#questions are also welcome too👀

[whistlingstarlight]

You have come too far. Leave now, for the entities ahead will not spare you. Run.

[goatgoesmbe]

tw : reader implied to have social anxiety, stalking

A series : discord shenanigans (Next)

AO3

Word count: 1808

rated: T

TF141 x f!reader

The welcome

This wasn't something you usually do, reaching out to strangers, seeking friends, socializing. It was only online, sure-- but you couldn't help the way your heart racing so hard you could feel it in your throat, your palms felt sweaty as you contemplated on clicking the link.

A discord server.

A public one at that.

Dedicated for people who took a liking on this FPS game you just got obsessed with. It was a pretty popular game, so you spent a lot of time looking for the one where it wouldn't be too crowded as to not overwhelm you. And surprisingly, you managed to find one.

It took you a few days to find it, scrolling at a few accounts that seemed to know each other very well. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't being creepy. After all, you followed one of them because you liked their posts which was mostly about games he recently played that you were also interested in, and also posts about a glimpse of his life. GazH8Heli.

You thought the guy was cool, definitely someone you wanted to get to know more.

But of course, you didn't have the courage to reach out.

Until.. today.

You saw his conversation in post replies about a gaming server which was opened for the public, even though the link wasn't shown in any post. Just told once in this particular reply.

Again, this wasn't something you usually do. You were content in being by your loneself with video games as your only companion.

But, this game you're recently obsessed with is a multiplayer game. And you were starting to get frustrated playing on random with strangers who couldn't cooperate.

Though, there is also a slight hope to find some kind of connection with someone. You were starting to get really lonely despite what you told yourself.

Just then you told yourself 'fuck it' and clicked on the link. Your heart racing so fast now that you felt nauseous-

"Welcomee..!!!" A message popped up on the screen, followed by the others who also welcomed you.

You fidgeted with the hem of your t-shirt as you watched the chat greeting you. It seemed like searching for a smaller server wasn't really a good idea. You should've expected this, for people to interact instead of ignoring a user who weren't their friends.

It seemed like there were four members who are active currently. CapBravo6 welcomed you first with a simple message, followed by the guy you followed-- greeting you in a more friendly manner by including heart emojis. The other one, Sexysoap69, spammed the chat with various silly gifs saying 'welcome' and you couldn't help but giggle. There was also a user who was seen as active but didn't appear in the chat, GhostSRK9.

They didn't show their faces on their icons (if Soap's mohawk didn't count), but from the vibes alone you could tell they were all guys who already know each other well.

You already feel like hiding at the thought of simply replying to their warm welcome, but you would overthink about it and feel even more horrible if you just ignored them. And so, you sent a message "Hello everyone, thank you for the welcome ^^"

You clicked sent before you could change your mind or overthink about how well the simple reply would be received. Fuck, you thought the emoji was nice, but now you read it again, it looked like you were trying too much-

Fortunately, the message was well received. too well..

Soap replied with a gif of a cartoon kissing the camera, while the others reacted to your reply with heart emojis.

And you realized that you've been smiling. God, you feel pathetic.

"How did you find this server?? 👀" Gaz asked. It was a simple question really, not a big deal. But you were starting to feel anxious again, like you were being interrogated for some kind of crime.

You couldn't think of anything better to say than the truth. "I actually found it in your social.. i hope it's okay, sorry"

And before you could overanalyze your own reply again, another message came. "Don't worry about it, I assume you're here because of the game then?" Gaz asked again, while you see Soap had been typing for a while now.. but hadn't sent anything more except for the previous gifs. You were thinking about being more considerate and letting Soap send his message first, but Kyle's message got your attention.

At his question, your fingers immediately danced on the keyboard. You proceeded to ramble about said game, your experience playing, how you've been up to date with every news about it, and a bit of bragging about your rank.

When you were done, you felt your heart sink when you saw that you practically just sent a whole essay. But before you could think anything bad about it- and yourself, the four reacted to it with various emojis. You found yourself smiling again.

"You gotta be lying about your rank.. no way" Gaz's message said.

"Yeah! Even Ghost's isn't that high" Soap added. You audibly giggle at this since you expected a longer message from how long he had been typing previously.

Despite being so very anxious earlier, you found yourself getting along with them just fine.

"I'm not lying, i just play a lot.." You contemplated on adding that it was because you have no life, but decided against it since you felt like it would be too self-deprecating for the first interaction.

"Prove them wrong, then" Price sent, the second message since the first one greeting you from when you just got in.

Despite your hands that were a bit shaky from both anxiety and excitement, you quickly opened the game and took a screenshot of your game profile before sending it to the server.

There were a lot of typing from their side before a message appeared.

"Just checked, it's real" Gaz sent before adding another one after. "Sent a friend request too ;)" You felt ashamed to blush at the emoji.

Soap sent another barrage of gifs. "Sent one too" He added after.

"Same here" Price chimed in.

Even Ghost finally appeared in the chat with a screenshot of him sending the request in the game.

You were definitely not used to this. Interacting with people so easily like you've known them for a while, and how well they received you, bombarding you with attention.

Once again, you felt pathetic for being giddy at something other people probably think as normal.

"Okay.. just accepted them all, thank you ^^" You sent it without second thought for some reason, which you immediately regret. What were you thanking them for? well.. for being really nice, but does it show how lonely you have been?

It didn't seem so from their replies which were still very positive.

And that's how you find yourself spending more time socializing online, compared to before where video games were your only friend.

Days passed, and eventually you started getting less nervous talking to them. You haven't got to the stage where you started a conversation first, but you were not as shy as before when replying now. You didn't consider yourself to be active in the server, but they made sure you were.

While you never send a message first, they always tag you in every conversation. Which made you feel like it would be rude to not respond.

The conversation started like how it was at first, talking about the game you've been obsessed with lately. But eventually it turned to something more personal.

You learned that they were in the military together, coworkers. Though the details seemed to be classified. They never talked about it, but from their conversation alone you assumed as much.

There were channels in the server dedicated to conversations unrelated to the game. Memes channel was mostly dominated by Soap where he sent everything he found funny there, while Gaz who actually sent something funny once in a while. There were creative space which also dominated by Soap, and you always replied to each of his drawings with compliments. How could you not when he tagged you every time he drew something. Not that you minded, he was a great artist.

The pictures channel was your favorite because you can see a glimpse of who they are. Price liked to send pictures of beautiful sceneries, Gaz sent photos he took that you would definitely add to your interest board, while Soap updated everyone randomly like a few times he posted pictures of him washing his hands in the sink with the following message "Just took a shit". You found yourself laughing at it every time despite the other's complaints.

Even Ghost was more active (as much as he was) in that channel. Sending pictures of the others sleeping (mostly Soap) without them knowing and photos of a military dog without any words said. Her name was Riley and you adored her.

And there was a vent channel, which was mostly Price scolding them for pulling pranks on him and the others. Soap would whine about injuries he got which made you really concerned, but based on the other's reactions, it seemed like a normal occurrence.

On some days, you were tempted to send something to that channel. To talk about stuff that's been bothering you. But you always found yourself deleting the long message you wrote.

Though, eventually enough, their friendliness made you want to share more about yourself.

"Just think the moon is pretty.. even though my phone can't really capture it, haha" You sent a picture of the night sky one day after multiple times fixing the message.

You still felt silly about sending said pictures, but you tried to convince yourself that the others were doing the same so it wasn't a big deal, shouldn't be a big deal.

"Not as bonnie as you ;)" You saw Soap replied immediately which distracted you from your thoughts.

You didn't see anyone else replying unlike usual, but they still left emojis on said pictures so you paid it no mind.

"You don't even know what i look like XD" You sent with a giggle.

There wasn't an immediate response from anyone which was a bit odd.. but you kept telling yourself to stop overthinking everything.

Unaware of the red light being on beside your front camera, meaning that it had been on for a while.

"The way you type is bonnie" Soap finally sent, but it was lacking gifs and emojis like he was quick to send it.

"Haha, what does that even mean.." You replied, oblivious as ever.

"Just.. how we think a pretty girl would talk like" Gaz chimed in as Soap was shown to be typing for a while now.

"Lol, okay then"

THIS got longer than it should be- so Im gonna put the rest in other chapters

Next

open taglist : @partiallysame, @niazrzl, @iiriam, @sweetlike-sugarplum, @mordacioust, @boogeysmoth, @little-mini-me-world, @sxnshinebxcky, @thethingfromtheblacklagoon, @lady-red-night-1234, @just-pure-trash

[ghostfacd]

LIVE LAUGH, SCREAM! | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. where one comment could lead into an internet feud between tom blyth and yn avocot, resulting in them falling inlove ?!

author’s note. [ THIS TAKES PLACE BEFORE YN AND TOM STARTED DATING ] thank you to the nonnie that said yn gives off scream vibes bc they’re the reason i even made this post in the first place! 🤭

installment of this au | read for context

ynuser scream bts (you’re welcome!)

view all comments

jennaortega did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

➥ jackchampion no but it might’ve when she stabbed u in the movie

➥ ynuser JACK 😭😭

user1 jenna flirting, jack teasing, I LOVE THIS CAST YOUR HONOR

user2 okay but literally your performance was just chefs kiss 😭 PLEASE tell me you’re starting in other movies as well bae

➥ ynuser oh thank you!! im so honored you enjoyed it ❤️ I will get back to you on your question!! 👀

➥ user3 OMGG YN IN ANOTHER FILM WOULD BE KILLER

➥ user4 well actually 🤓☝️ she was one of the ghostface in the film which means she actually was a killer

user5 @/user4 bye

tomblyth amazing film

➥ ynuser thanks

➥ user6 THANKS?? THANKS?! girl that’s tom blyth

➥ ynuser @/user6 who?

user7 no way this girl just asked who tom blyth is

➥ user8 well can u blame her tho?? he’s in like what, billy the kid or whatever? it’s not that known..

➥ user9 nah girl stars in one film and thinks she’s all that 😭

rachelzegler YOU DID SO GOOD GIRL 💕

➥ ynuser rachel my love 😭😭❤️

tomblyth who am I? well now you know

view all comments

user10 oh he’s so fine

user11 LMFAOO is this a jab at yn not knowing who you are

user12 show that girl 🤭🤭 she thinks she’s all that after getting one acting gig

➥ user13 y’all are so obsessed with her hello..

ynuser sure. now i know

➥ user14 oh im having so much fun watching all this go down

ynuser more bts because i love scream 6 and so should you!

view all comments

tomblyth yeah the movie’s cool and all but how abt i treat you out for dinner?

➥ user15 HELLO???

user16 enemies to lovers era ?

user17 pls lord get these two together

jackchampion say yes to the dinner invite and bring me back steak

➥ ynuser 🤨🤨

➥ jackchampion and a vanilla soda too please

user18 i love jack n yn’s friendship

ynuser and tomblyth both posted a story!

ynuser eating sushi and then putting on some comfy pjs is a great way to spend a day

view all comments

user19 the way tom also posted sushi pics very similar to what she’s eating…

➥ user20 WHY IS NOBODY MENTIONING THE MATCHING HOTDOG STORY POSTS AS WELL 😭😭😭

user21 pjs TOGETHER?! im afraid we’ve lost her

user22 everybody knows.. everybody knows

jackchampion splendid way to spend the day

➥ user23 what if it’s jack?? tom and yn don’t even fw each other LOL

➥ user24 true. he did ask her for dinner tho

➥ user25 who wouldn’t? she’s yn.

Eclaté_Mode On this new episode of BTS With Your Favorites, Tom Blyth dishes on his skincare routine, how he keeps himself productive during breaks, and his internet rivalry with actress, Y/N Avocot. Full video linked in bio

view all comments

user26 THE WAY HE COMPLIMENTS YN this is definitely enemies to lovers

user27 “me and yn have exciting need to share soon” excuse me

user28 so they inlove or what

user29 yn fell inlove with a brit man it’s over for US

user30 WAIT WHAT DOES HE MEANNNN

tomblyth well surprise. enemies to lovers much?

view all comments

ynuser nice pic send me it

user31 WAITT RACHEL HIM AND YN IN A FILM?? did not expect this..

user32 hold awn..

user33 is this confirmation they’re dating

➥ ynuser we aren’t dating.

➥ rachelzegler yet.

➥ user34 RACHEL???

rachelzegler you’re welcome for this crossover, i encouraged both of them to audition for the role

➥ user35 WE LOVE RACHEL ZEGLER

jennaortega take care of my gf 😽

[cozycottagetarot]

PAC: Your First Kiss With Your Person

Notes:

This PAC Contains: 

General Info On The Kiss

Setting The Scene

The Kiss

Extended Edition Covers:

You During The Kiss

Your Person During The Kiss

The Aftermath

✨ This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨ (General Disclaimer at the bottom)

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

PILE 1

General Things

Could be very early in the relationship… during the ‘get to know you’ stages. There’s a lot of attraction and tension between you and this person. I think this could be someone you either meet through a career or online. It’s fast paced but intense, a quick back and forth. But it’s good because it’s an exchange where you both are on the same level or matching energies. It’s welcomed, but it feels very interrogative, like ‘does this person fit the bill of what I’m looking for 👀’ rather than a chill get to know you. It feels like a new environment too, as in both of you are out doing something new together for the first time. It doesn’t seem like there’s any anxiety around the questioning, just kind of throwing every and anything at the wall to see if it sticks. Scorpio or Gemini could be important placements for you or them.

Setting The Scene

When it comes to the location of the kiss it could be a festival of some kind, I’m get a fair, specifically a renaissance fair for someone, or something with that vibe for a few of you. It could also be an event around water and/or where there will be live entertainment. I think it’s definitely picked strategically by whoever plans this outing… I think maybe more so your person. I also feel like it could be their old stomping grounds as well or something being hosted by someone they know. There’s an opportunity to kind of learn from others during this event/setting also.

The Kiss In General

I think this kiss is going to be awakening or energizing. One that gives you a surge of energy. I also heard that you might be trying to best them at something too. It might be outside of one your comfort zones and there could be a lot of anxiety surrounding the kiss on someone’s part. If not anxiety, hearts racing. During a dance as well could be another likely scenario. One where it’s like "Okay, we’re dancing... I feel like a fool, Oh! you’re kissing me!"... Except the rest of the thoughts just fizzle out because you melt into it. People around you might cheer you guys on.

If you'd like to see the extended version of this reading which covers you & your person's feelings during the kiss as well as the 'aftermath' you can check it out on my Patreon here. Regardless, thank you for reading and take care! 💕

PILE 2

General Things

The cards are giving me fairytale-esque vibes... a dream come true. This could happen when you’re traveling, finding home or experiencing something life changing. This could happen at a time where you’re on a journey to finding yourself/ finding your way and I’m getting that your person is intent on wanting to show you they can be a part of that world. I think this person is hard to ignore, and honestly it could be hard to ignore whatever is going on between you two. There could be something about their eyes… maybe you avoid eye contact because it’s so intense and feels like you’re intruding? I think your person lights up your world. However, they could kind of know themselves and have all their 'colours' while you’re now finding yours. There’s something intimidating here about them.... very much you trying to convince yourself you two can’t be together. I’m also hearing “You’re my North Star”.

It could happen during a place that represents transition, in the location you’re leaving or at one of your homes (most likely yours). It’s like they want to offer you home and you’re resisting. You’re denying yourself entrance into the castle they have to offer. I think your head and heart aren’t aligning and in all honesty your person is tired of it and just at a point where they are begging you to let yourself be happy.

Setting The Scene

I feel like this is a nice setting. More lavish for some than others . It could be in the evening or at night. It should be a date? I don’t think you want it to be but it is… I mean I think you know it is but you're at a point where you're beside yourself pushing this person away mentally and throwing up walls. You guys could go to a show or some kind of enchanting exhibit too.

The Kiss In General

This could definitely be at night. I think the setting really depends on your interest. So it could be a concert, something related to music… but somewhere someone has the chance to get rowdy. Even a wedding or something where it’s nice but someone can likely get plastered and no one would really be surprised.

Okay back to the general kiss. I feel like it's a battle in a way. It’s impulsive. Emotions are running high. It’s about potential and fighting for what’s 'right'... Trying to wake you up. A climatic battle of trying to get out of your head so you can see what’s in front of you and just not what you’re dreaming of... what you think the cards (?) are telling you. I think this may be if you're constantly consuming tarot or other forms of divination and living your life by it.

If you'd like to see the extended version of this reading which covers you & your person's feelings during the kiss as well as the 'aftermath' you can check it out on my Patreon here. Regardless, thank you for reading and take care! 💕

PILE 3

General Things

You could be a little bit disinterested or distracted when you have your first kiss with your person. I think it might take you a minute or two before it registers in your head that you too kissed. It could be a kiss to calm you… like you’re brain is going a mile a minute and generally not being grounded.

I think you’re going to be in a comfortable situation when your person kisses you/you two share your first kiss. It could be in a situation where you’re both working on something together. Or they are helping you with something you’re working on. It’s someone who complements you beautifully. It could be a social gathering between close friends as well (but it still feels like a rather private moment, like everyone else is distracted as well and they sneak a quick kiss). If you’re a musician (or a music teacher, really anything related to that field) you could be composing or reviewing a piece and they kiss you. You could get pulled in many different directions mentally or come up with a lot of ideas but burn out on them quickly.

Setting The Scene Oh my gosh-- Are you hungry or do you like food because all I can think of is food 😩

It could be a casino, family/friends game night, holiday dinner. You’re focused intensely on something in front of you. Your mind is calculating, unfazed by things going on around you. I’m also getting the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland... a 'smoky' or and environment that gives off psychedelic vibes.

The Kiss In General

I think the kiss is attention grabbing, not just for you but someone around you may kind of cheer or whoop but you might not pay them much mind. I think your person is like this is my time with y/n and I’m not letting their thoughts steal them away! I think they're accustomed to you being off in la la land. For some of you, you could be in the medical field or have a very scholarly profession that bleeds into your personal time. But the kiss always cuts through that. I’m hearing “ah ah ah” as well.

If you'd like to see the extended version of this reading which covers you & your person's feelings during the kiss as well as the 'aftermath' you can check it out on my Patreon here. Regardless, thank you for reading and take care! 💕

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all

[lokideservesahug]

Something Sweet

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Pairing: Mark Webber x Sugarbaby!reader

Warnings: A lot of use of daddy but only from random twitter users, reader is implied to be quite a bit younger than Mark but an exact number is never given.

Notes: I should start on the Nico fic in not too long (probably a bit later in the week. But here is the Mark smau:)

Request: Can i ask for nico rosberg fluff or a mark webber sugar daddy smau?

Summary: Mark Webber looks like he should have a sugar baby attached to his side, so why doesn't he?

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☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: Life lately 💋🎀💕

Liked by aussiegrit and 981 others

View all 45 comments

User1: I want to be you so badly

↳Yourusername: I've found meeting a someone that wants to "help support me" does the trick 😉

User2:This luxury lifestyle is a NEED!!! How do you afford it?

↳Yourusername: My amazing boyfie🥰

User3: GIRL YOU'RE TAKEN!?!?!

Liked by yourusername

User4: Did anyone also see Mark freaking Webber in the likes!?!?👀

↳User5: Who?

↳User4: Dilfiest of all dilfs ever, he's an ex-F1 driver

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername: Week without the boyf so I decided to treat myself🎀💕

Liked by aussiegrit and 2,876 others

View all 509 comments

User1: Woah. Is this Mark's new girl?

↳User2: Nothing was proven but he is in the likes and her last photo is the same that oomf used for the thread so...👀

User5: YOU ARE SO HOT!!❤❤❤🔥🔥🔥💰💰❤

Liked by aussiegrit

User4: Woah, how did your man react to you posting such a hot photo dump when he isn't in it this time!?!?🔥🔥🔥

↳Yourusername: He just send an Australian kiss (and half a grand)💋💕

User 6: Whoah who is this cute young thing?

↳User7: Don't speak like that, it's objectification. But this is Mark Webber's rumoured girlfriend

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: You would too 💋💕

Liked by aussiegrit and 987,765 others

View all 7,987 comments

User1: This is iconic I fear...

↳User2: No but like fr

User3: I aspire to be this unbothered.

↳User4: Literally. I'm desperate to see more of her and Mark's dynamic.

Aussiegrit: ❤

↳Yourusername:Love u Markiepoo💕🎀

↳Aussiegrit:Love you more sweetheart❤

User5: I love her so so much

Liked by aussiegrit

↳User5: I SEE YOU MARK

User6: My question is, what is her contact name for someone like Mark🤔

↳Yourusername:...🤭 Oh I won't it's too bad

↳User7: Please Miss Y/L/N🥺🙏 Just tell us

↳Yourusername: Alright. I kid you not, its "A.T.Mark💋💰❤"

User8: You're hot AND funny!?!?!? Please leave Mark for me!!!

↳Aussiegrit: No can do I'm afraid

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Aussiegrit

Aussiegrit: From my baby😏💸 to My Love🌹❤

Liked by Yourusername, Oscarpiastri and 3,456,987 others

This user has disabled comments

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Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist:@nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie

[formulafics]

★ THE JPG CHRONICLES | #3

Scenario: yn ln, the mclaren reserve driver and a fan + grid favorite, makes a jpg account that no one quite expected. this time around, she avoids answering the question everyone wants to know: who is the “boyfriend” she mentioned?

Pairing: F1 grid x fem!reader

A/N: yall i am SCHEMING you don’t even know what’s coming. that being said, after reading this part, who do you think yn’s bf is? 👀another shoutout to @renarots for supplying the memes and scheming with me 😼 i hope you guys enjoy!!

