#the whole point is just—ok this is a part of me so take it or leave it.

[karikarasuno]

part one | part two | part three | part four

law is a grown man. with a hard job. a tiring one. exhausting even.

so he shouldn’t be embarrassed that he fell asleep on your couch watching your favorite movie like an old fucking man. nor should he be embarrassed that you woke him up mid snore with sleepy eyes and an amused grin.

“you sleeping over, sleepyhead or should i send you home?”

his mouth is dry and he’s comfortably full. and was having the best dreamless sleep. the best sleep he’s had in a while, really.

“I should go home,” he mutters, his voice hoarse from lack of use. he stretches and his spine cracks. you chuckle and smack him on the shoulder lightly before standing up and holding out your hands to help him up. he slaps his palms against yours, doing most of the work getting up but putting enough weight on you so that you think you’re helping.

“i guess this is goodbye,” you say, fingers toying with law’s expectantly. but law is still a little high. and more than a little sleepy. so when he looks back at this moment he can’t help but cringe.

he should have kissed you. you wanted him to kiss you. he wanted to kiss you. but he hugged you instead. one-armed and a touch awkward.

“oh! ok,” you muffle it into his hoodie, but he doesn’t remember responding. not until the next morning when he’s showering away the grogginess before work.

oh, he’s an idiot.

so yeah maybe over the last few days he’s been avoiding you. but he also has been busy. he had multiple surgeries. all very difficult to do. all successful. he shouldn’t beat himself over a kiss. or lack thereof.

he hasn’t been home for more than an hour before there’s a knock on his door. he's expecting company so he doesn't think twice before swinging the door open. but he expects cora to be standing there or even his sister. neither of which are taking up the space in front of his open door. instead you stand there with your hands on your hips and a very determined look on your face.

"you're avoiding me," you say rather bluntly. no hi or hello or how are you doing.

"i'm not," he argues, even though he is.

"you totally are," you point an accusatory finger at him, but he can't tell if you're actually upset with him or not.

"no, i've been busy this week," he shrugs trying his hardest to be nonchalant.

"oh so this has nothing to do with us making out in my kitchen or the fact that you thanked me for it when you left?"

he cringes again. what possessed him to thank you he'd never know. all he knows is that he's slightly mortified that he did. so fine, he's been avoiding you.

"you know, we don't have to make this weird," you continue, talking animatedly with your hands. "i mean we were really starting to become friends so if us kissing made things awkward then we don't have to do it anymore."

anymore. as if the two of you have been kissing this whole time.

"like really, we can forget it ever happened. but if the kiss was bad and that's why you're ignoring me just lie because then i'd have to start avoiding you and it will turn into this whole fucking thing."

he never realized how much you rambled. words are falling from your lips so quickly that he can only get the gist of what you're saying, but even that registers as ridiculous to him. of course the kiss wasn't bad.

"if you didn't like that kiss it would be such a huge blow to my ego because if i'm being honest that was such a great kiss for me, but if you hated it-"

"stop," he interrupts because at no point does it sound like you're going to run out of air. "i didn't hate the kiss. it was a good kiss."

"so then why...?"

"just come inside," he says, annoyed that his ac is being wasted by the open door.

and he doesn't register the way your eyes widen and your jaw drops when he closes the door behind you and pushes you against it. he's just trying to gather his thoughts. he's not trying to make a move. not really anyway. but with his hand splayed out across your stomach and your back firmly against the wood, he notices that you've finally stopped talking.

he sighs with relief.

"i don't regret what we did. i just have been feeling weird about what i said," he admits, almost wishing that he didn't.

"it was sweet," you grin, head tilting to the side.

"it was..." he trails off, electing not to even finish the sentence. "anyway i enjoyed the kiss so you can stop freaking out over it."

"how much?" your grin is growing smug and he hates how attractive he finds it.

"what?"

"how much did you enjoy the kiss?" now your grin is absolutely shit-eating.

"enough to do it again," he confesses. he sees the way your eyes light up, hell he feels the way your excitement builds when you adjust beneath his hand. the hand that he should’ve moved but decided subconsciously not to because he also enjoys the way you feel against him.

