#there is a time and a place to be suggesting those things

[p0orbaby]

Getting You Alone Isn’t Easy

summary: two reckless lovers, one ill-timed call, and zero chance of stopping

warnings: suggestive but not explicit

a/n: the length of time it took me to decide on a title for this was painful

word count: 1.5k

-

You’re draped over Alexia, straddling her in the faint, golden light that sneaks through the blinds. Her hands grip your hips in that familiar way, like you’re the last thing keeping her from floating off. You’re gasping, breathless, clinging to the taut warmth of her body beneath you as though the world is ending and this is your only way to stay grounded. Her hands, usually gentle, are digging in hard enough to leave bruises, but she’s sweet like that, knows exactly when you need to feel it. You can almost picture the bruises they’ll leave behind, thumbprints like violet ink smudged across your skin, each one a reminder that she was here, and that she wanted you badly enough to leave a mark.

It’s been a day, one of those long ones that started with a sun-blinded hangover, progressed into a searing headache, and then—once you forced yourself to actually acknowledge the calls you missed last night—moved rapidly toward near apocalyptic levels of panic.

Somewhere between the drink you had to “take the edge off” and the fourth one you drank without even thinking about it, Alexia texted you, and it felt like a solution, or maybe a distraction, though those two things are the same to you most of the time.

So here you are, in the thick of it, your bodies wrapped around each other, your mind slipping into that strange, dreamlike state where it feels like your skin isn’t your own. Everything’s heightened—her touch, her scent, the whisper of her breath on your neck. You’re right at the edge, teetering, and then—

Your phone rings.

Of course it fucking does.

At first, you ignore it. The vibrating hum is muffled against the sheets, barely noticeable above your own heartbeat, but then it rings again, louder this time, insistent. It’s like a drill sergeant at dawn, determined to ruin whatever peace you’d managed to find. You freeze, eyes half-closed, but Alexia’s hands don’t loosen. She’s looking up at you with an expression that’s half bemused, half annoyed, as if she’s only just managed to convince herself that you’re here, and now you’re about to ruin it with some petty, buzzing bit of reality.

You almost get through it, on the cusp letting it go to voicemail or hurling the damn thing into the bottom of your Birkin where it belongs. But something in you—a survival instinct, maybe—forces you to reach for it, fumbling as you do so. Alexia’s eyes follow your hand, then flick back up to yours with an exasperated look that says, Really? Now?

You manage to grab it without rolling entirely off her, though it’s a close call. Her hands move down to your waist, still holding you in place as you glance at the screen, and of course, it’s George. It’s always George. You swear he has some kind of sixth sense, an uncanny ability to detect the exact moment you’ve slipped into some semblance of happiness, so he can yank you back with some catastrophe or another. The man is a walking interruption.

“Don’t,” Alexia murmurs, pulling you back to the matter at hand, her voice soft but firm, her hands slipping up to your ribs with a kind of slow, determined patience. But you know better. If you don’t answer now, he’ll only call back five more times, and each time, he’ll sound more panicked, until he finally leaves you a voice note that’s somehow worse than the call itself.

“I have to,” you mutter, as you answer, attempting to clear your throat and sound like you weren’t just seconds away from giving in to everything she was doing to you.

“Hello?” you say, trying and failing to keep the breathlessness out of your voice.

George’s voice crackles through the speaker, shrill and brimming with that particular brand of theatrical urgency agents reserve for “crises.” He sounds faintly nasal, the sort of voice you imagine would belong to a man with an allergy to anything fun. You imagine him sitting in his cold, grey office somewhere in Soho, every surface immaculate and white, his expression permanently fixed into a grimace of perpetual disappointment.

“You need to sit down,” he says, voice pitched in that “I’m barely holding it together” tone that never actually means anything good.

“I am sitting,” you manage, though it comes out sounding more like a gasp than anything else, because Alexia—God bless her—is now trailing her lips along the column of your throat, completely unbothered by the fact that you’re very much occupied now. In fact, you’re convinced she’s doing this on purpose, her eyes meeting yours with that devilish glint that says she’s fully aware of what she’s doing. You pull back and give her a look—part warning, part exasperation—but she only grins, slowly, like she’s daring you to keep up the charade.

George doesn’t miss a beat. “There are photos,” he says, each syllable dripping with an ominous weight that would make anyone else think he was delivering news of a tragedy.

“Photos?” you ask, as Alexia’s hand slips a little higher, her fingers just grazing the edge of your panties. You’re barely holding it together, biting down hard on your lip to keep from making a sound. “George, there are always photos. What are you on about?”

He sighs, the kind of exasperated sigh he reserves for when he’s forced to explain the intricacies of your own life to you. “Not just any photos,” he says, voice dropping to a whisper that somehow makes everything sound worse. “These are… explicit”

“Explicit?” you repeat, your voice catching because Alexia’s lips are trailing across your collarbone now, her fingers dangerously close to places that make it impossible to sound remotely professional. “Define explicit, George”

He pauses, a beat of silence so thick with hesitation you can practically see his nervous, tight-lipped expression. “You and Alexia. On that yacht. Full-on… everything. Let’s just say someone with a very long-range lens took a rather extensive interest in your… activities”

It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do, it’s like being doused in cold water. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of everything—the sweat on your skin, Alexia’s fingers toying with you, her mouth now having moved to the swell of your exposed breast. You can’t tell if you’re more annoyed or amused by the fact that, somehow, your most private moments have once again become public property.

Alexia looks up at you once more, eyes glinting with something between curiosity and enjoyment, as if she can tell exactly what George is saying and finds the whole thing hilarious.

“So you’re telling me,” you say, trying to sound casual, though it’s hard with Alexia’s hands and mouth all over you, “that someone out there’s publishing wildlife documentaries of my sex life?”

“Don’t be flippant,” George snaps, though his voice cracks a little, like he’s barely holding it together. “This is serious. The Daily Mail already has them. And they’re… well, they’re explicit. The kind of thing they’d plaster on the front page if they could get away with it”

For a moment, you consider the insanity of it all—your life, reduced to some tawdry tabloid spread, the kind of thing boring nosey housewives read in supermarket queues. You imagine the headlines, the breathless, shocked tones they’d use to describe “the scandal.” Never mind the fact that you’re not the first celebrity to get caught like this, nor will you be the last. But still, it stings in that strange, twisted way fame always does, a reminder that your life isn’t really your own.

“I’m sorry, George,” you say, barely stifling a moan as Alexia’s hand moves just right, making it almost impossible to keep up the conversation. “But I don’t exactly have a solution for you right now”

George lets out a strangled noise. “Well, you bloody well better come up with one. Unless you want the world to know what you look like without your clothes on. Which, I might add, is not exactly… career-friendly”

You stifle a laugh, more out of habit than anything else. Alexia’s fingers are moving with that slow, calculated patience she knows drives you mad, and you can feel your resolve slipping. “Look, George,” you say, your voice strained, “I’ll call you back. After I… handle things”

“What? You can’t just hang up on me!” he practically shrieks, but you’re already pressing ‘end call’ and tossing the phone aside.

The phone lands back somewhere on the bed, George’s panicked voice cutting off abruptly. For a moment, there’s silence, and then Alexia lets out a low, throaty laugh, her eyes alight with amusement. She reaches her free hand up, trailing her fingers along your jaw, and there’s something wicked in her smile that makes you forget the world outside the bedroom.