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 4

yn.jpg

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 245,678 others

yn.jpg week three - max verstappen caught lacking 😨

view all 4,678 comments

maxverstappen1 awe thanks mate

⤷ yn.jpg your welcome <333

danielricciardo LMAOOOO

ynsgirl okay babe but who is the boyfriend 😭

⤷ rizzciardo i’d tell yall to give the girl a break but i wanna know too

yn.jpg

liked by landonorris, georgerussel63, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, pierregasly, and 265,890 others

yn.jpg week four - got his ass. team principals go crazy (zak pls don’t fire me)

view all 5,678 comments

mclaren mr.brown says you’re 🤏🏻 close :)

⤷ yn.jpg admin i know who you are i will hunt you down

⤷ mclaren 😥

⤷ piastrispastry HELP ME. LET THEM STAND UP YN

rizzciardo notice how the zak picture isn’t that bad. i just know she’s been on the brink of losing her job bc he was fed up LMFAO

⤷ yn.jpg wrong he loves me

⤷ oscarpiastri “love” is a strong word

⤷ yn.jpg you’re about to be banished from this account (and so is your bf tell lando to stop harassing me)

⤷ landolover yn is a landoscar truther just like the rest of us </3

norrisnation babe please give us anything on who the bf is

⤷ yn.jpg it’s

⤷ norrisnation and you gave us nothing 😕

yn.jpg

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, yukitsunoda0511, fernandoalo_official, and 189,345 others

yn.jpg week 5 - slice of life 🌅 also how the fuck do yall have will fucking buxton asking me about my bf?

view all 2,456 comments

landonorris i like your camera ;)

⤷ yn.jpg thanks. my friend lando got it for me

⤷ norrisnation LANDOYN CRUMBS

landonorris boyfriend reveal when?

⤷ yn.jpg shut the hell up

⤷ rizzciardo i can’t tell if this makes me think it’s lando, or is convincing me that it ISNT lando

formulayn HELP WHY IS WILL ASKING YOU ABOUT YOUR BF 😭

⤷ ynsworld bro it was insane. i joined the pre race show like 15 minutes late and it was just will buxton harassing her/lh

formulanorris will buxton asking you abt a bf is WILD

⤷ rizzciardo yes, but also real i fear

thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated 🫶🏻

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[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 06/01✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do the little monkeys on Flower Fruit mountain ever see at Wukong and Macaque bickering like an old married couple and think to themselves 'just kiss already'?

Yes. They keep doing and Wukong tries to stop them otherwise Macaque could hear them (he already does)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Been reading up on Macaque Body Language and found this: "A peculiar behaviour displayed by macaques is lip smacking. Between macaques, lip smacking is used to show submission, affection and reconciliation. This behaviour is a form of communication and is sometimes accompanied with cooing vocalisations and mild raising of eyebrows." So now I can't stop imaging Monkey King and Macaque just smacking lips and raising eyebrows to each other instead of saying "I love you" or after a fight just smacking lips and then hugging. But then I also started questioning, do the two monkeys in your AU actually use monkey body language to communicate? Or is it just human language they use? Great work on your AU btw! Loving the art and story ^^

Mm some? Like a little but not too much. But that’s an adorable trivia!!

Does macaque know about Wukong's stage fright?👀

Yes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Baby MK lives in my head rent free. If Wukong or Macaque were trappen in the calabash than their perfect world would be one where they could raise mk without him having to fight or get hurt and traumatized

I THINK the fanfiction series Squashed Apricots is just about this if it can interest you.

@abbytheslothwitch ha chiesto: In your AU or your general opinion, which monkey dad is the taller one; Wukong or Macaque?

Macaque

Anonimo ha chiesto: The way you draw Pigsy honestly is one of the best I've seen I mean just look at him!!! He doesn't have the proportions of a regular human because he's not human and it works so well! I dunno he just looks cool in your artstyle and design That all I had to say :]]]]

Thank you so much!!!♥️♥️♥️ He’s honestly quite hard to draw exactly bc of that, but it’s good practice! Him and DBK are generally harder, I’m not super used to draw animals.

@peach-fury ha chiesto: Ello! Sorry, it's me again But just had a thought, sense Macaque has died and went to Dìyù or the underworld. (I think that's were the book of death is) Wouldn't he be at least scared or nervous to go back? Idk like bad memories like their fight or the lady bone demon or something? Idk maybe overthinking or that I just like angsty :P (P.s I fricking love your art and your AU's so much!!!!)

Yes. I believe he wouldn’t like the idea. I like to think he”s actually terrified. But he wouldn’t care less if it means to protect and help his baby.

Anonimo ha chiesto: will MK try to try change his name into nobody or something form of loophole name so that can be like ohhhh nobody us in trouble! Everyone is safeeee! And nezha’s dad is like wait no

Ahah that’s a good idea! Unfortunately that isn’t the plan

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out we know Wukong made the bed because he made it bigger. It's made out of peach tree wood. And carved moon and suns and stars on the headboard.

AWWWW!!😭😭😭😭😭

@a1teruniverse ha chiesto: What's the hardest panel you've drawn

It is a panel if it’s an animation?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will u ever do flash backs for shadowpeach thats “happy” like them first meeting realizing there in love a jealous mac courtnapping the monkey king just being young and in love.

Mmm yeah i wanna do smth like that. Don’t know when or how but i wanna.

Anonimo ha chiesto: does Wukong ever/will ever let glamours down and let like everything hang out like Mac would come in and his husband just causally has his boobs out and he’s like sweet my husband got hotter bc he’s pan(?) like I think you said that in an earlier post

I mean. I don’t think he has any issues dropping his glamours in front of macaque. I don’t think he would stay too much without his glamours bc still, I guess he would have some slight dysphoria. Also I mean, yeah Macaque loves him with or without boobies. But if Wukong could choose he would prefer not to have them out if he can.

Anonimo ha chiesto: which bottle is every ship in your lmk comic chugging? (I’m talking about your red bubble stickers for ao3 tags I would find it but I’m lazyyyh)

Shadowpeach is hurt & comfort (which I saw now I didn’t uploaded but yeah I got that one as well.), slowburn, enemies to lovers, and angst cause- duh.

Spicynoodle I would say is fluff, oneshot, enemies to lovers, found family.

Anonimo ha chiesto: im so embarrassed to ask about this but, later when mk and red boy r dating, who would ask the other first on a date? What would the date be? Also what does dbk and pif personal opinion of their relationship? SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN ASKED BEFORE😭

I think MK, because dates are something a little more human, and cause Red Son is a workaholic. It can either be something like a training session, a videogame session at Red castle, or just also the traffic light trio being competitive. DBK and PIF are supporting, mostly bc they know their family will be even more powerful with an union such as theirs. Of course PIF is supporting also cause MK is Mac baby.

@kandymaneuwu ha chiesto: On a scale of 1 to 10 how fluffy is macaque this is very important

10 with merits

@5hadowm0ch1 ha chiesto: When will Shadowpeach kiss? It's always head-to-head Pats (I'm trying to predict what happening)

b-b-b-b-b- but head-to-head pats are cute…

@majesticgazell ha chiesto: Ooohhh I’m just imagining Li Jing catching wind of the plan and activating MK’s fillet while he’s in the shadows… maybe he wouldn’t lose himself under normal circumstances, but with that thing tightening around his head? 👀 Just a thought

Hehe, isn’t that a possibility?

@nataszaluiz ha chiesto: So I have a few questions. First: do you plan on ending it before Season 6 releases or do you plan on continuing it and mixing it up with your AU? Second: have you heard theories that a fragment of Azure's Soul is placed in the blue flower that appears after it's sacrifice? Third: Will characters like Yellowtusk and Peng appear in your AU?

S6 seems to either happen next year or never, so I ve3ry much hope i finish my story sooner.

no i haven’t

mmmm i don’t know

@cheddarcheesebiscuit1 ha chiesto: I gotta ask, if MK would to ever get injured in his monkie form, then would Macaque/Wukong try to take him to a human doctor or a vet?

I know we all want to see Macaque and Wukong freaking out when their baby is sick, but I think we forget sometimes that, even though they aren’t medics, Wukong has a basic understanding how to heal wounds and medicine. Macaque is head-canoned many times to be an expert in fact. And I think there are demons/demonic doctors in case MK has some kind of curse or demonic sickness, which would be what actually makes them worry in the first place.

@ainnur ha chiesto: Mei and Wukong team up?! Wasabi Duo the party crasher🎉✨ Love them💕 They need more love as a duo

Their name IS WASABI DUO????????? AAAWWWWWW

@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for sparking my LMK hyper fixation and I’m really curious: Will we get more Nezha? How will he react knowing that the Buddha approved this? IF the Buddha approved it at all 👀

Yes you will have plenty of Nezha. Also if youo guys really want to know, yeah, the Buddha themself approved of this. No, Li Jing wasn’t lying.

@saphstories ha chiesto: KYRI PLEASE IF I ASK FOR NOTHING ELSE I NEED TO SEE HELICOPTER AUNT PIF AND UNCLE DBK IN THAT FIGHT BECAUSE *HEAVEN DID WHAT TO THEIR NEPHEW???* And I'm sorry but of freaking course Red Son being the brat he is would call Mommy and Daddy to tattle about how mean Heaven is for stealing his Monkey before he could. 😂😂 Can you tell how insane the extended Monkey Fam makes me? 😂😂😂 I love this AU, I can't wait to see more!

When they heard the news they wanted to come to help attack the palace as well, but Red Son stopped them saying smt like “HE IS MY FUTURE HOUSBAND AND I GET TO KIDNAP HIM OUT OF HEAVEN MOM!”

@anxiousbb-witch ha chiesto: Do I have a reason to fear the possibilities of the golden headband being used on MK and all the emotions and tears coming from it?

oh year, absolutely.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I just have the funny thought that MK woke up one morning in his true form and get jumpscared by looking at himself and see he has boobs again

nooouuuu poor baby! But yeah it’s a funny image

@monkieshad0w ha chiesto: HELLOO HELLOO! What’s ur opinion on sundial duo :D (if you don’t know what sundial duo is, it’s basically Macaque and Wukong being duos and besties but not lovers) :3

oohhh well I do live any pf my ships as besties as well! Platonic love is just as important as romantic one for me personally!

[thecaduceusclay]

Alright, I’ll bite. Devil’s Minion in both the book and the show feels very connected to the AIDS crisis… but I’ve only ever acquired knowledge about that period through osmosis, so I’m curious if you have any thoughts/connections or information. 👀

I put out a call for people to ask me fandom-related queer history questions since I know a lot! I want to remind people this is open and that I welcome any fandom questions about queer history!

Ok this is going to get long because I have a lot of feelings on this topic especially. For those who just want some resources, further reading, and my sources, you can find those at the end. I'll pepper some links in, but I'll try to put the bulk of it there. But Daniel Molloy in the show especially is a man heavily impacted by the history of the AIDS crisis and I have a lot to say about that. I'm also assuming a knowledge of what HIV and AIDS are in the first place. You can do some quick reading here.

First, a note on the books since I mostly want to talk about the show. Queen of the Damned was published in 1988 when the AIDS crisis was in full swing. The peak of deaths was in 1993, but 1988 wasn't exactly early in it. The previous year saw the start of the AIDS memorial quilt, the founding of ACT UP (we'll talk about them later 💜), and Princess Diana publicly shaking the hand of an HIV positive patient. The shadow is cast over the culture, Anne Rice was not immune to the zeitgeist. Hell, she was living in the Castro district at the time and that is a notably queer area. (Her son Christopher talks about that briefly here.) I don't this the parallels are an accident. Armand is a man watching his lover slowly waste away while he can do nothing about it. Sure, it isn't AIDS, it's the alcohol and lack of care to his body. Sure, Armand could turn him. But despite their fun and their arguments being such a focus, that helplessness and fear permeates their relationship in the Devil's Minion chapter. Like so many gay men at the time, Daniel is wasting away. Armand is tormented by this. That is one of the most prominent faces of queer men at this time!

Daniel in the show has more going on in relation to the crisis.

I'll start by saying this in case it needs asserted, Daniel is a leftist journalist. And I don't mean in a casual liberal way. He's clearly passionate and involved and these things matter to him. He makes flippant and offensive comments in the interview sure, but I'm not saying he's perfect. His books give this away. He wrote about environmental issues in Under the Burning Sky, the prison industrial complex in The United States of Prison and Profit, and seemingly the surveillance state in Homelandia and likely in his book on Snowden. I'd also like to gesture to his work with "the barb". The Berkeley Barb was a leftist underground student paper. I'd recommend taking a look at their archives linked here and their website to get a grasp for what he was writing with at the time. (Warning, the archives are often NSFW). But in short the barb's attitude was largely anti-war, sex-positive, fuck the establishment kind of writing. He was already like this when he ran into Louis in '73. This will inform our view of him moving forward and will be our framework for understanding how he interfaced with the AIDS crisis.

I think it's important to note Daniel's proximity to AIDS too. I mean, subtextually, he had a brush with it when Louis nearly killed him in '73. Louis was a silent killer sweeping through the queer men of San Fran. Gay men were likely seeing lovers and friends disappear after going home with a stranger. Risky sex and drug use leading to a death going unacknowledged, one that's largely impacting gay men? I think the subtext of it is queer-- I mean clear. (Louis is not an all around metaphor for AIDS, but the ties between it and vampirism in the series seem clear, and in this instance the connection is there specifically for Louis, no one come for my ass).

Speaking of, the proximity is there in his behaviors too. He's a drug user who goes home with random men. (Casual sex was a big part of gay culture back then, see the hanky code and cruising for this.) Both of these actions put him at high risk of contracting HIV and put him among populations more likely to contract it. He was using heroin, and needle sharing is a huge risk factor in the spread of bloodborne illnesses, which can lead to the spread of HIV (which is why needle exchanges are so important.)

Finally for incidental proximity early on, Daniel was living in San Francisco. We know he frequented Polynesian Mary's at least, and possibly other gay bars. He also likely lived near or in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood (given his memoir being called Hate and Ashbury). This area is very notably queer, historically. By 1990 HIV was the leading cause of death for young men in San Francisco at 61%. That's frighteningly high, and sure this was much later, but San Francisco was an epicenter.

AIDS was first identified in 1981 as a spread of Karposi Sarcoma and PCP (or "gay pneumonia" colloquially) in gay men in areas like New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. The first KS patient to go public (Bobbi Campbell) was in San Fran. He later wrote the first pamphlet on "safer sex". The first KS clinic was opened here, and later the first dedicated AIDS clinic (which Daniel seems to have written an article about according to his LinkedIn). By 1982 this epidemic was known as GRID, or Gay Related Immuno-Deficiency. (Interesting parallel that s1 notes Daniel as having an auto-immune disease, which Parkinson's is not primarily known as...). Daniel was covering these early years. His book A Shadow on the Skin was about this! It was a collection of articles he wrote on KS in the early years as he documented it becoming the AIDS crisis! He was routinely writing about the early epidemic. (s/o to @cbrownjc for this post where I found the blurb on the back of the book).

So, while living in San Francisco, this deeply politically involved young man was watching the early crisis unfold. He saw gay men dying slowly. Some gay men at the time described watching the AIDS crisis sweep through as watching their cities become ghost towns. This was something terrifying, something haunting, and something attributed largely to queer men. I mean, it was called GRID until 1982/1983. It wasn't until Ryan White, a 13 year old boy, contracted HIV from a blood transfusion in 1984 that people began seeing it as anything but just a gay disease. Even then, public perception didn't change quickly. It was so heavily associated with gay men, even, that getting national medical authorities to recognize women could contract it and treat it in women was a struggle.

All of this horror was occurring and the government ignored it. When they didn't ignore it? Ronald Reagan, then president, laughed at it. Hospitals were terrified of gay men, some refused to touch or treat AIDS patients. The FDA and CDC were slow to respond and to treat it.

In season one, Daniel is dismissive of his own queerness. He shrugs off his being in gay bars and hooking up with men, acts like it wasn't a big deal and it was just to score. I think this dismissive attitude likely stems from the AIDS crisis, at least in part. Lingering trauma from Louis' attack in '73 may play a role, after all, the body keeps the score. But I don't think we can overlook AIDS as a factor. The writers clearly didn't overlook it in his characterization, as exemplified above. I think they mean for this to impact who he is and how we view him! He watched some of the most terrifying years in recent queer history, of course he would downplay his queerness, of course he would marry two women even if he wasn't happy with them. (Not denying he may be bisexual, but he's certainly closeted.) And in the end, despite distance from his queerness, he still ended up having to waste away slowly from a disease with no cure, just uncomfortable treatments, much like men in the early AIDS crisis. (Early AIDS treatments were all trial based, you were lucky if you got in. You were lucky if you didn't end up in the control group. But the gamble was all you had, and those were the lucky ones. Even then it may not work, it was a trial for a reason. It wasn't until 1987 that AZT was approved to treat AIDS. It wasn't until the mid-90's, years later, that AIDS was considered survivable. I can't help but see his levadopa and how it only slows the inevitable as a parallel to this. A terrible reflection of earlier fears. Parkinson's has no cure. He'll deteriorate until he succumbs, even with medicine. He's lucky if it improves his quality of life, if it doesn't just make him more miserable. He'd be lucky to get a few more years.)

If Devil's Minion happened in the past, Armand watched his lover engage in high risk activities, while clearly aware of the risk given his coverage of AIDS. He watched Daniel writing a book worth of articles on KS and AIDS clinics. He knew how horrifying it was, he knew Daniel knew, and he watched his lover play with fire by using heroin anyway. And in the end? He still watched Daniel deteriorate slowly with medicine that only slowed it more.

If Devil's Minion is only coming and wasn't in the past at all? I think the impact of AIDS mostly falls to Daniel. After being turned he embraces life so fully. Yes, because he was dying before. But his style feels more queer once again. He doesn't have to fear any human diseases! He can fuck men! He can be gay! The shadow that hung over his youthful queer exploration, that interrupted it, is gone for him. And now he doesn't feel it's too late for him, I imagine. I mean, before he didn't have many peers, so many his age died. But now he's a vampire, he's outside of this. He can fuck young men, vampires, whatever. He's now outside of society whether he likes it or not, he's the "other", in for a penny in for a pound, right? And I think that's all going to impact who he is as a character going forward now too.

If there's interest in a Part 2 on the impact of AIDS activism in New York, since Daniel likely saw a lot of it up close, I'll gladly write it. I have opinions and info to share.

