#and if - let go- isn't quite right then it's more do what i can to keep going anyway - then that's what i need to keep trying to do

[bubblegumgothglados]

Aftercare should generally involve the opposite of the things a scene involved, it should balance the "negative" physical and psychological impact of the scene.

This is a fairly neat summation and simplification of a very complex and nuanced topic. But it's a good place to start if you're new and don't quite understand the concept of aftercare or if you're experienced and trying a new type of play. It's a simple framework to build upon as you learn more about your individual needs and the needs of your play partner(s).

So what are the physical and psychological impacts of a scene. (Do note we're specifically talking about those impacts we don't want to last past the end of a scene, puppies don't want to be told they're not puppies as aftercare)

I'm not going to separate these because what effects you psychologically is also going to effect you physically and vice versa. These things are not separate.

A good example on the more psychological side might be degradation which damages a submissive's self worth, self image, ego, etc. To balance this aftercare should focus on affirmation and rebuilding /healing those things. Similarly fear play damages a submissive's sense of safety/ wellbeing, aftercare for which should involve being made to feel safe, comfortable with their dominant, and st ease.

Having said that, a good example of this balance on the more physical side is replacing lost energy. Basically no matter what type if play you're engaging in you will burn a lot of energy, so to balance that you should replace that energy. I write about this in much more detail HERE.

Getting a little more complicated; sub drop. Coming 'down' from a submissive headspace, especially one that includes pain play, can be very unpleasant. The neurotransmitters released during a scene fade away, this feels something like the crash after an adrenaline spike, and can leave a submissive feeling lethargic, empty, sad, etc. To balance this aftercare should involve things the submissive enjoys to bring those neurotransmitter levels back up a little and alleviate some of the withdrawal symptoms. This can include but shouldn't be limited to; cuddles, kisses, warm snugly things like blankets and stuffies, their favourite snacks, their favourite movie or TV show, etc

"Top drop" is less a neurological thing and more of a social thing. Although the top headspace also includes it's own share of neurotransmitters which also drop off it's almost always to a much lesser extent. The most common major effect of top drop is guilt; hurting someone you care about is something deeply ingrained as bad and even if they like it, even if they're begging for it, it can still effect you really deeply. Aftercare for this should involve affirmation that the bottom isn't hurt beyond what they want to be, that they still care about and trust their dom, etc.

This is an infinitely nuanced topic, I could write until the character limit and still not cover all the ways that aftercare could go. But I have to draw a line in the sand somewhere so let me make one final point. Don't worry too much about getting this perfectly right the first few times, you'll figure out what you need and what your play partner(s) need. The most important part is the "care" half of "aftercare" show them you're willing yo put in the effort to make sure they're OK and you can't go to wrong

[ghoulangerlee]

Merry Christmas everyone, please have this unedited dewther heat smut 😁

A few things: aether's in heat but dew isn't in a rut and as such, there isn't knotting in the literal sense, but dew does have funky anatomy that emulates a knot outside of his ruts! (As always he's ribbed for aether's pleasure)

aether can be read as trans here though his genitalia are referred to by masculine terms!

Technical double penetration in one hole for a scene but this is all wholly consensual!

But whew this is 4k, and fought me the entire time I wrote it so please enjoy!

-------

There’s a warmth settled across his hips, burning heat in his belly that feels more outward than anything, calling to him, pulling him out of his deep and restless sleep—groggy, he groans and opens his eyes slowly.

“Hey there Starshine,” Dew murmurs with a private little smile, reaching out to cup his warm hand against Aether’s cheek. “What a sight for sore eyes you are,” he continues, knees digging into the bed as he shifts forward, bowing over so he can press a soft kiss to Aether’s lips.

Aether signs into it, gives into the weight of Dew sitting over him, the line of heat he can feel even through the t-shirt he’s wearing.

There is still the low simmer of his own heat, burning just under the surface of his skin, but he ignores it in favor of wrapping his arms around the fire ghoul on top of him, rolling them over into his nest until Dew’s under him and he can press his face into the hollow of his throat, inhaling deeply.

Dew’s scent is there but barely recognizable, covered by the thick and sterile scent of travel and other people and Aether doesn’t realize that he’s growling until Dew’s shushing him.

“Promised I’d wake you with a kiss, didn’t I?” he asks, fingers sinking into Aether’s hair to tug at the strands, using his grip to draw Aether’s attention back to him and not his scent, “The shower would have woken you up and you’d be all pouty about it because you didn’t get a kiss first,” he murmurs, and his tone is only a little condescending, but mostly fond, a teasing sort of glint in his eyes as he speaks to him.

Aether narrows his eyes at him, torn between wanting to bare his teeth at Dew and wanting to admit he’s right, of course he is. He’s always right about Aether’s little quirks, even if he’s a bit mean sometimes.

Instead, he huffs and rolls off of Dew and onto his back—he doesn’t really feel much like talking and Dew seems to get that if the huff of laughter he lets out is anything to go by.

“You’re so cute,” Dew says, seriously and full of love as he sits up and works open the buttons on his shirt, “I’m going to shower and then we’ll see about getting some food in you,” he turns on the bed and leans over, pressing a sweet kiss to Aether’s cheek, “You doing okay right now, though, right big guy?” he murmurs the words against his skin, watching Aether’s eyes flutter closed.

He hums softly, turning his head enough to brush his lips over the corner of Dew’s mouth, he doesn’t speak, but a low sort of purr rumbles in his chest as he pulls away from the kiss and instead nuzzles at Dew’s jaw.

“Like a big ol kitty cat,” Dew mumbles with a little laugh, petting through Aether’s hair for a moment, “I’ll be back,” he promises, finally putting some space between them, watching as Aether settles back into the nest, head lolling back against the pillow with a pleased sort of smile on his face.

He stands from the bed and strips out of his shirt, losing his pants on the way to the bathroom, knowing he’s on borrowed time now, the clock ticking before Aether’s heat settles in for good.

At some point, he returns, though Aether’s not quite sure when or how long he’d spent in the shower, focusing instead, on the warmth of Dew climbing into the nest, shuffling Aether into his arms and pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Rain’s going to bring some food by,” Dew murmurs, pressing a warm palm against his back, “Should be here in about an hour, should have time to nap if you’re tired, big guy.”

Aether hums softly and nuzzles his way up to the hinge of Dew’s jaw, inhales the scent of heat and something entirely too enticing, too Dew for him to ignore—he exhales loudly and drags his tongue over Dew’s skin, shuddering in his arms as the scent of his mate settles something inside him.

Dew tilts his head back against the pillow, eyes fluttering closed as he sinks his fingers into Aether’s hair, petting at his scalp, “You’ve been working too hard, baby,” he murmurs after a few moments, his voice gentle and concerned, “Me and Copia leaving you behind really pulled you into an early heat, didn’t it?” he asks, rhetorical, the hand in his hair slipping down to cup the back of Aether’s neck and squeeze.

Aether groans, melts more into Dew’s arms, snuffling at his throat, and, if he thinks about it, pushes aside Dew’s scent and the heat in his belly, then yeah, all of this started shortly after Copia and Dew had left, after Dew had kissed him and bedded him down for the last time for a while—it hadn’t been anything different from their usual couplings, but Aether remembers feeling despondent when Dew had kissed him one last time, a smile on his lips as he murmured his love into Aether’s mouth and Aether had clung to him just a little bit tighter than normal.

“Cu could smell it,” Dew continues to speak, squeezing the back of his neck again and leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “Could smell that you were spiraling; it’s so hard for you to be away from your mate when you’re going into your heat, right?” he asks, there’s a kindness there that Aether grabs at, and he makes a noise, in agreement he thinks, and Dew laughs a little, fond and happy, “Poor thing,” he coos, nuzzling his temple, “I didn’t think—” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you were going into heat, baby, otherwise I’d stayed with you, brought you here the right way,” he slides his palm up Aether’s back, slow and gentle, “Instead of letting you get yourself worked up like this.”

Aether shakes his head, lifts his head so he can kiss Dew instead, hopes that the but you’re here now comes across even without him actually saying it and when they break apart, Dew’s smiling up at him.

“Okay, okay,” he says softly, scratching his nails against Aether’s scalp again—something Aether loves only when he’s in heat but loathes most times when he’s not, letting Aether tuck his head into his throat again, “Think you can rest for me, big guy? Nap a bit while we wait for food?”

And well, Aether does feel tired, among other things, the low simmer of heat beneath his skin, the empty feeling in his stomach—beyond all of that, there is a tiredness in his bones, one that has his eyes feeling heavy, he snuffles against Dew’s skin, settles all of his weight in a way that would surely squish anyone else, but Dew revels in.

“That’s it, big guy,” Dew mumbles, slides his other hand under Aether’s shirt, palm settling warm against his lower back, “I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat,” he promises, draws a little heart into cool skin with a warm fingertip, smiling when Aether snuffles again, goes still, resting.

Dew sighs quietly, tipping his head back against the pillow and allowing his own eyes to flutter closed, surrounded by the scent of his mate and their nest.

-

Aether wakes first—to the scent of food and to the fading scent of wetness, pack and a voice in the back of his mind whispering predatorpredatorpredator, when he cracks his eyes open and lifts his head, there’s no one else in the room, but the scent of something makes him whine a little, press his face into Dew’s throat again to block it all out.

Dew’s hands, which had stopped moving sometime when he’d fallen asleep, jolt as Aether moves, nails dig briefly into the sensitive skin of his lower back, drawing a hiss from him before Dew’s moving, shifting under him and grumbling a bit at being woken up.

“Everything alright, big guy?” Dew mumbles, voice low and laced with tiredness as he pats at Aether’s skin, soothing over the ache and it takes him a minute, to wake up, to wheeze out a breath as Aether settles all of his weight on him, as if trying to settle inside him.

“Someone was here,” Aether manages, the words a little rough from disuse, his voice cracking at the end—he doesn’t sound weak, no, but there’s something vulnerable there that he can’t hide. “I know it was probably just Rain, but—” he stops speaking then, feeling somewhat like a fool for thinking ill of his own packmate.

