#it’s all just fun at the end of the day!!!

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Danny's Did you know?

Danny is a contact creator.

He started off as a kid who wanted to dump info about space or other interests, making it more "Did you Know" as his theme, but his channel really took off the first time he invited a ghost to speak about the era that came before.

No one knows Sidney Poindexter is a ghost. Ghosts usually do not appear on camera; if they do, they are always a blur or barely visible outline. That doesn't come into play when the camera happens to belong to the Ghost King, who is unaware of the title.

Due to this, the ghosts, as his guest stars, turn out to look like normal human beings. There is no glow, no see-through effect, and the only odd thing about them is how they dress.

Even Poindexter's coloring could be explained with some well-done make-up.

They think he's just someone wearing a costume and pretending to be from the 1950s, using information Danny had researched. Danny's interview with Poindexter became an instant hit among those who applauded the genuine authenticity of what the 1950s actually were like.

Not only that, but Poindexter's reactions to modern terms and objects that Danny presents are hilarious to the viewers, as he never once broke character. There is even an entire section where both grumble about the bullying issue in their shared high school.

A particular scene becomes a trending meme.

"Did you know Dr. Seuss coined the word "Nerd" in 1950? He used it in the book If I Ran the Zoo," Danny tells Poindexter.

The other teenager rolls his eyes. "Of course, I knew. It was published in my first year of High school. I was one of the first to be called nerd, you know? It would have been more impressive if it didn't take the entire football team four days to read."

"Four days!?"

"Dr. Seuss's writing style saved the American reading levels back in my day."

"So we have always been stupid, huh?"

Danny's next guest is Johnny 13, a biker from the early 1980s who spends most of his time flirting with Danny—who doesn't acknowledge the attempts—and proudly tells the viewers he may have been there, but he was too poor to know much about the 1980s.

"What were the trends in that era?" Danny asks Johnny after considering his notes.

The biker shrugs. "I think cellphones? They were too expensive for me or my block. Never saw one in real life before I died."

"Well, one trend was waterbeds. Did you know that waterbeds were invented in the 60s? They were made by a design student but weren't popular until the 80s, making them popular for the sudden rise of sex appeal." Danny says with a cheerful grin.

Johnny 13 tilts his head, considering his words. "Radical. I couldn't afford a mattress, much less a waterbed, but I bet they were fun. If you can get your hands on one, I would happily show you how fun they can be."

Danny rolls his eyes and then considers something. "If you couldn't afford a mattress, how did you get your bike then?"

"I stole it. Car theft was effortless back then after hotwiring took off." Johnny's smirk turns dark. "I stole to keep myself fed. Bad luck followed you everywhere when you started at America's rock bottom. Only crime could get you out, and even then, life was shit."

Danny reaches out and pats his shoulder. "At least you got to live through one of the best eras in our history."

"Nah, I died in 1983. I missed it, but do you know who actually got to live it? Ember. She died in 1990."

Next week, Ember strikes an alarming resemblance to the one-hit-wonder singer Ember McLain, who had nearly made it big a few years ago.

"What were the 80s like?"

"Terrible, everyone hated me in school, and AIDS was killing all my friends."

Danny pauses for a long moment, looking horror-struck, until Ember shrugs, "But Glam rock was made popular, which was kind of cool."

"Glam?"

Ember smirked at the host, holding her guitar. "Want to hear some?"

By the end of her performance, everyone was losing their mind that Danny Fenton somehow knew a big name like Ember Mclain, and her music once again started to trend. So much so she released another song called "Lost," dedicated to all her fallen friends who died in the AIDS epidemic.

It goes on and on, with each new video showcasing different times and people from those backgrounds. Tim Drake never misses an episode as a dedicated follower of Danny's Did You Know?

He also thought it was a gimmick to make the show entertaining and thought nothing of the hilarious conversations—not when the host was such adorable eye candy.

Things are normal until Tim watches Danny interview Greta Hayes, who died in the late 90s. His very dead, very much a ghost teammate who happily tells the story of her life while looking like an ordinary girl for the first time.

It's not even someone dressed up as her. She makes an apparent reference to some slang Bart uses, and a few of the team's inside jokes are sprinkled into the conversation.

Tim feels a headache coming on. After watching the episode, he grinned darkly as he picked up his phone and called Bruce.

"So we may have a problem. Either a necromancer with an insane amount of skill or something similar. We need to go to Amity Park to investigate Danny Fenton."

Bruce sighs. "Tim, I am not helping you stalk your internet crush-"

"It's not stalking. It's detective work!"

[maxv331]

✮ What happened to hello | Lando Norris ✮

Summary: Quick little drabbled based on all the speculation of Lando getting a bad haircut because he wore his hat so much at the Mexican GP

Warning: none :)

word count: 848

a/n: I haven't wrote in a long time so I'm pretty rusty, go easy on me! I also wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to wrap up the ending, so yeah, sorry for that!

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“Take the hat off Lando” You playfully demand with a squint of your eyes as soon as Lando’s face appears on your laptop screen. 

You’re currently on day 14 of being apart since Lando left for the triple-header and it’s eating you both alive. You haven’t been apart for longer than seven days at a time, in almost a year. Everyone around you, even the fans, call you two codependent, but really, you were just in love and wanted to spend as much time together as possible. 

Between the time zone differences and you both working so much, you’ve found it difficult to spend much time together. You’ve found comfort in being able to keep up with Lando from all of the fan and official F1 content posted online. 

You’ve gotten a giggle out of all the speculation surrounding Lando’s hair. It started on the first media day in Mexico, when it appeared Lando had gotten a haircut, but his hat stayed on the entire day. 

The next day was when the rumors actually started, Lando hadn’t taken his hat off again and every fan you came across was freaking out and cracking jokes that Lando got a bad haircut and was embarrassed about it. 

Initially, aside from enjoying all the posts, you hadn’t given it much thought, assuming Lando was mostly wearing the hat because of the heat; but then you realized Lando hadn’t sent you any photos without the hat on, and the handful of late night facetimes you had, he was already in bed with his hoodie up and it was mostly dark. 

Whenever you and Lando are apart, you always made sure to keep each other still included in the day to day parts of your lives; you were always sending photos, videos and voice notes until you could facetime or be with each other again. 

Lando hadn’t changed your familiar routine, he just never had hair showing, which was a little odd, but nothing concerning. You admittingly missed the post shower selfies or the sweaty, messy haired, tired post race selfies. 

You’re instantly met with a giggle from Lando “What happened to hello baby.” Lando’s sat in his drivers room, he’d got a couple hours break between practice and qualifying and wanted to make the most of your shared free time to squeeze in a quick facetime with you.

“Hello baby” You grinned cheekily. “I’ve missed you so much, did you get a bad haircut?” You giggled 

Lando raised an eyebrow as another giggle slipped past his lips. “Did I get a bad haircut?” 

You nodded quickly “You haven’t taken your hat off the entire time you’ve been in Mexico, so show me”

“And how would you know that, hmm?” Lando asked with a smirk. Lando was initially confused, but now all he wanted was to play into the fun he was having. 