“so what are you waiting for then?” your heads cocks to the side and you look up at him with flirty eyes as your tongue swipes across your bottom lip.

“is that what you want?” he steps closer to you, his socked feet touching the toe of your shoes. his hand presses more firmly against your stomach and he watches the way your head thuds against his door.

everything was normal two seconds ago. there was no heat in his home. no tension pulling his muscles taut. but now he’s drawn to you in unexplainable ways. he’s going to kiss you. he has the choice but the way you’re looking at him makes him question if the decision really was ever his.

“come on then,” you whisper, hands sliding up his arms until your hands lock behind his neck, “kiss me.”

you don’t tug him down. you try to but law decides its easier to lift you off the floor so that you come nose to nose with each other. he likes the way you gasp when he uses his body to press you against the door again. he especially likes the way he can feel the exhale of your shock tickle his lips.

“fine,” he says just before his lips meet yours. he remembers kissing you the first time but because of his high everything was a little muddy. the memory tinged with just a bit of fog. like an overcast day.

this kiss though is going to be seared into his mind. you whimper when he kisses you. did you do that last time?

your hands are so insistent as you tug him closer. his tongue is already in your mouth so he doesn’t know how much closer he can really be. but you’re kinda desperate. for him.

it makes his head reel. and when you tug on his hair, the pressure on his scalp makes him groan. fuck, he really wants you. how you could ever think he didn’t like kissing you was beyond him. he’s already hard for christ’s sake.

“we should go to my room.” he hopes you agree. prays for it. because if you keep kissing him like this his knees will eventually give out.

“ok,” you respond with your lips still touching his. “i’d like that.”

he knows you expect him to put you down with the way your legs start to unhook from around him, but he tightens his hold on your hips. reluctant to let you go.

it’s been a while since law was able to touch and be touched like this. so the idea of letting you go now, when you were already so willing to be in his arms, will actually devastate him. a feeling he will have to reevaluate later.

instead he carries you off to his bedroom, not giving you the time or space to look around. not that there’s much to see given how painfully boring his home is. he’s a victim of millennial grey.

he tosses you onto his bed and he watches you bounce slightly before he’s climbing over you. his lips find your neck where he starts to place open mouthed kisses across sensitive skin. you arch into him and he really likes the way your breasts press into him as you do.

“you have a four poster bed?” the question rattles in his brain uselessly until he pulls away to see you gazing up at his bed frame.

“yeah… it was my parents before they decided to upgrade their bedroom furniture,” he says like it’s obvious before moving back down to kiss your neck again, this time trailing wet kisses across your collarbone.

“it would be so pretty if you draped those white thin curtains over it. you know the ones?”

he’s growing frustrated when he looks back up at you and you’re still looking at frame. almost as if you’re already envisioning it.

he tilts your head back towards him by pressing his pointer finger to your chin. your eyes slide over to him and he can tell you’re a little dazed. but he’s not sure if it’s because of him or his fucking bed frame.

“can you focus?” he grits out, eyes glaring into yours. you blink up at him, lips stretching into a salacious smile.

“on you?” you ask, very clearly knowing the answer but taunting him anyway.

“on me, exactly.” but law refuses to wait for an answer from you. he’s hard and his hands are finally on you and he can still taste the remnants of cranberry juice on your tongue. you’re driving him crazy.

he kisses you hard with purpose. the purpose to mostly shut you up. but to also keep your attention on him. he craves your attention. maybe he’s deprived.

none of it matters though because you whine into his mouth when he sucks your tongue. your hands come up to fist his t-shirt and your hips start seeking friction against the thigh he placed between your legs.

his hands push your top over your breasts, the fabric bunching beneath your chin, and exposing the poor excuse of a bra you have on. it’s just thin lace that does nothing to conceal how hard your nipples are. but it still decorates your chest in a way that has him salivating.

law dips his head down to press a kiss to your sternum, dragging his lips across your chest until his lips hover over one of your nipples. you wiggle relentlessly when he doesn’t do anything, instead he rests his nose against the top of your breast and he inhales the smell of your skin.