Dew’s hand slips from under his shirt so he can cup the sides of his head instead, drawing him up and out of his throat so he can stare into Aether’s eyes—they're a little droopy, somewhat sad, tired—the weight of a once in a lifetime heat settling heavily in his demeanor. “Hey, Aeth,” he murmurs, gentle and careful, “It’s okay, I should have told Rain to leave the food at the door,” he tips Aether’s head to the side, leans up as much as he can so he can scent the quintessence ghoul, rubbing a cheek against the underside of his jaw. “S’okay, he didn’t come in the nest, he would never,” he promises softly, tips his head and presses a sweet kiss to his skin.

Aether exhales loudly and after a moment, settles down against Dew again, tension seeping from his body as he lets Dew tip his head to the side so he can mouth along his jaw, “Sorry you gotta deal with this whenever my heat comes around,” he mumbles, feeling only a little bit sorry about the way his emotions seem to spark in a way that makes something dark twist in his belly.

Dew smiles against his skin, sinks both his hands in Aether’s fluffy hair before drawing him into a proper kiss, “None of that,” he murmurs fondly, “I love how you are when you’re in heat, baby.” he kisses him again, longer and slower this time, until he feels Aether pawing at his sides, “So sweet for me, aren’t you darling?”

He hums something, low and infernal, tongue too heavy in his mouth to form proper words as he tries to chase Dew’s mouth, the thought of Rain’s scent in the room fading to the back of his mind, pinpoint focus solely on his mate under him now.

“Sweet thing,” Dew coos, kissing Aether on the mouth again, “I want to feed you now, alright? Something easy—” he pauses, glances over at the tray left by the bed, “Looks like there’s some fruit, do you think you could eat that for me?” he asks, cupping the side of Aether’s face, nudging their noses together.

Aether makes a noise, something half agreement, he could eat—there's an emptiness in his stomach that isn’t from his heat, and he tries to think back to when he last ate something substantial, scattered thoughts coming up with nothing after several long moments.

He’s rewarded with another kiss, chaste and sweet against his mouth, the taste of Dew clinging to his lips even as the fire ghoul pulls away from him.

“I’ll need to get the food, darling,” Dew murmurs, slipping an arm around Aether and rolling them onto their sides until Aether’s sprawled in the nest, half under him. “Stay right there,” he says, nudges Aether’s wandering hands away before he slips off of him, most likely to grab the tray.

Of course, Aether knows this, but that doesn’t stop the disgruntled sound that leaves his mouth, arms flopping uselessly to the bed—he may crave to keep Dew close when the heat itches at his skin, but listening to Dew and staying where he’s told to tend to overpower that need, the want to be good for his mate making him lay moodily in the bed while Dew slips out of it to grab food.

“I can feel your ire from here, babe,” Dew says with a little laugh, fond and full of love, “I’m just grabbing some fruit,” he turns away from the bed and that’s when Aether notices that he’s naked still.

Dew’s pale on the best of days, something left over from being born into the world a water ghoul, but he’s got some color to his skin now in his half-shifted state—lines of scales clustered in his lower back and along the length of his shoulders that should have scabbed over once the transformation had completed instead shifted with his temperament, now an iridescent burgundy color that seemed to sparkle in the low light of Aether’s bedroom.

His shoulders not broad, but wide and comforting, telling of the hidden strength beneath his skin, muscle coiled tightly, rippling with his movement as he reaches out to grab a few of the bowls from the tray.

Something happy settles deep in Aether’s belly at the sight of his mate, of the subtle power beneath his skin, his firm touch, the way he knows exactly what Aether needs before he even has to say it.

When Dew turns back around, his eyebrow is raised—there's another cluster of scales above his left eye, fading up into his temple and hairline and Aether’s gaze is drawn there for a moment—not that it matters, because Dew knows him, could probably guess what he was thinking about just now.

It brings a flush of color to his cheeks and as much as he wants to bring his hands in and cover his face, he doesn’t because there’s nothing more satisfying that having Dew’s dark gaze on him, taking in his body—the way his shirt’s rucked itself half up his chest and his underwear sit now just below the heft of his stomach, it’d taken him a bit to get used to it, get used to the honest gaze from the fire ghoul, the way it made him feel desired in every single way possible.

“Good boy,” Dew says, voice a little rough as he steps back closer to the bed, cradling two bowls against his chest, but Aether’s gaze is drawn downwards, where his cock is starting to chub up now. “Hey,” the fire ghoul says, a bit sharp, drawing Aether’s gaze back up to his face immediately, “None of that yet, food first.”

There’s a voice in the back of his mind, dark and demanding that whispers you are my food, the words wanting to slip out, but he bites his tongue and nods, shifts his weight back up against the pillows he’d been left on.

He rolls over onto his belly, buries his face into the pillow to breathe in Dew’s scent—somewhere behind him he hears the fire ghoul laugh and the bed dip as he climbs back up onto it.

“C’mon big guy,” Dew says, resting a warm hand on the small of Aether’s back, “Let me see your pretty face, feed you some fruit, yeah?”

Aether huffs and rolls onto his side, shifting until he can rest his cheek on Dew’s bare thigh, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of warm skin against his own slightly cooler skin, a pleased noise leaving his mouth when he curls a hand around Dew’s ankle.

Dew smiles down at him and places the bowls down by his thigh, “There you are,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Aether’s hair, scratching his nails gently against his scalp, “Just like a big cat,” he coos, feeling Aether lean into the touch, “Are you going to be a good boy and eat for me now?”

It’s an innocent question but oh, it makes the heat stir in Aether’s belly, makes him press his legs together tightly, eyes fluttering back open to stare up at Dew. He licks his lips and nods, turns his head to press a barely there kiss against his bare thigh before he tips his chin up and opens his mouth, tongue lolling out, patient and waiting.

Dew’s fingers clench in Aether’s hair, just for a moment, before he composes himself again, his cock chubbing up more where it’s resting against his inner thigh, “Good boy,” he says, voice a little rough as he gently places a cut strawberry on Aether’s tongue.

He makes eye contact with Dew as he pulls it into his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing it—when he opens his mouth again, his tongue is a bit pinker than before.

“Seven hells, Aeth,” Dew mutters, mostly to himself, feeding him another bite of strawberry, “Such a good boy for me.”

Aether makes a happy sound in his throat, graciously accepts the fruit that Dew continues to offer him, until he’s polished off the strawberries and eaten half of the pineapple chunks, his lips sticky and tacky with fruit juice, heat burning bright as his mate continues to care for him.

Dew’s mostly hard now, his determination to make sure Aether’s fed and well cared for waning away now that there’s less fruit in the bowl—Aether's scent growing sweeter the more content he gets.

Aether squeezes Dew’s ankle, turns his head away when Dew goes to offer him another bite of fruit and instead, mouths at Dew’s thigh, panting wetly against warm skin.

“Alright darling,” Dew murmurs, moving the bowls off of the bed, stretching his body as much as he can to get them placed somewhere stable—on the table or the floor, he’s not really focused, loses the last bit of pineapple in the bowl to the floor as he feels Aether tug at his leg. “I’ve got you,” he promises as he clamps a hand around the back of Aether’s neck, squeezes tight. “Let me take care of you, Aeth.”

A noise looses its way from Aether’s throat as he goes limp over his lap, the firm hand on the back of his neck keeping him in place. He wants to beg, plead for something, but Dew’s words, his promise to take care of him keep the words inside him.

“Good boy,” Dew murmurs again, presses his thumb against the side of Aether’s neck, where he can feel his pulse hammering away, “You’re so good, doing so well for me,” he continues, hissing a little as he gets a hand around himself. “Tongue out, big guy.”

Aether’s eager, tongue lolling out once more, the silver of his eyes swallowed up by the constellation of his iris as he tries to get closer—impatient, but Dew shushes him, squeezes the back of his neck in warning and Aether backs off, waits, patient and good.

“Good boy,” Dew repeats again, angles his cock to press against the flat of Aether’s tongue, cool and wet against his heated skin, “Shit, you’re such a good boy,” he murmurs with a moan, eyes fluttering closed.

He whines, the noise lodged low in his throat as Dew’s cock slides over his tongue, as one of Dew’s hands comes to gently cup his cheek, he doesn’t move—he waits, just like he’s supposed to, the salty, musky taste of precome heavy in his senses.

“Good boy,” Dew whispers in awe, looking down at the constellation flush across Aether’s dark cheeks, the way his lashes seem extra-long as they fan across the apples of his cheeks, eyes closed and content as he waits for Dew to tell him what to do next.

“You can suck,” Dew mumbles, traces the pad of his thumb over the corner of Aether’s mouth as the quintessence ghoul hollows his cheeks and sucks, moaning around his mouthful, already so far down. “Shit,” he whispers, cradles his cheek with a shaky hand as Aether drags his tongue against the ridge along the underside of his cock.

The heat in his veins burns brightly, urging him to take more, the promise of Dew’s come spilling inside him has him hungry for more, for keeping his mouth here, around Dew as long as he can, until the fire ghoul can’t take it anymore—he drifts, doubling his efforts as the hand on his cheek guides him to take more, to bob his head along the length in his mouth, until the lines blur together, until he’s no longer sure where Dew begins and he ends.

Aether’s scent blossoms into something sweet, swelling inside the room as he all but chokes himself on Dew’s cock, cheeks hollowed as he sucks him off enthusiastically and Dew feels a pull to it—he’s not rutting, but Satan Below, if anything could pull him head first into a rut, it would be Aether’s scent, cloying his senses until he can taste it.

“Babe, baby, babe,” Dew says, breathless, voice rough as he squeezes the back of Aether’s neck, uses his grip to ease him off of his cock after what feels like hours, shushes the quintessence ghoul when he whines for it. “Hey, hey, big guy, it’s alright, you’re stinkin’ up the place with need and I wanna make you feel good too,” he murmurs, placating, thumb brushing over Aether’s thundering pulse, “Lay on your back for me, sweetheart, let me get my mouth on you, my fingers in you.”

