#i love to see how an idea evolves over the course of writing it! it fascinates me

[red-flagging]

ϟ tell me what moment/scene in [fic] made you sicko in the window.jpg to read and i’ll tell you which scene made me feel that way to write

For ME my sicko in the window moment in made a hundred good stories was Lewis cockwarming Alex so lewis could fuck him again… GOD Alex did not know what what he was in the middle of

(fic ask meme!)

THANK YOU 😭😭😭 genuinely coming up with that scene was what tipped me over from "maybe i'll play around with this idea and see what happens" to "oh no now i have to finish this." like i literally looked back at my first brainstorming doc and there's a bullet point that says "engine failures, tire blowouts, coming too early - the body as machine" that's bolded and underlined lmao like. apparently 1-year-ago-me also felt insane sicko in the window about the whole thing too

in the interest of giving a different answer though i will say that i did feel crazy while writing all the little seb/lewis moments during the threesome (special shoutout to seb fingering lewis while he cockwarms and also ofc lewis's mini breakdown before he sucks seb off lol). i LOVE outsider pov especially for a relationship like this with so much history where you can pick and choose little details that never actually explicitly say anything, but are so clearly dancing around the edges of something that it becomes very obvious what the shape of the thing they're not saying is.

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (emotional abuse from naoya but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical)

ꨄ words: 10.5k

ꨄ a/n. hello my mhm lovelies :') i've missed writing this fic dearly! please note, this is not chapter 7—however, i will be releasing ch 7 this month. this is just a fun little side chapter with some family domesticity for the autumn season. taking place sometime after reader/satoru become official. ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎

ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness

As the crisp autumn air has arrived, it brings with it a feeling of change—and perhaps nature itself is subtly acknowledging just how much your life has shifted.

It’s baffling. Your time in the Gojo estate has been nothing short of eventful—and it feels like just yesterday you stood in front of Satoru, proposing an arrangement that was as unexpected as it was necessary. But now, with the leaves turning a fiery shade of red, orange, and gold, you realize just how quietly and quickly fall has crept in.

And with all this change, your relationship with Satoru has begun to reshape as well—a new chapter, freshly inked. No secrets, no acts—just the three of you, finding your footing in this new arrangement you’ve embarked on.

But one thing hasn’t changed—Satoru simply can’t say no to Haru.

It’s something that’s too cute for its own good—watching him wrapped around her small little finger, treating her like the princess she is. Ahh…but it’s even cuter how he tries to hide it. Satoru has a heart of gold, and though he may use his wit and charm as a mask, you’ve come to see through most of his tricks now—especially when it involves Haru.

And Haru? Well, lately she has really started to become attached to Satoru—in ways that even surprise you. Everything has been ‘toru this - ‘toru that. The trouble with it? Well... ’toru doesn’t have all the experience of handling a kid, let alone a two-year-old. But day by day, he is learning.

Fall is Haru’s favorite season, ironic given her name translates to “spring.” She adores everything about it—the cool, crisp air that calls for cuddles and cozy sweaters, the cinnamon pumpkin treats that have become a staple in the kitchen, and the magic of “spooky season,” as she calls it.

The latest item on her list? A trip to the pumpkin patch.

The idea had come up over breakfast, as you sipped your chai and watched Haru list off her autumn plans with boundless enthusiasm. The moment she had flashed those wide, hopeful eyes at you both, of course Satoru offered to take her—he stepped in immediately and you’d been surprised but delighted by the offer.

And now, you’re embarking on this journey together—off to the pumpkin patch. You head down the stairs of the Gojo’s estate with Haru’s little hand nestled in yours—chattering excitedly about all the things she wants to do and see at the pumpkin patch.

“Let’s find a big pumpkin, Mama! I wanna pet the animals!”

You smile, nodding along, but as you reach the end of the stairs, glancing into the foyer, you’re greeted by a sight entirely unexpected.

Satoru leans casually against the banister, scrolling through his phone, but he’s dressed down in a way you’ve never seen. Gone are his usual tailored suits and designer dress shoes—instead, he’s wearing an oversized hoodie, a pair of well-worn jeans, and, most surprisingly, a black beanie snug over his white hair. The only familiar accessory he wears is that pair of round, dark sunglasses resting upon the bridge of his nose.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, he glances up from his phone, grinning.

“Well, look at you, Mr. Gojo,” you smirk, stepping closer. “You almost look…normal.”

A low hum rumbles from his chest as he takes off his sunglasses for a moment, letting you catch sight of that familiar twinkle in his eyes.

“Almost?” he feigns offense, pushing off from the banister. “Aw man, that’s disappointing, considering that this,” he gestures at his outfit, “is premium low-profile attire.”

You snort, reaching up to playfully tug on one of the strings of his hoodie.

“I didn’t realize you had a whole ‘undercover’ look ready to go.”

“Well… yeah,” he leans forward and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Life of a celebrity, sweetheart. Last thing we need is the pumpkin paparazzi swarming us. I’d rather they didn’t ruin Haru’s big day out.”

His words make you pause, a gentle warmth filling your chest at his thoughtfulness—but before you can respond, a tiny voice chimes in.

“‘toru, you look like a spy!” Haru’s small hand grips the fabric of his jeans, her face alight with excitement as she gazes up at him.

Satoru chuckles, turning his attention fully to her. As he crouches down to meet her gaze, his own expression softens.

“A spy, huh? You’re onto something princess.” He gently ruffles her hair. “Alright… here’s the deal. You can be my sidekick, but only if you keep my secret.” He puts a finger to his lips, and whispers. “No one can know who I really am. It’ll be our secret mission.”

“Secret! I won’t tell,” she whispers with utmost seriousness, and her eyes beam with the thrill of this imaginary game he’s now given her.

“Good,” he murmurs, tapping her nose lightly, “I knew I could trust ya, kiddo,” and as he shoots her a wink, she dissolves into a fit of giggles.

You watch them from a few steps away, leaning back against the banister with your arms crossed—a soft smile tugging at your lips. There’s something endearing, almost mesmerizing, about the way Satoru allows himself to be swept up in Haru’s world, and you’re incredibly impressed at how seamlessly he’s growing into this role—this new chapter of his life, and yours. As you catch glimpses of the man he’s becoming, these small, unguarded moments bring forth a version of Satoru that feels both familiar and entirely new.

Just then, Satoru glances up and catches you watching him with that uncharacteristically soft expression. His gaze narrows playfully, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his lips as he stands.

“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”

Your smile softens, and the words that leave your lips slip out before you even realize it.

“Who knew dad vibes could look this good on you?”

Ah, fuck. The second the words leave your lips; you feel a heat rushing to your cheeks—you’ve spoken without thinking, letting your admiration for him slip out in a way that feels a little too honest—more vulnerable than you intended—giving him a title—that title. You’re still getting used to this… this new, real relationship that you and Satoru share, and moments like this catch you off guard.

Satoru’s reaction is immediate; his eyes widen in surprise, and for a heartbeat, he simply blinks at you, processing what you’ve said. Flustered, you bite your lip—your gaze darting away for a moment as the heat in your face intensifies. There is no hiding the delicate pink painting your cheeks.

But then, his surprise melts into a grin—a slow, pleased smile that lights up his entire face, stretching into a smirk that’s all too self-satisfied.

“Oh?” his voice drips with amusement. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ‘dad vibes.’”

Stepping forward, he tilts his head—studying you with a newfound intensity, and it becomes very clear that he’s relishing in your flustered reaction.

Ugh. You don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed in his response. Clearing your throat, you try to salvage a bit of dignity.

“I, uh… I just mean, y’know… you’re getting the hang of this,” you mumble.

You should know better—that playful glint in Satoru’s eyes tells you he’s not letting you off the hook. His eyes beam with mischief as he leans in close, and you desperately try to advert your gaze.

“Oh, no, no, no. Don’t backtrack now,” he smirks, turning your face to meet him.

The warmth in your cheeks intensifies under his gaze, and his fingers linger, brushing tenderly against your chin. Your breath catches the moment he moves in closer—lips ghosting just over yours.

“I think I could get used to is this kind of flattery…”

You suck in a breath and playfully roll your eyes. “The last thing you need is an ego boost. Don’t get too used to it…”

“Too late,” he whispers back.

Before you can say anything else, a small, impatient voice breaks the moment.

“Mama, ‘toru! Let’s gooo! Pumpkins!” she pouts.

You both blink, snapping out of the moment as you glance down at Haru, who’s now tugging on your hands with eager impatience.

She’s not about to let her pumpkin adventure be delayed by your moment.

“Alright, alright, princess, we’re going,” Satoru chuckles, ruffling her hair playfully. “Besides, I’m not the only one going incognito today.”

Turning towards a nearby table, he reaches for a small shopping bag you hadn’t noticed before, and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity as he holds the bag out to you with a smirk. The moment the bag is settled in your hands, you immediately open it—revealing your own matching beanie, followed by a pair of sleek designer sunglasses.

“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”

“Ah, of course,” you muse, grinning at you pull your disguise out of the shopping bag. “Didn’t realize we were going full ‘spy mode’ for this outing.”

Satoru chuckles, but his eyes soften as he watches you slip the beanie over your head and position the sunglasses on the bridge of your nose with a flourish.

“How do I look?” you pose playfully.

“Like the perfect accomplice,” he declares with a grin. “No one will suspect a thing.”

Haru’s face lights up and she claps her hands in excitement.

“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.

The thrill in her voice pulls a laugh from both you and Satoru—she’s completely swept up in this game. Satoru mirrors after you—slipping on his own sunglasses with an exaggerated flourish as he flashes Haru a mischievous grin. He shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket and whispers conspiratorially—as though letting her in on a top-secret plan.

“That’s right, kiddo. It’s a full family mission.”

Haru’s eyes beam with childlike wonder as she nods—putting her finger to her lips again—mimicking his serious expression. Suddenly, Satoru pulls out a set of keys from his hoodie pocket and begins dangling them in front of you with a grin. The silver glints in the sunlight as he places them in your hand.

“C’mon, you’re driving today,” he says with an easy nonchalance.

It takes a moment for you to register that it’s your keys he had set in your hand, and you blink down at them for a moment while he steps towards the door. It’s been so long since you’ve driven your own car that it feels oddly unfamiliar—like a relic from another life.

“Oh, uh… yeah, sure,” you stammer, still caught off guard as you follow him out the door, with Haru skipping beside you—a cascade of excitement as she babbles about today’s adventure.

Once you step outside, your gaze lands on your car waiting in the driveway—a dark blue sedan with a soft, understated shine—a small piece of normalcy you’d left behind in the wake of Gojo's luxury.  It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s always been reliable.

Driving out of the Gojo estate… in your car? It’s a strange, almost surreal concept after all the chauffeured cars and limos that have now oddly become routine. A rush of familiarity surges through you—remembering the simpler times, a glimpse of the life that once belonged solely to you.

While you’re lost down memory lane, Satoru strolls toward the passenger side. He pauses, glancing back to find you standing there—keys in hand, a touch of nostalgia softening you features. His signature smirk settles into place as he leans casually against the passenger door and muses.

“What’s the matter? Afraid you’ve forgotten how to drive? Or…” his eyes narrow with playful mischief as he raises an eyebrow, “are you too fancy to drive your own car now, Mrs. Gojo?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes before striding over to the rear passenger door, where Haru waits—her small fingers clutching the edge eagerly.

“Says the one who never drives,” you shoot back, grinning as you pull open the door. “Mr. ‘Passenger Princess.’”

Your comment earns you a dramatic huff as he places a hand over his chest—pretending to be affronted—though the grin curling upon his lip tells you he’s anything but offended.

“Excuuuse me, but this ‘passenger princess’ comes with premium commentary and a charming smile. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have this level of company in the front seat.”

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes again as you reach down to lift Haru into the car.

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.

But just as you begin to settle Haru into her car seat, her demeanor shifts—before you know it, she’s twisting in your arms, pressing her hands against your shoulders, all while her little brows draw together in a determined pout.

“No, Mama!” she wriggles free—scurrying down to plant her feet on the ground. You blink the moment she crosses her arms and defiantly declares, “I want ‘toru to do it!”

The request takes you off guard, and you find yourself momentarily speechless. Uhhh… come to think of it, does Satoru even know how to strap a toddler into a car seat? You glance over at him, and he looks equally thrown off—an uncertain smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

You can practically see his internal debate unfolding—he subtly glances between you and Haru—clearly flattered but just as visibly out of his depth.

Oh, Haru. She absolutely adores him—and while Satoru isn’t exactly resisting the role she’s suddenly assigned him, you know first-hand that he’s pretty much clueless with toddler basics. Car seats and sippy cups? Yeah… not exactly his area of expertise.

With a sigh, you kneel beside Haru—a gentle smile on your lips.

“Haru, honey… Satoru doesn’t exactly—"

Satoru clears his throat.

“—uh… sure, I can do it,” he straightens, pushing himself off the side of the car with a nonchalant shrug as he gives you a small, uncertain grin. “How hard can it be?”

A giggle breaks from Haru’s lips as he swoops her up, and her little arms wrap around his neck with delight—but Satoru’s eyes narrow at the car seat like it’s some sort of complex machinery he’s about to dismantle. Oh… this is gonna be good.

He carefully lowers her into the seat, and his brows furrow with intense focus as his fingers begin to slip over the unfamiliar buckles.

“Alright… this goes here… or does it?” he mutters.

Biting back a smile, you marvel at how determined yet adorably out of his element he is—untangling the straps. But as you watch him struggle, you are suddenly struck with the realization of how different this moment feels from anything you have ever experienced in the past.

Naoya? He would never have humored Haru’s whims, let alone spent time trying to puzzle out something as simple (yet surprisingly complicated) as a car seat. No—it was easier for him to hand off the messy tasks of parenting.

But Satoru? Here he was, eyebrows knitted in stubborn determination—refusing to give up on this minor challenge, simply because Haru had asked him to. Each small stumble, each adjustment he makes, only seems to fuel his resolve to get it right.

After a few moments, a sigh of mild frustration escapes him, and he pauses, staring at the tangled straps in front of him in defeat. Finally, glancing over his shoulder, he casts you a sheepish look that’s so uncharacteristically vulnerable it melts you.

“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”

Oh, he’s too cute. He’s trying so hard, and something about it makes you want to lean in and kiss him, just for being so completely, irresistibly endearing.

Stepping forward, you smile softly, inspecting his work with a practiced eye.

“You’re doing great,” you assure him warmly, reaching out to gently adjust the chest clip. “But you’ll want to raise this a little higher—it should be level with her armpits, and maybe tighten it a bit more.”

His eyes focus closely on your hands as you gently guide him through the adjustments, and he nods—carefully stepping back in to finish the task with a newfound confidence.

“Okay, got it.”

Your slight encouragement seems to have spurred his fingers to move more purposefully now. Tightening the strap, he gives it a final tug to check the tension, and with a small huff of triumph, a wide grin spreads across his face as he leans back—admiring his handiwork.

“There,” he announces, sounding both relieved and just a little proud. “One secure kiddo.”

Haru beams up at him, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“Good job, ‘toru!” her voice is filled with an adorable pride, as though she’s the one teaching him.

“Anything for you, princess,” he chuckles, gently closing her door and casting her one last fond look through the window. Then, with an easy stride, he slips into the passenger seat beside you, settling in with an air of satisfaction.

“All right, you two,” you exhale, securing your seatbelt with a satisfying click. “Let’s hit the road, shall we?”

After securing his own seatbelt, Satoru’s eyes flicker to yours with playful adoration. He leans back with a contented sigh.

“Yup. And with you behind the wheel, I get the best view in the car,” winking playfully, his trademark smirk appears as he adds, “Ready when you are, Madam Chauffeur.”

ꨄ︎

The pumpkin patch sprawls before you like a painted autumn wonderland. Rows upon rows of pumpkins in every imaginable shape and size dot the field—their bright orange hues glowing under the soft, golden light of the afternoon sun. Rustic wooden signs swing gently in the breeze, directing families to activities like hay rides, corn mazes, and a “Pumpkin Painting Station.” You’re welcomed with the earthy scent of fallen leaves, mingling with the sweetness of spiced donuts and apple cider—a warm nostalgic embrace of autumn.

Nearby, children dart between the pumpkins, shrieking with laughter as they kick up leaves. Parents snap photos, their laughter joining the symphony of crunching footsteps and cheerful voices. You glance at Satoru, who’s paused just past the entrance—his gaze sweeping across the scene with a mixture of awe and slight bewilderment. There’s a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, like he’s trying to take in every detail of this unfamiliar world.

“Well?” you ask, nudging him gently with a smile. “What do you think?”

He shrugs, flashing a lopsided grin as he meets your gaze.

“Honestly? I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something a little more… contained?” his eyes flick to a group of kids who’ve just toppled over in a pile of leaves—sending a cloud of autumn colors flying around them.

“Contained?” you echo, a smirk crossing your face. “Satoru, it’s a pumpkin patch, not a black-tie event. Consider it an adventure in rural living.”

He lets out a low chuckle, and his usual confidence is softened by a rare, boyish charm.

“Mmm... well I guess I’m overdue for an adventure like this,” his gaze drifts over the rows of pumpkins—families bundled in scarves and jackets as the haze of afternoon sunlight filters through the trees. His tone dips into something warm, almost tender. “Hard to believe, but I’ve never actually been to one of these before.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.

“Nah... let’s just say pumpkin patches aren’t exactly a Gojo family tradition…” he chuckles softly, but there’s a bit of sadness coloring his voice as he scratches the back of his head. “I guess most of my autumns were spent in places a bit… less pumpkin-filled.”

His unguarded honesty tugs at something deep within you. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, just how much of a different world he comes from—how even the smallest traditions, like visiting a pumpkin patch, might’ve been out of reach for him.

Without a second thought, you reach over, sliding your hand into his, your fingers curling around his in a gentle squeeze. He looks down, surprise flashing in his eyes, before his expression softens as he meets your gaze.