“don’t tease me,” you complain, nails dragging through his hair in an attempt to get him to do something.

“i’m not teasing,” he replies, his lips ghosting over your hard peak and smiling to himself when your hips stutter where you’re grinding against his leg.

“you are,” you whine, and when he glances up at you your head is thrown back and you’re trying to take measured breaths through your mouth. good, he needs you focused only on him.

“no,” his lips wrap around your nipple and you moan out so pretty for him. his dick twitches.

“i’m savoring,” he emphasizes before sucking your nipple into his mouth and dampening the transparent fabric with his spit. you moan out his name and his skin goosebumps at the sound. he’s thought of this more times than he’d care to admit but it dulls in comparison to the reality.

you’re clingy. and he short circuits at the realization. for all your quippy little comments and playful mocking you have little to no resolve right now. you’re putty in his hands. and your body is positively begging for him not to stop.

“law,” your voice is wispy and distant. your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted and you want him. need him. he can just tell.

he moves down your body and your hands follow. always touching him. he can’t get enough. he takes off your shoes rougher than he intends but you’re eager. so eager you start working your pants down your thighs.

“it matches,” he exhales after you kick off your pants and try reaching for him again.

“huh?” you scoot closer to the edge of the mattress where he’s standing, seeking him out again. his hand drifts between your thighs, fingers carefully dragging across your covered center. the lace of your panties is the same as your bra. the hair on his arms bristle when it occurs to him that you did this on purpose.

your hand finds his shirt, intent on pulling him towards you again, but instead he drops to his knees. law spreads your legs wide, massaging your thighs as he tosses your calves over his shoulders.

he kisses the inside of each knee, luxuriating in the feel of your skin against his lips. it really has been too long. when he looks up at you, you’re propped on your elbows staring down at him. your pupils are blown out and your shirt is still tucked beneath your chin and you look so expectant.

he doesn’t miss the way your hands ball up his comforter as he kisses down your thighs. or the way you bite your lip when his breath fans over your pussy.

law’s grip tightens on your thighs the closer his lips get to tasting you. he’s trying so hard to be normal but he finds it difficult when he can see how wet you are through your panties.

he slips his fingers beneath the edge of your underwear, sliding it off to the side. he groans at the sight. unintentionally. he takes two fingers and spreads you apart, the contact has your hips rolling into him.

you’re so responsive. especially when he dips two fingers into your entrance and drags your slick over your clit. he does that a few more times, watching as you clench around nothing every time he pulls them out.

“you say you’re not a tease,” you start, whispering because your voice is all breath at this point, “but it’s really starting to feel like you’re lying.”

he chuckles against your inner thigh, entertained. “i’d apologize but this view is too pretty not to appreciate.”

“i think you’d appreciate it better if you actually did something,” you breathe, voicing ticking up with impatience.

“and what would that something be?” he asks, fingertips resting at your entrance but refusing to go in further. he’s having fun. more fun than he’s had in a long time.

“something like this,” you say, reaching between your own thighs to move his fingers out of the way. it’s the last thing he expects you to do. to finger yourself right in front of his face. but he stares as you pump your fingers in and out with practice. they’re considerably smaller than his yet you still roll your hips as you meet each gentle thrust. you still moan in relief. you still sigh his name.

“move,” now he’s the impatient one. he can’t bear the sight anymore. he needs to satisfy you. so badly he swears his skin starts vibrating.

he removes your hand like it’s nothing, slipping your fingers into his mouth to clean them off. you gasp in surprise but he’s not really thinking anymore. it’s all just instinct.

he licks between your folds, groaning at your taste. you’re so wet, impossibly so. his eyes fall shut and he truly does savor you. he swallows you down over and over, his lips wrapping around your clit as your hips begin to circle.

“oh, law, you’re so good at that,” your hand finds his hair and a moan of surprise slinks up his throat at your praise. he needs to hear you say it again.

law returns his fingers to you. not toying with you this time. he hooks his fingers exactly the way you did a few moments ago. and you cry out, fingers curling in his hair.