Aether makes a wild noise then, surges up despite Dew’s grip and tackles him to the bed, settling all of his weight over the fire ghoul, underwear sticky and wet as he grinds down against the curve of Dew’s cock—it pulls pleasantly, sates something animalistic and dirty he can’t quite name as he dips down and kisses Dew, his mate, firmly on the mouth.

Dew’s hands grapple at Aether’s waist, gripping his hips tight enough to leave indents behind as he guides his hips, making wounded little noises into the kiss, moaning as Aether bullies his mouth open, sucks on his tongue like he’s sucking cock all the while he’s getting wetter and wetter until he’s dripping through his underwear, slicking up Dew’s cock, getting his pubes saturated and wet—something that makes Aether purr, the animal inside him pleased at how he’s making his mate smell like him, how their scents are so intertwined it’s hard to tell whose is who’s.

Dew sucks in a sharp breath when Aether finally pulls away from the kiss, dives down and instead mouths along his neck and throat, tasting his skin and sweat and Dew feels an impatience bubble up in him, a need to provide that feels almost like rut but isn’t quite there.

His nails are sharp before he can think about it too long, easily slicing through the thin material of Aether’s underwear—he doesn’t dare move the ghoul on top of him as he pulls away shredded, soaked cotton until Aether’s blissfully bare.

His scent stronger now, no longer muted by cloth and Dew wastes no time slipping his hand between their bodies, nails dull and human as he sinks two fingers into Aether’s wet, clutching heat.

Aether moans wetly against Dew’s throat, shifts his knees further apart and sinks back onto his fingers, burning from the inside out—he can’t find the words, can’t help the way he all but rides Dew’s hand, wanting, needing everything that the fire ghoul is willing to give.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Dew manages to murmurs, curls his fingers and presses against the spot inside him that has his toes curling, “Just need to get you ready, baby, babe, just gotta make sure it’s good for you.”

He tolerates it for a bit, sucks a bruise into Dew’s clavicle, grinding down on the fingers inside him, mindless with pleasure, but the heat builds, grows exponentially until it feels like an inferno, he thinks he makes a noise, something pained, but he fights his own body’s faculties to get a hand down between his legs, to get it around Dew’s cock, babbling something as he guides the head of it where he’s already split open around Dew’s fingers.

A whine catches in his throat, and Dew doesn’t stop fingering him, even as the head of his cock pops inside, stretching him to nearly beyond what he can handle.

Dew shushes him, cards fingers through his hair as the fingers inside him press insistently against the spot inside him that has him shaking, “You can take it, baby, you just need it so much you can’t wait, I know, but I’ve still got to stretch you, even if you’ve already got me inside.”

Aether makes a pitiful sound, grinds against the fingers and cock inside him until Dew slips into him a bit more, fingers buried knuckle deep, the ridge on his cock pressing teasingly against his hole, almost inside him.

He sobs then, when Dew’s fingers crook up and he gets a thumb against his dick, rubbing circles against the sensitive head where he’s sticky and hard—his body clenching up right around fingers and cock alike as he comes, a gushing flood of slick covering them, a pitchy moan leaving his mouth when the fingers slip out of Dew’s cock slides into him fully.

He's being shifted around, thighs wide over Dew’s hips, shaky knees digging into the bed as he sits fully on Dew’s cock, clenching rhythmically around it—the hard ridge satiates a dirty desire in him to be knotted full—Dew’s cock pressing up inside him in all the right places, keeping him full and happy.

He grinds his hips down, small little circles and Dew hisses, digs heady bruises into his skin as he holds him, guides him—he’s babbling, calling him a good boy all the while the slick mess between them grows.

"Good boy, good boy, good boy,” Dew whispers through clenched teeth as Aether milks his cock, coaxing him closer and closer to his orgasm, he gets his hand on Aether’s cock again, circling slick fingers around it and rubbing, rubbing oh so carefully as he guides Aether into another orgasm, the quintessence ghoul shouting as he undulates on top of him, in his lap.

Dew guides him down into a kiss, hand on the back of his neck as he fucks up into him, Aether’s body sated and limp, happy—he feels Aether’s teeth, sharp, on his bottom lip and that’s all it really takes for him to drive up into Aether a few more times, coming with a harsh cry into the kiss, nails digging into the back of Aether’s neck.

He whines, pulls away from the kiss and shoves his face into Dew’s throat, shaking a little as he settles, as the flood of come inside him stops that voice in the back of his mind, the begging, begging, begging that’d been itching beneath his skin for days.

Finally quiet.

Dew’s arm slides around Aether’s lower back, settles there, warm and steady as he rolls them, until Aether’s on his back and Dew’s laying between his splayed legs, still hard enough to stay inside, to keep him plugged and full—there’s an itch of oversensitivity in the back of his mind but he pushes it out of his mind as Aether’s content purr rumbles beneath him, vibrates his chest, his own answering sound coming from somewhere deep within.

They’ll have to move, at some point, when Aether’s a little more aware, when the ache in his legs and thighs call for a change in position, when he’s able to form a coherent word once more, but for now, Dew is content to pepper kisses against Aether’s forehead and listen to him purr as the first round of heat settles.

[mamawasatesttube]

Janet lives au my beloved, I love the difference in the Janet lives vs the Jack lives au :)

Happy holidays! :D

thanks, happy holidays to you too!!!

also aughgh right??? there is so much to ponder wrt janet our collective beloved janet... i think often about this. like. his issues with jack would both shrink and grow because on the one hand jack is no longer actively around to do shit to feed into tim's many complexes. on the other hand, he now has jack up on the Perfect Dad pedestal in his mind because he's dead. can't criticize your dead dad that's fucked up and horrible. right?

and on the other hand. man. so lets posit he has a better relationship with janet than he would with jack (because janet is a better parent than jack, and let's be real, that isn't really a high bar. but given jack's... everything, i just kinda really get the vibe that he left most of the actual parenting to janet). now at first you'd think this is solely a good thing! ...but can you imagine how much more agonized tim is about having to lie to his beloved mommy???? all the time??? he's even more torn between The Mission and his filial piety this time around!!! augh!!!

like all those times jack didnt notice tim hiding bruises with makeup ? if janet's around it is sooo possible that tim steals HER makeup for this specifically at least once and She. Notices. deeply possible that she puts together "tim showing up with mysterious injuries he keeps trying to hide and also lying to me about it" with "tim getting closer with dick grayson and bruce wayne while i was away" and deduces that she doesn't know WHAT they've gotten her little baby boy into, but she IS going to kill those guys. tim keeps insisting that they're very nice to him but that really isn't helping anything. but just the entire concept of janet actually paying attention to tim's injuries - noticing if he steals her makeup!!! - or paying attention to things like. *checks notes* one of his classmates being SHOT DEAD at their SCHOOL ???? hey jack how did you not even check on him once after this. whats wrong with you. i just wanna talk jack

so i think she'd find out tim's robin way faster than jack. he probably would agonize about wanting her to know but The Mission and the need for secrecy, etc. but notably, when she finds out, i don't think she'd force him to quit - she'd really really want him to, because this is so dangerous and he's her baby and she doesn't want him to get hurt!!! but if he pushed back and tried to explain his side of it, she'd actually be willing to at least hear him out (unlike jack).

but also. not to be predictable but. i think it would be really funny if at some point during this drama kon-el shows up on the front doorstep looking for robin, and eavesdrops just enough to understand that janet knows now. because. hear me out. this is how we once again arrive at tim walking into his own house and home and just balking because kon is at the kitchen table hanging out with his mother. mom why the heck are you giving superboy my oreos!!!!

(also, calling back a little to the concept of baby kon somehow befriending janet, but. very specific vision in my mind of "janet lives past identity crisis too au" where at some point baby kon mentions to tim in her earshot that hes never had a mom and wonders whats it like?? and she doesnt say anything but this strikes her to the heart. several years down the line when timkon are established at some point she's like conner sweetie i know a long time back you said you don't have a mother, and i understand that completely and don't mean to try and take any place in your life you don't want me in, but if you ever would like to have a mother-in-law… and tim is just like. MOM. ARE YOU TRYING TO PROPOSE TO KON FOR ME??? THIS IS SO CRINGE. UGH MOM STOP)

[mj-iza-writer]

I'm loving lab whumps lately. I don't know why.

"What's for lunch today?", Whumpee lifted their head to watch Whumper tighten the last strap.

"Tator tots and turkey sandwiches", Whumper frowned, "that looks tight. Is that too tight?", they tried to tuck a finger under the strap.

"A little, but it's okay", Whumpee looked at them with puppy eyes.

Whumper turned to a table and grabbed a few items.

"You are quite talkative for someone strapped to the Doc's table. Unaware of what you may be about to endure", someone stood next to the table and watched Whumper.

"They don't get nervous anymore", Whumper sighed as they filled a syringe, "they just talk through it now."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No not really Carmen", Whumper chuckled, "makes my job a little easier, and I can hear my music playing when my patient isn't on my table screaming."

Whumpee glanced at a few people working by the table.

"Don't worry about what they're doing", Whumper wiped an alcohol wipe along Whumpee's arm, "you shouldn't feel anything from this", Whumper felt for the right spot to inject the substance, "this should actually numb you. We are testing a numbing agent."

Whumpee nodded.

"Do you feel anything?", Whumper tapped on the space after a few minutes.

"Not there", Whumpee answered.

Whumper tapped around a few different spots to see what the diameter of numbness was and marked accordingly.

"Alright, nurse is going to run a few tests to see how numb you actually are", Whumper looked over the arm, "answer with yes or no. If yes, rate from 1-5. One being light feelings, five being ouch."

Whumpee nodded again.

Carmen chuckled, "well, aren't you so well behaved."

Whumpee kept their head turned, so not to watch and mess up the test.

"Round one", the nurse stated, "do you feel this?"

"No", Whumpee answered after a few seconds.

"Carmen", Whumper whispered, "come here."