“There’s a first time for everything,” you murmur softly. “And… now you’ve got Haru and me to show you how it’s done. We’re practically pumpkin patch experts.”

A soft smile breaks across his face, and for a moment, he looks like he’s letting down a guard you hadn’t even realized was there.

“I couldn’t ask for better teachers,” he squeezes your hand back.

Just then, a delighted gasp breaks the stillness as Haru tugs excitedly on Satoru’s hand—her eyes are wide and shining with wonder as she points to a patch of particularly large pumpkins.

“Look, ‘toru! Big ones!” she practically bounces with energy. “Let’s go! Pleeease?”

Satoru’s expression softens even further as he glances from you to Haru, and with a small laugh, he nods—allowing himself to be pulled forward by her tiny but insistent hand.

“Alright, alright, lead the way, pumpkin expert,” he says, casting a quick, affectionate glance back at you—and your heart swells from the way his eyes twinkle with amusement, and maybe, just a hint of gratitude.

ꨄ︎

“This one?” Satoru asks, holding up a pumpkin with a proud grin.

“No!” Haru exclaims immediately, her face scrunched up in disapproval. “Too skinny.”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, giving the pumpkin an exaggerated, doubtful look.

“Too skinny, huh?” setting it down with a sigh, he brushes off his hands—back to square one. “Alright, let’s keep looking.”

He takes a few steps, scanning the rows, and his gaze falls on another pumpkin—rounder this time, but with a bit of a tilt to one side. He bends down to pick it up, then holds it out with a contemplative look.

“Hmm… how about this one? Good color, nice and round—”

“Nope!” Haru cuts him off, shaking her head with a serious frown. “It’s bumpy.”

Satoru sighs—a huff of a chuckle. He places the pumpkin back down with mock solemnity.

“Alright, alright. No bumps, no skinniness. Got it.”

Glancing back, he casts you a quick look—an amused twinkle in his eye as he mouths, she’s tough. Stifling a laugh, you sit back on a nearby hay bale, watching their search unfold with growing amusement. Haru’s standards have always been impressively high, and Satoru, is finally getting a taste of that.

As they wander a little farther down the row, Satoru’s gaze lands on another contender—a medium-sized pumpkin with a perfectly round shape and a smooth surface. Crouching down beside it, he inspects it with all the seriousness of a seasoned pumpkin picker, then holds it out, giving Haru a hopeful look.

“This one? Look, it’s perfectly round and no bumps in sight.”

Haru narrows her eyes, stepping forward and scrutinizing the pumpkin with an intensity that belies her age. A tiny, dramatic sigh escapes her as she shakes her head in disapproval.

“No, it’s not orange enough. Has to be super orange!”

“Super orange,” he echoes with a dramatic nod. “Of course. What was I thinking?” He places it back with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he searches the rows—clearly determined not to give up.

Biting back a smile, you watch him crouch beside her yet again, leaning in close to match her intense expression. Then, he picks up another pumpkin and holds it out in front of her, trying to contain his hope.

“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.

Haru barely spares a second glance.

“Nope! The stem is too small.”

With a defeated sigh, Satoru watches as she continues her search, undeterred and unbothered by his less-than-stellar picks. After a moment, he walks back over to you and plops down on the hay bale—his shoulders slumping in mock exhaustion.

“Is there such a thing as a perfect pumpkin, or am I just doomed to fail here?”

You can’t help but grin—reaching over for his hand. As your fingers intertwine with his, you rest your head gently against his shoulder.

“Oh… I think there’s one out there somewhere,” you murmur, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t give up now, Mr. Gojo. Just think of this as your first lesson in pumpkin-picking perseverance.”

A soft chuckle rumbles through his chest—low and warm.

“Perseverance, huh?” looking down at your joined hands, his thumb brushes tenderly over your fingers, before his gaze lifts to meet yours—there’s a softness in his eyes, a kind of warmth that feels as comfortable as the autumn sun. “Alright… if you believe in me, I guess I’ll keep trying. But if she shoots down one more pumpkin, I might need a pep talk.”

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

“I’ll be here, ready with all the encouragement you need. This is serious business, y’know.”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but there’s a spark of determination there as he watches Haru continue her search with relentless focus.

“Serious business, huh?” he mutters, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well… far be it from me to let a toddler outdo me.”

Before you can respond, a delighted gasp cuts through the air.

“Mama! ‘toru! I found it!” eyes wide and sparkling, Haru points proudly at a pumpkin nestled snugly in the dirt.

The triumph in her voice makes Satoru’s eyes light up. Standing from the hay bale, his hands nestle into the pockets of his hoodie as he strides towards Haru, with you following closely behind.

“Really now? Let’s take a look at this prize pumpkin.”

Crouching down beside it, Satoru lifts the pumpkin carefully with both hands—as though it’s the crown jewel of the pumpkin patch. His brow furrows with an exaggerated seriousness as he turns it slowly, examining every curve and contour.

“Hmm… yes, I think you’re right,” he declares, voice thoughtful. “This is one smooth, super orange, pumpkin…and just look at that stem!” he taps the pumpkin’s top lightly and flashes Haru a crooked grin. “You’ve got a great eye, kiddo. I’d say you found the best one here.”

Haru’s face lights up with pride.

“Yay!! Look, Mama look!” she beams, her smile stretching from ear to ear—glowing with joy.

Crouching down beside her, you run your hand gently over the pumpkin’s surface. “Wow, sweetie—I love it. It’s absolutely perfect.”

You catch Satoru’s gaze holding yours for a moment—a soft smile stretching across his lips—and then, he reaches down to lift the pumpkin effortlessly—cradling it like a treasure.

“So… do we take it home now? Looks like we’ve got our perfect pumpkin, after all.”

You rise—shaking your head with a grin as you hold up a hand to pause him.

“Not so fast apprentice. You didn’t think we’d leave without experiencing the whole pumpkin patch, did you? C’mon, we’ll bring it up front, but check out later.”

Satoru chuckles, shifting the pumpkin under one arm as he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Guess I shouldn’t rush the experts,” his eyes shift to Haru and his smile softens. “So… what’s next on our agenda, sweetheart?”

ꨄ︎

As the three of you stroll hand in hand through the bustling market stalls, the air is rich with the warm aroma of spiced cider, caramel, and freshly baked treats. Each booth is piled high with autumn delights—jars of golden honey, hand-painted gourds nestled among small pumpkins, and cozy knit scarves draped invitingly over wooden displays.

But Satoru’s attention is instantly captivated by the booth ahead—his eyes brimming in boyish wonder as they land on a display of sweet treats.

“Is that cider? And caramel apples?” he exclaims. “Come on, we have to try these,” and he’s steering you both eagerly towards the booth—like a moth to a flame.

You blink—a little surprised by how openly delighted he is over something so simple. But soon, a warm smile breaks across your face, and you can’t help but chuckle softly while he tugs you along.

“You’re like a kid in a candy store right now.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he flashes you a grin so bright, it feels like a burst of sunlight breaking through the autumn clouds. His enthusiasm is contagious, and before you know it, you’re swept up in his excitement.

He eagerly orders three caramel apples and a steaming cup of cider to share. Then, turning back, he holds the treats up with a triumphant, radiant smile—gleaming with delight. Handing the first one to Haru, you watch as she sinks her small teeth into the sticky treat without hesitation.

“Mmm! Yummy!!” Caramel smears her cheeks, but she looks up at you both, absolutely beaming.

Satoru chuckles, reaching down to ruffle her hair fondly before turning back to you. With an exaggerated flourish, he extends a caramel apple in your direction—bowing slightly as he adopts a tone of mock chivalry.

“For you, my lady,” he says with a smirk.

Unable to hold back a grin, you roll your eyes at his theatrics—taking the apple from him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

As you bring the treat to your mouth, the rich sweetness clings to your lips in a sticky kiss. But you can’t resist glancing over at Satoru—and there he is, utterly lost in the simple pleasure of it. He bites into his own apple with unfiltered delight, like it’s the best thing he’s had all day.

A smile pulls at your lips as you watch him—licking a stray bit of caramel from his thumb. He’s entirely unbothered by the sticky mess, but then, as if feeling your gaze, he looks up—catching your eyes with a glint of amusement. A slow, satisfied grin spreads across his face, unashamed and utterly charming.

"I didn’t peg you as someone who’d go for something this messy," you tease, taking another bite of your apple as he shrugs.

“You say messy; I say worth it,” he counters.

Your eyes linger on a small smudge of caramel at the corner of his mouth, and without thinking, you reach out—brushing your thumb gently across his lips to clean it away. But just as you begin to pull your hand back, he captures your fingers—holding them in place while his gaze meets yours. His lips curl into a smirk that promises nothing but trouble, and a shiver tingles up your spine the moment he brings your thumb to his lips.

Slowly, deliberately, he closes his lips around your thumb—enveloping the sticky sweetness in his warm mouth while sucking it off with a teasing slowness—leaving you breathless.

“You’re impossible…” you mutter.

Releasing your digit with a soft, tantalizing pop—your breath hitches, and there’s a smug delight in the way he studies you, reveling in the effect he’s stirred within you.

“What can I say?” he hums, licking his lips with a casual ease. “Sweet things are my weakness.”

Your eyes are helplessly drawn to his lips—watching as his tongue glides over his bottom lip, catching the last traces of caramel. For a heartbeat, you can’t look away; his lips look even more tempting than the caramel itself, and something about his self-assured gaze has you feeling flustered and captivated all at once.

“Your weakness, huh?” you breathe, finally managing to lift your gaze back to his, trying to sound nonchalant. “Good to know… I’ll remember that next time you act like you’re above everyone else.”

A rich, low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he leans in, and the air around you crackles with anticipation as his gaze drops to your still sticky lips.

“You should,” he whispers, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours—a glint of mischief and something softer. “Especially since caramel apples aren’t my only weakness.”

Before you can even catch your breath, he leans in, bridging the small distance between you until his lips hover just a whisper away. His mouth brushes against yours, feather-light at first—a tentative, lingering touch that sends a shiver through you. Instinctively, you find yourself mirroring his movements, returning the kiss with gentle insistence.

As his hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb strokes a slow, comforting line along your cheek, grounding you, though his lips leave you feeling weightless. The kiss is a delicate dance, as intoxicating as it is tender, and you can taste the faint sweetness of caramel mingling with the warmth of him.

Pulling back, his warm breath mingles with your own as he rests his forehead gently against you. His eyes, soft and half-lidded, meet yours, and a small, satisfied smile tugs at his lips.

“You know…” he murmurs, caressing your cheek, “you taste even better than the caramel.”

“Sweet talker…” you mumble, your cheeks warming under his gaze as his smirk widens.

“Mmm, but you’re the sweetest thing here,” he breathes, voice dropping as he draws close again. “But… I think I need another taste. Just to be sure.”

This time, his lips press with a deeper, more assured insistence, moving against yours in a rhythm of warmth and quiet intensity. A low hum of approval escapes him, vibrating softly against your lips, and his hand slides to the back of your neck—fingers weaving through your hair as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

But just as you begin to lose yourself in the moment, a small, determined voice slices through the quiet intimacy like a record scratch.

“Hey!” Haru scolds, stern and resolute. “Bad ‘toru! Don’t squish Mama!”

Startled, you both break apart, blinking at each other as you catch your breath. You turn to see Haru standing nearby, her little arms crossed over her chest as she fixes Satoru with an adorably fierce look. Her brows are furrowed in a way that would be intimidating—if she weren’t so tiny.

Oh, Haru.

You exchange a quick, sheepish glance with Satoru, and he lets out a quiet chuckle, reaching down to ruffle her hair in an attempt to defuse her stern gaze.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he says, grinning. “Mama’s tougher than she looks.”

Wriggling out of his reach, she stomps her foot with a determined huff.

“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”

Satoru blinks—the corners of his mouth twitching up as he struggles to keep a straight face. Biting back a grin, he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Right. You got it boss,” he nods solemnly. “I’ll be extra nice.”

There’s a brief pause as Haru narrows her eyes at Satoru.

“Promise ‘toru?”

“Promise.” He taps his chest for emphasis, as if making a sacred vow.

After a long, scrutinizing pause—deciding whether to take his promise seriously—Haru nods, a satisfied “hmmph” escaping her as she plops down beside you with her candy apple in hand.

“No more squishing,” she mumbles around a bite—keeping a wary eye on him.

That’s it—you can’t hold it in any longer. Laughter bubbles out of you, and Satoru glances up, catching your eye with a grin that’s equal parts amused and exasperated.

“Well…” he sighs, as if he’s been given the most impossible mission, “guess I’ve been told.”

ꨄ︎

As the three of you meander through the pumpkin patch, Haru skips along—tugging on your hands and pointing out each new discovery in delight—a scarecrow with a tilted hat, a butterfly fluttering briefly on a tall stalk of corn, a perfectly round pumpkin nestled under twisting vines.

Then, bouncing on her toes, she points toward a massive, lumbering tractor—its green paint chipped and worn, but still carrying an undeniable charm.

“Look, ‘toru! I wanna ride it!” she exclaims.

As Satoru’s eyes narrow on the rumbling machine, you can see the gears turning in his head. Him—a man of luxury and refinement, clambering onto a dusty old tractor?

But after one look at Haru’s eager face, his resolve crumbles.

And of course, moments later, he’s perched on a bale of hay—Haru bouncing with delight on his lap as the tractor lurches to life. The wheels crunch over the fallen leaves, and Haru chatters happily, pointing out every bump and turn in the ride—blissfully unaware of the incongruity of a billionaire on a hay bale.

After the bumpy ride, the petting zoo became Haru’s next paradise. Dashing from pen to pen, her tiny hands pressed against each fence—pointing at each animal with wide-eyed wonder—calling out, “Look, Mama! Look, ‘toru!”

Each discovery sends her gazing up at Satoru with curious eyes, expecting him to know everything about each creature, and he humors her with a quiet patience—kneeling down beside her to answer her endless questions with a tender fondness that tugs at your heart.

But as you’re savoring this rare, serene moment, you feel a subtle shift in the air. From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a woman a few feet away, dressed in a cozy autumn sweater and a scarf, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that spills over one shoulder. She’s dressed casual in appearance—completely harmless—but what unsettles you is the intensity in her gaze—a gaze that lingers on Satoru a bit too long.

At first, you try to brush it off. Maybe she’s just admiring him—after all, he’s breathtakingly attractive, and his presence has a way of turning heads even on his most inconspicuous days. But then, her expression shifts, morphing from idle admiration to something sharper.

Recognition.

Your heart sinks as you see her eyes widen, her mouth parting slightly in surprise. Holding your breath, you hope she’ll just let it go—that it’ll be a fleeting thought.

No such luck.

With a quick, subtle gesture, she nudges her friend beside her, her excitement barely contained. The friend follows her gaze, squinting slightly before her eyes, too, widen in realization. Their quiet murmurs are punctuated by eager glances your way, confirming your worst fear: they know who he is.

The comforting illusion of anonymity you’d clung to here—the precious notion that, for once, you could just be a regular family enjoying a simple day out—begins to fray at the edges, unraveling under the weight of their recognition. No matter how far you venture from the city, from his world of fame and fortune, it seems his reputation is impossible to outrun—constantly creeping back to claim him… to claim you.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly approach Satoru, who’s still kneeling by Haru as she excitedly babbles about the sheep. You crouch down beside him and gently place your hand on his shoulder—catching his attention. Turning to you, his expression softens at the sight of you—until he notices the concern in your eyes.

“They recognize you,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly toward the two women.

Following your glance, a shadow of something unreadable passes over his face as he takes in their intrigued, lingering stares, and for a moment, you feel the hopelessness creeping in—the reality that moments like these are fleeting—vulnerable to the slightest shift in attention.

But then, something shifts in Satoru’s expression—his gaze sharpening with determination as he catches sight of the disappointment settling in your eyes. Glancing around, he begins assessing the layout of the pumpkin patch—searching for an escape route.

Then, his gaze lands on it—a tall, winding corn maze, its entrance just a few yards away, partially hidden behind a cluster of hay bales.

Perfect.

Without a beat of hesitation, he leans in close to Haru—who’s blissfully caught up in a bunny nibbling on some hay.

“Agent Haru,” he intones with mock seriousness, “do you remember our mission?”

Haru’s head snaps up, her face lighting up instantly as she turns to him.

“Yeah!” she squeals, grinning with a spark of adventure.

“Good,” he nods, casting a quick, discreet glance toward the approaching women. “We need to escape without being spotted by those two ladies over there,” he gestures subtly, grinning. “Think you can handle it?”

Haru’s face scrunches up in concentration, and her tiny hands clench into fists as she straightens up. Her expression breaks into one of fierce determination—one that’s both adorable and earnest.

“Yes, ‘toru!” she whispers back, nodding.

With a reassuring smile, Satoru’s on his feet—taking your hand in one of his and Haru’s in the other.

“Hold on tight,” he quips, a smirk playing on his lips as the three of you dash toward the maze.

The moment you break into a run, Haru’s delighted giggles mix with the crunch of leaves underfoot, and soon you plunge into the tall, twisting rows of corn.

You steal a glance back towards the petting zoo, half-expecting to see the curious women following, but the corn closes in behind you like a cocoon, swallowing them from sight.

Satoru’s hand is warm around yours, grounding yet electrifying, and his laughter mingles with Haru’s squeals. With a sideways glance, his eyes meet yours and his grin is wide and exhilarating. Giving you a quick wink, he turns forward again, tugging you along as you dive deeper—daring you to keep up.

“Agent Haru, status report! Any enemies in sight?" he calls out in a mock-commanding tone.

Haru, bubbling with laughter, scans the rows of corn with exaggerated intensity—clutching his hand with fierce determination as her little legs pump as fast as they can.

"All clear ‘toru!" she yells back, brimming with excitement.

In that instant, the lingering worry, the quiet ache of reality, all of it dissolves into the thrill of escape—the magic of this moment. There’s no fame, no recognition, no judgement here; only the unrestrained joy of play, of racing through a maze as though the world is nothing but this stretch of golden corn and laughter.