For now, stay safe everyone. I love you. And here's some further reading.

~~~~~~~~

A timeline of HIV and AIDS (1981-2024)

Only Your Calamity: The Beginnings of Activism by and for People With AIDS

HIV Infection as Leading Cause of Death Among Young Adults in US Cities and States (1993, about 1990)

On the impacts of the AIDS crisis on gay culture

The Queer significance of San Francisco

1 2 3 4 5 6

AIDS Memorial Quilt

Princess Diana's AIDS Advocacy

About the Berkeley Barb

How Ryan White impacted the view of AIDS

Daniel Molloy's LinkedIn

Practicum Page

[dirtysvthoughts]

ur gymrat boyfriends <3

tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, boyfriend! wonwoo, boyfriend! jihoon, poly! relationship, pet names (baby, honey, princess, my darlings), literally one mention of ass smacking, reader gets fully nude, wonwoo and jihoon are gymrats (kinda obvious lol), dirty talk, pussy eating - but guess who though 👀, sorta kinda wall & mirror sex? you’ll see, wonwoo kinda takes the lead in this one heheh 🤭

word count: 2.5k (i got carried away y’all, i’m so sorry this was supposed to be short 😭)

a/n: i was told several times i was a menace for coming up with this idea, so why not continue my spread of mischief 😗 i saw this pic and instantly got several thoughts running through my brain… thanks to @playmetheclassics @wonwussy and @gyuwoncheol for dealing with my nonsense 🥹

when jihoon suggested you join him and wonwoo at the gym, you were hesitant at first.

“won’t there be lots of people there? and i thought you two working out together was a you guys thing, i don’t wanna intrude on that.. we all need our own spaces,” your voice and eyes lower, but the hand your boyfriend places on your thigh immediately has your eyes staring into his.

“working out is never just a me and wonwoo thing, you’re always welcome to join us. you’ve just been too shy to tag along,” jihoon’s ruffles your hair as your eyes shift away again. “besides, we haven’t done anything with all three of us in a bit. it’ll be nice,” he pats your back as he gets up, heading towards your bathroom to take a shower.

a few days later, you take up jihoon’s offer, and decide to join him and your other boyfriend at the gym. donning a strappy black sports bra and black shorts, you enter the room your lovers are in - their bodies coming to attention once you come into the space.

“hi my darlings,” you sweetly muse as you put your things down. wonwoo immediately sets his weights to the side and approaches you, hands falling on your waist as he kisses the center of your forehead. “hey pretty girl,” he smirks as you lean further into his touch, caressing your cheek delicately with his fingertips. “i haven’t seen you in a minute, are you taking care of yourself?”

“yes, i promise,” you respond back, pressing a chaste kiss to his soft lips. wonwoo kisses you back moving his hands toward your chest - until jihoon clears his throat loudly, stopping the both of you in your tracks.

“i know you two haven’t seen each other in a while, but we do have to stay focused. wonwoo and i can’t spend all day here unfortunately, we have other schedules later on tonight.”

you sigh disappointingly, wanting more of wonwoo’s touch on you, but also realizing that jihoon was right. he did warn you in advance this morning that while the three of you would be reunited, it wouldn’t be as long as you would like it to. they could only stay at the gym for an hour until all three of you had to go your separate ways again. it had been about two weeks since all three of you were able to hang out together. who knows when the next time would be?

you then decided you just need the savor the present moments with your boyfriends.

30 more minutes pass in which all of you have worked on different body groups - your boyfriends helping each other with their chest workouts, and jihoon helping you on some of your weighted exercises, giving you tips and pointers on how to make it challenging, but not overwhelming. all three of you take a break from the exercise, getting some water as you lay down on your mat and your men sit on different benches.

“how do you guys do this everyday?” you question in astonishment. “it’s only been 30 minutes but i feel like i got in a workout for the rest of the week,” you grab your phone and scroll through some of your apps while your boyfriends laugh at your joke.

“you just gotta keep it consistent honey,” wonwoo comments. “the more you do it, the less harder it becomes.”

“and the faster you get the results you want,” jihoon adds in. “wonwoo and i didn’t get our physiques overnight. remember those late nights when one of us would have to facetime you at the gym?”

your pussy throbs at the memories jihoon unlocked for you. “how could i forget when you both unintentionally teased me with your muscles?” you murmur in your head, thinking about your last gym facetime with jihoon and how you wanted nothing more than for him to pin you down after seeing him in a tight, sleeveless black shirt, hair covering his eyes.?

“y-yeah,” you whisper biting down on your lip, quickly and tightly closing your legs to prevent the boys from catching on. “i don’t think i ever told you guys this, but i’m proud of you both for working so hard to take care of yourselves. and trust me, i definitely see the work you put in.”

wonwoo chuckles, running his hand through his hair. “i think you need to elaborate honey, what does that mean?”

you roll your eyes as you sit up, looking directly at wonwoo when your response comes out of your mouth. “i think you know what i mean, baby,” you tease as you roll up to your knees. “you and jihoon are too hot to handle,” you bite your lip as your mind continues to drown in your needy thoughts. “your arms are so built that i want to be pinned down or choked by them practically every day. when you both wear oversized shirts, you can still see the details of your chest muscles, and god, both of you have the waist of greek gods.. you’re my fucking adonises.”

“mmm, is that so honey?” wonwoo questions, but he already knows the answer. “if that’s the case, then come over here and sit on my lap, let me show you how this gym work can be put to very good use.”

you stand up, walking towards your boyfriend and when you’re close enough, gingerly putting one leg over his, making sure your pussy pressed against his crotch. once you feel situated, you begin to grind on wonwoo’s lap, hands pressing down on his shoulders, moaning at how you could feel his hardness at you just got started.

wonwoo quickly takes notice in how you were lost in pleasure, your eyes closed and your head falling back, revealing how pretty your neck and their lines looked. he takes advantage of this opportunity, and pulls you closer by the waist, holding you by your lower back. wonwoo then attaches his lips above your collarbone, pillow-like kisses heightening your sensations.

“mmmm,” you moan in ecstasy, sounds getting a bit louder as he kisses his way down to the valley of your chest. “mmm, wo’neil, more pl-please,” you reach for the nape of his neck and pull him forward to bring him to the exact spot he’s trying to reach. he smiles knowing both of you were on the same page, and starts mouthing at your breasts, leaving open kisses and licks anywhere he could.

jihoon was watching you both intently from his corner of the room, but when he heard you moan beautifully for the third time in a row and he saw wonwoo making love to your chest? he was done being a spectator. he had to join the action.

you and wonwoo are so caught up in each other that neither of you notice jihoon walking up to you both and stopping once he reaches your backside. his fingers grasp the hem of your bra and gently pull it up, causing you and wonwoo to momentarily freeze. your tilt your head back to look at your boyfriend, in a trance from how wonwoo riled you up.

“jihoon?” you question as he sits you up to pull your bra over your head, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“couldn’t let the two of you have all the fun,” he teases, now moving to touch your mounds. “such a beautiful body you have, baby,” smirking at how with every touch, your nipples got perkier.

you moan out jihoon’s name as wonwoo goes back to making you feel good with his mouth. the feeling of both of them on you has your toes curling and your panties getting wetter.

“shit, w-wonwoo, ji-jihoon,” you breathlessly whisper their names. “needed you both so bad, i missed this so much,” your last word turns into a moan when wonwoo feels up your clit through your shorts.

“jihoon, she’s so wet already,” wonwoo chuckles circling his thumb over the center of your crotch, enjoying the many noises that left your mouth. “we’ve barely even started honey, you wanna share with the class?”

“i’m practically about to make a spot on these shorts, i’m dripping wet for the both of you! take me on the floor, the wall, this fucking bench - i don’t care, i just need you both inside of me,” you desperately plead.

both of their dicks twitch at your words, and they share at look with each other. they nod their heads in agreement, and wonwoo places his thumb in your chin, ensuring all of your focus was on him.

“stand up pretty honey,” he commands, and you do, trying not to lose your balance. once you’re off wonwoo, jihoon slowly pulls your shorts down your legs, revealing the black, strappy panties you decided to wear.

amused, wonwoo trails his fingers over your waistband, pulling it away and then letting it snap against your skin. your core gushes, not expecting wonwoo playing with your panties to have such an effect on you.

“oh my god, please!” you whine. “no more teasing, i don’t think i can take it.”

jihoon laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple, fingers playing with your earlobe. “c’mon wonwoo, help me get our baby to the mirror.”

wonwoo gladly obliges, turning you around to have your back facing his chest. he helps you walk backwards as jihoon temporarily leaves you two, making sure the door was locked.

you turn your cheek toward wonwoo as his back finally presses against the reflective material, fingers slowly crawling towards your folds to touch you again - this time without any clothes blocking his way. “why do i get the feeling that you and hoon planned this before i got here?” you scoff in disbelief, but it quickly turns into another moan as wonwoo begins a scissoring motion that had your body aching for more.

“and if we did?” jihoon smirks, making his way back to you. he kneels when he gets in front of you, blowing lightly on your folds and you think you might pass out from the combined feeling of oral and physical touch in your most sensitive area.

“y-you guys are some-something el-else,” you can barely muster as jihoon begins to inhale your scent down there, groaning and mentioning how good you were going to taste.

“and i bet she would taste good too jihoon,”’wonwoo chimes in. “every time i’ve eaten you out, you’ve always filled my appetite. you’re so satisfying. you taste so sweet, pretty honey,” he brings his fingers out from inside you and brings them to your lips. without another thought, you suck dramatically on his fingers, enjoying how wonwoo pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth.

he pulls off with a pop and he goes to your chest, grabbing at any skin he could get his hands on. you press down on his hand as you brace for more, whimpering at how good it all felt.

you weren’t expecting to get louder however, and that’s when jihoon finally decides to put his mouth to use. he leaves one long lick on your clit, and your body breaks out in good shivers.

“oh my fucking god,” you breathe out, feeling like you were going to an otherworldly paradise. jihoon doesn’t stop there and continues his motions, alternating the pacing of his tongue.

“you like it when jihoon eats you out baby?” you nod frantically. “such a pretty little thing when you’re getting fucked out.. maybe i should fuck you from behind? hmm, put my tip in just a little bit and get you writhing for me,” he curves the shape of you ass and spanks the left cheek, causing you to tilt forward a bit as you cry out.

“please, please keep talking that way wonwoo, it s-sounds so good coming out of your mouth!” jihoon can’t help but laugh to himself because you were right, the more wonwoo talked dirty to you, the wetter you became, and all he wanted was to have your juices covering the bottom half of his face.

“such a needy, desperate little girl.. you love a filthy mouth don’t you?” before you can respond, wonwoo’s tongue roams on the edge of your earlobe and you whine out for your boyfriend.

“that’s right, keep calling my name out like that.. who’s helping you get off like this?”

“you are! wonwoo, wonwoo!”

“and be nice princess, who else is making you feel good? he’s working just as hard as me,” wonwoo tilts your head down to have you view jihoon, still making love to your folds like a pussy-starved man. jihoon looks at you with the most cunning, seductive look and you fear your coil could come undone any second.

“jihoonie,” you moan, biting down on your lip. “you’re making me feel so good down there, but i don’t know how long i can la- ah!” his tongue goes at its fastest pace since you three started and that’s all it takes for you to finally release, chanting both of your boyfriend’s names like they were the only words you knew.

jihoon moves his mouth away from the lower half of your body, a cheshire grin sweeping across his face, knowing his wish for today finally came true.

“came so much that you got it all over my face baby,” he licks his lips and the move has you clenching again, even though you had an intense orgasm seconds before. “dirty talk does something to you because you were dripping on my lips.” you blush at jihoon’s intimate statement as your body tries to slump to the floor, but wonwoo brings you back up.

“can’t have you laying down just yet, do you think you can handle another round princess? i do wanna put my dick inside of you, but only if you’re ready. what about you jihoon?”

the mentioned male nods in agreement, “yeah neither of us has filled you up yet, and i don’t think we can go anywhere until we’ve accomplished that.”

you look at the clock in the room, and there were about 10 minutes left before you guys had to leave. surely that’s enough time for one more orgasm.

“okay, but this time, i actually wanna see some skin from you two,” you pout. “i was the only one naked, and that’s not fair.. lemme see all of your work,” you innocently tease, doe eyes making them both horny.

“you really are something else,” jihoon expresses as he takes off his jacket first, then his shirt. wonwoo follows suit, hoodie coming off and his shirt following, both of their outerwear now in a small pile.

“you’ll have to help us with our pants though if you want both of us in your pretty little holes,” wonwoo remarks.

you sigh, knowing that even though you will get what you want, it’s not gonna come to you easy. that’s what it was like dealing with your gymrat boyfriends.

“yes baby,” you whisper as you come down to your knees, pulling down wonwoo, then jihoon’s pants and boxers down, revealing their pretty and girthy dicks.

“hm, i guess those late nights were worth it,” you say to yourself.

[itsvenera]

Just saw a post discussing how one of the Arcane writers said that if Vi had a prison wife she likely would've been Vastayan.. so Vi x Vastayan Reader oneshots pls?

Idk if you know greater League lore, but Vastayan are widely unaccepted, banned or hunted across Runeterra. They live in Piltover/(more) Zaun, but they hardly use magic out of fear of being found out & a lot of Vastayan stay in Ionia where it is safer for them to live!

author's note: ngl, I did have to do my research with this one because I was familiar with the greater League Lore or the Vastayan. Thankfully, Arcane did introduce their first Vastayan character in Season 2, so I did had a chance to learn a bit more about the race. <3 Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you like it! x

Honestly from all of the characters, I think she is one of the most likely to have a Vastayan partner.

I see her partner with either a fox-like features (like Ahri) or a bird-like ones (like Xayah).

Either way, if Vi had a prison wife, her character would be the same - smart, sneaky, cunning, seductive and not taking 'no' for an answer.

She was imprisoned in Stillwater a few years after Vi for smuggling Vastayan artifacts. As most of she was not welcomed warmly and it didn't take long for her to become a target for both the guards and other inmates.

Vi may have lost a lot of things, but sense of justice was not one of them. She would step up and assume the role as a 'protector' quickly, making it clear that the other inmates should back off if they want their face to remain whole.

The Vastayan would be initially sceptical about letting the pink-haired woman help her - not only she was a human, but she was also hotheaded, blunt and seemed to solve all her problems with fists, rather than words.

With time, however, both of them would grow close and their friendship would blossom into a relationship.

I totally see them as a badass duo that would climb the hierarchy at Stillwater because they balance their strengths so well. Vi is the street-smart and physically strong partner, while the Vastayan is the sweet-talking and charming one that would manage to turn many of their enemies into reluctant allies.

Vi is fiercely overprotective - not only because in her eyes the Vastayan is way too pure and precious for the prison dynamics, but also because she fears that her playing games with both inmates and guards will eventually blow up back into their faces.

Pretty intense relationship!

Neither of them is one to hold back, especially when it comes to voicing their opinions and feelings. There will be constant push and pull between how they handle things and since they are both stubborn and with the NEED to have the last word, sometimes their arguments can lead to pretty big fights.

Vi is usually the one to apologise first - even though it always comes as a reluctant and gruff 'sorry', she doesn't want to risk losing another person dear to her.

I imagine the Vastayan as the jealous partner - she would definitely not like other females approaching Vi and while she usually avoids direct confrontation, she would not think twice "baring her teeth" if she senses someone hitting up on her lover or try to catch her attention.

(Don't get me started on their dynamic once Caitlyn shows up... 👀)

Mutual admiration <3

I think both Vi and her partner would be in awe of each other's physical features and would use any chance to express this admiration.

The pink haired woman would definitely be in awe of her partner's animal characteristics - whether they are feathers or cat ears, she would often gently drag her fingers across them, whispering how beautiful she is.

"Y'know, sometimes it's hard to believe you are real... You are just so perfect. Makes me question if your existence in my life is just not too good to be true."

In return, the Vastayan would be in awe of Vi's physic and human body. I imagine she would often trace the scars on the woman's arms and back, before jokingly pulling her ear.

"How do you even hear with these small ears? At least they are cute. Just like you, my big strong wife!"

Overall, I think in prison they would have it pretty easy - they would be the 'star couple' so not many inmates would even DARE to challenge or harass them.

Once they are released, however, it would be a real challenge. It would take a lot of work from both sides in order to make it work especially when their priorities start to clash.

cc artwork: "Arcane" concept art

[sansaorgana]

👀 Gale showing his wife just how much he missed her overseas?

hello, love! 😌 I've already written a smutty fic like that here so this time I went with a scenario of Buck coming back home and the emotional aspect of this situation since they haven't seen each other in almost two years 😳😭🥺

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

When Buck was leaving his wife to go to Europe, he was planning to come back to her quickly after finishing his twenty five missions as fast as possible. Or he would die, which was also a possibility. But he certainly wasn’t planning to get shot down and end up in a German camp for the rest of the war.

Every day, week, month he spent there was filled with one thought only – lost time. All the time he was losing on surviving at all costs instead of living his life at home with his wife who was bravely and patiently waiting.

“Do you think they're still waiting for us? Our girls?” DeMarco asked one evening when they were playing cards and killing time.

“You’re asking as if you were so faithful yourself,” Bucky teased him. “Plenty of men back home hunting for the military wives.”

Buck shot him an angry glance for a second. He had been faithful to his wife. And he was sure she had been faithful to him, too. He wanted to be.

“Don’t look at me like that, Buck,” his friend pushed him playfully. “You guys have seen his wife?” He asked the others and they nodded in response. They all had seen a picture of Mrs. Cleven because Buck always kept it with him and occasionally stared at it with soppy puppy eyes. “What I’m saying is that I’m sure there are lots of men ‘round town who chase her,” Bucky explained.

“Thank you for clarifying,” Gale gritted his teeth.

“And she’s only a woman after all, we’re all humans with needs,” DeMarco joined the teasing. 

Buck stood up as the men looked up at him, confused.

“Come on, we are teasing,” Bucky grinned at him.

“I will not participate in this,” his friend sat on his bed instead and opened a book to read.

It was none of his business how his friends treated their wives and relationships but he was serious about his and he respected his wife more than anything. However, their jokes and teasing had planted a seed of insecurity in his mind. 

When she held him for the first time after his return, it felt surreal. Her hands were so soft when they cupped his face, yet they squeezed him so tight that he felt like she would crush his organs. Gale couldn’t stop looking at her face, her sparkling eyes, her smile, every tiny wrinkle on her face, every little detail that he had forgotten already; that the black-and-white picture failed to capture.

He was back home but he felt like he was put in a glass jar. People’s voices sounded as if they were coming from another room. His wife’s hand squeezed his and it was the only thing grounding him. Even his own house felt odd and strange – he had remembered it differently. Now it was decorated with Welcome Home signs and filled with the neighbours patting his back and asking him millions of questions per minute.

So when they all left and he closed the door behind the last couple living down the street, Buck sighed with relief and turned around to face reality. The house was dark at this hour but there were dim lights turned on in every room on the ground floor. His wife was taking care of the dishes in the kitchen and he looked at his face in the mirror by the front door.

There were scars scattered all over his cheeks and he looked exhausted. But other than that, he was a lucky bastard who had gotten home safe and sound. Even if it had taken him much longer than expected.

Gale fixed his hair in the mirror and entered the kitchen, awkwardly leaning on the doorframe. It was his home but it didn’t feel like his space anymore. It was hers now – his wife’s. She was humming a song and washing the plates and cups with an apron put loosely over her cocktail dress.

“Where did you get a dress like that?” He asked softly and she turned around with a smile.

“Oh! You startled me for a second,” she gasped. “I’m not used to having someone creeping up on me like that,” she admitted and Buck approached her to start drying the freshly washed dishes with a cloth. He wanted to help in any way. “I bought it last week. Been saving money for something special for your return and since it took you so long to come back to me…” she chuckled nervously, “I saved quite a lot.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck blushed at her joke.

“No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was them Krauts who didn’t want to let you go, am I right?” She pushed his shoulder with hers and went back to washing the remaining cups. “If I was them, I wouldn’t want to let you go either,” she added.

She always tried to joke about almost anything, to turn everything into a situation worth laughing or at least smiling about. It was one of the things Buck adored her for.

They finished washing and drying the dishes and she took her apron off with a sigh.

“I’ll finish cleaning tomorrow,” she told him.

“I will do it. Tomorrow,” Buck told her and she smiled faintly at him.

“Come, sit on the porch with me,” she held his hand as if he was made of glass and led him outside. There was a wooden bench on the porch and a small light turned on, flowers in the pots and an ashtray.

“You smoke now?” Buck raised an eyebrow at his wife as he sat down.

“No, only sometimes. You see, I had women coming here in the evenings,” she explained and sat down next to him, “and we would sit here for hours just like that. And talk,” she added and laid her head on his shoulder.

He nearly flinched at that gesture. It was such a long time that he wasn’t used to affection anymore. Yet he craved more of it.

“I’m glad you weren’t lonely,” he whispered and put his arm around her.

“Oh, but I was… So awfully lonely,” she looked up at him and he looked down to meet her gaze. Her eyes filled with tears.

“My friends were teasing me that…” Buck swallowed thickly, “...that a woman like you… Well, that she’d be chased ‘round town by all the men here.”

He felt stupid admitting that and he knew that this sort of accusation would hurt her. But she didn’t look angry nor sad. She only chuckled.

“No men left, no,” she shook her head. “All the best ones were away or dead,” she hugged his chest and he sighed with relief. “And what about you, Major Cleven? Am I supposed to believe you’ve been faithful?”

“Not many women in a camp for the captive pilots, you know?” Buck rubbed her back.

“But I mean before that,” her finger played with one of the buttons of his shirt.

“You can ask Bucky if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” she laughed. “You know, my friends teased me, too. They were saying there ain’t no way my man’s no cheater. But I knew you would never do that. I said, my Buck would rather die than look at another woman. And they all thought I was crazy,” she told him.