A bright rosy blush crept up your cheeks as you briefly glanced away from Lando on the screen. Lando’s now grinning mischievously, enjoying getting to tease you. “Do I need to talk to Osc or have you been creeping on me?” 

Before you even get a chance to answer, Lando starts giggling again and shaking his head. You pout and cross your arms. “A bad haircut is the only explanation for the hat and not getting my selfies”

“Your selfies?” Lando questions, once again raising an eyebrow. He knows exactly what selfies you’re talking about, but one thing about Lando Norris is that he loves to tease his girlfriend.

“I want my post race selfies back Lando” 

Lando smiles widely, taking a moment to take in all of your soft sweet features. Lando hadn’t intentionally been keeping anything from you, the few days he had been in Mexico had been busier than usual and it slipped his mind. “I’m sorry my love, I promise you’ll get one after quali”

“I better” You murmur, arms still crossed against your chest. You did miss the selfies, but you weren’t actually annoyed with him, in fact any feelings that even remotely resembled annoyance or hurt from the past few days all stem from a place of missing Lando. 

Lando knows you better than you know yourself, so he knows that if he doesn’t do something in the next few minutes, the call is going to take a sharp turn from playful and fun to somber and probably leave at least one of you in tears. Neither you or Lando were one to shy away from your emotions, but if Lando could hold off on it, until he could guarantee you his undivided love and attention, that's what he’s going to do. 

Lando winks at you, before taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair. “Is that better my love?”

A small gasp passes your lips, before you break out into the widest smile that Lando had seen in weeks. “Lando!” You squeal happily. “You look so handsome, why have you been hiding your hair?”

“I haven’t been hiding my hair, you doughnut,” Lando laughed. “It’s hot and I like my hat”

[chessalein]

If you like what we write, please leave us a little comment and a kudo! Just a Kudo is fine too, but let us know that you like our work.

I know we do it for fun, but we still love to know that somone likes what we do. That someone truly looks at it.

Each Kudo and each comment, even if its a short "That was a good read :)" will bless us with happiness and motivation. We would die for you, you who took your personal time to read what we made. When we write the next chapter, we will think of you.

"I hope [your name here] likes it :)"

We will post it an see it as a little present we put on your doorstep.

We might even worry too much about if this chapter was too boring for you.

We write our stories for fun, yes, but we also write it for you all, to share it with you. We need a validation that we are doing good as well.

Don't you want praise for things you do good as too? Don't you feel happy when someone tells you the shoes you bought are stunning? That the food you made tastes wonderful? that the post you made is hilarious? Most of you do these things for fun as well, right?

So hit that Kudo button when you reached the end, leave a comment that could even be three simple hearts and remember that now someone isn't just writing a story to share it with the net, its a story they share with you in mind 💖

Thank you for comming to my ted talk.

Have a beautiful day 💖I have a fanfic to write.

crazy how fanfic authors drop the most beautiful and gorgeous pieces of work ever, leaving you speechless and sobbing at three in the morning as you quietly contemplate the masterpiece you just read

and they don’t get paid for it they just do it because they’re having fun and they want to share their joy with you

like I would literally die for all of you fanfic authors out there reblog to swear your allegiance to fanfic authors

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ

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

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

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

ꨄ words: 10.5k

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

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎

ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too late,” he whispers back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”

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

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

“How do I look?” you pose playfully.

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

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

“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru clears his throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”

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

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

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

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

“Okay, got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.

Haru barely spares a second glance.

“Nope! The stem is too small.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haru’s face lights up with pride.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re impossible…” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Haru.

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

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

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

“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”

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

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

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

“Promise ‘toru?”

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recognition.

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

No such luck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just us, huh?” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now, that’s all that matters.

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

taglist:

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

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

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

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer @elliesndg

@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

[coollizzylou]

Everyone’s correct in saying that now more than ever we need to be building our communities, but it can be difficult to know what that actually *means*, especially in our isolating society. So here’s some straightforward practical advice I’ve learned over the few years I’ve been organizing in my own life.

You do not have to reinvent the wheel.

There are people who have been fighting this fight for decades. You are not starting from scratch. You do not have to do it all by yourself. All you have to do is find your allies and engage.

On the ground resistance movements/aid organizations that have legs under them may not have much of a social media presence. You may have to do some legwork find your place.

Check the local papers if you have one for your area. Sign up for your city government newsletter. Go to the library and ask what events are being hosted. Check Churches! Schools! Small businesses! Ask your local old ladies!!!! They have time on their hands and know what’s going on in their communities.

It’s ok if you don’t know anything. Listen to the people around you, ask questions, be respectful and curious. Just show up!! As you do this, you will learn more about the place you’re in and the people that live there. Those people will guide you, and there’s a non-zero chance that you’ll find a mentor willing to take you under their wing.

The logistics make the movement.

Demonstrations are important and powerful, but they are NOT the be all end all. Not even close.

There are people who’s job it is to take notes, people who host meetings, and people who pick up snacks. Some folks are especially good at getting the word out through tabling and canvasing, others are better at making the pamphlets that get handed out. You could be in charge of carrying heavy boxes of donated food, or you might be better suited preparing a hot meal sitting at the table. Are you able to watch young children? Drive carpool?

All of these tasks and more are essential to maintaining a healthy community group. Don’t be afraid to try new things and experiment to figure out where you can do the most good.

Your stories are your power

One of the most effective tools in your arsenal are your testimonies. When shared with friends they remind us we are not alone in our struggles. When shared with adversaries, they are undeniable proof of our humanity. You can quote facts and statistics all day, but a personal experience will always punch above it’s weight.

Think over your life and explore questions of what your personal stake in the game is. What about your life makes you want to fight. Really dig in deep. This can be uncomfortable. I recommend doing this among friends and being gentle with yourself. You don’t have to have any particularly special reason. This isn’t supposed to be performative. You aren’t trying to get a good grade in leftism, your goal is to identify your self interest. For example, I first got involved with the tenet union because I wanted to go to college in the city but knew I couldn’t afford to live there. I first got involved with planned parenthood because I was scared when Roe v Wade overturned. These are selfish reasons, they have to be for this to work.

With that information, you are prepared to sit with other people and ask them the same thing. If you are open and willing to listen to people’s stories, a casual conversation can lead to strong bonds of friendship. And when you’re friends with someone, you fight for them. This is the core of relational organizing.

There is joy here

Organizing can be difficult. Many things are in life. But from personal experience I can tell you that not only is this work worth it, but it can be *fun*. You can sing and dance and play music and scream and laugh and you’ll do it all together. Hold onto your hope, find your joy where you can, and take the plunge. You’ll be better for it, I promise.

[mrsriddlenott]

okay I just need pussydrunk mattheo 🥵

It is honestly embarrassing how long this has been in my drafts unfinished(literally a few days over a year🤦‍♀️) I have been awol for so long but I have been GOIN through it y’all. I think I can finally at least try and actually come back to this blog. I love writing so much and I hate when it just isn’t fun anymore. And when I saw this I actually got excited to finish it so let’s see how it goes. Please correct mistakes and give feedback

Warnings: suggestive content but not actually full smut, public oral(f!receiving), heavy petting, play argument/kinda roleplay, some teasing.