You weave together through twists and turns—a blur of giggles and hurried footsteps until finally, you reach a small, secluded clearing tucked deep within the towering stalks.

Gasping for breath, you lean back against one of the tall stalks, and after a moment, you let yourself slide down to the ground—pulling your knees to your chest as you catch your breath, the crisp autumn air cooling your flushed cheeks.

Beside you, Satoru braces his hands on his knees, exhaling deeply before he follows your lead and sinks down onto the ground next to you. Though ahead, Haru seems immune to exhaustion. She’s already a few steps away, her eyes wide with wonder as she spots a butterfly lazily drifting through a patch of sunlight. Completely captivated, she crouches down, watching its gentle path—momentarily lost in her own little world.

Satoru’s eyes meet yours with a shared, silent thrill. Nudging your shoulder with his, a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Didn’t know a pumpkin patch would turn into a covert operation,” he exhales.

You laugh, breathlessly.

“Not exactly what I had in mind for a relaxing day out,” you give his knee an affectionate shove with yours. “But… I guess life with you is never boring.”

He chuckles, throwing his head back and gazing up at the autumn sky—a few streaks of orange and pink peeking through the corn tops.

“Well…” his eyes flicker to yours, sparkling with that familiar, teasing gleam. “You did sign up for the full Gojo experience. Adventures, paparazzi, occasional cornfield chases… it’s all part of the package sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

“Uh-huh, sure, sure. I just thought it would involve more champagne and less running,” you quip, nudging him playfully.

“Oh, you want champagne?” he grins, raising an eyebrow in mock challenge. “You sure you can handle it? Remember that first charity gala? You were practically clinging to me by the end of the night.”

Your cheeks flush at the memory, and you laugh, slightly flustered.

“Okay, but did you expect me to be completely unfazed? My first gala, fancy dresses, and…"

The words die on your lips—the memory of that night creeping in; the low lights, the glint of champagne glasses, and then… that kiss. Your first kiss—with Satoru.

A kiss that was completely under the guise of putting on a show for Naoya… though let’s be real, it was anything but pretend.

Satoru’s eyes light up with interest as he catches your hesitation, his smirk widening like a cat about to pounce.

“Go on. Fancy dresses and… what, exactly?” he prompts, a playful drawl.

As he tilts his head with that infuriatingly charming glint in his eye, you know, that he knows, exactly what you were thinking. Ugh. He can be infuriating.  

Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.

“Nothing! Just… the whole night was… overwhelming,” you mumble, trailing off as you divert your gaze.

A low, amused hum escapes him—rumbling through his chest as his knowing look revels in your embarrassment.

“Overwhelming, huh?” he echoes, grin widening. “Interesting choice of words… considering you were the one who practically jumped me in front of your ex.”

With an exasperated groan, you roll your eyes in protest.

“Well, what can I say?” you sigh, feigning indifference as you rest your head on your knees. “Drastic times called for drastic measures.”

“Mmm-hmm, sure, keep telling yourself that,” he chuckles—dropping his head to rest against his own knees. You hold your breath as his blue eyes catch yours with a quiet, teasing intensity. “But… I’m pretty sure you just couldn’t resist me…” his crooked grin grows, “after all, that kiss was all you.”

You scoff, your cheeks heating as you stretch your legs—trying to hide your amusement. “I think you’re misremembering things. If anything, you were the one clinging to me.”

His laughter spills out, rich and unrestrained. With a content sigh, he follows your movements, stretching out beside you.

“Sure, sure. Believe what you want, sweetheart.”

The comfortable silence settles over you, and you find yourself glancing back to where Haru is still entranced by a butterfly drifting through the sunlight, her face lit with pure wonder.

She’s so… happy. And that fills you with a deep, quiet gratitude. Moments like these are what you’ve always wanted for her. It’s what she deserves, and it warms your heart to know you’re able to give her a day like this.

A sigh escapes your lips, and your voice softens into a gentle murmur as you nod in her direction.

“For a minute there… I really thought we’d have to cut the day short.”

Satoru’s gaze flickers over to Haru, a fond smile softening his expression before he turns back to you. Without a word, he reaches for your hand—fingers intertwining with yours, steady and grounding.

“Nah,” he murmurs, quietly but firmly. “Not a chance. Nothing’s cutting this short. Todays about you and Haru.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, melting away any lingering traces of tension as his words sink in, wrapping around your heart like a gentle embrace. You smile, squeezing his hand in return.

“Just us, huh?” you whisper.

“Just us,” he echoes, brushing your knuckles with his thumb.

Then, with a soft sigh and a playful glint in his eye, he unclasps your hand to raises both hands to his mouth, calling out to Haru.

“Hey, Agent Haru!” he shouts, “Ready to finish our mission?”

Haru’s head snaps up, her eyes bright with excitement. She breaks into a grin and dashes over, grabbing each of your hands with her small, eager fingers.

“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”

ꨄ︎

As the golden light of early evening filters through the trees, the day is winding down, and the three of you start making your way back toward the entrance—weaving through the brightly colored stalls—each one bathed in the honeyed light of sunset.

But then, just as you reach the last stretch of the path, a delighted squeal breaks Haru’s focus the moment her gaze lands on a large, freshly raked pile of leaves just off to the side—a mound of vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows stacked high like a miniature mountain waiting to be conquered. Without a second thought, she breaks free from Satoru’s hand—dashing toward the pile with uncontainable excitement.

Zeroing in on the pile, she abruptly halts—her tiny form silhouetted against the colorful heap. You watch curiously as she glances back over her shoulder—her eyes alight with mischief and her cheeks flushed pink from the chill in the air.

Beaming with the thrill of discovery, she flings herself into the pile—a burst of leaves scattering around her in a vibrant whirlwind as she bursts into a fit of giggles.

“‘toru, look, look!” she calls out, peeking up from within the pile. “Come play, ‘toru! Come play!”

Satoru stops, watching her with a raised brow and an amused grin. He chuckles softly, though you can hear the reluctance coloring his tone. Diving headfirst into a pile of leaves? Clearly, that’s a foreign concept for Satoru Gojo—it’s more of that childlike wonder he missed out on.

Noticing his hesitance, you step up beside him—giving him a teasing nudge with your shoulder.

“C’mon ‘toru, afraid of a few leaves? Don’t tell me the ‘perfect’ Mr. Gojo is worried about getting a little dirt on him?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes—though a smile is already tugging at his lips.

“Afraid? Me?” his hands burrow into his hoodie pocket as he casts you a sideways glance. “Hardly. I’m just… y’know… assessing the situation.”

Biting back a grin, you begin to take a few slow, deliberate steps backwards—inching toward the pile where Haru is waiting as your eyes hold his with a silent dare.

“Assessing, huh?” you raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Mmm… I dunno, sounds like stalling to me. Come on, live a little, Mr. Gojo.”

He smirks, but before he can respond, you twirl around and dive into the pile beside Haru—scattering a burst of leaves around you. Your laughter blends with Haru’s giggle as you sink into the softness, and immediately, she reaches for a handful of leaves—tossing them up in the air so they flutter down like confetti.

Satoru tilts his head, grinning but not budging as the kaleidoscope of autumn colors rain down upon you both. But Haru? She’s not about to let him sit this one out.

Peeking over her shoulder, her eyes immediately set back on Satoru, and her expression morphs into one of adorable determination.

“’toooooru,” she whines, wide eyes practically glowing with hope. “Pleeease. Come play!”

Oh, Haru. He’s powerless against her persistence—and perhaps, against the joy that radiates from the two of you in that pile of leaves. With a theatrical sigh and a reluctant grin, he finally pulls his hands from his pockets.

“Alright, alright,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and makes his way towards the leaf pile.

Standing at the edge of the pile, he kneels down to brush his hand over the crisp leaves—and then, with a sudden burst of resolve and dramatic flair, he lets himself fall back into the pile—flopping down as the leaves scatter around him. Haru wastes no time throwing herself on top of him.

An exaggerated grunt slips through Satoru’s lips, and Haru bursts into laughter as her small hands begin to bury him under a layer of vibrant foliage.

“Oh no!” he lets out a mock gasp as she buries him deeper. “I’m being buried alive! Save me!”

Haru’s laughter bubbles up, uncontrollable and infectious, as she adds even more leaves. “Stay still!” she scolds through her giggles, patting the leaves around his arms. “Don’t move, ‘toru!

“So, I’m supposed to just lie here and accept my fate, huh?” he huffs in defeat and glances up at her with wide eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t some secret plan to take me out?”

“Shhh!” she grins, putting a finger to his lips. “Magic leaves.”

“Oh, magic leaves? Well, why didn’t you say so?” his eyes glint with amusement as he lies still, trying to keep a straight face, though the laughter in his voice betrays him.

Haru continues to stack leaves atop him with a determined precision, until for a moment, she pauses—her eyes narrowing with that familiar glimmer of mischief yet again, as if she’s calculating her next move. Then suddenly, with a burst of energy, she tackles him with all her might—giggling as she sends the carefully arranged pile of leaves flying in every direction.

“Oh, it’s on!” Satoru laughs, his own grin widening as he grabs a handful of leaves to fling back at her. “You think you can get me like that, huh?”

In an instant, they’re caught in a whirlwind of laughter and autumn leaves. Seated nearby, you observe their playful battle unfold—Haru shrieking with joy as she ducks and scrambles to gather more ammunition. The warmth in your chest blossoms, and you feel almost entranced by the sight before you.

As Satoru’s deep, unrestrained laughter blends with Haru’s giggles, you realize in this moment just how rare it is to see him like this—completely carefree and unguarded. Gone is the man who must always play his part. Gone is the man who so often conceals his true self beneath layers of poise and duty. Here, with Haru, he is simply Satoru—someone who can laugh until he’s breathless and lose himself in a child’s game without a care.

You wonder how many other moments like this he’s missed—the boyish enthusiasm makes it seem almost as if he, too, is experiencing this kind of carefree fun for the first time. And that alone makes this moment feel so precious—something you wish you could capture and keep forever—suspended in time.

He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.

“Okay, okay! I surrender!” he finally laughs, throwing his hands up in mock defeat before collapsing back into the pile—his chest rising and falling with exhilarated breaths as Haru cheers in victory.

“Gotcha, ‘toru!” she declares proudly—triumphantly piling more leaves on him. “You’re a leaf monster!”

Satoru chuckles, brushing a stray leaf off his nose as he props himself up slightly. “A leaf monster?” his eyes gleam playfully. “Well… you better be careful then—I might come back with vengeance.”

She squeals with laughter and her eyes sparkle with excitement as she scrambles to her feet. “Ahhh! Go away ‘toru!” she shrieks—darting away to dive into another pile of leaves nearby.

Watching her go, Satoru’s expression softens—a peaceful sigh slipping past his lips as he takes a moment to catch his breath. “She’s got endless energy, doesn’t she?” he murmurs, tilting his head up to meet your gaze.

Your heart flutters at the warmth in his eyes, and you lean back on your hands, letting your own smile mirror his as you watch Haru’s figure disappear into another pile of leaves. “She does,” you breathe softly. “But… I think you’re doing a pretty good job keeping up.”

A quiet hum of contentment escapes him, and a soft smile tugs at his lips. Almost instinctively, he shifts closer, letting his head nestle in your lap as he leans back into the leaves.

“Maybe…” he trails off into a lazy, satisfied sigh. “But I think I’ll take a break right here… if that’s okay.”

As the dappled sunlight filters through the golden autumn leaves above, it casts soft shadows across his face—illuminating the gentle warmth in his eyes. Your heart swells at the sight, and without a word, you reach out—threading your fingers through his hair, each strand slipping through your fingertips, softer than you expected. He hums, sinking into your touch, his eyes drifting shut as a slow, contented smile spreads across his lips.

Around you, the world seems to quiet, holding its breath. Haru’s distant giggles mingle with the soft rustling of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze, wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of peace.

“You know…” you murmur, “I think this is my favorite side of you.”

His eyes flutter open, a flicker of surprise giving way to something unguarded and vulnerable. Slowly, a tender smile forms on his lips as he reaches up, brushing his hand gently against yours.

“Yeah?” he drawls, “Didn’t know I had a ‘favorite side.’”

“You do…” your fingers trace gentle circles through his hair, savoring the feel of each delicate touch. “It’s the side where you don’t have to be anything but… here, with us.”

For a heartbeat, he’s utterly still, as if each word you’ve spoken has wrapped itself around his heart. His gaze deepens, and your breath catches—it’s like he’s seeing you in a way that reaches beyond words. Gently, his hand comes up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear—his fingertips grazing your cheek with a touch so tender it makes your heart ache.

“Guess I didn’t know I could just… be that,” he whispers.

You lift your hand, covering his and pressing it to your cheek. “Well, you can. With us, you always can.”

His gaze holds yours, something vulnerable yet content in his eyes, but then, as if unable to help himself, the warmth shifts into a familiar glint—a spark of playfulness creeping back into his expression. “Alright, alright…” he lets out an exaggerated sigh, “let’s not get too sentimental. I gotta keep up my ‘mysterious’ reputation, remember?”

A laugh spills from you, light and unrestrained, as you roll your eyes in amusement. “Oh, you’re plenty mysterious. Half the time, I still can’t tell if you’re serious or just messing with me.”

He lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, leaning back further into your lap as if he’s completely relaxed—the picture of contentment.

“You should know by now…” he murmurs, feigning seriousness as he closes his eyes, “…it’s usually both.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, barely hiding the smirk he’s trying to restrain, and you can’t help but shake your head, grinning at his theatrics.

“Well… for the record,” your voice naturally softens, “I think a little tenderness suits you.”

One eye flicks open at your words, his brow quirking as he regards you with amused curiosity. Closing his eye again, his smirk deepens as he nestles further into your lap.

“Oh, does it?” he murmurs lazily, but there’s no mistaking the glint of interest coloring his tone.

“Yup,” you reply, leaning back on your hands and glancing up at the sky with feigned indifference. “I dunno… it’s kinda cute, actually.”

The words slip out like a quiet confession, and you notice the shift in him immediately—a subtle but unmistakable change.

Unable to keep up his act any longer, a bright, satisfied grin breaks across his face as he sits up—lifting his head from your lap—and his fingers slip through yours, intertwining and pulling you near him.

“Cute?” his voice drops as he brings his face achingly close to yours. “Careful now… saying things like that? You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

You feel your heart pounding—the thrill of his closeness electrifying as his breath fans your skin, but you hold his gaze boldly with a smirk.

“Well, maybe I like a little trouble,” you whisper back.

A playful growl rumbles in his chest, his smirk deepening as he tightens his grip on your intertwined hands.

“Oh… now you’re really asking for it. You’re officially in trouble.”

In one swift motion, he wraps his arms around you—sending you both tumbling back into the soft bed of leaves. The world around you blurs into a whirl of amber and gold as laughter escapes your lips, filling the crisp autumn air. But as you settle, your laughter fades, leaving only a quiet, shared breath between you and a gentle smile lingering on both your faces.

Hovering above you, his gaze softens as the leaves cradle you beneath their rustling blanket. It’s as though he’s committing every detail to memory as his eyes trace each curve and contour of your face, and you take in a quiet breath as his hand finds its way up your cheek—brushing over your skin and making you melt under his touch.

“Gotcha,” he whispers, brushing his nose gently against yours.

A quiet gasp slips past your lips, your pulse quickening as his proximity becomes all-consuming. Still, you muster a playful eye-roll, though the warmth in your gaze betrays your affection.

“Is this your idea of ‘assessing the situation,’?”

“Absolutely,” he murmurs, eyes softening. “God, you’re beautiful…”

The sincerity in his voice leaves you breathless, and a warmth blooms in your cheeks that reaches all the way to your heart. Before you can respond, he closes the distance—his lips capturing yours in a kiss so soft, so achingly tender, it leaves you dizzy.

As he deepens the kiss, a soft sigh escapes you, your fingers finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Each brush of his lips is slow, deliberate—and everything else fades into nothingness, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the press of his lips, and the steady rhythm of your heartbeats entwined.

But just as you’re about to melt entirely into him, a tiny voice breaks through the haze of warmth and closeness.

“Hey!” Haru’s voice calls out, stern and unwavering. “Bad ‘toru!”

Pulling back, Satoru groans softly, chuckling under his breath. His gaze flicks to Haru, who stands with her hands on her hips, looking every bit the tiny but fierce protector. He drops his head in defeat, shooting you a look of amused resignation.

“Well, looks like we’ve been caught,” he whispers, brushing a stray leaf from your hair with a soft, lingering touch.

You stifle a laugh, trying to keep your composure as you glance back at Haru.

“We should probably get back to her before she starts scolding you again,” you sigh, rising to your feet with his help.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can handle another ‘squishing’ intervention,” he mutters, intertwining his fingers with yours as you both walk back to Haru, who’s watching the two of you with narrowed, all-seeing eyes.

With the sun dipping lower in the sky, it paints the fields in shades of amber and gold. The three of you make your way back toward the entrance of the pumpkin patch—Haru skipping along, her small hands clasped in both of yours as she chatters excitedly about everything she saw—even as the day winds down.

But as you approach the entrance, ready to leave this little haven of laughter and leaves behind, a quiet warmth settles in your chest—a feeling that this moment, this fleeting, joyful day with the people you cherish most, is a memory you’ll carry with you. This is your little family, and it’s worth all the chases, all the whispers, all the adventures.

For now, that’s all that matters.

thanks for reading this special little fall chapter! satoru is such a cutie pie with haru 🥹 i really wanted to have this out before october ended, but alas, my perfectionism kept holding me back 😅 anyways, ch 7 is indeed in the works—that'll be my next post, and it will be out by the end of this month. i appreciate you all being so patient, hope you had a lovely halloween 🎃 -aly 💛

taglist:

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

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@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

[gatorbites-imagines]

Listen. Listen. Hear me out.