“Where were we?” you murmur, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that makes you forget everything else.

“Right here,” she whispers, her voice soft but possessive, and you can’t help but smile as she pulls you back down, your bodies tangling once more as you lose yourself in her warmth.

[tuttle-did-it]

in the two-party current system in place, voting for a third person will definitely send a message. Any third party will NOT get in place in this election. You know that. And you know if you vote for a third party, that is essentially a vote for trump. But you want to send a message, fine.

Your message to women: their lives don't matter. Their rights will be completely stripped away, with no agency or choice over their own bodies or lives.

Your message to children: They're expendable. You don’t care about whether their parents will be forced to have them when It is Not right for the parents, causing lifelong trauma both for the parents as well as the unwanted child. But you don’t care. You don’t even care if they eat or have shelter or clean water. Gun violence skyrocketed under Trump's previous reign. You don't care if these children get a good education, let alone if they are slaughtered in schools because someone took their dad's gun. And you’re fine with these children's last moments in this world to be hiding under the corpses of their best friends before they die. I’m sure they’ll appreciate that message of yours.

Your message to the People of Colour: their lives don't matter. They are not really people. It's more important to ~send a message~ than to protect the lives that will be destroyed. The white racist cops will get away with beating the shit out of People of Colour. Children of colour. It’s fine if these people continue to suggest within an extremely racist society with no assistance or reparations. You're knowingly installing a racist psychopath in power. And you do this knowing he's going to lie and accuse immigrants of horrific things with no evidence, and that he's promised to evict every immigrant, documented or undocumented.

Your message to queers: your lives don't matter. You don't care if those people are arrested for being in clothes you don't approve of, even in a night club. You don't care if those people are abused or murdered. You don't care.

Your message to the economy: the billionaires will continue enjoy their billions--soon trillions-- and YOUR taxes will increase instead of theirs. Millions will suffer because they can’t afford to feed their children- or even themselves. Your own taxes will skyrocket. But you know this is going to happen. You know people will be forced to choose between heat and food. Do you think you'll get some of their money if the monster bankrupt fascist "rich" person is in? Because you absolutely will not. Trickle-down economics have been proven time and again not to work. That’s been known since before it was proposed. And you know it doesn’t work. But hey— you’re sending a message, yeah?

Your message the rest of the world: Trump doesn't believe in climate change. Nor does he believe in putting rules on billion and trillion dollar companies as they continue to destroy the only planet in the universe we are certain actually can inhabit life. If you think he's going to stop at just destroying your own people and your own country, you're wrong and you know. How long before he has a tantrum and blows up Puerto Rico?

But hey. You wanna send a message, yeah? Well good for you. What a helluva message to send to the world. And being willing to send these messages just so you can feel smug at the system? Good job. I'm sure everyone affected will be happy for you that you said your piece.

Well done. You sent that message, all right.

With Kamala/Walz going up DAILY, I've seen more people talking about voting third party/Jill Stein (EW) and I believe the above screencaps from @three--rings can explain WHY Third Party votes NEVER work NOR is this the election to screw around in.

Everyone....like she says above.....PLEASE LEARN FROM HISTORY!!!

(Because if Trump gets in, he's NEVER LEAVING).

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ

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

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

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

ꨄ words: 10.5k

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

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎

ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too late,” he whispers back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”

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

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

“How do I look?” you pose playfully.

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

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

“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru clears his throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”

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

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

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

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

“Okay, got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.

Haru barely spares a second glance.

“Nope! The stem is too small.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haru’s face lights up with pride.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re impossible…” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Haru.

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

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

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

“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”

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

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

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

“Promise ‘toru?”

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recognition.

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

No such luck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just us, huh?” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now, that’s all that matters.

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

taglist:

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

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

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

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

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

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

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@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

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

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

[flemingology]

kitbag chronicles ─ alessia russo x reader

in which: you voice your love for alessia through the notes you put in her kitbag

warnings: none, tiniest bit suggestive if you squint

wc: 1.4k

a/n: finally got around to writing something for my number 1. this is so incredibly random and it's all over the place, but idk i lowkey kinda like it... i think? idk i probably shouldn't reread it because i might hate it if i do. hope you enjoy!

Ever since you and Alessia started dating, the England striker had made it very clear that she loved the little things you did for her. Memorising her coffee order, remembering her favourite flowers, new scented candles in her favourite scent on a bi-weekly basis. If you asked Alessia, she would say you were the most thoughtful person she’d ever met.

You’d grown to love the smile you put on your girlfriend’s face with those small displays of affection. You were forever seeking new ways to show your love for her, without stating the obvious over and over again. It kept both of you on your toes, always working on your relationship and making the other fall in love with you over and over again.

The last couple weeks, you'd found something new to do for Alessia. Her busy schedule keeping her away from you almost every single day of the week, you had to find ways to work around it and to remind Alessia that, even when she was at the club, you were thinking about her.

Since a couple months, it had become a little tradition that you prepared Alessia's kitbag. It wasn't much work at all, all she put in there were a shirt and a pair of trousers, or shorts – based on what the weather was like that day in London. You insisted that you did it for her, claiming that that way you felt like she had a little part of you with her during the day.

Today, though, you felt like trying something different. When you were younger, your mum always prepared your lunchbox for when you went to school. To make it a little extra special, she always added a little note for you to discover when you had lunch. It could be something funny, a drawing or simply a reminder how much she loved you – you didn't mind the teasing that came with it from your friends.

You figured it would be something Alessia loved, seen how much she usually liked it when you did little things like that for her. So this morning, after putting the blonde's training top and trousers in her kitbag, you grabbed a note and started writing something down. You decided to keep it simple for your first time of doing this, something you knew would just give Alessia a little spring in her step for the rest of the day. "Go get em, Lessi. Can't wait to have you home with me again tonight," is what you decided on, quickly putting away the pen and putting the piece of paper in her bag before she could see what you were up to.

When Alessia left later that morning, you pushed her kitbag in her hands, as you did every day. With a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips and a quick hug, she was out the door with the promise of cooking together later that night. Love goes through the stomach, or whatever they say.

It was no longer than 30 minutes later when your phone chimed with a message from your blonde lover.

From: Less 🤍 I got the note, baby. So cute. I love you so much :')

You smiled brightly at your phone screen, a warm, fuzzy feeling coursing through you at the idea of Alessia opening her kitbag and finding the note. You quickly typed a message back to her, wanting her to read it before she inevitably had to get her day going at the training centre.

To: Less 🤍 It's true, though. Counting down the hours until you're home, like every day. Go kick ass, my love. x

With you working from home, it had been quite the adjustment. Normally, when Alessia went to the training centre, you'd also leave the apartment and be on your way to your office. But with Alessia's recent transfer to Arsenal, swapping Manchester for London, it wasn't so straightforward anymore for you to go into the office everyday. 2 hours 30 on the train or easily 4 hours by car, it just wasn't doable anymore for a daily job. So you and your boss agreed that you could work from home in London, with one visit to the office a month. You were forever grateful for the opportunity, very glad that you didn't have to find a new job in London, but it brought its hardships too.