“You aren’t crazy,” Buck shook his head and leaned in to kiss the top of her head. “And you smell so nice. Is that a new perfume?”

“I didn’t use perfume,” she answered.

“Then it’s just you. You smell so nice,” he hummed to himself and buried his face in her hair.

She curled herself up in his arms and bit on her lip before asking in a shaky voice:

“Do you still love me?”

Gale’s heart skipped a beat as he looked down and raised her chin to make her look up.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you still love me?” She repeated the question and he took a deep breath in but she didn’t let him answer. “I know you think you do. And you had my picture but I am not that picture, Buck. I know you loved the picture and your little scenarios you were creating inside your head to keep yourself alive and I am not angry at you, not at all. But now when you’re back and when you see me, do you still love me or are you disappointed? Perhaps some part of you wishes I was that picture instead?” Her lower lip trembled as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say, darling,” he admitted and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “But I can show you. Come,” he stood up gently and raised her up with him to lead her back inside and pick her up bridal style to carry her upstairs to their bedroom. Her bedroom. He hadn’t slept there for almost two years.

Buck switched the light on and laid his wife on the bed gently as she kicked her shoes off of her feet. He hovered over her on bed and joined their lips together in a sweet and gentle kiss as his fingertips caressed her jaw and neck.

“I missed you,” he whispered after breaking the kiss and looking deep into her eyes. “I missed the real you. That picture was never enough,” he assured her and she smiled at him before throwing her hands around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. Hers was more eager, though; it was hungry and sloppy and it encouraged him to roam his hands more freely all around her body.

“I’m scared,” she breathed out. “I’m scared that I’ve grown too used to being alone.”

“You’ll grow used to having me around again the same way. I’m not letting you go, sweetheart,” he bopped on her nose and she rolled her eyes with a chuckle.

“Buck Cleven, my hero,” her delicate hands cupped his cheeks and caressed the scars with her fingertips.

“I’m no hero,” he protested.

“To me you are,” she insisted and furrowed her brows. “You had to be in so much pain and I wish I could take at least some of it.”

“I would never want you to,” Buck kissed her wrist softly. “It would spoil all your sweetness.”

“Oh, it’s already spoiled. You haven’t seen me at my worst,” she confessed and he looked at her face, worryingly. “When I was going crazy without you here all alone. You’d send me to asylum if you saw.”

“I would not,” he assured her, seriously. “You haven’t seen me at my worst either. I don’t think you would like me like that,” he swallowed thickly as the horrific memories flashed in front of his eyes. “The things I did to come back to you…”

“Shh, I don’t have to know,” she pulled his face down and placed soft kisses upon his cheeks, nose and chin. “Unless you want to share it with me one day. But you don’t have to tell me anything, Buck.”

“I’m just so happy to be home,” he whispered almost inaudibly, their faces so close that their lips were touching.

“And I’m happy to have you back, baby,” she smiled and fixed his hair.

“Every breath was for you, every step, every bomb I dropped, every bullet I avoided, every day and every night. Just to come back to you,” he kept looking deep into her eyes. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“Major Cleven,” she shook her head and rubbed her nose with his, “your wife would wait a million years for you, don’t you know…?”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[milessunflowers]

any t4t!oscar thoughts? 👀

omg so many!

trans!oscar piastri x trans! reader

synopsis: as requested, my thoughts abt t4t with oscar!

author's note: vinnie omg this has sparked so many ideas for this! i fell asleep before i could answer it last night but im back at and now my thoughts are consumed. as always, request are open so feel free to send as many as you want, as long as they follow guidelines!

first thing that came to mind was when you both came out to each other. like neither one of you expected it and were shocked (in a good way) to find out. went out for a little dinner date after with goofy grins

i think when one of you is dysphoric, the other usually gets slightly dysphoric as well, just not as bad. but then it turns into a lazy day full of watching movies and cuddles and junk food

you borrow each other's clothes more than you wear your own cuz it makes you feel better to wear them (you both refuse to start buying those types of clothes and continue to steal each others)

your parents love him and his parents love you. it makes both sides equally happy and excited that you both found someone that knows the process and makes you guys happy

dates usually aren't super extravagant but small, thoughtful ones. like if one of you wants to stay home, you order in from their favorite place. if one of you guys wants to go to a museum or something, you go to the museum

you cook mainly because i feel like oscar would burn everything down (didn't he use the oven to dry his clothes?)

but i also feel like oscar can bake like good ass cookies and that's about it. he tried brownies and cakes and other baked goods but they all ended up burnt

anything the other needs help with, whether with hormones or getting them anything they need, you guys with always do it

kinda like how oscar is already, but he doesn't post too much about your relationship as he wants to keep things private but not a secret just because he doesn't like the press asking personal questions

sometimes you both just sit in a comfortable silence going about your task, occasionally saying a thing or two

just based off the video with lando and him, oscar's love language i feel is acts of service or words of affirmation while i would feel like he would have a boyfriend who's love language is physical touch or gift giving (idk i think those mash well)

you and hattie are 1000% besties. when you and oscar go visit them, you and her are basically gossiping the whole time and it annoys oscar to no end bc he just wants to spend time with his boyfriend but his sister keeps stealing him :(

you both lovingly tease him about it and you make it up to him by covering his face in kisses, making him smile sweetly

nicole absolutely adores you and welcomed you into the family with open arms so fast you could barely blink

if you ever do get i pet, i definitely believe it would be an orange cat (lando calls the cat papaya even though that's not it's name)

when you go to races, you're bombarded with press asking abt the relationship but you politely decline to speak and hurry to catch up with oscar

if he gets nervous before a race, i feel like he would start to get dysphoric and put himself down, which you then distract him before he gets into the car so he forgets about it (works every single time)

always holding hands when you are out and about

TAGS!

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m

[waynes-multiverse]

The Exit Strategy – Part 4

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, some angst & feels, family secrets, spy stuff, a bit of spiciness

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Welcome back, friends! We're diving a bit into Shaw family secrets this week – fully Wayne's version, though. While I did read the books, there's no major spoilers**, so don't you worry. I just played with an idea here 🤓 I also won't be fully diving into the Shaw family life, but some things are heavily hinted to be... fishy here 👀 Enjoy & let me know what you think! 🤍

**There's a small part where Russell tells Colter about their parents. It's mentioned in the books that their mother was a psychiatrist. I took that and ran with it 🤷‍♀️

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 4: This Is Not an Exit

“You’ve been walking down memory lane a lot tonight,” you teased with a nudge of his ribs, still tightly cuddled in his warm embrace in the freezing basement.

“Haven’t you?”

“No, I have,” you admitted with a melancholic sigh. “Maybe we should stop dwelling on the past so much. Think more about the future…”

Russell scoffed a small chuckle. “Dory said something similar not that long ago. Actually the reason why I came here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his fingers absently drawing circles on your arm. “I think it’s time we retire, sweetheart. I mean, after everything we’ve been through, I think we deserve to, right? You know, sometimes I wake up in the morning, and I’m surprised we’re even still here, considering how many war zones we’ve been in.”

“Well, you know what they say – beware the old soldier because he’s old for a reason,” you said with a smile.

“Yeah, think I might be getting a little too old…” Russell chucked lightly, running a hand through his long hair. “So? What d’you think? One last hurrah, and then we hang this up? I was thinking maybe we could open up a brewery, you know? A family place. Bet the kids would love it.”

“Sounds nice,” you said with a yearning smile. You wanted all of that and more. “I’d love to retire with you.”

“But?”

You laughed slightly at his anticipating look. “But I don’t think you can yet.”

His eyebrows drew together till they met above the bridge of his freckled nose. “What d’you mean? I just told you I’m ready.”

“You say you are, but you aren’t,” you replied like the annoying Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Have you solved the murder yet?”

Russell licked his lips, which was his telltale sign that you caught him there. After all, you knew him better than anyone in this world – knowing when he needed to be pushed and shoved was part of it.

“No, but I don’t need to anymore. Look, the only reason I wanted to solve it was because I thought I had to prove my innocence to Colter. And well, turns out I didn’t. He believed me anyways, so…”

“That wasn’t the only reason,” you reminded him with a scrutinizing look.

“Maybe, but like I said – Dory thinks we should keep all this bullshit in the past, and after the last three years, I’m starting to agree with her,” Russell said, dragging a hand over his face.

“Look, if that’s what you want–”

“It’s what I want,” he assured you and placed a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it. “Having my little brother and sister back is enough. I don’t need more. Nothing good ever comes from being greedy.”

You nodded in understanding, clearing your throat. “Still, in the name of our deal to always be honest, I kinda have to confess something.”

Rising from your seat, you dusted off your awful, flowery skirt and wandered to the wall safe once more, retrieving a thick folder from it. You took your place next to Russell again, his questioning eyes meeting yours as you handed him your research.

“When you didn’t come back after a year or so, I started looking into it as well. Might have done a full deep-dive,” you admitted with a bite of your lip.

Russell shot you a chiding look, shaking his head, but most of all, he was worried. “I told you to leave it alone. You don’t know what sorta people we’re dealing with here, but we do know they’re dangerous.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Figured I could speed it along. I do have more access than you,” you countered softly. “I’m sorry, okay? But I was careful. I promise.”

“Good,” he said and looked at you, interlacing your fingers with his. “‘Cause the last thing I want is losing you over this bullshit, too.”

Nodding, you squeezed his hand in reassurance. “There’s something you should know, though.” He raised his brow anew – you’d always been full of surprises. Life certainly had never been boring. “Someone accessed the files after me.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Definitely had a higher clearance than me, though,” you replied.

Russell threw his arms up, and you could see he was getting more upset again. “See? This is what I’m talking about! The whole point of us separating was to keep you and the kids away from it. Otherwise, we could’ve just stayed together, and I could’ve joined Horizon anyways.”

“I know that, too,” you said remorsefully. “But don’t worry. I wasn’t followed, and no one ever came after me. I made sure of it. It’s been two years now. They probably figured it was nothing after I didn’t reach out to you straight away.”

“Still… I don’t want you involved, alright?”

“What about Colter? Doesn’t he want to know? He doesn’t strike me as someone who just lets things go,” you noted observantly.

Russell clicked his tongue – a sign of defeat. “He isn’t, but he’s not gonna find anything either. I mean, the only reason I know is because you were so relentless and kept digging.”

“You haven’t told him what we found out?”

Russell licked his lips and admitted quietly, “No. I don’t think it does anyone any good to keep looking into this.”

Leaning forward and hugging your knees, your head bobbed pensively. “I thought you guys talked about what happened?”

“We did. Kinda… It’s complicated,” he stated, swallowing. “Dory was easy, you know? I guess she never really believed it… But it took a while till Colter even picked up the phone, let alone answered a goddamn text message. Had to get a little annoying.”

You smirked. “Well, you’re good at that. That’s how you won me over.”

“By being persistent?”

“Exactly. Like a tardigrade.” You grinned. “I mean, you kind of are doing it now again, too.”

He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, guess so.”

“Is that why you haven’t told him about me and the kids? Because you’re not sure about him yet?”

“Partially, yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I wanted to protect you. And maybe myself a little, too… Not sure I’m ready for those two worlds to meet yet, you know? I mean, you and the kids are the best things that ever happened to me, and when I look at Colter or Dory, I’m sometimes reminded of the worst things in my life.”

“What about your mother?”

Russell let out an exhaustive sigh that was half amused. “Geez, you haven’t changed a bit. You still ask the most uncomfortable questions possible.”

You laughed a little. “Gathering intelligence in uncomfortable ways is kind of my job, Shaw.”

“Yup, and no one’s better at it than you, sweetheart,” Russell quipped.

“So I’m guessing it’s a no on Mommie Dearest?”

Russell licked his lips, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna see her. Mostly because I don’t even know what to fucking say anymore,” he said. “I don’t want her to meet the kids either.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him and took his hand in yours. “It’s your choice, Russ. We go at your pace, alright?”

“Thank you.” Russell brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand before he looked at you deeply, a smile dancing across his plump lips. “I love you.”

You mirrored his smile, your heart fluttering like a wild butterfly in your chest. “I love you, too.”

“I’ll tell them – Dory and Colter. I want this to work,” he promised. “Just… after we finish this. I want him to have a clear head. I prefer not to get him killed, you know?”

“I get it. I thought the same thing when I first met you, too,” you joked, patting his chest. “But you brought him into this. It’s kinda on you.”

Russell scratched his bearded chin. “Yeah, but I didn’t exactly know what I’d bring him into.”

“Didn’t you, though?”

Amused, Russell bobbed his head. “Yeah, maybe I did,” he acknowledged. “You know, when Manny called me–”

Your eyes widened. “Manny called you?”

Russell blinked at you, brow creased in confusion. “Yeah, why?”

“That motherfucker…”

Furiously, you stomped to the desk and grabbed the radio. “Drone-5. This is Queen Bee-1. Report to Hive.”

The static of the radio cracked almost instantly, as if the idiot had been waiting all night for this call. “Yo, Queen Bee-1. How’s my boy?” Manny’s laugh echoed through the basement.

Russell’s glowing cheeks reached his eyes when he heard his friend’s voice. He’d known the guy almost as long as Doug.

“You’re the one who fucking told him?!” you yelled into the radio, almost crushing the device in your hand.

“To be fair, I told him not to engage with tango,” Manny sheepishly replied.

“Ha-ha, funny. Fuck you,” you huffed and tossed Russ the walkie-talkie. He caught it with one hand.

His boyish grin widened as he pushed the button. “You know, Drone-5, you could’ve told me you were actually working this thing.”

“Aw, you know I can’t do that. But I guess congrats on crashing another operation. You’re Worker Bee-3 now. Old habits die hard, huh?” Manny chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess…” Russell replied with a lighthearted chuckle, but his teeth tugged pensively at his lips.

“Great to have you back, brother. Hope this works out for you. See you on the other side, man. Oh, and could you move like three feet to the left and turn the washer off? We can barely hear and see you guys, and Drone-2 just ran out to grab popco–”

“No, absolutely not. Out,” you snapped as you grabbed the radio from Russ. He laughed as you put it furiously back on the desk. You knew what you had signed up for, but you still deserved some privacy. Annoyed, you took off your cross necklace – another bug – and settled down beside him again.

“What did he say when he called you?”

“Nothing much, really. Just told me your coordinates and that you like to pick up your mail at three o’clock at the local post office,” Russell replied.

You shook your head, smiling. “Well, he always loved you, so…” You started to chew on your lower lip, the anxiety in your belly returning. For the sake of your mind and heart, you had to make sure Russell was fully back, and this wasn’t just a fluke. “You know, I worry sometimes that if you don’t face this thing with your family, you’ll always feel this way. I mean, after Lewis was born–”

“I know.” Russell nodded, swallowing thickly. He saw the worry shimmering in your eyes, and it cracked his heart a little. “I know I kinda lost it there. Took me by surprise, too. Trust me. Figured I had dealt with all that shit already, you know? But I guess seeing you with him and feeling all that love myself, I just-… I don’t know. I don’t know how she could do it… Ashton was one thing, but she just stood by. And I don’t even know what the hell she was up to while he took us out into those woods…” He shook his head as if to rattle the answer out of his brain. “And then when we found out you were pregnant again… I mean, I’d barely held it together with Lewis. Everything just became a blur. I couldn’t think straight anymore, and I worried all the time I’d be like them…”

“I tried to help,” you said softly.

“I know you did. Guess this was just something I had to figure out on my own,” he replied with a beat shrug.

“How’s your vision now? Still blurry?”

“Clearer than ever.” A smile flickered alive on his lips, green eyes boring into yours as he leaned in and kissed you slowly like he meant every word. Blowing a raspberry, he then turned his attention to the file in his lap. “So, what am I gonna find in there?”

“Honestly, nothing we haven’t already puzzled together,” you replied, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “But I found a couple of names associated with your parents. Thought maybe you could look at them and see if you recognize the person you saw in the woods.”

“I already know where this is going…”

“Russ, please, just–”

Russell interrupted you, placing a soothing palm on your thigh that curbed your enthusiasm. “I’ll think about it, alright?”

Satisfied, you raised two placating hands. “All I was asking…”

“How was the lasagna?”

After four hours in the basement, you and Russell quietly treaded up the stairs a few minutes after midnight, finding Colter in the kitchen, eating leftovers out of the ceramic form in the warm glow of the stove light. Tom, on the other hand, had passed out on the couch, only the blue flickers of the TV and the soft noises of a peaceful nature documentary filling the silence of the dark living room.

“Excellent,” Colter stated, swallowing down a mouthful of lasagna before speaking. “I told Tom he should be a chef in a restaurant or something.”

Russell’s brow knitted in doubt. “Really? Lemme try.”

“You just ate two entire bags of junk. You can’t still be hungry,” you argued with a giggle, shaking your head.

“It’s lasagna,” Russell said simply, grabbed a fork from the drawer, and dove right in.

That man would eat anything. You’d seen him do it, too. He didn’t even go hungry when he was lost in a desert.

“Wow, that is good,” Russell announced his judgement with a full mouth. “Maybe we should hire Tom for the brewery, huh?”

“I’m guessing this means you two talked?” Colter asked with a carefully arched brow.

“Hmm. I don’t know,” Russell mused in jest. “What d’you say, sweetheart? You taking me back?”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. “Guess I have to. God knows returning you is impossible.”

Russell laughed and slung an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed your temple.

But then you noticed Colter’s smile falter, his brows creasing in question. “Is your hair different?”

“Shit!”

Wide-eyed, you bolted back down the creaking stairs to the basement, hearing Russell’s laughter fill the kitchen.

“Was she wearing a wig? And her eyes too, right?” Puzzled, Colter tried to piece it all together. He had already figured by your extensive vocabulary of swear words that you might be a better match for his older brother than he had initially surmised.

“Yup, all fake, man,” Russell confirmed and smirked. “Still think she’s not my type yet?”

“No, I can see it now,” Colter admitted, chuckling. “So, you guys are good?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Russell nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, swallowing.

Colter’s smile widened, filling the older Shaw’s stomach with more guilt. “That’s great. Happy for you, man. Guess that means you’re retiring now, huh?”

Russell scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, we’ll see. Always depends on what the wife decides, you know?”

Yup, he sprinkled that important bit of information into a joke. Then, he watched his little brother take a stumped step back, brow furrowing and unfurrowing and then furrowing again.

“Wha-, wife?”

Russell produced a popping sound with his lips like the noise of a bottle when the cork was pulled. Welp, this bottle was surely open now.

“Yup, got married in Thailand in 2011,” he added another helpful tidbit of information, but Colter’s jaw dislodged all the same.

“Alright, got this all figured out,” you said, sauntering back into the kitchen with a pastel pink towel wrapped around your head and a matching bathrobe. You’d just grabbed them from the dryer, the fluffy material still cozily warm. It was the best option, considering you didn’t want to mess around with your wig as well after popping the lenses back in had already cost you most of your patience. In your little bubble of bliss, you hadn’t instantly noticed the brothers staring at you. But once you did, your brows morphed into a frown. “What’s going on?”

“You two are married?” Colter asked, a pointed finger flicking from Russell to you.

You threw your arms up, looking at your husband. “I was gone for five minutes! What happened to telling him after the operation?”

Russell offered you a sheepish shrug. “Well, this old soldier’s getting weak too, apparently.”

“He said it like a joke…” Colter mumbled, still in the middle of processing this new revelation. His older, estranged-but-now-less-strange brother had a wife. A family. Friends. And he knew none of it. What else was there? Kids?

“Yeah, he does that...” You shot your husband a scolding sideways look. “Should I leave you two alone for this?” you then offered, hoping the answer was a goddamn yes.

“Why would you? You’re family, right?” Colter retorted with a dry smile and a sharp look.

You pursed your lips. While you could see some similarities between the brothers, you took note of one big difference: Russell wasn’t as sarcastic and sharp-tongued. Probably because Russell had always been more concerned with what he should, would, or could share with people in an overthinking loop, while his younger brother seemed obviously free of that burden.

“Don’t take it out on her,” Russell stepped in gently, which really was a warning. “She didn’t know about any of this. Kinda pushed her into it.”

“Seems to be your style,” Colter scoffed.

“Can’t work for the CIA without going through a baptism of fire, little brother,” Russell said simply, giving an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders.

“Why would you not tell me?” Colter stared at him, his look a mix of reproach and agitation.

“Look, you weren’t exactly welcoming during our first meeting,” Russell argued with a bit of bark in his deep voice, although confrontation was probably not the best approach. But why should he always have to take the blame for everything? He’d already done that for more than two decades.

“That was months ago,” Colter countered, scowling. “I’d like to think I’ve come around since then… Coulda told me after we saved Doug.”

Russell let out a small sigh of defeat, rolling his eyes back slightly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No, yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, man, alright?” he apologized earnestly.

With a questioning brow, you carefully nudged your husband’s arm. “What happened to Doug? Is he alright?”

“Yeah, uh, he went to work for Horizon with me. I’ll tell you later, okay?” Russell replied, his voice a lot quieter as if sharing a secret, and if Horizon was involved he probably was.

“Is Tracy okay?”

“She’s fine. Little shook up. You should probably give her a call. Smooth things out,” Russell told you.

Tracy thought you worked in marketing at some company for the government. Whenever you, Russell, and Doug were stuck on a mission, the boys made you call her to “smooth things out” – aka reassuring her everything was certainly fine with her husband and he wasn't in any danger at all. They’d once made you call her from a Black Hawk. The noise had been fun to explain away – you’d told her you were picking up a client from a helicopter pad.

Colter chewed on the insides of his cheeks. “So she knows Doug, too?”

Russell nodded. “Yeah, me and Doug were mostly Delta, but SAD liked to borrow us from time to time. We ran in her team for quite a while. She was actually the one who recruited me.”