"Let's let the nurse do their job", Whumper leaned against the wall and watched.

"Have they always been this calm?", Carmen also watched.

"No, they use to scream until they couldn't. I wouldn't even do anything to them, and they would scream. It got to me, I would get very violent with them. The tests I'd run on them would purposely hurt. It went on for months", Whumper sighed as they thought back.

"What changed?", Carmen heard Whumpee say yes to feeling something.

"There was a test I had to run on them. I had to end up explaining it carefully to them or else it wouldn't have worked right", Whumper grinned when Whumpee replied with a two, "they were nervous during the test, but it was successful."

Whumper looked at Carmen.

"That was the first time I saw Whumpee as a human, and not some tool for me to use and abuse."

"Why though? What happened there that triggered a positive response in your relationship?", Carmen asked curiously.

"After the test was successful, I gave them a treat... part of my cookie. I was so proud. I curiously asked them what made it easier for them to follow what needed to be done. Whumpee said that having it explained to them made it more bearable. They understood that it had a meaning and though nervous that they would mess up... they tried. I realized then that Whumpee was probably curious about things that were going on around them. I believe they have a right to know... so back then I told them that we could allow for questions and curiosities before testing if it would make it easier on them. They agreed."

"So Whumpee isn't afraid of things in here and the things being done to them because they know you will answer any questions they have before hand", Carmen looked down, "they learned to trust you."

"Yes, they are human. They should be allowed to...."

"Doc we need you", the nurse called.

Whumper froze for a second to watch as everyone in the room hurried to Whumpee's side.

Whumper jumped in as well.

"Stats, what's going on", Whumper watched as Whumpee shook violently, "talk to me people", Whumper yelled.

"Blood pressure has increased..."

"We are picking up spikes in Whumpee's brain waves..."

Whumpee fought against the restraints. Their body jerked violently.

Whumper opened one of Whumpee's eyes and shined a light.

"Pupils are dilated", Whumper started to unstrap Whumpee, "they are having a seizure. We need them on their side in the recovery position. Hurry and get these straps off. I need everyone to surround the table to make sure Whumpee does not flop off."

"They would be better on the floor", Carmen stepped up and helped remove the straps.

"I agree, but I'm not moving them right now", Whumper helped push Whumpee, "they are foaming at the mouth. Whoever is by the head needs to keep that area wiped clean."

"Yes Doc", someone spoke over the chaos.

"Alright come on Whumpee", Whumper patted their shoulder.

"Reminder do not hold them down. Let their body do its thing", Whumper had noticed a nurse holding Whumpee's ankle, "you'll get hurt trying to hold onto them."

"Do they have a history of seizures?", Carmen looked up at the monitors.

"Nope, this is a first", Whumper turned to the monitor, "this is going longer than I would like."

A few more seconds passed.

Whumpee stopped shaking violently and squinted one of their eyes open.

"Pain level is... five", Whumpee mumbled, "what just happened?"

"You had a seizure", Whumper patted their shoulder, "you were out for longer than I would have liked. We need to check a few things to make sure you are okay."

"Can I nap first.... mm tired", Whumpee frowned.

"No you may not", Whumper started to role Whumpee back onto their back, "come on, we need to clean you up and get the test done. I'll let you sleep after."

Whumpee was slowly sat up.

"I think I peed myself", Whumpee frowned.

"That happens. We will get you all cleaned", a nurse hurried over.

"So do you remember anything that led to that happening?", Whumper wiped away a line of snot oozing down Whumpee's face.

"We were on round.... uh... round....mm I don't remember. I don't even know if nurse had done something, I just remember saying that I didn't feel well. Then I heard them call for you. I knew something bad was happening", Whumpee looked down, "I'm really tired."

"Alright, let's get you on the floor. All of the monitors are reading normal or going back to normal", Whumper looked at the screens surrounding the table, "we will get you comfortable. I want you still connected to the monitors."

Whumper stood after laying Whumpee down.

"I need all the data that was found on this incident", Whumper reached down and ruffled Whumpee's hair, "quite an interesting reaction we had here today."

Whumpee nodded and laid their head down on a blanket one of the nurse set out for them.

"Can I still have tator tots", Whumpee watched Whumper walk away, "is it lunch time?"

"You can", Whumper nodded at a nurse. Who turned and left the room.

Carmen watched from nearby.

Whumper leaned onto the table that Whumpee just came off of. They clicked a few items on the monitors.

"Really interesting", Whumper studied the monitors. Their chin rested on their hand in thought.

"What are you thinking?", Carmen's interest got the best of them and they walked over.

"Whumpee has never had a seizure before. The ingredients in that injection are normal. Nothing Whumpee is allergic to. I'm wondering if the ingredients combined caused this, and if so, could it happen again. Is it isolated to one person, or could this affect others."

"Too bad you don't have another test subject", Carmen sighed.

"Yeah too bad", Whumper sighed. They smirked as they looked up, an evil sparkle in their eyes.

"Did you remember something?", Carmen stepped away nervously, "I don't like that face too much."

"Its the only face I have", Whumper looked at the door, "guards."

People in heavy armor poured in. The door was immediately blocked.

"I've decided that our friend Carmen here would be a perfect test subject. Please arrest them for me", Whumper walked over to Whumpee again.

"You can't do this", Carmen fought against the guards grabbing them, "I'm supposed to be a partner with you. That was the deal."

"I never agreed to anything", Whumper grinned, "everything that you thought would happen was your own fantasy. It was already planned that you would be my new test subject", Whumper knelt down and patted Whumpee's head.

Whumpee watched nervously.

"And what perfect timing. I know what you can help me with", Whumper watched the nurse carry in a plate of tator tots and a sandwich.

"Don't worry, I always take care of my test subjects. You'll get to eat soon too, but since we are already in here, let's get some stats. To the table with them guards", Whumper reached for the plate, "mm, these looks delicious Whumpee", they grabbed a tot and ate it, "I'll be in here for a while. I might have to ask for a plate myself."

Whumpee shyly nodded.

Whumper offered a tot to Whumpee, then set the plate down next to them.

Carmen screamed as the straps were tightened.

Whumper ruffled Whumpee's hair gingerly, "get some rest after you eat. Let me know if you don't feel good again. Okay."

Whumpee watched them stand before nodding.

"Such a good Whumpee. Don't worry about Carmen. As long as they follow my rules they will be just fine", Whumper grinned before looking at Carmen.

Carmen fearfully stared back. Their shirt had been torn open. Monitors were being stuck to them in various locations.

"Keep in mind", Whumper began, "I've learned that my test subjects are human. I respect their autonomy. The moment you prove to me that you can't act human. That will be taken away from you. Am I clear?"

Carmen turned worriedly and looked at Whumpee.

Whumpee didn't dare look up. They were on Whumper's good list and wanted it to stay that way.

"They won't help you", Whumper noticed, "you have to decide on your own on how you will act."

Carmen felt tears in their eyes.

"What are you going to do to me?"

Whumper grinned evilly.

Carmen squeezed their eyes shut to get away from that evil stare.

"Aww don't worry", Whumper rested their hand on Carmen's quivering shoulder, "just be happy I'm past my evil scientist faze. Whumpee had to endure all of that. You get the nice Doc. Just be good and everything should be alright."

Carmen whispered, "please don't hurt me. Wait, uhm, wh-whats for dinner? Th-that's what Whumpee asked earlier right?"

Whumper chuckled, "very good question. I think I heard pot roast and some variation of potatoes. I think it sounds delicious. Let's get the data we need from you so you can be in your cell and comfortable before dinner."

Carmen sobbed all though the data captures.

Their legs felt like jelly when they were stood up for pictures.

"Wh-what is all of this for?", Carmen felt lightheaded.

"Doctor wants a profile set up for you. It will have your picture. You will answer a questionnaire about things you like and personal info. It will be updated with stats... like the data we just got from you", a nurse started pulling a few of the stickers off.

Whumper walked in from taking Whumpee to their cell.

"Their cell is ready for them when you are all done", Whumper announced.

"They're done. Just the questionnaire which we get tomorrow", another nurse looked at Carmen, "we have everything we need from them."

"Perfect", Whumper rubbed their hands together, "I always enjoy getting new toys."

Carmen snapped their head to Whumper.

"Oh, is there something you would like to say?", Whumper smirked, "think before you speak is my suggestion."

"N-no", Carmen mumbled.

"I thought so", Whumper chuckled.

Carmen looked into each of the cells as they were led to their own.

"Where is Whumpee's?", they looked around when they were stopped.

"Oh they're a few halls away", Whumper turned, "I have a weird thing about having test subjects close together. I feel that escape attempts could be planned if we're not careful. I have plenty of cells to keep everyone separated. Though I would love to see all of these cells filled. Maybe one day. As for right now, I want my well behaved Whumpee to stay that way."

Carmen was released and pushed into the cell. The door slammed shut and locked.

"Please this joke has gone long enough. It was really funny... except for the bath... and bloodwork... I don't like needles", Carmen panicked and pressed their hands against the solid door of their cell, "you can let me out now."

"I'm not one for jokes. Dinner will be served in about an hour. Enjoy your room", Whumper and the guards promptly turned and walked away.

Carmen dropped to their knees, "no please", they yelled.

They slammed their fist against the door until it ached.

"Please....please", Carmen sobbed as they folded themself into a ball and cried.

"Pitiful", someone from the outside stated in annoyance. A small door was opened, and a tray was slid in.

Carmen looked at it nervously.

"Eat, I will be back in thirty to collect. Whatever you don't eat will be taken away. If you refuse to eat, the Doctor will happily put a feeding tube down your nose", they warned.

"I've been forced to be lab rat. How would you feel if that was your fate?", Carmen clenched their teeth.

"That was your fault. You trusted a scientist who so eagerly showed you their lab rat and a recent experiment. You weren't leaving here alive. You accepted the invitation. You can only blame yourself."

Carmen stared for several moments. Even after the person left.

The food caught their attention. It did look good.

