#i really was starting to think i'd never get this written

[hollowed-theory-hall]

sometimes I feel like we’re in the trenches as HJP fans, like wydm he gets flak from the marauder fandom for being mid compared to Jily, Marauders & Co, if not a convenient receptacle for only his parents’ traits, and he’s also getting bashed in the Next Gen fandom for being a bad dad? (again, fingers point to his hotheadedness or impulsive nature, like, what a lazy and unnuanced take but i digress) nevermind he’s undergone plenty flanderization in the general HP fandom!

Harry shaping up to be a terrible parent is plainly ooc for him imo, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually read Cursed Child, so I’m very interested in your thoughts on this!

I never read Cursed Child either, at least not in full. I read a summary + a few lines of dialogue and I felt that I didn't need to torture myself further with it.

Like, I mentioned in the past, a lot of fandoms have this tendency to completely change and mischaracterize main characters, usually for the worse. I think this tendency comes from a place of simplifications. A simplified character is easier to engage with and to place in different fanon scenarios so characters are stripped of their nuance and complexity to serve fanon. And there is an appeal in these simplified versions. They can be good for comedy, crack, and less serious stuff, but when you want to write really angsty shit, I find the lack of nuance disappointing more often than not.

Especially when it comes to Harry, who is often misunderstood by people who claim to love him. As I mentioned in the past, I don't think Harry is hot-headed the way most of the fandom thinks he is. I will die on the hill of Harry's explosive anger being a trauma response because the boy can't get a break.

In the case of Harry, I think it goes beyond just simplification though.

I used to read a lot of HP fic (stopped a few years ago) and Harry was a different character in each "genre" of fics. Like, depending on who he was paired with or the tropes of the fic, you'd get a completely different character who calls himself "Harry Potter".

It's becouse Harry isn't really written as Harry in a lot of fics, not really. See the story is about him. He's the main character who has the most interesting tale. The series is literally named after him. And everyone sees it. And fans want to write a story that won't work with Harry as a character, but they want the backstory — they want to write about a Boy Who Lived that isn't Harry — so we get OCs with the name "Harry Potter" even if I'd never call any of them Harry because they are not him. His story and name are used to make an OC the center of the story, essentially.

Now, I don't mind when people do this. People can do whatever, I'm just not gonna read or engage with it. What bothers me is when people try to pass a Harry who very much is an OC in Harry's skin (although their appearance is also often not that of book Harry, so it's not even the same skin. A pet peeve of mine is when Harry is drawn with brown hair, it just miffs me personally) as the canon one.

And I can somewhat understand where this mistake started, and like with a lot of things I'm not a fan of in this fandom — I blame the movies.

Movie Harry is passive and bland. I think he's a badly written character. But there is a reason for this huge downgrade in Harry's characterization between book and movie.

Movie!Harry was written to be an audience self-insert. Audience self-insert characters are more common in films than in books. In books, the POV characters have to have a personality to be interesting and to be able to carry the book with their internal monologue. They gotta be someone you want to read about. But in film, you can get away with a main character that has no personality at all. And that's what they did to Harry. They turned him into a character the movie audience could project whatever they wanted onto. And I think this was on purpose. So, of course, the audience projected whatever they wanted onto the bland template that is movie!Harry because that's what the movies were written to allow.

So, I think this is part of what caused a lot of the discrepancies in Harry's character. I mean, I'm sure there are a bunch of other factors, and I'm no fandom expert, but, I feel like this self-insert aspect of movie!Harry had a part in what happened to his character in the fandom.

(The negative effect movie!Ron on the portrayal of his character in fanon is similar. Though, this downgrade happened for different reasons called "the director(s) seemed to have shipped Harmony and hated Ron").

[fandomofhappiness]

Aizawa Shouta & Shinsou Hitoshi Father-Son Dynamic Big Recomendation Fic List for starters and not

Hi everyone! After quite a long time, I finally post my Recommendation Fic List (the crowning glory of my stay in the MHA fandom) of Aizawa and Shinsou Father-Son Dynamic.

I always start reading fanfiction before I even finished read the original, what does that says about me?

I became familiar with a fairly common theory that Shinsou Hitoshi is an orphan with a rather dread past, which, of course, activated a huge curiosity in me. I tried to analyze the trend, and I will say that it's quite clear: People were infected with the idea, where abused Hitoshi was somehow saved by Aizawa. And so was I. I've read for almost hundread of any combinations of this trend and NOW I finally ready to present my Fic List.

Attention. I will attach UNFINISHED fanfics, but which actively (or not so) updated, because they are masterpieces.

WARNING! I do not attach stories which contain:

ships (except Erasermic and 2-3 ShinKami but they are not MAIN)

alpha/beta/omega thing

too fluffy and too family-oriented fics (there will be ones, but I don't want to make them a centre of my list

I cut Rec List on different genre sections (read: dynamics) and add fanfics from the most angst ones to fluffy ones so you can easily pick what you like most ;)

So, let's start!

fandomofhappiness's personal top

You Want It Darker by Ms_Chunks Genres: Shinsou Has Family, Gore and Murder, Detective, Mentor and Parental Aizawa Status: FINISHED (533,808 words) foh's comment: Highly interesting! Shinsou here is not represented as perfect kid or downtrodden teenager, he is the way I liked him in anime and manga: he bites, hisses, snaps, makes sarcastic jokes and does not allow anyone hurt him. Aizawa and Shinsou very slowly gain trust from each other, but that makes their relationship seem sincere, and not caricatured. Read for the detective, the non-orthodox view of the Hitoshi family and Erasermic. READ THE TAGS and be aware!

Fundamental Theorem of Heroics by NightowlRobin Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Vigilante Shinsou, Heavy Angst, Parental Aizawa Status: UNFINISHED but updates weekly (more 700k words) foh's comment: Truly FUNDAMENTAL work of all Shinsou Hitoshi stories on ao3. I'd so like to confess my true respect and love to the NightowlRobin for their most mind-blowing plot and detailising. (You will probably meet Aizawa only after 10 chapters. And it will take even longer until Hitoshi and him properly meet.) This is an epochal work that will make you believe in Hitoshi's true character and make you cry of his story because it's really brutal. I think this is the favourite work of everyone who liked Shinsou with all their hearts.

To Turn A Man Into A Stone by tanli Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Angst, Mentor Aizawa Status: FINISHED (15,128 words) foh's: comment: Even months after I read this work, I look back on it and think: the author did an 11/10 job. Just so you understand: this is the best example of how I see the relationship between Aizawa and Shinsou. It is the apotheosis of sincerity and affection. It is a test of will, deep introspection and acceptance. It performed so well that it seemed to me that the author wrote a chapter for the manga. Damn, the author did a lot better than the mangaka. If the previous two works were not so high-quality and grandiose, I would've put this one at the very top of my list.

If Lies Had A Flavor by scooter3scooter Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Erasermic Adopt Shinsou, Heavy Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eating Disorders Status: FINISHED (10,003 words) foh's comment: Perhaps one of the many angst works written by scooter3scooter, which I have reread more than once or even twice. This work is special to me, because I have never seen such an interesting look at the consequences of Shinsou's stay in an orphanage. Complex and emotional work. It is truly an honour to get acquainted with such a vast problem of humanity as eating disorder through this fanfic.

crybaby by Brachydios Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Erasermic Help Shinsou, Heavy Angst & Eventual Comfort, Canon Divergence Status: FINISHED (51,219 words) foh's comment: I've read this work more times than I can remember. Brachydios came into my life with this incredible work and tore me apart from the inside. I believe in every detail they describe, every character move is justified. I want to sympathize with Shinsou over and over again. One of the best Quirk-Shenanigans trope that has brought 1017 people to tears - be the next one. The performance is 100 of 10.

How It Goes by Ibelieveinahappilyeverafter Genres: Foster Kid Shinsou, Erasermic Adopt Shinsou, Heavy Angst & Eventual Comfort Status: FINISHED (20,021 words) foh's comment: This is one of the best written Foster Kid Shinsou stories ever. Hitoshi's adaptation, his thoughts and feelings, his panic, his fear of going back to the orphanage are described in a deep sincere way here. It's a heartbreaking story about the fear of punishment, taking consenquences and family. It was very personal for me and I hope you get a lot emotions after reading it.

Faith by slightlycrunchy Genres: Mentor and Parental Aizawa, Anxious Shinsou, Hurt/Comfort, School Situation Status: FINISHED (2,651 words) foh's comment: This work is also quite personal choice of mine. I wouldn't say it's grandiose, but it's very emotional for me. For the kid who worries about grades all their life, who is afraid to make a mistake, who is afraid to lose everything because of one mistake and who doesn't know how to accept their failures. I ask you to read this if my words resonate in your soul. This is the truth that we all need to hear.

Absolute Tops

Point Blank by Cobbiest foh's rec: an interesting, intriguing and beautifully written Shinsou's journey to become a part of Erasermic Family (and hero)

Deathworlders to the extreme! by AquaStarDark foh's rec: that's the funniest, most captivating and rocking people-are-space-orcs thing that I've read, really worths reading

I Would Understand by deafmic foh's rec: that is the first things first to read if you're new here, but tnh I wasn't ready for this work and dropped it once or twice before I finally made it and read it, it's really really good, but I wouldn't recommended as first-to-read.

Back to the Nest by Mags_Pie foh's rec: such a sweet thing about children and their parents. I was smiling so much.

Everything is different (since you've been around) by Plasmapause foh's rec: and THIS is how I see the best written relationship between Shinsou & Aizawa AND Shinsou & Yamada, they're building trust and becoming family very slowly BUT you really believe in these life situations that happen to Hitoshi, it is very sincere and touchy work.

It's not always easy. by ethgri foh's rec: and THIS is the HEAVIEST work I've read and really recommend it. The emotions are real and naked, I practically felt the same pain. Please be ready for heart journey, this is a brutal masterpiece.

Herding Cats by Robbirdthe8th (FictionalFeather) foh's rec: the COOLEST detective wotk, have nothing to say - just read it.

Margay by Oceanbreeze7 foh's rec: one of best ever written Shinsou.

QueNouilleCroustillante (the author of AUs that you won't forget: you may know theirs Bright Stars, but I beg you to read all of their works)

deafmic (you guys do know deafmic, that's deafmic's section for Aizawa and Shinsou, it's all too fucking good)

Mentorship Dynamics

More than a cry by Assassin Bug

Stubborn choices by Madaver

Not In The Job Description by ididntneedanewfandom (prettyvk)

Voices by SquirrelWriter

mind break by baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

The Lilac Garden by Mars_is_Gone

the night was a gelid, bitter, and biting thing by sonrissa

Countdown by Mags_Pie

polished doubt, fake sentiment by s_beth

Consequences by 22FluffyTheSpider123

Legacy by the_crownless_queen

Aizawa's Warmth by LoveableMink

Hitoshi Shinsou's Not-So-Smart Training Method by maarvehl

Keep Him Safe by Mags_Pie

stealing is bad? by borlios

Learning Curve by Cyborg_Franky

Play Along by eillo

from one foot to the other by ohwickedsoul

Family Dynamics

So this section I prefer to divide in two subsections:

fanfics where Shinsou is heavely traumatised and learns how to handle it with Eraser(-mic) help (Section A)

fanfics where Shinsou traumatises world around him and still learns how to handle it (Section B)

P.S.: section B comes first, because I love how authors perform Shinsou. They captured his audacity, intelligence and rebelliousness, he's learning from his traumas but does it shitty, and that is really interesting.

Family Dynamics Section B:

When the Darkness Fades by BlueCats

Growing Up (is harder than it looks) by BlueCats

Concerning (Some-)Things by Tododorkey (ApolloBlackwood)

The Beginning of Always by meow_z_z_z

First Day of School by Jyxnie

Split Lip; Silver Tongue by CreamcheeseBagel

Unforgettable by deafmic

A Lesson in Vengeance by Smurfee

somewhere in my heart of hearts (i knew it all along) by bototyelenol

Call to Eraserhead by sukeruton

surviving on elevated cortisol and spilt coffee by Crykea

How to Win the Sports Festival: A Step by Step Guide by mhwright

Hitoshi Shinsou's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Days by Princeliest

Tight-Lipped Belief by Robbirdthe8th (FictionalFeather)

House of the Rising Sun by caprisunontherocks

Family Dynamics Section A:

Just A Phone Call Away by odymcbea

Twist My Words by CreamcheeseBagel

Take Care (of me) by scooter3scooter

it’s in the way he- by scooter3scooter

masterpiece of nature by Brachydios

spare the rod by Brachydios

Not Today (Tomorrow it May Change) by deafmic

You're an Alien? by Badum_tsh

Pardon My Presence by ShiDreamin

Everything Will Be A-Okay by nikouji

Lucky Cat by deafmic

The Misadventures of the Yamazawa Family by ComplicatedSquishy101

Home Alone by fecklessphilanderer

a voice your body jumps to callin' out your name by sparrowsAce, wander_wren

Last (First) Adventure by deafmic

You've Got A Heart As Loud As Lions by Robbirdthe8th (FictionalFeather) (warning! this work contains sexual abuse. I felt it was a difficult decision to include this here, as it is an incredibly complex topic and also incredibly important. This work is written with such respect and love, with such sensitivity, I cannot even begin to express it in words. Please, if this topic is disturbing and triggering to you, please be careful to read it.)