Quite frankly, you grew quite bored at home. You had your work, and you always managed to fill the best part of 8 hours with whatever you had to do that day, but the house felt empty without Alessia. A new city, new surroundings, new apartment, you hadn't quite accustomed to it all yet and you hadn't failed to make it known to Alessia that you missed her terribly whenever she was out at training.

Nonetheless, you would never stand in the way between her and her career, it was just another obstacle that you two would have to face and manoeuvre around, but you were certain that you would navigate it perfectly. You had a strong relationship, and everyone around you would probably say that you were made for each other.

With the knowledge gathered that Alessia enjoyed her little note, you took it upon yourself to give her some more frequently. Not every day, because you didn't want her to grow old of them, but you sprinkled some in throughout the week – keeping her on her toes.

It wasn't until one particular morning at the Arsenal training centre that Alessia realized that her notes wouldn't just always be you loving up on her. She'd left you high and dry that morning before leaving, feeling you up and kissing all over your body until her alarm went off. She was reluctant about finishing what she had started, despite your whining when she left you alone in bed and had started getting ready for her day. She didn't want to be late, understandably, but she also left you with a very uncomfortable throbbing between your legs. Her promise of continuing her ministrations later that night hadn't really convinced you, and you decided to tease her a little about it through a note.

This time, unlike all the other times you'd left a note in Alessia's kitbag, you didn't receive a message about. Not just that, the Arsenal striker hadn't texted you all day and you couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about what you did. You didn't want to push it too far, but you were starting to feel like you did. You texted her a little after lunch-time, wishing her a good gym session, but you got left on read.

Later that day, when Alessia came home, you were nervous to approach her. You were upstairs, finishing up on a couple of e-mails, before you went downstairs and joined the blonde who had plopped down on the couch and turned on the football. "Hi, baby," you said softly, pressing a kiss against her cheek. Alessia tried to put on a sour face, but her resolve weakened quickly when you pressed another few kisses all over her face.

"That was mean, you know?" cocking her head at you, eyebrow raised and index finger pointing at you. You couldn't hide the smile that crept on your face. "Don't give me that, Russo! If anyone was mean, it was you. This morning. Leaving me all worked up like that," you reasoned, pointing your index finger right back at her, poking her nose in the process causing a small smile to form on her lips.

"You know what, you're probably right," your girlfriend started, leaning closer towards you and trapping your body in between her arms, positioning the two of you so she was hovering over you on the couch. "That was so incredibly unfair of me and I think it's only right that I get the opportunity to make it up to you."

Alessia dipped her head towards your neck and started pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You hummed and tangled one of your hands into her hair, slightly tugging when you could feel the scrape of her teeth on your sensitive skin. "You're lucky I love you, Russo," you breathed.

"Oh, I know. Now let me show you just how much I appreciate you, please."

[kirozai]

—HSR YANDERES AS TROPES.

Forced Proximity? Soulmates..? Amenesia! Common tropes that always end up happy! Your favorite characters love you so so much! But.. is it in the way you want?...

content warnings: yandere, toxic love, unreliable narrator, descriptions of gore, unrealistic relationships, unwanted PDA, depressive elements, suggestive, gn!reader (maybe ideas for makeup but most of the part is gn) pairing(s): sunday x reader, blade x reader, aventurine x reader, jing yuan x reader word count: around 350-500 each, 2100+ words in all A/N: I got a tiny bit carried away

Aventurine - Amnesia

WHAT’S PLAYING: engravings - Ethan Bortnick

Your eyes are blinded by the casino lights. The sound of chips being thrown and cards being shuffled fills your ears. Things feel so familiar, but at the same time, completely foreign. You turn your eyes to your lover. At least you think he’s your lover.

Two weeks ago you woke up in the dead of night on a hospital bed feeling numb from your head to the tips of your toes. The hospital lights were blinding making you feel dreary. You slowly regained movement by wiggling your fingertips and finally being able to sit up on the comfortable bed. As you gazed around the room you felt shocked to see gold engravings on the trim of the walls. It’s obvious it was a hospital, but it felt too expensive.

And you? You felt out of place.

A nurse walked into your room with a pan of what seemed like a new IV bag and other things like syringes and such. She turned wide-eyed and gasped as she suddenly dropped the pan of expensive medical equipment. You couldn’t make out what she said as she mouthed something out loud. The drowsiness hit you and you passed out.

The next time you woke up to a man sitting beside your bed in the most luxurious clothes you ever laid eyes on. He looked worried, very worried. Realizing you woke up once again his Avgin eyes-

Wait Avgin?...

“Sweetheart! You’ve been out for months. How are you feeling? Is there any pain? How… Can…?” He spoke quickly but after the first couple of sentences, his words faded into mush.

He called you sweetheart though, you deduced he was someone close to you. Someone that must have cared for you. 

But then why do you feel-

Cutting your thoughts you paused. Thinking was causing you too much pain and headache at the moment. You tried to recall what happened. 

And at that moment you realize you couldn’t even recall who you were.

After some time of recovery, you were able to get a couple of things down. The handsome man’s name was Aventurine. He is your lover. (?) You two have been together for quite some time now. You were diagnosed with severe amnesia, but your lover was kind enough to explain everything to you. Although, he was still hesitant to explain what happened to you and the reason why you were in the hospital.

You tried to get something out of the many doctors and nurses, but they seemed… scared.

Aventurine never left your side when other people were around. It was either you and him or no one at all. Leaving you lost and not being able to truly be clear about your condition. Everything went through Aventurine. 

One day during your walk around the large hospital, Aventurine got a call. He looked at it and furrowed his eyebrows, smiled at you, said it was an urgent call, apologized, and left for a brief moment. 

You dragged your IV stand a couple of steps more and abruptly stopped in your tracks as you overheard a pair of nurses talk about… you?

“IPC… they… lies… Aventurine… hiding.” Those were the only few words you were able to make out.

It no longer mattered though because Aventurine’s bright smile found you again and you walked back to your room first. If only you could see the piercing glare that he sent to the nurses. He wouldn’t know what to do if you heard about the fates of them after spreading lies to your pretty head.

After the recovery, you settled in enough to “your life”. Now you sit next to your lover whose luck shines more vibrant than a newborn baby’s laughter. You feel content for the most part.

I wonder if you would still feel content if you were able to take a good look past Aventurine’s perfect poker face. While you sleep he watches you worriedly, wondering if you’ll remember one day. Remember that this perfect love story he crafted isn’t so perfect after all. He wonders how you would react if you were to find out again the atrocities he’s committed in the name of “love”. He holds his chips tightly, but luck has always been on his side.

So tonight like any other night, you’ll smile with no idea of what had occurred in the past. At the end of the day, occasionally it is better to live unaware.

•••

Jing Yuan - Grumpy x Sunshine

WHAT'S PLAYING: Carousel - Melanie Martinez

The Luofu General was known for his joyous laughter and the positivity that he spread throughout the entire planet. He joked and was an infectious smiler. You on the other hand were known as the Yin to his Yang. If Jing Yuan was the sun, you were his moon. It’s adorable on paper, isn’t it?

You do nothing less than agree with the fact that your husband Jing Yuan was very positive. The reason why differed from others though. 

You believed the reason he was so happy was because he sucked every smile, every laugh out of you. 

Your story was the average fairytale, opposite attracts and then they fall in love. The End.