I beg you, almighty gator—Gambit(Remy LeBeau) x M/FTM reader(ur choice i like both :)) where reader is a mutant that has some kind of power that has to do with sea monsters, and loves tarot cards so Remy does card tricks for him while reader is in a pool.

When I was a kid I called Gambit “Magic Man” and I had to hold myself back from screaming that in the theater when I was watching D&W a few days ago and revived my non-understandable fanboying of him. (Sorry for the rant)

You can change the fic anyway you want, I’ve got no problem as long as Remy is as silly as he normally is(can evolve into smut or whatever cause I’m freaky like that 😏)

Gracias Gator!!

Remy Lebeau x mutant male reader

Headcanons

I love Remy SO much its insane. I can’t write accents, so it’s there in spirit. Haven’t read the comics, so im basing this off of is wiki. no smut but i had fun writing this.

i loved seeing Remy in the movie, i just wish theyd given him his eyes, you know?

How you two met can be a mixed bag. Maybe you met in the x-men, maybe you met in the thieves guild before every crossing paths with the x-men as a whole, or maybe somewhere completely third. I enjoy the idea of the thieves guild though, so ill go with that.

You both had different reasons for joining or doing what you do, but being two mutants amongst a lot of other non-mutants meant you felt some kind of kinship with each other, even if you didn’t really get along in the beginning.

Especially with you two being visibly mutants. With Remy’s eyes and you having scales on different areas of your body, gills on your sides, what others would refer to as “monster eyes”, so on and so forth.

This resulted in you two preferring to work together when you got the chance, you trained together, ate together, slept together (not like that), so on and so forth. It also meant you two got a very deep understanding of each other over time.

It also meant that Remy got to see just how stupidly powerful you were. In the beginning you just thought your powers involved controlling water and being able to breath underwater. Who’d have thought you could do crazy stuff like controlling typhoons, rain, lightning, so on and so forth, like some kind of biblical being.

This was how you gained the name leviathan. You didn’t really like the name in the beginning, since you hadn’t really picked it yourself and it felt almost insulting with your appearance. But Remy was so supportive you ended up coming to like it, even though it took a long time.

In the end you two split apart as you leave the guild, going your separate ways but still keeping in contact in small but safe ways. With a power like yours it was hard to stay under the radar, and many wanted you on their side, even if it meant by force.

Time passes, Remy joins the x-men, you travel on your own and discover yourself and the world. Remy gets kicked out of the x-men when they learn of his past, you two meet up again and travel together for a while.

Its during this gap in Remy’s place with the x-men that your relationship became something more. He tells you about Rogue, and how he at first thought he loved her, only to realize what he felt for her wasn’t near as strong as what he felt for you.

And of course, during this confession, Remy tries to lay on the charm and act like it isn’t a big deal, but you can easily see through him and notice how anxious he is about it. in the end you just have to grab him and kiss him to shut him up, which yes, does shut him up, but also leads to you guys falling back into the water you’d been sitting by when he lunges at you to kiss you again.

Hes a charming guy yes, Remy has such a way with his words, how he carries himself or how he touches you. But underneath all that he also cares so deeply, to the point of being willing to die for you or those he cares about, which makes you lose scales from stress at times.

So, if you place protection spells on him that you got from the deepest part of the sea by the people who have started to worship you like a god, then only you have to know. That Namor guy is pretty swell, when he isn’t being a bit arrogant. He even taught you how to use a spear, so you guys are kinda brothers in spirit now.

At some point Remy does return to the x-men, somewhere you don’t feel ready to join him yet. So, a lot of kisses are shared, and a few tears a shed. And yes, of course you give him jewelry made from your scales. And a dagger made out of your larger teeth when you transform into a more serpentine form, because yes, you can also do that.

Remy doesn’t feel much need to tell the x-men about his relationship. Sure, he keeps flirting but that’s just because that’s how he is. But it never goes further than that. Some of the members that can read minds know about it though, since he thinks about you regularly.

In the end the relationship is exposed when the x-men find themselves in quite the pickle near the ocean. And Remy, knowing he can get them the upper hand, is able to snap one of the sigils you placed on him.

Rip to whoever they were fighting, since the sea lashes out and swallows them whole, followers by a giant feral looking sea serpent, you, rise from the water. Yes, you teleported there. What else were you supposed to do? You thought your boy was in danger!

Cue the x-men just being stunned or confused when Remy calls out the cheesiest pet names, almost kicking his feet in happiness at seeing you. It makes a bit more sense when you transform into a more human form, it still takes some explaining though.

In the end you don’t end up fully joining the x-men. You doing that would place them under a lot more danger than usual, since you had your own enemies and alliances, and you’re pretty sure Namor would get butthurt if you did. But you become something of an ally. Which means you hang out on Krakoa on the regular.

It becomes a very regular sight to see a giant serpent lazily swimming around the island, or resting half on the beach as Remy sits and shows you his different tarot readings. Of course, you also spend time together with you in a more human form, but seeing such a big sea monster also makes any baddies keep a distance.

There are also of course pools set up on the island, not just for you, but they’re accessible for you as well. Remy is regularly seen in the pool with you, or just sitting with his feet in as you two talk or whatever else you guys do.

You end up becoming something of a swim instructor to the youngest mutants, or just those that can’t swim in general. This is something Remy finds extremely entertaining and he’s always teasing you about it. luckily its easy to shut him up with a kiss, or by knocking him into the pool. Or both. He doesn’t mind.

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (02/10)

The Contract

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: there is no turning back now and now you and Aemond set the rules and conditions to start the whole farce.

word count: 4.6k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!🥳

I thought this would be a very nice way to wish happy new year to all of you beautiful people who support me and like what I write, you don't know how much that means to me����

thank you for so much support and for so much love, I have loved being here and I definitely plan to stay for longer, seeing how that love evolves and my place here as a writer🥰 so enjoy a lot this new chapter that I really hope you like it a lot❤

many blessings to all of you, my best wishes for your lives in this 2024, I love you all so much!😊❤

enjoy!

It's the first thing you see after turning off the alarm and you curiously enter to read the recent messages from an unknown number, not having the slightest idea of who it might be.

But you let out a long sigh of frustration when you read them and see that it's Aemond, who you don't understand how the fuck he got your number. Of course, it shouldn't have been hard for him, just a few questions and anyone can tell him what he wants to know.

And knowing that you have a long day ahead of you today, you already feel the pressure all over your body when you haven't even left your bed, where you also feel the frustration and all this uncertainty that you thought you had already overcome, but no.

You barely accepted yesterday and suddenly putting the plan into action from one day to the next, it's too much. But without really having a choice, you reluctantly force yourself to get up and start getting ready.

After an hour, you leave your house with the nagging feeling of carrying a weight on your shoulders to school. And all the way there, not even the music in your ears can make your mind calm down for a moment.

Knowing very soon that your whole social life will be a mess and you will no longer be invisible, since after all Aemond was right in that respect, causes you even more uneasiness and also nervousness because you are going to pretend to be the girlfriend of the most popular guy in school.

And once the bus makes its stop, you soon enter the halls of the bustling school. And knowing that a certain silver-haired guy is waiting for you right now, every heavy step you take towards the schoolyard echoes loudly in your ears, increasing your nervousness and anxiety.

You're even tempted to back up and tell him to forget it, but you resist and keep moving forward.

As you walk through the huge doors of the backyard, it's only a matter of time before you make out the figure of Aemond sitting at the same table as yesterday in the distance. Your heart skips a beat and you feel more nervous, but gathering your courage and taking a long breath, you advance towards him, ready but with uncertain steps.

Every step seems heavy, as if you are walking into the unknown and you try to hide the nerves in your gaze, especially when Aemond notices your presence. He watches you and slowly turns to you, a subtle smile on his lips.

Again there is that feeling of telling him to forget it, to find someone else, that you can't do this. But... your mind stops you and screams at you not to be silly, that at the end of it all there will be a reward, a very good reward that getting it by faking a relationship with him, is nothing.

And it's definitely worth it.

So resigned, you reach out to him.

"Hey," he says to you without wiping off his little smile, as you take a seat in front of him and he waits for you to finish settling in, "So you've come."

"Don't bother me," you tell him without humor, definitely contrasting his mood to yours.

"Now what did I do?"

"That," you point to his face, "You're enjoying this, seeing that I haven't backed out."

"Oh, please, I actually thought you wouldn't come and tell me to fuck off after you thought better of it," he justifies himself.

"Yeah? Well, nothing a free admission to your dream college won't do," you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, though implicitly admitting your reasons, "And it's actually not like I like skipping classes, so could we get this started?"

Aemond exhales long, averting his gaze from yours for a moment before returning to watching you.

"You know you'll have to be charming and act like you're completely in love with me in public, right?" he poses, expectantly.

"Yes, I know... in public," you point out to him, "Just now no one knows we're 'dating' genius," you add, underlining the falsity of the situation.

He places a small, amused, smirk on his lips.

"Yet."

He adds with a slightly defiant tone and you roll your eyes.

"Don't get too excited either."

"Are you not?"

"Oh yeah, I can't handle the excitement," you feign in a high-pitched, ironic voice, making exaggerated hand gestures.

Aemond lets out a short but genuine laugh at your gesture. He leans back slightly, his eye revealing a mischievous glint as he watches you.

"Glad to see you're keeping your sense of humor in this," he says with his tone changing slightly to a more relaxed one.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" you reply, accepting his change of mood, but still maintaining a certain emotional distance.

You figure it's just a matter of the two of you getting more into trust, and if you're going to do this with him, you're definitely going to do your part. But for now, this is still a little awkward and unexpected. And the sooner you do this, the better it will be for you.

So you shift your focus and lean forward slightly with a more serious expression on your face.

"So let's get started?"

"Well, making a contract will take up a lot of our time, so I thought it would be easier to just say and agree between us-

"It will be easier this way, to write down and establish the rules and the conditions we want to do during all this, just to have everything clear and not miss anything, Aemond," you interrupt him, taking out a notebook and a pen to start writing.

"Okay, fine," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"So?" you watch him expectantly with the blank sheet of paper in front of you and your pen in hand, "What do you suggest first?"

"Well... first we need to know when this will all end," he begins to say, adopting a relaxed but firm stance, "And I would say that it may end when it is no longer necessary for both of you to continue pretending. But I think it's a better idea for us to last until graduation."

He proposes, looking at you intently, waiting for your reaction and you can't help but be a little surprised to hear that.

"Until graduation?" you repeat and he nods, "But you really want to do this for almost five months?"

"I know it's a long time, but that time can be beneficial for both of us," he explains, "That's enough time to give our relationship credibility and authenticity and it's also enough time to handle any problems that arise."

He says and you nod cautiously, evaluating his words.

"But if you disagree, tell me," he hurries to say.

His calm tone and your reasons contrast with the uncertainty and indecision you feel. And the two of you have barely started.

Five months is such a compromising situation and it generates some concern, because you know you will face so many things you still have no idea about and every day it could become more complicated to maintain the farce.

"I guess it's okay," you cautiously admit, trying to see the big picture, "But I feel like it's still a long time. But also reducing that time might not be enough," you agree.

"Yes but I'm sure we can handle it. And don't worry, if at some point we feel it's too much or we don't have enough reason to keep pretending anymore, we can talk iand end it."

You remain pondering, considering his words and after a few seconds you nod in agreement, and write it down as the first point on the sheet. But this alone is the first piece of a much more complicated puzzle.

1. Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

And Aemond also brings up the next point of the contract, expressing his ideas with quiet but evident assurance.

"Now, second..." he begins, "As for behavior in public, we should genuinely show affection in the hallways, cafeteria, and at any school activity and event. In a relationship people don't take their hands off each other, so we should smile at each other, hug each other, make subtle gestures, hold hands-

"Don't say kissing, please," you interrupt him, pleading, taking him by surprise.

"Of course, Y/N," he tells you instantly, incredulous, "Obviously we'll have to kiss."

As if having to act completely in love with him and be every moment touching him isn't enough. But the idea of kissing seems a bit much to you.

"I agree about showing affection and all that, but that kissing thing might be awkward and... weird," you say, trying to be sincere but not seeming completely closed off to the idea.

Aemond looks at you incredulously.

"So you don't want us to kiss?"

"I don't think it's necessary, honestly."

"Are you crazy? How are we supposed to pretend if we're not going to kiss? No one's going to believe us if we don't kiss and that's what will literally make the whole relationship believable," he insists, visibly concerned.

"Yeah, I get that it might seem necessary, but...at least I don't want to be having to kiss you every single time."

"You don't want to kiss me?" he asks you, visibly surprised, confused and... maybe a little hurt?

You watch him silently for a moment not understanding his reaction and then watch him with a small amused smile.

"I'm not one of your fans, Targaryen."

"Oh come on, everyone wants to kiss me," he says confused and incredulous, proving his point.

"Even the guys?"

"Well... yeah, I don't know, maybe some of them," he says with a shrug.

"Seven Hells," you mutter, averting your gaze for a moment, "I-I really don't want to do that," you say, speaking seriously and then you let out a sigh, "But you're right that no one's going to believe us-

"Obviously. I always have," he is quick to say.

"So my proposal is this... we'll kiss, yes, but only when it's extremely necessary, and when I say extremely necessary I mean extremely necessary."

You watch him intently, keeping yourself willing with your proposal, waiting for his opinion, which judging by his face, he doesn't quite agree with.

"And what would those extremely necessary moments be exactly?" he inquires, attentive and interested, also still looking slightly worried.

"In the cafeteria or in the hallways when everyone is obviously looking at us and we're attracting attention. Just don't abuse it."

Aemond lets out a long breath.

"Well, let's limit them to extremely necessary moments," he finally says resignedly and you quickly note the second point.

2. Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

"But then that second point is also going to apply to the parties you'll be going to with me and my lacrosse games you'll be going to."

You quickly raise your gaze to him.

"What?"

"Yes," he nods, "Going to the parties together will also lend credibility to the relationship and obviously we have to be very close to each other. And it's the same in my games, you must go to support and encourage me, like any girlfriend in love with her boyfriend would."

Aemond's words provoke an instant reaction in you, that confusing you and taking you by surprise.

"But I don't go to parties."

"Now you will," he says with a calm expression, reaching out his hand and taking the pen and your notebook.

"But-

He is already writing in a section further down the sheet which he lists as; 'additional conditions'.

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

"Aemond, I'm not a big fan of parties, really," you insist, "You'll have a bad time if you take me with you and I'll probably ruin everything."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you the trick to having a good time and change that mentality you have. Besides I won't take you to every party, just a few," he assures you, "All while keeping up appearances," he hands you back your notebook and pen, "With me you'll never get bored, I promise," he says with a small smile on his lips.

You let out a sigh, placing the notebook back in front of you, still undecided.

"Yes? Well, we'll see about that. I warned you though."

He lets out a soft little laugh.

"Come on Y/N, you can't be that bad."

"I assure you I can be."

"And so what do you do for fun?" he asks you, keeping his smile, curiosity evident in his gaze.

And there it is, the question that totally describes your personality and that in fact you don't like to answer to just anyone, because then they call you boring. But you can't lie to Aemond, he is astute enough and would notice.

So you decide to be honest.

"I like to read," you reply, lowering your gaze and feeling slightly embarrassed, "And I love going to the movies or watching movies and shows at home, either one is totally fine with me. Oh... and... hm... I also like ice skating, although I don't do that as often but... it's something I like too."

And even though it's only a bit of the world of things you like, Aemond listens to you attentively with a soft expression, saying nothing afterwards, as if he's processing every word you've said, while you only feel more embarrassed by the silence.

You know there's nothing wrong with it but it always made you insecure to share your hobbies, mostly because you know that many girls your age enjoy their teenage years going out with friends to parties and getting drunk.

That didn't and doesn't appeal to you now. You have long been more comfortable with the idea of staying home or going out somewhere else instead of going to parties.

It's not as if you don't attend or avoid every social event, yes you can attend and have a good time depending on who you are with and where, but not as often as every weekend.

However, you understand and recognize the logic behind Aemond's suggestion and that is that attending parties, is essential. And just as he is about to finally speak, you do so first.

"I know they are simple things and are not very exciting for most people. I also know they can be very boring but for me... that's what I like," you shyly confess.

"Hm," he says, taking a small moment, watching you softly, only causing you even more embarrassment, "Well, that's not what I was going to say," he says, catching your attention, "Sometimes it is the simple things that mean the most to everyone and, being honest... I find them interesting," he adds, trying to evaporate any awkwardness and embarrassment you might feel.

You raise your gaze, meeting his bright blue eye watching you softly and with his gaze full of genuine understanding, along with that hint of curiosity. And that gets your attention too.

He's not judging you. And even though it's not something he would do or at least hasn't tried to do yet, he's not judging you for it and you see that genuine interest in his gaze.

"Tell you what, for every party you go to with me, I'll read one of your favorite books or a movie or shows you want me to watch," he says, picking up the notebook and pen again.

"What?" you look at him confused, unable to help but smile in bewilderment, "Are you serious?"

"You must set your own conditions too," he states as he writes, "I already dragged you into my world, so now you're dragging me into yours," he looks up at you, "What do you think? Is it a fair exchange or not?"

His proposal takes you by surprise and also confuses you a little, however, the small smile remains on your face.

The genuine expression of openness on his face and the determination with which he wrote definitely makes you feel more comfortable. His willingness to immerse himself in your interests was not something you had agreed upon from the beginning, nor is it something extremely necessary to fake a relationship.

But it's for the simple reason that you both feel comfortable if you're going to pretend for almost five months and it seems like a nice gesture from him to include it, something you honestly didn't expect from him.

And when he gives you back your notebook, you see the new rule under 'additional conditions'.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

"Yes," you nod, "Sounds like a fair deal to me."

Aemond smiles, pleased with your answer and also seeing the expression on your face.

"Great. We'll see if I discover something new I like. And you too..." he points at you with his index finger, "You won't regret it after you have a great time at my parties," he says enthusiastically, with a sort of complicity in his tone.