{masterlist}

~Needy~

To plenty of people having a needy boyfriend would be the end of the world. But when that boyfriend is Mattheo Riddle, who seems to have an unnaturally high labido and stamina, it’s more of a pro rather than a con.

But what comes with needy is clingy. Mattheo just needs his hands on you whenever he can. You weren’t complaining but he certainly was. There was just too much time out of the day that he couldn’t touch you. So me made sure to cut thay time down as much as he could.

“Come oooon Baby” Mattheo groaned as he tugged you towards an empty, shadow filled corridor, “Just think about it, how many days a week do we have Potions, and how many weeks are in a term, how many terms in a school year….we can miss one hour of Potions Baby it’ll be fine. Plus you’re the smartest, prettiest, hottest person at this school you’ve got options for you future.”

“Um first of all,” You start, crossing your arms across your chest, poking your hip out to make Mattheo groan out loud as he restrains himself from touching you, “This will be the fourth time we missed Potions so far this term, and second of all who said I was worried for my future, nuh uh Baby I’m worried about yours.”

“Merlin you’re sexy when you’re being all bossy”Mattheo sighs, stepping closer to you and fanning your face with his breath, “I don’t care about my future as long as you’re in it, I need to keep you excited don’t I Princess?” He laughs out as he watches your resolve melt away, moving his hand up to grip your waste.

“That’s no fair.” You pout, desperately trying to hold a straight face as you continue, “You know you’re not allowed to call me Princess in an argument, you always win with that.” Mattheo sighs dramatically and steps even closer to you, breathing your air as he holds your hip tightly, tugging you into him aggressively.

“I’m so sorry baby, please forgive me,” He begs dramatically, smiling before dipping his head into the crook beside your shoulder to trace small pecks across your collarbone, forcing a moan to slip past your lips despite your pretend protests.

“How could I ever forgive you for such a lapse Mattheo,” you smile at how fast he halts his mouths assault of your collarbone giving you time to slip your fingers into his raven curls, giving them a tug to force his eyes up to yours, “You know, I can think of something you can do to earn my forgiveness.”

“What?” He rasps out, his breath caught in his chest at the feeling of your hand in his hair and the other slowly slipping down his chest at an agonizing pace, “What can I do to make you feel better Baby, I’ll do anything for you, you know that.” His voice his breathy and desperate, sending heat down your abdomen as your thighs squeeze together subconsciously. At the gentle shove to his shoulder, Mattheo knew exactly what you wanted, smirking as you looked down to him where he leant into you with those pretend innocent eyes. Mattheo fell to his knees immediately, his hands tracing their way under your skirt while his eyes stay on yours.

“Is this what you’re asking for…Princess?” Mattheo asks, smirking as he gains dominance from below you, “You want me to make you feel good?….But Baby what about Potions, we-we can’t miss class i-it’s impo-“ You cut off his teasing with a tug to his hair and small sigh at the feeling of his hand ghosting across your underwear. Mattheo groans, his eyes falling into the back of his head as your fingers tighten in his hair.

“Okay okay, I’ve got you Princess.” He laughs breathlessly as his fingers tug your underwear down your legs, allowing you to step out of them before he shoves them in his pocket with a wink. In a flash Mattheo has his lips on you, his head vanishing under your skirt, his hand trailing upward to squeeze at your chest through your button up, the other gripping your thigh to give you support as you begin to wobble.

“Oh fuck Mattheo,” You moan loudly before clamping your hand over your mouth, almost forgetting your very public location at the feeling of Mattheo’s tongue meticulously swirling around your clit. His chuckle from below almost pisses you off enough to fight for dominance but as though to wipe your mind of it, Mattheo flattens his tongue and leaves a strip up your heat, making you whimper into your hand and bite your skin to prevent getting caught.

You shake as Mattheo’s fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh while it wobbles, unsteady as you begin to lose balance at the fast pace of Mattheo’s tongue, “Fuck Baby, can you stand or do I need to hold you?” He chuckles against you at your whine of protest, not wanting him to stop even for a second. Mattheo quickly tugs your thigh over his shoulder, allowing him to gain more access, speeding up his actions, moaning at your taste and the thought of you coming on his face as you depend on him to hold you steady. Your head falls back against the stone wall, your eyes rolling backward as your hand falls to his shoulders for balance not caring anymore about your volume. Your little whimpers and squeaks drive him insane below you, he knows your close, he can feel it.

Without warning Mattheo shifts lower, shoving his tongue into you, lowering his hand from your chest in a flash and using his thumb to stimulate your clit as his tongue moves in and out of you, matching his own pace and groaning as he feels your legs begin to shake for him. Your moans become screams as you release on his tongue, falling into his hold while he rises to look at your post-orgasm face he loves so much.