Unfortunately for you, Jing Yuan was anything but ordinary, and maybe that played a part in your perfect tragedy. 

Jing Yuan loved you. You knew that for sure. He had always been a PDA person, always close to you and you would most likely be seen dead than without his arm around your waist. It wasn’t a big deal though. This is what lovers usually do right?

Until you tried to back away. Things got… messy. 

Arguments ensued and you realized that he never really treated you as an equal. He loved you, yes, but he viewed you as lesser and somehow put you on a pedestal at the same. exact. time.

“You don’t respect me.” You stated firmly.

“But I love you.” He replied as if nothing was wrong.

You never thought your husband to be a jealous person and truly he was not. The possessiveness is what got you through.

It began small from making excuses on why you shouldn’t go out,

“It’s my day off!” or “It might rain soon.” Both are lazy excuses you’ve heard again and again. Yet you still seemed to fall again and again for his sunshine charms and wits.

You were the perfect lover to Jing Yuan, loving, kind, and malleable to believe whatever he wanted you to believe.

At some point after the large argument you two shared, you didn’t remember the last time when you had left the estate. 

You felt stuck, stuck on a carousel that kept going around and around and stuck trying to read between the lines of Jing Yuan’s perfect facade. If you caught him at the wrong time you wouldn’t see him for days and when he would return he would haphazardly apologize with the stupidest excuses. 

You never raised your voice anymore after THAT argument though. You were too scared to. So even when he scratches his name into your skin, even if he hugs you so tightly to the point that you feel like your lungs are collapsing, you find excuses for him. For yourself. To make this entire relationship work

Because you love him.

And you don’t not what scares you more anymore. The slight warning in his tone and the ever-present toxicity seeping its way into your originally “perfect” marriage. 

Or.

The fact you’ll still stay even if it gets worse.

Why?

Because you love him.

•••

Blade - Forced Proximity.

WHAT’S PLAYING: This is Love - Black Box

There’s blood on the walls, the floors, and even on the couch. Anything you’ve been able to find you’ve smashed onto the ground. Your hands are covered in blood. No worries to Blade though. He sits on the couch covered in the blood of a man. Your eyes flicker to the dead body right in front of you. The now dead man who tried to help you escape from this prison Blade oh so lovingly calls “your” home to no avail.

Blade’s red eyes stare into the distance of space. Perhaps he’s wondering what he should do next for your transgressions. Perhaps he is wondering what he can do to make you smile again. Or maybe, he doesn’t care. Maybe he finds happiness and contentedness in your suffering. After all, a being who is forever stricken by mara might find peace in others' pain. 

But.

Past this mara-stricken being is a man who does have some semblance of love for you. Blade knew your every like and dislike. He would trail kisses up your neck and on your lips. You’d joke together. You both were disgustingly domestic at times. At least that’s what appeared. Loving Blade wasn’t difficult when every moment you breathed you were near him. 

You wear outfits perfectly fitted to your style sponsored by your self-proclaimed lover himself. Anything you want you’ll get. Jewels, clothing, books, anything you could ever desire. It’s nothing but pocket money for the Stellaron Hunter. 

Your mascara has been smudged after all the tears. Your sniffles fill up the room, you look at your palms. Hands covered in scratches and blisters from broken glass and accidental burns. You don’t have to worry though, Blade will patch it all up for you. This situation will fade into the past just like all the others. Your head peaks again at the dismembered and maimed body on the floor. You stop breathing yet again. You shut your eyes and open them once again when you feel a warm breath on your neck. 

It’s Blade, you can tell that the mara had warned off him. He tightens his arms around your body and somehow pulls you closer than he ever did before in your “relationship”. You blink once again as a tear rolls down your cheek and pray to any Aeon out there for help. Despite this, you're well aware it’s no use. There’s no place in the universe where Blade won’t find you. So you close your eyes to hum a broken chord as you prepare for the cycle to begin again.

•••

Sunday - Soulmates

WHAT’S PLAYING: Butch 4 Butch - Rio Romeo

Fairytale love stories where the prince and the princess lived happily ever after were something that you grew up with on your home planet. As you grew up though, “soulmates” left your mind. Other things like making credits and exploring the galaxies were more on your agenda than finding “true love”.

True love was a fairytale. Something that didn’t exist and that’s what you stood by ever since.

Ever since your planet was destroyed by its inhabitants. If people couldn’t love the homes they lived in how could they ever love one another?

You enjoyed travel, you enjoyed learning about other planets, cultures, and people. You didn’t have time for the nonexistent love. Though you enjoyed hearing the stories of it. You’ve met others who found their “soulmates”, their one and only blessed by the Aeons themselves. 

On your travel across the world, you stumbled on Penacony, The Planet of Dreams and Entertainment. The perfect and endless days are what brought you in the most. You could be there for days on end but turn out to only spend a couple of hours outside in the “real world”.

Real world huh?

You think you miss the real world a little bit. 

“Are the pastries not to your liking love?” Sunday inquires.

“They’re… fine.” You reply.

Sunday smiles. You don’t know what it means though. He smiles at everything, he smiles at gatherings, at your laughter, and even at the tears you desperately try to hold in. He thinks of you as something to be protected, something that should be kept safe in a cage, away from the tainted lies of others.

Everything feels uncomfortable, from the moment you met Sunday you felt an odd gravitational pull towards him. It was truly as if he was your soulmate. 

Except,

Something begged you to run away, something deep in the back of your soul. It all went away when you laid eyes on him though. 

You wish you listened to your fight AND flight response.

Everything you wear is coordinated by the Head of the Oak Family. From the tiniest detail to your entire personality. Sunday is a firm believer that only the true you can come out behind closed doors, with locks only he has access to. His mansion was the perfect enrichment for a now flightless bird like you. 

Perhaps the fairytales were somewhat true. The prince and the princess always seemed to stay forever together.

[innerfare]

Gross - Law 

Summary: A short drabble in which Captain Law is down bad for a member of his crew who has a bad habit of chewing on pens.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Reader

Genre: Fluff

CW: SFW // None, just the tiniest bit suggestive

Word Count: 668

———

Law didn’t normally pay much attention to the pen he grabbed, but since you had joined the crew, he found himself searching for the ones you used. He could always tell which pens you had used because you had a horrible habit of chewing on the end when you were concentrating. 

When he found one, the end chewed up like an animal had gotten to it, he scrunched up his nose in disgust- not at the pen, but at himself. 

Had he really been reduced to this? 

He regretted asking you to join the crew, but the only thing worse than having you on his crew was not having you on his crew. The smell of your fruity shampoo, the sound of your laugh, the way you got so excited that you bounced a bit when you talked to him about the research you were conducting on bioluminescent algae in the Grand Line. Oh, and the fact that you sometimes touched him. 

He could count on one hand the number of times you had touched him. The first was the time you squeeze past him in the hall and placed your hand on his back as you did. The second was the time you sat next to each other at dinner and your legs were pressed together. The third was the time you asked him to hand you a microscope slide in the laboratory and your fingers brushed; sure, you’d been wearing rubber gloves, but it still counted. And when he reached under your shirt to get your heartbeat during checkups… well, he was harboring guilt over the thoughts that entered his mind when he was supposed to be administering medical care. 

And then there was your habit of chewing on writing implements. 