At his little wink your way, you smiled. He’d come along way from the sweet boy you had once teased like a special-forces-trained kindergartner.

“Listen, things were obviously a little complicated between me and her the last few years,” Russell (under)stated. “But I’ve brought you here for a reason, okay? Figured it’s time you meet your sister-in-law.”

Eyes drifting from you to Russell, Colter pursed his lips – a tell he shared with his brother.

“Are you mad? I can’t tell.” Frowning, Russell tilted his head.

“No,” you absentmindedly replied for Colter, who gave you a curious look but steered his attention back to Russell.

“No,” the younger Shaw repeated your assumption. “I mean, not more than I was before, you know?”

Russell’s creases only deepened. “No, I don’t know.”

“He means he’s indifferent about knowing or not knowing we’re married because he’s already pissed about not knowing about my existence in general,” you explained.

“Ah. Your nerd is showing, sweetheart,” Russell teased you with a smile that made your heart melt.

“Dory would like her,” Colter commented like the thought had just popped into his head – something else he didn’t share with his brother.

You’d always wondered about the youngest Shaw of the three. Russell could never tell you much about Dory. His memory had been one of a smart and feisty nine-year-old, not a young woman and physics professor.

Thumbing at you, Russell cocked a brow at his brother. “Is she right, though?”

“Spot on, actually.” Colter’s tongue poked his cheek, his gaze flickering with a hint of astonishment and new-found respect for you. “And I guess I’m not really mad either way. Just… surprising, you know? I should’ve asked. That’s on me.”

Russell seemed more than a little baffled to hear this, considering he had to pause to find an appropriate response. “No, uh, we’re good. I could’ve just told you, anyways.”

“Yeah, no, that’s alright.” Colter swallowed, sending his older brother a smile of forgiveness. “Honestly, I was glad to hear you weren’t alone all this time, so…”

Russell’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he pushed down the lump in his throat. With a nod, he averted his green eyes to the kitchen floor. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

“Aw, aren’t you guys adorable,” you teased.

Colter wanted to retort something dry-witted, but Russell held up a warning finger. “Ah – wait for it… Trust me. She’s not done.”

“You girls need tissues or a tampon, maybe?”

“Oh, Dory would definitely like her,” Colter repeated his earlier statement with an amused grin.

Russell, on the other hand, shot you a pointed look, but that had barely ever stopped you before. “Okay, you can lay down. You don’t have to give him the initiation. No hazing my little brother,” he ordered you sternly, and you stifled a snort. “And no one better kidnaps him tonight and puts a bag over his head, alright? I don’t wanna pick him up beaten and bloody from some warehouse tomorrow morning.”

“Hm, what?” Colter’s brow furrowed. For the first time, you could see slight panic spread in his pupils.

Who was hazing who now?

You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance. “Fine, we’ll leave him alone,” you acted your capitulation.

The younger Shaw blinked at you. “Thank you?”

“Should we at least tell him about the other thing while we’re at it?” you asked Russell with a suggestive look.

Thoughtfully, he paused for a beat, then clicked his tongue. “No, I got it from here. It’s getting late. We’ve been here long enough,” he decided. “This is less becoming a friendly ‘welcome-to -the-neighborhood’ dinner and more starting to look like an orgy to the neighbors. Especially since you’ve put on the robe.”

“It just came from the dryer. Look, it’s so soft and warm,” you argued, pouting, your palms caressing the fluffy material on your arms.

“Uh-huh.”

The little bob of his Adam’s apple made you grin slyly. The way his jaw ticked and his pupils widened with a primal hunger, you could tell he wanted to tear that robe right off of you. The thought caused a shudder to run down your spine.

“What, uh, other thing do you have to tell me?” Colter asked and smiled expectantly, tapping his fingers on the the counter.

Russell, however, grabbed his arm and dragged his curious little brother toward the exit. “I’ll tell you in the car,” he said and thumbed to the front door behind his shoulder. “Wait outside. Gimme five minutes, alright?”

Wordlessly, Colter nodded without argument, gave you a quick goodbye-wave of his hand, and strolled leisurely back to his car as if he knew exactly what his older brother intended to do.

As expected, Russell impatiently conquered your lips, roughly pressing you against the foyer’s wall, your arms draping around his neck.

“What’s the bedroom situation in this place?” he asked between kisses.

“First floor, west side, third window from the right. I’ll leave it unlatched,” you replied, smiling against his lips. “Tom’s always sleeping on the couch. Part of our cover is going to marriage counseling with Pastor Jeff, which happens to work out great for us.”

You exhaled a shuddered breath when one of his hands wandered past the robe and splayed warm against your ribcage, just underneath your breast. His thumb fought an itch to get closer.

“Wouldn’t do that, baby,” you murmured into his ear with an amused smirk. “That boner’s not gonna go away in five minutes.”

“Mmm, I know,” he groaned and dropped his head between your boobs, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your collarbone. If he continued on with this, your arousal would surely streak down your bare thighs soon. Luckily, he had mercy on the both of you. “I’ll talk to him and then come back, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. He kissed your lips, then your forehead, and then disappeared through the door with the same cometary velocity he had entered your vision.

And all you could do was hope you’d see him one more time in your life.

“So?”

4.3 seconds after Colter killed the engine of his pickup in a spot a block away to the west side of your house – as per Russell’s very specific instruction – he stared scrutinizingly at his older brother.

Impatience was also a family trait – one even their father had despised.

“Look, uhm, there’s no easy way to break the news…”

“Is this about you having two kids?”

When Russell’s eyes met Colter’s, he didn’t recognize any anger, hurt or resentment in them – just pure slyness. At least that was good news. His little brother was just going to be annoying about this whole thing.

“Yeah, remember those five minutes you left me alone in the car? I called Bobby. Had him check some things out for me. Wasn’t easy to find. I’ll give you that…”

As expected, Colter was going to be a smartass about it. He figured it out on his own. He won the game.

“Hmm.” Russell pursed his lips, nodding. “You do know the CIA is on your guy’s ass now, right? Shouldn’t have done it in their perimeter, man. Manny’s probably all over this by now…”

Then his brow knit as if the thought of his old friend had provoked an idea, his head tilting with narrowed eyes at the air vents on the dashboard. How long had that car been parked outside and out of sight again?

Like a game of Operation, Russell then used thumb and pointer finger as his tweezers to retrieve a tiny bug – the spy kind.

“Gotcha,” Russell muttered, smirking. He then held the bug close to the speakers of the radio before turning up the volume to its highest setting – only for a second. He switched the radio off, rolled down the window, and threw the unwanted listening device onto the pavement. “That should teach ‘em a lesson…”

Colter cocked an incredulous brow at his brother. “They bugged my car?”

“Oh, trust me, they bug anything they can get their greedy little hands on,” Russell retorted. “Would probably check for a tracker underneath, too.”

“Great, thanks,” Colter huffed wryly.

“Hey, you wanted in. That’s what they do,” Russell reminded him, shrugging, but there was a smile of amusement on his lips.

Colter only bobbed his head. “So, you and her? You guys are good now? Just like that? Seemed… easy. Sorta…”

Russell chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through his beard. He knew his relationship with you was unconventional, but it had always worked for you and him.

“Me and Y/N have a deal, you know? It’s not all black and white. I mean, we became aware a long time ago that the two of us operate in a lot of gray zones. But, uh, we always know we can rely on each other, you know? Doesn’t matter if we’ve been separated by time or space,” Russell explained to the best of his abilities.

“So what happened?” Colter prompted with the same amount of confusion. “Why did you guys split up? I saw on the birth certificate your daughter was only two years old. I mean, did you-… did you even know?”

Russell inhaled deeply, nodding. “I knew she was pregnant. When she told me back then, I-…” He paused, licking his lips. It wasn’t something he had ever talked about with anyone before – not even you. “Well, shortly after that, I had a breakdown and I-… I almost hurt her.” He choked on the words, fighting the sting in his eyes.

He’d tried so hard to forget, wasn’t even sure he had ever really apologized for it to you because he so badly didn’t want it to exist that he’d tried to wish it out of literal existence, and hence, never really blamed you for leaving like you did. He understood. In fact, he had even wished you’d leave. He had convinced himself you’d be better off without him – something he still believed to be true – but he also knew he wasn’t better off without you.

He’d been lost and alone. And maybe, he was being selfish by crashing back into your life now. Or Dory’s. And Colter’s.

“I mean, nothing ever really bad happened. It’s just-… That night I came scarily close,” Russell confessed, swallowing thickly. He still hated himself for that night and everything that followed. “It’s like a switch flipped, you know? I couldn’t do anything against it… And Lewis saw parts of it, and I was already impatient with him and short with her the weeks before, so I just left that night and disappeared for two months. Volunteered for some mission. Figured it was best for everybody.”

It’s better off if he never comes back…

Russell licked his chapped lips. The next part was the hardest.

“When I got back, she told me she got a job offer in another country, and that she would be taking it and taking Lewis with her. She wanted me to use the time to… I don’t know… solve this, I guess.” He let out a humorless scoff at the painful memory.

Russell hadn’t seen it at first, maybe because he hadn’t wanted to, his anger and pain blurring the truth. After his son had been born, Russell knew you could see him struggling, so you started digging deeper into his family and what really happened. And when you’d found something – Horizon – you’d told him you could infiltrate. Naturally, Russell had passed a hard no – it had been a five-hour long fight, but he'd emerged victoriously by the end. So, you’d told him he should do it, but he didn’t want to leave you, and he didn’t want to endanger and jeopardize his family.

He’d told he was fine, but he wasn’t. It kept gnawing on him – and gnawing and gnawing and gnawing… till you eventually pulled the plug and ended his suffering.

“I was exhausted, so I told her we’d talk about it in the morning. When I woke up, they were gone. Didn’t even notice she’d already packed.”

Colter was silent for a beat. “Was it PTSD or something?”

“Or somethin’,” replied Russell.

“But you’re good now?” Colter checked with a warily raised brow.

“Guess so…”

Truthfully, Russell didn’t know if he was or wasn’t. He’d tried hard to figure out what it was exactly that had set him off that night and fix it, but he didn’t know if that feeling would ever disappear for good. He just knew he had never felt that way again since then. But could he guarantee it would never come back?

He didn’t know.

“Look, all I know is, seeing you and Dory again helped, so…” Russell twitched his shoulders and sighed. He didn’t know what else to say, how to explain it better, but Colter seemed to understand anyway, reading between the lines.

Russell worried he’d be like their father.

“I think I get it.” The younger Shaw nodded and licked his lips. “You know, you’re not crazy like Dad was, Russ. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re crazy in your own way, but I wouldn’t worry about the other stuff.”

“Well, thanks,” Russell said, not convinced but appreciative of the vote of confidence. “Makes at least one of us…”

“I-, uh, I noticed their names,” Colter then said and clarified, “Lewis and Amelia. Like explorers. Like us.”

“Ah.” Russell smacked his lips and brushed it off, “Wasn’t really my idea. I told Y/N that story once. Guess she took a liking to it..”

“Are you, you know, gonna tell Mom?”

Russell was almost surprised by the question. The brothers had barely talked about their mother since they’d reconnected. Considering Colter had never brought her up again after their first meeting, Russell figured there was a reason for that – and he thought he probably knew the reason, too.

Russell scoffed a chuckle and looked at his little brother with an almost incredulous look. “I think you can guess the answer to that one,” he replied and figured it said enough. “Did you tell her I came back?”

Colter pursed his lips, and Russell took it as a sign of admission. So his mother knew. Great…

“Sorta,” Colter admitted hesitantly.

“What d’she say?” Russell almost smiled out of amusement. He already knew the answer, but his brother still seemed reluctant. “C’mon, you can tell me. I’m not gonna be butthurt after twenty years…”

“She told me to ignore you,” Colter finally confessed, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. They had ever since his mother said them, but even more so now that he knew his brother – and parts of the truth.

“Hmm,” Russell hummed with tight lips and ground his jaw.

Granted, the confession stung more than Russell would ever be willing to admit. The tiny, naive part inside of him had constructed a hopeless fantasy of his mother having a sudden change of heart over the last two decades and happily welcoming her firstborn back. Apparently, not a thing had changed, though, and he cursed himself for feeling disheartened.

“But I actually haven’t talked to her in a while now,” Colter added with a small shrug, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Huh, really?”

“Yeah, uh, and when I did, I didn’t exactly tell her I didn’t take her advice, you know? So…”

“Why not?” Russell’s brow furrowed a little more as he analyzed each word, simultaneously realizing why he had been so reluctant to share his life with Colter before – his subconscious had been afraid his alienated little brother would report back to the mothership.

Colter’s lips pursed. “Because I disagree.”

“Ah.”

Colter chewed on his lower lip. “Look, I know you and Dory wanna keep all of this in the past and play family – and trust me, I want that too,” he assured, but his heart was beating fast in his chest. “But I need to know, man. I need to know why she lied about this for twenty years and, you know, did all of this,” he insisted, and yet, Russell could tell he wasn’t done. He might have broken the dam. “She did it to you. I mean, aren’t you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad,” the older Shaw admitted, but there was no fire behind his words.

“Then why are you so calm?”

Amused, Russell chuckled, shrugging. “Probably ‘cause I’ve been dealing with this a lot longer than you, little brother.”

“So, what are we gonna do now?”

“We ain’t gonna do anything,” Russell clarified, his voice stern. He’d die to protect his family, you and the kids, and do anything in his power to keep you out of it, but Colter was a grown-up – a free agent. If he didn’t want to listen, Russell couldn’t force him. “Look, you wanna find out, you go find out. And if you do find something and need help, you call. But I can’t be involved in this,” he explained, his firm expression morphing into something more vulnerable and sincere. “And frankly, I don’t care that much. You, me, Dory, Y/N, the kids – that’s all that matters, trust me. You’re not gonna feel better or more… whole after finding those answers.”

“How do you know? Do you know what really happened?” Colter instantly asked, and Russell knew in that moment, it’d be hopeless. His brother wouldn’t stop till he found it – forever restless.

“No, I told you. I don’t,” Russell repeated, and while he didn’t know everything, he omitted that he knew something.

“What about Y/N?”

Russell froze at the bare mention of your name, his protective instincts kicking in. “Leave her out of this,” he all but snarled.

But Colter didn’t think about stopping. “Did you ever ask her? I mean, she’s CIA. She could probably find out something, right?”

“Yeah, I asked her once, alright? Was a long time ago,” Russell admitted, sighing. The intended lie would stick better if there was some truth to it – you had taught him that.

“C’mon, Russ… And?” Colter impatiently threw his arms up, brow raising higher and higher as he waited for an answer.

“She never found anything,” Russell said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

This time, it wasn’t just an omission. It was a blatant lie.

“I think whatever Dad was involved in – or both of ‘em – was just some activist shit. I don’t think the government cares.” Lie. “We both know he had a mental thing. Paranoid, probably schizophrenic… I mean, Mom used to pump him full of meds sometimes when he got too out of hand.” Truth. He then stole a glance at his little brother and saw the confusion shimmering on his face. Russell scoffed. “You didn’t know that, did you?”

Quietly, Colter shook his head.

“Well, you were a kid,” Russell said and hoped it would curb the blow slightly, although he knew better than that. “He always took something as far back as I can remember. She used to prepare his pills every evening after you and Dory went to bed. But when we moved to the cabin, he started refusing to take them. Said they made him ‘not clear-headed enough.’ Kinda ironic,” he shared and snorted. “When it got too bad, though, she’d still crush ‘em into his food.”

Colter took everything in with a nod but didn’t say anything more.

“You good over there?” Russell checked after a full minute had passed.

“Yeah,” Colter said and even tried to form a reassuring smile before the attempt failed. Instead, he swallowed. “Just a lot, you know? I didn’t know. I mean, I had some idea, but not-… not that.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Russell said, his voice almost a whisper in the silence of the night. “Like I said, you were a kid…”

When Russell finally left the car to sneak back to you, his shoulders felt a little lighter and his heart a little calmer. He might just float through that unlatched window tonight.

The bad news was, though, he might not be able to retire just yet.

Part 5: This Is a Start

Honestly, I should've called this chapter "Heart-to-Heart Part II" 😂 I'll see you for the finale next week, but as you know, it's not the end for them – only just the beginning 😉

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[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

A/N: Welcome back, besties, to KDrama Kaisen! 💅✨ Today’s burning question: why is everyone in love with the reader & WHERE do I apply?! 😭 Like fr. Men are getting their lore dropped like boxer shorts at a frat party, so stay sharp. 👀 Also, Takashi is now officially the community's emotional support pet (or at least the polycule’s). Let me know if you want merch. (not really). Don’t worry — this therapy isn’t ethical, legal, or remotely licensed, but it will be effective (probably). 😌 🛑 Easter egg alert: Notice how Haibara talks 👀.

Previous Chapter 16 (alt ending 2.7) - Placeholder: This Should Have Been Love (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 17 (alt ending 2.8) - Invisible

Your POV

The car ride home was... quiet.

Too quiet. The kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful but dense—thick with unspoken words, tension clinging to the air like humidity before a storm.

Gojo held you like you were something fragile, something breakable. His arms curled around you, hands splayed across the curve of your back, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against your spine. The warmth of his body pressed into yours, his breath ghosting over the top of your head, uneven but steady. His hold wasn’t desperate—not yet—but it was close. He needed this; he needed you in his arms like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers the second he let go.

Despite the heater blaring, you were freezing. The rain had soaked into your skin, settled in your bones, and Gojo’s body was the only thing keeping the cold at bay. He must have been cold, too—his clothes were damp, and every now and then, a shiver ran through him, barely perceptible, but there. He didn’t complain. Didn’t shift away. If anything, he pulled you closer, tucking your head beneath his chin like he was trying to block out the rest of the world.

Nanami’s grip on the steering wheel was tight. Too tight. Knuckles pale under the dim glow of the dashboard. His jaw flexed, then clenched, the only outward sign of the frustration simmering beneath his otherwise unreadable face.

The cabin felt too warm, and still, he reached for the thermostat again. Adjusting. Fiddling. Finding excuses to do something with his hands.

He hadn’t looked back once.

But you could feel him. The weight of his stare burning into you from the rearview mirror, quick glances flickering over the reflection of Gojo’s arms wrapped around you, your body leaning into his. The way Gojo’s fingers curled slightly at your hip, not possessive but present. The way your fingers barely brushed against the fabric of Gojo’s sleeve, the contact featherlight, almost hesitant—like muscle memory more than intention.

Nanami exhaled sharply through his nose. Adjusted the rearview mirror.

Gojo barely acknowledged it.

The motion of the car, the dim glow of streetlights filtering through the rain-speckled windows, the hum of the heater—it all blurred together as you let your weight sink further into Gojo’s chest. You didn’t think. Didn’t speak. Just let exhaustion lull you into something dangerously close to comfort.

Nanami tapped his fingers against the wheel, slow and methodical. His posture remained stiff, shoulders squared, the set of his mouth betraying nothing. But every time the car hit a red light, every time he was forced to pause, his fingers twitched—a silent reminder that he was very much aware.

Gojo hummed under his breath, the vibrations low against your temple. Not a song. Just noise. Just something to fill the space between your pulse and his.

He was waiting.

Nanami was waiting, too.

For what, you didn’t know.

You didn’t ask.

Didn’t care to.

Instead, you leaned back in Gojo’s chest, closed your eyes, and counted down the minutes until you could eat again.

---

By the time the car pulled up to the penthouse building, a headache had already begun to creep in.

And then you saw them.

Two figures sitting on Nanami’s Aston Martin DBS in your garage.

One—tall, heavily built, dark-haired, radiating quiet judgment.

The other—bright-eyed, beaming, the human equivalent of a loaded gun with the safety off.

You exhaled.

How’d you get in my house? This is trespassing. This is an invasion of my privacy. This is freeloading. What do you mean I’m a trillionaire who needs protection, so I should pay? Oh, so now capitalism applies to me? Suddenly, I’m the bourgeoisie? What do you mean this is a tax-deductible expense? This is annoying.

Were the type of questions you’d long stopped asking them.

The second the car stopped, Haibara hopped to his feet.

Too fast. His excitement always came like a sudden impact—like a hammer swung with a little too much force, like a blade that didn’t stop at the intended target. He had that kind of energy—erratic, unchecked, untethered.

“Hey, princess!”

You winced, getting out while Gojo held your arms for support. “Don’t call me that.”

Megumi, still seated on the car, nodded in greeting, hands in his pockets. His voice was dry, unimpressed. “Why are you looking like a wet possum? It didn’t rain today.”

“It rained in the countryside,” Nanami said curtly, parking your Jesko.

Something flickered in Haibara’s expression when he saw Gojo’s hand on your waist—Gojo, who still hadn’t let go of you since pulling you out of the car, his grip on your stomach as he held you pressed-easy, possessive in a way that made something clench in Nanami’s jaw. Haibara schooled his expression back into something casual, grinning wide, but Nanami had seen it.

He barely got out before Haibara latched onto him, an arm slung over his shoulder like they were old friends. “Sorcerer Supreme(ly Clueless) of Dimwits! The Himbo of Hexes! We gotta go kill some people.”

Nanami audibly sighed, running a hand through his still damp hairs, soft blond strands falling gently on his forhead.

You blinked. Gojo still hadn’t let go of your waist. “I’m sorry, what?”

Megumi ignored them, watching you instead. “Do you need a jacket?”

You frowned. “I’m fine.”

Haibara ignored you, already bouncing on his heels. “Got all the intel. Turns out, the people who put the bounty on your lovely wife—” he flashed you a smile, which you did not return, “—are holed up downtown. I say we drop in, kill everyone, and call it a night.”

“What bounty?” Your stomach turned.

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this?”

Haibara’s grin widened. “Why are you still alive?”

For a moment, the tension between them was tangible, something dark curling in the air between them. Megumi didn’t react—he never did, not with things like this—but his gaze flickered toward you, a silent warning.

“Enough,” Gojo cut in before Nanami could actually commit a homicide. His voice, though light, carried weight. “You staying?”

Megumi exhaled. “No.”

You straightened up. “Wait—Megumi?”

The man gave you a look. Something like a silent apology.

“You’re all leaving me here?”

Gojo smiled, too cheerful. “It’s just a little mass murder, sweetheart.”

You stared. “That is not reassuring.”

You had so many questions.

Mainly: Why were they all suddenly collaborating like they’d been a tactical unit since birth?

Since when were Haibara and Megumi capable of coexisting with Gojo and Nanami without someone being hospitalized (or arrested)?