"Well, we'll see if you manage to impress me."

And right there, the two of you exchange complicit glances, Aemond having that little smile on his lips while you don't understand this strange new alliance the two of you are building.

But even though you didn't expect it, it's definitely to your liking.

"Now, third..." you point to the notebook with your pen, "Reinforcing the second rule, public appearance," you say, observing him, "We must act as a committed and attentive couple to each other at school and to these parties you want us to go to."

Aemond nods determinedly, thoughtfully.

"Yes, commitment at all times," he states seriously.

"So, that also means that neither of us can be with other people for the duration of all this, not even secretly," you add, making the point clear.

"And you want to write that as a rule too? It's obvious that neither of us should-

"I'll write it as the fourth rule, just to be clear about everything as I told you."

"Oh, fine."

3. Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

4. No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

"Oh and also..." says Aemond, reminding, "Since we're at that point, on additional conditions write that we should both upload photos and videos together on our social media. It's another way to lend credibility to our relationship."

"Photos and videos together on our social media," you repeat, looking at the notebook.

And this catches Aemond's attention.

"Don't tell me you don't use your social media," he says beginning to sound alert and concerned.

"No, no, I-I mean, yes," you hasten to say, "It's just... I don't know, I most likely don't use them as often as you do, besided I have very few followers."

"Don't worry, whatever followers you have are fine. Besides, I'm sure they'll increase when I upload my first photo with you."

You roll your eyes with an amused smile.

"Okay, Mr. Popularity."

"And speaking of that, hand me your Instagram and all your networks," he says instantly, grabbing his cell phone from his front pocket, "We better have that all figured out now."

Obviously Aemond's accounts had to be public while you maintain your privacy, with barely thirteen hundred followers while he has almost the entire school following him and probably from other schools as well.

In fact, your numbers compared to his are embarrassing. But you never really had the interest of having more followers on Instagram or more friends on Facebook, Snapchat is the same and apparently that doesn't matter to Aemond.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

"And well, I also think another very important thing is to maintain privacy," you suggest, lifting your gaze to watch him and Aemond gives you a confused look.

"Do you really want to write that down too? It's obvious we can't tell anyone-

"Let me enjoy this, Aemond. It's actually fun and I want to write it all down. So act serious," you ask.

He lets out a choked laugh.

"Well, yes, we must be discreet, no one must know that all this is false, only we know the truth and we must keep it that way," he says and you excitedly write it down.

"We mustn't involve our families in this either," you add, watching him intently, "But that will be difficult because your siblings are here," you grimace.

"We can keep up the farse with them for a while too, I'll convince them not to say anything to my mother or the rest of my family. And once everyone here at school is convinced enough, I'll tell the truth only to them," he say sure and confident, solving the problem.

"And you're sure you'll manage to keep them that way?"

"Yeah," he says with a shrug, "They're my siblings. I know how it works with each one."

5. Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot..." Aemond says as he points to what is already written, "You must also go on each year's trip to Dragonstone with me. That's another additional condition of mine."

"What?" you inquire again, surprised and confused.

"Yes, the trip to Dragonstone," he affirms.

Oh God, the trip to Dragonstone.

Dragonstone is an island not far from King's Landing, where there is an ancient castle with a lot of history but has been modernized with the same name and is open to every visitor.

The school makes an annual trip for educational purposes as the castle has relics and structuring from thousands of years ago. You have seen pictures and videos where everything looks really beautiful, ancestral and almost royalty.

In addition the castle offers other activities, such as rides on its huge luxury yachts, surfing, diving and swimming lessons.

You always had the spirit to go but have always known that the trip is anything but educational. You've heard stories that happen with the students, such as getting drunk, partying on the yachts, hot tubs and obviously you've heard stories of who slept with whom.

Even the most reserved get to have fun and it's not something you're interested in. You know you don't fit in that environment, especially since everyone has to share a room and you're sure that if you go, you'll have to share a room with girls with different tastes and perspectives than yours. They probably won't even let you sleep.

"Come on Y/N, you've never been to Dragonstone?" asks Aemond incredulously, noting the grimace on your face for wanting you to go there with him.

"Well, yeah I've wanted to go but... I-I, I don't know, I've heard that instead of learning about the place, everyone goes to having fun, they party, they get drunk and I-I don't...

"And what do you expect us to do in a modern castle on the shore of the beach with yachts and hot tubs?" he inquires again, expectantly, "The trip is planned for the middle of the last month of these five months and you can't let me go alone with the things that go on in that place."

You make your grimace more visible, revealing your clear indecision. And even though you and Aemond have been at odds lately over the matter of tastes, he still places a soft smile in your direction, understanding that you are not like him and prefer to do other things.

"Look, you don't have to go to the parties and drink if you don't want to," he starts to tell you, "But we can at least go to one of the parties on the yachts and then do the activities they offer on site, swimming, diving and all that," he proposes, "We'll take pictures, tour the castle and we'll both be equally satisfied."

You ponder for a moment, considering his proposal. You know you only have to get your father's signature on the permit to be able to go to the island and it's not like you've gone before so... you can do it now.

"Well, I guess that's fine," you nod, "But really promise you won't leave me alone and we'll take the time to do other activities that aren't related to partying on yachts and hot tubs."

"Please, we'll go as a couple, so of course I won't leave you alone. You'll be stuck with me," he assures you, "And I also promise you that we'll do other activities, not just the parties."

"And..." you start to say, in a serious, warning tone, "Also promise you'll pick me up every morning to bring me to school. That's another one of my additional conditions. The bus isn't very comfortable anymore."

He nods, shrugging, completely unconcerned.

"Sure, it's no problem. Besides it will make the relationship more credible," he says softly.

Despite your doubts, you feel a sense of relief at seeing and acknowledging his commitment. And you also feel more confident knowing that you have his support in all of this, even in your conditions. So you write down the two new additional conditions.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

At the end you both sign the sheet, looking honestly ridiculous but being funny, then both seal the whole contract by shaking hands.

"So when do we start all this?" you ask him, putting away your notebook and pen.

"I say tomorrow," he gives you a look of understanding, "But we need to talk now during classes in the hallways or in the cafeteria, so that when they see us together tomorrow, it won't be so surprising and will seem more believable."

You give him an unsure look.

"I think it will still be very surprising, Aemond."

"It doesn't matter, we just have to start showing together today, just talking. But tomorrow is when we really start."

And just as he says those words, with that determination, you feel again those nerves in your lower abdomen and that insecurity. But at least you still have all day today to mentally prepare yourself, and you're grateful for that.

"And before I forget this too..." he says again, "I need you to send me all your academic information to work on your college application now," he tells you seriously and you watch him completely attentively, "The five months will go by fast and during that time college applications will start. So it's best to get it all in now."

At this, you feel your heart start to beat fast and you don't know why, you guess because it's a very important issue for you. And more than anything else it's the reason you agreed to do this with him.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," you say softly, "I-I'll email it all to you."

He smiles softly in your direction.

"Very well," he nods at you, "I'll text you my email."

Despite your slight doubts about whatever is going to happen next, the idea of starting a fake relationship leaving you with a knot in your stomach and feeling your emotions mixed, you know this will all be worth a try.

So you pick up your phone and you start to write in an email all your personal and academic information. While at the same time all is said and done and the fake relationship contract is over.

THE CONTRACT

Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

ADDITIONAL CONDITIONS

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

general taglist

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff

[spenceragnewfics]

omg hi hi super excited to read your stuff!! Could I request a fluffy Spencer fic where reader also works at smosh and they’re tiptoeing around their relationship because they don’t want viewers/coworkers to know!! <33

I really hope you enjoy this. I didn't really know how I wanted to do this so I hope this is good. Enjoy!!

THE PA & THE DIRECTOR | Spencer Agnew x Reader

TW: none that I know of

Word Count: 1.2k

Description: Starting as an intern, Y/N forms a close relationship with Spencer which turns into a very loving but secret relationship. That is until the three newest cast members and a returning owner finds evidence to prove otherwise.

In the summer of 2021, Y/N had gotten an internship with Smosh. They were hired on as an intern for the office in their senior year of college. During the summer, they had many friendships and connections made with people all over the office, the best one being with the games crew and Spencer in particular.

When the summer ended, Ian offered them a job for after they graduate. They would be a PA for the gaming channel and Y/N accepted immediately, they loved their summer working for the company and the people so why wouldn’t they accept the job?

Y/N graduated in the spring of 2022 and moved to LA to start their career at Smosh. They thrived with helping on the gaming channel and even were allowed to help edit some videos, with Spencer’s supervision for the first few.

The two of them continued to get closer and closer with all the late nights they spent together working and they had even more when Spencer was made the director of Smosh Games. It was the best for the both of them because Y/N had an amazing boss and Spencer had a reliable hand to help when needed.

One night, the two were at Spencer’s apartment hanging out and brainstorming gaming video ideas. They had pizza and drinks to help fuel the brainstorming and help keep them awake.

“Okay, what if we do a d&d like game? We get some of the cast that are interested and make a little series off of it.” Y/N suggest as they take a bite of pizza. “That sounds cool, we could try that and see how fans react. I think Damien and Shayne are a forsure yes for that.” Spencer says as he writes down the idea.

“Obviously, I think you could be in it as well.” He looks at them shocked as they smile, “Really? You think the fans could take seeing me that long?” He jokes and Y/N rolls their eyes. “Of course they can, don’t you see all the comments of the fans begging for more Spencer content?” He shrugs and looks at the person across from him.

They notice his eyes and look at him as well, “What’s up, Spence?” He shrugs, “Nothing, just looking at you.” This makes them confused, “Why, is there something on my face?”

“Yeah, actually hang on, let me just.” He leans over and moves his thumb to wipe something off their face but pulls them in and kisses them. The action takes Y/N by surprise but they kiss him back, letting the feelings they had been feeling for a while finally come out.

Spencer is the one to break the kiss. He looks at Y/N with nervous eyes, “If you wanted to kiss me, Spence, all you had to do was ask.” He chuckles and leans back in to kiss them.

 The night changed everything and started a very loving relationship between the two. Originally, they had planned to keep it a secret until they were sure this would be something that lasted a while and wasn’t just a fling.

Well, that was almost two years ago and they just haven’t told anyone. Not their co-workers and not the fans. It hasn’t been easy honestly. It’s been a lot of careful touches and joking flirting with closet make out sessions.

No one has seemed to catch on because the two were always close. They have slowly become more and more touchy but people have brushed it off as them just evolving in their friendship. That was until they had a Anthony on the Smosh Games set.

It was Shayne, Angela, Trevor, Chanse, and Anthony playing Don’t Win Mario Party. Spencer is directing while Y/N is helping get everyone set up and making sure everything is in place.

 “Y/N, can you come look at this for a second?” Alex Tran asks and they walk over quickly. Unknown to them, Spencer watches their every move as they pass by him and over to one of his best friends. This is not missed on Anthony though, he leans over to Chanse. “What’s going on between those two?” Chanse looks at the dude then looks to see where he is looking then laughs.

“Spencer and Y/N? They’re just friends, nothing more, swear. It’d be epic if they were but sadly not.” This makes Anthony confused because he knows that look on Spencer’s face and his thoughts are confirmed even more when Y/N walks by Spencer and he squeezes their hip as they do.

“You guys are so fucking blind.” He mutters to himself as Chanse looks at him confused then looks at Angela and Trevor. “Do you two know if Y/N and Spencer are a thing?”

“No, why?” Trevor asks, “Mr.Tattos over here thinks they are.” That makes Angela cackle. “Chanse, you remember when you first joined. You thought the same thing, it’s just how it is to the unknowing eye. He’s only been back for like a month.” She says, laughing at the thought of the two being together without anyone knowing.

The whole ordeal is soon over as they start shooting. Everything goes great and smoothly as does most shoots with the dream team of Spencer, Alex T, and Y/N. Angela got first and would be wearing the dog cone the next round while Chanse got fourth.

“Okay, that was great everyone! You all did amazing!” Spencer announces as the room cheers. Y/N walks over to him with a sweet smile as people start to slowly leave the set.

“Very good work today, Mr. Director.” He smirks at their words, “You did very well, my favorite PA.” Their cheeks heat up and they look down. Spencer looks around, noticing the set is empty. He puts his hands on their waist, pulling them in for a kiss which Y/N quickly reciprocates.

The innocent kiss lasts longer than both originally intended. They don’t notice the three newest castmates of Smosh hiding behind the set and poking their heads out just enough to see what is happening.

Angela, being Angela, pulls out her phone and takes multiple photos with a proud smile on her face. Chanse and Trevor do the same thing but Trevor forgot to turn his sound off and the sound of a camera click resounds around the empty studio.

“Trevor, what the fuck?!” Angela whisper yells at him, “Turn your sound off!” Chanse chastises but it’s no use as the couple turns around to see the three. Spencer clears his throat and they look up.

“Is there something you three need?” Y/N asks, leaning their head on Spencer’s shoulder.

A chorus of nos, congratulations, and apologies come from the three as they quickly run off the set. “Well, guess that will be all over the office soon.” Y/N says, looking over to their boyfriend.

He shrugs, “We knew it would happen some day, my love.” Y/N playfully shoves him at the cute nickname before pulling him into another kiss. Not caring about the fact their phones are about to go fucking wild.

[sacredsorceress]

Confessions || Peter Quill

pairing: peter quill x reader

summary: you admit to peter how you feel second to his and gamora’s relationship and receive the love declaration of your life

a/n: this is my first time writing for peter and writing in general in a while so pls bear with me! i’m also on vacation rn so this is not proofread at all and i can’t get the word count because I’m on mobile but it’s a blurb!

warnings: gotg spoilers?? angst, fluff, mentions of death, self consciousness, jealousy, arguments

masterlist

You would have been lying if you said you didn’t feel second to Gamora.

When you met Peter Quill on the battleground in your fight against Thanos, his wounds were still fresh. Too fresh. The woman that he had loved had died less than a day before for him, and the presence of another version of her did nothing but prolong the sting.

Though, in the two years since you had met, your relationship had slowly evolved from that of friendship and blossomed into an all consuming love.

It was hard not to lose yourself in it. He was funny, optimistic to a fault, oh-so kind… you could barely hold your head above the water.

Most of the time.

Despite all of that, there remained moments where you reminded yourself of the fact that if matters were different, he’d choose her over you every time. Those thoughts came out of nowhere but when they did- the idea of him holding her the same way he did you, laughing at her jokes the way he did yours- they ate away at you. But, you’d shake them away, close your eyes and find yourself lulling yourself back to sleep in Peter’s arms.

Your feelings, however, were bound to boil over at some point.

You don’t even remember how you found yourself in this fight with Peter, but you were deep into it, shouting at each other as you paced throughout the ship when you said the one sentence that stopped Peter in his tracks.

“I’m sorry I’m not her!”

It was as if the air in the room changed. The tough facade that Peter had been displaying deflated in front of your eyes, your hands balled into fists at your sides and you felt a stinging sensation at the corner of your eyes that hadn’t been there early.

You and Peter had talked about Gamora of course. You had listened to his stories and comforted him during rough nights, but what you had never done was share how you felt as though you were living in her shadow.

He pulled away from you as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“What does that mean?”

It was too late to turn back now.

“It means I’m tired of being your second choice, Peter.” You sighed. “It’s just that… I just love you, Quill. I love you so, so much. But I feel like I’m just this placeholder for her. You spent so long chasing that other version of Gamora when I was here this whole time. And I know its hard, and I know it wasn’t easy, but sometimes I just feel that… that you… that you wish I was her and I just want you to love me, Peter.”

You felt yourself let out a breath you hadn’t even realized that you were holding in and watched as Peter’s face softened.

He hesitantly moved from where he stood and took a step closer to you. When you didn’t step away, Peter stretched his hands out to meet you and laid his palms against your arms.

“How long have you felt this way?”

You avoided his eyes.

“Always.”

It’s like you could see the pang in chest.

You watched him swallow and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Y/n, I will tell you this as many times as you need to hear it,” Peter gripped your arms and met your eyes. “I love you. I love you so fucking much it eats me alive, I swear. And I did love Gamora. I can’t lie about that and I won’t. But that’s in the past, babe. I love you. You’re it for me.”

“Peter,”

“No. Shh.” He cut you off. “Let me give you the most epic, romantic love confession of all time, okay?”

You nodded your head and laughed, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill at the corners of your eyes.

“Okay.”

His hands left your arms as he tugged at his hair and waved them around animatedly.

“Okay good because I love you.” He said. “And not to brag but it’s definitely more than you love me. I let it slide when you call Rocket the captain. I take the blame for you when I know you ate the last of Drax’s Zarg Nuts. I pretend like I don’t hear you telling Mantis every detail of our s-”

“Pete-”

“And I do that because I love you, definitely not because it boosts my ego at all.” Peter stepped back towards you and placed his hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “And I’m so glad that you have such sick powers that are way cooler than anything I can do because that means that… that uh… wow I didn’t think I’d get so tripped up on this.”

The confidence that he had moments ago faltered.

“We both know it means that I’ll die first and thank god honestly because I can’t imagine living without you.”

A silence hung in the air as you both stood in shock. Him, at having admitted it. And you, having learned it for the first time.

“So, yeah.” Peter finished. “I love you. A lot.”

Your right hand slipped out of Peter’s and instead cupped his face in the palm of your hand. Your thumb rubbed against his scruff as your finger tips brushed his hair ever so slightly.

“I can’t imagine living without you either.” You said. “I love you so much. I’m sorry, Pete.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck while his slid around your waist, both of you gripping the other as if your life depended on it.

“Not to be cheesy, but you’re the one for me, okay?” He said. “The only one.”

You smiled, holding him to you tighter.

“You’re the one for me too, Peter.” You sighed. “I love you.”

The two of you stood like that, at peace in the other’s arms for a good while, soaking in the overwhelming love that you both felt. Until-

“You ate my Zarg Nuts?” Drax asked.

“Oh my go-”

“Jesus Christ, man!”