He gritted his teeth and stared down at the pen. The first time he’d used yours, it had been an accident. He’d been in the middle of taking some notes on a medical journal and looked down to find the end all chewed up. After that, he had been on a crusade to figure out which member of his crew had such a disgusting habit, but as soon as he discovered you were the one responsible, he had changed his tune. 

Standing there with the pen in his hand, he ran his thumb over the tip, imagining it was your lips, wondering what it would feel like to dip his thumb into your mouth.  

“Hey, Captain.” 

Law nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around, dropping the pen on the floor with a clatter. His eyes widened a fraction of an inch when he saw you in the doorway. 

Your brows shot up when he dropped the pen. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” You entered the room and bent down in front of him to retrieve the pen. 

Law looked down at you and held his breath. When you slowly rose to your feet once more, looking up at him with those innocent doe eyes, he thought he might go into cardiac arrest. 

“I’ll buy you some new pens.” 

“Huh?” 

You blinked. “New pens. Since I ruined this one.” You looked sheepish. “It’s a bad habit, I know. I’m trying to stop, but…” 

“It’s… fine.” Law wracked his brain for something else to say, but the organ had short circuited as soon as you entered the room. And then he caught a whiff of your fruity shampoo. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat but to no avail. 

“Okay, we’ll…” You shifted from foot to foot and cleared your throat. “I’ll see you at dinner, I guess.” With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Law alone with the scent of your shampoo. 

As soon as you were gone, he let out the longest sigh of his life. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a crease forming between his brows. “Gross,” he told himself, sickened by his perverse desire to grasp the pen you’d chewed on. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[muffinpink02]

i take your suggestions and raise you...

the first time you're sleeping with alexia, right? it's been a month or two since you started dating and somehow that line has never been crossed. after training one time, she's dressed still in her kit with those tiny black shorts that somehow make her ass look better than it already is, you cant resist. and luckily she's thinking the same about you too.

you dance around each other, recognizing the look in each other's eyes but still having those first time nerves. until, after some teasing back and forth, you push her to sit on the sofa and straddle her thighs, gaze getting caught on how her shorts had ridden up the muscle there in the process. but before you could do a thing about that, her hand is gripping the back of your neck and pulling you down for a kiss, where she instantly slips her tongue in after nipping your bottom lip, and you can't help but whimper at it. it goes on and on, hands gliding all over each other, hers travelling from your thighs to your hips to your ass and back again, yours tugging at the baby hairs on her neck to pull out those addictive groans from her.

after a little while, her hands gently push against your shoulders, breaking the kiss, she's all breathless and lips kissed red and a little wet, and you whine at the fact she broke it off. so you grab her jaw and tilt her head to one side, attaching your mouth to that vein on her neck. she groans and chastises you under her breath and her grip on the back of your neck is tighter than ever as she reluctanly pulls you away again. "what do you like? what do you want? tell me what you want us to do." she asks.

"you can do anything you want to me." you tell her with a smirk, her staring at you frozen for a second before she pulls you tight to her and stands, her hands shamelessly placed on your ass cheeks and her fingertips digging in so much there'll probably be bruises that'll have you blushing the next morning. she gets to the bedroom and carefully lays you down before knocking your legs apart with her knee and slotting herself inbetween them immediately.

rather than kissing you like you wanted, she just gazes down at you, her hands beside your head and her lips millimeters from yours before she chuckles softly, menacingly, like she's an animal looking at its next meal. her mouth bypasses yours and heads straight for your neck, one of her hands sliding under the hem of your shirt and drifting upwards.

now, for the sake of not making this too long, you can fill in the gaps, but...

before you know it, she's sat back against the headboard, you in her lap in much the same way as earlier on the sofa. this time, however, her legs are slightly spread on purpose, so that when your thighs are on the outside of hers, she's got you wide open for her to play with. she's already made you cum once with her mouth, and you've had her too, but since then she's pushed you to the edge but never over. the first time she edged you, you were more than compliant. the second time too. but the third, as one of her hands switched between each of your tits and the fingers of the other pressed in and out of your cunt, she had told you to rub your own clit. when you told her you were near the edge, just as she had demanded you do, she stopped. but your hand didn't. she grabbed it instead and slotted your wet fingers into your mouth as she sucked her own slick digits to get a taste of you. the look in her eyes had your own rolling back, whimpers leaving your hoarse throat but muffled by her thick fingers.

but now, as you grow closer to coming for the fourth time in a row, your hands restless and moving from place to place on her body, she speeds up. her thumb is incessantly rubbing tight circles on your clit as three fingers of the same hand thrust in and out, her forearm and bicep muscles all flexing addictively, you can hardly tear your eyes away. the only thing that can make you is her telling you to look into her eyes as you cum. your heart drops when she slows down again, you'd do anything to cum at this point, so you look at her and drop your forehead against hers, desperate breathy pleas leaving your mouth every second without realising. all she does is laugh, teasingly, mockingly, smug and cocky with how she's turned you into mush in only the first time together. it's then, as she speeds up again, her fingers pressing deeper and deeper, that you notice the tightness in your stomach doesn't feel like it does normally. you tell her, she smirks. the feeling is overwhelming, and you drop your head to her shoulder, forgetting her earlier demand but she doesn't mind, because by the throbbing of your pussy and the wet sounds coming from it, she knows she's about to get what she set out for. her other hand that's not fucking you halfway to hell moves from its tight grip on your thigh and creeps up your back, her mouth moving to your ear and whispering the most filthy words you'd ever heard as her hand lands on the back of your head, tugging at your hair and relishing in the loud moan you respond with. she does it again, and again, and again, feeling your cunt grow impossibly wetter and tight, your moans turning into quiet, desperate cries and whimpers, until you grow silent. she carries on with her ministrations, the only sounds her panting from her work and the wet slide of her fingers and her occasional dirty comments. how wet you are, how good you sound for her, how tight your pussy is and how good you're being for her.

then, the coil snaps inside of you. you bite down on her shoulder but not even that stops the high-pitched, breathless moan you let out that seems to never end. alexia groans too, loud and animalistic in your ear which somehow prolongs your intense orgasm. it never ends; alexia's arm, the sheets under you both, gets soaked as you cum harder than you had ever before. it's a feeling that has euphoria coursing through your veins as it carries on, alexia's fingers pruning at this point from the sheer amount of it. her eyes are wide as she feels it, but then she looks down, her fingers still sliding in and out of you but slower now, her thumb on your clit carrying you through it, and she doesn't think she'll ever not think about this moment for the rest of her life.

your hand comes down and grasps at her wrist, willing her to stop, too sensitive to enjoy it now, and she pulls out with care, her dry hand moving to hold you close against her, the other quickly moving to dry against the more than ruined sheets as all she wants to do is take care of you now, to check up on you. she asks if you're okay, having not moved a muscle other than the up and down of your chest, completely and thoroughly wrecked. all you can do is wrap your arms around her and nod, the up and down movement of her fingertips on your back grounding you. fin.

look, all im saying is, the perfect payment for this is for you to take the whole thing and turn it into your own fic😤 that is a joke of course! but if you want to though, you're absolutely more than free too. hope it lived up to your expectations🫡 much love muffin im more than happy to help you out, in awe of your work and you as a human being overall, forehead smooches🫂

OMGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!! You got my feet kicking!!! This is so fucking hot 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

I love that her neck vein made an appearance 🫠🫠🫠🫠 erghhhhhh. This was perfect!!! I can’t believe you wrote this so quickly and so beautifully! I fucking love it!! this has just made my day/week and month!