"What have I done?", Carmen reached for tray. They looked all over for eating utensils.

A click came from somewhere in the room.

"There is a peace of curved cardboard on your tray. Use that to eat", a static voice came through.

Carmen looked again and found it. They held it up to show whoever was watching.

"Yep", the static voice agreed, "your food is already cut into pieces. You just need to spoon it into your mouth."

Carmen looked at the food again.

"Is this what I've been reduced to?", Carmen whispered as they gathered their first bite.

"At least the food is good", Carmen sighed, "listen to me", they rolled their eyes, "accepting this treatment because I was given good food."

"Just be happy you get to eat", Whumper's voice came over, "and stop complaining. I can make this worse for you."

Carmen sighed.

"What have I done?"

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath

@porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

@freefallingup13 @notpeppermint

@cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet

@painfulplots @whumpbump

@everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson

@legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace

@whumpanthems @lavndvrr

@ivymyers @starfields08000

@a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311

@whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@castiels-favorite-hunter @isikedmyself878

@daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud @valravnthefrenchie

@glennemerald @jasperthecapser

@does-directions @deafeninglittlecrown

@jumpywhumpywriter @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @thenormalestever

@whatwhump @galatic-worm

@starmoon-constellation @bacillusinfection

@whumpsandbumps @tobiasbones

@octopus-reactivated

[nuggeteri]

pour @jean-phillipedelaporte

(for my best french friend except it's in English let's go.)

(I take any and all requests about the life series.)

-

Scott took a step back.

He was in the Cod Lands.

He didn't know why, per say. A few hours ago, he could've asked his council and they'd probably have given him a dozen good reasons for him to be here. But right at this moment, Scott didn't think any reason would be worth endangering Jimmy.

Or, well, the Codfather, but he insisted on being referred to as Jimmy by Scott, for some weird reason. Even if he got all riled up whenever Fwhip dared to utter that name. He guessed that came with allyship.

It didn't matter either way--he didn't even know if that offer still stood true or not. He definitely wasn't allied with Fwhip anymore, his standing with Gem was shaky at best, and he's still not solved the conflict between him and Shubble. If he had the misfortune of fucking it all up, Jimmy definitely could take him in a fight.

Which was a weird thought, wasn't it? The Cod Lands had always been made fun of for being the weakest Empire. Standing here, though, Scott couldn't help but feel as though power meant nothing if he didn't have allies.

Katherine wouldn't help him in a war--she'd be allied with his ennemies. And Jimmy actually had many allies, like the Copper King, Queen Lizzie and King Joel.

He's spiraling, he knew this. It didn't stop him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" A voice interrupted his thought process--it couldn't be anyone other than Jimmy. And he sounded so friendly, Scott didn't even know why he was spiraling in the first place.

(A step back and frost on the ground told him exactly why, but he gulped and ignored it. He had things to do here---though he couldn't remember what.)

"You're not helping your case here." He said instead of voicing any of his thoughts. Why would he ever, anyway? Jimmy just looked at him--brows furrowing making the confusion crystal clear on his face. "What case?"

"With the nickels." He clarified and Jimmy just groaned---getting a chuckle out of Scott.

"What do you want anyway Scott?" He asked to change the subject. Scott let's him--he'd let Jimmy do anything.

"I can't quite recall," He answered honestly.

"It has been a while since we've seen each other. We can just hang out."

The reminder hit him right in the gut.

He hadn't seen anyone in a while because he'd been away doing his pity party in the Wastes, leaving his council in charge while he figured out his powers. Not like he ever did, anyway.

"We can't." Scott answered, once more, honestly. "I'm a busy man." Which is not all that honest, but it would get the job done...

"Busy visiting my Empire?" And that is the worse. Jimmy is not calling him out on his bullshit, his voice is filled with pure curiosity. Scott plays on it. "We don't have a lot of books on mer-above-land culture."

Which wasn't untrue.

"The Cod Lands are young, my apologies. We don't have many historians yet."

Yet they could beat him in a war, because Scott didn't have allies.

He sighed and looked over the horizon--it being the ocean. As an Avian, he could see further than most species, meaning he could see the outline of the Ocean Empire from here.

"Rivendell has always loved writing. I don't doubt I could send some journalists your way, then?" He proposed, because while he was curious---he also didn't want to make his visit worthless.

(There was Jimmy. How could anything ever be worthless if there was Jimmy? Scott's really selfish, isn't he?)

"That wouldn't bother me at all. More exposure, really. My Empire also loves writing, mostly stories though."

Rivendell... Doesn't actually have many fiction writing, really. Autobiographies, sure, plenty of poems and historical books, but very few novels. "You've peeked my attention."

"The Cod Empire is just approaching it's fifteen birthday. Most our authors are teens, believe it or not. Creating romance between mer, because they have never seen it depicted. It's quite sweet. I don't imagine they have the talent of full fledged Rivendell authors, though." Jimmy didn't know that Rivendell didn't actually have any novel authors. He doesn't break the news to him yet, though.

"Have some faith, art is art. I have never seen mer love stories. Care to share?"

"It can vary a lot. From coral to kelp, hot and cold waters, sand dust and gravel, mud and dirt. Ice, too."

Ice?

"Ice?"

"Yeah, well, ice is water, is it not? Water magic can still control it."

"Really?" He can't help but thinks about his magic. "How come you haven't shown it in Rivendell?"

"That would be an act of war, wouldn't it? Affecting the environment without consent." He said and Scott can't help but think about the many empires he's accidentally frozen. "But we also kinda did. The pond, the cod never really died when it got frozen over, did they?"

Jimmy knew about that? It wasn't the time to dwell on it, though, because Jimmy was.. right.

His hands start to form fists. He can feel ice spreading on his palm and he didn't want it to get out of control.

"Come on, big guy, let me see," The Codfather said as he approached Scott--Scott took one step back, simply one, which is why Jimmy gets to him and softly takes his hand.

In a matter of seconds, it all melts back to water.

"See? Ice doesn't only have sharp edges."

[galactichoneybee92]

Helluva Boss Season 3 Predictions

So now that I've spent the past week or so recovering from Sinsmas, I'd like to take some time to think about what's coming in the next season. Strap in: This post got WAY longer than anticipated. Spoiler warning for absolutely everything.

We are going to have ample time to concoct theories since Vivzie already confirmed that there will be a considerable wait for the new season. However, she did also confirm that we will be getting more shorts to hold us over and also that the extended wait time is in order to facilitate a more regular update schedule once season 3 premiers. We haven't gotten any further information on what that schedule might look like but I'm hoping for weekly releases instead of monthly so, you know, fingers crossed.

While season 2 was incredibly heavy on the Stolitz arc, Vivzie has stated that season 3 will be more focused on exploring some of the other characters. I'm sure Stolitz isn't going to disappear and that some of the episodes will still be focused on the progression of their relationship (I've seen some people saying that the Stolitz arc is over and like...respectfully...no? They're not even officially together? They have so much ground left to cover) but it would be nice to flesh out the rest of the characters in this universe.

One of the big plot points will of course be Millie's pregnancy. Now let me just say now, I'm already so incredibly sick of the "Millie cheated" theory. As if that's the only reason that a woman could be nervous about an unplanned pregnancy. Be so fucking for real. As for how I think they'll handle it, I think there could be some interesting juxtaposition happening between Stolas losing his child and the M&Ms gaining theirs. Millie is clearly very anxious about the pregnancy and I would personally love if there was an episode devoted to her trying to find ways to talk to Moxxie or Blitz about it but never quite finding the words, and in the end it winds up being Stolas who is able to help her. Out of all of IMP, he's the only one who has not only raised a baby, but did so while he was very young and probably very apprehensive about it. For all that he loves his daughter, Octavia was very much conceived out of obligation rather than either he or Stella feeling ready to bring a child into the world and I just think that it could be a good bonding moment for the two of them.

Right now IMP very much feels like the gang + Stolas, and I desperately need there to be more time devoted to Stolas getting to know the rest of IMP better. I think bonding with Millie could be an excellent first step (Step 2: Him and Moxxie bond over musical theater. Millie and Blitz are always trying to pawn Moxxie off on each other when it comes to watching musicals with him and I think it would be really great if he could have a musical theater bestie who actually enjoys them. And lets be real- There's no way you can watch Stolas's entire little musical production in Mastermind and come out thinking that that dramatic little fuck wouldn't love a good musical)

Speaking of Octavia, I would love to explore her character more. I have a lot of thoughts and opinions on her that I will probably explore in another post but while she does frustrate me, I do love her. Additionally, I'm very interested in what Stella and Andrealphus have planned now. They succeeded in getting Stolas out of the picture, his titles have passed to Andrealphus until Octavia is of age, but that has to be soon, right? Octavia was 17 in season 1 and while I'm not sure how much time has passed she has to be coming up on 18. 18 was the age that Loona was going to age out of the foster system so it's apparently the age of majority in Hell, the same as on Earth, so that would be the age that she would inherit her father's titles and estate. What are their plans for her then?

I think it's very possible that they will continue with their plan to have Stolas killed now that they no longer need him. Would they go as far as to try and kill Octavia too? What would happen if they did? What is the line of succession? Octavia clearly doesn't have any children so would Andrealphus get to keep everything?

Stolas and Stella were engaged as children, but so far we haven't seen anything about an arranged marriage for Octavia. If Stolas had to marry in order to secure a "precautionary heir", wouldn't Octavia need to do the same now that she has inherited everything? I wonder if we will get either a birthday episode (Octavia dealing with having her 18th birthday without her father- Stolas dealing with missing his daughter's 18th birthday) or an arranged marriage plotline (Maybe Stella announces her daughter's engagement on her 18th birthday?)

This next theory is really out there but bear with me here and remember that they're strongly based on European royalty: What if Andrealphus tries to marry Octavia to secure the title for him and his sister.