The only logical explanation: the threat was so bad it forced even your chaotic ex-sociopath friends to play nice with your clingy dumbasses.

Which meant you were really screwed.

“Eh, you’ll be fine.” Gojo waved a hand.

Haibara beamed. “I will keep you company,” he announced proudly.

Nanami, who was already battling an existential crisis, sighed deeply. "Are you even strong enough if they ambush us and it’s a trap, given you have bare minimum cursed energy? Practically a grade 4 civilian.”

Haibara scoffed. "Did you forget the day of our heartfelt reunion—which you probably call it—when I was faster than both of you, and you thought I wasn’t even a sorcerer?"

Nanami muttered something under his breath that sounded dangerously close to "I’d rather leave her alone with a rabid dog."

You crossed your arms. “And if I don’t want to be babysat by a sociopath?”

Haibara gasped. “You flatter me!”

Before you could argue further, the men were already moving, splitting off in different directions, the quiet efficiency of it unsettling.

“You should at least change into warm clothes before you go,” you said, softer now.

Gojo leaned down, close—closer than he had any right to be, considering you barely tolerated his presence lately. And yet, he was still there, holding on, like he’d been waiting for an opening.

Now that you’d let him touch you after so long, he wasn’t about to let go.

“We’re dry now. The sooner it’s done, the better,” he murmured, voice low. “But you go and change.”

Your heartbeat stuttered.

“It’s risky, isn’t it?” You said quietly, eyeing him.

Gojo took a slow inhale next to your hair, his fingers twitching like he wanted to tuck a strand behind your ear. He hesitated, barely there, before straightening up, tilting his head, winking. “Don’t wait up.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

Nanami, watching the whole thing, wanted to die.

So this was what it felt like. Months of feeling like a placeholder, of being treated like an obligation, and then suddenly, Gojo walks back in, and you fit like an equation. Gojo—who never let things get boring, who made your world shift, made you laugh, when Nanami had only ever tried to steady it.

Nanami had always known he couldn’t compete with that.

Haibara leaned down, his gaze locking onto yours with that smoldering intensity only dark romance men could pull off. His soft brown wolf-cut curls fell perfectly onto his forehead and around his shoulders, framing his face like he’d just stepped out of some viking tragedy.

Not that you noticed.

Your eyes were too busy glued to Nanami’s retreating figure, his fingers flexing around the car door when they got to Megumi’s car, walking away in the distance like some kind of heartbreak montage.

Then they were gone.

Haibara didn’t even have time to process the fact that you’d never look at him the same way before something brushed against your sweatshirt. A pair of tiny feet scurried over your stomach.

Haibara flinched back like he’d just seen a cockroach, his suave demeanor cracking.

He straightened, running a hand through his perfect curls, biceps flexing.

You turned to Haibara, still beaming like he hadn’t just sent three of the strongest sorcerers in Japan off on a murder spree.

Your stomach growled.

Haibara clapped his hands together, mockingly dramatic. “Ramen?”

You exhaled. “Yeah. Ramen.”

The two of you walked back to your penthouse in comfortable silence. The second you opened the door, a blur of white fur came charging at you, chirping loudly.

“Takahashi,” you sighed, bending down slightly to scoop up the tiny, wriggling menace. The two-month-old albino raccoon nipped at your fingers, his small teeth pressing in but never breaking the skin. His way of saying hello.

Haibara beamed. “There’s my little demon!”

You barely had a second to react before Takahashi lunged out of your arms and latched onto Haibara’s ankle with all the ferocity of a wild animal. Which, technically, he was.

Haibara, unfazed, crouched down and scratched his head. “That’s right, take your anger out on me. I deserve it for abandoning my precious son with these heathens.”

Takahashi chirped in agreement, gnawing harder.

You sighed, excusing the remaining housekeepers who had been watching the kit for you. “Thanks for staying with him.”

They nodded and left, sparing Haibara a concerned glance before heading out.

---

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting at the kitchen table, watching Haibara toss instant noodles into a pot like this was just another night.

“So,” he said, stirring the pot lazily. “How’s life as the world’s richest hostage?”

You rolled your eyes, unable to take your nose off his cooking. Only Haibara could make instant ramen fragrant. “I’m not a hostage.”

“Aren’t you, though?” He grinned, flashing sharp teeth. “Trapped with two men who, if I had my way, would be dead by now?”

You sighed. “They’re not that bad.”

Haibara made a gagging noise, sticking his tongue out.

You smirked. “You hate Nanami so much.”

“I do!” He placed a hand over his heart. “It’s the one thing keeping me going. My motivation to live, love, laugh these days.”

You chuckled.

It was easy, sitting here, listening to Haibara ramble about nonsense, slurping down ramen while a full-scale assassination was happening somewhere in the city.

You leaned back, content—for now.

You had noodles.

---

Haibara’s POV

Somewhere between the third ramen cup and a poorly dubbed King Kong movie Haibara insisted on watching, you had fallen asleep on the couch.

The dim glow of the television flickered across the room, casting shadows on the walls. The volume was low—almost a whisper—because Haibara had turned it down when you fell asleep. He told himself it was so the noise wouldn’t wake you, but really, he just needed silence. Needed space to think.

You looked so peaceful, curled up on the couch, your breathing steady, your hand resting against your stomach. It should’ve been a happy sight, but for Haibara, it was like a knife twisting deep in his chest.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Gojo had touched you. Held you.

And you let him.

Even after knowing Haibara for years, you had always been careful, always hesitant. Even now, he was afraid of touching you without permission. Afraid of the weight of it, the consequences of reaching for something that had never truly been his. But Gojo? Gojo just took and took, and somehow, you let him.

Maybe if Haibara hadn’t left, things would’ve been different.

Maybe you would’ve been with him.

Maybe you wouldn’t be pregnant, wouldn’t be tied down to a life you had never wanted.

He had known—had always known—you never wanted to be a mother. You had said it in passing, in the quiet moments between classes and late-night ramen runs, when the world was too light and nightmares felt distant.

He had never questioned it. Never tried to change your mind.

And yet, here you were.

And he wasn’t.

Haibara exhaled, running a hand down his face.

He thought about the past, about how easily you would listen to him when you never listened to Megumi.

Haibara had always been a manipulator, the kind of person who did things just because they amused him. The kind of person who could kill a man just because they laughed at his joke too loudly.

He wasn’t like Gojo. Or Nanami. They were idiots, but they were good men.

Haibara wasn’t.

He knew that.

So why had he run? Why had he left you behind?

He looked at you now, at the way you had curled into the couch, the way your hand had instinctively rested against your stomach.

It wasn’t about MI6.

He had never cared for the life of a spy—the secrecy, the missions, the danger. To him, it was just another game, a distraction from the truth.

The truth was much simpler.

He had left because you never looked at him the way you looked at Megumi.

As you approached the end of your teenage years, you began spending more time with Megumi. Perhaps it was because he was closer to your age, or maybe it was the way you listened to him, your wide, thoughtful eyes reflecting the weight of his words.

Megumi had always been better for you—someone who was morally intact, a person who wouldn’t lead you down the wrong path.

Unlike Haibara.

He had always felt like an outsider, watching you and Megumi grow closer while he remained on the periphery. You two had practically woven your lives together, with his family branches becoming a backdrop to your shared memories. Haibara felt too far removed to truly belong, as if he were too old, as if he had never been a kid at all.

So he convinced himself that it was only a matter of time before you and Megumi would become a couple, leaving him alone, abandoned by the only family he had left.

So in response, he ran away, retreating into silence on the pretense of not being allowed to talk, distancing himself from both of you.

But that’s not how it turned out.

What Haibara was now realizing was that you never looked at Megumi—or him—the way you looked at Nanami or Gojo. That realization cut deeper than he could have imagined.

You hadn’t forgiven Gojo. Haibara could see it.

But he could also see that Gojo was still in.

And that—more than anything—was something Haibara couldn’t understand.

Sitting in the dim light of the living room, watching you sleep peacefully, he came to a painful understanding.

He had never truly been afraid of you leaving him.

What terrified him was the thought that one day you would wake up and see him for what he really was.

Because no matter how many times he replayed that day in the infirmary in his head, he always came to the same conclusion: if it were him in another universe, he’d be disappointed; he couldn’t have a family with you, sure. But he’d never ask you to go through this cursed pregnancy. And if you didn’t go through with the abortion? He’d sedate you and get you operated on himself. You’d hate him more than anything in the world, but at least you’d be alive.

So yes, Haibara was fucked up.

Megumi? He wouldn’t do that. He’d hate you for putting him through this, but he’d never take away your choice.

Gojo? He’d probably do the same as Megumi, though he’d make a joke out of it to hide how much it actually hurt him.

Nanami? Now, Nanami was trickier.

From the mission logs he had read to the polar opposite praises to his name, this version of Nanami was selfish and morally grayer than concrete. He’d probably hate you too, but he’d never show it. And somehow that was worse in his opinion because he couldn’t predict Nanami with certainty.

And then there was Haibara. Still the worst possible choice.

Just then, a knock at the door shattered the silence.

Haibara blinked, startled, and looked down.

His fingers were in your hair.

He didn’t even remember reaching for you, but there they were—brushing through the strands like it was something natural.

Slowly, he pulled back.

---

Their POV

Gojo walked in first, tossing his keys into the bowl by the door, his white hair sticking in all directions.

He didn’t look at Haibara. His eyes went straight to you, to where you lay curled up on the couch.

Haibara didn’t tease him. Didn’t acknowledge Nanami, who stepped in behind him.

He just exhaled and stood.

“I’ll take cloud save for the night,” he muttered, picking up Takahashi. The tiny albino, warm and half-asleep, chirped softly before snuggling into Haibara’s chest.

Nanami watched him closely.

He didn’t like that look in Haibara’s eyes.

But Gojo was already moving, carefully lifting you off the couch and carrying you into the guest bedroom.

Haibara left without another glance, carrying the sleeping raccoon in his arms.

Gojo was gentle, pressing a soft kiss against your temple before laying you down on the bed, tucking you in with care. He lingered for a moment, brushing a stray hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin

A moment later, he reappeared, now dressed in comfortable sweatpants and a loose shirt, his hair damp from a quick shower.

He didn’t say a word; instead, he laid down on the bed beside you, letting out a soft sigh as he adjusted the blankets around you both.

He coaxed you into his arms, feeling the warmth radiate from your body.

You stirred, your voice barely above a whisper. “Was everything alright?”

He surprisingly did not tease. “Yes, we’re here now. Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he hummed, his voice soothing.

You were too delirious to stay awake for long, and soon you fell back into a slumber, comforted by his long fingers gently massaging your lower back.

Meanwhile, Nanami stood near the rooftop railings, staring at an unlit cigarette in his hand.

But maybe... just maybe... therapy was the first step.

Maybe that was the only way they could begin to mend what they had broken. As he stood there, the self-loathing gnawed at him, a reminder of his own failures. He wished he could be the one to comfort you, to be the one you turned to, but he felt like a ghost in your life, overshadowed by Gojo’s existence and the bond you shared.

---

Your POV

The morning—or technically, afternoon—started with Gojo shaking you awake.

“Hey, wake up. Eat something, then you can go back to sleep,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual but still annoyingly chipper for someone waking you up from much-needed rest.

You squinted at him, bleary and half-conscious. “What time is it?”

“2 PM,” he grinned smugly, like he’d just delivered excellent news.

You stared at him, unimpressed. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

“You had a fever,” he said simply, reaching out to touch your forehead again—only for you to flinch back before his fingers made contact.

The reaction was instant, visceral. Like a cringe memory from high school suddenly sucker-punched you at full force—only this time, it wasn’t some embarrassing moment. It was the image of your own hand moving to hold him last night, only for him to look at you like—

Like that. Like the way he was looking at you now.

Gojo immediately pulled back, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second.

You acted like it didn’t happen, reaching for the coffee cup on the nightstand.

The first sip nearly burned the entire roof of your mouth, but you swallowed it anyway, pretending like nothing was wrong.

Gojo, of course, noticed.

“Too hot, huh?” he teased, lips quirking.

You ignored him. “What was the bounty?”

Something flickered across his face.

“Crispe five hundred billion dollars,” he admitted after a pause. “For you and the babies.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Gojo, meanwhile, didn’t want to keep things from you anymore.

But you let it slide for now, blowing on your coffee for an eternity before taking another sip.

Then you hummed, thoughtful.

“And it’s still up?”

“Yeah. The money was already set up, so even after the auctioneer’s dead, the bounty still stands.”

You glanced around the bed, then reached toward the nightstand—only for Gojo to move first.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“My phone,” you muttered. Then sighed. “Never mind. Haibara probably took it.”

Gojo pulled out his own phone and offered it to you. “Here. Use mine.”

You took it without looking at him. “I have an idea.”

At that, Gojo was intrigued.

“Not sure if it’ll work, but it’s something I’ve done to kill competition before it starts,” you continued. “I don’t know enough about sorcery politics, so you’ll have to decide if it’s viable.”

Gojo nodded. “I’m listening.”

You exhaled, sipping your coffee. “What if we offset the competition?”

“I’m gonna need more detail than that.”

You glanced at him, a little irritated at the dumb puppy expression on his face.

“I mean, if they can’t cancel the bounty and the sum is already set, then we outbid them. Put up an even bigger bounty—but instead of targeting the asset, it’s for protecting the asset.”

Gojo blinked. Then—pure, naïve Gojo logic kicked in.

“Baby,” he said, so sweetly, like you were an innocent child. “I know you see the good in people, but curses and curse users aren’t exactly out here winning Nobel Peace Prizes. They’d rather kill you for a single chicken nugget than save you for more money. Besides, you’re already protected by the strongest.”

You rolled your eyes so hard, they nearly left orbit.

“No, dumbass,” you said, exasperated. “I don’t rely on morality—I don’t gamble. I make calculated deterrents.”

Gojo looked way too amused by your insult.

“We put up enough money to make them hesitate,” you continued. “You think bounty hunters are all die-hard believers in their cause? No. They’re opportunists. And the second they think there’s a chance of losing money to tougher competition, a chance of them getting killed when they try to get to us, they’ll reconsider.”

Gojo considered this, rubbing his chin like he had a single thought behind those eyes.

“How much money are we talking?” he finally asked.

You just smiled.

And that’s when Nanami, passing by the doorway, muttered under his breath—

“This is not going to work.”

By the time Haibara showed up with your now encrypted phones, you’d already explained the plan in full.

And Haibara, being Haibara, sighed so hard it might as well have been a death rattle.

“If you have so much money,” he muttered, dead serious, “give me some.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Why a fucking trillion? You could have increased it by ten dollars and it would have still worked. And I’m pretty sure if you moved that much money at once, someone would notice,” Haibara continued. “A whistleblower would pop up before you could even blink.”

You smirked. “That’s where you come in. I break your leg,” you explained smoothly. “Then offer you the money in a god-awful public apology. How does that sound?”

Haibara gave you a flat look.

You were joking. Mostly.

But before Haibara could retort, Nanami—who had been silently seething in the corner ever since you and Gojo had been too close for his comfort—finally spoke up.

“I have some ideas,” he said, voice completely even, “on how we could move the money discreetly.”

“Oh, Barbie’s accountant specializes in money laundering?” Haibara mocked. “I wouldn’t have guessed it, not behind that Squidward-ass exterior.” He deadpanned.

Nanami ignored him.

By the end of the day, there was an offsetting bounty opposite to the murder one.

---

Once Haibara left, you moved on to working the shoot since you had nothing to do until Haibara returned.

You wanted to do everything yourself—set up the angles, adjust the lighting, perfect the frame—but being six months pregnant with twins was no joke.

Your body didn’t move the way it used to. Just standing for too long made your back ache. When you tried to squat for a lower angle, Gojo’s hand was immediately at your waist, steadying you before you could even protest.

“Don’t push yourself,” he said, firm but not scolding. His grip lingered, just a second longer than necessary, before he turned your chin up to look into your eyes. “Tell me what you need.” He rubbed your cheek.

You swallowed.

Gojo, surprisingly, was eager to help, even if he was absolutely useless with cameras.

“Okay, okay, so do I just press this button?”

You whipped around just in time to see him nearly smudge the lens with his disastrous grip.

“No!” you panicked, reaching out instinctively to swat his hand away. “God, don’t touch it like that.”

Gojo grinned but followed your instructions, setting up the tripod and adjusting the frame under your guidance.

He didn’t know much about photography, but he was really trying, following your instructions to the letter, even when he didn’t fully understand them. He handled your equipment with surprising care, adjusting lights and backdrops under your direction—though every few minutes, he’d pause and tilt his head, genuinely fascinated by how much thought went into a single frame.

Nanami listened carefully as you explained lighting adjustments to Gojo, quietly fixing what needed to be fixed without question. Unlike Gojo, Nanami thought he didn’t need to be micromanaged—so if you just told him what needed to be done, he’d do it perfectly.

Gojo, holding a reflector panel at an awkward angle, watched as you adjusted your camera settings, testing the lighting against your skin. He hesitated for a moment before asking, “Would you—uh… would you let me take a photo with you?”

You glanced up from your lens.

Gojo was serious.

You knew he meant it—not as some half-assed joke, not as a play for attention. He wanted to be part of this, part of something you had created.

You didn’t say anything.

Nanami was seething.

He hadn’t said anything yet, but you could feel it, radiating from where he stood, arms crossed, watching the two of you work without acknowledging his presence.

His entire being was stiff with frustration—because you still weren’t talking to him.

Because Gojo was helping, and he wasn’t.

Because he wanted to be useful to you, too.

By the time everything was set up, you were exhausted. Your body ached, and your eyelids felt heavy. “I’ll go change,” you said.

Gojo stayed behind to not let Takahashi destroy all the backdrops because he was trying to hide in them.

The silk of your gown clung to your body like it had been painted on, black ink poured over your skin, molding to every curve, every sharp edge softened by pregnancy. The fabric stretched over the swell of your stomach, emphasizing rather than concealing, the weight of two lives pressing against your ribs. The veil—dark, hand-embroidered—cascaded over your face, rendering your reflection almost unrecognizable. A ghost of a woman. A revenant caught between the past and whatever bleak future awaited.

Except—

Your eyeliner was a disaster.

Your hands kept shaking just enough to mess it up, the fine lines smudging into your skin. You exhaled sharply, steadying your wrist, trying again—

It smeared.

Your jaw clenched.

Then—without looking—you held out the eyeliner.

He stepped forward instantly, taking the eyeliner from your fingers; his movements were calm, precise, and controlled.

Gojo leaned against the vanity, his phone in hand.

But absolutely not using it.

He was watching—pretending not to, but watching. His gaze was heavy, dragging over your lips as you pressed them together, smoothing out the color.

You refused to acknowledge him.

Nanami’s thumb pressed beneath your jaw, firm, grounding, tilting your face just enough to angle you where he needed. His grip was firm, not delicate—masculine in a way that felt intentional. The warmth of his body near yours made something curl low in your stomach, and you forced yourself to focus.

He was close enough that his cologne filled your senses—woodsy, clean, grounding. It took effort not to lean into it.

And it didn’t help that ever since both of them had been suspended, they’d changed.

At first, they lost weight, sharp edges worn down by exhaustion. But now—

Now, they were bulking. Or working out less. You weren’t sure. But it made Nanami’s shoulders broader, his arms heavier beneath rolled-up sleeves, his form solid in a way that made you want to rest against him just to see if he’d let you. And Gojo—

Gojo, with his jawline softened just enough to look boyish again, his absurdly long lashes framing eyes that saw too much, lips that curled like he knew things you didn’t—he made you want to squish his cheeks. It was unfair.

It did things to you.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, forcing yourself to focus.

Nanami traced the line of your eye with the kind of patience that should be illegal. His steady fingers, the way he barely blinked—

You blurted out before thinking, “Why have you always been good at eyeliner? Is it because of your technique?”

Gojo lost it.

A sharp snort, echoing through the room. He doubled over, nearly wheezing.

Nanami’s jaw tightened. His grip on your chin tensed before he forced himself to breathe through his nose.

Gojo, wiping at his eyes, gasped, “Oh my God, it’s because in college he had an emo phase, babe.”

“Shut up.” Nanami’s voice was even, but his eye twitched.

Gojo grinned, absolutely feral.

Nanami’s silence was damning.

You stared. The mental image of Nanami Kento in heavy black eyeliner, brooding in the back of a classroom, listening to Radiohead, was—

Interesting.

But you let it go.

---

Once the shoot began, it was awkward at first.

Not because you didn’t know how to pose—you’d done this before, and you were good at it—but because both Gojo and Nanami didn’t know if you’d actually let them be in the pictures with you.

They lingered just outside the frame, watching. Waiting.

You kicked both of them out.

After closing the door, you set the final adjustments on your camera, lining up the perfect frame. Then, when you picked up the remote for the camera, it wasn’t working. You sighed and opened the door.

“I got it,” Gojo said, strolling in and pretending like he hadn’t destroyed it, grinning like a man who absolutely did not have it.

You narrowed your eyes. “You don’t even know what aperture means.”

“Vibes and prayers.”

Nanami scoffed, arms crossed, strolling in behind Gojo and standing off to the side with his ever-present air of disapproval. “Give it back, Gojo. She should be the one handling it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you a photography expert now?” Gojo gestured broadly. “Have you been secretly moonlighting as a wedding photographer?”

Nanami’s glare was flat. “At least I know how to follow instructions.”

“I have six eyes; I can see more colors, so I’ll be better at it,” Gojo pouted.

“That’s not how it works,” Nanami muttered, then gave up when you handed Gojo the camera and explained to him what you were looking for and how to take pictures while you made him stand in your place and gave him the pre-adjusted settings. Now all he had to do was keep you in frame and press a button.

He didn’t. Nanami spent the next five minutes hovering over Gojo’s shoulder, micromanaging everything, despite knowing nothing about photography.

“No, the angle’s wrong—”

“The shutter speed—”

“You’re underexposing the background—”

“Nanamin, shut up,” Gojo groaned, adjusting the camera, deliberately changing the settings in a way he knew would annoy Nanami.

You watched, chin propped on your arm, as Gojo took the first four shots. They were… fine. The composition was slightly off, the lighting uneven, but nothing you couldn’t fix in editing.

Then, on the fifth shot, something changed.

The next click of the shutter was perfect.

And then the next.

And the next.

Each one was flawlessly framed, capturing the exact aesthetic you wanted.

You gritted your teeth.

This always happened. Gojo fumbled his way through something new for exactly five minutes before mastering it completely.