Turn it into my own fic? Babes, this is its own fic!! It’s got everything 🤤 and hair pulling you’re an absolute queen! Thank you for writing this! I feel privileged to have this written for me and I genuinely love it!! ❤️ 🥹 stopppp ittttt, you’ve got me blushing. Your the cutest human and I appreciate all your kindness you’ve sent my way, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart 🫂

[canihaveacalmtime]

You met a boy back at secondary, you remember he was around your height at the time, heck he was also looking as depressed as you now but we'll get back to that later.

You remember he was being bullied by the popular groups around the school because he looked like a freak that always studies and read books. Though, you saw him as a normal human, not as how he dressed up and on the other hand, you were also a coward at the time so you could only chose to help him after the bullies had gone.

By the last year of secondary, the boy changed into an intirely different person and actually listened to what you suggested him to wear, what type of hair fits him and how he should make his appearance more attractive to others. You really enjoyed the last year with him and not have to worry about those bullies anymore. For him, he thinks that even after this year, you and him can still be friends for the next many years but for you, this is the last year that you will live here as so many things had happened with your family life that forced you to move back to the countryside, you don't even know when you'll move back to the city but seeing you friend looking so happy right now, you didn't even had the courage to tell him anything about your leaving.

But the day he found out about you leaving, it was already too late. As he hold the letter in his hand, trying hard to not tear it apart, a part inside him begin to develop an obsession to get you back, to make you come back and to have you back in his arms again.

.

.

.

You eventually returned back to the busy city streets after 6 years long and for the next 2 years, you've been working under a CEO's assistant so consider that, your rank is just right above the servants and under everyone else.

But more over, you knew who your CEO was the moment you met him for the first time or is it really the first time for you? But to be honest, you didn't knew the boy that's just around your height back then, shy and timid can grow up to become such a man that sits above every one else.

Of course, he doesn't recognized you, you've changed too much either in a good or bad way, it's so hard to say you back then and now are the same but especially, you didn't actually want him to recognize you. You basically left him in the cruelest way possible a friend could do so you can't imagine how horrible of a life he could give you if he finds out about your old identity.

Unfortunately for you, the CEO's second in command one day asked for all the workers' profile to be recheck and your 'friend' learned about who you really are but as a calculate person, he chose to observe first before proceeding any actions. As the more he observed, the more negative details he saw like how you always look sleep deprived and have a habit of hugging your head during a chaotic events like monthly worker training or party arrangements, all of those reminds him so much of his old self.

He tried to approach you, to help you like how you help him back then but a coward will always be a coward as you always intentionally avoid him. The moment you see him in your sight, you act like someone has called you or just simply turn around and walk somewhere else.

.

.

.

The avoiding went on for a long while until one night, you were ordered to come into his office for a talk but when you arrived, the scene in front of you made you frozen in place and not even dare to move an inch.

On the floor was his old bullies, tied up and continuously begging for mercy while your boss, the CEO, just standing there menacingly with his favorite gun in his hand. You hsve seen him using it in the practice ground countless times and even familiar with whenever he use it on someone but that is just hearing from the outside not witnessing it like this.

Before you can react, one of them was shot in the head and was now on the ground. One by one, they fall down upon the CEO's bullets begin shot and the moment the last one was shot, you immediately book it out of there only to eat a bullet straight at your left leg before you can even reach the doorknob and fall down onto the wood floor.

What shock you more was that he still remembered when you told him about how your left leg is much weaker than the other one and is now using your own weakness against you.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have said anything important about you to me."

His leather shoes clanking on the floor as he slowly walk over to you laying on the floor, who is hugging their head trying to figure out what had just happened seconds ago.

"Seeing you laying there so helpless and in pain really make me both satisfied as a revenge and sad but it has to be done, right? Can't have you keep on running away from me forever."

Your vision begins to fade away as he pick up your body in a bridal style and the last thing you feel before completely falling asleep was a kiss placed on your forehead in a very tender way.

"Sweet dreams, the light of my life."

---------------------------

I know I barely uploads anything often but as my #1 excuse: life is hard 😔

[marvelfanfics1]

Scary Admirer

Pairing: dark!daddy!rafe x kook!little!reader

Warnings: age regression, dark themes, murder, stalking, reader is naive

A/N: not sure if I like this 😭 but omg thank you sm for 4,3k followers 🥹🫶🏻

Rafe laid eyes on you two months ago when he spotted you at a party, admiring you dance and twirl in your pastel colored dress, two small bows decorating your simple hairstyle.

You seemed so soft, such a contrast to his appearance and personality which is the reason he felt so drawn to you in the first place.

In that very night he introduces himself to you, putting on his charming smile as he holds out his hand. "Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you..." He trails off and you tell him your name with an adorable smile, shaking his hand.

He repeats your name in a murmer, testing it on his tongue.

Since then he made it his mission to get to know you more, not that you already share practically everything with him because you feel like you can trust him.

Your friends keep warning you to stay away from him, saying that the kook prince is bad news and that you should be wary of him.

Despite your better judgement you think that they just don't really know him, I mean he's so nice to you since the beginning and there must be a reason he shows that certain side of him to you only.

You like Rafe and you both start getting closer, spending time with each other but you're just friends doing things they normally do, right?

Oh if only you knew his true intentions.

Rafe studies everything you do, your routines, appointments, the people you surround yourself with and he goes furious anytime he sees you talking to a pogue, especially if it's a man, you being your usual bubbly self while that prick keeps staring at your chest shamelessly.

He often has to protect you as he claims, scolding you for being too trusting with everyone and suggest that you should stay near him for your own safety.

When the news of recent killings in Kildare goes around about witnesses who saw a person completely dressed in black and wearing a ghostface mask leaving the crime scenes, you started to not leave your house as much as before, avoiding going out after it gets dark.

The thing that scares you the most is that you have some kind of connection to every person that has been killed.

Since those deaths you've been regressing a lot more due to the fear and stress that comes with anytime you turn on your tv or scroll on your phone because no one can stop talking about it.

It took Rafe three weeks to find out about your age regression, only able to confirm his suspicion after you started inviting him over more often and he got the possibility to go through your room whenever you left to either go to the bathroom or get something.

He went through everything.

Your drawers where he found a certain one that only held more childish clothes with different prints and all in pastel colors.

Under your bed where he found a box decorated with stickers and took a peek of its contents, a smirk forming on his face when he sees a set of pacifiers, coloring books and crayons, stickers, and a bottle.

"Interesting..." He mutters, quickly pushing the box back under your bed when he hears your footsteps approaching the room again.

One evening you lay on your stomach on your plush bed and coloring contently in your hello kitty books with some crayons sprawled around, not knowing about the dark figure looming in your yard and watching you through your window.

Rafe smiles as he sees you reaching under your bed to retrieve a pacifier from your secret box, slipping it into your mouth.

He pulls out his phone, his mask and knife held in his other hand as he snaps a few pictures of you.

You're blissfully unaware of your supposed friend being literally outside, too engrossed in your littlespace.

Outside Rafe sees you getting up from your bed and over to your attached bathroom, closing the door behind you. That was his chance.