This concludes my top list. I finished reading about two months ago and plan to return soon and see what new and good is being written along this Father-Son trope. If you have any other cool works that are not presented here and you want to share them, send them into comments. I would be very glad! Thank you for attention!

[pizza-soup]

Hey! Just wanted to do an update for the new year!

Sooo, what have I been up to? A lot actually!

First off, I'd like to introduce a new member to my household, her name is Lucky, and I found her on an urbex trip last year as a tiny thing, and looked how gorgeous she is as an adult!

Those markings are pretty neat, huh? She's looks just like a Maneki Neko, all that's missing is a red ribbon and koban coin. She has such a sweet, affectionate personality, she is surprisingly very open to strangers giving her attention, and she loves water! Yeah, she plays in water! She has zero fear of it and likes playing with the sink faucet or laying on my shoulders when I soaking in the bath. I think it stems from me taking her out to the garden with me in the summer when I was watering the plants, the puddles cooled her off.

Speaking of gardening, I have two new trees. Ginkgos! My great aunt had one in her front yard, these are the babies. Since it's way too cold to plant them directly into the ground, they're currently in pots. I want them to grow just a bit larger before transplanting them.

And yes, that's Sol posing by the new trees! Look how handsome he is now! I'm glad he and his sister took in Lucky as an honorable sibling, I think she'd be very lonely otherwise. Stella has also grown up to be beautiful, and likes sharing her bed with Lucky. Orion doesn't like her though. Lol but he tolerates her so long as she doesn't get too close.

My health is better, thankfully. While I think I'll always have hypotension now, my doctor and I found a setup that works to keep it at bay. I have to watch my activity level and learn to rest properly (exercise can cause BP to drop fast), and stay hydrated with electrolytes daily. I have to set reminders though, since Im so bad at remembering. So far I haven't had any relapses for 7 months. I've also oddly lost a lot of weight, I thought it was suspicious, but my doctor said I'm actually at my BMI and the weight loss was gradual. My records show it was within a normal time range. Idk it felt so sudden to ME, but maybe I didn't notice it until recently. Eh. My sense of time isn't the best. Whatever the case, I was told to keep doing whatever I'm doing.

Work is... just as weird as always! Lol to the point it's kind of not weird for me anymore, I've gotten used to the strangeness of it. My brother however never got used to it. He actually quit working for the labs, not because it scared him off but because he finally got his major finished and he is working in an observatory down south. I'm proud of him! Space has always been a big interest for him, and the space science here in NM is growing!

As for creating, I've been busy writing two fanfics on Ao3. One is a Pokemon story, Come What May, and another is an alternate take on the classic Disney film, The Little Mermaid, called Candle on the Water. They're pretty long, my Pokemon fic is currently topping 20 chapters! I'd really appreciate if more people read them. Give em a little love. It's not the best work ever, but I'm kinda proud of them. They were written when I was struggling with a lot of self doubt and mild Imposter Syndrome. I'm working on being more gentle to myself and not letting perfectionism sabotage me or stop me from creating, and I'm kinda seeing that effort pay off bit by bit.

I've also been doing some song covers. I'm not sure if I'm confident in sharing those yet, but I've gotten a lot of encouragement from my family and my brother's friend who has been letting me borrow his music studio for recording sessions. Maybe I'll post one song if it's requested. I have three covers so far and they're all Evanescence. XD

Its been a very peaceful time for me, I got a raise last November and it's been nice. I've been treating myself to stationery and home decor. I splurged a bit and got two gaming devices from Anbernic, and have been modding my 3DSXL. Because screw gaming companies and their paywalling/microtransactions. It's time we start actually owning our games again, including media like music and movies.

I think this year is going to focus on retro media for me. CDs, DVDs, cassettes and vinyls. I've been rediscovering my collection in the garage and learning to maintain/fix my devices. Because while I do enjoy my modern media, I like the thought of having offline backups should I not have access to it later.

And my old school stuff takes me back to my summer days in school when I couldn't wait to get home to play my Gameboy while listening to my CDs, reading comics, or doodle and write short stories in my notebooks, or make zines with my friends. That might be something to revisit this summer.

I hope everything has been going well for you all, and if not, I hope it will soon. I may just return to this year, but probably gradually. I missed you all, and I miss sharing bits of my life here with you.

Take care! 💕

[kunareads]

i think i like your girlfriend!

satoru x reader x utahime

you love your boyfriend, you really do. but what are you supposed to do when you start to wonder how your best friend tastes?

wc: 10.3k (it was 11k originally so)

this is just pining and porn. it’s also the first thing i’ve ever written

content: smut!!! fluff, pining, switch!reader, fingering, oral (f! and m! receiving), threesome, choking, unprotected piv sex

18+ please i block children <3

+++

she took my spot in the bed, the space in your head that i used to

it starts with a laugh. not just any laugh. it's the kind that makes the air feel lighter, a sound that lingers long after the moment has passed. a laugh you've loved for what feels like forever. satoru's laugh, directed at one of utahime's sharp jabs, catches your attention across the training field.

you observe your boyfriend and your friend from your seat under a tree. your students are taking a break from sparring, their chatter blending into the background like gentle white noise. the sun is unrelenting, casting everything in a golden haze. he looks so effortlessly beautiful, but so does she.

it's not something you mean to dwell on. satoru is always laughing, always flirting, always basking in the attention of anyone willing to play along with him. utahime doesn't just play along. she challenges him, meeting his energy with a rare poise that keeps him on his toes. you love their back and forth. you love that he's met his match in her quiet defiance. you've always loved it.

and yet.

there's something about the way she holds herself, how her voice cuts through the air like a blade but never feels harsh. her confidence isn't loud because it doesn't need to be. she's magnetic. that's all it is. she's magnetic, and you're caught in her pull.

but even as you rationalize it, you can't ignore the ache in your chest — a whisper of something you're not ready to name. your gaze lingers on the sharp line of her jaw, the curve of her lips. you wonder what it would be like to get close to her, closer than you've been.

you don't even notice you've been staring until satoru turns his head toward you. you can't see his eyes, but you know him well enough. he looks like he caught you doing something bad (and maybe he did). panic flares in your chest, and you scramble to school your expression into something neutral. he holds your gaze for a moment longer than necessary before sending you a smirk so stupidly him that you want to melt.

he's annoying. and you love him. but even as you roll your eyes and shift your attention back to your students, you feel the weight of utahime's presence pulling you in.

+++

"you're quiet tonight," satoru hums. his voice carries that infuriatingly naughty edge. his arm slips around your waist as he pulls you close, pressing soft kisses to your cheek.

"just tired," you say, your voice barely there. it's not entirely untrue. the weight of your shifting emotions is exhausting.

his lips pause against your temple, and his voice drops to that conspiratorial tone he reserves for you. "it's her, isn't it?"

you tense in his arms, turning just enough to meet his stare. his expression is gentle, curious, not accusatory. you can't hide anything from him.

"you've always liked girls," he continues, his lips curving into a knowing smile. "you've always been awful at hiding it. besides, the two of you have been joined at the hip since high school."

"okay," you admit with a harsh exhale. "maybe. but it's not like i've thought about her that way before. or anyone that way since we've been together."

he laughs, and the sound soothes you. "you know i'd support you, right? whatever happens. just want you to be happy." his fingers trace delicate patterns on your hip. "you should talk to her, if that's what you want."

his words settle over you like a balm, easing the pressure in your chest. he holds you close, his touch steady and familiar, and something shifts. his hand trails upward, fingers ghosting along your ribs.

"let me get you out of your head, baby," he murmurs against your jaw.

before you can ask what he means, he flips you onto your back in one fluid motion. satoru's grin is wicked as he pins your wrists above your head with one hand. his hair falls into his eyes, catching the light filtering through your curtains, and he looks annoyingly perfect.

"you're pretty when you're overthinking," he teases. he leans down to catch your lips in a slow, consuming kiss. the weight of his body against yours makes you feel grounded. satoru has always been your anchor.

but you can't help but push back a little. "you think you're irresistible, don't you?" you ask him, words muffled against his lips.

he pulls back just enough to grin down at you, the devilish glimmer in his eyes making your heart squeeze. "i'm irresistible, but so is she, huh?"

"satoru—" you start, your voice caught between a protest and a plea. he silences you with another kiss, more profound this time.

"say my name like that again," he teases, lips brushing yours. he presses a series of open-mouthed kisses under your jaw.

"you're so full of yourself," you manage.

he smirks when you shiver at his teeth on your skin. "only when you're around to humble me."

he moves away unexpectedly, and you frown. you watch as he props himself against the headboard. you move to straddle him, but he turns you around instead, pulling your back against his chest.

your breath catches when he pushes your hair to the side. his lips find the back of your neck, and one hand wraps around your torso while the other slides up your inner thigh.

he traces slow circles over your panties, grinning against your neck as your hips rise to meet his touch. his free hand presses down on your waist. his name falls from your lips, and his grip tightens. "stay still for me. wanna make you feel good."

you whimper in response, and he lets his hand slip beneath your underwear to find you already desperate for him.

"needed me this bad, baby?" he asks, spreading your slick over your folds. you nod softly, eyes closed. "need an answer." his fingers pause, drawing out a needy whine from you.

"yes, satoru."

he starts to circle your clit torturously slow until you become impatient, arching your back and reaching backward to run your fingers through his hair.

"tell me what you want, princess."

"please put your fingers inside me, 'toru."

"since you asked so nicely," he purrs.

he presses against your entrance a bit, then slides one finger inside you, drawing out a soft moan. "satoru," you whine. and fuck, he thinks that sound would put anyone's favorite song to shame.

"feel good?" he asks, and you nod at him. he curls his finger and starts a rhythm, the wet sounds filling the room as his other hand finds your breast.

"more, please," you breathe.

he chuckles. "anything for you, baby." a second finger joins the first, his thrusts deeper now. his kisses trail your neck as his breathing grows heavy against your ear.

you moan, starting to push back against the hand that's holding your hip down. "it's so good," you tell him, breathless and needy.

he groans, grip tightening enough to bruise. you're dripping, your body is hot to the touch, and you have the prettiest look on your face. he's enamored by you.

"gonna cum for me?" he asks. you already know what he wants.

"please, 'toru, please. wanna cum for you, please—" you're close, trembling as you fight to stay still for him.

"do it, baby. cum for me."

you break with a sob, hips fighting against his grip as bliss overwhelms you, his name falling from your lips repeatedly while he kisses the side of your face. he doesn't stop, not through your orgasm, not even as you collapse against him, panting and whining.

only when you're spent does he withdraw his fingers, bringing them to your lips. "open, princess," he commands softly, watching you.

you do as you're told. he pushes his fingers past your lips, sighing contentedly as you clean them up for him.

"you're so fucking sexy," he whispers with a small laugh, kissing your shoulder. the smile you flash around his fingers makes him wish he could take a picture.

he guides you onto your back, finding your lips again with gentle kisses. you wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close.

he can't help but marvel at how flawless you are, how blessed he feels. he knows you feel guilty, but he can't find it in himself to be jealous, not when it's utahime.

truthfully, he might have seen this coming before you did. you three, with yuki, have been inseparable since your teenage years, finding your way in the jujutsu world together.

you and utahime are different, of course. you're loud and reckless where she's reserved. but something about her complexity reminds him of you. he holds you to his chest and hums contentedly.

"thank you," you breathe, and he grins, meeting your eyes.

"what for, baby?"

"for understanding. i was worried you wouldn't, and i—" he cuts you off with a quick kiss.

"you're thinking too much again."

you pout. "i know. can't help it."

"well, try," he smirks, getting up. you feel your eyelids getting heavy, and you're nearly asleep when he returns with a warm washcloth. he gently cleans between your thighs, and you feel shy despite this having been routine for the two of you for years.

