap’s actions.

“Oh alright, I’ll try to talk about it with him..”

“Oh, thanks Dogday.”

After that, you caught Catnap right behind you staring at you. It happened quite often.

… At least he wasn’t hiding in the shadows.

.

.

.

But now, 10 years later, he’s always in the shadows.

And 10 years later, you’re here, roaming the halls just like Catnap. You wish you could check up on Dogday, but you can’t Catnap’s too possessive.

If you even tried to sneak around to talk to him, Dogday would be dead the next hour. Not from Catnap’s hands, but from the smaller critters' mouths.

You wish you could just see your best friend one last time.

But you can, just this one time. Why? So you could alert Dogday that his body will be taken over by the smaller critters.

The tinies were listening in of course, excited to finally get their fill.

Why does the only time you get to talk to him the time where you tell him how he dies? Sometimes you wished Catnap wasn’t so possessive. You feel as if he would trust Dogday but— apparently you were wrong.

“Oh.. I guess I’ll have to prepare for the future.”

You wish you could rub your head against his and tell him it’s okay. You wish you didn’t have to tell him the way he dies. You wish you could’ve just passed like the other critters.

What made you so special?

“...” You would’ve told him you’re sorry, but you know Catnap was watching. He would’ve told the smaller critters to make Dogday’s death more painful and slow.

You just want him to be put out of his misery. He could’ve just agreed with serving the prototype and he would’ve lived.

But that’s not the Dogday you know.

And apparently, the player arrived so you have to go.

Even if they were already dealing with the smaller demonic version of the Smiling Critters, Catnap was determined to kill them. Or, to hunt he says.

Catnap wants to kill the player, but wouldn’t mind you doing it instead.

Unfortunately, there were hiding spots in the play area. The place where there’s different colored blocks and random holes that the small ones come from.

You were looking for the player, and since you saw the hiding spots, you looked in them. After some time you finally spotted them.

You grabbed them and threw them on the ground. They used their grab pack and grabbed at your eye. You tried to stop them by grabbing their face, but the hand took your eye out of its place.

And for some reason that singular eye was heavily connected to the organs in your system.

The player scurried towards a possible exit in the place, and ran, leaving you to die by yourself.

Catnap thought you could handle it yourself. But you didn’t.

Not only did you being dead anger him even more. But he didn’t want to hunt anymore, he wanted to torture and kill that stupid player.

He loved you so much that he didn’t even give up your body to the Prototype. You weren’t just some toy, you were his love.

Thankfully, the Prototype accepted the fact Catnap wanted to keep you.

After that, every way Catnap planned just to spook the player, wasn’t just giving them a little scare anymore. It was supposed to terrify them. To make them feel threatened.

To make them scream whenever he came near them.

He even released his red gas to make them have horrific hallucinations.

He nearly killed them, but didn’t, he wanted them to go through the pain he experienced.

But no matter how much torture they went through, it will never make up for the death they caused.

It will never replace your death.

It will never make him as happy as he was when you made him happy.

[geneviveleocardius]

leon kennedy romantic headcanons

after raccoon city trauma, with his now lover

1. First and Always

leon still looks at you the way he did when you first met: like you’re the most incredible person in the room, though now there’s a weight of gratitude in his gaze for sticking by him.

2. Safe Haven

being with you is his escape from the nightmares. “you’re the only thing that makes me feel normal again,” he’ll admit softly after a long day.

3. Shared Scars

your bond is forged in shared trauma, and leon finds comfort in how you never ask him to forget or move on—only to keep going, together.

4. Silent Comfort

some nights, words aren’t necessary. leon will just pull you close, his head resting on your shoulder, letting your presence do what words can’t.

5. Unwavering Loyalty

he’s fiercely loyal to you, to the point where anyone else’s opinion pales in comparison. “if you believe in me, that’s all i need,” he often tells you.

6. Gentle Protector

leon’s protective instincts are strong, but with you, it’s softer—checking the locks twice before bed or pulling you behind him when he senses danger.

7. The Little Things

he’s developed a habit of noticing the smallest details about you: how you like your coffee, the way you scrunch your nose when you’re annoyed, or how you hum softly when you’re deep in thought.

8. Late-Night Confessions

leon tends to open up at night, his guard down as he whispers things like, “i don’t deserve you,” or “i don’t know what i’d do if i ever lost you.”

9. Unspoken Understanding

the two of you communicate in ways that don’t require words: a squeeze of the hand, a look that says everything, or a gentle touch that pulls him back from his darker thoughts.

10. Laughter in the Darkness

you’re the one person who can still make him laugh, your shared jokes and light teasing bringing moments of levity to his heavy days.

11. Nightmares Together

he’s not the only one haunted by the past, and when your own nightmares surface, leon is there to hold you, whispering, “you’re safe now. i’ve got you.”

12. Long Drives and Quiet Moments

leon loves quiet drives with you, where the road stretches endlessly, and the silence is filled with unspoken warmth and occasional stolen glances.

13. Tender Confidence

he’s become more confident over the years, but when it comes to you, he’s still the same awkward man, shyly asking, “does this look okay on me?” when you dress up together.

14. Shared Burdens

leon tries to shoulder the weight of his guilt and trauma alone, but you’re the one person he trusts to share it with, even if it’s hard for him to admit.

15. Your Strength Keeps Him Going

when he feels like giving up, your unwavering support is what pulls him back. “i’m not giving up,” he’ll say. “because you didn’t give up on me.”

16. Memories in the Making

despite the darkness of his past, leon loves making new, lighter memories with you—lazy mornings, shared meals, and quiet nights that remind him life can still be good.

17. Soft Jealousy

while he trusts you completely, leon can’t help but get a little jealous when someone else catches your attention, his pouty silence giving him away.

18. Anchor in the Storm

you’re his anchor, the one constant in a chaotic world. “as long as i have you, i can handle anything,” he says, often with a tired but sincere smile.

19. Endless Gratitude

leon never stops thanking you in small ways, whether it’s by cooking breakfast when you’re too tired or quietly leaving notes like, “thank you for staying with me.”

20. Forever Together

though he’s been through hell, leon looks at you and feels a spark of hope, quietly promising, “no matter what happens, i’ll always be by your side.”

[lostfracturess]

remedies and reasons | ch. 01

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

important — this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting right after chapter twelve. while it can be read as a standalone, reading the original story first will give you a better understanding of the characters and story.

word count — 10.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, fwb, smoking, mature themes, angst, and depictions of illness (will update as the story progresses). reader discretion is advised.

author's note — hey friends !!! i'm so thrilled to share this new story with you, even though i said i wouldn't write two stories at the same time (oops!). this chapter covers mostly chapter twelve of symptoms and causes from suguru's pov, then introduces our new reader protagonist. if you haven't read the original story, some dynamics might be confusing initially, but i hope you'll get the hang of it. remember, you're the law reader here. at the start, there's a different reader (the protagonist from symptoms and causes). i'll note at the beginning of each scene to clarify. now, i'm so excited to hear your thoughts !! reblogs and comments are love <33

masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

next chapter ->

(note: s&c reader)

"You okay?" I asked, cutting through the tense quiet of the operating room.

Her eyes snapped to mine, the usual focus returning. "I'm fine," she said, gaze drifting away as a small frown creased her brow. "Sorry."

I watched her for a moment longer, unable to tear my eyes away. The soft curve of her cheek, the tender worry in her eyes — a painful reminder of what I could never have.

I wondered what she was thinking about. What occupied her mind like this. What could distract her from a surgery she normally loved with her whole being. But deep down, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

The familiar ache in my chest tightened as I steadied my hands, focusing back on the aneurysm pulsating beneath my fingertips. The world shrunk down to the surgical field, the beeping monitor and harsh lights fading away. Just me, her, and the delicate dance of our hands.

"Want to continue?"

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "You want me to clip it?"

"It's a gift," I replied.

"Gift? From who?"

I merely arched an eyebrow.

I didn't really need to say it aloud, did I? She knew.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her gloved hands. I could see her biting her lip, even beneath the mask. Doubt clouded her eyes, a flicker of insecurity that I rarely saw.

Stupid girl. 

Of course you can do it. You've done it before. Don't lose your focus now.

"And because I trust you," I added, my voice softening. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't."

Her focus snapped back to the exposed aneurysm with an almost palpable intensity. Her jaw set. "Okay," she said simply.

There she was. That's the woman I knew.

I moved to stand just behind her shoulder, close enough to monitor her every movement yet giving her the space she needed to work. She slid seamlessly into position at the microscope, her hands sure as they picked up the instruments.

"Focus," I whispered. "You've got this."

Watching her work was a bittersweet torture.

Her hands moved with a grace and precision that belied the complexity of the procedure, each movement precise yet unhurried. She was brilliant — a natural talent with an instinct few could match.

Except, perhaps, one person.

As she prepared to guide the clip into place around the bulging aneurysm, I couldn't help but feel proud. She was incredible and she didn't even seem to realize it.

"Do you ever think I'm... reckless?"

Her question, barely a whisper, caught me off guard.

I flinched, gaze snapping to study her profile. Her hands didn't falter, her focus unwavering. But I could see the question linger in her eyes.

Why would she ask that? Had Satoru put that doubt in her mind?

"Should I be worried that you're pondering this while inches deep in someone's brain?"