“mmm just like that.” you’re still propped up on your elbows but your chin is resting against your chest and you can barely keep your eyes open as you watch him. your voice is soft and whiny and your movements start to become frantic.

“shit shit shit.” he’s pretty sure he’s leaking into his boxers. he speeds up and your noises increase in response.

your mouth is absolutely filthy. you beg and swear and ramble. it washes over him in waves, molten lust coursing through his veins.

“m’gonna cum, oh my-.” you collapse onto his bed as you come around his fingers and into his mouth. your thighs snap around his head and it muffles your pleas. but he doesn’t stop. not until he feels you go boneless around him. your walls the only thing still tremoring around his fingers as your breaths leave your lungs in satisfied wheezes.

he’s so hard it hurts, yet seeing you like this almost makes him feel like he got off too. he kisses his way back up your body. his lips soaked in your orgasm.

your hands are weak and shaky as you loop your fingers through his belt loops. somehow still wanting more from him.

“let’s take a second,” he gently wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you as he pecks your neck and cheek.

he would stay in this syrupy afterglow with you forever. he could keep you in these sheets for hours. that’s what he wants. it’s what he craves. but just like everything in his life nothing is ever convenient.

“kiss me again,” you plead.

but his lips never touch yours. there’s three loud knocks on his door. cora’s voice slips through the cracks.

“no,” he jumps off of you, searching his pockets for his phone. “fuck, i forgot my siblings were coming over.”

“what?!” you recover quickly, covering yourself with your hands as if you got caught by them. “that’s not something you forget!”

you’re scolding him. “you distracted me!” he retaliates and your mouth opens and then promptly shuts.

“that’s fair,” you ultimately reply.

he pulls his phone from his back pocket and opens his doorbell camera app.

“why are my parents here?” his voice is cold, drenched in his shock.

“oh my god, i cannot meet your parents like this! your brother was one thing,” you shuffle off the bed and onto the floor. “what do we do?”

“get dressed,” he tosses you your pants as he quickly adjusts himself in his. “i just have to think of something to say.”

“i came over for a cup of sugar?” you offer as you stick your legs into bottoms.

“ok no,” he rolls his eyes, “firstly that doesn’t happen in real life-,”

“it totally does.”

“and second, they’re never gonna believe that.”

“why not?” and you pout.

“because the likelihood of me owning sugar is very low,” he answers tearing his eyes away from your bottom lip. you’re starting to become a real problem for him.

“jeez, no smoking, no sugar. what are you? Mormon?” you try to fix your hair but you only kind of make it worse.

“yes,” he says, monotone and staring blankly at you.

“really?”

“no.” he laughs to himself.

“jerk,” you push him but not hard enough for him to budge.

“let’s just go,” he tries to tug you out of his room once your decent.

“no way, i am just gonna sneak out the back and cut across our lawns.”

“you can’t be serious.” he doesn’t see the problem.

“law, i refuse to meet your entire freaking family in pajamas and having just come all over your face. you really expect me to greet your mom like that?!”

well now that he thinks about it. he can still smell you on his face. and all he can think about when he looks at you is how pretty you look freshly fucked. maybe you should sneak out the back.

“i’m too old for this shit,” he shakes his head and unlocks the sliding glass door in his bedroom.

“i promise I’ll make it up to you.” you lean up to kiss him chastely but not wasting much time before you slip out the door and dart across his lanai.

the doorbell rings out loud and sharp. he doesn’t have the time to watch you go unfortunately.

“one second!” he yells out running to his bathroom to splash water on his face and wash his hands before jogging to the front door.

“what took you so long?” cora eyes him like he knows exactly what took him so long. but that’s impossible. his brother is just a menace.

“i was in the bathroom,” he lies. his sister bullies her way inside first, headphones on and texting furiously. next his parents walk in holding bags for dinner. it looks like enough food to feed ten families if he’s being honest.

“hi, sweetie.” his mom taps his cheek with her hand and he internally cringes.