"you've been overthinking all day," he says quietly, brushing hair from your face. "you don't have to do this alone."

"huh?"

"i can help you tell her," he offers, knowing you want to handle it yourself but unable to stop himself from trying to support you.

you blush. "you're ridiculous," you mumble, but it's as close to agreement as he'll get.

as you fall asleep, satoru's warmth makes you brave. your thoughts of utahime still make you shiver, but it's not just nerves anymore. satoru kisses your temple as he holds you closer. "get some sleep, baby."

+++

i'm not gonna pretend, think i like your girlfriend

it's sunday afternoon, nearly a week later, and you feel somewhat back to normal. your shared apartment with satoru is alive with chatter, the kind of easy atmosphere that feels like a reward after a week of missions, teaching, and everything in between. satoru is in his element, weaving stories with dramatic gestures, his laughter infectious.

choso sits cross-legged on the floor, drink in hand and watching the antics with a faint smirk. nanami is at the dining table, flipping through mission reports with the occasional eye roll. yuki lounges on the floor by the coffee table, scrolling through her phone with the casual disinterest you've come to associate with her over the years.

utahime is perched on the armrest with her usual pointed expression. every so often, she cuts through satoru's theatrics with a well-timed quip, her wit landing effortlessly. maybe you're tired, or you've had too much to drink, but you find yourself drawn to her. again. the shape of her lips when she puts on her little smirk, or how she sees right through satoru's antics. and yours. when she catches you looking, her lips curve into a knowing smile. your pulse quickens and your laugh falters mid-sound.

"what's so funny?" utahime asks with a raised brow. her tone is light, but the way she's looking at you roots you in place.

"you're more entertaining than him," you blurt out before you can stop yourself. your voice carries the casual tone you were going for, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrays you.

satoru pouts dramatically, clapping a hand to his chest. "you wound me, princess," he complains with a wild grin, "here i thought i was the star of the evening."

utahime's smile widens, her gaze flicking to him before settling back on you. "maybe next time, gojo."

choso's chuckle draws your attention. you notice his eyes moving between the three of you, assessing quietly. nanami and yuki, absorbed in their activities, seem blissfully unaware of the tension.

you excuse yourself to the kitchen, the need for air pushing you to your feet. the clink of bottles fills the silence as you open the fridge, and you're grateful for a moment alone, but the sound of footsteps pulls your focus. you turn to find utahime leaning against the doorway. the space suddenly feels smaller.

"are we still on for friday night? yuki just confirmed," she asks, her voice softer now, the sharpness from earlier melting into something gentler.

"yeah, it's on my calendar," you reply, carefully setting some beer bottles on the counter. "satoru's dropping me off."

utahime steps closer, reaching behind you for a bottle. her fingers brush against your arm, the touch sending sparks through you. your breath hitches before you can stop it, and you don't know if you want her to back up or come closer.

"girls' night tradition stays sacred," she says. "wine and bad movies. don't forget your pajamas."

you manage a smile, though your voice shakes slightly. "i'll bring my best ones."

her smile lingers, her eyes locking onto yours for a moment that feels too long and not long enough. "good," she says. "wouldn't expect anything less."

when you both return to the living room, satoru is already looking in your direction, that grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. you sit beside him and he pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"did i miss anything?" he questions, voice low and teasing. his tone is light, but he looks briefly at utahime, the smile he wears too knowing for your liking.

"don't start," you reply, rolling your eyes with a smile, but he sees through your feigned exasperation.

his laugh sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. he leans closer, lips ghosting against your ear. "for the record," he whispers, "you're the most entertaining one here."

utahime's expression is unreadable, save for the slight upward twitch on her lips. she's so pretty it makes your head hurt.

+++

it's crazy, she just called me baby, i don't know how this ends

it's friday evening, and you're standing outside utahime's apartment with a bottle of wine in hand, wearing your favorite pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved top under your coat. satoru had dropped you off on his way to meet suguru and choso at a bar, looking ridiculously attractive as he teased you.

utahime opens the door almost immediately, her hair loose around her shoulders and a soft sweater hanging off one shoulder. she looks cozy in a way that makes your heart stutter.

"you're early," she smiles, stepping aside to let you in. her apartment smells like lavender, the same way it always has. "yuki bailed," she adds, shutting the door behind you. "it'll just be us tonight."

your stomach flips, but you can't tell if it's nerves or excitement. "that's fine," you shrug, setting the wine on the counter and pulling off your coat. "more for us."

utahime laughs, grabbing two glasses and filling them. "exactly."

most of the evening feels normal, and you almost forget what you've been so worried about. you sit on the couch with a cheesy movie playing in the background, sipping wine and laughing at the absurdity of it all.

the warmth of the alcohol helps you relax, but after some time, it also enhances your observations. the way her fingers curl around her glass, the delicate curve of her collarbone where her sweater slips slightly. you hadn't expected to feel this way about anyone after you started dating satoru. still, something about her draws you in just as much.

at some point, utahime gets up to grab another bottle of wine, leaving the room briefly. she sits closer to you when she returns, her knee brushing against yours. it's the slightest touch, but the air suddenly feels heavy, charged with something unspoken. you're hyper-aware of the lack of space between you.

"you're quiet tonight," utahime says, her voice gentle but probing.

"just tired," you say automatically, though the words sound hollow.

"is that all?" she presses, tilting her head. her hair falls over one shoulder, and your fingers twitch with the urge to reach out. you think she may as well have the six eyes with the way she sees right through you.

you swallow hard, building up your courage. "no," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "not really."

utahime doesn't say anything at first. she shifts, picking her legs up and sitting on her calves to face you fully. her hand rests lightly on your arm, her touch warm. "you can tell me," she says softly. the words hang in the air, heavy with implication. your heart pounds, and you're sure she can hear it. "i…" you start, but the rest of the sentence doesn't come. instead, you meet her gaze, and something about how she's looking at you makes you move before you can second-guess it.

you lean in, and your lips meet hers in a soft, tentative kiss, testing the waters. you pull back almost immediately, your cheeks warm as you search her face. "was that okay?" you ask, struggling to find your voice.

her eyes soften, and her lips curve into a playful smile. "more than okay," she hums. her hand slides up to cup your cheek, and before you can fully process her words, she leans in and kisses you again. it's more deliberate this time. there's no hesitation. your hands slide into her hair, your lips parting as her tongue brushes against yours. she tastes like wine and everything you haven't let yourself admit wanting.

the kiss grows more heated, the tension between you breaking like a tidal wave. utahime shifts again, this time straddling your lap. her arms wrap around your neck, coming in close, and you lose yourself in the feeling.

her fingers thread through your hair, sighing when your hands find her waist. it feels like something out of a dream, and you half expect to wake up at any moment. but her weight in your lap, the heat of her mouth against yours, is all too real.

her eyes are dark with desire when she pulls back, her lips swollen and wet. the sight makes your heart skip a beat.

you lean in again, unable to resist her pull. you kiss her slowly and deeply, and you can feel her smile against your lips. it drives you crazy. she shivers when your hand slips under her sweater. you're breathing heavier now, and she lets out a sweet whine.

you can feel the heat rising between your bodies, and you get an abrupt thought about where this might lead. the thought thrills and terrifies you. you pull away slightly, and she places her forehead against yours, uneven breaths fanning against your face. utahime looks at you, a question in her eyes. "what about gojo?"

your stomach clenches at the thought of him. he prompted you to explore this, but you can't quell the doubt that burns in your stomach. what if he regrets his choice? you hesitate. you could walk away now and go back to pretending this never happened, but when she looks at you like that, you know there's no going back.

"we talked about it," you say, sounding more sure than you feel. "he encouraged this."

utahime's lips curve into a smile that's both understanding and wicked. "been thinking about this for a while?" she teases. you want to hide your face from her.

without warning, she closes the distance between you again, kissing you more desperately now. her hands slip under your shirt, tugging it up and off.

you dip your head into the crook of her neck, sucking lightly on the soft skin there. she smells so good. a soft moan escapes her lips and you wonder why you didn't do this before.

utahime pulls back and takes off her sweater. the sight of her bare skin makes your heart race. she's perfect and inviting and she's all you can focus on.

you're trailing kisses down the front of her throat, past her collarbones, down between her breasts. you're lost in each other, the world around you forgotten. the only thing that matters is the heat between you, the way she feels in your arms, the pretty sounds she's making just for you.

she swerves her hips, grinding down against you. the friction is enough to make you groan. her hand trails down your stomach, fingers dipping into the waistband of your pants. "can we take these off?" she questions, sounding desperate.

you smile at her, savoring this, when you hear your phone buzz on the coffee table.

you glance over and see satoru's face on your screen. "don't answer," utahime pleads, pressing her lips to your neck.

you groan, leaning into her touch. "he's probably on his way to pick me up," you say.

"two minutes," she pleads, her eyes full of mischief. "not done yet."

"two minutes," you agree, your resolve crumbling. you have the brief thought that you were doomed the moment you walked in here.

utahime smirks, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. she leans in, her breath hot against your ear.

"make them count," she murmurs, and your stomach flips. the mischief in her voice reminds you of satoru. it's strange and sexy and you love it.

"i intend to," you say, and then she's kissing you again, her lips hot and demanding. your hands slide down her body, resting on her hips as she grinds into you.

you want her so bad. she kisses like a hurricane, and you're caught in the eye of the storm. her fingers find your hair, and the world narrows to her, her, her.

you're lost in her, in the feel of her skin under your fingertips. and then, all too soon, the buzzing of your phone snaps you out of it. utahime groans, pressing her forehead to yours. "i hate that thing," she mutters, and you laugh softly.

"it's okay," you soothe. "we can pick this up another time."

"i'm gonna hold you to that," she says, and the look in her eyes sends a thrill through you.

you grab your phone and answer, with utahime still on top of you, resting on your shoulder.

"hello?" you say, your voice a little hoarse.

"hey, baby," satoru says, sounding a bit tipsier than he did when he dropped you off. "ready to go?"

"um…" you glance at the beautiful woman in your arms. "yes?"

there's a pause, and that bubbly laughter you love fills the line. "oh my god," he says, sounding like he's been holding it in. "did i interrupt something?"

you blush, smiling at the ceiling and thankful he can't see you. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"uh-huh," he says, unconvinced. "i'll be there in five."

the call ends, and you let out a sigh. it's quiet until you ask, "was that too much?"

utahime smiles at you like you're the sun, and your stomach does a somersault. "no," she says. "that was perfect."

you let out a relieved breath. "good," you say. "i'm glad."

the silence settles over you again, and it's different this time. less tense. you move to get dressed and finish your wine. not long after, you hear satoru honking outside.

"come on," utahime says, grabbing her jacket and keys. "i'll walk you out."

the cold hits you when she opens the building door, and you shiver. you give satoru a little wave from the doorway, but utahime grabs your arm to get your attention. she pulls you into one last kiss, lingering before stepping back. when you both pull back, she looks right at him.

you turn to see satoru looking smug. he gives her a wave and a wink, and she doesn't hesitate to flip him off.

+++

she wants to go slow in your camaro

you climb into the passenger seat, and satoru doesn't waste a second. "sooo," he says, his voice teasing. "how was girls' night?"

your face flushes, and you try not to let him see. "fine," you say, playing innocent.

"uh-huh," he says, not buying it for a second. "tell me everything."

you roll your eyes, but there's no malice behind it. "fine," you concede. you lean back against the seat. "but no interruptions."

"you have my word," he says eagerly.

you take a deep breath and dive in as he drives, telling him everything. and when you're done, he's silent for a moment. then, without warning, he pulls over and throws the car in park.

"what are you doing?" you ask, confused.

he turns to look at you, and something in his face takes your breath away. "i'm really proud of you," he says, his voice mild.

you feel the warmth extending through you at his words. it takes a moment to find your voice. "thanks," you say quietly. you swallow the lump in your throat, squeezing his hand. "i love you," you say, the words feeling heavy with meaning.

"i love you too, beautiful," he says, his smile inviting. he leans over and kisses you slowly. he pulls back and is looking at you with so much love that it sends a shiver up your spine. you're already needy from your schoolgirl make-out session with utahime, and he's not helping.

"satoru," you whine.

"yeah, baby?" he asks, grinning.

"need you."