"Forget it," she muttered. "Just a fleeting thought."

With a small, dull click, the clip snapped shut. She had done it, and flawlessly at that. 

As I knew she would.

I let out a slow breath, not realizing until that moment how tightly wound with tension I had been. No matter how routine, those high-stakes seconds before clipping always gripped me.

"Well done," I said, watching the tension drain from her shoulders.

She glanced up at me, a genuine smile lighting up her eyes in a way that clenched at my heart. "Thanks, Suguru."

Oh, those eyes.

It pains me that it was him she was looking at with those soft, adoring eyes.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

The water stung, colder than usual.

I scrubbed my hands next to her, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. Lost in thought again. I could tell. Her movements were mechanical, detached, her hands pale under the harsh fluorescent light. 

She was a mere shadow of her former self.

Damn it, Satoru. What did you do to her to get her this hollowed out? I wanted to put my fist through his face for the worry he constantly caused her. And the worst part was, she didn't even know the half of it.

I should tell her, right?

It was the right thing to do, to warn her about his failing liver, his addiction slowly eating him alive. She deserved to know, to be prepared.

But I couldn't. I'd made a promise. And he'd promised to get his shit together. But how much were those promises worth, really?

I know how this story will end. 

I'd seen it play out too many times.

I cleared my throat, pushing the thoughts away. "I'm proud of you," I said, trying to break the silence.

"Huh?" She looked at me, confusion clouding her eyes.

"How far you've come," I clarified, trying to get the words out right, but they still sounded hollow. How could I tell her how damn proud I was of the incredible woman she'd become? "Really, you're doing a great job. With the surgery, the research—you have a great future ahead of you."

She gave me a weak smile, then turned her gaze back to her reddened hands. 

She was trying to hold it together, I could see that. And it killed me to see her like this, struggling while I felt powerless to help shoulder her burdens. I wished she'd just open up, tell me what was wrong. But again, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"How are you doing?" I asked gently. "Really?"

"Holding up. Somehow."

I observed her closely. Even without her looking at me, I could feel the weight of her struggles pressing down on her.  She was always so strong, so confident, but this was different. I'd never seen her so—broken. It was like the life had drained out of her. And it damn hurt.

"New semester treating you okay?"

Stupid question, I know.

"Bit stressful," she admitted. "I have to retake a few exams."

Yeah, and whose goddamn fault is that?

God, I'm repeating myself, but I knew the answer. 

I hate the answer.

I hate it so damn much.

"Listen, if you need any help—" I began, wanting desperately to ease her burden.

"Thank you, Suguru," she cut me off, shutting off the faucet with a harsh twist. "But unless you're offering to take my tests for me, I'm afraid this is on me."

She turned and reached for a towel, the action more frantic than usual. I watched her, frustration and helplessness twisting in my gut. I wanted to do more, to be more for her, but how could I when the one she really needed was — not me.

Truth was a bitter pill I had to swallow every damn day.

As she dried her hands, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I turned off the water. "I'm sorry things turned out like this for you," I said, the words almost painful. "But it's for the best, for him and for you. We did what we had to."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

I grabbed a towel. "Hm?"

"What do you mean with, 'we'?"

Shit.

I froze mid-movement, my jaw tightening involuntarily. Damn it, I hadn't meant for that to slip out.

Her eyes bore into me, demanding answers. "What did you and Satoru talk about that night? The night before the hearing? I know he was with you."

I remembered it all too well.

Satoru showing up at my door in the middle of the night, shaking, sweating, barely holding onto his sanity. The ethics committee wanting to see him bleed, the guilt eating him alive over dragging her down with him, his addiction — it all become too much.

He didn't know what to do, what the right thing was. And I helped him see reason.

Or at least, that's what I told myself.

"It's nothing important. He was confused, and I helped him clear his head."

"What does that mean? What did you say to him?"

Her hands gripped the edge of the sink until her knuckles showed bone-white through the skin. She wasn't going to let this go.

Damn it, how could I get out of this?

She deserved the truth, I knew that. But I'd sworn to Satoru I wouldn't tell. My mind raced, searching for an explanation, but the truth was, there wasn't one.

Damn it, Satoru. Why do I always have to clean up your messes?

"Tell me what the fuck you said to him!"

And then I saw it. A flash of hurt in her eyes, a vulnerability I'd never seen before. It shattered me. She was so hurt. My beautiful, strong girl was so hurt and there was not a damn thing I could do to ease her suffering.

Because she was with him.

And I was on the sidelines, forced to watch Satoru tear her apart piece by piece — until there was nothing left.

I hated it. Hated Satoru for causing her so much pain.

I couldn't take it anymore. Sorry, Satoru, but screw you and your lies. This was different, because she was different.

"Isn't it obvious?" I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I told him to end this. That it would destroy you, and that he should take responsibility for once!"

She flinched, her eyebrows drawing together as she mutely shook her head. "You had no right. You had no fucking right to do that!"

No right?

Oh pretty, I know that better than anyone. But how could I stand by and watch her get dragged down with him? No. Not anymore. I refused.

"No right?" My voice matched hers. I hated how this entire wretched situation had me losing control, lashing out at her when Satoru was the one who deserved it. "And watch you both go down? Satoru was a ticking time bomb! It was better this way—better him destroyed than you dragged down with him."

"I had him, Suguru!" she shouted. "I almost had him trusting me enough, trusting us enough, to let me help him, damn it!"

I almost laughed, but it stuck in my throat. It hurt too much to see the hope still clinging to her eyes. "You're delusional. He can't change. You know that. It would always have ended like this."

"My god, I can't believe your audacity! You ruined everything!"

I ruined everything?

Maybe it wasn't fair of me, maybe my own feelings were clouding my judgment, but damn it, I couldn't watch this anymore. Not when I could still taste the embers in my mouth each time I saw the deadened look in her eyes.

I stepped closer, my jaw clenched. She flinched back, but I kept going. I'd watched Satoru hurt her too many times. I couldn't stand by any longer.

I had to shatter her delusion.

"You know how many times I've seen this play out? The promises to change? I've seen it too often. He won't get better, and I won't let him drag you under with him. Not you."

Her back hit the sink. I stepped closer, until I felt the sudden searing burn of her warmth radiating against me, the intoxicating floral notes of her scent filling my senses until I thought I might lose it from proximity alone.

My hand twitched, moving before my mind could catch up. I wanted to pull back, but I couldn't.

Fingertip traced the delicate line of her jaw, trembling slightly at the contact I craved so much. I fought the urge to let my touch linger, to commit every precious dove-soft plane and angle to memory while I still could.

"This is for the best," I rasped out. "You're young, brilliant. This—relationship with Satoru, it would have ruined you."

"Don't you dare," she hissed, eyes blazing as she swatted my hand away. "You have no right to decide what's best for me."

"Yes, I do. Because I was the one who got you here in the first place, it was my doing, and I—" My voice caught in my throat. "I don't want to see you hurt."

The silence that followed was deafening.

I couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the pain I'd caused reflected in her eyes. I'd done what I thought was right, what I believed was necessary to protect her. But in doing so, I had become the very thing I despised—a barrier between her and the happiness she deserved.

Perhaps I'd just screwed everything up even more. And it was killing me.

"Why are you saying this now?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

I wanted to tell her everything. 

I wanted to confess the depth of my feelings, the months of silent longing that felt like a steadily tightening noose around my neck whenever I witnessed her happiness with him, the aching, hollow pit that seemed to consume more of me with every smile, every tender caress between them that I wasn't the recipient of, the gut-wrenching jealousy that flayed me from the inside out whenever she looked at him with those devastatingly soft, adoring eyes that held nothing but indifference for me, the—

Sorry.

I'll stop now.

It didn't matter anyway, did it?

The words wouldn't come.

I couldn't, wouldn't allow myself to cross that line.

All I could do was look at her, my heart splitting apart from the violence of my want with every beat. The urge to reach out, to pull her against me, was almost overwhelming. But I held back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I'd already done enough damage.

Then, my damned gaze flickered down.

Those lips. God, those lips.

Soft, slightly parted, the bottom one bearing the faint imprint of her teeth—a nervous habit I'd caught myself watching, savoring, hating myself for noticing.

How many times had Satoru kissed those worry marks away? How many times had I wanted to?

I'd lost count of the nights I'd lain awake, imagining her mouth on mine, her lips parting to gasp my name—not his. It was torture, this constant craving to know their texture, their heat, their taste.

It was wrong, so fucking wrong, to think about her that way.

But there I was, night after night, picturing those lips forming my name in a way friends never do. Dreaming of tasting them, feeling them, knowing them in every way I shouldn't.

And it hurt.

I sucked in a hard breath.

Sorry, Satoru. I can't keep this to myself anymore.

"You know damn well why."

I couldn't say it out loud, couldn't bring myself to admit aloud what she patently refused to see with her own eyes. No. I simply couldn't.

"No," she breathed. "You can't—"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me that."

I already know that painful truth, pretty. It was a wound that refused to heal. I'd lived with that realization for far too long.

Suddenly, my pager blared, shattering the moment. Damn it. I cursed under my breath, pulling out the device. My face went taut as I read the message.

Yaga: Office. Now. Bring the student too.