Overall, I think an arranged marriage arc could really do a lot for Octavia's character in regard to her perspective on Stolas. Right now she only really views Stolas as her father, not as person in his own right, independent of his relationship to her. She only sees the ways in which he's failed her and not any of his own personal struggles. Furthermore, she had the quote from Sinsmas, 'You don't love mother and you don't love me- You love him." Which seems to imply that she thought her parents loved each other??? Stolas has mentioned on several occasions that he did his best to give her a normal life and I wonder if that included hiding the fact that he and Stella hated each other. It leads me to believe that maybe she thinks that they were happily in love until he met Blitz and then that was the catalyst for their marriage falling apart instead of their marriage having always been rotten at the core.

But what does that have to do with Octavia having an arranged marriage? Well I could see Octavia being very against it and Stella saying something like "Oh please, I had an arranged marriage when I was your age" and Octavia discovering the truth of the matter. She expressed surprise that her parents didn't marry for love and then Stella is like "Me? Love Stolas? Don't be ridiculous."

I mean naturally the wedding never happens- Stolas and IMP are able to interfere and save her from going through with it and maybe in the process repair her relationship with Stolas. Maybe they could steal her away and if she's staying with them she might be able to see all of the ways in which Blitz isn't some evil father-stealer like she's imagined him being. It sets it up for her to see them being soft with each other and maybe compare it to her memories of her parents and how they were never affectionate like that. Maybe Stolas will do something dorky that Stella would usually mock him for but instead Blitz will just roll his eyes and think it's cute and they might laugh about it together. And then Blitz would definitely make her smiley face pancakes in the morning (because he's nothing if not a girl-dad) and I could definitely see him remembering that one time in Sinsmas that Stolas mentioned that rats were Octavia's favorite snack and being sure to hunt some down for her.

Other unrelated small things I would like to see:

Blitz gets Stolas a little plant for the apartment.

Blitz gets some glow in the dark stars for the ceiling.

I'd love to explore Loona's character some more. How old was she when she went into foster care? Why was she there? Was she surrendered as a baby? Was she taken by whatever passes as CPS in Hell? Did she have any other foster families before Blitz? Why didn't they work out? Was she returned for behavioral issues or something? What's the story there? We got a little bit in Seeing Stars but not nearly enough and I would love to flesh out her backstory.

What about Loona's love life? She clearly had a crush on Vortex in season 1 and was disappointed to find out that not only did he already have a girlfriend but that that girlfriend was Bee- one of the seven deadly sins. Not someone she could compete with. Now me personally? I think that Bee has 2 hands and is the god of gluttony- she could definitely handle a 3-way polyamorous relationship. But that's just me. I don't actually have any sort of canon evidence to back that theory up, it's just more like a fun head canon: Let Loona Have a Boyfriend AND a Girlfriend 2025. (But if they introduce a new love interest for her? That's fine too. I just want my girl to be happy)

Finally, there has to be more about Barbie in season 3. Now I'm not super in love with her character like some of y'all are (This fandom has the unique ability to see a character with 30 seconds of screen time and LATCH ON like no one's business. See: Vasago) but she's an important part of Blitz's past. I think that a Barbie episode could be a good opportunity for Stolas (And Millie? And Moxxie? And Loona even? How much does IMP even know about Blitz's past???) to learn more about Blitz's past and trauma while also fleshing Barbie out as a character.

I feel that there are 3 major relationships that Blitz has to resolve in one way or another before he can properly heal from the events of the fire: Fizz, Barbie, and Cash. Him and Fizz have worked through their issues and are back on good terms and I feel like Barbie is next since we have actually met her in present day. Alternatively, we have no clue what Cash has been up to since the fire or even where he is now which leads me to believe that Blitz will probably be confronting him last, if at all.

That's all I've got so far but please, if you've read this far, drop a comment or a reblog with you own thoughts and opinions. Tell me what you think of my theories and share your own in return! We've got a long wait until the next season so we might as well scream about it together :)

[zevlovor]

Can I ask for your thoughts about how Zevlor would react to Tav accidentally saying you want to kiss him out loud while staring at his lips please?

Pairing: Zevlor x gn Reader Tav

Setting: The morning after you and Zevlor were shamelessly flirting the night away and he kissed your cheek goodnight.

_

Zevlor was going on and on about everything you needed to prepare for battle. Formations, weapons, equipment, medicine, spells, strategies, etc. You were *not* paying attention.

To what he was saying anyway.

His perched, supple lips had a way of moving that entranced you like an exotic dance. You admired the subtle wrinkle that dented the middle of his pouty bottom lip. What you wouldn't give to feel those lips against yours.

"I hope that covers everything, Tav. Actually, I don't think we went over everyone's prepared spells. Maybe if we-" He tilted his head at you. He noticed the vacant look in your gaze, as if in a trance. "My dear, are you alright?" His eyes swell with concern for you. You are sitting there, objectifying him, and all he can do is be *concerned* for you.

You come to your senses for a moment, "Me? Oh.. yes. Yes of course. Mostly thanks to you. I may have never gone to sleep if you didn't make me."

Zevlor raises a brow with a bit of a cheeky grin playing at those delicious lips, "Is that so? I am quite honored considering you don't strike me as someone who does what they are told." He lets out a hearty chuckle. You watch as his velvet rose-colored lips stretch into a charming grin. His mouth has complete control over you right now. You can't control what you say next.

"I would do anything you say for a kiss on the lips, honestly" you blurt. Your face heats up with embarassment, but you don't really regret it.

Zevlor is taken aback. He has turned down the advances of many suitors in favor of his duties. But you didn't seem to mind how dutiful he was. He couldn't deny the fact that he had been dreaming of kissing your lips for days. He has no idea how to respond, he tries not to lose his cool.

"I suppose I did tease you a bit with that kiss on the cheek last night," he admits. Although, from his perspective, he wasn't trying to tease you. He thought you were a worthy but young ally, and he only wanted to be a gentleman. You would prefer he stop being a gentleman right now.

"Zevlor, we didn't really discuss morale for battle strategy. I think I will fight much better if you..." your voice trails off as does your confidence. Zevlor can see how he's torturing you. He can't leave you hanging any longer.

"Tav..." his deep, soothing, husky voice caresses your ears. He takes your cheek in his large calloused hand and tilts his head, lowering his lips to meet yours.

He kisses you deeply, pressing his lips into you like you are water and he hasn't had a drink for weeks. You have no idea how long he's been wanting to do this.

You whimper as the kiss takes your breath away, closing your eyes and sinking into the sensation. He tastes like cinders mixed with honey, reminiscent of his hypnotic eyes. You can feel the heat of his skin and the pressure of his embrace as he pulls you closer to him with his other hand. He has a strong, firm, presence, but is alarmingly gentle for such a rugged man.

You couldn't help but slip your tongue into his mouth as he pulls away, just to signal that you will definitely be back for more. He goes silent and looks at you with eyes of a nervous puppy, awkwardly stammering, "Th-that was.. truly wonderful, Tav."

You smile at him confidently. He is so cute when he's flustered. "Now that was a kiss for good luck. Should we both survive, we can pick up where we left off tonight..." you flash him a playful grin. Zevlors eyes widen at your invitation. He quickly comes up with a smooth response.

"We'll have to wait and see if you can still do what you're told then, darling." Zevlor winks, your clear attraction for him growing his confidence. It isn't long before the others join the two of you, forcing you both to remain professional once again. It's almost time to face the music and save the Grove.

Zevlor fights only for his people or his values. Today, he will be fighting for you.

END

-

Thank you for this ask, anon!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

I wanted to post a little something for you guys today. For those of you who celebrate any holidays this season, I wish you a happy one. Having all of you as followers and friends in this lovely little community was the best gift I could have hoped for 🫶

And soon, very soon I hope, I will be posting something other than straight fluff 🤭 it is just too fun to write 😘

Love you all 🫶

⚔️❤️‍🔥Krys❤️‍🔥⚔️

[moe-broey]

Why did I start like three other projects when I was already working on a big project when I just got hit with the autism exhaustion beam (requires. At least One Full Day just dead in bed, and then some more Taking It Easy time after)

[youraveragecatastrophe]

We’ve talked in the past about Julia’s red shirt (in her season 1/season 4 outfit) showing her sympathy towards Carmen. What about other parts of her outfits?

First, to contrast with the red shirt peeking through her dark pantsuit, we have Julia’s ACME suit.

[ID : two cropped screenshots from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. The first one shows Julia Argent on the train in India, in her dark suit with red shirt outfit. The second one shows Julia in Rio de Janeiro, in her ACME suit. End ID]

The ACME suits, being uniforms, are all the same (the biggest difference being skirts for the women vs pants for the men), the same way the agents are asked for uniformity, conformity and following orders.

The suits have no color apart from a navy so dark it’s close to black - in fact, depending on the lighting they look almost black and white. Quite like their way of thinking.

[ID : a screenshot from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. Agent Zari and Random White Agent stand on either side of a door. They are in the shadows and their uniforms look dark and desaturated. End ID]

As I noted on a previous post, at the same time Julia receives her suit and as such lets go of her red shirt, she is asked to renounce her feelings that Carmen is innocent. Season 2, where she almost exclusively wears the ACME uniform, is the one where Julia briefly doubts Carmen and struggles to reconcile following her superior’s orders with her convictions. Ultimately, when she does not manage it, she resigns (season 3) and as such goes back to her red shirt outfit. It is in that outfit that she teams up with Carmen in a substantial way in season 4.

Other agents (and, notably, agent Zari, the most featured ACME agent apart from Julia and Chase) tend to wear black gloves. In line with their behavior, this suggests keeping a distance with their environment, refusing to feel things too deeply. Julia doesn’t wear gloves, however, not even in Stockholm where the weather would definitely justify it. Despite Chief's insistance, Julia keeps paying attention to her feelings.

Then, Julia’s glasses. Her glasses in seasons 2-3 are ACME regulation eyewear : once again, they’re part of the uniform, so the same model as the other ACME agents. Big, bulky, they’re almost rectangle in shape, all sharp angles : this suggests rigidity and an absence of flexibility in ACME’s mentality. Also note the dark lenses : they symbolically obscure the vision.