"i'm all yours." before you can process his words, he's unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning over the center console. his lips are on yours in an instant, hungry and demanding.

he unbuckles you, and his hand slips under your shirt. you arch into his touch and let a soft moan escape you. he kisses you like a man possessed, grunting softly and biting down on your bottom lip.

your breath hitches when his fingers brush against the underside of your breast. he smirks, his touch becoming more intentional. his thumb grazes your nipple and you gasp, arching into his touch.

he breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your ear. "there she is," he whispers. "let me hear those pretty noises."

you've never been able to resist him, much less in your current state. his lips trail down your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. you grip his shoulders and maneuver yourself to straddle his lap in the driver's seat. his touch is everywhere, lighting up every nerve in your body.

you feel him growing hard against your center, and it's maddening. you grind down hard against him, earning a low groan from him.

"fuck, baby," he breathes, his hands gripping your hips. "so eager for me."

you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair. you rock your hips against him, chasing the delicious friction.

he captures you in another searing kiss, his hand sliding between your bodies and rubbing slow circles against your clit, making your hips buck.

"you ruined your pretty panties, baby," he purrs, his voice low and amused. the fact that you're this wet and it's not just his doing this time turns him on.

"want you so bad, 'toru," you whine, desperate for him now.

he slips his hand inside and pushes two fingers inside you, curling them as he pumps in and out.

"so fucking messy," he huffs, his eyes fixed on yours. he feels you clenching around his fingers. "so nasty. "

you whimper as he pulls his fingers out too soon and sucks them clean, his gaze never leaving yours.

"taste so good," he mumbles, his hands returning to your hips. he pulls you closer, his cock straining against his pants. "gonna let me fuck you, princess?"

but you're already pressing the button to move the seat backward and make room for yourself. "need to taste you first," you say, sinking between his legs.

your hands fumble with his belt. you're both a little desperate now, and his usual finesse is nowhere to be found. he helps you pull down his pants, freeing his cock.

"fuck, princess," he breathes, watching as you press kisses to the head. "always so pretty for me like this."

you swirl your tongue around the head, earning a groan from him. you sink your mouth on his cock, taking him inch by inch. "shit," he hisses, his hips jerking. "feels so good."

you work your way up and down his shaft, savoring the taste of him. his cock pulses in your mouth, and when you look up at him, his eyes are dark with desire.

"you're so perfect," he strains, his grip on the console tightening, knuckles going white.

you suck harder, bobbing your head faster. you can tell he's trying to hold back, but the way his jaw is clenched makes you think he's about to bust down your throat.

"c'mere."

you pull off of him with one last teasing lick. you climb back onto his lap and sink onto him. the stretch of him is addictive, and you can't help the airy moan that escapes your lips.

"look at you," he coos, his hands resting on your hips. "you take me so well, sweetheart."

you rock your hips, his dick buried deep inside you. you feel so full, and the friction is heavenly. "love fucking you like this," he groans, his voice rough. "love watching you ride me."

he studies you intently, loving your faces and the moans that escape you.

"so beautiful," he coos, thrusting his hips to meet yours. "my perfect girl."

you whine, grinding faster. you slide both your hands across the back of his head, one removing his blindfold and the other tugging his hair lightly.

"fuck," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips. "do that again."

you pull his hair harder, earning a growl from him. he snaps his hips, driving his cock deeper, making you cry out.

you put two fingers in his mouth. the only thought in your head is that he looks so pretty like this. "suck," you order.

he looks up at you, his eyes clouded with lust. he has this lovestruck smile on his face, and you think he looks so fucking sexy with his head tilted back where you're pulling his hair and your fingers between his lips.

he swirls his tongue around your fingers, sucking and licking greedily. you watch, transfixed, as his eyes flutter closed. you feel the vibration of his groan as you push your fingers deeper.

"fuck, 'toru," you whimper, your eyes fixed on his face. "you like that?" he moans around your fingers, eyebrows furrowing, eyes closed, and hips bucking involuntarily. you want him to see what he's doing to you.

"fucking look at me," you breathe, your voice hoarse. his eyes fly open, his gaze locking with yours.

"so pretty like this," you murmur, watching as he writhes beneath you. his eyes are glassy, his cheeks flushed. you rock your hips against him, and he gasps, his tightening grip sure to leave you sore.

"that's it, baby," you encourage, pulling your fingers out of his mouth. "take what you need."

he holds you up slightly and thrusts his hips, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you over and over. you moan loudly, your eyes fluttering closed.

"feels so good, baby," he moans, his breath hot against your ear. "so fucking wet for me."

he reaches up and places one hand around your waist, the other on the back of your neck. he brings you even closer, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. you moan into his mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders. he pulls back to look at you with those devastatingly beautiful eyes.

"i wanna make you cum," he purrs. "can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

your hips jerk, a low whine escaping your lips. you feel yourself teetering on the edge, your orgasm building with every thrust of his hips.

"yes," you breathe, putting your head on his shoulder and grinding down on him again. "oh god, yes."

"there we go," he coos, kissing your forehead and cradling you. "cum for me, baby."

you cry out, your body trembling. he lets you ride it out, singing praises in your ear. when your legs grow weak, his hands slide to your ass to hold you steady. sucking light marks into your neck, he begins to thrust up into you again, drawing out your orgasm.

"love you, 'toru," you whimper, arms wrapped around him now.

he whines, his movements growing erratic. "i love you, i love you," he sighs. his cock twitches inside you, his rhythm stuttering. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, letting out a loud moan as his orgasm rushes through him and into you.

he relaxes after a few moments, leaning back against the seat and taking you with him. his arms stay locked around you, grip almost possessive.

once he feels your breathing regulate against him, he lets out a little giggle, kissing the top of your head. "fuck, baby," he mumbles, a content smile spreading across his face.

you hum in response, burying your face in his neck. it takes a minute for your brain to start functioning correctly again.

"we're parked on the side of the road," you complain, reluctant to move. it's a secluded area, and the windows are deeply tinted, but still.

"let's go home," he concedes, running a hand through your hair.

you sit up and kiss him, adoration clouding your mind. he smiles into you. his eyes are full of adoration when you pull away, and your heart skips a beat.

you move off him and he hands you the roll of paper towels he keeps in his car (for this purpose, you started to suspect early in your relationship, though he never admitted it).

he puts the car in drive and pulls off once you're both ready, immediately reaching to hold your hand and rubbing circles onto it with his thumb.

+++

our girlfriend's got a hell of a stare

the sunday night air in your shared apartment is warm and familiar. everyone else has already filtered out, leaving you, satoru, and utahime.

satoru lounges on the couch, one arm draped over the armrest, his body occupying the entire length. utahime sits cross-legged in the armchair opposite him, holding a glass of wine and studying a stack of paperwork. "so, utahime," he drawls, his voice dripping with mischief, "how was girls' night? i hear it was… eventful."

utahime's lips twitch into a smirk as she raises a brow at you. "eventful? did she tell you that?"

you shoot him a glare from your spot on the floor. "subtle," you mutter, sipping your wine to buy yourself time. but satoru's gaze doesn't waver, and utahime's eyes stay fixed on yours.

satoru laughs, not a care in the world. "she might have mentioned a thing or two," he says, sitting up to rest his elbows on his knees.

"satoru," you warn, but utahime only hums, a smile tugging at her lips. she leans back in her seat, her posture relaxed, eyes locked on yours. the room's energy shifts, and you think you may be out of your depth here.

your heart stutters under the weight of her gaze. "you know," satoru begins, drawing out the words, "if we're all going to dance around this, it's going to get boring fast."

"and what are we dancing around, exactly?" she retorts. you love their back and forth, but this is making you restless.

satoru sits up and fixes his eyes on utahime, challenging her. "you and my girlfriend have been looking at each other like a pair of love-struck teenagers all day."

you groan, covering your face with your hands. "oh my god, satoru."

utahime chuckles, and you know she's not about to back down. she holds his gaze, unflinching. she leans back in her chair, the movement slow and deliberate. "he's not wrong," she says simply.

satoru smirks, pleased with himself. his eyes meet yours, and there's pride there. you roll your eyes, unable to fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

"honesty is a good look on you both," he comments.

utahime's suddenly in front of you on the floor, close enough that you can see the light flush coloring her cheeks. she reaches out, her fingers brushing yours, and the simple contact sends a spark through you. her eyes are intense, and she leans in, her lips ghosting over yours. "can i kiss you?" she asks, sounding calm.

you nod, your throat too tight to speak. she cups your cheek, grounding you, and leans in. the kiss is tentative, but the world seems to fall away when your lips meet. you want to lose yourself in her, the taste of wine on her lips, the way her fingers tangle in your hair. she tastes and smells exactly how she did a couple of days ago.

the kiss is gentle, but the desire in the room is palpable. the anticipation has been building since the moment utahime walked in the door. and now, with satoru's gaze burning into you, you feel more exposed than ever.

her lips are flushed and swollen when you pull back slightly. and satoru, the little shit, grins and sips his wine like he's enjoying a show.

"what about him?" utahime whispers, peeking over your shoulder.

you turn to look at satoru, who's watching the two of you with an expression that's equal parts amused and aroused. "what about me?" he asks. "you're doing great."

utahime huffs a soft chuckle, her attention shifting back to you. "your boyfriend is insufferable," she tells you.

you bite back a smile. the situation is absurd, yet you still find yourself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

you lean in, closing the distance again. the kiss is ardent this time. you pull her on top of you, leaning back against the couch. you're reminded of the other night in her apartment when she straddles you.

utahime deepens the kiss, her hands roaming over your body. her touch is electric, lighting up every nerve ending. she trails kisses down your neck, and her hands find their way under your shirt, fingertips ghosting over your skin. you gasp, arching into her touch. satoru lets out a low whistle, the sound making you shiver. the idea of him watching you two makes you dizzy with want.

you reach for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. you find the bare skin of her waist and lower back with your hands. her lips return to yours, the kiss insistent now.

satoru sighs, his eyes full of desire. "such a pretty picture."

utahime's lips curve into a sinful smile, trailing her tongue along your jawline. "i bet he loves watching," she whispers so that only you can hear. the heat of her voice in your ear makes you keen.

you cup her face with a gentle hand and press your mouth to the side of her neck, kissing her the way you know she likes. you press your lips down her neck, across her collarbone, and down her chest. her breathing is heavy, her sounds becoming needier. you pause at the swell of her breast, glancing up at her.

"keep going," she says, her voice breathy. you shift your weight to lay her back, and satoru, helpful as ever, places a pillow on the ground right before her head can land. you pause to glance at him, and his face is flushed, his eyes dark with desire, but he resumes his place on the couch.

you turn back to utahime, kissing and licking and sucking down her stomach. you can't help but take your time, savoring the feeling of her skin beneath your lips.

when you reach the waistband of her pants, she lifts her hips, allowing you to slide them down her legs. you leave her underwear on, teasing her by kissing the skin just above the band. she lets out a slight whine, her hands gripping the pillow.

"more," she breathes, her hips bucking. you comply, slipping a finger underneath the fabric and tugging it down.

your heart is pounding, and the air is thick with anticipation. the sight of her spread out in front of you is hot. you kiss her inner thigh, and the skin is warm and soft. she inhales sharply.

you look up, and she looks ruined, her eyes dark and her lids heavy. she's watching you with bated breath and swollen lips.

you lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her center. she gasps, her hips bucking. you swirl your tongue, earning a moan from her. the sound sends a shiver through you, and you continue to lap and suck at her.

you reach up and tease a nipple between your fingers, making her arch into the touch. you can't help but think that you just want to give her what she wants. you move a hand down and let your fingers slide between her folds. she lets out another strangled moan, her hips rocking.

you hear a low groan from the couch and glance over to see satoru with a hand in his pants, his eyes fixed on the two of you. he gives you a wink and a debauched grin, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

you turn back to utahime, pushing a finger into her slowly. she gasps, head thrown back, hands fisting the pillow. "so beautiful," you breathe out.

"more, please, fuck," she pants, her voice strained. you comply, adding another finger and picking up the pace. she lets out a long moan, her hips bucking against your hand. you're lost in her. you lean down, licking and sucking at her clit. you can't get enough.

you let out a groan and focus on keeping your movements steady. her hips jerk against your mouth. "so good, fuck, so good," she chants.

"fuck, princess," you hear satoru breathe from the couch, his voice thick with desire. the sound makes you clench around nothing. "so fucking sexy," he murmurs, his fingers wrapped tight around his cock.

you curl your fingers, hitting the spot that makes her writhe beneath you. her moans are loud and unrestrained, and the sounds she's making are enough to drive you wild. you look up, locking eyes with utahime, mouth still on her. her eyes are glazed, her lips are parted.

you love the way her walls flex around your fingers. she's close. you lick and suck at her clit, picking up the pace of your fingers a bit. it's all you can do to hold on as she fucks your face and squeezes your head between her thighs.