That bastard. Why the hell did he want to see me now? And why her? Was it something Satoru screwed up again? Or something else? Did Satoru get the same message?

This couldn't have come at a worse time.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching mine. I couldn't meet her gaze. Not after I'd betrayed not only her, but Satoru too, with my stupid, selfish feelings.

"Yaga," I choked out. "Wants to see us. Now."

Our eyes finally met, hers filled with questions I've longed so much to answer.

"Why?"

"I...I don't know. But we should go. Come on."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

My foot tapped a nervous beat on the scuffed wooden floor.

Why was I so damn nervous? I knew Yaga's games, been through them a thousand times. But this felt different. Because she was here. And she shouldn't be.

A knot tightened in my gut.

He wouldn't bring up that topic again, would he?

I glared at Yaga, willing him to just spit it out already. My eyes flicked to her, sitting stiffly beside me. Her face was a mask. I wondered what she was thinking about. Was she thinking about what I said? Or about—no, I didn't even want to think about that.

I know, I know, I'm repeating myself.

I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"So, shall we begin?" Yaga's voice finally cut through the silence, like he'd been enjoying our discomfort. Damn old bastard. "I've called you here to discuss a research project that I want you to redo."

He slid a folder across the desk towards her.

No name, just a mess of loose papers threatening to spill out. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she opened it. Then her grip tightened on the file. I leaned closer to see what had her so tense, and my stomach dropped.

I knew that title.

Knew it better than anyone, except maybe the one person who'd written it.

"You want me to redo a study that was completely pointless?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"Yes," Yaga said simply.

"The results were inconclusive. A dead end."

"Your research held promise. Dr. Geto never failed to remind me." Yaga's eyes flickered to me. "Now, you have better resources, better support. You can refine it, perfect it."

Damn it. I should've kept my mouth shut.

Regret gnawed at my insides like acid. Regretted telling him what a brilliant mind she had, how much she deserved to be here—among the best. 

Because she did.

She was a natural, something I'd rarely seen before, maybe only in Satoru. Hell, it was like watching a younger Satoru at work. And it hurt. It was painful to see so many parallels between them, knowing that I could never measure up to him in her eyes.

I'd brought her here because I believed in her. Because I wanted her on my research team, because I wanted to work with her. But now, I wasn't so sure.

Had I screwed up? Was I the reason she was in this mess? Had I brought her here only to watch her world fall apart?

I didn't want to admit it. Couldn't bear to be the cause of her pain.

I glanced at her, catching her eye. Frustration and confusion were written all over her face.

Shame washed over me.

It was stupid, I know. I shouldn't feel ashamed for recognizing her talent, for bringing her here where she belonged. She deserved it all. But I couldn't shake the feeling that without me, she would've been better off.

Without me and Satoru.

Her knuckles turned white as bone as she gripped the file tighter, then slammed it shut.

"That's not the point," she said. "My CAR-T Therapy research was theoretical, a mathematical model that was inherently flawed. All the best equipment in the world won't change that. It's a black hole."

Yaga leaned forward. "Listen, we have a generous donor. I think you met her at the conference? She took quite a liking to you. Her husband recently succumbed to this very type of tumor."

I knew it.

Yaga, the greedy bastard, never changed his stripes.

The silence was heavy, the only sound the insistent ticking of the clock on the wall. Her mind was racing, I could feel it. So was mine.

I must have spaced out for a second, because the next thing I knew, she was speaking again, her voice dangerously low. "You want to use me to exploit a grieving woman just to line your pockets?"

Yaga's mouth hung open, the smug look wiped clean off his face.

In any other situation, I would have laughed. She, a mere student, had managed to stun the all-powerful Yaga into silence. But the situation was anything but funny. Still, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. She was something else.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. I didn't even need to turn my head to know who it was.

"What the hell is going on here?" Satoru's voice boomed through the room.

Yaga's face hardened. "Dr. Gojo, what a... surprise. Here I thought you might have finally bothered to read your emails."

"Cut the bullshit, Yaga," Satoru spat. "This is a new low, even for you. Forcing a student, exploiting a grieving widow—have you no shame?"

Yaga rubbed his temples, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Dr. Gojo, your dramatics are exhausting. Do you understand the costs your actions have inflicted on this institution? A shred of gratitude, a willingness to shoulder some responsibility, might be a welcome change."

"Responsibility? You want to talk about responsibility? You're exploiting a woman in the depths of grief, using one of my students as a bargaining chip. What the hell happened to you, Yaga?"

The two of them went at it, their words flying back and forth faster than my eyes could follow. 

Yeah, Satoru sure knew how to make an entrance. Not a trait that was always helpful in situations like this, because something in Yaga snapped at his words.

Yaga stood up so abruptly his chair screeched against the floor. "Happened to me? Dr. Gojo, have you considered the consequences of your reckless behavior? You're the one spiraling, and frankly, it's becoming unbearable."

Damn, these two were about to kill each other. Satoru should know better than to provoke Yaga like that. The old man was stubborn as hell. But so was Satoru.

I closed my eyes briefly, then stepped between them, forcing myself to sound calm. "Director Yaga, please. She's a student, her focus should be on her studies."

"Of course, which is why you and Dr. Gojo will provide your expertise. Your old lab is free to use, funds are secured, equipment at your disposal. You have free rein."

Huh?

I narrowed my eyes. As if that made it any better.

Satoru let out a bitter laugh. "Free rein? Or free rein to do as you please? Despicable, Yaga. Truly despicable." He leaned back, folding his arms.   "And wasn't I suspended? Investigations and all that? But I suppose principles go out the window when money enters the picture."

"You have no right to dictate what happens here, Gojo," Yaga snapped, his composure slipping. "You answer to me. This research holds immense potential, not just for the university, but for the field itself. You will do it. End of discussion."

"Potential? Or is that just fancy code for fattening your wallet, Yaga?"

"Don't play dumb, Gojo. You, of all people, know exactly how the game is played."

"Don't. Do. This." Satoru leaned forward, his chest brushing against my hand as I tried to hold him back. "Involve her in your schemes, and I swear—Leave her out of this. Suguru and I can do the damned research, but let her focus on her studies."

"You're in no position to bargain. I can make things incredibly difficult for you, Gojo. Throw away all that potential, all that talent... it would be a shame, wouldn't it? But I am more than willing to do so if you prove uncooperative."

Smug bastard was really pushing it today.

He was nothing without us, and he knew it. This whole place would crumble without Satoru and me. We were the ones who brought in the grants, the prestige, the groundbreaking research. And yet, he treated us like we were disposable.

I pushed Satoru back, stepping up to confront Yaga directly. The urge to wipe that smugness from his face with my fists was nearly overwhelming, but I forced control over my rage. One hothead was more than enough for today.

Still, my words came out in a tone of barely restrained menace. "Director. Dr. Gojo has a point. This research will be a massive distraction. Her studies should be her priority."

"Yes," Yaga drawled. "I heard about her recent... setbacks." Yaga sank back in his chair and opened his laptop. "A failed practical exam, a theoretical test barely passed. And this isn't the first time, is it?"

He turned the screen towards her, her failing grades a glaring red on the display. "Tell me, which subject would you like to miraculously pass? A click of my fingers, and it's done."

Before I could say anything, Satoru exploded.

"You blackmailing piece of shit!"

"Blackmail?" Yaga said. "No, blackmail would be threatening to cut her scholarship, endangering her entire future here... which, thankfully, our generous donor would be more than happy to preserve."

This was too much. 

Now he had two pissed-off neurosurgeons on his hands. I braced my hands on the desk, leaning towards him. "Yaga, this is beyond the pale! This blatant manipulation—"

Suddenly, her voice cut through the tension. "I'll do it. I'll work on the research."

The room fell silent. 

Satoru and I both whipped around to look at her. Her gaze was fixed on Yaga, not flinching. There was something defeated about her, something I wasn't used to seeing. It chilled me to the bone. She wouldn't give in like that. I knew her better than that.

But what had changed?

"Someone finally sees reason," Yaga said, breaking the silence. "You start this week—"

"No," Satoru interrupted. "That's not up for debate. We start next week."

"This week," Yaga repeated, his voice firm.

Leaning in, Satoru's voice took on a dangerous edge. "Next week. Or I walk out that door and you can find yourself a new star surgeon."

Huh?

Why did the start date matter so much to him?

Was that the real issue here?

"Dr. Gojo, you are exceedingly close to losing my goodwill," Yaga ground out. "Fine. Next week."

Satoru backed off and started to pace the room. I glanced at her, who was still sitting silently in her chair. She looked so small, lost in the shadows of Yaga's office. I wanted to wrap her in a hug, tell her it would all be okay.

But it wasn't my place. I knew the answer—

Sorry.

I'll not repeat myself yet again.

My gaze shifted back to Yaga. "And if we find nothing? Months, years, wasted on a dead-end?"

"You'll continue as long as the funding lasts."

"Of course," Satoru spat from across the room.

"Well, look at the bright side, Gojo," Yaga said, adjusting his glasses and focusing on some papers on his desk. "I just approved that fancy new CT scanner for the ER. Isn't that what you've been whining about? Finally found some spare change in the budget, did we?."

"You fucking bastard," Satoru hissed.

Yaga merely shrugged. "Everyone has to play their role, Gojo."