[ID : a screenshot from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. In Indonesia, Zari and Random White Agent stand against the sky. Their glasses' lenses are noticeably very dark. End ID]

And what about Julia’s original glasses, the ones she wears before joining ACME and those she returns to as she leaves ? They are the exact opposite of the ACME glasses : round and clear, what you need to look at the world as it is.

[ID : a cropped screenshot from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. In San Francisco, Julia wears her red shirt outfit with her round glasses. End ID]

[highwaydiamonds]

[arolesbianism]

Oh also further update on my experiences with the new oni dlc. Bionic dupes struggle in early game ceres a bit I think (their poor poor gears)

[kaijutegu]

Alligator Body Language and You, or: How To Know When An Alligator On Social Media is Being Stressed for Views

Alligators are wild animals. Despite the idiotic claims of animal abusers like Jay Brewer, they cannot be domesticated, which means they are always going to react on the same natural instincts they've had for millions of years. Habituated, yes. Tamed, yes. Trained, definitely. Crocodilians can form bonds with people- they're social and quite intelligent. They can solve problems, use tools, and they're actually quite playful. Alligators are also really good at communicating how they're feeling, but to somebody who doesn't spend much time around them, their body language can be a bit mystifying. And it doesn't help when social media influencers are saying shit like this:

That is not what a happy gator looks like.

That's a terrified, furious gator who isn't attacking because the ogre handling her has her in a chokehold. She's doing everything she can to express her displeasure, and he's lying about it because he knows his audience doesn't even know how to think critically about what he's doing. He knows that because his audience doesn't know anything about these animals, he can get away with it. This I think is why I hate him so much- he deliberately miseducates his audience. He knows what he's doing is factually inaccurate, he just doesn't care because attention means more to him than anything else in the world.

Let's change that! Here are two really important lessons for understanding alligator body language on social media.

Lesson 1: Alligators Don't Smile (in fact, most animals don't)

So what's going on in this video? Jay Brewer is aggressively choking his white alligator Coconut while scrubbing algae off of her with a toothbrush. And make no mistake, he is digging into the creature's throat while she is visibly distressed. He claims she's happy- but she's not. He is willfully misrepresenting what this animal is feeling. That's a problem, because people... well, we actually kind of suck at reading other species' body language. The reason for this is that we tend to overlay our own responses on their physical cues, and that's a problem. For example, let's look at an animal with a really similar face to ours, the chimpanzee. Check out Ama's toothy grin!

Wait, no. That's not a happy smile. That's a threat display. When a chimpanzee "smiles," it's either terrified and doing a fear grimace, or it's showing you its teeth because it intends on using them in your face.

How about a dog? Look at my smiling, happy puppy!

Oh wait no, this is a picture of Ryder when he was super overwhelmed by noise and people during a holiday party. He'd hopped up in my sister's lap to get away from stuff that was happening on the floor and was panting quite heavily. See the tension in the corners of his mouth and his eyes? A lot of the time when a dog "smiles," the smile isn't happy. It's stress! Why Animals Do The Thing has a nice writeup about that, but the point is, our body language is not the same as other species. And for reptiles, body language is wildly different.

For instance, look at these two alligators. Pretty cute, right? Look at 'em, they're posing for a Christmas card or something! How do you think they're feeling?

Well, I'll tell you how the normal one is feeling. He's annoyed! Why is he annoyed? Because the albino just rolled up, pushed another gator off the platform, and is trying to push this guy, too. I know this because I actually saw it happen. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie. He's not gaping all the way, but he was hissing- you can actually see him getting annoyed in the sequence I took right before this shot. Look at him in this first shot here- he's just relaxing, and you can see he isn't gaping even a little bit.

By the end, he's expressing displeasure, but not enough to actually do anything about it. He's annoyed, but he's comfy and that's where one of the best basking areas is, so he'll put up with it.

Reptiles open their mouths wide for a lot of reasons, but never because they are actively enjoying a sensation. Unless they're eating. No reptile smiles- they can't. They don't even have moveable lips. If a reptile is gaping, it's doing so because:

It is doing a threat display.

It is making certain vocalizations, all of which are threats. Alligators are one of the rare reptiles that do regularly vocalize, but most of their calls aren't made with a wide open mouth.

It is about to bite something delicious or somebody stupid. Check out this video- virtually all of the gaping here is anticipatory because these trained gators know darn well that the bowl is full of delicious snacks. (I have some issues with Florida's Wildest, but the man knows how to train a gator AND he is honest about explaining what they're doing and why, and all of his animals are healthy and well-cared for, and he doesn't put the public or his staff at risk- just himself.)

It's too hot and it has opened its mouth to vent some of that heat and thermoregulate. This is the main reason why alligators will often have their mouths part of the way open, but sometimes they'll open all the way for thermoregulation. This is what a thermoregulatory gape looks like- usually it's not all the way open, kinda more like < rather than V, but you can't say that 100% of the time. Additionally, a thermoregulatory gape... typically happens when it's hot out. If they're inside, maybe they've been under their basking light for too long. Heat's the dominant factor, is what I'm getting at.

There is another reason that a captive crocodilian might be gaping, and that's because it's doing so on command. Some places have their gators trained to gape on cue, like St. Augustine Alligator Farm and other good zoos. They have the animals do this in presentations that are genuinely educational. They ask the animals to open their mouths so that they can show off their teeth and demonstrate how their tongues seal off the back of their mouth. They'll also do it as part of routine healthcare, because looking at their teeth is important.

In this case, the animals aren't gaping because they're stressed, they're gaping because they know they're gonna get a piece of chicken or fish if they do it. And what's more, they're doing it on cue. They have a specific command or signal that tells them to open wide. It's not an instinctive response to a situation. It's trained. If the animal provides the behavior after a cue, the situation is much less likely to be negatively impactful.

It's also important to remember that there's a difference between a partially open mouth and a gape! As discussed above, alligators will often have their mouths a little bit open just to maintain temperature homeostasis. It helps them stay comfy, temperature-wise. These guys are all doing thermoregulatory open-mouthed behavior- that slight open and relaxed body posture is a dead giveaway. (That and it's the hottest spot in the enclosure.)

Lesson 2: A Happy Gator Is A Chill Gator

So if alligators don't smile or have facial expressions other than the :V that typically signifies distress, how else can you tell how they're feeling? One way is stillness. See, alligators subscribe to the philosophy of if it sucks... hit da bricks.

Basically, if they hate it, they'll leave. Unless, y'know, somebody has their meaty claws digging into their throat or is otherwise restraining them. (Restraint isn't always bad, btw. Sometimes the animal is going through a medical thing or needs to be restrained for their safety- which a responsible educator will explain.)

Let's look at a very similar scenario, in which a captive alligator is getting his back scrubbed.

As you can see, it's quite different. First, he's not being restrained at all. Second, look at how relaxed he is! He's just chilling there vibing! He could simply get up and leave if he wanted to, because he's not being held. Towards the end of the video, as he lifts his head, you can see that his respiratory rate is very even as his throat flutters a bit. I'm not sure what this facility is, so I can't comment on care/general ethics, but like. In this specific case, this is an alligator enjoying being scrubbed! And you can tell because he's not doing anything. A happy gator is content to be doing what they're doing.

Why Should I Listen To You?

Now, you should ask yourself, why should you listen to me? Why should you trust me, who does not own an alligator, versus Jay Brewer, who owns several?

Well, first off, there's no profit for me in telling you that what you're seeing on social media is in fact not what you're being told you're seeing. I'm not getting paid to do this. That's the thing with people who make social media content. The big names aren't doing it just for fun. They're doing it for money. Whether that's profit through partnerships or sponsorships, or getting more people to visit their facilities, or ad revenue, you can't ignore the factor of money. And this is NOT a bad thing, because it allows educators to do what they're passionate about! People deserve to be paid for the work that they do!

But the problem starts when you chase the algorithm instead of actually educating. A "smiling" alligator gets the views, and if people don't know enough to know better, it keeps getting the views. People love unconventional animal stories and they want those animals to be happy- but the inability to even know where to start with critically evaluating these posts really hinders the ability to spread real information. Like, this post will probably get a couple hundred notes, but that video of Coconut being scrubbed had almost 400,000 likes when I took that screenshot. Think about how many eyeballs that's reached by now. What I'm saying here is that it's just... really important to think critically about who you're getting your information from. What do dissenters say in the comments? What do other professionals say? You won't find a single herpetologist that has anything good to say about Prehistoric Pets, I can tell you that right now.

Another reason you can trust me is that my sources are not "just trust me bro," or "years of experience pretending my pet shop where animals come to die is a real zoo." Instead, here are my primary sources for my information on alligator behavior:

Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations- Vladimir Dinets

The Secret Social Lives of Reptiles- J. Sean Doody, Vladimir Dinets, Gordon M. Burghardt

Social Behavior Deficiencies in Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Z Walsh, H Olson, M Clendening, A Rycyk

Social Displays of the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis)- Kent Vliet

Social Signals and Behaviors of Adult Alligators and Crocodiles- Leslie Garrick, Jeffery Lang

Never smile at a crocodile: Gaping behaviour in the Nile crocodile at Ndumo Game Reserve, South Africa- Cormac Price, Mohamed Ezat, Céline Hanzen, Colleen Downs (this one's Nile crocs, not American alligators, but it's really useful for modeling an understanding of gape behaviors and proximity)

Thermoregulatory Behavior of Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Cheryl S. Asa, Gary D. London, Ronald R. Goellner, Norman Haskell, Glenn Roberts, Crispen Wilson

Unprovoked Mouth Gaping Behavior in Extant Crocodylia- Noah J. Carl, Heather A. Stewart, Jenny S. Paul

Thank you for reading! Here's a very happy wild alligator from Sanibel for your trouble.

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

[gyuswhore]

Sit Down

anniversary event [closed]

kim mingyu x reader

prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you

synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.

It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.

And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.

[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!

masterlist

The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl. 

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. ��Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 

“What are you—” 

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

 “I love you,” he yells. 