“Good thing we did this during class, someone might have heard otherwise.” Mattheo says simply with a laugh as you weakly smack at his broad shoulder.

~~~~

Pretty short compared to others I have but I just really wanted to start posting again. I’m probably gonna be cleaning out my drafts and trying to get them out even old ones ppl probably aren’t waiting on anymore to try and get back into a groove on here.

[britcision]

(Oh boy I went to a School so uh we had a lot)

- the time a guy on my bus punched out the principal directly next to the bus and then hopped on. They called the cops the next day to see if he showed up.

He did. They suspended him for six months. The principal got a restraining order which made the rest of the school year… interesting for them

The principal did not return the next year

- one year our fun math teacher bet his grade 12 class that the teachers would win the staff vs student hockey game in September

The closer we got to game time (possibly January idk) the more all of the teachers started wearing their jerseys, broke into each others’ classes for planning sessions (completely separate from their normal invading each others’ classes to sell each other weed)

They had pump up music in the halls between classes, all the teachers wore their hockey jerseys on completely uncoordinated days so they didn’t even wear them all at once

Pretty sure the fun math teacher wore Braveheart style face paint the day before but since uh it is the staff vs the students of the same school they didn’t exactly have team colours

Preeeetty sure he promised to let them shave his head at the end of school assembly if the students won, but I did not exactly have an attendance record so I didn’t go to that

(About 80% sure they did it anyway although I never found out who won the game, I also did not attend that)

Next year? Completely back down to previous levels of mild interest from all involved. May/may not be related to the aforementioned change in principals

- the new principal we got was A Whole Fucking Thing, by the way. Apparently she’d had trouble at her last three schools and then got sent… to us? For some reason?

Where she:

Tried to defund the entire Arts department and tell us we couldn’t have a musical that year. We had one anyway

Switched Fun Math Teacher and Fun Music Teacher who just so happened to have the same name so they had to teach each others’ subjects for the year (they were VERY upset, tried to fix it multiple times, and then just suffered through)

Tried to get the cops to patrol the pines where all the stoners hung out, smoked, and enacted clan warfare

Painted over all the murals which had been done by graduating classes leading back a century

Replaced said historic murals with badly laid out and uneven “motivational” quotes that made no sense

Instituted hall monitoring and hall passes, mandatory for the whole school. Our drama teacher (who fought to the death for said musical) blatantly encouraged us all to flaunt that rule, lose the pass, and use any challenges as an improv exercise. One time she let 10 people go at once because we needed pencils and no one brought those to drama class, so she just told them to scatter and all claim they had her pass. I don’t think she had a pass

We. Uh. Retaliated in kind, including a school wide walk out organized by the goddamn stoners (You Know You Fucked Up When)

I was interviewed by the news cuz I had hippy hair by sheer coincidence that day

And a little before the end of the school year we were all assured that she was being “promoted” to a desk job somewhere in the board of education and would never work in a school again

(I had a couple friends who went to the school she’d been at right before ours. They were very impressed and supported our actions)

- again, I did not attend end of school anything, but one year the fun math teacher faked a zipline by stringing a line to the stage and getting the English teachers to push him on a skateboard

I suspect they were influenced by memes because no way in hell could we do an actual zipline

- in my last year a fight broke out between two girls in the cafeteria. An entirely commonplace event, except while the two of them were just rolling around on the ground a third girl came over

Circled them a few times examining the fight from all angles

And began kicking the shit out of both of them indiscriminately

We suspect she knew them but probably not what the fight was about. She won though

- actually I dunno if the staff vs student hockey game was even a thing other high schools did but every year the grade 12s fielded a team to play against the teachers

The teachers usually won by dint of having a consistent team that played together for multiple years, while the school hockey team was mixed grades

- oh and not exactly an incident but the hot math teacher used to dress up as Indiana Jones for Halloween every year and if you sharpened your pencil and then put it down he’d throw it into the ceiling to see if it stuck

We never warned the next class in if a pencil had gotten stuck because sometimes they just fell down in the middle of class it was great

- one of my sister’s friends exclusively drew dragons for art class. The next four years the art teacher banned anyone from submitting dragons for anything

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Floyd Leech: Cinderella Step

GOOD GOD, FLOYD 😭 Put your grippers AWAY, I don’t wanna see those… (flashbacks to the horror of Dorm Uniform Jade groovy)

P.S. You should listen to Cinderella Step by Daoko :)) I enjoy it a lot, and it’s also the song that I named this ficlet after. I feel like that first full line (“Though you are the worst, I can’t help but love you”) is very evocative of the NRC boys 😂

Rise and Shine!

It was easy to tell which side of the room was Floyd's. It always looked like a hurricane had run through, scattering clothes all over every avaliable surface. Snack crumbs are sprinkled like a generous garnish on his desk and shelf. His belongings—interesting odds and ends he had collected over the weeks—were similarly strewn haphazardly, wherever there was free space to be occupied.

There was only one thing that the storm seemed to have missed.

His shoes.

A glossy black--patent leather. Large yet sleek, tapering into pointed toes. It was the same pair he wore every day with his school uniform, yet there was not so much as a scratch or a speck of dirt on them.

Pristine.

The one thing he takes good care of, you thought. Must be magic.

Other shoes sat in neat rows on a rack. Boots, sneakers, sandals, in shapes and colors you've never even imagined. The variety astounded you.

Floyd bounded about the room collecting his things. He hopped around on one leg, slipping on a sock, then alternated to the other leg. Next he slung his blazer, still slightly wrinkled from having been crumpled and tossed over a chair last night, on over his prim grey-lilac vest. His striped tie was forgotten, left forlorn on his bed as he yoinked the patent leather shoes and slipped them on.

“‘K, I’m ready," Floyd announced cheerily. "Let’s get going, koebi-chan~"

You stared at his messy room. "You're not going to tidy up a little before heading out?"

He blinked. "Hmm? Why would I? Stuff's gonna shift around anyway, so there's no point in doing that."

Floyd strolled out, hands casually tucked in his pockets. You followed after him, falling in time with his footsteps. Today, they were long and languid, like waves lazily combing the beach.

You knew what that meant; good mood, best to not disturb it.

"... Right." You offered a small, reassuring smile. “Hey, I noticed that you have a lot of shoes—and you take such good care of them.”

“Yeah. Cuz we don’t really have’m where I come from. Gotta make the most of my human experience and all.”

"You don't exactly dress in a shirt and pants under the sea either," you pointed out with a shrug.

“Shoes are special.” He said it with surprisingly conviction, an uncharacteristic seriousness set in his eyes. "You kinda need them to do the things humans do every day, least without getting nagged at. Jumping, dancing, strolling down the street."

“All this talk about footwear… You sound like Cinderella.”

“Ehh… Do I give you those vibes?” There was a crackle entangled with his words.

“You’re the kind of guy that would sneak out if Azul told you to stay put.” You paused, then added, “just to prove a point.”

He gave a razor-sharp grin in response. “Touché.”

Floyd glanced down at his feet. His eyes barely lingered there for half a second before they flicked to yours. “Glass slippers sound cool though.”

“Glass slippers? Really? You’re not scared they’d break…? I thought you’d be into more durable shoes. Something easy to move around in.”

“I’d try’m on at least once, as long as it’s not lame lookin’. I’ll try anything at least once. Glass slippers, a puss’s boots, ballet flats from twelve dancing princesses, shoes made by elves…”