I watched the exchange with a growing sense of disgust. Yaga's power plays were nothing new, but this — this was something else. Exploiting a grieving widow's generosity, using my student's academic struggles as leverage. It was sickening. 

I'd always known Yaga was ruthless, but this level of manipulation left a sour taste in my mouth. He was like a parasite, feeding off the brilliance and drive of others, all while masquerading as an advocate for the institution's best interests.

I clenched my jaw.

How could I continue to work for a man who treated his students and staff as mere commodities to be exploited?

Suddenly, I heard a shaky breath behind me.

I turned to see her staring blankly ahead, her body trembling ever so slightly. "If you'll excuse me," she whispered, then abruptly stood up and practically fled the room.

"Wait—" I started, but she was already gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Fuck you, Yaga!" Satoru shouted, slamming his fist against the wall hard enough to leave a mark. "This is your fault, your doing!" With that, he stormed out after her.

And I couldn't follow.

All I could do was try to clean up the mess that was left behind.

As soon as they were gone, I turned back to Yaga, who seemed to think the conversation was over. Oh, but it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

"You know about them," I said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"It's obvious even to a blind man, Dr. Geto," Yaga replied, his eyes glued to the papers on his desk.

"And you're just going to ignore it?"

He looked up, a cold glint in his eyes. "I finally found Gojo's weakness. Why would I let that go? At long last, I have a way to make him obey me."

I scoffed. In one swift motion, I swept the papers off his desk, scattering them across the floor. I leaned forward, my hands braced on his desk, glaring at him.

"This crosses a line, Yaga. You've gone too far."

His eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone, Dr. Geto. You're treading on dangerous ground."

"No, you are!" I shot back, my voice rising. "You're exploiting her, using her for your own gain. You think you can manipulate everyone, but you're wrong."

"Control? Greed? Those are harsh words coming from you," Yaga retorted, standing up to face me. "And here I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Understand your greed? Not a chance."

"I don't care if you like my choices or not. This is how things work. You can play by the rules, or be replaced. Don't delude yourself into thinking you're irreplaceable, Dr. Geto."

"Your arrogance is going to cost you another surgeon if you don't watch it. You drove Sukuna away, and now you're halfway there with Gojo and me."

"Sukuna was a different story!" Yaga snapped, his face contorted with a rage I couldn't quite comprehend. He quickly regained his composure, but the outburst had left an uneasy silence in its wake.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw Shoko's name. Frowning, I answered the call. "Shoko? What is it?"

"Suguru, there's a patient here who insists on seeing Satoru. She says it's really important, but he isn't answering his phone, and she won't leave.“

"Why can't you see her yourself?"

"I need a neurologist's assessment," she replied. "And she specifically asked for Satoru. They had an appointment scheduled, and she's adamant about seeing him."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "There are other neurologists on staff right now."

I could hear her sigh on the other end of the line. "She's never seen anyone else here, Suguru. I'm pretty sure there's a reason she's so insistent on Satoru. Just look at her, do me a favor."

"Alright, I'll be there soon," I conceded. "Bring her to my office."

I ended the call and turned back to Yaga. I took a deep breath, trying to quell the rage that threatened to consume me. "This isn't over. Not by a damn sight."

"Yeah, yeah, Dr. Geto, as always," he dismissed me, already back at his papers. "By the way, there's a legal consult regarding this research coming up for you and Gojo. We don't want a repeat of past indiscretions, now do we?" He looked up at me.

I wanted to smash his smug face in. 

I turned and stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind me. My blood was boiling, my fists clenched tight. I hated this whole damn situation. Hated Yaga, hated his manipulative tactics, hated how he was using her. But most of all, I hated feeling so goddamn powerless.

As I walked down the corridor, my anger slowly hardening into resolve. Yaga might think he was in control, but he was wrong. I wouldn't let him manipulate her, or Satoru, or anyone else.

Not this time. Not ever again.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I made my way to the hospital.

A damn patient was really the last thing on my mind. I had more important things to do than deal with a hysterical patient. What was it even about? Why did it have to be Satoru she wanted to see? Some relative of his?

I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself, but the downpour between the parking lot and the main entrance made it damn near impossible. By the time I got inside, I was soaked to the bone. No umbrella in sight, of course.

My office door was slightly open. I pushed it in, expecting to find some old lady or something. Instead, a young woman sat in the chair across from my desk. Mid twenties, maybe, with a delicate, almost fragile look about her. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.

The office was dark, the lights off, which struck me as odd given the gloomy weather outside. But the light from the window beside her illuminated her face, and I had to admit — she was beautiful.

I must have hesitated overlong in the doorway, because her gaze suddenly snapped up to meet mine, those stunning eyes of hers holding me captive. "You are not Dr. Gojo."

"I'm Dr. Geto," I managed, clearing my throat against the strange tension. "You not fond of light, are you?" I asked pointing towards the light switch.

"I like it a bit dimmed," she said, and I didn't question it further.

I stepped into the room, glancing down at my clothes. Not exactly the most professional look for a doctor, standing there soaked through in front of a patient. I threw on my white coat, but it did little to hide my damp appearance.

"You were here for Dr. Gojo, right?" I said as I sat down behind my desk.

"Yes," she said, her eyes following my every move.

"I'm sorry, but he isn't available right now. But I'm a neurologist as well. Perhaps I can help you instead?"

She slid a piece of paper across my desk, her hand still resting on it. "I just need a signature here."

"A signature?" I leaned forward, water dripping from my hair onto the form. I quickly pushed my wet strands back. "This is a health screening form."

"Yes." Her eyes darted nervously to mine. "I need it for my job."

"Can I take a look at it?" I made to take the paper, but her hand remained firmly in place.

"Just the signature, please. Then I'll be out of your hair."

I raised an eyebrow. "I can't sign something without knowing what I'm signing."

Her brow furrowed, and she snatched the form back. "Sorry to have wasted your time," she muttered, starting to get up.

"Wait," I said, stopping her mid-motion. What was it about this woman? What did Satoru have to do with any of this?

"Tell me." I leaned back in my chair. "What did you and Gojo agree on regarding this?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "Dr. Gojo agreed to sign it without asking too many questions."

Something didn't add up. Satoru might be an addict, but he wasn't reckless with patients.

"I swear, I'll give you the signature you need if you'd just let me take a look at it first."

Reluctantly, she slid the form back across the desk, avoiding my eyes. I scanned it quickly, my brow furrowing as I saw the long list of medications, mostly anticonvulsants. 

That explained the lights being off.

"You have epilepsy." I looked up at her. Why would she think either of us would sign this without checking it out first?

"Yes."

"And you're currently taking all these meds?" I gestured to the list.

"Yes."

I leaned back, studying her face. "And Gojo knew about this?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any other words in your vocabulary besides 'yes'?"

Her brow furrowed, and a flicker of defiance flashed in her eyes.

I sighed. "Come on, sit down."

Reluctantly, she settled back into the chair.

I studied her face, looking for any signs of her epilepsy — a slight tremor in her hands from the Topiramate, maybe. But there was nothing. She was perfectly still. Satoru must have found the right dosage.

The silence stretched on. I waited for an explanation, and she knew it. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"He's been treating me for a while," she finally said.

"I see. And he agreed to sign this health screening form for you?"

"Yes—"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Look, Dr. Geto, I really need this for my internship," she pleaded. "It's really important to me."

I glanced back down at the form. "Nishimura and Asahi, huh? That's a big deal. You're a law intern?"

"Yes, I am. I'll be working there for the next semester."

I skimmed the papers again, test results, MRI scans. "So, you're almost done with your studies?"  I asked, not looking up.

"I do my second state examination after my internship, yes, then I'm done."

"Hmm." I looked up from the papers, the rain drumming against the windows, the only sound in the otherwise silent office. She stared at me, unwavering.

"So you're preparing for your final exams while working the internship? Sounds stressful," I tried to broach the subject carefully.

"Please, Dr. Geto," she said. "I just need a signature on this paper, and I'm out of here."

I sighed. "I understand. But I can't just sign this without checking in on you first. I need to run some tests, make sure you're fit for work."

My eyes scanned the papers again. Blood tests and medication checks were recent, but the MRI scans were outdated. Even Satoru wouldn't have let her slide with that.

"Look, we can make this quick," I offered. "Your MRI scans are old. We take new ones, and then—"

"No," she blurted out, her voice rising in panic. "I mean, isn't there another way?"

"Another way to look into your brain?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid not."

She bit her lip, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap, saying nothing.

"Look, it's crucial for me to get a clear picture of your brain activity," I explained. "It's the only way I can make sure you're safe and healthy. Otherwise, I can't sign that form."

She looked up at me again. "I... I can't do MRIs. I'm not really comfortable with enclosed spaces."

Huh?

Was that the problem?

I ran a hand through my damp hair, looking back at her scans. "Your last scans were done by Dr. Gojo too, right?"

"Yes."

She was a woman of few words, it seemed.

"Was there something special Dr. Gojo did that made you feel more comfortable in the MRI? Did he give you any medication? Vistaril? Valium?" I knew it wasn't that, though. Those drugs would interact badly with her other meds.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking like she might throw up any second. "He... held my hand."

Ha?

My eyebrows shot up. "He held your hand?"

She lifted her chin and looked away. "It... it helped."