“son,” his dad nods and claps him on the shoulder.

cora lingers though. he sizes law up before stepping over the threshold, leaning in close as he says “i saw her run out the back.”

law side eyes him, but says nothing.

“you scoundrel.”

[twopoppies]

Speaking of social media, is it true that harry defended Ow from the hate she was getting online and specifically mentioned larries on tw? I wasn’t around when that happened. How did the fandom react and what do you think about it?

Hi, love. No. That's not what happened at all. But that's how some harries and antis twisted it. What he said was:

Styles is not the most online person — he uses Instagram to look at plants and architecture posts, has never had the TikTok app, and calls Twitter “a shitstorm of people trying to be awful to people” — but he’s still aware of how those small, toxic corners of the internet are treating the people closest to him. “That obviously doesn’t make me feel good,” he says, carefully. It’s a tightrope he’s treading in discussing this. He wants to — and does! — see the good in his fans, but there’s no denying that like every large online community, this one has a faction that runs on hate and anonymity. 

[...] “Can you imagine,” he says, “going on a second date with someone and being like, ‘OK, there’s this corner of the thing, and they’re going to say this, and it’s going to be really crazy, and they’re going to be really mean, and it’s not real.… But anyway, what do you want to eat?’ ”

While Styles takes comfort in knowing his whole fandom is not like that, he still wonders about how to respond when the noise gets too loud. “It’s obviously a difficult feeling to feel like being close to me means you’re at the ransom of a corner of Twitter or something,” he says. “I just wanted to sing. I didn’t want to get into it if I was going to hurt people like that.”

It's particularly the middle paragraph people glommed on to and made about larries (particularly the "it's not real" part). But also the author uses the phrase "small, toxic corners of the internet." This is just idiotic to me. Yes, of course he could mean larries. But he literally could mean any group of fans. I can think of a LOT of toxic corners of the internet where people are disgusting to others. And it doesn't mean he's speaking about Olivia, either. That reads like a hypothetical situation IMO.

This is a man who isn't going to discuss or confirm his relationships or his sexuality. But he's going to be incessantly asked about both. So he's going to give vague or hypothetical answers. For example, he says earlier in the piece:

Styles, without prompting, points out how silly he finds some of the arguments about how he may identify to be: “Sometimes people say, ‘You’ve only publicly been with women,’ and I don’t think I’ve publicly been with anyone. If someone takes a picture of you with someone, it doesn’t mean you’re choosing to have a public relationship or something.”

Obviously, Harry is a master at swerving a question he doesn't want to answer. And this answer is a lot of semantics. But he has a right to answer that way.

So, if you look at Holivia from a bigger picture stance and take in everything we know about it, then look at this interview (which was specifically arranged to promote DWD), you can decide for yourself if he's defending her. Personally, I don't think he was considering her in his answer at all because I think Holivia was 100% a PR relationship. But he a good person who wouldn't want anyone to be hurt, even if they weren't actually his girlfriend? Yeah.

Full article here

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just read the new mutants issue where Charles chose to stay behind in space and my god the juxtaposition between Charles trusting Erik and Erik joining the hellfire club and wondering at his own trust worthiness. I wonder how much of Charles decision was him ultimately trying to avoid the fact that his first class had seemingly betrayed mutant kind and not be willing to face them and how much of it was Dani and Illyana's reaction to him having Karma mind control Illyana. the fact that Illyana was depending on him to ease her mind through limbo and in choosing to stay he forced karma to do it instead, probably fucking up their relationship in the process.

I love him, this is crazy, how much of this is him trying to runaway and how much is this him not trusting himself to fix things and how much is it just him trusting Erik?

i keep trying to put into words my exact thoughts about the sitch but there really is a lot for one issue aintit... oh charles you and your brain...

[maraschinotopped]

ive been staring at the naqtube channel page just doing analysis thoughts in my head for like 15 minutes and ive just been hit with the realization that Damn this is not normal. normal people dont do this. either the mental illness or the mild sickness is doing something to me right now.