“Even cursed shoes?” you asked. “Professor Trein was telling us about them the other day. Put them on, and you’re cursed to dance forever and ever—or at least until you collapse from exhaustion.”

Floyd made a face. “Nah. Dancing’s fun, but not if you do it all the time. I’d get sick of it.”

"There’s more than one way of dancing.”

“Duh. I know that. But it’ll still get pretty boring after a while.”

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head, your feet coming to a stop. “Dancing’s a lot like having a conversation, except your mouth doesn’t ever need to move. You just let your body do the talking.”

Your legs criss-crossed in a quick jig. "This is being excited." Standing on your toes, you carefully elevated yourself. "This is whispering." Putting all your weight into your feet, you stomped. "And this is shouting!"

Floyd watched your demonstration in silence. Gold, right. Olive, left. Together, mysterious and mirthful.

“Sounds fun,” he piped up at last. “I want in on this."

Before you had the chance to respond, Floyd's had had already latched onto yours. The other wrapped around your waist, tugging you against his chest. You lurched against him, and the sound of his raspy laughter filling your eardrums.

“You wanna dance? Let’s dance. Then you tell me what my dancing says to you.”

“W-Wait, Floyd…!”

He didn’t.

Floyd strung you along and down the street, swinging you erratically in his arms. With his long limbs swaying, he moved as naturally as a fish amid coral. For a creature of the sea, he had such grace on land that you could never tell his true origins.

He was the wind, a water current, a wayward traveler. Constantly changing and never truly contained.

Your panic and surprise easily melted into light-hearted laughter. And your feet, too, began to weave freely, as if wading on the shoreline, drawing indiscriminate shapes in the sand.

Realization struck you when you looked at him again. Your heart went thump-thump-thump, in a frantic little dance of its own.

What he’s trying to convey is…

Floyd met your gaze, sparks flying. His fingers interlocked with yours, he leaned in and grinned. Cheeks ruddy, eyes shining with exhibition.

“We don’t need words. Just our dancin’ shoes and each other!”

[won4kiss]

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────THE BEST GIFTS AREN’T UNDER THE TREE : TEASER

୨୧ SYPNOSiS. you and park sunghoon don’t exactly get along. you’re coworkers who seem to have nothing in common— polar opposties. he’s the polished guy from a wealthy family, while you’re just trying to make ends meet and keep your personal life private. but when an awkward run-in at the pharmacy reveals more about your struggles than you ever wanted anyone to know—maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought—maybe the person who drives you the craziest might just be the one who gets you best.

୨୧ GENRE. office romance, enemies to lovers, fluff & christmas romcom hallmark movie themed, minimal angst.

୨୧ PAiRING. enemy! park sunghoon x fem! reader, rich!sunghoon x not very rich! reader, type 1 diabetic! reader | ps. shout out to all my t1d girls this is for u !! <3

୨୧ EST WORD COUNT: 8K-9.5K.

୨୧ RELEASE DATE: NOVEMBER 7TH, 2024.

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

PROLOGUE.

YOU’RE BALANCING TWO STEAMING CUPS OF OFFICE COFFEE WHEN YOU SPOT HIM—PARK SUNGHOON.

he’s leaning casually against your desk with that infuriatingly confident smirk.

it’s the same smirk he’s worn since the day you met, the one that says he’s got the world wrapped around his little finger—and for a second, you wish you could spill one of these coffees just to wipe it off his face.

“didn’t realize you worked here part-time,” he chuckles, watching you as you finally reach your desk, carefully setting down the cups. “or are you just on a different schedule than the rest of us?”

you don’t take the bait—instead, you shoot him a tight smile as you slip off your coat, doing your best to ignore him. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

but, of course, he’s not done. “how’s that report going? the one that was supposed to be on my desk by, oh, i don’t know… yesterday?”

you sigh, bracing yourself. “some of us don’t have a personal assistant, sunghoon. i’m working on it. it’ll be done by noon.”

“just making sure.” he leans forward, lowering his voice, and for a moment his eyes meet yours with an unsettling intensity. “wouldn’t want you to fall behind.”

there’s a glimmer in his gaze that’s hard to read—almost like he’s daring you, or testing you, in a way that makes your skin prickle.

you swallow, telling yourself it’s just typical sunghoon. overconfident, ridiculously privileged, and completely insufferable.

“trust me, i don’t need reminders from you,” you reply, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

“clearly,” he says, that smirk still firmly in place as he straightens, crossing his arms. “oh, and by the way…” he glances down, eyes flicking briefly to the empty space on your desk before meeting your gaze again, his smile softening just enough to make you suspicious.

“you missed the secret santa sign-up sheet this morning.”

you freeze, hiding your surprise with what you hope is a casual shrug. “not really my thing.”

sunghoon raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “too bad. i was looking forward to seeing what you’d buy me. but then again…” he steps back, shrugging. “i guess not everyone’s in the christmas spirit this year.”

with that, he strolls away, leaving you standing there, pulse racing for reasons you can’t explain.

his words linger, making you feel strangely unsettled—almost like he knows more about you than he should.

and as you sit down, you realize, with a small jolt of annoyance, that sunghoon’s somehow managed to do it again.

even without trying, he’s gotten under your skin, leaving you wondering if he’s challenging you… or if there’s something more to it than that. whatever the reason, you knew one thing for certain—

park sunghoon is going to be the death of you this christmas.

LiBRARY | © won4kiss all rights reserved.

NOTE. IN HONOUR OF CHRISTMAS SEASON !! fun fact my birthdays on christmas eve so im actually the biggest christmas girl ever 🧘‍♀️ i’m also type 1 diabetic and luckily i have free health care atm but to all the people who do struggle with paying for insulin and everything, I’m so sorry :(

[yanmuffins]

the way I screamed when you said you were going to write a fanfic about Phineas and Ferb reader-

giggling, kicking my feet, twirling my hair, squealing like a highschooler who just got their first crush-

aniway, more about the reader and Damian! think about the crazy adventures that the reader would drag Damian into, they way he would keep insisting that it was just so he could collect enough evidence about the crazy things reader did so he could get them busted, but deep down, they both know he was having just as much fun as reader was while blowing shit up, going into the space to steal back the moon, going into the past to see real life dinosaurs and etc

and when Batfam finds out everything, he can't deny that he misses when it was just the two of them and a new gadget Reader created to entertain them all day long

sad, sad ending... AND THEN THE SECRET OF THE PLATYPUS IS REVEALED

even the reader is shocked, but they are supportive and understanding immediately

In the corner, Batman is about to faint because seriously, how many more secrets will this family discover in the space of a week? First the only child he thought was normal in this crazy ass vigilante family turns out to be an engineering genius bordering on Bob the Builder crime lord version, and then he discovers that he has given that same child permission to build insane shit in his backyard and now, the goddamn platypus is an goverment agent and is an active member of the JL, and also, CLARK KNEW!

dear lord, i have a lot of free time (also, same anon from the previous ask, hi!)

context &. context.

hi, anon! ヾ(>ω<○)

damian and phineas! reader's relationship has so much potential!

tbh as upset as he initially is no longer being the only blood child, i don't think he would straight up bully reader. rather, he brushes them off after deciding they are, indeed, just an unworthy illegitimate child with no remarkable skills (stellar perfomance at school doesn't count. neither do all those medals, trophies and awards they won in science fairs and international competitions that they proudly display in their bedroom). he limits himself to passive-aggressive quips that go over reader's head, scowling, unwillingness to engage and be friendly.

they're not a threat to him – his position in the family is unperturbed, he still gets undivided attention from father and his other siblings while they apparently couldn't care less about the newest addition to the waynes.

until reader's first summer vacation in gotham rolls in. one day they're back at their old neighborhood in metropolis helping their friend sell lemonade and the other they're creating something called s'winter in bruce wayne's backyard. it's preposterous, dangerou, reckless, and he needs to tell his father. but then it disappears, it keeps disappearing, the family keeps missing those insane gadgets that are so obvious and he can barely stand it!