I can only imagine the dumbfounded look that must have settled on my features as I processed her words. I couldn't picture Satoru, who rather had his patients in and out in mere seconds, being so patient and caring with anyone. Let alone holding their hand through a brain scan.

She crossed her arms, a stubborn look on her face. "I swear, nothing weird happened. He just held my hand, that's all."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny," she protested, her cheeks flushing. "It was really embarrassing."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," I teased, enjoying her flustered reaction. "But it's also quite cute."

She huffed, turning her head away. "It's not cute. It's just... something he did."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. "And would you like me to do the same?"

Her eyes narrowed, a spark of challenge in them. "His hands were really soft."

"Is that so?" I leaned back in my chair. I could see the wheels turning in her head, her stubbornness a thinly veiled attempt to stall for time.

"And warm."

"Aha."

"And he had this way of holding my hand," she started, demonstrating with her own hands. My eyebrows shot up even higher as she mimicked Satoru's thumb stroking her knuckles. "Like this."

Somewhere in the middle of her demonstration, she must have realized how ridiculous this was, because she abruptly stopped.

"Don't laugh!" she warned, and I realized I was indeed grinning like an idiot.

Before she could object, I reached out and took her hand in mine.

Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate. I held her gaze, challenging her silently. Not sure what I was trying to prove, but the warmth of her hand in mine felt... good. I knew I was crossing a line here, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"See? Not so bad, is it?"

She didn't say anything, but her grip tightened a bit. I held her gaze for a few more seconds, then my thumb brushed against the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. She seemed to relax slightly under my touch.

Her eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route. "I... I suppose."

I couldn't help but let the moment linger, our hands still intertwined. I noticed a slight tremor in her fingers, and my thumb instinctively smoothed over her skin again.

She suddenly gasped. "That's... quite weird."

"And with Gojo it wasn't weird?"

She shook her head, eyes glued to our hands. "No. I just realized it's weird in general."

I smiled. "Well, then it's settled. We'll schedule your MRI for tomorrow morning."

"You're not like other doctors."

"Perhaps not," I said, finally letting go of her hand. "But you're not exactly your average patient either."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gestured towards my soaked shirt. "You're the doctor who's completely drenched. I can practically see your skin underneath. Not very professional, is it?"

I glanced down at my sopping clothes. I hadn't even realized how see-through my shirt was. "For someone who's afraid of an MRI machine, you sure have a big mouth."

She crossed her arms. "And for someone who just held a patient's hand without their explicit consent, you sure have a lot of nerve. That's a violation of medical ethics, you know. I could report you for that."

"A law student, are we?" I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Perhaps you should focus on passing your exams before you start threatening lawsuits."

"Yeah, well, I'd need that signature before I can do that, wouldn't I?"

"Fair enough." I stood up, keys in hand. "Until tomorrow then. Try not to sue me in your sleep."

I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me. "Just so you know, Dr. Geto. I'm not afraid of MRI machines. I just don't like them."

I turned back, a grin spreading across my face. "We'll see about that tomorrow, Attorney," I challenged. "We'll see about that."

The hallway was empty, the silence broken only by the steady drip of water from my clothes. As I walked, the adrenaline of the encounter faded, replaced by the familiar weight of the day's earlier events. The tense confrontation with Yaga, the lingering ache for her — it all came back, a dull throb in the background of my thoughts.

Her face.

Her eyes.

That damn smile.

I ran a hand through my hair.

Fuck.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I held my promise.

Her fingers were cold and clammy, her pulse racing beneath my touch. My thumb traced the back of her hand, hoping to convey some sense of comfort. The MRI machine's steady thrum filled the room, but beneath it, I could still hear her shallow breaths.

How the hell did I end up here? Holding hands with a patient during a goddamn brain scan was definitely not in my job description.

"Can you tell me something?" she asked. "Dr. Gojo always talked to me while I was in here."

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you and Dr. Gojo meet?"

I hesitated, slightly irritated by the personal question.

"We've known each other our whole lives. Kindergarten, elementary school, high school... we didn't always get along. He can be a real pain in the ass. But somewhere along the way, we just clicked. Been stuck together ever since. Same university, now working together."

"So you've never been apart?"

"Not really," I said, continuing to soothe her hand with my thumb. "I think the longest we were separated was when he did a semester abroad. Six months, maybe."

"Wow. Sounds like you're an old married couple."

I huffed. "Yeah, somehow we were that."

"Were?"

I looked up, realizing I'd slipped into past tense.

There was a long silence as I thought about it. We used to be so close, inseparable. There was nothing we didn't share, nothing that could ever come between us. But lately, it felt like we were drifting apart.

Maybe I was only realizing it now.

"Oh, I..." I trailed off. I rested my chin on my free hand, looking away from her. "I guess it's only natural. People drift apart. Life happens."

What the hell was I doing?

This was some random patient of Satoru's, a complete stranger. I should've stuck to small talk, the weather, anything but my personal life. But maybe, with everything going on, I just needed to talk about it — to anyone. Because I sure as hell couldn't talk to Satoru about it.

But she wouldn't understand, would she? She was just a stranger.

She wouldn't understand the sleepless nights, the endless tossing and turning, the hollow ache in my chest that wouldn't go away.

"Hmm," she murmured, her grip on my hand tightening slightly. "Was it a woman?"

"Huh?" I looked at her, or at least the part of her face that wasn't hidden by the MRI machine.

"The reason you parted, I mean?"

"No. It wasn't a woman."

The silence hung in the air as the MRI hummed and clicked. She didn't say anything.

I took a deep breath. "It was a woman. But not in the way you think."

"It's never what it seems, is it?"

I hesitated, not sure how much to share. But something in her voice, a softness, made me want to go on. "They share a bond... a deep one. I've never seen anything like that. It's like they're the very air the other breathes."

Her grip on my hand tightened, as if she understood the depth of my pain, even without knowing the full story. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's alright," I said, trying to shrug it off, but the pain was still raw. "I knew from the start that they were made for each other."

The truth sliced through me, sharp and cold.

They were too similar, both bordering on insanity to be fair, but similar. Yet, they were so stubborn, so unwilling to admit their need for each other, that they'd rather tear each other down.

It was a damn tragedy.

Even more of a tragedy to get caught up in their destruction, to have these stupid feelings I'd rather not have.

I stayed silent, unsure if I wanted to say anything more. It hurt too much to talk about it, the wound still too fresh. But then, her voice cut through the silence again.

"The law firm is hell."

"Huh?" I was pulled back to the present. "What do you mean?"

"The corporate types are all so stiff and judgmental," she complained. "And the other law students... so ambitious, always trying to one-up each other. I hate it."

My lips twitched into a light smile. "Yeah, law students were always ambitious, even back in my day."

"They are. Everyone's so focused on being the best, even if it means stepping on others. I'm not sure I have that kind of ambition."

"But you got an internship at one of the top law firms in the city," I pointed out. "That must mean you're pretty ambitious yourself."

There was a pause, then she almost whispered, "Yeah, but at what cost..."

Hm?

I barely caught her words, but before I could ask her to repeat herself, a sudden beep from the MRI machine cut through the air. The machine whirred to a stop, the sudden silence almost unsettling. The scan was complete.

The table slowly slid out, bringing her back into full view. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light. "That's it?" she asked, sounding surprised. "It's over?"

"All done, Attorney," I said with a reassuring smile. "You did great."

As she started to sit up, I realized I was still holding her hand. She glanced down at our intertwined fingers. "You can let go now, Dr. Geto."

I blinked, snapping back to reality. I quickly released her hand. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "I tend to have that effect on men."

"Again, for someone who's afraid of MRIs, you've got a pretty big mouth."

"Again, I'm not afraid of them. I just don't like them."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, helping her off the table. My hand brushed against hers again. "Now let's take a look at those scans."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

As the images flickered onto the screen, my focus sharpened, my eyes scanning the intricate patterns of her brain. The room was quiet, broken only by the soft hum of the computer and the rhythmic beeping of the nearby monitors.

"Everything looks good, Attorney," I said. "No signs of any abnormalities or lesions."

She leaned forward, her eyes wide with interest as she studied the images. "So, I'm all clear?"

"As far as I can tell. Your epilepsy seems to be well-controlled with your current medication."

"Thanks, Dr. Geto, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," I replied, grabbing the form from my desk. "Now, about that signature..." I quickly filled it out, my pen scratching across the paper. With a final flourish, I signed my name at the bottom.

"Here you go," I said, handing it over. "All set."

She took it, her eyes scanning the document quickly. "Thank you. You've been a lifesaver."

"Just doing my job." I waved away her thanks. "Now, go out there and conquer the legal world."

She looked up from the paper and met my gaze with a boldness that caught me off guard. "Would you like to go out for drinks this weekend?"

I blinked, my mind scrambling to process her words. "I... what?" I stammered, completely taken aback. "Are you—asking me out?"

"No, no, that's not it at all!" She quickly waved her hands in front of her face. "I mean, not like a date or anything. I could really use a friend, someone to show me around and... you know, just hang out with."

I stared at her, amused and bewildered at the same time. "Attorney, I'm at least ten years older than you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ha? How old are you?"

"How old are you?"

"Didn't you read my medical history, doctor?"

Right. Now I remembered. Twenty-six. Yeah, ten years older. I leaned against the desk, not quite sure what to make of her proposition.