Rounding the house to the front door he crouches down for the spare key that he knows is hidden under the mat.

After finishing your night routine in the bathroom you open the door again, yawning as you approach your bed, stopping in your tracks at the printed out pictures laying on your bed.

Taking a better glance at them your heart beats faster when you realize they're all pictures of you...some where you're in your room, others from when you were walking around Kildare or at parties, and what made your stomach drop was the ones where you obviously were in littlespace.

"Nice shots, don't you think?" A sudden low distorted voice from behind you has you freezing and before you could react, a hand clamped over your mouth, a broad chest pressing against your back. "Shh, shh, none of that."

You whimper in fear, instinctively reaching up to grasp onto the arm that was holding you against the stranger.

"I've been watching you for a while now, y'know. Tell me, isn't it tiring to take care of yourself? To know that no one will be good enough to be your daddy?" He asks and you feel tears pricking in your eyes. "All those idiots I got rid of just because they didn't know how to treat someone as special as you..."

Your muffled pleading makes him chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"Imma let go of you now, but don't try and think of anything stupid, got it?" He warns you, his hold on you a little firmer and you nod shakily. "Good girl."

He takes off his mask, throwing it on the bed before he pulls his hand away, taking a step back. Even if you wanted you wouldn't get out a single sound, too afraid to even move.

The you so thought stranger places a hand on your shoulder, slowly turning you to face him and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach at who's standing in front of you. "R-Rafe?"

You take a hesitant step back, the back of your knees hitting your bed. "I- I don't understand...wha-"

"I know, but you don't need to worry." He speaks softly, stepping closer and reaching a hand up to trace the side of your face with his fingers, grabbing your chin to tilt your head up slightly to meet his gaze, a smile creeping on his face.

He gently wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb, leaning down to kiss your forehead, the action meant to be comforting but the words that leave him do the opposite.

"Daddy's here now..."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[rvmoviest]

my girlfriend is a witch

witch! reader x karina

Karina's girlfriend had ghosted her on Halloween, leaving her feeling abandoned and confused. But that unexpected silence ultimately led Karina to uncover Y/N’s biggest secret—a revelation that turned everything she thought she knew about their relationship upside down.

1358 words (may do a part 2 but i don't know)

October 31st, Halloween night—a thrilling time to be with friends, hitting up parties after a cozy evening of horror movies, hot chocolate, and pumpkin-shaped cookies. But for Karina, the day was anything but fun. It was all because her lovely girlfriend had texted her last minute: "can't hang out today, enjoy with the girls. love you, baby <3."

Of course, she loved spending time with her friends, but not when she was the only one without her partner. Seeing Yizhuo cuddled up with her girlfriend made her miss Y/N's warm embrace; watching Minjeong bake those pumpkin cookies with her partner only reminded her of how Y/N would wrap her arms around her from behind whenever they cooked together. And the hardest part? Watching Aeri get showered with kisses when all she wanted was her Y/N by her side. The entire evening, Karina couldn’t help but complain, wishing she could just be with the one person she truly wanted there with her.

Karina had hoped things would get better by nightfall—maybe a party, a few drinks, and then she’d crash at home. But instead, she felt even more irritated. First off, she hated her eyeliner; Y/N usually did it for her and always made it look perfect, way better than she could manage herself. And then there was the fact that her girlfriend hadn’t texted her all day after that one message: “Can’t hang out today, enjoy with the girls. Love you, baby <3.” What could possibly be keeping her so busy that she couldn’t even send a quick follow-up text? The more she thought about it, the more it got under her skin.

The final straw came when Karina passed by Y/N’s house on the way to the party. She noticed Y/N’s car parked in the driveway, lights on, and faint voices coming from inside. Her heart dropped. Y/N couldn’t be cheating on her… right? The thought made her stomach twist, and she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was off.

“You should stop by,” Aeri suggested, swirling a cup of vodka in her hand. “I mean, she’s your girlfriend. She should let you know what’s going on.”

“Maybe she just needs some time to herself,” Yizhuo offered, then paused, remembering. “Like on her birthday, when she left the party super early and… yeah. You should go check on her.”

Being in a relationship with Y/N had always been… strange. She’d disappear unexpectedly, only to come back like nothing happened. Sometimes, she’d talk to herself or even to animals. Once, Karina had woken up in the middle of the night to find Y/N muttering something in the bathroom amid strange noises. But despite the oddities, Karina could hardly imagine her girlfriend cheating. Y/N treated her like a queen—gifts, regular date nights, help with college work, and fierce loyalty against anyone who dared give her a hard time. Yet, the thought lingered, making her question: Could she?

After a couple of beers and some persuasion from her friends, Karina finally decided to head to Y/N’s house. Y/N shared the place with five other girls—all seniors in college: Joohyun, Seulgi, Wendy, Sooyoung, and Yeri. They were all undeniably gorgeous, but Y/N had always reassured her, saying, “They’re like family; I’d never date any of them.”

Normally, Karina would believe her without a second thought. But tonight, with a few drinks swirling in her system and jealousy creeping in, she couldn’t shake the memory of how Seulgi always seemed to dote on her girlfriend, stopping by her room to offer snacks or just to hang out. What if… Y/N was cheating on her with Seulgi? The thought made Karina’s heart race as she approached the door.

Karina knocked once, then twice. She could hear the girls’ voices inside, but no one came to open the door. Luckily, she knew about the spare key hidden in the plant pot by the door. She grabbed it and quietly let herself in, the voices inside abruptly falling silent.

“Someone’s inside,” she heard one of the voices say.

Before she could think of hiding, a sharp knife flashed near her neck—a prop, she realized, held by a girl in a purple cape. The girl pulled off her hat, revealing Yeri, one of Y/N’s roommates, staring at her in shock.

“What the hell?” Yeri muttered, her eyes wide. “Y/N, why is your girlfriend here?”

“My girlfriend?” came Y/N’s voice, and then she appeared, draped in a red cape. Her face twisted in confusion as she looked at Karina. “Rina, what are you doing here?”

Karina could have tried to play it cool, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them.

“Y/N, are you cheating on me?”

"I’m… what?!"

"Guys, can we please get back to the ritual? The guy’s about to wake up," Seulgi said, appearing in a yellow cape before noticing Karina. "Oh, hey, Karina."

"Can we take a break? Like, half an hour? I need to get Rina home," Y/N said, slipping off her cape to reveal a skin-tight black dress that made Karina momentarily forget her suspicions. How was her girlfriend this gorgeous?

Y/N walked over and took Karina’s hands, guiding her toward the front door. But as they passed the living room, Karina caught a glimpse of a guy tied up and sound asleep on the coffee table. Before she could react, Y/N quickly covered her eyes and ushered her outside.

"What the hell is going on?" Karina demanded, stopping in her tracks and forcing Y/N to stop too. "First, you disappear all day, then there’s some weird cult thing happening in your house, and I saw a guy tied up in the middle of the room! Can you please explain?"

Y/N stayed silent, her gaze fixed on the moon as she bit her lip, hesitating.

“It’s… complicated,” Y/N said, letting go of Karina’s hands and brushing her hair back. She took a deep breath before meeting Karina’s eyes and finally said, “Rina, I’m a witch.”

Karina’s first reaction was to laugh—hard. She doubled over, tears spilling from her eyes, until she realized Y/N was watching her in complete silence.