that's when he becomes glued at the hip with their sibling: the goal is to expose them to the rest of the family, obviously. he's dedicated to busting reader's summer fun at first, he still very much dislikes his sibling, the deluxe treehouse they built him is totally not cool at all, but... well. maybe they're not so bad. he won't admit it out loud, but it's impressive that they can come up with so many creative schemes and bring them to life in a day. and he's got some cool memories out of it too.

so when reader is busted, it feels... weird. now he has to share their attention with everyone else (as if sharing it with jon and your stupid friends wasn't bad enough), and the family wants to keep them cooped up at home when there's plenty of mischief the two of them could be getting up to outside!

also, yup yup yup!! this is a visual representation of bruce finding out everything, from reader to platypus. i think clark knowing everything might make him want to just go bluescreen mode.

[enigmagp]

I think part of the charm is that the characters are all ludicrous but feel really earnest, nobody’s, for the most part, stopping to give the screen a Bug’s Bunny look, and when they quip it doesn’t feel like it deflates the tension.

I actually went back to rewatch the Themberchaud scene, and the delivery is such an important part, sure they joke about Themberchaud being so overweight, “That’s one pudgy dragon,” “did he eat the last one?”

But they actually do sound panicked making their jokes, and the quips come from the barbarian, who generally stays calm under pressure, and their bard, who realistically feels like he’s using humor to keep his head.

Seriously, compare their delivery to Ultron and Ironman joking about omelettes, it’s like night and day.

And once the chase starts, that’s it for jokes, he may visually be comedic but the characters are taking Themberchaud 100% seriously as a threat. The next spoken joke isn’t until the very end, and it’s not any of the characters making a joke! It’s just two characters being funny in the way their personalities interact.

They feel like real people, they get fed up with finicky magic, like the helmet not working and the speak with dead rule, they fuck up regularly, they come up with inane plans, it’s fun.

Still in awe of how well the D&D movie mimicked the feeling of D&D without doing anything as tediously literal as a "sitting around the table" framing device. The way some characters have names that sound like names a DM improvised on the spot, the sudden appearance and disappearance of a overpowered DM NPC for a single dungeon, the way they used the fact that characters can plausibly just mess up for no clear reason to escalate action scenes...that was cinema

[ram-bles]

a crumb of nsfw daisuke?

daisuke x reader | headcanons

requests/inbox: open

[ 🔞 minors dni ]

woah. from sweet to spicy. ill give this a try!

wrote this on mobile, sorry for the fuckass formatting.

gender neutral reader. sillies. lots of sillies. weed mention (like once).

🌺 sillies, even when it comes to sex!

🌺 c'mon, he somehow sneaked in some of his secret stash'a magazines. he's still a guy after all.

"Dai?"

"Yeah?" He's busy on his Gameboy, but he acknowledges you, tilting his body to show his face but his eyes were glued to the screen.

"Did you steal these porn mags from Jimmy or someth—"

A pink blur suddenly pushes you away, using his feet to kick it back under his bed.

"DUDE. PRIVACY. C'MON NOW."

🌺 You've probably caught him once or twice even before you two were a thing. It wasn't hard to, after all, you both shared a room.

Too lost in the sauce to even notice you, so you had to clear your throat. You've never seen someone so shocked to the point he doesn't know whether to shove his dick back in his pants, hide under the blankets, or try to do both at the same time but completely failing. He's stuttering your name out along with strings of apologies. Don't get your dick caught in your zipper now, Daisuke.

"I didn't know you were there! Shitshitshit- I'm so so sorry- Aghhhh." He felt pathetic, whining in embarrassment. Daisuke ends up just pulling the blanket over the entirety of him.

"You could've just asked me for help, y'know." He stares at you, scandalized as if he wasn't rubbing one off just moments ago.

"How the fuck was I s'posed to know?!"

You shrug, amused. "Dunno."

"Man, fuck youuuu."

"Happily."

"Get over here already, please!"

🌺 Outside internship though? Weed before sex seems like something he'd do. I can't explain why.

🌺 Feeling his rings on you... in many ways.

🌺 Pretty sure we all agree that he's into praising. Both giving and receiving.

🌺 You know he's having lots of fun when the pitch of his voice goes high. Squeaking, voice cracking, whining.

🌺 Speaking of how vocal he is, he's probably loud too. But, since you're in the ship now, he'll try his best to keep it down, either on the pillow or you. He'll also be rambling about random things just so he doesn't finish early.

🌺 Dirty talking? ❌ He'll be cringing like there's no tomorrow. He'll make a discord (or whatever equivalent) kitten joke about it if he does.

🌺 Unintentional dirty talking though... That's another story. Or should I rephrase, more-so leaning towards cussing.

"Fuck— you're sosososo pretty..." His hands were pressing the back of your knees, folding and spreading your legs for him. He whines your name out, resting his length on your abdomen while he impatiently waits for your permission. "C'mon, pretty. I'll be this deep inside you."

-

"Feels good. Feels so good." He's panting and rutting into you like a dog. "You should- nh- loosen up a little- shit- if you get any tighter I think I'll cum..."

🌺 Quickies galore. Sure, it's less risky, but with his libido? Anyways, he's pretty easy to please anyways. A round or two would probably be enough for him.

🌺 Wearing his clothes while at it? Mega turn on for him.

🌺 Well, yes his libido is high, but you still need to be straightforward with him. He can't take hints...

"Want head?"

"?!? Who's head?!"

"YOUR DICK."

"YOU'RE CUTTING IT OFF?"

"WHAT? NO, I MEANT SUCKING YOUR—"

"Good morning to you both too."

"CAPTAIN?"

🌺 He loves giving and receiving hickeys. You would have to remind him everytime not to mark too high on your neck.

🌺 His aftercare involves lots of cuddling and lots of smooching.

🌺 Ending with a silly note. The first time you've done it with him, he ended up saying thank you since he didn't know what to do.

[rafesbabygirlx]

Drew’s Birthday Gift

Masterlist

Drew Starkey x Wife!Reader

Summary: It’s Drew’s birthday and the two of you usually have a ton of fun, drinking and going out with friends but this years different. You are 7 months pregnant, constantly exhausted and in pain.

A/N: A day late but the idea came to me last night then I fell asleep lol

I allude to Drew’s gift on his 30th with reader. I have a fun idea for that if you’d like a part 2!

Warnings: fluff/smut all in one, smut towards the end, body insecurity (reader being pregnant) hormones, reader is hard on herself

Coming home from Poguelandia was a relief. You’d spent most of the day on your feet, swollen and aching all the way up to your claves, but it had all been worth it. The OBX cast adored you, and despite the physical toll, it was an amazing day.

The past few months had been nothing short of magical: Drew’s film premiere, getting engaged in Venice, Paris Fashion Week, a courthouse wedding a week later, the OBX premiere, and Poguelandia. Working remotely allowed you to travel with Drew effortlessly, though adjusting to new time zones was always a challenge.

Your wedding was intimate, just as you both wanted. Chip served as your witness, which felt fitting since he was the reason you two met. Family and close friends flew in for a dinner celebration afterward. You never envisioned yourself as a wife or mother, but Drew had a way of changing everything you thought you knew about yourself.

As your pregnancy progressed, the constant travel began to wear on you. Now in your third trimester, even the simplest tasks left you breathless, sore, and utterly exhausted. Putting on shoes was nearly impossible and every muscle ached in your body.

This year, guilt gnawed at you for not being able to plan something extravagant for Drew’s birthday. The best you managed was flying in his sister, brother, and a few close friends for a small dinner. For the past five years, you’d always organized grand celebrations. His 30th birthday was unforgettable, with a *special* gift that left Drew infatuated for days. But this year, you barely had the energy to make it through the day, let alone plan something big. You worried it wasn’t enough.