"I'm your doctor," I said, reminding her of the obvious.

"Technically, I'm Dr. Gojo's patient."

"Even so, you realize how this could be perceived, right?" 

"It's not like I'm asking for your kidney. Just a few drinks." She shrugged, unfazed. "Besides, you seem like a nice guy."

"That's all it takes for you?"

"Come on, don't make it so hard for me," she said, pouting playfully.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to show you around town. I'm a bit of a workaholic. Socializing isn't exactly my forte."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious gaze. "So you're saying you don't have any friends?" she asked, a playful challenge in her voice. "Are you a loner, Dr. Geto?"

I hesitated, thrown off by her directness. "Do you always speak your mind so bluntly?"

She shrugged. "Only when I'm talking to heartbroken doctors who seem a little lonely."

I couldn't help but be intrigued by her persistence.

She was unlike any patient I'd ever met — bold, witty, and surprisingly insightful. And despite the age difference, there was some sort of strange understanding between us. I couldn't quite tell if she was doing this for herself or for me, but I found myself wanting to find out.

"Alright, Attorney," I said. "You win. I'll show you around town. But don't expect any wild nights out. I'm more of a quiet bar and good conversation kind of guy."

Her face lit up with a genuine smile. "Sounds perfect. Just promise me you won't try to diagnose me with anything while we're out."

"Why, is there more to diagnose?"

"Nothing major," she said with a chuckle. "Just the usual existential angst, quarter-life crisis, questioning my entire career path kind of stuff."

"Don't worry. I won't diagnose anything outside this hospital."

"Great." She grinned, extending her hand. "Then it's a deal."

As our hands clasped together, I returned her smile. "Deal."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

Satoru's call woke me up, telling me to get my ass to the lab. It was my day off, damn it, but when he mentioned she wanted to meet us. I dragged myself out of bed.

By the time I got to our old lab — now ours again, apparently — Satoru was already mapping out the entire research study on the whiteboard. He must have been there for hours.

Good thing I'd brought two coffees. I knew this was coming.

Hours passed in a blur of caffeine and whiteboard markers. Satoru and I argued over every damn strategy, our approaches clashing like always. He wanted to go one way, I wanted to go another. Every idea we had was met with immediate criticism and erased within minutes.

New idea, erase, repeat.

But we kept going, trying to find a plan that would work, not just for us, but for her. We both wanted to take some of the burden off her shoulders.

Then the lab door opened. I turned, surprised to see anyone before the afternoon. My heart stuttered in my chest.

It was her.

She walked over to us, her expression unreadable. It was the first time I'd seen her since Yaga's office, since I'd almost let those three damning words slip past my guard. Since I'd seen the confusion in her eyes when she realized what I was about to confess.

God, what had I been thinking?

That she'd what, return my feelings?

Foolish.

"What are you doing here?" Satoru asked. "Don't you have a lecture right now?"

"Yuta's covering for me. It's fine."

"That's not how this research will work. You won't jeopardize your studies for this," Satoru said, his voice firm.

"Last time I checked, this was my research. Remember?" she retorted, her tone just as sharp.

Satoru merely huffed. She shifted under his gaze, looking uncomfortable. And tired. No, tired was an understatement. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin pale. I hated seeing her like this.

"You look exhausted," I observed quietly. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm fine," she said, but it was a blatant lie.

I glanced at Satoru, who was already looking at me with a frown. He thought the same thing I did.

"Look, I have an idea," she said suddenly, walking over to the whiteboard and snatching the marker from my hand. Before I could react, she erased our notes with a few harsh strokes.

Ouch.

"My original approach was too theoretical—too cautious," she began, drawing on the whiteboard. "I wanted to use CAR-T therapy to treat brain tumors like blood diseases, but that's not enough. What if we combine CAR-T with targeted antibodies?"

I took a seat next to Satoru, my eyes following hers as she scribbled diagrams and equations on the board. I took a sip of my coffee, already cold. "Antibodies... what kind?"

"T-cell engagers," she said without missing a beat. "We can engineer them to bridge the gap between the CAR-T cells and the tumor."

"That's never been tested before," Satoru chimed in.

"That's why we'll be the first," she retorted. “We'll modify the CAR-T cells to specifically target the glioblastoma's antigen fingerprint. But we need to combine them with T-cell engagers, designed to simultaneously bind the EGFR protein. This way, we can maximize tumor cell destruction."

It was hard to keep up. Her words were spilling out a mile a minute, as if she was afraid they otherwise might slip her mind, the drawings on the board barely legible.

Then, she spun around. "And we'll inject them directly into the brain."

Silence.

Satoru and I stared at her, trying to process what she'd just laid out. Even as seasoned neurosurgeons, we were struggling to keep up. This was on a whole other level than anything we'd considered.

We were looking for something that would work and be safe.

She just wanted to find a way to make it work, damn the risks it seemed. The lack of sleep was clearly messing with her head, but in a twisted way, it made sense. Still, we couldn't actually go through with this, could we?

Her gaze flitted between us, waiting for a response.

God, I need a cigarette.

"That's," I paused, searching for the right word, "—bold."

"More like insane," Satoru countered. "When was the last time you actually slept?"

"Ha? Tell me this doesn't make sense."

I leaned back, drumming my fingers on the armrest as I thought it over. "It does. Theoretically, it could work."

"Combining CAR-T with antibodies? Direct brain injection? We don't have preclinical data, not even hypothetical models to support something this radical," Satoru countered.

"So?" she challenged. "Isn't that what groundbreaking research is about? Taking risks, pushing boundaries?" She gestured to the whiteboard. "This—this is worth the risk."

I stood up and started pacing, rubbing my chin as I thought it through. I walked back over to the board, took the marker from her hand, and started scribbling.

"She's right,"  I said, my mind racing.  "Direct injection cuts through the blood-brain barrier issue. And targeted antibodies... that opens up possibilities we haven't even considered."

But there were still so many obstacles. "The potential for cytokine release syndrome—" I mused aloud. "If the T-cells overreact, we could trigger an inflammatory response."

She leaned closer, her eyes focused on the board. "We can manage that. Steroids, anti-IL-6... strict monitoring protocols."

Hmm, maybe. But there was still more to consider. I kept writing. "And what about the target itself? EGFRvIII is notoriously heterogeneous. We need robust evidence that our antibodies won't miss their mark—"

"Is it just me, or am I the only sane person in this room right now?" Satoru interrupted, his arms crossed as he glared at us from his chair. "We're not talking about hypothetical models here. We're talking about messing with someone's brain. Someone's life."

"I'm well aware of the risks, Satoru," she shot back.

"Aware and reckless aren't the same thing," he retorted.

"Coming from you, that's rich."

God, I need two cigarettes now.

"Look, you've barely slept for a week, and now you're proposing—what, supercharged T-cells?" He gestured towards our chaotic notes on the whiteboard. "Have you both lost your goddamn minds?" His gaze flickered between the two of us.

I was surprised he was so hesitant. Satoru was usually the first to jump into the deep end. Somehow, I had the feeling he changed. He wasn't as risky as I used to know him. Must be her influence.

She took a step forward, her eyes locked on Satoru's. "This could work, Satoru. Or are you too much of a coward to even try?"

"Ha?"

She leaned in, her hands gripping the arms of his chair. "Tell me, do these supercharged T-cells unnerve you? Make you uncomfortable with yourself?"

I had to look away. The sight of them so close together made my stomach churn. I didn't want to see whatever was about to happen. She whispered something I couldn't make out, but the intensity in her eyes was clear. A wave of irritation, of jealousy, washed over me.

My phone buzzed, a welcome distraction. I pulled it out, annoyance flaring when I saw the caller ID.

"Damn it." I answered the call. "Shoko, what is it?"

"Hey Suguru, look, we have an emergency here and the other neurologist is out sick. We need someone to jump in, can you come?"

I rubbed my temple. "Alright, I'm on my way."

I turned back to them, already gathering my things. "We'll pick this up later. There's a situation at the hospital." I looked at her, concern replacing my irritation. "Get some rest. You look like hell."

The words were out before I could stop them, harsher than I intended. But I was already halfway out the door.

Later, as I was scrubbing into surgery, my own words echoed in my mind.

And I felt awful.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

Sharp autumn air stung my lungs with each greedy drag on my cigarette.

Across the table, Satoru's fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the worn table that set my teeth on edge. I had to resist the urge to reach over and grab his wrist to make him stop. His eyes were glued to his phone. Overhead, the sky was a bruise-colored canvas, the sun barely visible.

Forgotten coffee grew cold between us.

I took another long drag from my cigarette. Satoru shifted opposite of me, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. He hadn't looked away from his phone in minutes, his fingers twitching as if itching to type a message.

We sat like this for a while at the campus outdoor cafeteria. Students hurried past. Neither of us said a word.

"Sorry for ditching you with my patient the other day," he finally said. "How'd it go?"

I exhaled a plume of smoke and watched it vanish into the leaden sky. "Everything's fine. Medication's good, MRI was clean."

"That's good news," he said, already back to his phone, unlocking and locking it in a nervous tic. "Knew you'd take care of her." He glanced up with a smirk. "So she actually went through with the MRI? How'd that go?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Let's not talk about it." I stubbed out my cigarette butt in the grimy ashtray and immediately lit another. "Didn't know you were so soft with your patients."