[metukika]

i wish this fic would write itself

[ciderjacks]

argh. This comic writing is taking me way longer than usual. I keep editing things and it doesn’t feel right.

[transannabeth]

hi. for people who saw gatsby: an american myth. do you remember mckee asking nick for lunch. and then gatsby in like the next scene inviting nick for lunch. because i remember.

[elegyofthemoon]

ok but do i want to actually sit and read through all the clockie animation stuff so i have better foundation for what i want to say? i guess

[todayisafridaynight]

At which point did you realise that the plot of IW is ass? I've seen people complain only about the ending or the halfway point where the teams separate, while I was already actively rolling my eyes like four-five chapters in

i think the moment i fully accepted that IW's story was. Definitely A Story was the moment ebina announced 'bleach japan'. like i think leading up to that point i was thinking to myself 'oh i hope i see X happen' or being like 'i wonder where this is going' and that sort but the proverbial bucket of ice was definitely that moment

[compacflt]

I just finished rereading Slider's oneshot and I loved it just as much as I always do. I was wondering if you had any thoughts on how the conversation between Ice and Cougar went at Ice's retirement ceremony. You gave us little snippets of it from Slider's point of view, but I'd love to hear more of it if you have thoughts on it you'd like to share.

this is such a kind ask. i have no idea

for the same reason there is no explicit reaction in ch 12 when ice first hears mav say i love you—i spent a good week low key trying to figure out whether a reaction was needed there—it’s such a potent powerful cocktail of so many wild & unfamiliar emotions that i don’t personally think i have the literary juice to even attempt to try to describe it

i also am allergic to writing ice or mav explicitly coming out to anyone because it gives me secondhand embarrassment for them. the idea of the commander of the pacific fleet having to psych himself up to awkwardly mumble “um i should’ve told you all this time … i think i…i think im gay” to his friend gives me the ick sorry he’s not fifteen years old. so he Could be doing the big lgbt rite of passage of emotionally apologizing and coming out to Cougar in that conversation. but he Could Also be doing the ‘im nearly sixty years old im not gonna bullshit you’ thing of simply saying: “you and I have been very shitty to each other in the past and i apologize for that in x,y,z way and you were right about me and maverick and we’re gonna make it official this summer and if you want to come we’d really love to have you & normalize diplomatic relations between us again, you’re a real great friend when you’re not being a massive fucking douche”

[queensparklekitten]

I think I just guaranteed queen of nothing by the crane wives a place in my spotify wrapped tonight because of time princess

[doublekanble]

Hi. Read your fic WHAT THE FUC- (/POS ITS SO GOOD??) BRUH I WENT INTO IT BEING LIKE "oh I'm just curious as to what this'll be, I'm sure it's just like some short self indulgent thing" THEN GOT STABBED LIKE TWELVE TIMES OVER. INSTANT FOLLOW. OH MY GOD.

its actually IS self indulgent! just in the opposite direction! i want him to kiss me so badly but i also want him to hate me until its all he knows its a bit of trouble really

[ruinouslore]

SHOUT TO EVERYONE THAT USES DISCORD ON BROWSER ON THEIR PHONE/TABLET CUZ THE APP UI/UX IS SO HORRIBLE IT MAKES ME WANT TO ANGRY CRY jdjfjskfjsd

[subaru-meteorlight]

.

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Lol. Lmao even.

[chuluoyi]

✎ mission: baby steps !

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times gojo tried to make his baby love him (and how he miserably fails)

genre: full crack, dad!gojo being a sore loser, your baby being mean (he only wants peace, really), and obviously, fluff !!

note: a little thing for father's day ehe <3 i know i said i'll work on smut in the polls next but uhhh, this comes first ok?! :') i just love the idea of gojo vs baby don't mind me *sobs* and all the scenario here come from the tiktok/reels you've sent me!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

There are many things that come with being a jujutsu sorcerer, and when you are Gojo Satoru, those things seem to be multiplying like bunnies.

This essentially means less time with his wife and baby. Look, he could finish missions fast, but when sent to other cities, even he couldn't abuse his teleportation powers all the time to return to Tokyo.