Pregnancy brain struck hard when you realized, as you were getting ready, that you hadn’t even bought him a gift. The sudden wave of panic brought tears to your eyes, but you forced them back, determined not to ruin the day. You felt like the worst wife.

Dinner was nice, set at Drew’s favorite restaurant in LA. The food was impeccable, and you managed to push aside your self-doubt, even as your back ached from the uncomfortable chair. Drew noticed and rested his hand on your thigh, concern in his eyes. “You okay? You’ve been quiet tonight,” he asked softly.

“Yeah, just uncomfortable,” you said, tapping the back of the chair. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you and the chair closer, and held you there for the rest of the night.

When the cake arrived, the group began to sing “Happy Birthday.” You smiled at Drew but glanced at the cake and noticed “birthday” was misspelled. Normally, such a thing wouldn’t bother you, but today, it felt like the final straw. You kept it together until Drew kissed you, and you whispered playfully, “Save me a piece.” You kissed him again before slipping away to the restroom, locking the door behind you. Taking a few deep breaths, you tried to calm the storm of emotions. You felt selfish for not being able to handle your emotions, but the third trimester had turned you into an emotional rollercoaster. A few tears fell before you dabbed your cheeks with a paper towel with cold water and pulled yourself together.

Returning to the table, Drew’s eyes met yours, now filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re alright? You can tell me, baby,” he said.

You managed a small smile, placing your hand on his cheek. “I’m fine, just… you know, it doesn’t wait for anything now,” you joked, gesturing to your belly. You both chuckled, but Drew wasn’t convinced. He knew you too well.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Back home, you collapsed on the couch, Drew helping you out of your boots. The sense of relief was immediate. He sat beside you, lifting your swollen feet onto his lap to massage them. “This is your day, you relax. Don’t pamper me for once,” you said, trying to sound lighthearted. You lifted your feet off of him and he felt the disconnect from you.

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired. Can we go to bed?” you added, the exhaustion weighing down your voice.

“Of course, let’s go.” Drew helped you to your feet, and you changed into pajamas. Lying in bed, facing each other, a silence hung between you as you propped up one arm, rested your head in your hand, and absentmindedly traced patterns on his bare chest.

“Tell me what’s wrong now,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

“I told you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Five years together, and you think I don’t know when something’s up? What time is it?” he asked.

“It’s 11:50,” you replied after checking the clock.

“Okay, in 10 minutes, my birthday will be over, and you’ll tell me what’s really going on. Deal?” He knew that’s what the constant dismissal was for tonight.

You wanted to deny it, but all you could manage was, “Deal.”

Those 10 minutes passed in silence, your mind racing. As soon as the clock struck midnight, Drew spoke again. “Tell me, please, baby.”

“I… I just think I ruined this day for you.” He looked puzzled but waited for you to continue. Sitting up, you leaned against the headboard, and he mirrored you.

“I usually go all out for your birthday, make it a huge event with everyone you love. But this year, all I could pull together was a dinner. I’ve felt terrible all day, and when the cake was misspelled, it was just the cherry on top. I didn’t even get you a gift, and our birthday sex is usually amazing. But I’m so swollen and uncomfortable, I didn’t even want you to see me naked. It’s just a lot, and I didn’t want to ruin your day.” Tears rolled down your cheeks as you spoke.

Drew leaned towards you and cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, don’t cry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I loved today. I love every birthday we spend together because you’re what makes it special. This might be my favorite birthday yet. I was surrounded by the people I love, and most importantly, I had you and our son with me. What more could I possibly want? Next year, it’ll be even better when he’s here and you’re singing happy birthday to me, I’ll holding him.” His words sent a fresh wave of tears down your face. How could he be this sweet? How are you this lucky.

“I know it’s been tough on you, and I didn’t want to push. But I do still have a birthday wish,” he said, smirking as you wiped your tears and smiled.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” you asked.

“You. But only if you’re comfortable. I’m going to love you no matter what, and I think you’re more beautiful now, with this bump and everything you’re going through to grow our son.”

His words melted away your insecurities and exhaustion. “You’re the only gift I want, Y/N,” he whispered.

You wiped your eyes and stood up. “Where are you going?” Drew asked, confused.

“To get your gift wrapped.” A few minutes later, you emerged from the closet wearing the white lace lingerie set you’d bought for your maternity shoot. His jaw dropped, and you knew you’d made his night complete. “Wow.”

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Drew got out of bed and sat at the edge, reaching his arms out for you. You settled in between his legs.His hands glided over your body, igniting a spark within you. "All this for me? You shouldn't have," he whispered, his smirk sending shivers down your spine. You blushed at his words, but your heart swelled with affection as he continued, "I told you, you were beautiful when I met you. You were beautiful every day for the past 5 years, and you're even more beautiful now that you're my wife and the mother of my child. There's no one else I'd want to do this with."

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Thank you, my love.” His kisses traveled from your mouth to your neck, each touch light and deliberate. His hands moved gently, offering a reassuring comfort as he reached for the clasp of your bra. You tensed for a moment, and he paused. “Can I see all of you?” he asked, his tone full of affection. You nodded, allowing him to remove the fabric. His lips found their way to your chest, kissing you with a reverence that sent warmth through your body. He moved with care, knowing how tender your body had become.

Drew lifted you effortlessly and placed you at the center of the bed, returning to remove his own sweatpants before joining you. Your confidence surged in the safety of his presence, and you began to slide down your underwear. He helped, eyes never leaving yours, full of admiration and love.

It had been months since you last shared an intimate moment. Between your growing belly and hidden insecurities, and sex drive plummeting from hormone, your desire had waned. But now, Drew’s touch and words reignited something inside you, a closeness you’d missed. He gently ran his fingers along your body, his touch both soothing and electrifying. His movements were slow and careful, each one a reminder of how cherished you were.

He rubbed his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal, he ran his hand up and down his length as he met your entrance, and slowly entered you. The stretch felt amazing, and you squirmed beneath him, eager for more. You loved the way he made you feel, the way he took care of you.

You two usually have fun in bed. You experiment and are usually rough. It’s easy to do with him, knowing he’ll never truly hurt you and you’re both just so comfortable with each other. Tonight was different, though. Everything was more intimate, more tender. His strokes were slow and full of love. He leaned in, careful of your bump, placed one arm beneath you and the other on your side. His forehead pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes. "So good, Drew," you whispered, and he smiled, his eyes filled with affection. "Just wanna take care of you, baby, you're the best gift ever."

You felt overwhelmed with affection, tears threatening to spill as he continued to hold you with care. The room was quiet, filled only with soft whispers and shared breaths as he adjusted his pace to your need.

He keeps this pace, until you grow a little impatient. “A little harder… please.” He picks up the pace the second you ask. Still soft with his movements but the speed is much better. His head is wedge in the crook of your neck as you run your fingers through his hair and down his back, feeling more connected than ever. He licked his fingers and touched your clit. Moving slow deliberate circles keeping the same pace as his hips. You’re getting closer and you clench down on him. “Come for me baby, forget about the pain for a little bit.”

You become putty in his arms and his words send you spiraling into an orgasm that washed over you like a tidal wave. Drew’s follows behind. He sits up and runs his hand over your bump. “Most beautiful mother I’ve ever seen. You’re an angel.” You smile at his words.