[fandomlurker333]

A lot of people are screaming throuple and just writing the porn (which I get! It’s fun!). But reading them come is not enough for me. lol Toxicity is hot until it’s just damaging and sad for everyone. I want real happiness for these three weirdos.

The end of the film was meant to be the very beginning of something. Just the spark of an idea of them coming back to one another. But the real work starts after. 

And I think it would probably be a step-by-step thing. 

I can see Patrick and Art working to draw closer, with that strong foundation of their childhoods to build off of. Obviously having to resolve the hurt that so much time and distance caused them, and both being willing to forgive. But it’s clear at the end of the film that the door is open for that. They grew up together. There’s a real root of knowing that I think could carry them through the toughest parts early on. Their relationship evolving feels possible.

And Tashi and Art’s marriage would find some breathing room and maybe even some renewed delight for having Patrick present and loving on them both. Kinda seeing each other again through his eyes type thing. Remembering they’re more than who they have been to each other for over a decade (both operating in one mode to survive, never quite enough for each other -- not totally fulfilled and not appreciated in their fullness).

I don’t think Patrick and Tashi would be having sex at this point, but I can see like….tennis dates where they bicker. Just them all learning how to be in each other’s space for extended periods of time and enjoy it.

And maybe Art wouldn’t resent Tashi so much for not being able to give him everything (so much has been taken from her — she just doesn’t have all that much left. She’s been doing her best.) and maybe Tashi would feel more at peace seeing them play each other and knowing Art is really loving tennis, not just playing for her. Connecting with them both in that space and finding joy in tennis again, so it’s not just routine and pain and loss for her.

With that healing happening concurrently (with therapists as support, of course), I think they’d get far. And then once those relationships are more secure, once Art and Tashi learn how they relate to each other when he isn’t winning for her (which would be something new. They don’t know what that looks like yet!) then Patrick and Tashi, having learned way more about themselves in relationship and how to communicate, might start working on their side of the triangle lol. 

I could see them all exploring and working out the intimacy over time — not just sex, but intimacy -- what do they each need and how do they need it? And kink too, the various ways they each want/need to give or receive so they all feel truly satisfied.

And of course they’ll be partners co-parenting. All of them.

I can see Tashi finally grieving her injury, the life she lost, and rediscovering her love of tennis, not to win, but for the joy of being on the court. Her sobs the first time she plays again and it’s not competitively, just a little volley, but it’s like she’s finally alive again. Reminding herself she’s a leader in tennis the space still, that she can build success in that world even without Art’s career, but maybe it looks different. I see a healed Tashi learning to enjoy teaching kids. Taking on more protege. And letting Art and Patrick come help at her tennis camps. 

Art retiring like he said he wanted, running the foundation as Tashi steps back. Realizing that he’s actually pretty good at this business thing and going back to school for a Master’s in nonprofit leadership. Meeting new people. Making friends (that aren’t Patrick). Getting invited to a pottery class and seeing he loves to work with his hands. Playing tennis with Patrick on the weekends.

And my heart for stay-at-home dad Patrick. Who always forgets to change over the laundry and leaves his keys everywhere and puts the babies' shoes on the wrong feet. But my god he loves those kids so goddamn much. Patrick learning to cook for the family and getting really good at it like he does anything he hyper-focuses on. Patrick finally having a home with the two people he loves most and figuring out how to create some routine and stability for himself within that container.

The love in that home. Ugh. I think it’s possible! I think they can do it! It just takes work. 

[thornswoggled]

i think there is a convo to be had about how chises dragon curse - for all of its confusing mechanics - functions less as a plot point and more of a physical manifestation of the character growth chise has yet to undertake, and an unwillingness to reckon with the person she is past the roles she serves in the lives of others

chise takes this curse on when she returns to the auction house, and location is everything here. at its core, this curse is anger, hatred, fear, pain, and a deep desire to return to comfort - destructive emotions that rip apart all it touches. when chise breaks down at the sight of the frightened dragon for sale, elias tells her that those are not her emotions, that she shouldnt let them overtake her - but they are her emotions, that dragon is her, and there was never a possibility that she wouldnt follow it on its flight over london. seeing as things have "worked out" for her til now, chise hasnt yet reckoned with the gravity of what it meant to sell her life away. she hasnt reckoned with the hatred and anger and pain that she still harbors - unfortunately, moving to a quaint little english cottage does not undo a lifetime of neglect. her attempts to fix those around her, philomela being a prime example, will only get her so far. eventually she will have to look within, and i dont think shes done more than dip her toes in. "this is my past, these sad things happened to me, now things are better" is not the end of her self-reflection. now that we know the past she carries with her, what does all of that mean for her? what kind of person is she? who will she become?

im thinking too about this recurring theme of "atavism." its a key feature in tambs dragons, who are able to evolve at will to suit their needs, and yori also mentions it when noting chises appearance. atavism is the reoccurrence of dormant or ancestral traits, and you could make the argument that its also functioning metaphorically here. evolving to suit the world around you, past burdens and trauma reemerging when its unexpected or inconvenient... my thoughts on this are loose right now

theres this concept that we've been getting, too, that chises dragon curse is something temporary. arc 1 left us with the idea that her two curses must remain in balance, in perpetuity, for her to survive. but theres this new interpretation of it being something that serves her for now, but she might shed it once it fulfills its purpose

continuing with the idea of the dragon curse as a sort of... idk, ptsd metaphor, what are these two examples from ch 98 implying? that her negative emotions will serve her when it comes time? that this sort of baggage cant be exorcised away? framing the dragon curse as temporary broaches the possibility of chise one day being cured of it, but what does that mean? and should she be?

(of course, the 'future chise' we see in ch 1 doesnt have a visible left hand, but is that meant to be a literal glimpse into the future, anyway? theres also a dragon made of vines behind her in that panel, didya notice it?)

i mentioned the auction house at the beginning because i feel that if chise sheds the dragon curse, it will be in much the same way she attained it. chise has been told that she is free, she is loved, she has told her "mother" that shes moving on with her life. but all of this is just the beginning - and lets be real, i dont think elias is putting her into therapy. joseph is the only character i can think of who is truly, earnestly pushing chise toward the difficult self-reflection she needs. im excited to see what he says when she taps into her "cursed fury"

this is why im so excited that we are being told explicitly, time and again, that things are about to go really bad for chise. tamb is such a masterwork of character writing, it is so incredibly emotionally intelligent and gives so much grace and patience to its characters. i have no doubt that chises character arc is going to go in such a spectacular direction

[atzaurora]

╰┈➤ ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴜʀᴇᴅ

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] "sᥕᥲᥣᥣ᥆ᥕ."

❥ 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓: Seonghwa, Hongjoong

➤ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seonghwa x hongjoong

➤ 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆: imagine (smut)

➤ 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: dating

.ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ: 18+/smut/suggestive content, MDNI!!!, head, swallowing, hard face fcking, m receiving, gagging

➤ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: inspiration || Just Hongjoong going rough on Seonghwa's throat...

➤ 𝒘/𝒄: 675

➤ 𝒂/𝒏: my first time writing a member x member fic *⁠\⁠0⁠/⁠* I contemplated a lot if I wanted to do those fics in general but honestly idc and just wrote what I wanted :P it's very short but oh well...enjoyyy

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]!

[𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕] here!

about me, my writings, request rules [𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆]!

The door slammed shut in an instant, Hongjoong walking closely behind Seonghwa as he guided him by resting his hand on Hwa's lower back.

"Come on, in there we go," Hongjoong's voice was low with a raspy edge to it, making Seonghwa even more aroused.

The elder one of the two, has had no patience all day, constantly teasing Hongjoong while he worked. Of course Jjoong wanted him as much but still, they were at work.

At some point he had whispered in Seonghwa's ear, telling him to wait and that he would take him the second they got home. And he held his promise.

Hongjoong opened the door to their shared bedroom, pushing Seonghwa backwards till the back of his legs hit the bed frame. He pushed him down onto the mattress, climbing on top of him.

Hongjoong's lips smashed against Seonghwa's, grabbing and pulling on his hair, kissing him hungrily.

"God, you were such a tease all day," he grunted against Hwa's lips, a string of saliva connecting their mouths. Seonghwa only nodded, his hands planted on Jjoong's waist, holding him in a firm grip as he sat there on top of him.

"Does my pretty boy really want to get fucked so desperately, huh?," Hongjoong's eyes darkened as he looked down at Seonghwa's pleading face. "Yes, please, I— fuck, I've been wanting you all day," he responded immediately, watching as his boyfriend smirked down at him.

"Mhm, I see...well, I suppose we need to get these off then..." Hongjoong tugged on his clothes. They hadn't even taken the time to get out of their coats and shoes when they walked inside their house, too caught up with Seonghwa's needy behaviour.

Jjoong continued to tug on the shirt, manoeuvring it out of the waistband of the jeans Seonghwa was wearing all day. He pulls it all the way up, over the head, tossing the fabric somewhere next to the bed.

Hongjoong licked his lips at the sight, the view of the bare skin evolving an immediate reaction from his lower abdomen. Seonghwa bit his lip suggestively, reaching for his pants and opening them. "Pull them off, love. Don't hesitate," Hongjoong encouraged him, watching him with so much lust in his eyes.

Hwa did as he said, pulling his pants, along with his boxers down, leaving not a single piece of fabric on his skin. "Hongjoong~," he moaned teasingly, making a desperate face and knowing exactly it would turn his boyfriend on so damn much.

"Yes, baby~ fuck— that's right," Jjoong blabbered, focusing on Seonghwa's body while pulling off his own clothes. "I'm gonna fuck you so much, you won't see straight anymore." Once Hongjoong's clothes were all detached, he moved Seonghwa so he was on all fours. He himself got off the bed, standing right in front of Hwa's mouth with his shaft.

Without a warning Hongjoong grabbed Seonghwa's face, opening his jaw and shoving his hard cock in. Seonghwa whimpered with sensation, feeling how Jjoong's tip hit the back of his throat.

Hongjoong began to thrust into Seonghwa, face fucking him with deep and harsh thrusts, making him a moaning and sweating mess. "That's it, baby, take it all the way in. Just like you wanted to all day," he reminded Seonghwa of how he'd been acting all day long.

His hands moved along Hongjoong's thighs, gripping them harder with each thrust to keep his body upright. Seonghwa could feel Hongjoong's dick twitch in his mouth.

"Fuck~ I'm gonna cum," Hongjoong groaned, grabbing the back of Seonghwa's head to keep him in place. After one last thrust he pushed his head further on his cock, making Seonghwa gag and his cum running down the back of his boyfriend's throat.

"Swallow." Hongjoong looked him in the eye as he swallowed his load, looking all fucked out. Seonghwa stuck his tongue out, showing he swallowed and earning a passionate kiss back from Hongjoong.

Seonghwa pulled Hongjoong back onto the bed with him, not breaking the kiss as he moved his hands lower. "Round 2?"

[yukidragon]

Okay so I'm trying really hard to get into SWWSDJ but there's so much lore not e en in the games I feel very much in over my head lol. Can you like...give a rundown? Or at least point me in the direction of where to start? I wanna write fic about the clown man damn it lol

I understand what you mean. When you fist enter into a fandom it can be pretty daunting, especially if you don't get a lot of the references and information that the bulk of the fandom takes as common knowledge.

A lot of the information we have about the lore for SWWSDJ comes from the various demos and teasers. However, the lore is being updated as the game is in development, as evidenced by the differences in each of the demos. Things have changed since its initial demo release, and will likely continue to change until the full game is released. SWWSDJ is very much a work in progress.

The most obvious place to start of course is the latest demo. You can check out a public release of it on the SnaccPop Studios Patreon over here.

There's a release that came after this one with a bit more content, but you'll have to become a member if you want to see it for yourself. Personally I think it's worth it for all the goodies that are regularly released on the patreon. If you've signed up, I highly recommend checking it out.

After that, I think it's good to look at the official webpages for SWWSDJ, including the official tumblr over on @sunny-day-jack-official. The tumblr page answers quite a number of questions from the fans, as well as some teasers. They've even made a listing of most of the other official webpages in this post here.

Another page that teases some juicy lore is the official profiles over on Toyhouse. Want to know the canon heights of the love interests and their birthdays? This is the place to get that info.

The official twitter page has been a place to pick up bits of lore since the beginning. There's plenty of teasers, profiles, and it gives a good sense of how things have evolved during development.

There are some teasers that are floating around posted by the original creator and others working on the project, but the rule of thumb is to take these with a pinch of salt. They're very good to inspire ideas and lore crafting, but if it's not on an official page like the twitter, tumblr, patreon, etc. then it's technically not canon.

Speaking of technically not canon, if you're interested in seeing my deep dives into my theories about the lore, AU crafting, and just gushing about the series in general, feel free to check out my rambles. I've done a lot of thinking about this series, and my opinions keep evolving as new developments release. I've also done quite a lot of writing as well.

I hope this can be helpful to get you started, and that you enjoy your time in this fandom. If you have more specific questions, feel free to toss them into my inbox. I might take a while to answer, but I appreciate every ask sent my way. I look forward to seeing your stories, as well as the stories of everyone else in this lovely fandom.💖

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[libraryspectre]

I wanted to talk about the Black Parade uniforms and it kind of turned into an entire essay. My ideas on the intention behind each costume and their cohesion as a group really evolved over the course of writing this, and I think it brought into focus a lot of things I knew subconsciously but hadn't articulated. I also noticed a lot of details I had never seen before. This has futher convinced me that 1) costume design and what you can say with it is really fascinating and 2) this is S-tier costume design of all time. And it's really long so I'm putting the rest under the cut.

What I would have loved is a Weezer-style picture of the five of them standing side by side, full bodies visible, but unfortunately that doesn't seem to exist. They're either covering each other up, or posed in such a way that details aren't visible or cut is hard to compare, so I'll have to provide a variety of visuals. This weirdly blurry poster is the closest thing I could find to a Weezer picture, so take them in as a group and refer back as necessary. I want to start by saying, obviously, that they look amazing both individually and as a set. "Dark marching band of death" is a really fun concept that is very well executed. But this isn't their first time doing a look as a group - think back to Revenge for a minute, when they really started to think about their costuming as a band. Gerard has talked about how then, they were kind of closing ranks against the vitriol coming their way. They needed to feel like a team, a gang, and dressed like one. I think some of this mentality has carried over into the Black Parade uniforms - they're less defensive, (there's no bulletproof vests), but in taking on new, nameless identities they have removed themselves as individuals from the equation, which is protective in its own way. What's left are stage personas, and the more you look the more you see that these were designed by someone who is very familiar with the history of the band and how each member presents themselves on stage. It's absolutely genius costume design, because when everyone is in uniform, the little differences are more noticable and tell you so much about the intention behind each variation.

Before we really start, I have to confess that I have no history in costuming or even a lot of familiarity with marching or military bands. I can only say I find costuming interesting, so I've read a little about it, and I went to high school in America and almost all my friends were in marching band. Someone who is more educated in these things could probably give more specific insights and have a better vocabulary to talk about it, but do not underestimate me. I am deeply obsessed with MCR and got A's in English, so let's find some meaning in symbolism! But please remember that with all art, there is no one interpretation. And remember going forward that these costumes were designed by Colleen Atwood, based on sketches she was given by Gerard, so there's no telling what elements were brought in by her and what elements Gerard had planned originally. If anyone has sources on that, PLEASE let me know because I'm very curious about the design process.

Also, I'll be using the uniforms as they appear in the WTTBP video as the standard, with acknowledgements toward variations seen in posters and the FLW video. It's worth noting that in many live performances they wore different, less unique jackets, and often forewent the pants for black jeans. This is almost certainly because they were easier to perform in and they didn't want to subject the originals to the sweat and rowdiness of regular shows. Ok, here we go! Here are some pics to refer back to throughout.

Starting with the band as a whole, I want to point out two things: first, marching bands evolved from military bands. The individual costumes vary in how "military" they look, but you can definitely see the influence when you look at them as a set. I imagine they leaned into that a bit because of the military elements on the record - the suggestion in Mama that the patient was a soldier, maybe even a war criminal. We also know they've done military aesthetics before, in The Ghost of You music video, and that the band was formed in response to 9/11. Suffice to say, the military is on the mind, and this is a continuation of that.

They also look a bit like skeletons. Obviously they would occasionally do the face paint, but the uniforms themselves suggest a ribcage with the horizontal silver lines, and at some angles the stripes on the pants also really contribute to the image. I know most people have already realized this, but I wanted to point it out explicitly because it took me an embarassingly long time to see it.

Alright, I'm gonna talk about them individually now, going from my personal least to most favorite. Taste aside, they're all individually really interesting.

5. Bob

(I can't find another good Bob picture, just scroll up to the blurry one)

It's not just because I don't like Bob, I genuinely like this one much less than all the others. It might be because it's less tailored - the others look much sharper, he looks almost rumpled in comparison. The lose fit might be because as a drummer, he needed better range of movement, but I'm not a drummer so I don't know. The cut of his jacket looks kind of naval to me, which is interesting. His stripes are also very minimal compared to the others. Overall, his looks the least like it's part of a set. I don't necessarily think they meant to set him apart, but maybe they did, considering he's the only non-original member (I'm counting Frank as an original member) and the only one not from New Jersey (which, I only point out because they ALWAYS point that out to people who mention they're a Jersey band. We're from Jersey, Bob is from Chicago.) Maybe it was a subconscious thing, or maybe as the drummer his costume was designed to make the most of what would be visible sitting and partially obscured by the drum kit. It does have a very dramatic collar. That's probably also part of the reason they gave him a more distinctive haircut for this - I'm not gonna talk about hair much, but it's worth mentioning. Overall, I don't have a ton to say about Bob because I don't think of him much (sorry, but not really).