“I hate you,” you muttered, staring at the photos.

Gojo smirked, eyes glinting. “Canonically perfect husband, remember?”

Nanami, watching this entire exchange with mounting irritation, rolled his eyes.

“Great. Now we’ll never hear the end of it.”

You wouldn’t. Gojo was insufferable for the next ten minutes, throwing around photography terms like he’d been shooting for decades, narrating every adjustment he made just to annoy Nanami.

“Oh wow, look at that shallow depth of field.”

“See how I captured the chiaroscuro here? Really makes the contrast pop.”

“You can’t touch my rule of thirds’ accuracy.”

Then he threw in the dreaded line before people went broke and became jobless photographers. “I think I have a natural gift.”

Nanami, visibly restraining himself, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If you say ‘chiaroscuro’ one more time, I’m going to beat you with the tripod.”

Gojo winked. “I’ll just take a picture of you doing it as evidence.”

Nanami inhaled deeply, as if contemplating the value of patience.

Gojo, who had been directing you like a film noir heroine for the past forty-five minutes, finally stopped and cleared his throat.

“Would you... let us take some with you? I mean, to hang in our jail cells.”

Nanami didn’t say anything, but the way he glanced away made it clear that he was wondering the same thing.

You exhaled, already knowing you’d regret this.

“Fine. Get in.”

Gojo moved first.

He always did.

He stepped into the frame, slipping behind you, his touch settling at the small of your back like it belonged there. Thoughtless, practiced, easy. He barely hesitated before his thumb brushed along your spine—just once, slow, deliberate. A lingering motion, like tracing something precious. A habit.

Nanami hesitated.

For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t step forward at all. His hands flexed at his sides, tension running through the solid frame of his body, his breath measured, controlled. But then, just as carefully, he stepped into position, his palm finding the curve of your waist, fingers grounding.

You did not react.

The three of you stood together, the air between you shifting, thick with something unspoken. Something old and unresolved.

Gojo adjusted his grip, fingers skimming your hip. Then he turned his head, just slightly, tilting—

Nanami followed, his breath a faint whisper against your temple—

The camera flashed.

The weight of history settled between you, suffocating.

The frame captured everything.

Gojo was the first to move, immediately jumping up to check the tripod, his head tilting, squinting at the display. He made a face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice steady. Controlled. Not yours.

Gojo turned, propping the camera back in place. “It’s fine. If we’re trying to cosplay a family of ghosts.”

He ran back before you could tell him to explain.

Before you could take position again, he wrapped himself around you from behind, arms circling you with a familiarity that made your throat tighten. Nanami stiffened beside you, exhaling through his nose. He stepped closer, placing a single arm around Gojo, the movement awkward, restrained.

But Gojo was focused on you.

He was careful—so fucking careful—trying his best not to move his arms too much, not to let his fingers brush against your chest where the weight of pregnancy had already made you more sensitive and this inky black dress was doing things to your breasts even in Gojo’s peripheral vision. But his restraint only made it worse, the tension unbearable. Every shift of his fingers sent heat creeping up your spine.

Then his hands moved too suddenly—startling you—and you leaned into him before you could catch yourself.

Your palm found his jaw, and you smiled.

It was instinct. Muscle memory. The tilt of his head, the way he looked down at you, his lashes casting shadows over his pale skin—

You hated how easy it was.

Gojo’s lips parted, a slow breath escaping next to your ear.

Nanami’s grip on Gojo’s waist turned to iron.

And yet—Gojo didn’t pull away.

Neither did you.

His thumb brushed along the curve of your cheek, barely there, as if testing. As if waiting for you to pull away first.

But you didn’t.

Instead, your fingers tightened against his jaw, just for a second. A hesitation. A betrayal of something you refused to name.

He lifted your veil while his other hand drifted, careful, precise, ghosting over your hip—

And Nanami felt it.

He felt the shift, the weight of something slipping from his grasp. The invisible thread he had been holding between his fingers—tension stretched thin over the past few months, unraveling in real-time.

His jaw tightened.

The camera flashed again.

This was a mistake.

But Gojo’s grip didn’t loosen, and your hand didn’t fall away, and Nanami knew—knew—that you were lying to yourself.

The next shot should have been the last one.

Gojo tilted your face up, fingers cradling your chin, his lips just—there—hovering dangerously close. Your breath hitched. You felt him smile.

Then—

The door swung open.

“Hey—”

Shoko.

Megumi.

Haibara.

“Look who I found outside. By the way, your housekeeping let us in,” Shoko announced, voice dry, like she hadn’t just walked into the worst possible moment in human history.

Nanami had never been more grateful for an interruption.

The tension shattered instantly. Gojo clenched his jaw, stepping back like someone had pressed a gun to his head. You blinked, face impassive, as if nothing had happened. The moment folded into itself, buried under layers of pretense.

Then Haibara waltzed in like he hadn’t just walked into a funeral, grinning too smugly.

Something barely there in his eyes, as he physically inserted himself and Megumi between Gojo and Nanami—the shift in positioning wasn’t accidental.

He shoved them aside.

And they let him.

“What’s this? You finally embracing the Goth Mommy aesthetics?” Haibara’s grin was too wide.

You scowled.

And then—to everyone’s horror—you laughed.

It was a sharp, brief sound, barely more than an exhale. But it was real.

Nanami and Gojo both stiffened. Haibara, sensing that he had done the impossible, leaned into it.

He reached up, plucked the veil off your head, and threw it over his own face, covering himself like a grieving widow.

Your giggles escalated.

Nanami’s hands curled into fists at his sides. Gojo’s cursed energy flickered like a snuffed-out flame, sharp and unpredictable. They were one second away from cremating Haibara on the spot. But they didn’t. Because—

Because you were laughing.

And you hadn’t laughed like that in months.

Haibara flourished a hand. “Now, photoboy,” he said, turning to Gojo, voice light but edged. “Please take a picture of the people who would still stick around after you both—” he gestured to the people beside you—him and Megumi, standing close enough to block any lingering looks from either man, and Takahashi, who Megumi picked up in his arms, “—are off dropping soaps in jail.”

The words hit their mark exactly the way he intended.

Gojo went very, very still.

“That’s rude, Haibara.” You said, frowning.

Haibara waved you off, “I’m only joking.”

You were muttering something at Haibara now.

Gojo moved mechanically, lifting the camera off the tripod and adjusting the angle. The screen flickered. The camera clicked.

Nanami and Shoko stood in the corner, whispering.

And Megumi—

Megumi wasn’t watching the camera.

He wasn’t watching Gojo.

He was watching you.

And whatever he saw there made his grip tighten.

Because it didn’t matter that you were laughing now.

It didn’t matter that Haibara had successfully defused the tension.

It didn’t matter that Gojo and Nanami were standing just feet away, frozen in place.

It didn’t matter because Megumi knew.

Megumi was seething.

His hands curled into fists, jaw locked, his eyes like an open wound. He barely lasted a second before he handed Takahashi to you, turned on his heel, and strode out. “I have to check the security around the building.”

And he was gone before you could get another word in.

The second Megumi stepped out of the penthouse, the walls felt too close.

The air in the hallway sat heavy, thick with the remnants of whatever that had been inside. His pulse climbed fast, rattling beneath his skin, a dull thud echoing in his ears like the slow, measured knock of a death omen.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, thumb hovering over Haibara’s contact.

I have to check the security around the building.

A pretense.

A lie.

He’d just finished doing that before coming to you.

He didn’t need to check it.

He needed to get his head fucking straight.

His fingers twitched, locking the screen before he could press dial. He flexed them, curled them into his palm, then flexed them again, like he could physically force the tension out of his muscles. The hallway was quiet—too quiet. No distractions. Just his thoughts, loud and unrelenting.

You’re losing her. Again.

His jaw locked.

Megumi sucked in a slow breath, rolling his shoulders back. He focused on something normal—the flickering overhead light, the faint buzz of the elevator at the end of the hall, the coolness of his own pulse against his wrist as he pressed his fingers there, counting the beats. A grounding trick from years ago.

Useless.

The doors to the penthouse stayed shut behind him, but he could still see it. The way Gojo had tilted your face up—his hands, his mouth, that fucking look in his eyes. The way you had let it happen. The way you hadn’t pulled away.

He dragged a palm down his face, exhaling hard through his nose.

The worst part wasn’t Gojo. It wasn’t even Nanami.

It was you.

Your expression, the careful way you pretended like none of it had happened.

Because Megumi knew you. He knew you better than anyone in the world. Haibara did too, but who was to say for sure underneath all the unhinged things he did throughout the day.

But Megumi knew every tell, every slight shift in your breathing, every microexpression that meant you were feeling something too much and burying it alive.

And that—more than anything else—was what sent his pulse skidding into dangerous territory.

He braced himself against the wall with one arm, the muscle in his forearm twitching. Sweat slicked the back of his neck, just enough to be wrong. His vision narrowed, edges slightly too sharp, like his body had already decided fight-or-flight before his brain caught up.

This wasn’t happening.

Not again.

Not with them.

His other hand gripped the phone so tight he felt the casing creak.

The elevator dinged. A door opened somewhere down the hall.

Megumi straightened, shaking it off like an animal shaking water from its coat. He rolled his neck, breathed in slow, controlled, shoving the static back into a box deep in his ribs.

It wasn’t panic. It wasn’t anxiety.

It was anger.

Yes. That was easier to stomach.

By the time he walked back to his and Haibara’s penhouse, the only sign anything had been wrong was the fact that he didn’t say a single word when Haibara asked him where he’d run off to.

Not like Haibara didn’t know or wouldn't have done the same. But Haibara was better at controlling his emotions, while Megumi just grew quite until he had a panic attack, which weren’t frequent but just enough to make him hate himself.

Shoko, standing behind you, barely waited before sticking out her fist for a high-five towards Gojo.

Gojo and Nanami glared at her.

---

Shoko’s POV

After you changed and Shoko had stolen more of your blood under the guise of a “routine checkup,” you sighed, rubbing at the faint ache in your arm.

“We are not back together.” Your voice was steady, but there was something distant about it, like you were still convincing yourself. You exhaled. “But they’re very hard to ignore.”

Shoko smirked as she coiled the small blood pressure monitor cables. “That they are.”

She pulled up a chair, studying you with her usual lazy sharpness. The moment stretched, comfortable in a way only Shoko could make it.

Then she got to the point. “I have a therapist.”

“She’s an ex-sorcerer,” Shoko explained. “A little underground, but she’s good at what she does. That is—if you really want to try.”

You rolled a small medical vial between your fingers, watching how the dim light refracted through the glass.

“I don’t know.” The words came out softer than you intended. “I don’t even know if it can be fixed.”

Takahashi was gnawing on Shoko’s stethoscope. You pulled it away absentmindedly, letting him scurry off in search of something else to ruin.

Shoko was still watching you.

“I mean,” she stretched, cracking her neck, “just let me know. She helps with separations too.” A grin. “Like, if you wanna reverse-psychology them into leaving you alone with no alimony or child custody—”

“No.” Your answer wasn’t quick. “I’ll give it a chance.”

Shoko hummed, waiting.

“Just for my sanity’s sake,” you clarified. “But I’m not putting all my eggs in that basket.”

“I think it’s a little late for that.” Shoko grinned against her coffee cup, nodding toward your ever-expanding stomach.

You smiled lowly.

“And you don’t have mania. Don’t let all that get to you. They are not licensed doctors.” Shoko hummed, sipping.

You let out a breath, you didn’t know you were holding.

---

True to their words, the next day, you were now sitting in a marriage therapists office, Dr. Maya.

Couples glared at each other from across the room, passive-aggressively sipping bad coffee. One woman muttered obscenities at her husband under her breath, while another man read a self-help book titled So Your Wife Hates You and It’s Probably Your Fault.

And in the middle of it all, you sat between your two husbands, fidgeting, exhausted, and wondering why the hell you had agreed to this.

Gojo had latched onto you like a sentient baby carrier, pressing you so tightly against him that anyone walking by would think you were his emotional support wife.

Nanami, on the other hand, sat rigidly beside you, stealing glances every few seconds like he was expecting you to bolt.

The room judged you.

The other couples were theorizing.

You could practically hear their thoughts.

"Poor woman. She must have cheated on the serious one with the crazy one."

"God, he's making her come to therapy while pregnant? This is proof men ain't shit."

"Wait, is this some kind of polyamory disaster? Are they opening the relationship??"

“Maybe we aren’t in such a bad place, Braden. It could have been worse.”

A woman actually shamed Gojo out loud, huffing as she walked past. “You should be ashamed of yourself, dragging your pregnant wife to therapy. You failed her.”

Gojo’s jaw dropped. He turned to you, betrayed. “Sweets, do something; I’m catching strays here.”

“I agree with her.”

Nanami barely concealed a smirk.

And then—your names were called.

You entered the office to find Dr. Maya sitting behind her desk, phone to her ear.

"Yes, Shoko, they’re here," she said flatly.

A pause.

"What defines ‘properly’?"

Another pause.

"Yes, I'm properly dressed—" she glanced down at her bright pink Crocs, sighed, and then promptly ended the call.

Then, without acknowledging the men, she immediately shook your hand, like this was a reverse patriarchal society and you were the only important figure in the room.

You took your seat first, arms crossed, leg bouncing furiously.

Gojo slouched into his chair with all the arrogance of a man who thought therapy was beneath him but was secretly terrified of abandonment.

Nanami sat next to him, hands clasped, jaw tight, expression grim—like a man accepting his own funeral.

Maya, meanwhile, clicked her pen shut and stared at the three of you with the gravitas of a divine scholar witnessing historical tragedy.

"Alright," she drawled, glancing at her notes. "Why are we here?"

"I want a divorce," you said flatly.

Gojo made a strangled sound. Nanami exhaled through his nose.

Maya barely blinked. “Fantastic. Now tell me why.”

You inhaled deeply, preparing your monologue.

“They—” you jabbed a finger at your husbands “—spent months fucking each other raw, whispering sweet nothings, and doing whatever gay honeymoon phase nonsense they were up to while completely failing to notice that I was pregnant.”

Gojo looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. Nanami did not blink.

“I found out alone,” you continued. “I went to my first ultrasound alone. They didn’t even realize I was carrying their children until I ran away and they dragged me back.”

Gojo rubbed the back of his neck, visibly searching for an escape route. “Okay, but in our defense—”

"There is no defense," you cut in.

Nanami adjusted his coat like this was a business negotiation. “It was an oversight.”

"An oversight?" you repeated, incredulous.

Gojo immediately tried to recover, leaning forward, putting on his charm voice. "Listen, babe, we—"

"You do not get to ‘babe’ me right now," you snapped.

Maya, meanwhile, watched with mild amusement, like this was a gladiator match and she was here purely for entertainment.

“So,” she mused, scribbling something down, “emotional neglect, poor communication, unresolved resentment. Go on.”

You exhaled sharply. “They knew I existed, but they acted like I was a fun third option instead of a wife. I was going through one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, and neither of them noticed because they were too busy sucking face and pretending they were the only two people in this marriage.”

Gojo opened his mouth to retort—then hesitated. His eyes flicked to Nanami, who looked like he was physically holding back an aneurysm.

Maya hummed, bored but intrigued. "Okay, and why didn’t you tell them earlier?"

Your jaw clenched. "Because I shouldn’t have to."

Nanami let out a long, suffering sigh. "You should’ve."

Your glare could have burned a hole through solid steel. "Oh, I’m so sorry for assuming my husbands—who have never let me so much as sneeze without hovering—would notice when their wife was pregnant with their children."

Gojo muttered under his breath, "When you put it like that, it sounds really bad."

"It is really bad, you moron," you shot back.

Maya tossed her notebook onto the desk, sighing. "This is a mess."

Then, without missing a beat, she turned to Gojo. "I assume you’re the problem?"

Gojo’s offense was instant. “Wow. Incredible. Haven’t even started and you’re already playing favorites?”

Nanami barely suppressed a smirk.

Maya leaned forward, elbow on her desk, chin resting on her palm. “I don’t need to ‘start’ to diagnose you as the issue. You have the energy of a man who has never been held accountable for anything in his life.”

Gojo looked personally victimized. “Excuse me, I have suffered.”

Maya clicked her tongue. “Did you suffer, or did you just face consequences for your own actions?”

Nanami actually choked on air.

Gojo’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Are you even a real therapist?”

Maya gestured vaguely to her degree on the wall. “I passed the exam.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re a therapist—”

"That’s literally what it means."

Gojo turned to Nanami, betrayed. “Are you just gonna sit there and let her talk to me like this?”

Nanami didn’t even look up. “This is the best therapy session I’ve ever attended.”

Maya sighed. “Okay, let’s try this again. Nanami, why do you want to fix this marriage?”

Nanami, after a brief pause, answered simply:

“Because I don’t want to lose her.”

Gojo’s jaw tensed. Your throat tightened.

Maya hummed, finally satisfied. “Okay. Good. That’s something.”

She turned to you. 

“Honestly, I don't know why I'm here but Shoko told me there'd be cake.” You sighed.

“Oh that's a lie we tell children to get them to come here.” She told you. 

Then, she turned back to Gojo.

“Your turn.”

Gojo stared at her.

Then at you.

Maya leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "Look, normally I’d say we could work through this, but I’m going to be real with you. You don’t need couples therapy. You need individual therapy. All of you. Separately."

There was a beat of silence.

"Wait," Gojo said slowly, "are you saying we’re too fucked up for couples therapy?"

"Yes," Maya said without hesitation. "One hundred percent. You three are a walking disaster. You need to get your own shit together before you can even think about fixing this mess. I mean, look at you—" She gestured at Gojo. "Emotionally stunted man-child with abandonment issues."

"Wow," Gojo murmured. "Harsh."

She turned to Nanami. "Too serious, too literal. Overworked, repressed, and chronically disappointed in humanity."

Nanami didn’t deny it.

Maya tapped her chewed-up pen against the desk, staring at the three of you like a scientist observing the results of an experiment gone horribly wrong.

Then, she pointed directly at you.

"And you? Massive avoidance tendencies. Instead of confronting problems, you vanish like a dad going out for cigarettes. You literally ghosted your husbands while pregnant out of pure spite."

You blinked. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

Gojo snorted. Nanami massaged his temples.

Maya ignored both of them.

“Consequences have actions,” you added, confidently.

Then, immediately grimaced. That was not how that phrase worked.

Gojo perked up. “Hey, that’s what I sa—”

“Shut up,” you snapped.

Maya exhaled loudly, reclining so far in her chair it creaked under her weight. “Alright. My professional diagnosis is that you’re all a train wreck.”

She sat up.

“Like, genuinely, the most disastrous case I’ve ever seen."

Gojo beamed. “Aww, you really think we’re the wors—”

She cut him off. “You three should not be in the same room until you figure your own shit out.”

Then, without missing a beat, she grabbed her phone and called her assistant.

“Kick out the rest of my patients. These ones are too entertaining.”

Nanami visibly flinched. Gojo turned pale.

Then, Maya hung up and turned back to you.

“Separate therapy. Right now.” She waved a hand lazily. “Whoever the hell is Nanami—you’re up first.”

Gojo started sweating bullets. “D-Don’t we have to go home and reschedule our appointment?”

Maya narrowed her eyes. “Why? Do any of you actually have jobs to go to?”

Silence.

All three of you, defeated, shuffled out of the room like scolded children.

Gojo looked at Nanami.

Nanami looked at you.

You all turned back to Maya.

"Wait," Gojo said, genuinely concerned, "so does this mean the divorce is still on the table?"

Maya threw her entire pen at his head, then continued like nothing had happened, “And no type of physical intimacy for the next two months. I have seen far too many cheating couples end up having sex and regretting everything.”

The three of you walked away like she wasn’t talking to you.

---

Session One: Nanami Kento vs. His Own Guilt

Maya had never seen a man look so much like he wanted to disappear into the wallpaper.

Nanami Kento sat stiffly on the couch, posture perfect, hands clasped, gaze cold and distant—exuding all the enthusiasm of a man about to be executed.

Maya, meanwhile, perched on her chair like a gremlin high on caffeine, one leg bouncing, eyes glinting with predatory excitement.

"Alright, salaryman,” she chirped, clicking her pen. “Let’s get into it. What’s eating you?"

Nanami inhaled slowly through his nose. "I… took Satoru from his best friend."

Maya blinked. “Okay. Didn’t expect you to jump straight into Catholic guilt, but I’m paid to hear it.”

Nanami didn’t react.

Maya tapped her pen against her notebook. “Who’s this best friend?”

Nanami hesitated before answering. “Geto Suguru.”

“Never heard of him,” Maya said cheerfully. “Explain.”

Nanami hesitated again, but then—perhaps because he had been holding this in for years—he spoke.

He told her about the golden years, about Satoru and Suguru moving like twin stars through the sorcerer world. About how they were supposed to be inseparable. And then he told her about the fall. About how Suguru walked away, about the atrocities he committed, about how Satoru was the one who had to put him down.

Nanami’s jaw clenched. “Satoru came to me right after. And I—” He swallowed. “I was there.”

“For what?” Maya tilted her head.

“For everything that came after,” Nanami admitted. “The grieving. The distraction. The—” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “The relationship.”

Maya narrowed her eyes.

"Ah," she said, understanding dawning.

Then, she grinned.

"So, what—you think you were his rebound?"

Nanami exhaled slowly through his nose, shoulder tense.

Maya leaned forward, grinning wider.

"Interesting," she purred. "And how long have you been coping with this by working yourself into an early grave?"

Nanami’s eye twitched.

“Would you like an exact number of overtime hours?” he deadpanned.

Maya threw her notebook on the desk.

"Nanami," she said seriously, "what if I told you that’s not normal?"

Nanami deadpanned, voice flat, "I’d be shocked."

Maya slapped her knees, laughing. "Oh my God, I love you guys. You’re all so deeply maladjusted."

Nanami looked at her blankly. "Is that your professional opinion?"

Maya smirked. “My professional opinion is that you should be a case study in what happens when you repress your feelings for too long.”

Nanami exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I should have known this wasn’t going to be real therapy."

Maya beamed. “Oh, this is therapy.”

Then, without breaking eye contact, she reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of vodka.

Nanami stared.

Maya popped the cap open.

Nanami blinked slowly. “Is this legal?”

Maya took a massive sip.

Then, exhaling, she smacked her lips.

“I don’t know, Nanami,” she mused.

Then, grinning, she added, "Do you?"

Nanami frowned.

Maya smiled—a little too shark-like, a little too much like a predator enjoying the taste of blood in the water.

“That’s cute,” she said.

Nanami frowned. “I don’t see what’s amusing.”

Maya twirled her pen between her fingers, tilting her head. “You genuinely believe you stole Gojo Satoru from a man who abandoned him?”

Nanami’s frown deepened. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple,” she countered immediately. “Geto left. And whatever they had? It ended the moment he chose something else. You didn’t take anything. You were just there when Satoru had no one left.”

She leaned forward, elbows on the desk.

“Unless, of course, you think he should’ve been alone?”

Nanami looked away. “…Of course not.”

“Then shut up and stop being a martyr,” she said, waving a hand lazily. “Not everything is a Greek tragedy.”

Nanami sighed, rubbing his temple. “…I still don’t know how to fix things with her.”

Maya perked up immediately, like she had been waiting for this exact moment to flex her terrible methods.