"I'm not a monster, you know." He shrugged, gaze dropping back to his phone. "I do what's best for them, even if it means bending the rules a bit." He paused, a smirk once again forming on his lips. "She's pretty straightforward, huh?"

"Did you sleep with her?" I asked bluntly.

Satoru's head snapped up, eyebrows raised. "What, you think I'm screwing every student that walks through my door?"

"You seem familiar."

"She's nice. I was nice in return. That's all." His attention was already drifting back to the bright screen. "Besides, she works with Higurama. He asked me to keep an eye on her."

I exhaled slowly, the smoke a grey ghost against the darkening sky.

"She's doing okay, by the way," he offered without looking up.

My blood ran cold. 

I knew who he was talking about. We both did.

Satoru's gaze met mine, his smirk gone. "I know you want to ask."

Silence fell. I wondered if he could sense the fever-pitch of my pulse, if he knew about my feelings for her. Because the way he looked at me now, I had a sinking feeling he did. My fingers tightened around my coffee cup.

"It's not easy for her," I said, trying to sound indifferent.

"Yeah." Satoru's expression hardened. "I should kill Yaga over this whole mess."

"Still, her plan might actually work. It's a good one."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" His leg started its anxious bouncing again under the table. "She's pushing herself too damn hard."

He paused, then blurted, "We should leave this university."

"Like we talked about before you backed out?"

"You know why." He unlocked his phone again, only to lock it a second later with a sigh. "I can't leave her alone with these maniacs."

"The whole staying away from her thing isn't really working out, huh?"

"Of course not," Satoru scoffed with a weary sigh. "I should've known better."

I took a sip of the coffee gone cold and bitter minutes ago, watching him over the rim. He raked a hand through his hair, then tugged at the strands, his leg still bouncing under the table. Something was eating at him.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine," he replied curtly.

I watched him for a beat longer. He was clearly anything but fine. But I knew better than to push it. He wouldn't tell me anyway. Satoru always kept that shit bottled up tight.

But there was another issue too, wasn't there?

"How's the medication treating you?" I asked instead. "We should get your liver enzymes checked soon."

"Huh?" He looked up from his phone, clearly surprised by the question — as if he'd forgotten about his failing liver.

Just then, Zenin Maki and her friends strolled past our table. Okkotsu gave us a quick wave as they passed, and I returned a faint smile.

It was strange. She wasn't with them.

Come to think of it, I hadn't seen her around campus at all since we last crossed paths in the lab.

Satoru's gaze followed them as they scanned the outdoor seating area for a table. His eyes widened, then he quickly stood up. "Sorry, Suguru, I have to go," he said hastily, not giving me any explanation. But I should be used to this by now.

It wasn't the first time.

He was already gone, leaving his coffee cold and abandoned in his wake. I took another long drag of my cigarette, stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray, and reached for my phone.

[12:15 PM] Me: So, Saturday at 9pm? Know a good sports bar if you're into that.

[12:16 PM] Attorney: Sounds good, love sports. Send me the address.

next chapter ->

author's note: i'm so thrilled to hear your thoughts on geto's pov! he's really struggling with gojo and s&c reader being the mess that they are and his feelings in all of it, but don't worry, he'll get his happy ending (with you) too hehe <33

i hope it wasn't too confusing though. this is my first time writing a spin-off, so if you haven't read symptoms and causes, it must be quite confusing at times. but the next chapters will focus less on the s&c reader and more on geto and the r&r reader of course. but i love how i can provide background info for s&c through this story and vice versa :)) & lastly, thank you so much for reading !! your support truly means the world. hope u all have a great day !! <3

pls comment on the masterlist for the taglist. or consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters.

🏷️ @nanamis-baker @whereflowerswenttodie @certainlysyko @ri-sa20 @biancaness

@roseified @rixo-19 @madaqueue @starmapz @alwaysfreakingout

@gojoluvs @totallytatum @shervinss

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[redheadspark]

May I have Azriel from ACOTAR with #10?

A/N - AWWW Adoranle for Azriel! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Warm

Summary - Azriel wants to keep warm on his day off

Warnings - Just fluff :)

You felt it again your toes at first: his own toes being cold.

It made you shiver and shake a bit in the embrace you were in, though the rest of the body was pressed up behind you with muscular arms around your waist and front and knees against your own.  It was a safe and comfortable position, something you and your mate have down with one another for centuries.  Both of a sense of protection, given that your mate’s back was to the door at all times in case of a bush or attack.  But mainly because he liked holding you, a sense of peace was for him when he had you in his arms.

It dated back to before you were mates, out on a spy recon mission together and needing to huddle together for warmth one winter night during a massive storm.  Tucked in your small makeshift tent, he held you close to keep you warm and safe, before you both found yourself falling for one another throughout the night.  He leaned down to kiss you, trusting his instincts and his gut more than his intellect that was telling him that it was a bad idea to kiss his partner. 

But that kiss led to a courtship, then being mates, and now being married for over 300 years.

“Mmmph,” You heard behind yourself against your neck as you blinked slowly and looked out at the massive windows in front of you, massive snowflakes falling from the sky and hitting the cobbled streets in front of the Townhouse.  A fire appeared in the massive fireplace of the bedroom, warmth instantly filling the room along with an orange tint and glow along the four-post bed you and your mate were snuggled in.

The first signs of winter came through Velaris, with the howling winds from the mountains bringing in the first snowfalls and bringing the holiday cheer that would be Winter Solstice.  Shops were open for longer hours, plenty of businesses were conducting sales and bundling items for the holiday to come, and an all-around sense of joy was within the busy town.  You could barely hear some of the citizens already out and about, the sun was not evident since it was hidden behind the gray clouds that were dumping the snow onto Velaris.

“Go back to sleep,” You felt in a whisper against your neck, you humming as you reached down to lace your fingers together against your bare stomach.  

“I will once you warm up your toes,” You replied groggily, the body behind you shifting a bit as you felt his foot push out from under the covers, pointing in the same direction of the roaring fireplace.  

“There, happy?” He asked in a huff, his lips moving along your skin as you chuckled and shifted.  Turning to face the other side, you finally saw the face of your mate: Azriel.  Sleepiness was in his eyes, his bare chest was now pressed in front of yours that had some small scars that were now silver lines along his skin, and his inky black hair which was short and mostly well-kept was tossed against the dark green pillow, and his bright hazel orbs of eyes shined from the dancing light of the fireplace.  No matter how many years you two were married and mates, you still got lost in his eyes and fell in love all over again.

“It’s the first day of our vacation, of course, I’m happy,” You remind him, seeing him sleepily smile back at you as you lean over to peck him on the cheek.  Both you and Azriel were looking for some time together, the past several months were busy with recon missions and visits to other Courts.  Not that you two hated your jobs: you both loved it.  Serving Night Court and helping Rhysand and the others keep Night Court safe.  

You would defend Night Court with all your life, even on the brink of exhaustion and worn muscles.  But for the next few weeks, with peace amongst the other Courts thanks to new treaties and alliances, there was no need for you and Azriel to go out and be busy.  Rhysand made sure of that, giving you both at least two weeks to yourselves just in time for Winter Solstice.  

“What should we do for our first official day of vacation?” You asked him in a tease against his cheek, about to pull away from him before he gently grabbed your chin within his fingers to keep you close.  You stared lovingly at him, breathing in the scent he had and carried ever since you two became mates.  Tree pine, orange slices, and something that reminded you of a storm or a Custer of clouds. 

“Stay in this bed, all day long, so you can warm up my toes with your warm feet,” he murmured, tracing your nose with his.  Seeing him plaint like this, no Truth Teller strapped on his leg, no wearing his leathers, simply open and vulnerable for only his mate to enjoy made you proud of him.  He came so far in his life, from his rough childhood and pain to how having a mate at his side and no fears that would haunt him.

It was not easy being his mate and wife, you knew that from the moment you kissed him and became his mate.  You knew the long nights he would be away on a solo recon mission, or even when you two would work together.  Both of you being spies for Night Court, sometimes that meant your emotions would be on the back burner.  You both had fights and spats because of close calls and injuries, but you’d never go to bed mad at one another.  It was a promise you two made when it got together: you were still mates through and through. 

But it would be such a sight for others to see Azriel, bare under the sheets with his mate without a worry.  Especially Cassian, who would make fun of him for days.

“What if we get hungry?” You asked in a teasing tone. Azriel nearly rolled his eyes as you laughed and he peppered you with kisses.  He was about to pull you in within his awaiting arms but you shoved him away, hearing him groan in protest as you slipped out of bed.  Although you were bare, with your hair cascading down your back, you looked behind your shoulder and saw Azriel sprawled out on the bed and watching you with love and intrigue in his orbs.

“Join me in the shower before we have breakfast in bed then, hm?” You asked, walking off before he could even protest.  You never heard him move out of bed fast enough as you laughed and he bombarded you in the bathroom.

These two weeks will be memorable.

The End

[northopalshore]

Are you familiar with Ascendant Persona Charts?