And so, as much as he hated it, he couldn't fault his baby boy for forgetting him.

"Look, it's papa," you rocked your son with a smile, consoling him as he wailed right after Satoru held him. "Don't cry, don't cry! Papa just got back from a long mission, he's not scary!"

"Is he scared of me?" Ouch. The thought prickled him. It somehow felt sourer than seeing Principal Gakuganji's face.

You hummed, seemingly (or comically?) deep in thought. "Hmm, in baby's point of view: a big, bad man suddenly picks him up, of course he's scared."

"I'm not a bad man!"

Okay, he wasn't having this. Satoru adored his baby to bits and he would want him to at least know it. It's settled then—he would be taking paid leave just to spend some time with his baby.

This would be his mission for the next three days!

DAY ONE

The day started off great. Baby Gojo was relatively calm, a bit fussy here and there but Satoru could definitely handle him.

"Look, a plane is coming!" he said playfully, moving the spoon in the air to attract his baby's attention. "Open your mouth wide!"

Baby blinked at him with the straightest face ever. His two blue orbs were the very same as his father, and yet they held disinterest so great that it was a wonder Satoru didn't notice.

He then playfully smooched baby's face, but he scrunched up, cringing in response.

And later, another achievement unlocked: Satoru successfully got his son to sleep for his afternoon nap!

"You're so cute, sigh." Satoru poked his baby's cheek lightly. "You look like me, but when you sleep, you totally look like your mama..."

He might not say it out loud, but one of his favorite sights lately was seeing you sleep next to your son. Both of you looked so precious and vulnerable, so alike, and it made him warm.

And whenever he looked at this little creation between you and him, he also got the urge to poke him so bad.

So he did. Only this time, he poked him a little too hard.

And how wrong that move was.

His son immediately cracked his eyes open, his lips quivered, and then his whole face scrunched up, followed by—

"WAAA!"

"Oof! Wait— I'm sorry!"

Long story short, he refused to be held in Satoru's arms, so you took over and your husband could only watch you with dissatisfaction.

"Won't you let me hold you?" he asked despondently, pulling up a pitiful face and batting his eyelashes. "I have the warmest hugs! Mama can vouch for that!"

"Satoru, he doesn't want you."

DAY ONE RESULT : FAILED

DAY TWO

Okay, his baby would love him today. Satoru was sure of it.

He had ordered this baby ride-on toy via home shopping and not only that, he would play with him!

"Here we goo~! Honk! Honk!" Satoru steered the little vehicle with his son at the backseat, hyping him up and even made a weird sound that was supposed to resemble a... train?

You watched them both, giggling. Your husband looked positively ridiculous as he was too big for the small vehicle, but still persisted in entertaining your clueless baby behind him. "Oh my, Satoru, you're trying way too hard."

"I have to!" he retorted, sending pout and a glare at the same time. "You can't hog him all the time, he's my son too!"

"Well, good luck~ as it happens, your spawn isn't easy to impress."

"Just so you wait—!" Satoru begrudgingly shot you a look, eaten up by your taunts, not noticing the wall in front of him. "By the end of today, he'll— whoaaa!"

He was about to crash into the said wall, and you were prepared to jump to save your baby first. But then, Satoru did the next best thing to stop it—jumping out of the ride-on, rolling onto the floor... and crashing into the bookshelf that some of the things fell. "Ow!"

"Are you okay!?" you immediately picked up your baby before checking him over. However, Satoru's eyes were transfixed on your shared munchkin.

"Meh heh~"

And you too when you heard it— your baby was wiggling, all smiles, seemingly amused by the sight of his papa lying there pitifully. Satoru was aghast.

"Y-you have no filial piety!"

DAY TWO RESULT : FAILED

DAY THREE

Today, Satoru had gotten inside the playpen and brought a bunch of toys, planning to entertain his son with all of them.

"C'mon, don't throw that!" he pursed his lips when his kid flung the lego away. "Don't you want to play together with me?"

No. As if saying that, the baby crawled away from him. He seemed to have a target in mind though.