"yes, yes, yes," she cries, her voice breaking. her entire body trembles and the sound of her coming apart is nearly enough to send you over the edge. her body convulses as you moan into her, her orgasm slamming through her.

"oh god, oh god, oh fuck," she chants, her grip on your head tightening. you pull your fingers away, squeezing her thighs reassuringly and giving her soft licks over her clit and hole.

after a moment, her grip relaxes, her body going slack. you press one last kiss to her clit before moving up to place a small kiss on her lips. she whines when she tastes herself on you.

satoru is sitting up now, his hand still wrapped around himself, watching intently. utahime turns to look at him, her eyes hazed with lust. she gives him her most mischievous grin before turning back to you. she reaches out and kisses you again, slow, sensual, and wet. satoru lets out a wistful sigh. you pull away from the kiss and look up at him. he looks like he's ready to burst.

"can you stop touching yourself for me, 'toru?" you ask innocently. he swallows hard, his hand slowing. "anything for you, princess," he rasps, his voice strained.

you watch him adjust himself as you stand and move over to him. you lean down over the armrest and put your fingers in his mouth, the same ones you just fucked utahime with. his eyes flutter closed and he whimpers quietly, his tongue swirling around your fingers.

"look at him," you request, facing utahime. she's sprawled on the floor, but her eyes are locked on the two of you. "he's so good for me," you say, pleased. you remove your fingers and kiss his lips softly. he whines, his fingers digging into the couch. you can see his dick jump under his boxers.

"fuck," he breathes, his voice desperate. "i need—"

you smile, tracing fingers down his hard chest. "i know what you need, baby," you tell him. "let's go to bed."

satoru nods, his breathing labored. you help utahime off the floor, leading her to your bedroom, satoru following. she makes herself comfortable on your side of the bed. you hope it smells like her later. satoru grabs the hem of his shirt and tugs it off. "so eager," utahime comments, amused.

he flashes her a grin, his eyes glowing. "you have no idea."

he leans down, holding your face and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. you pull away, looking up at him. his face is flushed, his eyes full of desire.

"on the bed," you tell him, a thrill going through you at the sound of your own voice. satoru wastes no time, laying himself out on the empty side of your bed.

you turn back to satoru and crawl onto the bed. his eyes follow your every movement, his hands reaching for you. you lean down, kissing him deeply.

"are you gonna be good for me, baby?" you ask, pulling away and looking down at him. he nods with wide eyes. "use your words," you demand, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

"yes," he keens, his voice shaky.

you smile, trailing a hand over his biceps, his chest, his abs. "what do you want, satoru?"

he lets out a groan, his hips bucking. "want your mouth," he breathes. you smirk, leaning down to kiss his neck. "where?"

"my cock," he chokes out, his eyes fluttering closed.

you smile at him, moving lower. you tease the waistband of his boxers and he groans, lifting his hips.

you pull them down, taking a moment to appreciate the sight before you. he's so gorgeous, and his cock is straining against his stomach, the tip leaking.

"fuck," utahime blurts, her eyes roaming over his body.

you run your fingers over his length, a thrill going through you. he moans, his hips rocking. you wrap your hand around his cock, giving it a few strokes. he's always so sensitive for you.

you lean down and press a kiss to his tip. a strangled moan escapes him when you swirl your tongue to clean up the precum you find there.

his hands find their way into your hair as you sink your mouth onto him. he's moaning and panting, his hips rocking against your mouth.

the sounds he's making are vulgar. you love the weight of his dick in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper.

"yes, fuck, yes," he moans, his grip on your hair tightening. he's thrusting his hips now, the sensation overwhelming.

you pull away with ragged breaths. "not yet," you tell him, kissing the tip of his cock. he whines, his hips bucking.

utahime sits up, leaning closer to watch. "she's such a tease," she says, sounding delighted at his struggle.

satoru chuckles, his breathing labored. "tell me about it."

you giggle, kissing the side of his cock. "be patient, baby."

"please, princess," he breathes.

"you're so good for me, 'toru," you praise, licking a stripe up his length. he shudders.

you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, licking and sucking up the sides. he moans, his back arching.

the sight of him is breathtaking.

satoru looks at you, his eyes full of want. "need to cum, fuck," he chokes out.

"what's the magic word, baby?" you ask smoothly, pressing a kiss to his tip again.

"please, please," he sighs, his voice rough.

you smile, taking him back into your mouth. you relax your throat and bob your head for him, and he thrusts his hips. "yes, yes, yes," he moans, his voice breaking. "gonna cum," he warns, his eyes closing.

he's moaning and panting, hips bucking. "gonna cum, fuck, gonna cum," he chokes out.

he thrusts, hands gripping the sheets. "fuck, fuck, fuck," he groans. his entire body goes tense, and his hips jerk erratically. he lets out a series of loud moans, sending his orgasm down your throat in spurts. you swallow, his cum hot on your tongue.

you pull away, panting. satoru looks wrecked, his hair mussed, his face flushed. his breathing is heavy, his eyes closed, and his head thrown back against the headboard. you sit up, eyes on him. "so beautiful," you remark, reaching out and running a hand through his hair. he leans into the touch, a lazy smile tugging at his lips when you kiss him.

utahime shifts on the bed, and you look over at her. her gaze is hungry, her lips parted. she moves closer when you sit back. she begins kissing down your jaw. you tilt your head back for her when she starts roaming her hands over your body. "so pretty," she praises, her hand reaching to cup your breast. a thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you can't help but lean into the touch.

"touch me," you murmur, the words escaping before you can stop them.

she smiles at you. "i can do that," she says. she reaches down, her fingers ghosting over where you need her. you whine for her. she leans in and kisses you.

you wrap your arms around her and pull her flush against you. you can't get enough. you moan into the kiss before breaking it, tugging your shirt over your head. she moves her attention to your neck and you can't help but let out a soft moan, tilting your head back. her teeth graze the skin of your throat, sending heat to your core.

she moves lower, lips tracing a line down your chest. she pauses to look up at you with a mischievous smile. tugging your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion, her eyes roam over your body. "god, you're gorgeous," she breathes, leaning in and sucking on your bottom lip.

you tangle a hand into her hair. a hand finds its way back between your legs, her fingers teasing at your entrance. you let out a whine. she smirks, slipping a finger inside. "so wet," she notes, curling her finger.

"please," you whisper, your voice hoarse.

she adds another finger, her movements unhurried. "so impatient," she replies, her breath searing against your ear. your grip on her hair tightens, and she moans softly.

"fuck, 'hime," you gasp, your hips bucking as she thrusts. the heel of her palm brushes against your clit, sending a jolt through you. her lips move down your neck again, her teeth grazing your skin.

utahime pulls her hand back, making you pout. she throws one leg over yours, and the sensation of her slick against your cunt makes you wanna cry. when she starts grinding, the friction makes you gasp. "oh my god," you whimper, your head falling back.

satoru smiles at you, and you look at him. "so beautiful," you hear, but you don't think he even knows he said it out loud.

"look at me," utahime demands, catching your face and turning it in her direction.

you lift your gaze and lock eyes with her. her expression is full of lust. you move your hands to her hips, pushing and pulling just to keep feeling the glide of her slick cunt against yours.

she lets out a loud moan, head falling back and hands cupping her breasts as you continue to grind her against yourself, increasing your pace. you think you'll get addicted to this, to her, if you're not careful. utahime whines needily, her body trembling on you. "don't stop," she mewls, her hips moving in time with yours.

the scene is filthy. satoru is panting, his eyes fixed on the two of you. his cock is half-hard, his eyes filled with lust. he's sitting closer to you now, studying your movements but not touching.

utahime's moans grow louder, her movements more erratic. "don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop," she chants, her hips rocking.

your heart is racing, your body tensing. "so close," you sigh, your voice ragged.

she leans forward, capturing your lips in a messy kiss. you moan into her mouth, your hips rocking. "so fucking close," she gasps, her voice thick with desire.

"come for me, 'hime," you plead into her mouth.

she lets out a piercing moan, her body going taut. her entire frame shudders, and her eyes squeeze shut. her orgasm crashes over her, and you can feel the way her cunt flutters over yours.

you're right there with her, your orgasm taking you. you moan and grind your hips against her, your head falling back. utahime lets out a whimper as she collapses onto you.

satoru's eyes are wide, his breathing heavy.

utahime rolls over onto the bed next to you after a moment, her chest heaving. "fuck," she exhales, her face flushed.

you nod, your breathing labored. the room is quiet, the only sound the rustle of sheets. satoru hands you a bottle of water, which you accept gratefully. you share with utahime, who's still trying to catch her breath.

you take a moment to admire her, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her face flushed. she looks gorgeous, and you'd like to remember this. she catches you staring, a smirk tugging at her lips. "see something you like?"

you nod, smiling back. you take some time to catch your breath, and then satoru leans in, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"you trust me?" he asks you quietly, his voice husky. you nod curiously, not trusting your voice.

"wanna try something," he murmurs, looking at utahime now.

she raises an eyebrow at him, her eyes dancing. it's that same look satoru gets when he's up to something, and it's making your heart rate spike all over again.

satoru grins, bringing his lips to your ear. "turn around," he whispers.

you turn, an arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you against him. he leans the both of you slightly backward, sitting on his calves, and utahime kneels in front of you, her lips finding yours.

you can't help but melt into her immediately. her hands find their way into your hair, tugging gently. satoru kisses down your neck. the sensation is electrifying, and you let out a soft moan.

utahime leans down to pull your nipple into her mouth and satoru shifts, his length sliding between your legs. you're sensitive, unable to hold your gasp in. "good?" he whispers into your ear, holding you close against him.

"so good," you whine, arching into him.

satoru groans, his hips rocking. his cock rubs against your folds, the sensation driving you wild. "so fucking wet."

utahime's tongue swirls around your nipple. the feeling is indescribable. you try not to lose your mind.

satoru moves his cock, the tip pressing against your entrance. you whine, your hips bucking.

utahime moves south, kissing down your stomach. she stops just in front of your cunt, her eyes finding his. you're entirely at their mercy, the sensation consuming you.

a wicked smile tugs at her lips. "together," she tells him.

you feel satoru nod against you, his grip on you tightening. he thrusts his hips, his cock sinking into you. you cry out at the stretch as utahime draws your clit into her mouth, swirling around the sensitive bud. you feel so full, and it's taking all your resolve not to lose yourself here.

"fuck, princess," satoru groans, his fingers digging into your skin.

utahime sucks on your clit and the combination of sensations is driving you insane. you can feel yourself losing control, the sensation too much to handle.

"oh, god, please," you gasp, your hips rocking. utahime runs lithe fingers over the outline of satoru's dick at your entrance, making him drop his head onto your shoulder.

"not yet," satoru growls, his voice thick with lust. he raises a hand to your throat, squeezing lightly.

you cry out, your eyes rolling back and fluttering closed. "please, please," you whine, the sensation driving you wild. you're not even sure what you're begging for.

utahime pulls away, and you can't help but pout. she laughs airily as she kneels back on the bed and gets in your face.

satoru pulls out and slides back in at a torturous pace. he presses a kiss to your cheek and then uses one hand to tilt your head toward utahime. "look at her, princess," he commands, voice tense.

you look up to find her breathing heavily, her face flushed. you reach for her, tears welling in your eyes. you pull her into a messy kiss, your hips rocking.

"you're so good," satoru hums, sounding strained. he's moving faster now, hitting the perfect spot. "you're so fucking good."

utahime groans, reaching between the two of you to play with your slick. "fuck, fuck, fuck," you gasp, your body going tense.

"you like that, pretty?" utahime questions, her voice laced with desire. you nod, your eyes rolling back.

satoru tightens his grip on your throat when utahime presses a chaste kiss to your lips, then your cheek, and then behind you to satoru's lips. you watch them, and the sight draws a sound out of you that you didn't even know you were capable of.

"i can feel how close she is," he warns against her lips, his voice dripping with lust.

utahime pulls away, a mischievous smile on her lips. "then let her come," she breathes.

the fact that they're talking about you like you're not even in the room makes you want to let go. "oh god, oh god, oh my god," you cry. satoru groans, snapping his hips. his cock hits the perfect spot, and you can feel your orgasm building.