4. Frank

Frank's is really interesting. His is the least traditional-looking, which is why it's here in the ranking, but I like it and I think there's a good reason for that. Those stripes on the sleeve are a really strong look, and the material of the silver has kind of a tarnished/dappled look you can see better in other photos. I've seen people say it's a subtle camo pattern, but I'm honestly not sure - I think he's supposed to look a little less new and shiny. The blockiness of it widens him and gives him a lot of presence that might be lost if he was dressed more like the others, and it compliments his performance style well. That's particularly important in the WTTBP video - on that float, he simply doesn't have room to be as wild and energetic as his standard performance was at the time, so this uniform helps him stand out and draw attention to what thrashing he is able to do. As far as bucking tradition, he also is the only one without shoulder tabs (those little loops). There's something funny about that - those tabs are meant to hold loops and eupalletes that would signify rank, placement, or achievement, which apparently you could not give to Frank if you tried. I think this lack of traditionality is reflective of Frank's more punk sensibilities, having come up in the Jersey scene. His playing style evolved over time as he and Ray influenced each other, but at the start he was very much their punk guitarist and coming up in that scene continued to influence how he conducted himself as a musician. I think this uniform marks him as a non-conformist even within the group.

He also has that patch with a red cross on the sleeve, the only bit of color on any of them. I don't know what to make of that, maybe it's just for the Catholic vibes.

Honestly, Frank's feels the most like what people would expect from an "emo" marching band uniform. Especially considering the poster, where he's found a hole to stick his thumb through. I don't think he's wearing it in the video, but in that poster he has this belt with some kind of weapon?? Maybe?? We get it, he's a dangerous little man.

3. Mikey

Mikey's uniform is by far the most military - it's not just the medal, it's also the cut of the jacket. And he's the only one with a fun little belt, which helps keep the silhouette look nice and tailored even though the jacket flares a little at the waist. We all know the medal is a reference to his death in The Ghost of You video (there's no way they didn't know we would make that connection) and it wouldn't surprise me if the rest of his uniform looks more military because it was built around that idea. But also consider Mikey's stage presence at the time - due to his discomfort on stage, he used to be really stoic, standing in the back, getting the job done with little showmanship. I think that presentation lends itself well to a classic military figure. Mikey is also pretty thin, and the long jacket and it's strong, solid construction keeps him from looking too Victorian-orphan waifish (especially with how pale they all are), and more like a dead soldier boy.

Additionally, Mikey's costume leaning so hard into the military side helps them look more military as a group. It keeps the association in your mind when you look at the others. Also, he's wearing a little necklace here, which I've never noticed before, is he wearing that in the videos?? I think it's an anchor, which is fun considering he died on a beach.

2. Gerard

Yes, Gerard's is #2 in my ranking. I'm sorry, I might have a slight bias knocking it down from #1. But maybe not, let me defend myself when I get there. Anyway, Gerard's is the most classically marching band, which makes sense considering he's the frontperson. In fact, he has one of those braided loops on his shoulder we talked about earlier, demonstrating.....something, it seems to vary a lot, but we're probably meant to think leadership. He's not wearing it the WTTBP video, but it's there in Famous Last Words. He also has that fancy little star thing on the shoulder, which definitely seems to suggest rank. Otherwise, his uniform is very basic. He's the template that the others' uniforms are variations of. And it's a great look! He's also got nice big buttons compared to the others, three whole rows of them, which is a nice touch to make it look a liiiiittle more feminine. Because, of course, the back of the jacket is corseted, in a genious stroke of gender that puts the entire outfit in a new context. I think this is a good example of how Gerard likes to play with androgony by balancing masc and femme elements. The cut of his jacket makes his shoulders look wide and his waist narrow, but not so narrow it looks terribly feminine (just a little, taken on its own). A lot of this is achieved by the piping - notice how on Bob, Mikey, and Frank, the top row of piping (I might be using that word wrong but let's go with it. I'm talking about the silver stuff across the chest) is pretty much the same length as the bottom row? On Gerard, they start out wide way up on his shoulders and get progressively narrower at the waist. It's still a mostly masculine silhouette, but then you have the counter balance of the big buttons and his little white pixie cut, both of which lean just a little further toward femme than masc. It's an androgynous look that leans toward masc as a whole, until he turns around and, boom, corseted back. Showstopping. He also had those black leather gloves that give some nice formality, and maybe a touch of impersonality. They make it so that when he's in full uniform, the only skin you can see is that of his face. They're like an edgier version of the usual plain white marching band gloves.

1. Ray

Going purely by aesthetics, Ray's is my favorite. It's the fancy one, most obviously distinct by the flourishes around the buttons on his jacket. He Mikey are the only ones with pure silver shoulder loops, and Ray has more silver piping on his jacket than the others. In some pictures he's wearing this really ornate knotted tassle thing? You can see it in one of the group pictures above. He isn't wearing it in any of the videos, which makes sense as it could be really annoying while playing. The cut of his jacket at the bottom also looks formal to me, but I'm not sure why. Overall, the ornanamentation could be a reflection of his playing style - the same caveat here applies to Frank, in that they influenced each other through their parnership as guitarists, (and Ray has a lot of influences from different genres), but at the start he was their metal guitarist, and the guitars in metal are often complicated and showy. And he's their soloist, they need to show him off a little.

Additionally, the construction here is giving him an absolutely wild silohette. Like Gerard, the piping on his jacket gets progressively narrower to suggest a smaller waist, but without the really long stripes at the top to make the shoulders look broader. Those vertical lines across the front add to the effect because they're curved inward - which is interesting, because everyone else's uniforms are composed of entirely straight lines and sharp angles. And his jacket is cut REALLY high on the side. I can't tell if Ray's pants are more high-waisted than the others, or if it just looks that way because of the cut of the jacket. You see the stripe of the pants go all the way up his hip, and since he's already tall with long legs, it really accentuates that. It's hard to tell, but I think his pants are even a little more form-fitting than the others. The other day I saw people commenting on a gif of Ray in the WTTBP video about how they never noticed how long his legs are - this is why!

We talk about how part of what makes Ray such a compelling performer is how he moves, and I think this costume was designed to compliment fluid motion. The tailoring and curves of the piping avoid making him look too rigid or blocky, as a marching band uniform could easily do, and the high cut of the jacket lets the line of his legs continue uninterrupted. Honestly, this is a favorite look for Raygirls (gender neutral) for a reason - I think they knew exactly what they were doing putting him in a pretty, well-tailored uniform that accentuates his movement. (Caveat here that I'm a Raygirl (gn) so I'm definitely biased, and they all look great in their uniforms, but I do think Ray's is.....uniquely flattering, and I don't think it was an accident).

Conclusions

So now that we've talked about all of them, I think we have some interesting contrasts to make. Gerard and Mikey both have very classic looks, but Gerard's is more marching band and Mikey's is more military. Mikey and Bob both have very military looks, but Mikey's has a much more solid construction. Gerard and Ray are both on the marching band side of the spectrum, but Gerard's is classic while Ray's is ornate. My favorite contrast is between the guitarists - Frank's is blocky and rigid and tarnished, Ray's is curved and fluid and shiny.

The interplay between similarity and contrast is what makes this so compelling as a group costume - just by looking you can tell who's the leader, who's the tragic figure, who's the outcast, who's the rebel, who's being spotlit.

In closing, thank you Colleen Atwood and Gerard Way for designing these and the rest of the band for wearing them, I will never get tired of looking at them.

[enviedear]

this is an anakin request because i’m hyper fixating over him coming back in ashoka (spoiler alert)!

i was wondering if you would be down to write a fic based around friends to lovers. but like there is a whole admission thing brought on by jealousy.

backstory: reader & anakin trained together under obi-wan in the jedi temple, growing close as friends. but then he sees padme again and falls in love, when the reader is already in love with him. and when he says he’s gonna marry padme, reader looses it and admits their feelings.

i’m sorry this is so long & so specific but it’s been rotting in my brain

ily x

this ask really spoke to me as a certified jealous girl

okay so i'm not sure if this is perfect but i had a vision and went with it, so i hope you like it <3 this is angsty, so warnings for that. and also warning that reader is a jealous jealous jealous girl.

wc— 0.8k |tw— anger, jealousy, running away from your problems, unresolved ending, delulu reader <3

aggravation flares throughout the entirety of your being at the sight before you. anakin, your anakin, with his arms around Senator amidala.

he had mentioned her, far more than any normal amount, in the days leading up to seeing her again. and it wasn't such a bother at first.

you'd laugh off his worried nature at the idea of her presence. you'd ignore how loud his thoughts were whenever she was brought up. you had thought it nothing more than a crush, an interest, an idea.

he didn't even know her. not like you knew him.

and yet, here they were in a passionate embrace, completely immersed in each other and oblivious to your presence.

you clear your throat and watch them stumble away from eachother. anakin's eyes slowly meet yours for a split second and before he has the chance to explain himself, you're darting away.

fury. that's what you feel. seeing him cling onto her in the way you've ached desperately for him to want you, is torturous. you can't decide who deserves more of your wrath— yourself, for being foolishly devoted to a fellow jedi, or anakin, for not comprehending your obvious feelings.

as you run, you can feel him trailing you, can hear him calling out for you— but you continue to run. trying to find anywhere to hide in the damned naboo retreat.

you take a sharp left turn, only to be confronted with his towering figure.

"go away." your voice is dripping with vitrol.

anakin disregards your plea, instead grasping hold of your arm and yanking you into an isolated hallway, "please, y/n, don't be mad at me. i can't help it, i love her."

you fight against him and wrench your arm away from him, "you're insolent, skywalker. you don't love her. you just like to break rules."

he takes a step away from you in shock, "why are you being this way?" when you don't reply, he continues, "i know it's wrong but i do love her. i plan to marry her, here. i wanted you there— i want you to be there."

his words pierce through your soul like shards of glass, shattering your sanity until nothing remains but fragments of pain and anguish.

"marry her?" you can barely get the words out, suddenly feeling breathless.

your anger has evolved into something much worse – something injured and broken apart irrevocably.

anakin nods, his eyes softening as he looks at you. "yes, i love her that much," he says, almost pleading with you to understand.

you feel a pang in your chest as his words sink in. of course anakin was going to fall for someone; how could you ever expect him not to? but you so desperately wanted it to be you.

"i won't be there," you say, barely above a whisper. "i'm sorry."

anakin's face falls and it takes all of your willpower not to reach out and touch him, the way you're so used to. it would only make things worse.

"why?" he questions, eyes searching your own.

"because i—" you trail off for a moment before continuing more forcefully, "because i can't watch the person i love marry someone else."

it feels too real, admitting those feelings out loud to him. hearing yourself verbalize something that has been buried away for years. from the mind of the young girl who used to go easy on him when sparring, to the women in front of him today.

anakin's face falls and a heavy silence stretches between them, until he finally speaks again, voice laced with tenderness. "i didn't know, y/n."

you can feel the tears welling in your eyes but you bite them back and force out a bitter laugh, "of course you didn't," it's all you can say.

you turn away, unable to bear looking upon him anymore. you struggle against your emotions, trying to keep them at bay. how hard it is being so close to something that you can never have.

"i'm sorry," he says softly, his hand hovering over your shoulder before dropping back down. "i didn't mean for it to come out this way."

you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. "it's fine," you say, though there's no conviction in your voice.

anakin steps closer once more and takes hold of your hands gently in his own. you can feel the warmth radiating off him as he speaks.

"but i want you to know that you'll always be important to me y/n." he pauses for a moment before continuing with renewed determination. "and if things were different…if i got to choose who i loved…" his gaze meets yours intensely, locking onto them like iron bars holding fastened shut on an unbreakable door.

you let him give your hands a squeeze before pulling away, "but you can't, believe me, i understand."

and with that you turn from him, leaving him alone.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Dear Master Rolan

Based on a prompt by @faerunsbest, an AU in which Amelie is not "Tav" and instead went on the proposed trip to Calimshan to find a husband. She begins a correspondence with Rolan after the events of the game. SFW.

Dear Master Rolan,

I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Lady Amelie Wildheart, and I am writing to you to inquire if there are any tomes on wild magic you would recommend. As I’m sure you can guess, I’m a wild magic sorcerer. Most of my life, the bursts of wild magic that come from me are normally “adorable” according to my mother, Countess Luci Wildheart. However, they have on the rare occasion caused varying degrees of harm, much to my immense sadness and heartbreak. Perhaps there is some research or theory if wild magic bursts can be controlled in some way or prevent more deadly reactions.

Thank you so much for your time.

Sincerely,

Lady Amelie Wildheart

Rolan held the letter to his chest and sighed. If he was having an awful day (like today), then he would reread letters from Amelie.

No, you fool. Lady Amelie. She is a lady.

And my friend.

And I’ve fallen for her even though we’ve never met.

Letting out a frustrated growl, he folded the letter and put it back in its envelope. He then opened a locked drawer in his desk and placed the letter inside. Despite his mood, he could not resist smiling. In the past several months, his correspondence with her had only grown and deepened since her first letter. Rolan spent no small amount of time scouring Ramazith’s Tower for any and all tomes on wild magic, eagerly writing her a reply. What began as polite soon evolved into friendship which then changed into—

No.

She said herself she’s on a tour to Calimshan to hopefully find love. Her mother’s idea apparently after several failed attempts at arranging a marriage for her. How…how…can she still be unattached? She is wonderful and kind, thoughtful and funny, sweet with hints of spice.

No.

She calls me “dear friend.”

But…

He hastily searched for the envelope containing her latest letter.

Dear Rolan,

I hope this letter finds you well. I didn’t manage to find a copy of “Wild Magic: A Reconsideration.” However, I will be able to personally borrow it from you in a few weeks, because I’m finally coming home!

I’m so excited to be back in the Gate and see how the reconstruction is going (and maybe lend a mage hand or two to help). I can’t wait to see Mum and my friends.

I can’t wait to finally see you in person and meet Cal and Lia! Would you mind if I came by Ramazith’s Tower after I’ve settled in and have tea? If not, you are very much welcome at my home or Wildheart Manor.

Of course, please do not feel that we are obliged to do so. I know you are a very busy man with running the tower and shop as well as your other duties as Master of Ramazith’s Tower.

But if you would indulge a dear friend, then I would be most happy.

Yours,

Amelie

“Yours. How I wish I was yours.” He traced her signature with a clawed finger, frowning. “I would—”

“Rolan! Rolaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!” Lia’s voice called from the other side of his study door. “There’s someone here asking for you!”

I don’t have any appointments or meetings…do I?

“Who?”

“She said she’s here for Wild Magic: A Reconsideration.”

Rolan, Master of Ramazith’s Tower, nearly knocked over a sniggering Lia as he rushed out of his study and down the stairs to the main level of the shop.

Is it…

Could it be?

Her?

Then he remembered that he only knew Amelie was a half-elf and nothing else about her appearance.

“Excuse me, are you Rolan? The Master of Ramazith’s Tower?”

He turned to see a woman (a half-elf!!!!) with the most beautiful golden eyes staring back at him.

“Yes.”

Why is my heart pounding? Why does my tongue feel so clumsy and full in my mouth? Why do I feel sweaty? I JUST BATHED THIS MORNING.

The woman smiled. “Oh Rolan, it’s so lovely to see you. I’m Amelie…”

He fairly certain she was still speaking but could not make out the words.

Good gods.

She is stunning.

Gold eyes that shine with warmth. Copper colored hair. Freckles! Such lovely freckles. A sweet smile. Perfect, very kissable lips…NO.

She’s got a nice bosom…NO.

No.

Calm yourself, damn you!

“Rolan?”

He blinked. “Yes! Forgive me, I…it’s been…”

Amelie frowned and wrung her hands. “Oh. If it’s a bad time, then I can return another day. You see, I arrived home yesterday and wanted to see you, but—”

Acting on I’m not entirely sure what, he took her hands in his. “You are welcome here any day, any time, my lady. I would be most pleased if you stayed. Please.” Her hands are so soft and covered in more freckles. Who knew I was exchanging letters with a goddess?

“Really?” she asked with more a little hope. “I don’t want to impose, and I once again must ask for your forgiveness for coming unannounced.”

Please don’t say come.

He cleared his throat but before he could speak, she did.

“You see, Rolan…there was a reason why I came to see you and not simply because of a book.” Her words spilled out of her like a babbling brook, something Rolan found profoundly adorable. “I—”

Giving her hands a squeeze, he spoke softly, “Let us speak in my study. In private, my lady.”

Away from customers but mainly Cal and Lia, who are staring and giggling.

Fuck.

A light blush painted the half-elf’s cheeks. “Oh. Yes. Of course. Please, lead the way.”

As Rolan offered his arm as they ascended to the second floor, Lia elbowed her brother.

“How much do you want to bet that they’re both so awkward they don’t confess?” she laughed.

Cal rolled his eyes. “You have got to be kidding. Rolan has an entire speech ready, which I know because he insisted, I listen to him while he ‘practiced.’”

Trying not to laugh more, Lia glanced to the second floor and watched as Rolan and Amelie entered his study. “Don’t mess this up, big brother…”

[siriusleee]

I see your post about fic request but I'm too shy to comment on the post 🥲😭🙏🏼

I'm just gonna drop the idea of Ghost (since I like how you write him) fluff themed, perhaps kinda suggestive? 👀

Ghost and F!Character already in relationship (almost 2 years perhaps), but both are not really into physical touch, especially Ghost

But a wild idea struck the F!character wanted touch his (bare) hands out of curiosity, and of course she ask for his consent. At first he's hesitate but he wanted to make efforts making their relationship 'closer' than usual? 👁👁

I'm not a writer so I'm gonna let your handle the rest Ma'am ✨🧎🏻‍♀️

Teach me how to write plis

paring: simon riley x f!reader

"And the girls that walk downtown are like some stars that fell to earth They like the veins in my arms, the story in my hurt” — "Condemned" by Zach Bryan

Everything with Simon Riley runs slowly. It’s never been something that’s bothered you but -

And there is always a but.

Occasionally you catch a glimpse of the skin between his gloves and the hem of his shirt. The black tattoos that swirl there, far enough away that you can’t make out what they are. You never needed to touch him to love him, but sometimes it’s all you want.