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 

“Mingyu!” 

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

dinner prep engagement ♡

a/n : aaaand its finally here, the final part of the ring pop proposal miniseries after decades !!!! im sorry it took me so long to write this final part yall, i just finally felt enough inspo to write it and im super happy w how it came out ! i hope yall do too ! lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist ! much luv xx

fem reader, literally pure fluff between mama n son, katsuki gets emotional very quickly bc i believe he does and you cannot make me think otherwise, a lil emotional but pure sweetness, mentions of making dinner, lmk if i missed sum else !!

this time, mitsuki has no idea what her son is planning. sure she’s had her hopes for years now, and her suspicions, but nothing truly concrete.

that is, until she gets a call in the middle of the night.

"katsuki..hello ?" she answers groggily, heaving a sigh and rubbing at her eyes. she checks next to her to make sure she hasn't woken her husband up, her eyes dart over to her digital clock " 'ts one in the morning."

"uh..hey." her son's gruff voice sounds over the phone, she raises a brow at his hesitant tone of voice, but she let's him continue "yeah, i know. sorry.." he mumbles out.

the older woman shakes her head affectionately "it's fine..is there something you wanted to talk about ?"

it's silent on the other end for a while until katsuki mumbles something. "katsuki, you know i can't hear you if you don't speak up." she scolds lightly, causing him to growl under his breath.

"not..not right now, no--just..can i come over tomorrow ?"

taking in her silence for hesitance he continues " it's nothin' bad..i just--feel like it's something i needa say face to face, i guess.."

"okay..yeah, of course. you know you can come over whenever you want." she urges "is yn comin' along ?"

"no, she isn't." she can practically hear his eye roll and it makes her smirk "she'll be busy tomorrow anyway so, not this time. i'll tell her you said hello though, since you're always tellin' me to."

she's about to retort when katsuki speaks again, only not to her. she hears what she knows is your voice quietly chatting with him as he reassures you that he'll be right there with you and for you to go back to bed. the soft tone in his voice makes her eyes soften.

never could she ever have imagined her katsuki ever speaking so softly to anyone, because her katsuki is, despite having calmed down over the years, still quite the brat. (she's pretty sure she knows where he gets it from now..) he's still temperamental when interviewers and journalists get on his nerves. he's still awfully moody , but he's different now. he's just a little bit gentler with the way he handles kids or older women who's cats have gotten stuck in trees. complaining that this isn't his damn job but still doing it anyway with utmost care as the kitties sink their sharp claws into his skin or cling to him for warmth.

he's a still a little rough around the edges but it's the thought that counts. he's different than when he was younger, but he still is the most different with you. his rough and gruff voice that he uses to bark out orders and complain, complain, complain, he uses so softly around you, keeping you as calm and sleepy as possible. it's not perfect, but he manages to usher you back to your room to sleep, and that makes the thought count so much more.

"m'gonna go now." he warns, his mother hums in agreement, telling him she'll see him tomorrow and he reciprocates the goodbye.

"night, ma."

"night, kiddo." she grins, a happy sigh leaving her when she hangs up the call and lays back down. cozying herself up next to her husband.

she's had her suspicions and her hopes for a while now, but she can't be too sure what her son could possibly want from her tomorrow.

katsuki comes back home like he's never left.

the day goes like any other day would've went a few years ago when he was still living in the family home. mitsuki almost expects her son to run off upstairs to do his homework.

he greets his dad with a half hug, and is forced into a tight embrace by his mother, which he grumbles about. grumbles turning into a growl when she grips his cheek, scolding him for not greeting his mother properly.

it's a lot of catching up from the few months he's been busy with hero work. talking about his latests achievements and his quick climbing of the hero ranks, accompanied with barely suppressed smiles and softened eyes when you're brought up. mitsuki remembers how nervous he'd been when he'd told her he was planning on asking you to move in with him, so she's happy to hear from the both of you, since she has your number and you like to catch up every now and then, that everything was going well. though she already knew it would.

katsuki volunteered to help with dinner, his mother happily agreeing saying she could use some help. it makes her a little bit nostalgic and she wills herself not to get teary eyed at how much her son has grown.

but she sees that the opportunity has presented itself to bring up the topic that's been on the tip of her tongue the entire day now.

"so.." she sings "you wanted to talk about something, right ?"

katsuki stiffens like he'd forgotten, although his expression stays the same besides the slight squint of his eyes. the rhythmic cutting of vegetables has stopped and it takes him a moment before he speaks quietly like he's revealing a secret.

"i wanna ask yn to marry me."

oh.

so that was it.

"oh." she breathes immediately. a broad smile slowly grows onto her face and she beams "took you long enough, ya brat !" she exclaims, slapping her sons muscular arm. he growls lowly at her, leaning away from her though she remains undeterred. poking at his sides while he tries to smack her hands away.

finally, she relents "when are you gonna ask ?" she asks excitedly. katsuki huffs, eyebrows still heavily furrowed from her earlier attack. he turns back to the cutting board "soon. i arranged my schedule and we'll both be free, so in two weeks from now."

"you already have a ring ?"

he grunts in agreement. and mitsuki besides being proud of the fact her hunch was right, feels her heart warms at the burst of nostalgia of her little boy. her katsuki, kicking his feet in the backseat of her car. tightly gripping his bag of ring pop candies he'd give to you the next day. her little katsuki, who'd proudly claimed he was going to marry you when he grew up in that very same car, exclaiming that he'd proposed to you with those very same candies he'd almost had a tantrum over her not getting.

her little boy, who'd gotten oh so big, and so, so much more enamoured with you.

"good." she utters sweetly, voice just a bit wobbly "good. that's great, katsuki."

he nods to himself " i've thought about it for a while now..long while." he scoffs to himself, eyes focused on the cutting board in front of him. "got the whole day planned out too."

"yeah ?" he nods. her eyes soften as he speaks mostly to himself, he's had this little self hype up habit ever since he was a boy. trying to calm himself down and reassure himself. it's a smart move, but as strong and mature as he is, katsuki is nothing more than human. and anxieties can creep up on the best of us.

she's seen it before, and she sees it again when he bites his bottom lip in thought, and she smiles softly.

and again, she coaxes him into it " that sounds nice, looks like you got it all planned out, huh?"

and he nods again. but it doesn't take him, long before he breaks.

"..what if she says no ?"

and mitsuki wants to laugh. she really does, because the thought of you ever saying no to him sounds absolutely ridiculous to her. she snorts. shaking her head while her son looks at her incredulously.

"katsuki.." she tuts, chuckling to herself before she looks up at him. "you've got absolutely nothing to worry about. you've got it."

his eyes widen, then her son's expression drops as he raises a brow "how do you know that ?" his words make her smile widen this much more and she really wants to laugh.

how does she know. she scoffs

she knows because she knows him. she knows her katsuki better than anyone else, he's her son. she knows he's rude, rowdy, quipy, temperamental and everything else. he's all of that and so much more.

and yet you still love him. you're still so incredibly patient with him, you still offer him all of your kindness despite him once confessing to her he doesn't understand how you do. despite all of the times he's messed up, the times he's fallen down, you stay by his side you care for him, you care about him.

she knows her katsuki is absolutely infatuated with you, he always has been. from tantrums about being separated in class and knowing your favourite ice cream flavour to him being overly protective over you when you were paired up with your lab partner that ended up not being him and to him wearing the stupid stuffy tux mitsuki tailor made for him to take you to prom.

you've always been his number one best friend, but he's always been yours as well : he loves you, but you love him just as much.

and so mitsuki smiles "call it mother's intuition. and, not to brag, but i think most of my hunches have been right by now" and it widens when katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes at her boasting, another bratty little habit he has that he's practically mastered over the years. she sighs, spreading her arms out towards him "well come over here. you've gone and gotten so damn tall, i can't reach you myself !" her son rolls his eyes again, but he scoffs softly to himself and with a shake of his head, he closes the distance and hunches over to hug his mother. she wraps her arms around him tightly and he grumbles when she squeezes but he doesn't try to get away.

"there's nothing for you to worry about, katsuki. absolutely nothing." she repeats, rubbing his back. "you love each other, and that's more than enough. just be yourself, it's been working out for you this far..somehow." she jests. katsuki scoffs indignantly but they both end up chuckling about it. after a few more seconds they pull away and mitsuki pats her son's chest with a sniffle. right on top of his heart that she knows, she's seen, has gone through oh so much.

but still remained entirely yours throughout all the years and still so so so enamoured with you.

gripping onto his shoulders, she whispers "you got this." the glossiness in his eyes is impossible to miss, he's always cried very easily. but she guesses she mirrors his expression exactly. her son is the spitting image of her after all. she places a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

"thanks, ma" he whispers sincerely. and mitsuki feels her heart soar.

"any time."

during dinner, katsuki announces the news to his father. who after getting over his shock immediately wraps his son into a hug. congratulating him and encouraging him with teary eyes, she knows where katsuki gets that from, before they all settle down to have dinner before katsuki leaves a few hours later. waving off his mother's insistence to pass you a greeting with a grumbled acknowledgement.

she shakes her head as her and her husband watch him drive off but her heart is full of pride.

"we raised a killer son didn't we ?" she giggles looking back at masaru, who agrees with a smile as they share a laugh.

and the next time you both come over, you're giddy. unable to keep your excitement in check as you keep excitedly looking back at katsuki, who finally relents with an affectionate sigh and you happily show off you're ringed finger with a squeal.

mitsuki squeals right back, wrapping you up in the tightest bear hug she could. masaru takes his turn hugging you, sweetly congratulating you both. of course, they'll tell you they both new in advance, but that was all for later.

sure, she didn't know what her son was planning in advance, but she had her hunches and her funny feeling from all those years ago that you'd be sticking around. she guesses it's good enough that she was the first to be told.

she sends her son a proud and teasing smile when they make eye contact. he rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face doesn't fade as he watches you talk with his father. she doesn't have to say a single word for him to know what she's saying.

i told you so.

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