"come for us, baby," utahime murmurs, moving back down to press kisses to your pretty pussy and see the way it flexes around satoru. it sets you off, and you cry out to them, the earth stuttering on its axis as your orgasm shocks you.

your legs are shaking as utahime sucks on your clit, her tongue swirling. your walls squeeze tight around satoru's cock, and you hear her let out a hum.

satoru's fucking you through it, his hips moving faster. you start to dissolve, and the sensation is almost too much, drool escaping your mouth. you can't even remember to feel embarrassed.

he's thrusting harder, his grip on you tightening. he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. satoru moans, his cock pulsing. "fuck, fuck," he chokes out, his hips stuttering. his goes still suddenly and his entire body goes tense, his cock twitching inside of you. "fuck, so fucking perfect, i love you, i love you," he babbles, strong arms wrapping around you.

your heart is racing, and your breathing is ragged. utahime pulls away, a smug smile on her lips. she comes up to give you a small kiss, breath heavy, face flushed. "so perfect," she parrots, her hand caressing your cheek.

you lean into her touch, a lazy smile tugging at your lips, eyelids drooping.

satoru nuzzles your neck, his lips ghosting over your skin. you can't help but giggle, the sensation ticklish. "so good for us, princess," he mumbles.

utahime lets out a content sigh as she lies back, her eyes closing. you yawn, your body softening.

satoru pulls out, making you whine. he chuckles as he sets you down next to utahime. "be right back," he murmurs, his fingers swiping over your cheek.

you nod, too exhausted to even ask him to stay.

satoru gets up and heads to the bathroom, the sound of running water following.

utahime rolls on her side, her hand finding yours.

"good?" she asks, her eyes fluttering open.

you nod, still catching your breath. "you?"

she nods back at you with an endearing smile.

satoru returns, two wet towels in hand. he takes a seat next to you, handing one to utahime. he leans down and presses a kiss on your cheek.

"you did so good," he says, a faint smile on his lips as he cleans you up.

none of you speak for a while, but the silence isn't heavy. you all lay there, your head resting on satoru's bicep while you play with utahime's hair.

after a while, satoru speaks. "i didn't know you could be this quiet, 'hime," he says, amusement coloring his tone.

utahime rolls her eyes, her gaze flicking over to him. "i'm just enjoying the moment. this is nice," she says.

he grins, his eyes twinkling. "nice? utahime, i'd say this is revolutionary."

she throws him a withering glare, her nose wrinkling. "you'd call a walk in the park revolutionary if it suited you."

satoru shrugs, not denying the accusation.

utahime rolls her eyes at him, but there's a softness to her expression that you haven't seen before. "you're impossible," she tells him, though her tone has no venom.

"and yet, here you are," satoru quips, leaning back and sighing cheerfully. "admit it, 'hime. you've grown fond of me."

she scoffs, but the corner of her mouth twitches upward. "don't push your luck, gojo."

you smile. "i'm just glad you two can be in the same room without outright arguing for once."

satoru hums thoughtfully. "oh, we'll argue. just not tonight."

"not tonight," utahime agrees, her voice soft.

[withclawandvine]

what we pretend to be, chapter 4

Summary: Azriel was a veteran spy, well suited to the sneaking and solitude that comes with a life in the shadows. He was good at it. He wasn’t good at undercover missions, so he couldn’t hide his shock when new recruit and undercover specialist Elain Archeron was already seated at the conference table, looking beautiful as ever. And then it was dropped on them like a bomb: Azriel and Elain would be sent to the suburbs, posing as a married couple to gather intel on a suspicious man who, according to reports, was in communication with notorious arms dealer, Koschei Sokolov.

Author’s note: aaaand we’re back! and things are finally happening!! i’ve been really excited to share this chapter, which is at least 33% of the reason why it took so long — it just wasn’t living up to my own expectations. BUT i’m feeling pretty good about it now. hopefully we can keep these good vibes going hehe. please enjoy and lemme know what you think!

Tags: SFW, undercover au, fake married, hurt/comfort

Word count: 3.5k

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42105033

prev | start at the beginning

The wheels of the cart were already squealing under the burden of their items, but they couldn’t leave without a coffee maker. The Keurigs were tempting — easy and instantly gratifying. But the coffee the machines produced was mediocre at best, and Elain wouldn’t object to something more sustainable. She picked up a French press and started reading the product description printed on the box. No filters! Easy cleanup! Robust flavor! 

“Have you ever used one before?” Azriel asked, peering over her shoulder. 

Elain shook her head. 

“Then shouldn’t we — ”

“Just trust me,” she interrupted, stiffening a little in surprise as her phone vibrated in her back pocket. She handed Azriel the box and took it out to see that Nuala had finally replied to her text from this morning — an all-caps demand to know if the agent had lost her mind and if she was aware that summer wouldn’t last forever. 

Nuala had been in charge of Elain’s wardrobes for all of her previous missions. She’d always been as grateful for her fellow agent’s ability to anticipate her every need as she was mystified by it. Which was how she knew that her vast new collection of satin negligees was no oversight. 

Don’t be such a baby. Besides, I’m sure Chazen would be happy to keep you warm (;

Elain’s eyes widened at Nal’s message, and she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder to make sure Azriel was still focused on coffee makers. He caught her eye and smiled as he balanced the French press on top of their mountain of homegoods. She managed a quick flash of her own teeth before turning back to her phone.

Excuse you we are both professionals. 

Nuala’s response came through on the way back to the house. Oh come on, E. It’s sooo obvious he’s got a thing for you!!

After deleting the entire thread, Elain peered over at Azriel, looking more relaxed than she’d seen him in days. That much, she could tell. Their first car ride had been all bouncing knees and white knuckles, but now Azriel was leaning back in his seat with one hand draped lazily on the wheel and the other hanging out the window. 

But these supposed feelings for her?

She thought about all of her past interactions with Azriel. It didn’t take long; there weren’t all that many, poking the first hole in Nuala’s claim. On the rare occasions they were both at their desks for the day, filling out incident reports and compiling relevant intel for future investigations, they’d often get up to refill their coffee mugs at the same time. 

And sometimes, instead of going straight back to their respective corners, they lingered, sipping their drinks and trying to find something to talk about. Most of their work was classified, even amongst fellow agents, and due to the nature of that work, neither of them were particularly inclined to be forthcoming about their personal lives. Their interactions, while pleasant, were thin. And there was nothing to indicate that those few minutes had been significant to Azriel — at least, nothing obvious. 

As if he’d felt the weight of her attentions, Azriel turned to look at her. Aside from a slight raise of his brows, his expression was neutral, his hazel eyes unreadable. It was silly to think anything about Azriel could be truly obvious. 

***

The kitchen, while a bit too white and sterile-looking for her taste, was a dream. Flooded with natural light, the open space was home to miles of glossy countertops and appliances so sleek, Elain could see her reflection in them. It filled her with a sort of giddiness as she opened the double-door fridge and started lining its empty compartments with bottles and jars. 

In that aspect, it wasn’t all that different from the little fridge in the apartment she kept in the city. Leased under the name Sarah Gardiner, the rickety studio had no personal affects, no air conditioning, and nothing in the fridge besides black olives and hot sauce. Nothing fresh, lest she get sent to the other side of the country, gathering intel while her broccoli and blackberries molded.  

But now, a rainbow of produce covered the island, and Elain fell into an easy rhythm of washing and chopping and lining it up in neat rows on the shelves. Leafy greens and berries went into containers lined with paper towels, carrots were peeled then submerged in jars of fresh water. 

While she worked, Azriel busied himself with organizing the spice rack, seemingly in alphabetical order. Elain couldn’t help but smile to herself as she glanced over to see him holding up two little bottles, squinting thoughtfully at the labels. By the time the sun set, the fridge looked like it belonged to a lifestyle vlogger, the pantry was stocked, the French press was washed and ready for tomorrow morning, and the cardboard boxes from yesterday had been broken down.

While Azriel took them outside to be picked up for recycling, Elain started setting out ingredients. First thing tomorrow morning, she’d bake and box up a batch of cookies to hand deliver to their immediate neighbors, offering baked goods and an unassuming smile in exchange for their trust. Putting faces to the names in their briefings. 

“The couple right across from us kept staring at me,” Azriel said as soon as the garage door was shut behind him. “They probably think we’re up to something already, just because of how fast we finished unpacking.”

“How fast you finished unpacking.” 

When Elain woke up, the sun was only just beginning its ascent, but Azriel had already unloaded and organized all of their surveillance equipment in the home office, and was in the process of arranging decorative candles on the sofa table. 

“I don’t normally go to sleep as early as we did last night.” 

Elain wasn’t sure she’d consider midnight early. Especially not for someone who also claimed to be a morning person. Although not even she made a habit of being up hours before the sun. But when she pointed this out, Azriel only shrugged, “I guess I’m both.” 

“I think that just makes you an insomniac,” she said, half-teasing.

“Maybe.” His lips quirked in a small, rueful smile. He nodded to the stick of plant butter still in her hand, “Do you want any help?” 

Elain hesitated. Until now, she had no intention of doing anything but showering and going to bed. She was exhausted, and while she would’ve liked to prep the dough and let it chill overnight, she — unlike Azriel, apparently — needed more than four hours of sleep to function.

He was still looking at her, waiting for an answer with a self-conscious hand curled around the back of his neck. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll actually be, but —” 

“You can chop up the chocolate.” 

Elain had been following the same vegan chocolate chip cookie recipe since she learned how to use the oven. By now, each step and measurement was engrained in her memory. She whisked the melted plant butter in with the sugars and added vanilla until it felt right. 

The rest of the kitchen darkened with the sky, but instead of turning on the overhead light, Azriel kept close, so both of them were haloed by the yellow glow of the stovelight. His elbow occasionally bumped into hers as he neatly worked the knife through each bar of dark chocolate at a diagonal, just as Elain had instructed. 

When the final cup of flour made the dough stiff and heavy, Azriel took over. Elain couldn’t stop noticing the muscles in his arm flexing as he folded in the chocolate chunks. 

Azriel was distracted as he helped Elain with the dishes, stopping more than once to stare with what could only be described as lustful eyes at the oven. It only got worse as the aroma of melted chocolate and warm sugar got stronger. 

He couldn’t remember the last chocolate chip cookie he’d had, the milk chocolate and butter in most others was enough to make his stomach revolt. 

Elain winced. “It’s really that bad?” 

“If I was going to lie to you, I would’ve gone with something sexier than gastrointestinal issues.” 

She nodded sagely, “Like astigmatism.” 

“Exactly.” 

When Elain bit into a cookie, it was still delicate with pools of chocolate on the surface. It tasted of comfort and nostalgia — like swatting at Feyre’s hand when she tried to stick her fingers in the dough and late nights with Nesta. Azriel ate his in nearly a single bite, with an indulgent hum that made Elain grateful for the low light. 

Especially now that he was looking down at her, gaze steady and contemplative. She waited for him to say something, but he was quiet as he lifted his hand. Elain felt his warmth against her skin, his knuckles nudging her cheek as his thumb smoothed over the corner of her mouth.  

“You’ve got some schmutz,” he murmured. 

His touch had been slow, but he withdrew his hand quickly, eyes darting around the kitchen before landing determinedly on something beyond her left shoulder. Elain might have mistaken it for embarrassment, if his eyes hadn’t narrowed with suspicion. She turned around, following his gaze through the living room window to see Lynn Forth stepping alone off the Sokolov’s driveway and into the quiet street, an empty casserole dish in hand. 

“It’s a bit weird to be picking up a casserole dish at this time, don’t you think?” Azriel mused. 

Maybe. Lynn might’ve gone over hours ago, then got to chatting and lost track of time. 

“We’re baking cookies at this time.” 

“We’re weird.” 

She grinned. “And vaguely off-putting.” 

*** 

Azriel and Elain had been on their way to the house right across from theirs to deliver a box of Elain’s cookies and make formal introductions when Lynn stopped them in their driveway. Nobody else had showed up on their doorstep since their arrival. They still hadn’t decided if that was strange, if it made the Forths suspicious or simply over-eager. 

As she presented Lynn with the box, Elain lied smoothly that the cookies had been for her and Brian to thank them for the welcome basket, as if there weren’t four identical containers waiting on their counter for the next delivery. 

Lynn said she’d just been heading over to invite them to a welcome party at her house on Saturday. As she chattered about the woes of party planning and all the cleaning she still had to do before the day, Lynn took a bite of one of the cookies. She joked that they ought to make some more to bring to the party — they’d be a hit! 

Elain’s eyes had flickered to Azriel to find that was already looking at her, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Now, standing in the threshold of the Forth’s home, Elain held up a container of only slightly-stale cookies in a tupperware. “Can I put these in the kitchen?” 