♀ Ascendant persona charts are very interesting. It's like an extended version of your personality, in the eyes of the people around you. But also, you can sort of see the signs features manifest onto your appearance. I think it's really fun to look at lmao.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

Though I've noticed that in some charts, they tend to manifest later in life. Like after said person gains some sort of consciousness or after a particular phase. In all reality however, it's exactly what you'd expect it to be. The extended version of your single, the one that comes before the album lmao.

╔════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════════╗

In my asc pc, I'm a Taurus rising (°8 Scorpio). Destinn (°28 cancer) & Briede (°29 leo) are also here. It probably means I'll be perceived as a wifey somewhere down the line. Though I sure as hell ain't just my FS's wife. You'll see what I mean lmao. I'm a diva in my own right.

╚════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════════╝

I love going into persona charts since there's always this added layer of depth into your identity. You're a multilayered cake! I'm not calling you an onion even if it's tempting. I ain't Shrek. 🎂

Should I do an analysis on my ascendant persona chart as a guide? If you look at my asc pc, then the existence of my blog & my interest aren't a surprise lmao especially with that 11th house stellium & venus, groom in the 10th house. I'll add other examples as well.

Michael Jackson:

Is an Aquarius rising (°3 Gemini) in his asc persona chart. He has both Chiron (°23 aquarius ) & Briede (°28 cancer) in Aquarius here, as well as Sun (°10 Capricorn ), Boda (°2 Taurus) & Europa (°0) in Pisces.

He's literally a star lmao. A woman's man, if you will. Women tend to trust him instinctively, he himself has always been more of a lover. The spirit of a lover that is.

Although, this would also explain his erratic behaviour at times. Having to battle his emotions at the same time trying to gain control of any public situation he was ever in. It's not media training, it's media manipulation. He grew up in front of the camera so his public persona is his second skin.

In his natal chart, his ascendant is Pisces (°10 Capricorn) with Moon (°14 Taurus) , Mireille & Lilith (°21 Sagittarius).

He's been bullied and shamed for his appearance, people always had something to say when it comes to how he should and shouldn't act or look like. He's also been openly insecure about how he looks because of his sickness & vitiligo.

However, no one can deny that his looks will forever be framed as an iconic part of pop culture history. Hell, in all of modern history. The King of Pop is never seen without an outfit that would outshine all who stand next to him.

It also mirrors his facial structures. I've heard that a badly aspected Mercury or 7th house ruler could be related to vitiligo in vedic astrology, but I'm not exactly sure. I'm not well versed in medical astrology either, but I wonder if aquarius might have some sort of effect as well since he has a LOT of aquarius here.

He's one fine mf tho. Even after all this time, he's still adored by many fans, old & new.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

Hope this was interesting! Did I somehow make it about MJ again? Yes. Yes I did.

[star-girl69]

clarisse is definitely i hate everyone but you trope SHES VERY “10 things i hate about you” PATRICK CODED

OMG I FORGOT ABOUT THIS TROPE. no bc it is SO clarisse it’s insane and i must elaborate

while she’s not necessarily a bully she’s just insecure and her first instinct is violence!

she is just kind of an asshole tho

she standoffish and her reputation at camp is not very positive!

people are just really shocked and all your siblings are SO concerned that she’s like going to punch you in the face or smth???? it’s really funny tbh

clarisse is just SO hard and tough and that’s just her persona and who she is

but you just bring out a side of her that no one else gets to see

well they get to see it from afar

you’ll be like standing next to her table at lunch trying to talk to her about something and she’s like

“hold on pretty girl hold that pretty thought can someone fucking move so she can sit down?? jesus christ.”

or sometimes she’ll just push one of her siblings food away and tell you to sit right on the table

mumbling “sorry sorry” to all of her siblings but they’re used to it

her love language is touch and acts of service so she’s always touching you, any part of your body, always kissing you, and it’s just so SHOCKING

like just pure whiplash she’ll call one of her friends a dumbass for tripping but if you were to trip over something she would catch you and be like “you gotta be more careful, dummy” and smile at you

one of her siblings would jokingly point out how unfair it was and she was just like deadpan

“yeah? she’s the most amazing woman at camp. what are you? you’re not beautiful like her. you’re not smart like her. you’re just….. you…. which is not a good thing”

she’s always just doing things for you

like if you ask her to grab something for you trust it’s getting grabbed

but also like ares kids notice EVERYTHING

you won’t even realize you’re cold or hungry or something and all of a sudden she’s placing a jacket over you or shoving food into your mouth

she loves to feed you but not in a weird way

she just likes to provide for you???? do i make sense???? she just wants you and everyone to see that she’s capable and strong and confident and she can take care of you AND herself

and you’re obviously always so nice to her

like borderline sitting in her lap, touching her muscles, talking about how pretty she is

everyone is like “have you met clarisse before??”

y’all know you on my arm by leith ross? she wants to buy you pretty little things and never ever lie to you

she just gets so BORED with everyone else

like she’s a little bit better to her siblings but still

they’ll be talking sometimes and she’s like oh my god shut up

then you come around and start rambling to her and she does get bored too she’s not perfect but she just zones out and listens to your voice

or sometimes if she’s really bored she kisses you so you’ll shut up

and it’s really weird bc like she’s kissing you and SHES KISSING YOU so you’re like omg and then she’s just mumbling “sorry sorry sorry” against your lips like bae what are you even talking about that???? that was before the kiss who cares

also she has to kiss you before EVERY capture the flag game before EVERY spar or match or else she’s convinced she’ll lose

after capture the flag games that she wins she’s like sitting somewhere recounting the events with her siblings with you in her lap

she’s just obsessed with you really

[pinkusmaximus]

Sis! Now I need a full on fic for Logan x Fem!Reader x Wade with the whole pregnancy thing! I love the trio and I can just see Logan’s wheels always turning, trying to pin point the scent difference, why he’s so touchy and clingy. Then when it comes out both men are 10 x more clingy! Dotting on their woman hand and foot, taking care of her when she’s sick or hurting from the added weight and her symptoms. I can see one of them standing behind her and they just put their hands under her belly and they just lift it up some to relieve the pressure on her and she’s just IMMENSELY relieved

Oh, I’m not sure if I’m in a state for a full fic right now (I work and when I’m not working I’m in school) but I can elaborate more for sure!

🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀

You would absolutely be the most spoiled, protected pregananant person in the world. In fact, they’d have to start taking turns with missions, because one of them would need to be at home with you at all times from the moment it’s confirmed by your doctor. Not that you really needed the confirmation, with the way Logan lives with his face pressed into your neck the moment it clicks for him that the lovely warm scent that mixed with your usual sweetness and lingered after you were long gone is due to the little life inside you.

Wade is a lot more hesitant at first. He’s overwhelmed with how happy he feels at the news, and that alone is enough to scare him. Logan’s too caught up in his protective instincts to think logically about the fact that you really are in quite a dangerous situation, but Wade’s all too attuned to the myriad of ways you and the baby could be hurt because of them and the lifestyle they’ve chosen. You’ll never see him so cautious. He comes home with less injuries than ever (though not insignificant, but it’s Wade), not wanting to cause you any undue stress after he reads how bad stress can be on you and the baby (because yes, he’s secretly started hoarding a stash of pregnancy books and magazines from the moment he saw those two blue lines).

And trust me, the moment that you start to show, things will only amp up from there. That’s when reality starts to set in— this is happening. They’re going to be dads.

Now that Logan has an explanation for his odd behaviors from before, it becomes much easier to manage them for the three of you. You and Wade understand his instinctual need to keep you close, so you start to mind it less when he gently tugs you over to him in his lounge chair from the couch, keeping his broad hands over the expanse of your belly and his head on your shoulder where he can keep that comforting aroma in his senses. It also means that it’s easier for him to allow you to relax with Wade, his instincts now accepting Wade as a fellow protector, rather than a threat.

Wade loves laying his head on your stomach for as long as he’s physically able to, your hands lovingly caressing his head as he talks to the baby about anything and everything, for as long as you’ll let him go on— or until he falls asleep, feeling a deep sense of comfort from being so close to you and the baby. Every other sentence is punctuated by enthusiastic kisses to your growing roundness, slowly becoming softer and more tender as his rambling shifts from making up stupid nicknames for the unborn child and telling them all the ridiculous ways he’s going to teach them to get into trouble, to soft murmurs of how good of a parent you’re going to be, how much he already loves them, how he can’t wait to see Logan act like a real daddy, how he can’t wait to be their daddy, too. And once you’re too big for him to lay his head down, he’ll just rest his head on your thighs instead, dotingly rubbing his hands all over stomach, tracing your stretch marks with his fingertips and admiring your physical and mental strength for carrying their child.

When you get to spend time with both of them, it’s usually on the couch or in bed now. You’re exhausted all the time, so lucky you that you’ve got two men who would never let your feet touch the ground if that’s what it took to keep you happy. You’re always laying with your head in someone’s lap, having your hairline lightly brushed by soothing fingertips, your feet and calves massaged by strong hands. You’ve always got someone to run and get you what you’re craving, someone to help you shower when you can’t see your feet anymore, someone to hold you when you’re crying because your hormones are too much and you’re thinking too much about the impending pains of birth. Bonus, that also means you’ve got two hands to crush in your death grip when you need it— and you don’t have to worry about breaking their bones.

A pregnancy with Wade and Logan may be tumultuous in some ways, but in all the ways that count, you couldn’t ask for a more perfect family.