“Well, first of all,” she said, “you and Gojo need to stop suffocating her as a unit. I mean, come on, do you really think she wants to be around both of you at the same time when you’ve done nothing but remind her of how excluded she was?”

Nanami remained silent.

Maya smirked. “Here’s my magical solution.”

She leaned in conspiratorially.

“You both avoid each other for now.”

Nanami’s brow twitched. “…What?”

“You get her for half the week. He gets her for half the week. No crossing over, no sudden tag-team emotional ambushes.” She gestured between them. “Keep your mess separate.”

Nanami looked skeptical.

“…And you think this will work?”

Maya grinned.

“Trust the process, salaryman.”

Nanami exhaled slowly through his nose. “I’ll consider it.”

Maya beamed.

“That’s therapist speak, for I have no other options, so I’ll take it,” she said brightly.

Then, clapping her hands together—

“Next!”

---

Session Two: Gojo Satoru vs. The Most Unhinged Therapist Known to Man

Gojo walked into the therapist’s office like it was a movie premiere—sunglasses inside, oversized hoodie hanging off his frame, a full bag of snacks in hand.

Maya took one look at him and decided this man was going to be her greatest enemy.

"Alright, doctor," Gojo drawled, flopping onto the couch like a Victorian woman fainting. “Fix me.”

Maya squinted at him. “I’d have to kill you and rebuild you from scratch.”

She flipped open her notebook with an alcoholic burp. “What’s on your mind?”

Gojo stretched like a cat, tossing a chip into his mouth. “Well, I was thinking about Digimon.”

Maya stared at him. “…Come again?”

“You know Digimon, right?” Gojo propped himself up on his elbow, grinning. “Like, if I had to compare myself to one, I’d probably be Omnimon, but part of me feels like—”

“Oh my god.” Maya rubbed her temples. “This is what you’re opening with?”

Gojo ignored her and kept rambling.

For twenty full minutes, he went on about Digimon evolution trees, power scaling, lore accuracy, and why Adventure 01 had superior storytelling compared to Frontier.

Maya just sat there.

Expression neutral.

Watching him the way a cat watches a mouse who thinks it’s safe.

She did not interrupt. She did not react.

She waited.

And then—when he finally ran out of steam—she slowly leaned forward, reached under her desk, and pulled something out.

A pristine Digimon card binder.

Gojo sat up so fast you’d think she had electrocuted him. “No way.”

Maya smirked, flipping it open. “First edition, holographic cards.”

Gojo was already halfway across the table. “Is that a BlackWarGreymon?!”

“Limited release,” she said smugly.

Gojo gasped. “Please trade with me.”

Maya snorted. “No. Now, why did you really come here?”

Gojo blinked, still distracted. “What?”

“You’re deflecting,” she said, flipping another page. “People who are fine don’t spend twenty minutes talking about Digimon instead of their feelings.”

Gojo’s jaw tensed. For a split second.

Then, he shrugged. “I just… like Digimon.”

“Yeah,” she said. “And I just like bullshit.”

Gojo’s smirk faltered.

Maya turned another page. “You ran straight to Nanami after something.” Her tone was casual, too casual. “What was it?”

Gojo looked away. “…Nothing.”

“Liar,” she sang. “What was it?”

A long silence.

Then—

“…I had to kill him.”

Maya stopped flipping the pages.

"Kill who?"

Gojo’s fingers dug into his pants. His posture—previously lazy, careless, unconcerned—was suddenly rigid.

"Geto."

The room went still.

Maya watched him carefully. Her usual chaotic energy dimmed, just slightly.

“…That was your best friend, wasn’t it?”

Gojo let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah.”

Maya leaned back, stretching her arms behind her head. “And you ran straight to Nanami after?”

Gojo exhaled, rubbing his face. “I thought he’d understand. We’d both lost people. We’d both had to… make choices.”

Maya studied him for a beat.

Then—cheerfully—

“So instead of grieving, you attached yourself to the next person who made you feel less alone.”

Gojo was silent.

Maya smirked. “And that’s why you didn’t notice your wife was pregnant.”

Gojo groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Fuck.”

“Yep,” she said, popping the ‘p.’

After a long pause, Gojo asked, “What now?”

Maya’s grin returned.

"Magical solution time."

Gojo sighed. "This is gonna be dumb, isn't it?"

“Oh, incredibly,” she confirmed.

She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at him.

"You and Nanami are banned from existing in the same space when it comes to her."

Gojo squinted. “What.”

“You get her half the week. Nanami gets her half the week. No overlapping, no acting like you two are a packaged deal.”

Gojo stared. “You’re trying to separate us.”

“I’m trying to get her to not murder you both.”

Gojo blinked. "And... this will fix everything?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” she said cheerfully. “But it’ll slow the bleeding.”

Gojo sighed. “I guess that’s better than nothing.”

“That’s the spirit,” Maya said, clapping her hands together.

Then, without hesitation, she threw a marker at his head.

Gojo dodged. “What the hell?!”

“You talk too much. Now get out. I’m very excited for my next patient.” She finished, taking another sip from a vodka bottle she’d pulled out from under the table.

Gojo yelled, standing up. “I’m calling Shoko. You are not a licensed therapist.”

Maya smirked.

“Be my guest.”

Five minutes later, Gojo stood outside the office, phone pressed to his ear, eyebrows furrowed.

"Shoko," he said, dead serious. "Are you aware that Dr. Maya is clinically insane?"

Shoko yawned. “Maya’s methods are… unconventional.”

Gojo blinked. "She bribed me with Digimon cards and then emotionally dismantled me like I was a child."

Shoko sounded amused. "She’s good with children."

Gojo’s eye twitched.

"Shoko," he repeated, voice flat. "She’s not a real therapist."

Shoko chuckled. "She’s certified."

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, deeply disturbed. "You’re lying."

Shoko yawned again. "I trust Maya’s methods."

Gojo hung up immediately.

---

Session Three: You vs. the Truth You Didn’t Ask For

The door creaked open, and the air inside was too thick, pressing against your ribs like something living, breathing, watching.

Maya was already lounging in her chair, eyes bright, caffeinated, and unhinged, like a woman who hadn’t known peace in years and had learned to thrive in the chaos.

She didn’t look up as you entered. Didn’t even acknowledge you at first. She was too busy clicking her pen, scribbling something down in her notebook like she was writing your eulogy before you even sat down.

"Ah, there she is," Maya finally hummed, flipping to a fresh page. She tilted her head, observing. "Come on in. Take a seat.”

Just walked in, sat down, and stared at the floor, your fingers clenching the fabric of your pants.

You weren’t sure what to say.

Weren’t sure if this would help.

Therapy had never worked before.

It had always felt like throwing words into a void, like handing someone the sharpest parts of you and watching them try to dull them down into something digestible.

And you were too tired for that now.

Maya studied you, tapping her pen against her teeth, her smile disarming, too light, too casual to be sincere.

“Did they send you here to make you feel better, or are you actually looking to fix yourself?”

Your shoulders twitched at the bluntness, but you didn’t flinch.

Didn’t answer.

Because what was there to fix?

You had been alone.

You had gone to your first ultrasound alone.

You had felt your body change, warping, becoming something unfamiliar, something monstrous—and you had done it alone.

And they had made that choice for you.

Maya let the silence hang, watching you with something too calculating, too sharp to be called kindness.

Then, she sighed, flipping her pen between her fingers. “You know, I don’t bite. I just ask questions.”

You opened your mouth.

Closed it.

Your chest tightened, fingers twitching, itching to do something—to move, to run, to leave.

To disappear, like you always did when things got too much.

Maya leaned forward, unblinking.

“So. Let’s start easy.”

A pause.

Then—

"What brought you here?”

A breath. Then, an exhale.

Your voice, soft, hollow, slid out—

“They ignored me.” It sounded like a child throwing tantrums to your own ears.

Maya’s pen stilled mid-air. “How long has this been going on?”

“Months.”

Your voice cracked.

“Months and months. They—" You stopped, swallowed. “They didn’t tell me anything. I don’t even know what happened. It just—” Your fingers dug into your palms, nails biting deep.

“It just felt like they shut me out.”

Maya didn’t immediately respond.

She just watched. Studied. Waited.

Silence was a therapist’s greatest weapon.

And, like clockwork, you cracked.

Your words came faster, frantic, unraveling.

“I didn’t deserve this. I waited for them, and they—they chose each other. They’ve always chosen each other.”

Your face was drawn and pale, your eyes tired but burning, the same ache you had been carrying for months sinking deep into your bones.

Maya paused her note-taking and focused fully on you, but her eyes were far too sharp, as if calculating. “I see.” She leaned back, allowing the silence to stretch. “You feel like you were abandoned. Left out of something important.”

Your eyes flickered toward her, wide with that all-too-familiar ache. You nodded slowly. “I don't even know what happened. One day they were there, and the next they weren't. And when they came back, it was like…” You trailed off, gaze falling to your lap again. “It was like I was invisible.”

Maya smirked. "And where does that leave you?"

Your head snapped up. 

"I don't know. But I don't think I can take it anymore."

Maya hummed, twirling her pen. "You’re jumping to conclusions. What makes you think you weren’t enough?"

You laughed, but it was wrong, something brittle and full of splintered edges.

"Because they—" You stopped. Exhaled. "Because they didn't think I was worth telling the truth."

Your voice dropped.

Soft. Small. Distant.

“Whatever they did.”

Maya studied you carefully, unblinking, unphased. “I’m not going to tell you everything,” she finally said. “Not now. But sometimes, the truth we think we know is not the truth at all. Sometimes, the pain we’re feeling is about things we don’t even understand yet.”

You blinked rapidly, confusion thickening your mind. “But... how could I not understand? How could I not know what happened? What did I do to deserve this?”

Maya’s voice lowered, almost soothing, “You didn’t deserve to be left in the dark, no. But they had their own pain, their own burdens, and you were... outside of that. They didn’t want to bring you in, not because of you, but because of them.”

“But—”

“Shh,” Maya cut you off gently. “Sometimes, the truth is too much. Sometimes, the ones we trust don’t tell us things because they think they’re protecting us.”

Your jaw locked.

You thought about Gojo’s voice, light and teasing even when he was lying through his teeth.

You thought about Nanami, quiet, methodical, but just as guilty.

You thought about the months of silence, of whispers you were never meant to hear, of conversations that ended the moment you walked into the room.

And suddenly, you were angry.

Maya saw it.

She leaned forward, watching the shift.

Good.

That was progress.

“Are you justifying it?” You snapped.

"No. You didn’t deserve this,” she said. “But they had a choice. And they made the wrong one."

Your mouth went dry, heart pounding in your chest. “But... I needed them. I needed both of them. How could they just—” You broke off again, voice crumbling. “How could they just leave me?”

Maya nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving yours. “And that’s what you need to understand. You were never invisible; not to them, so it was a choice. But the truth was too much. And now?” She smiled, though it wasn’t a kind smile. “Now they have a problem to fix. And they don’t know where to start.”

Your face twisted in silent confusion. “But they—” You stopped, shaking your head. “What truth? What didn’t they tell me?”

Maya pressed her lips together, a trace of something unreadable in her expression. “You’re going to have to wait for that.” She leaned forward again, almost eagerly, her voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone. “But for now, let me give you something to think about. You’re going through all seven stages, and that’s okay. You’re grieving the space you thought you had in their lives.”

You stiffened.

“But listen closely,” Maya continued, her smile just a little too sharp. “You have to let go of the idea that it’s your fault. Because it’s not. But they... they might have to make a choice. And maybe, just maybe, that means you can’t have them both, at least not right now.”

Your breath caught. “What... what does that mean?”

Maya leaned back in her chair, her eyes flickering with something darker now, like she was savoring the unraveling. “It means, for a while, Gojo and Nanami won’t share you. They’ll have to take turns. One week with him, the other with you. It’s messy, but that’s what they get for fucking everything up, isn’t it?”

Your mind raced, heartbeat picking up in a panic. “Isn’t that cheating?”

She brought up a hand and snapped it at you, “GIRLLL.”

You understood that.

Maya raised her hand. “You can. And you will. Because what’s the alternative? You let them continue to tear you apart, or you force them to take a step back, one at a time. It’s not your fault—well, not the main one at least; we’ll talk about your going-to-the-milk store-tendencies later, but it’s their responsibility to fix it first.”

You sat back, hands trembling. Was this the answer? Was this what would make it better? Could it really fix anything?

Maya leaned forward again, the manic gleam still in her eyes. “Think about it. I’ll send you the homework tomorrow. See you next week.”

She propped her legs on the table, groaning and chugging neat vodka like she was at a rager. She fmbled with her phone when all of you had walked out and shot a quick text, “It’s done.”

---

Unknown POV

On the other side of Tokyo, in an office that smelled of old paper and the kind of leather that cost more than most people’s annual salary, a man sighed.

"Small woman.”

The word dripped off his tongue like a slow, measured insult.

“How hard is it to schedule one fucking meeting?”

The speaker crackled slightly before the CHRO responded, tone flat with the kind of exhaustion only a corporate job could inflict.

“She’s on leave. We can’t do anything. You’ll have to meet with the current CEOs if you want to go ahead with the investment.”

The man exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing his temple.

“I’m investing a fuck-ton of money,” he said, voice deceptively calm, the way a venomous snake might speak if it suddenly gained the ability to. “The least you can do is let me meet your founder.”

"Respectfully, sir, if you are budgetarily impaired, maybe you shouldn’t be investing with us... or any company for that matter.” CHRO sang; her favorite time these days was to annoy this guy who’d call her 60 times a day just to be able to have a meeting with you.

“Where do you live, small woman?” The voice was eerily quiet.

CHRO backtracked. “Sir, she’s unwell.”

There was a pause.

Then—

“Okay,” the man said. “So what do you want?”

“Excuse me?”

“A bag. A car. A man. Food. Travel. Tell me anything. I’ll get it for you.”

The CHRO smirked, leaning back in her chair. “I flirt with this lawyer online, and he doesn’t know it’s me.”

“Do you want his body beheaded or with the head?”

“What the fuck?”

The man barely blinked. “What? Do you only want his dick cut-off?"

“No! I meant I enjoy talking to him! Why the hell would I want him dead?!!”

A slow, deliberate sigh.

“You corporate small women.” He sounded disappointed. “No vision.”

“Absolutely not.”

The line went dead.

The man stared at his phone for a second before setting it down carefully, as if the act of not destroying it took effort.

Then he started pacing.

Long, slow strides.

Like a caged predator in a too-small enclosure.

His fingers twitched at his sides, itching for something—violence, entertainment, a meeting that should not have been this difficult to arrange—but instead, he exhaled, tilting his head just slightly, cracking his neck.

Then he smiled.

---

A/N: This is it, besties. The clowns have officially taken the wheel of this fic. 🤡 It’s going places. I don’t know which places. But it’s getting there nonetheless. But don’t worry, these ideas might sound like clownery right now—but trust. I’ll try to wrap this ending up in like five chapters, but don’t sue me if it’s a little up or down. You all want an earned ending, right? And we still have lore to reveal — Haibara’s, Megumi’s… This fic isn’t writing itself (although sometimes it feels like it is). Also, yeah, Haibara is yandere now — but like a self-aware yandere. Oh, btw — do you guys still like Haibara? If not, lmk so I can scrap his ending. Or would you rather have Sukuna instead? Because honestly, Sukuna would absolutely pull the same shit Haibara is doing. He might not even tell you you’re pregnant until he’s sure it’s safe. I’m talking about this fic’s Sukuna — not canon Sukuna. Canon Sukuna would probably just laugh and slice you. Also…who do you think the unknown POV was? 👀 Was it Sukuna?? Let me know if you found the easter egg about Haibara. 👀 Don’t leave me hanging, besties. Check out the Ao3 for more notes.

Next chapter (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz @thebumbqueen @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[masterstr0ke]

Hihi, i wanted to make a request (if it’s open) Your last aventurine and welt pieces were beautiful 🩷

Dr ratio hasn’t gotten the time to spend time with you lately and he works hard, but you are his supportive spouse so you bring him snacks and remind him to take breaks in between and kiss the cheek of his alabaster head as a treat (he has it on) before you do your own work. Now all he can think about is you for the rest of the day (perhaps he would have preferred it on his skin too)

If you don’t write for him that’s fine ^^

No need to rush, tyt! ☁️

YOU KNOW I’M SUCH A FOOL FOR YOU.

HUSBAND!RATIO x GN!READER

WARNINGS: annoyed Ratio, jealousy over an inanimate object (?), drowning in work. 2nd person POV (you/yours/yourself)

WORD COUNT: 494

AUTHOR NOTE: i know what you are👀

The day was slow at the Intelligentsia Guild, especially for the infamous Dr. Ratio.

Since the day began, all he has been doing is deal with insufferable morons with a worn-out shoe for a brain! Such imbeciles, Ratio believes time is precious, but unfortunately his students are dumb enough to waste it, even dumber to waste his time by asking how old he is or if he’s single or not.

Those fools don’t have to know that at-work Dr. Ratio is different than at-home Veritas, and can’t they figure out the question themselves by paying the slightest bit of attention to the silver band on his left hand’s ring finger? His attitude should’ve intimidated them enough for their minds to not go beyond the assumption that all he does at home is shower, eat work and sleep.. right? At least, that’s what he thinks.

However, he hasn’t been paying enough attention to the beautiful person sharing the other ring with him; the one he said his vows to. All he does when he goes back home is shower, eat, work and sleep. That’s it. He doesn’t even have time to glance your way, and that angers him.

He put on his alabastor head; His expression was too sour to welcome anyone who dares enter his office besides higher-ups. And just as he was about to start working in peace, a knock erupted at his office’s door, great. Ratio grumbled quietly. “Come in.” He spoke in an authoritative tone, expecting this to be a higher-up or an idiot student.

You open the door, a box in your hand, and a wide smile that rivals the sun in its shiny glory. “Veritas!” You call out as a greeting, before rushing to his desk. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll make this quick. You forgot your lunch at my office,” Oh, so that’s where his lunch went. You also worked at the Intelligentsia Guild, also being a teacher of high regard. Opposites attract, they say. All of your students love you, and you’re friends with everyone; An obvious contrast from your husband. You place the lunchbox on his desk with your left hand, the band on your ring finger glistening in the sunlight, the source being the window behind Veritas’ chair.

You then lean in and kiss the cheek of the alabastor head, then the lips. It wasn’t enough, since the head lacked the warmth of skin, but you were content. You give him a smile before you head out the door, just like that.

Ratio slowly took off the alabastor head, looking at it in disgust as if it owes him something. It does, it took away his lover’s kisses. As childish as it sounds, he’s been craving a kiss for a while. He supposes he has to wait until he goes back home, maybe he’ll get all the kisses he wants. In exchange of his work being put aside, even for a little while.

[spade-12]

Spade Doodles Showcase Is Here! (100+ followers special!)

- Duration

From January 18 to TBD?? (Deadline for when I stop taking requests not when I stop drawing!)

- Details

To celebrate me reaching 100+ followers, I will be hosting a small event!

First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for following & supporting me - regardless of my inactivity - and interacting with my posts ^^. Sometimes I just come off and on again and I’m still surprised when people engage with my blog. I think it’s typical of me to say that I never thought I would ever get to meet so many people that welcome me to this community. Or to have any moots at all. And I know I don’t interact much (which I want to do more, I’m just really bad at socializing >_>), but I’ve meet amazing people, from the art that they make, and to the person they are in general. To whoever’s reading this, thank you, regardless if you follow me or not, I appreciate everyone’s support :)

100 may not be a big number, but it’s still pretty amazing that 100 people (+more) enjoy my blog enough to follow me . I’m glad people like my art, and that I could share it to other people. No words and numbers can express the immense gratitude to have meet you all, and to be able to be in this community. Thank you all for listening to me blabber and thank you for the support ❤️ now on to the real stuff!

-EVENT INFO-

A request event where you can roll on this limited banner featuring my Yuusona and Grim! In this banner you get to roll for their cards, sort of like a gacha! And whatever card you roll on, will be the surprise you will get for your request! 🎉

(inspired by a gacha pulling event by @/the-rini-rush or now @/rinis-reality!)

-How to roll

Leave a comment or an ask, then if I stumble upon your request, I’ll spin a random number generator from 1-8. For example, if I rolled (1) for your request, that means you’ll receive the starsending card, and if the request asks for a drawing of Kalim with yuu, then I(♠️) will draw a fully-rendered piece! As explained below. But if there are any specific requests, it will hopefully be mentioned in the request! Like a specific pose, or idea, etc.

Note-I think I might skip on the dms, because I realized that my gacha has to be a surprise for my rollers, and responding means they’re chosen buttttt, 👀 I want it to be a secret! Orrr maybe it might be too much if it’s dms 😭 idkk But I’ll respond to any comments asking, guess that’s not so secret, but when I will get the drawing done will depend 🙇‍♂️

Rules/How to Join!

Moots & followers can only participate-but I’m always open to new followers!(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Comment, or submit an ask about your request!

Specify any details you want incorporated, poses, ideas, details, etc.

I may dm personally if I have any questions

Requests are not “limited,” but I will take priority for first come first serve if you ever request twice! Depending if people participate at all hhh><

DOS

Only TWST related (for now?. Unless I’m in the mood..)

Limited to 2 people in a request, depending on complexity, but feel free to add more just in case!

OC/CC, OC/CC, and CC/CC allowed!

Age appropriate (SFW) please nothing suggestive 😭 I can’t draw that…

DONTS

Nothing pro ship, homophobic, or anything with ill intent, I don’t condone that here!

I might not be able to draw certain/complex things because i’m not capable enough … (complex mechas, backgrounds -depends-, furries, anthro 😭)

Additional info (Please read!! ^^)

Occasionally I might do other drawing ideas or participate in other events (just as little breaks in between!)

Drawings may take a while , but I’ll try my best!

I’ll also note they might take longer due to irl stuff, and also I’ve been coming down with the flu these daysss..

Note the drawings example below may not be the exact style you’ll be getting

Also my drawings may suck, so yea, beware!👻👻

Featured Cards ♠️

I was planning to do more refined examples but I grew lazy and I haven’t been doing well, so that adds to the surprise! Sorry everyone 🥹 also some of these are older drawings I never posted-

Hopefully my health gets a bit better!!^^

1.SSR- Starsending

A request style painting, with additional sketches, where it will be rendered, shaded, and most detailed!

2.SSR- White Rabbit Festival

A request collection of sketches, a mixture of color and tiny drawings!

Ex.

3.SSR- Liongarb

A request collection a whole page of doodles (some slightly colored with lots of different pictures!

Ex.

4.SSR- Dorm Uniform

A request special card sr, where you can get a design for a ungroovy and groovy!

5.SSR- Birthday boy

A request special card SSR where you can get a design with a ungroovy and groovy!

Ex.

6.SSR- Birthday Jacket

A request where you can get a special cover based on the official TWST manga! (By Yana’s style) + possible manga panel?

7.SSR - Bloom Broomquet Birthday

A request where you can get a special cover based on the Offical TWST manga! (By Aida Suzuka’s style) + possible manga panel?

8.SSR - Platinum Birthday

A special request where you’ve reached guaranteed! If you get this card, you get to choose which selection of other request listed above you want! This is where I’ll dm the roller and they can select their choice!

Have fun with your pulls! Thank you again!

BUT SERIOUSLY THANK YOU ALL!,! GSHSGD 😭😭😭 YOU GUYS ARE ALL AMAZING!!!!🫶💝❤️❤️💝❤️💝❤️❤️-♠️

-Additional full body ref of design and art-