“Of course! Everything’s out on the island.” Lynn said. Then, lowering her voice into a mock-whisper, added, “But feel free to stash those in a cabinet.” 

As she moved past Azriel, she ran her hand down his arm, pausing to squeeze his elbow. A fortifying gesture before she left him alone with the neighbors. 

Elain didn’t hide the cookies, but she took her time poking around for a different hiding place. When Azriel circled back later with the recording devices, he’d give her one to leave somewhere in the kitchen. 

Aside from the abundance of hotdishes and slow-cookers that would get swept up by the masses at the end of the night, the kitchen was pristine; no grease splattered the stovetop, a crumbless floor. The usual nooks and crannies weren’t dusty enough for her liking.

At least, the ones she could see. There was a small gap between the top of the fridge and the cabinets above it, too high and dark for Elain to assess its cleanliness. With a glance over her shoulder to make sure she was still alone, she pushed up on her toes and reached into the crevice, her fingertips dragging over the cool metal as she fell back onto her heels. 

The pads of her fingers were filmed with dust. She brushed them off on her pants as she made her way into the living room, where Azriel was already sitting on the sofa, a proprietary hand on the cushion next to him. 

It was impossible to discern whether or not Azriel was playing up his discomfort for the sake of their plan. While Elain fielded questions about her supposed grad program, and why she chose the small liberal arts school nearby instead of staying in the city, he sat silently beside her. The strain in his eyes and grimacing mouth seemed very, very real. 

“And we’re hoping to start a family soon,” Elain continued, reaching for the hand Azriel had rested on her knee and weaving their fingers together. “This just felt like the right place to do it!” 

The chorus of awws and predictions about how lovely their children would be turned into advice and their own experiences — the school was wonderful, there were a plethora of after-school clubs, the cul-de-sac was perfect for street hockey. 

“Though ever since the Weavers and the Carvers grew up, there haven’t been many little ones running around.” The voice coming from across the room was wistful. 

Another lamented, “It’s been so quiet.” 

“I really thought the Galkins would have at least one baby by now,” someone else chimed in. 

She felt the arm around her back tense, the only indication Azriel was listening at all. His face was still masked with malaise. 

“Oh, I don’t think we’ve met them yet.” Elain said tilting her head thoughtfully, as if she were trying to put faces to the name. 

Lynn shook her head, “You wouldn’t have. Poor Lisa’s been sick all week. I stopped over a few days ago to invite them tonight, and ended up fixing a pot of my chicken soup instead.” 

That could explain the late-night visit. She wanted to know what Azriel thought about it, but when she turned to face her partner, Elain only made her brows wrinkle with concern. “You alright, baby?” 

He gestured vaguely to his head. “I think I feel a migraine coming on.” 

Her thumb smoothed over the delicate skin below his eye, where any real pain would’ve been concentrated. “Should we go?” 

Azriel shook his head gingerly, the movement nudging his face into the cradle of her hand. “You stay. I’ll be alright.” 

His message came halfway through a discussion about the grass-free landscaping project Demetra and her wife were planning for next year — the first and only stimulating conversation of the evening. 

Did we finish unpacking all the bathroom stuff? Can’t find the Tylenol anywhere.

Sensing someone peering over her shoulder, Elain loosed a chagrined sigh, “I better call him,” and stepped into the hallway. Azriel had been scouting the house from the outside the past few nights, but his description of where the bedroom was made less sense from the inside, so she opened the door to a half-bath and the basement before finding the right one. 

With one last glance over her shoulder, she slipped into the quiet Brian and Lynn’s bedroom. 

Even though she’d been expecting to see him, Elain startled at Azriel’s shadow-cloaked frame looming on Brian and Lynn’s patio, a backpack on his shoulder. She unlatched the door and he stepped in, wearing an almost boyish grin. “Hope you’re not having too much fun without me.” 

Unlike the kitchen, it was easy to decide where in the bedroom to plant the recording device. A stately, and more importantly, heavy-looking headboard dominated most of the far wall. Nobody would be moving it any time soon. 

Elain had to crawl under the bed to stick the bug to the back of the headboard. She wiggled back out, flushed from the effort and Azriel’s bemused expression as he helped her back to her feet. He waited patiently for her to tug her shirt back down and run her fingers through her mussed hair before handing her the second device. 

Just as she was slipping it into her pocket, she heard a voice from the hallway, “... so sorry. I keep telling him to put his damn drink down if he’s got something to say.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Lynn responded, much louder than the first voice. “Just wait, as soon as this little machine does it’s thing, it’ll be like it never happened.” 

Elain barely had time to usher Azriel into the closet and shut the door behind them before Lynn and the other woman, Trina from down the street, entered the room. In the near-dark, Elain could just make out the rows of clothes hanging around them, and a small shelf neatly displaying a collection of handbags and sunglasses. Elain could almost sigh with relief; unless somebody had also gotten a drink spilled down their shirt, the odds of Lynn opening this closet were slim.

The only way to hear all of what was being said would be to press her ear to the door, and shuffling around to do so was not a risk Elain was willing to take. Though the few things she could make out — Bissel, works wonders, eggshell, he says it’s because he’s Sicilian! — didn’t make her feel like she was missing anything important. Anxiety danced down Elain’s spine and Azriel was practically vibrating with tension; he was standing so close she could feel the disturbance in the air around him. 

Within seconds of Elain realizing that Azriel was not just tense, but trembling, the rapid, shallow breathing started. He clamped a hand over his mouth, knowing the importance of staying quiet. Cast perfectly in the sliver of light streaming in from the bedroom, Elain could see that his pupils were blown wide with panic.

She remembered the car, the bashful hand scrubbing the back of his neck. And I don’t really do great in tight spaces. 

In the moment, his confession had conjured imaginings of clammy hands and nervous lip-biting — not this. 

It took Elain a second to gather her wits; the anguish in his eyes was paralyzing. She couldn’t think, only stare back. And she was sure the expression swirling in her own eyes was far from reassuring. 

She knew that reaching for someone on the cusp of a panic attack was uncouth at best, and at worst, like trying to douse embers with accelerant. But she also knew there were still soft voices coming from the other side of the door, and that Azriel was showing no signs of improvement. She needed to do something. Deep pressure could relieve anxiety… or so she’d read once. 

Elain wrapped her arms around Azriel’s body and squeezed.

He went completely rigid, even his desperate breathing came to a halt for one stunned beat. And when he didn’t shove her away, Elain tightened her hold, putting all of her strength into it. His next breath didn’t seem so hard-won. She breathed with him, counting in her head as she went — one, two, three, four seconds in. Hold. Exhale slowly through the nose all the way to eight, tapping each second out with her index finger so Azriel could count with her. 

Gradually, his chest fell into the same rhythm as hers, rising and falling slowly, and the hand Azriel had been using to smother himself moved, curling tightly around Elain’s shoulder, pinning her body to him with his forearm. Her own arms trembled with the strain of holding him together. She listened to his heart slow down instead of the low hum of Lynn and Trina’s voices. She didn’t even notice it fading out, or the click of the bedroom door.

All of her attention was on the hand that had gripped her shoulder, now sliding up to hold the back of her neck, the pressure gentle and warm. Azriel’s thumb worried over her pulsepoint, his gaze heavy. Elain stared back, trying to decipher the storm swirling in his eyes — dread and shame, and something else. Something deep and private and tender. 

He blinked slowly, deliberately. And when his eyes opened again, it was gone, and he was focused only on the small gap in the door. 

“It’s clear,” he whispered, his hand moving down her back, settling at the dip in her spine and using its new position to guide her into the open air of the Forth’s bedroom. Azriel still moved like a man trapped, his steps small and his shoulders stiff as he made his way to the balcony. 

Elain watched his hands — scarred, and steady at last — carry him down the rope. When he hit the grass with a dull thud, she freed the grappling hook from the wrought iron and let it fall at his feet. The din of the party could be heard from outside, but Elain still kept her voice to a whisper, “I’ll see you back at the house.” 

Azriel nodded once before melting into the night.

[oh-meow-swirls]

how does the raft not capsize.

[talkorsomething]

want to cut my hair again like you wouldn't believe. What are the possible consequences of going bald

[livvyofthelake]

utterly cannot stand the type of post thats like "what are the female characters you like" and i KNOW it's not the fault of the people who make those posts i know they only do it because 95% of this site's blorbos are men. but i hate it anyway. like really the only way you can get fandom people to talk about women is to explicitly tell them to talk about women. and it always comes off so disingenuous because i KNOW most people reblogging those posts would never say those characters on a generic "what are your favorite characters" post. like it's all just so bleak :/

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[adore-gregor]

my perception of grades totally changed since i started uni

[tagidearte-spam-sb]

My space scrapper dca fic, which originally was reader x sun x moon... is slowly starting to turn into platonic reader & sun/moon, where the romantic part is trying to get these stupid robots to admit their feelings for each other.

I am really just slowly turning this story into "please someone intervene so that these space jesters stop behaving like a divorced couple". And I am loving it.

I mean. I still want us to have a romance with them... but this dynamic is sounding really fun now. A full platonic fic with a ship bonus of sun and moon being the romantic endgame, but reader still being their super important bestie? We'll see.

[babycharmander]

(THE BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS!!)

Thinking about Bill’s appearance at the end of the book…

[ID: BIll when confronting the Axolotl. He is shown in white silhouette, hovering in space, hovering neutrally. Notably, he has a massive crack running through his body, splitting him into multiple pieces, some of which are coming apart. /end ID]

When confronting the Axolotl, Bill is broken. The Axolotl even notes this: "Shattered, broken, not yet dead."

(Which, side note, makes me think Bill might have been lying about having been "kicked out of Hell," if he didn't actually die in Stan's head.)

[ID: Three pictures of Bill in the Theraprism. The first one shows him holding his hand against the side of his head in a dazed expression, sitting in a chair in a white padded room between a wizard with a clock for a face and Saturn (taken directly from the painting Saturn Devouring His Son). The second is a camera recording of him wearing an orange jumpsuit and kneeling in a cell, surrounded by arts and crafts tools, holding a pair of scissors, and beaming his thoughts frantically into a book. The third shows a mugshot of him staring blankly into the camera, his own name written on coded text below him. In all three images, he has a glowing scar where the cracks were, and is in one piece. /end ID]

When he's shown in the Theraprism, we see a glowing, static-y scar where the cracks were. The scar crosses his entire body (and even crosses to the other side of his eye without affecting it!), but he's actually whole, keeping himself together.

But then...

[ID: Two pictures of Bill from the last pages of the book. In the first one he is facing forward and holding up one finger, his eye reddened, his entire form glitching, and his crack is notably worse than prior, cracking through his eye, multiple smaller pieces drifting away. In the second one he is staring blankly at the viewer, his arms hanging limply, his eye wide and blank, the crack worse than the previous image, with more pieces floating away. /end ID]

In the last few pages, we see the scar is gone and the cracks are back, and even more of him is breaking away, including parts of his eye. It's especially bad in the last image, with even more pieces of him breaking away.

Also noteworthy is that the static texture behind him seems to be the same as the blood sample the US government took from him in the 1940s. He's bleeding.

We know from context that these images are meant to be taken somewhat chronologically. After dying (or nearly dying), Bill seeks out the Axolotl, who sends him to the Theraprism. While there, he writes the journal that he's beaming to us. The staff at the Theraprism catch onto this, and allow him to write out the last few pages, meaning those last few pages are chronologically the last of Bill we see.

This means that, after the events of the show, Bill was shattered... and then, upon entering the Theraprism, started to heal, his body coming together and scars forming... but at some point afterward, he started breaking apart again.

I'd made a post previously about Bill's development, how he views himself as a monster after the Euclidian Disaster, and how he continues to act monstrous afterward (and winds up agonizingly lonely as a result). I didn't really touch on this in the post, but I feel like after inadvertently destroying his home dimension...

Bill never left the denial phase of grief.

I could be wrong on this, but I get the feeling that part of his reason for acting monstrous toward just about everybody is because he sees himself as a monster, because "this is just how I am" is easier to accept than "I really really screwed up."

Bringing this back to his shattering... It's interesting to me that after entering the Theraprism, his body is scarring, which means it is healing. But then, at the end, as he's signing off the book, he's shattered again, and looking even worse than he did when talking to the Axolotl. When talking this over with a friend, they pointed out something that struck me:

Bill does not want to heal.

Healing means having to actually think through what happened. It means having to confront his past, confront destroying his home dimension, confront the harm he caused to others, confront the fact that he did not have to be this way.

And he refuses to do that.