"Oi, what are you doing?" Satoru was puzzled, but he was in for a surprise when the child rose slowly.

"Oh, you're pushing yourself up..." he stated, observing how the baby, still wobbly, clutched on the edge of his playpen for support.

A huge grin spread across his face then. "Aww, look at you!" he gushed with pride. "You can stand already! Ooh!"

And suddenly, the sight tugged at his heartstrings. This was the first time he had ever witnessed such a milestone. He wasn't here when he first started teething or crawling, and now that he was here when his son was standing... he wanted to see more of this.

"Now, can you take a step?" Satoru moved closer to him, and the kid turned to him with those clear blue eyes and a little frown, seemingly unsure. "Go! Go! Come to me!"

He didn't think he would actually try to walk. But he did as baby let go of the support, alas suddenly he slipped—

And fell flat on his face.

"—! Are you hurt?!" Satoru immediately plucked him off the floor, horrified, and pulled him close when the baby started to sniffle. Soon, he began to wail inconsolably.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—!" he didn't even know why he was apologizing, but seeing his baby so frightened made his chest tighten. "Stop crying, oh wait—let's find mama!"

You were engrossed in your evening TV series when Satoru came barging to the living room with your poor son while being hysterical. "Help him!"

"What happened?!"

"He fell! He fell!"

Of course, your main concern was to comfort your baby, and so you reached out to take him from your husband's arms, only that...

"Huh...?" even Satoru was stunned when his son clutched onto his shirt, continuing to cry but refusing to let go, burying his little face into him.

Suddenly, he felt warm, he felt needed, and most of all, his desire to protect him was so overwhelming that he couldn't help but squeeze him closer.

You looked between the father and son, feeling giddy at the sight.

"He wants you," you finally smiled, patting baby's back. Satoru glanced between you and his precious pumpkin, seemingly taken aback as he blinked several times. When the fact sank in, he felt like a mush and pressed a kiss on his head.

The clown was convinced that his kid hates him and you are the savior. So, the fact that this little innocent being wanted him to comfort him... it made his heart flutter.

"Sorry, kid," he sighed into him, smushing his face to his little one's. "Don't cry, yeah? You're making me sad too."

"Satoru... are you getting glassy-eyed?"

"...am not!"

DAY THREE RESULT : DUBIOUS OUTCOME

"He's asleep..." you placed your baby between you and Satoru on the bed later that night, he was now so peaceful, out like a light.

Satoru turned to face you and the baby, looking at both of you with a yawn, but a soft smile lit his face when he saw how you pecked his son's cheek lightly.

These three days made him almost forget that curses still existed out there. Spending time with his son blurred that fine line between reality and a perfect daydream.

"He is still so little, but he screams so loud," he mused, poking the baby's cheek gently. You swatted his hand away, worried he might poke too hard again.

"You keep teasing him, that's why."

"—? He keeps playing me, is why!"

You two burst into quiet giggles then, and you couldn't help but reminiscing about the journey from when you first found out you were expecting, through the first ultrasound, and all the way to delivering your son.

And it seemed like Satoru had an inkling of what you were thinking when he suddenly blurted:

"Thank you, for everything you do," he whispered then, his eyes crinkled so softly at you.

You playfully huffed to hide your misty eyes, and in that moment, Satoru knew, that you too were glad for this life you two shared.

. . .

And that, in and of itself, was enough for him to thank all the stars for bringing him to meet you in that most beautiful spring of 2006.

Epilogue

It was morning, and baby was awoken by... sounds.

He looked to the side to find his mama there— your hand on his tummy to prevent him from rolling.

And then he turned to the other side to find his papa... who is perfectly still, but emanating this low sounds with each breath he took.

The longer he heard it, the more irritated your munchkin felt. So he rose, put his fists together, and came down on him—

Whack!

"—?!" Satoru groaned when something hit his face, and he opened his eyes only to see his son readying his punch again—

"W-why are you hitting me!" he was mortified. "H-help! Sweets, wake up! He’ll murder me!”

OVERALL MISSION RESULT : FAILED