"You're the most beautiful mother I've ever seen," he whispered, his eyes filled with adoration. You smiled, feeling loved and cherished.

He gets up and puts back on his sweatpants returning with a washcloth and a big t-shirt of his. He cleans you up and pulls the shirt over your head. He gets back into bed and pulls you to him. “Best birthday ever, thank you my love. I love you so much.”

“I love you too Drewbug.” And as you fell asleep in his arms, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[meepspark1]

Reblogging this again because even when I did identify as cis and used she/her pronouns I would get called a “trap” which is literally people saying I was a boy that would dress as a girl. Literally, it wouldn’t have mattered if I was more or less feminine. And trust me, I know they also said it to “get proof”, but that shit was mad annoying.

And at the end of the day you will find your people so don’t suck up to anyone. I’m a Hispanic person with a Hispanic boyfriend who sticks up for me all the time. I’m lucky to have Hispanic parents that are also open and accepting of me and everyone else. And the fun part is my parents are a Colombian and a Puerto Rican and my boyfriend’s MexiCuban. Plus plus, my sister who I adore so much and has always supported me since I came out as gender-fluid and then nonbinary. Another Hispanic and this time Guatemalan. And I only mention this too because I’m tired of people being like this certain Hispanic is just so set in their mindset because culture. Like nah, you will find your people and no amount of culture should get in the way. If they suck, they suck

Don’t be friends with people that genuinely make you feel shit

The people who police your gender will police your gender even if you're cis.

Eat them.

[mynameismad]

What have I been up to?????

Hey all! I'm sure you're all cycling rapidly through the stages of grief like I am, but I thought I'd just check in and let everyone know what's going on with me and when they can expect more comics!

GOOD NEWS: I got a concept art job! I've been working freelance for a client for about two months now and things are going great! Honestly working on short assignments with weekly deadlines has been an amazing break from the slow, constant march of longform comics. I am surprising myself every day and haven't been this excited to learn and grow as an artist in a very long time. Moving forward, I would like to find a full time job in games and stay there, rather than continuing to hustle full-time in comics. I've paused my Patreon for the foreseeable future.

THAT BEING SAID: I will always be making comics!!!!!! I love them a lot, they've been good to me, and I have all these ideas in my head that NEED to be let out. I want to start making them in my own time, rather than as my main source of income. We'll see how long it takes to find true stability in concept (maybe never, lol) but in the meantime I will keep drawing my silly little guys and posting them online for everyone to see. I have to! I have to keep going and making the art I want to see in the world! We have to keep going!!!!

SAKANA: hoping to get back to the fish boys sooner rather than later. I've been stuck on whether to end the latest chapter right away or get a few more pages in there. We're moving into a HEAVY part of the plot, which will be trickier to write, so I've been procrastinating lol. Please don't take my extended absence as proof that I'm walking away from the story: I've just been busy with a new job and I don't know exactly how to get to the next chapter yet!! (also, jsyk, the Webtoon mirror is something I was doing for fun! not a priority!!)

RR: I actually have a few different projects started for RR! Chapter 2 is like 9 pages in, but then I paused and started work on a 20ish page minicomic, which is like 7 pages in. I'm going to finish the mini first and hopefully upload it to itch.io. For Chapter 2, I created this really elaborate environment in an effort to force myself to learn Blender, but then I got a job....so I have no time to learn Blender lol. Still trying to figure out whether to simplify or push forward.

OTHER: yeah...I am a comic artist at heart so obviously I have a million things I want to do. But SAKANA and RR are the highest priority right now!

UPCOMING: I am pursuing other freelance work for shorter, more manageable projects! If you need somebody to redline all your thumbnails, critique the first draft of your synopsis, or make a 20-40 page comic, please keep me in mind!

In closing: I'm locking my twitter accounts tonight and moving away from the platform for now. I'll be here, Instagram (@/mad_rupert), and BlueSky (@/madrupert). Thanks for sticking with me, let's hold onto and support each other in the coming weeks, months, and years! Let's keep going!!!!! I love you all so much!!!

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SKZ being whipped for you

Genre: lots of fluff

A/N: First SKZ reaction!

Chan

He expected this. He expected to be mercilessly made fun of by his members the moment he admitted being into someone. Still, it doesn’t keep him from flushing bright red and finding the nearest hiding spot. And oh man, if they do this while you’re in earshot, he’ll wish the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Be nice and reassure him, and maybe even defend him against his group members for good measure. 

Minho

Deny, deny, deny. You could not be dating at all yet or be together for a decade and he’ll still brush off any commentary about how he acts around you. It might even be so convincing that you sometimes forget all the little things that he does for you. But his members won’t. They’ll rage about the privileges he gives you. He’ll roll his eyes and say, “Are you kidding? I did that for you yesterday.” Sometimes you think it’s just so he can watch his friend’s head explode, because he most certainly did Not do that thing yesterday. In quiet, private moments though, he’ll remind you that you do, in fact, have all of the privileges.

Changbin

Unashamed. Did you think he’d be embarrassed by how into you he is? Absolutely not. Couldn’t fathom it. At least - not when his members comment on it. He’ll say, “Duh. Of course, I am. Have you seen them? Have you met them?” It’s a brag for him in a lot of ways. However! If you tease him about it, he might get a little shy in the early stages of whatever is going on with you two. Expect that to wear off, because one day soon he’ll have no shame about nodding his head and agreeing with your observations with a smile.

Hyunjin

This might be subtle, but it will be the little things. Like, your text always gets opened and responded to promptly, even if he should really be doing something else. Or your his first call when he has a rare day off and wants to do something. Or heaven forbid someone take a peek at his sketch book because it often features you. He might be a little secretive about his feelings, if only to spare himself the teasing he might get if he makes it too obvious. But if you call him out on it, he’ll freely admit it.

Jisung

Does NOT know what to do with himself. Totally overwhelmed by it sometimes. It’s painfully obvious even to you, because you can just be existing in the same room and he’s fixated on you with heart eyes. I can actually see this as being something that he might be kind of self-conscious about if only because he wants to be more poised or more thoughtful in expressing his feelings. Match. His. Energy! Let them make fun of both of you!!!

Felix

Sickeningly, tooth-rottingly sweet. I don’t know that many of his members would really even tease him very much about it because it’s just too heart-warming. When he’s whipped, it’s just too easy to get swept up in the romance if you’re on the receiving end of it. Honestly, they might beg him to tone it down a little - which he will not. Not as long as you like it, anyway.

Seungmin

You’ll get partner privileges here too, but that might be the only sign. And he will not give you those partner privileges easily. You ask him to hang out and he says, “You can’t stand to be away from me,” like he wasn’t rushing to put on shoes. You call and he answers in a split second, but asks what you could possibly want because he’s busy (even though he is already thinking of a way to get out of whatever he's doing). He buys coffee or a snack and when you thank him, he’ll say, “Yeah, yeah, you’re so needy”. He might even act so put out that he’ll get scolded by some of his members to be nicer. But the thing is… it’s all a ruse!!! Agree when he says these things to throw him off his game!!

Jeongin

CASUAL. Yeah, he’s into you. Yeah, he wants to spend all his time with you. Yeah, he bought you a little gift again for the third time this week. Your point? It sucks allllll of the fun out of teasing him, the baby of the group, because he’s so unbothered and he’ll continue to do what he wants. It’ll actually make YOU whipped if only because of how unabashedly he admits it.