He refuses to heal.

[thinkinonsense]

call me if you're lonely⟡

old man!logan howlett x phone sex hotline worker!reader

cw: dirty talk, mutual masturbation

author's note: very short. just an idea that came to mind.

masterlist

this is so desperate, logan thought to himself as he dialed the number written on the fourth page in the second column. in pretty cursive words it read, call me if you're lonely!

your number had been living in the back of his head for almost a month now but he never got this close to calling it. in the column, it's written that you are a college student working on your masters degree and that you are very popular within your profession as a phone sex hotline worker. honestly, logan didn't care if you just started yesterday. he's been so stressed and overworked lately that he needs a release soon. logan waited as the phone rang after entering his card information. he's sat up on the old mattress under him, waiting patiently to see if anyone answers.

on the third ring, someone picks up.

"thanks for calling, hush hotline." you say, giving him the typical welcome speech before jumping straight in. "what would ya' like me to call you tonight, sugar?"

the sweet tone in your voice made logan's boxers feel tighter. resting his hand on top of his heavy cock, squeezing lightly and slowly stroking himself over the thin material.

"james is fine, honey." logan mutters.

"i like the way you call me, honey." you purr, getting relaxed in bed.

you had a long day; woke up late, missed class, messed up during important meeting at work and needed to blow off some steam. normally, the people you talk to over the phone don't have an effect on you, instead opting to fake it and offer phony pornstar like moans but something made you want to give it another shot.

"is that so?"

the stranger's voice was rough around the edges. deep, cold, straight to the point. it sent a shiver up your spine. usually, your customers were weak. willing to give into your every word and fully submit to you.

"mhm," you hum, lightly running your fingers up and down your thigh. "so, what's gotcha call in tonight, james? rough day at work or you just wanna hear me touch myself for you?"

"bit of both." he was already lost in this little world between the two of you.

“aw, can’t wait to make you feel good." you tell him, playing with the lace of your underwear. "wanna hear what i'm wearing right now?"

"mhm." he grunts.

"a white t-shirt and lacy blue underwear. wish you were here to take them off of me." you sigh, slipping your hand under the waistband.

"what would you do if i was there right now?"

"hmm, think i'd start by kissing you, making sure you get nice and hard for me then i would beg you to fuck my tight throat for hours. are you hard for me right now?"

"y-yes." logan sighs, trying to slow down a bit.

"that's sweet, james. got me blushing just thinkin' about it." you run your middle finger through your folds, gathering the slick and circling your button a couple times.

"just blushing?" he teases, catching you off guard.

"not 'just blushing'." you giggle softly. "you also got me r-really–ah, fuck! really soaked."

logan could hear the obscene squeak of you dipping your fingers inside of yourself. his chest moves up and down at the same rhythm as his strokes. your pretty little gasps made it difficult for him not to release right away.

"s-shit, honey." he groans, listening to the small wet slaps of you fucking yourself. "wanna taste that pussy of yours. i'm sure it's as sweet as that fuckin' mouth you got on you, honey."

never have you actually gotten wet from the men that call you. most of them let you do all the talking, only offering moans and whimpers. you couldn't quite place a finger on it but something about james was doing it for you.

"w-wish it was you inside of me instead of my fingers." you whine, tickling the spot that makes your vision blur.

"bet you would look so pretty wrapped around my cock, honey."

"i would look even prettier with you dripping out of me." faintly, you can hear him shuffling around, trying to stifle his groans. "don't hide yourself, baby. wanna hear you."

like a rubber band, something snapped inside of logan. unable to control his noises anymore, he's fucking his fist faster than before, chasing after every little moan you let out.

you move to rubbing your button switching occasionally, picturing the man that you believe james to be. a little older and rugged. maybe even someone your father would be friends with. someone you would definitely have a secret crush on.

logan's hips thrusted with need. the louder you got, the faster his orgasm was approaching. he had to hold off, he thought to himself. hear you cum first. by the broken whines and little hiccups you let out, he could tell you were only moments away from your release.

"f-fuck, i'm so close." you squeal, legs shaking a little as you near your high.

"me too, honey."

within seconds, your head is thrown back against the silky pillow case. the sheets under you were drenched but you were too full of bliss to care. logan finally allowed himself to let go as well, pearly white spurts coating his lower stomach and even some landing on his tank top. it's quiet for a minute or so before your little giggles can be heard on the other end of the line.

"something funny?" he asks, confused.

"no, no, it's just..." you giggle again with a sigh. "ever since i started this job, no one's ever made me orgasm. at least not like that."

"hm.." logan couldn't fight off the smile creeping on his face. "might need to call more often then."

"i'll be looking forward to it."

[wolviensabes]

Logan and pregnancy.

RQ: 'Logan taking care of his pregnant girlfriend perchance 🤔' -@wheezyth3dem0n

Warnings: F!reader, pregnancy themes, written in HC style.

A/N: I just wrote pregnancy hcs on my main blog so let's keep the theme going. Ignore grammar mistakes, not edited.

Logan knows you're pregnant instantly when the scent of your hormones change.

He looks to you and he isn't sure how to feel just yet. He hadn't planned on getting you pregnant, it wasn't something that he ever thought about. But it was his reality now, and he wasn't too sure on how to feel.

He was just a little wary jumping into something so permeant, considering your lifestyles. The dangers that are involved, all he thought about was how the baby would be in constant danger. Especially knowing it would most likely be mutant.

You were a little hurt, knowing he was a bit standoffish since the discovery, but after some thinking he had come around and explained what he was thinking about, and how he was just worried about its upbringing. It was reassuring that he comforted you in this sense, even if it initially hurt when he backed off.

"M'sorry, this is all...new to me. I never thought I'd be a dad...of all people." Logan grumbled to you, rubbing your back to try to reassure you that he was happy, it was just...a lot for him to take in.

When you begin to show, Logan's presence starts to become more and more. His missions are spread out a bit more, and he spends more time around you. At first, your pregnancy is mostly independent, besides him being around in the evening. You figure it's because he's still processing that you are carrying his kin, but as he starts to come around more often, you're surprised but decide not to mention it.

Logan starts to observe you closer, his hands often find your belly and rub it. He can hear the heartbeat, and he leans closer so he can rest by your belly. Most nights are like this when he's not holding you. He pays close attention to your habits, as well as schedule, memorizing everything you do day to day. When you get a little bigger, he notices daily tasks are a bit more difficult for you.

"Let me help," Logan insisted gruffly, watching you try to pick up clothes for laundry. He worded it more like a demand than offer, he didn't like how you were bending over so often.

"I got it, Logan, really," your stubbornness insisted you could handle it, but he had his doubts. He could see your clear struggle, he could sense you were tired but you were so stubborn.

"Enough." he demanded and gently pulled you away from the laundry, his arms strong around you and easily maneuvering you around. He sat you down and pointed at you. "Stay." he ordered.

Logan brings you food, he doesn't cook a lot but he still tries. He gets help from Jean or Storm. But he's always the one to bring it to you. He displays a lot of instinctual habits by now, especially since you're showing more now. Something inside him just...triggers when he sees your swollen belly. When you walk around the mansion for some exercise, he is right there with you, his eyes scanning the halls and every single person around you.

He growls at people who come close, he is so insanely protective over you now. It shocks you the first time he about lunges at Scott when he asked you how far along you were. "Logan!" you watched your feral boyfriend literally snarling at Scott.

"Get your eye off her, slim." he hissed, his voice was venomous and mean. Scott was just as surprised, even for Logan he was acting much more aggressive. You pulled Logan along, muttering an apology to Scott along the way.

"Logan what the hell! He was just asking how far I was," you muttered, your bristled boyfriend still had an irritated expression. His nostrils flared as he looked down at you. "Easy...it's fine. He's gone, just relax..." you rubbed your hands over his chest, soothing him from his protective mode.

He piles you into the shared room you have, he gets you all settled on the bed and cozy, there are so many blankets and pillows there and they act as excellent support for your large belly. He makes sure you're as comfy as possible, he fusses a lot by grumbling and making sure you have enough blankets. "Keep the baby warm." he grunts at you, covering you with a blanket as if your baby will get cold.

Logan likes to lay close to your belly, he can hear the baby and smell the change you emit because of all the hormones. He hears the baby moving around too, he enjoys listening to his little one in there.

You end up bound to the bed for a while, your ankles were so swollen and you were weak as the pregnancy progressed. You relied on him and he was more than happy to comply. He rubs your swollen ankles and feet, leaning forward and letting his facial hair tickle your belly.

When you feel your hormones flare, you get emotional and worried about labor and birth, all the normal worries for a mother to be. Logan sits with you and lets you vent your worries, but he is also the voice of reason during your emotional episodes. He always reassured you, telling you it would be alright, he was here with you, and he'd never let anything happen to you.

When your little one does arrive, it will be the most protected baby on the planet, not only the baby, but you too. Like hell anyone will get the chance to harm you with Logan by your side.

Thanks for reading.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[neil-gaiman]

hi neil. i've held off on writing this message for a bit because i didn't know if i could get it out or not.

i work in a senior healthcare facility. not a nurse or anything, i actually just serve food to the residents, but it's given me the ability to get to know a lot of the people that live there. because of this, i was able to befriend a wonderful lady named sally. she would always come talk to me while i served up the meals, and we'd have nice chats. she spent most of her time reading books, since she didn't like to do many of the activities with the other residents, and since she loved books with mystery and suspense, i loaned her my copy of american gods, thinking that she'd enjoy it. and she did! i loved it when she'd come talk to me about the chapter she'd just read, our little chats about wednesday, just everything. i was happy that she liked the book.

our chats kind of tapered off after awhile, and we didn't talk as much. she's had my book for well over a year now, which i hadn't minded, but she eventually started picking up our chats again, about the book. but she was talking about how she had just started reading it and that she was really interested in it so far. i came to realize some time later that sally was actually just finally showing signs of dementia, which was saddening for me to hear, but it's one of the heavy realities of working in a facility like this. she had always struggled with some memory and speech issues, but i'd always chalked it up to her older age.

anyway. i am saddened by this onset, but at the same time, i am also finding some strange comfort in knowing that she will come up to me at breakfast, wanting to talk to me about american gods, because she's forgotten that she's already read most of it, and she just reads the first few chapters over and over. she doesn't leave her room without it, she brings it to the table with her every day. when she leaves the facility with her family for an outing, she brings it with her. i am just. so comforted knowing that your book i loaned her a year ago is a source of joy and delight for her, and continues to be so over and over. i know i'll never get that book back, and i won't ever try to get it back from her, even if she stops reading it. i want her to keep it.

i now have a streak regarding losing my books that you've written, i'm two for two now, haha

idk. i'm just really kind of overwhelmed today by all the emotions surrounding it and i'm just happy that you wrote something that she likes so much, and that we talk about it even though she doesn't remember that we've talked about it a dozen times before. i love each and every chat with her so much, and i want to keep having them with her for as long as i can. thank you for your work.

Some of the happiest hours of my life were spent with a friend with advanced Parkinson's dementia, sitting on his porch with him, both of us reading. And he read the same few pages over and over and it was okay.

[starswallowingsea]

okay i decided to do a random number generator and some tarot cards so uhm. lets see. this is just spitballing ideas under the cut btw not an actual fic

for the characters i got yuzuru and mao, and i pulled the chariot, the three of swords, and the magician. so i think this is a deviation from the canon of the game in the ! era, at least in my mind, though i'd need to read more trickstar and fine stories to really do this idea justice and clean it up so just take this as me word vomiting a plot onto a post.

there are minor parallels between mao and yuzuru and their roles in their respective units, given that both of them take on more work than they should and are in the student council, combined with yuzuru's being tori's butler. they get along well enough and mao calls yuzuru by his given name now so its not like they get along poorly. this is all i have gathered just from quickly skimming mao's wiki page and their section on the relationships page.

i think...this fic would be a deviation from the canon in that trickstar doesnt come out on top and are defeated by fine and their counterparts from it (ie hokuto and eichi, wataru and subaru?, mao and yuzuru and i guess that leaves makoto and tori but i am not versed in trickstar lore very well so take this with a mountain of salt i never said this was going to be good) but which happens after they have developed this relationship where at least mao consideres yuzuru a friend and now that's just. shattered.

yuzuru doesn't necessarily realize in the moment what their relationship was to him until its broken before him on the stage as he pushes forward with fine until the very end, and it sinks in a little afterwards, maybe a few days, when mao is suddenly very very cold to him at the student council meetings. whatever amiability there had been before is gone, and there's no getting it back any time soon.