“Do you know,” you say between bites of your toast, crumbs falling onto your shirt, “that the tendon there in your wrist is something you evolved to have.”

“What?”

You run your finger up your own wrist, showing him what you’re talking about.

“It’s a thing you evolved to have. It’s to make throwing spears easier.”

“Knives too?”

“Probably.”

The conversation leaves something in the air. Some untold want you want that the two of you hesitate to speak aloud. You watch the way he pulls the sleeves of his jacket down farther to hide his skin from view. It’s fucking Puritan - the resolve he has around you and touching. You’ve never begged for his touch - any move too quick and he would disappear. Too etherial to be grasped.

But -

And there is always a fucking but.

Sometimes you’re hungry.

It’s natural - the urge to have skin to skin contact. And the two years you’ve spent in the opposite orbit of Simon, you’ve lacked anything that borders on physical touch. 

So you wait until he’s been home for a week, and there is more Simon than Ghost written into the wrinkles of his face. You try not to catch him off guard, but the way his mug falls heavily to the counter you know that you have.

“Do you not - do you not want to?” 

It’s hard to keep the nearly there hurt out of your voice. You know that if he says no, you’ll drop the entire conversation. But you want to know that whatever hunger inside you wants to explore him more is inside of him too. Simon watches you from over his black mask, hands held neatly behind his back. A parade rest while his brain tries to catch up to the entire situation.

“It’ll make you happy?”

You try very hard to keep the excitement from your voice as you answer in the affirmative. 

Simon’s fingers shake when he lets you lead him to the bedroom. His palms are burning hot through the thick material of his gloves. 

Simon lowers himself down at the edge of the bed; still gripping your hand tightly. 

You keep yourself far enough away that you aren’t crowding him, but his knees still cage yours in. 

“Are you sure Simon? If you don’t want to-”

His voice, a low rumble in his chest, cuts you off before you can give him an out.

“I already take so much from you.”

You don’t need him to ask to elaborate: he’s always thought that he’s ruined so much of your life. A real wedding. A real family. A real sense of intimacy. 

“That’s not true Simon - I have never needed more than this. And we don’t have to do this.”

Simon has always been a doer, not a speaker. So you barely breath as he pulls his gloves off, fingers bare to you. They lay loose on his thighs, tendons and veins sticking out against his pale skin. You reach your own out towards him.

Simon makes the first move, tracing his calloused fingertips across the sensitive skin on the top of your hands. His touch is so light for such a large man it causes you to shiver. At the movement, Simon pulls back, worry written in his brow.

“It’s fine Si.”

Skittish, he takes your hand again. He works to memorize the lines - the scar you got when you were 10 and you grabbed your mom’s curling iron. The whorls and curls of your fingerprints. And when he’s had his fill, he turns his hands over for you.

There is a lifetime written into his hands. You try to take it in the best you can: the warmth and roughness. The callouses that come from a trigger, and the ones that come from putting together the furniture that fills the house. You want to ask about a scar that runs from one side of his palm to the other, but you know that tonight is not the night.

And when he shivers too hard at the feeling of your thumb on a scar, you draw back - letting his hands slide out of yours. 

The moment hangs in the air around the two of you, Simon’s eyes searching your face for some hint of regret, of disgust at the feeling of his skin against yours. But he doesn’t find it; instead he’s met with a sharper hunger than you’ve felt before. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, hands still warm from his grip.

“M’fine.”

You let the hunger dangle between the two of you; a silent invitation for another evening. 

Teach me how to write plis

the best way to learn is to use what is sometime's called mentor texts. literally find someone who's writing you like and try to emulate it. then pick someone who's writing you don't like and do the same. repeat with different forms.

you will eventually begin to develop your own voice.

[shegeekery]

Reparenting Loki

I want to talk about a dynamic in the Loki/Mobius relationship (in the Loki TV-series) that I've seen touched on but not really discussed in depth.

Note to Lokius-lovers: nothing I say here in any way precludes a healthy romantic relationship. They're both consenting adults, after all, and this wasn't a formal therapist-client relationship.

There's a technique in therapy called "reparenting". The idea is that trauma and behaviors caused by bad parenting can be addressed to some extent if the therapist assumes the role of a "good parent".

I think we can all agree that the "All-Father" was crap as an actual father. Odin knew that Loki took after him even more than Thor did, but many of those shared traits were things that he tried to hide from everyone, while Thor better represented the image he wanted to project. The result was a cruel favoritism, which was picked up by Thor and the rest of the Asgardians. Frigga's love and support wasn't enough to counteract that cruelty, particularly in a strongly patriarchal society like Asgard.

Side note (because I'm that kind of geek): there were so many similarities between Odin and Loki (Odin's friend and blood-brother rather than his son) in the old Norse myths that some scholars have suggested that Loki was at one point simply an aspect of Odin. There's also evidence that the stories as they came down to us were manipulated by the Christians who committed them to writing to shoehorn Loki into something more like the Christian Devil.

Anyway, getting back to our guys... Within the context of the TVA, Mobius represented an authority figure to Loki, who had a long history of rebelling against (or betraying) authority for obvious reasons.

I think the first turning point in the relationship for Loki was:

Loki: I am smart!

Mobius: I know. Loki is rarely left speechless, but his only response to Mobius's simple affirmation was a very un-Loki-like "Okay..." He didn't know how to respond because he wasn't used to that kind of thing, particularly from someone who had power over him. It happened again with:

Loki: A villain.

Mobius: That's not how I see it.

The dynamic between these two people throughout Season 1 was like that. Mobius's genuine love (whether you read it as romantic, platonic, fatherly, brotherly, or a mix of any or all of these) for and non-judgmental acceptance of Loki was apparent from the start, but of course Loki's experiences during his very long lifetime made it nearly impossible for him to trust that until Mobius's actions convinced him that it was real. Learning to trust Mobius also allowed Loki to see himself in a new light.

For his part, Mobius consistently modeled what a good father would have been: loving and accepting, yes, but still able to apply "tough love" when that was warranted. Mobius didn't put Loki into the bad-memory loop to punish him because he was angry (though he was angry, or at least a bit hurt and disappointed). He was just trying to force Loki to acknowledge a truth about himself so that they could move forward — and it worked!

Mobius's instincts and experience as an actual father to two boys, one reasonably well-behaved and the other a mischievous troublemaker, served him well in this, even if he didn't consciously remember his life on the timeline.

Mobius all but confirmed this when he said:

Mobius:  I see a scared little boy, shivering in the cold... 

It's also significant that when Loki brought this up later, he called it "patronizing", which we usually use to mean "condescending", but can also mean "supporting" and has its root in the Latin word "pater" (father).

I see the hug in episode 1-5 as a sign that the reparenting had taken hold, and that Loki, while not completely healed (it would take a lot more than that!), was at least in a place where he could trust someone, accept love/friendship, and think beyond his own wants and needs.

By Season 2, the relationship between the two men was evolving into one of equals, but even then Loki still occasionally looked to Mobius for guidance. Mobius's approval had become important to him. When Loki witnessed the firm but compassionate way in which Don dealt with two boys who were so like himself and Thor (despite being a stressed-out single dad rather than a god-king with tremendous resources at his disposal), he had to have seen that this was at the core of who Mobius was. Moreover, Loki — and any viewers who had similarly survived a traumatic childhood full of emotional abuse and neglect — probably guessed that Don himself was a survivor who was determined to see to it that his boys would never have to deal with that. If that was the case, then Mobius didn't just see his own son in Loki. He saw himself and couldn't help but empathize.

Don wasn't perfect. His frustration with his younger son was very evident, but Loki, observing, could see the love that lay under it. He may even have thought of times when Odin was driven to anger by Loki's actions and realized that the anger didn't necessarily mean that Odin didn't really love him. Learning to forgive what can be forgiven is another aspect of recovering from childhood trauma.

It's worth remembering that Mobius knew Loki in much the same way we do. We got to see the things that Loki never let anybody see: the fear, the vulnerability, the pain, the longing, and the sadness. (Doesn't hurt that TH can turn a simple reaction shot into a freakin' soliloquy!) The difference is that, while we only get to see the highlights (and lowlights) of Loki's life, Mobius had access to all of it and he had centuries to study it.

Mobius literally knew Loki better than anyone else in (or out) of the multiverse. How could he not love him? And for Loki, knowing that somebody who knew him that well genuinely cared so much for him (same with Sylvie, who understood him in ways that only another Loki could and vice-versa) had to have shaken him to his core and made him rethink a lot of things. The fact that it was Mobius to whom Loki turned in episode 2.6 when he thought he might have to kill Sylvie shows how much he still looked up to Mobius in many ways.

This was a show about redemption, yes, but also about healing from childhood trauma. They did an amazing job with it.

[viviennevermillion]

Relationship Headcanons

notes: this was supposed to have 6 more characters but I decided to post it now and do the rest later. Third piece of writing today and I feel like I'm running on gasoline for humans.

contains: character x gn!reader, relationship headcanons

characters included: alhaitham, childe

warnings: none

Alhaitham:

Alhaitham is, unintentionally, hard to get and according to Kaveh even harder to want. Nevertheless, Alhaitham actually makes for a very great partner if you have captured his heart. 

To start with, he’s very upfront with you. He sees no point in concealing the way he feels or dragging out the process of confessing to you to unnecessary lengths. Of course, he’s not going to straight up walk up to you and tell you how he feels, but once he notices he has fallen in love with you, when the next opportunity presents itself he asks you out. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime? As a date?”, he gives you that same warm smile he had when he told you he’d see you at the celebratory banquet that Nilou had organized and his tone stays polite but his care still shows just as much. 

Alhaitham wasn’t particularly nervous. He had known you for a while now and he wouldn’t have fallen for you if he had taken you for someone who’d give him reason to be anxious about what was intended to be a nice evening and the start of something good. He’s also rational and has a good sense of self-care; enough to be able to move on fast if you two wouldn’t work out; knowing it’d be the best for him. However, this also makes him unafraid of doing his best to make your first date as enjoyable for you as possible; hoping you’d stay by his side for a long time. Even if you’re nervous, Alhaitham can handle this and makes sure you warm up to the idea of being on a date with him fast and become more comfortable around him. He’s a calm presence, ready to reassure you that he’s considered you a good friend for quite a while now and that he will continue to do so even if your relationship evolves into something else. 

Alhaitham dresses casually but still elegantly for your first date, handing you a rose when you meet him.

For as much as he never cared about sugar-coating the truth, Alhaitham is very observant and has quite a good amount of emotional intelligence; probably more than people usually give him credit for. So he’s quick to pick up on what pace you’d prefer for the development of your relationship; whether you’re fine with a goodnight kiss after the two of you part or whether you’d like to give things more time. He adapts easily to your preferences and boundaries. 

Alhaitham is very honest with you; if he wants to be in a relationship with you; you’ll know at the latest by the end of your first date.

Dates with Alhaitham are usually spent having dinner or a nice picnic in a place he thought you might enjoy. You discuss all kinds of topics from his research as a scholar to your own passions to the future of Sumeru. Being able to hold a thoughtful and in-depth conversation with you for quite a while is one of the things that made him seek out your company over and over again. 

When he feels like the time is right, Alhaitham asks you if you’d like to be his partner. He’s very straightforward and calm, holding your hand and gently caressing your knuckles with his thumb as he waits for your answer. When you tell him that you’d love to, a smile finds its way onto his face and he gently pulls you in for a kiss.

A relationship with Alhaitham starts off with a long discussion about what’s important to you both, your boundaries and plans for the future. He makes sure not to overwhelm you, but before Alhaitham commits to you he wants to make sure the two of you are compatible and that both of you can expect the relationship to be fulfilling for you.

Alhaitham himself doesn’t need a lot of affection or attention, but he enjoys it whenever he’s on the receiving end. He makes sure to give you the affection and love you need, in the ways that work best for you. 

He never leaves for work without giving you a goodbye kiss and he’s happy to pull you into his arms at the end of a stressful day. 

When he sees things he remembers you liked, he often gets you a little gift to see your smile. 

When looking back on your time together, what makes Alhaitham smile the most are those little idle moments that make him feel like you’ve been together for a century. The way he kisses your forehead gently and pats your head when you achieve something you’re proud of. The times you’ve both spent cooking dinner together in his kitchen, helping each other out and talking about your day. Walking the streets of Sumeru; holding hands as you select groceries to buy or look at the products the vendors are selling; picking up lunch at the tavern on the way. How Alhaitham would be there for all your big moments to support you and you would for him in turn; walking home together at the end of the day as the street lights illuminate Alhaithams fond expression when he looks at you and reminisces about how far you had come together. You don’t even notice the way he’s looking at you as your attention is directed towards the stars in the night sky, wondering what else the future holds in store for both of you.

Loving Alhaitham feels like he’s always somewhat unreachable before you get together; and like you’ve been married for 30 years, but you still consider him your best friend, after you’ve started dating. Loving Alhaitham is a series of idle moments; of knowing another person is your home that you can rest at when the sun sets, no matter what the day throws at you.

You know in Alhaitham you have found a partner who will always support you through hard times, albeit in his own way. What he lacks in emotional support he makes up for with solutions and acts of service. When you need comfort, he simply holds you for as long as you need it and then suggests doing something together to take your mind off things. He’d read a book to you or take a walk with you, hoping you’d feel better soon enough. 

Arguments happen very rarely but when they do, they usually get resolved with civil discussion and compromises, as long as you’re ready to talk things out. Alhaitham remains calm on the outside, focusing on sorting things out with you. 

Alhaitham is an aquired taste but he’s easy to love if you can live with his many quirks and find a way to make it work together. It takes a long time for him to fall in love but when he does, he intends to make it last.

Childe:

When Childe falls in love with you, he becomes quite flirty. He always makes sure not to overstep any lines, though. He doesn’t hold back on the compliments either. If he thinks you look beautiful today or he appreciates your passion for something, he’ll tell you.

You might think he’s just like that because the flirty demeanor fits a lot with his typical laid-back personality and the way he often seems carefree but with time you notice that you’re really the only person he flirts with. And that he genuinely seems to like you.

His first time asking you out is when he challenges you into a fight. Considering he’s in love with you, he goes a little easy on you but he won’t just let you win either. He’s like “the loser has to buy the other dinner” so regardless of who wins the fight, you end up in a small tavern with Childe sitting across from you and it’s starting to dawn on you that this was intended to be a date.

“I quite like you, you know?”, he smiles at you, gently linking his fingers with yours once he notices you seem to be enjoying the date so far. He’ll be honest with you about the fact that he likes you, since he prefers to know the answers to his questions right away and doesn’t want to be left second-guessing about whether he has a shot with you.

Dates with Childe are never boring. Of course he keeps the serious harbinger stuff a secret, but he has no problem telling you about a lot of the funnier moments he experienced while being part of the Fatui. He tells you about the harbinger banquets, about his colleague’s quirks, the fights he had...

He knows he lives quite the dangerous life so he’d understand if you wanted to take a step back but he would always make sure to protect you from harm. 

Once you’re officially together, Childe introduces you to his family. He brings you over for dinner and you learn that he’s already told them all about you. You can tell he’s a little awkward about it, since he doesn’t know how the evening is gonna go but his family loves you and you two often play together with his younger siblings. He sometimes likes to playfully tease them, so they’re delighted when you chuck a snowball at your boyfriend instead, taking their side. Childe acts offended, but enjoys how you’re making his younger siblings laugh. He’s willing to take a few snowball hits for that.

But just as happy as spending time with both you and his family makes him, he’s glad once he gets to be alone with you again as well. He’ll ask you about your impressions of his siblings and is relieved when you enjoyed the day just as much as he did. “They can be quite a handful sometimes, but they’re good kids. I suppose I’m not one to talk either....I was probably the worst”, he chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist as you both look into the mirror. “We’re pretty cute together, don’t you think?”, he smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek, “you’re almost as adorable as me.” This results in you chucking a pillow at him and ends in a playful fight followed up with some exhausted kisses. 

What Childe values most about your relationship is the understanding and acceptance he receives from you. That you know what he’s like, know his past and the uglier parts of his work; and still choose to be with him and love him. In turn, he tries to keep you out of the dangerous waters he thrives in and make your life together as normal as possible.

He’d love to fight anyone who causes trouble for you. If you hold him back, he respects that. Though he always tries to impress you with his fighting skills either way. Whenever he gets stronger, he first looks towards your reaction. He adores when you appreciate him for his battle prowess. 

He’d definitely take you ice-fishing. When you agree to go with him, he’s like “wow, that’s going to be great...just the two of us in the cold night...” He makes sure you’re warm throughout the whole thing. Snezhnaya’s snowy landscapes can be brutal if you’re unprepared and Childe wants you to have fun, not freeze to death. He’ll warm you up himself if necessary. He makes a little campfire for you and befitting for the occasion, the two of you grill the fish he caught last time over the fire. “Just you wait, I’m going to catch us a whole sea-dragon this time!”, he boasts as he prepares the fishing rod, “I’ll wrestle that thing if I have to. I’m getting all fired up just thinking about it.” He hears you laugh. “This is a lake. I doubt you’re going to find a sea-dragon in here.” “Let a man dream, would you!” Of course he lets you try to catch something yourself plenty of times and he gets a little bit pouty if you actually catch a bigger fish than him. But you can soothe him with a soft kiss to his lips. 

As much as Childe tends to get in (and out) of trouble frequently and seems quite enthusiastic and motivated most of the time, in contrast he actually prefers for your affection to be more relaxing and gentle. He loves holding you in his arms whenever he has some spare time and he enjoys kisses without hurry or expectations. His favorite are slow and long kisses, just indulging you for a while and being able to relax and melt into your touch. Though he absolutely does not mind to be surprised with a kiss as well. Catch him off guard and it always manages to make him smile.

Overall, Childe readily accepts you into his family and tries to keep you away from the harbinger business. He values the bond you share a lot. He likes to let loose in battle and on missions and enjoys coming home to you at the end of the day and slow down; relaxing while holding you in his arms.