“You mean, like… a Halloween witch? Right?” she asked, still chuckling.

“Rina, there was a literal guy tied up in my living room.”

“As a joke?”

“As in, he’s an asshole incel and a virgin and we’re offering his blood to Satan,” Y/N deadpanned.

“Yeah, right.” Karina rolled her eyes. “Can you please be serious now?”

Y/N sighed, then lowered her hands to her sides and whistled sharply. Karina was about to ask what she was doing when, suddenly, a broom flew across the yard and landed right in Y/N’s hand.

“I know it’s weird,” Y/N said softly. “But I love you, and I don’t want us to break up just because of who I am.”

Karina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re… actually a witch?” she stammered, staring at the broom in her girlfriend’s hand. “Like, brooms, hats, and—God forbid—pacts with the devil?”

“Kind of.” Y/N said with a shrug, a small, nervous smile playing on her lips.

There she was, standing in front of the girl she loved, who wasn’t cheating on her but was preparing to sacrifice a guy in her living room. Y/N wasn’t betraying her with someone else; she was making pacts with the devil. And here was Karina, raised Catholic and grappling with all of this.

But despite the absurdity of it all, she realized she had never loved anyone like she loved Y/N, and she had never felt as cherished as Y/N made her feel. Maybe she could handle a little insanity for the sake of their love, right?

“Can you fly?” Karina asked, looking down at her feet, completely unaware of the enormous smile spreading across her girlfriend’s face.

“Yes, I can,” Y/N replied, whistling again. The broom started to hover beside her. “Do you want a ride home?”

And how could Karina possibly say no to that?

[marlynnofmany]

Little Legends

Eggskin leaned out of the medbay with both scaly hands full of disassembled electronics. “Are you free to run a quick errand?” they asked with the air of someone hoping the answer was yes.

“Sure,” I said, stopping in the hall. “Did something break?”

“I thought it was fixable, but no.” Eggskin rotated a couple pieces and fit them back together, revealing what looked like part of a medscanner. “Waste of time. At least this isn’t the good one for diagnosing, just the one for checking boxes. But we do need a replacement if you can get it.”

I mentally ran down the list of stores I’d spotted on this space station. “Yeah, I think I saw an electronics place that should have those. And we’re not going to leave for a while yet.”

“Excellent, thank you.” Eggskin looked relieved. “I’d go myself, but I have several other items in need of a tune-up.”

“No problem. I’ll let the captain know, then be right on it.” With a wave from me and further thanks from Eggskin, I headed off to find the captain.

Warm light spilled from the crew lounge as I passed. I mentally patted myself on the back for moving my sun lamp in there for everybody to enjoy. Humans may need their vitamin D, but Heatseekers craved warmth, and didn’t always want to ask for it. Paint was currently curled up on the biggest couch, along with Telly: a pile of mottled orange scales and mismatched fur. The cat had also started in just my quarters but moved on to spend time in the rest of the ship.

They looked awfully happy there in the light of the tiny, hovering, artificial sun. Maybe I’d bring a book in and take a seat on the other couch later. Right now, I had a bio-scanner to find. And while it would have been perfectly ironic for Captain Sunlight to be basking in the lounge as well, she was elsewhere.

I found her in the cargo bay, double-checking a new stack of boxes with Zhee. She held a clipboard in her scaly yellow hands while he moved things with his shiny purple pincher arms. They were a study in contrasts. When I told her where I was going, she was glad to hear it.

“Eggskin said there was something wrong with that scanner,” she agreed with a nod. “I wondered why they were using the good one earlier. Go ahead; I’ll make a note of the payment.”

“Righto.” I left the pair of them to rearrange the boxes, trusting that the captain would remember to note the payment later. Her memory was good, and she’d been in charge of the finances even before getting promoted. (The previous captain had only been good at delegating. When he got politely booted off the ship for incompetence, everyone agreed that Sunlight should take over. She hadn’t felt like giving someone else more work to do when she was already familiar with the ship’s record-keeping, so she just did both.) (She was good at both. It worked out well.)

I was good at other things, and one of them was recognizing when human-run stores were likely to have quality products. Luckily there was one such store in the nearest commerce sector.

I left the ship and strolled along a moving sidewalk at a delightfully fast pace, passing station-goers of a range of species, many of which were content with regular walking speed. One Mesmer rushed past in a blur of coppery bug legs, exoskeleton liberally decorated with metal inlays and their attitude suggesting they were late for a flight. The various Heatseekers, Frillians, and others gave them a wide berth.

The hum of a high-end jetpack made me duck, worrying I’d get accidentally kicked in the head. But no, it was higher than I’d thought. And the human using it only had one leg, which probably helped my odds anyway.

I wonder if that came from the same place I’m going, I thought. It seemed likely, since my destination was just coming into view past the big media store. Under the space station’s vaulted ceiling and silver-and-blue color scheme, the “Earthly Electronics Emporium” was an eyecatching collection of green circuitry. The big front windows had a whole section on jetpacks and hover-belts. I wondered if they were made by the same manufacturer as the ones Captain Sunlight had been looking into for a client.

Possibly. But we didn’t want to wipe out all the stock in this place, not when the client was content to wait while we gathered the rest of their order from the planet we were scheduled to visit next.

All in good time. Right now, bio-scanners.

I stepped off the moving sidewalk with a careful eye for momentum, and I didn’t stumble. Upholding human reputation, go me. With my head high, I entered the Earthly Electronics Emporium.

It was very green inside too. Not quite as bright as the outside, but somebody had really decided to lean in on the color scheme. I strolled between green shelves designed to look like circuit boards, on green tiles that glittered with LEDs, under ceiling lights that were mostly white, just with enough green paint around them that they could have been green too. At least the labels were easy to read.

There were a few other people in the store: mostly a group of humans chatting by the counter. It sounded like one was teaching the others a space shanty, which just made me smile.

Then I found what I was looking for, and I grinned in triumph. Got it. Let’s see here … “Good for everything from fleas to termites to truly exotic problems.” That sounds promising. I read the label thoroughly, and decided it was exactly what our courier ship needed for checking the crates we brought onboard. We hadn’t had to deal with an accidental infestation yet — well, not one that a cat or two couldn’t solve — and we didn’t want to.

I took it up to the counter.

When I got there, I was surprised to recognize the guy singing the shanty. When he caught sight of me, he broke off with a smile. “Hey, good to see you! Thanks so much for the advice; the animal calls and the caffeine went perfectly.”

“Awesome! Good to see you too!” I set down the scanner so I could return the handclasp-and-hug while he introduced me to his friends, including the guy behind the counter.

He told them, “This is the one I told you about, the human who’s done everything!”

“Well,” I said humbly, getting immediately talked over as Oscar told the others about how his large and intimidating alien crewmates had been disappointed that he didn’t live up to all the stories they’d heard about human antics, which had all, somewhat embarrassingly, been about me.

“But then she told me that imitating animal calls was impressive — and it was; I called in things for them to hunt, and they were amazed — and she’s the one who told me that the Mighty were lightweights on caffeine.” He grinned while they all chuckled. “You already know how that went!”

I was privately glad to see him so animated and social, since the only other time we’d met, he’d been pretty dejected about his lot in life. I asked for details on his adventures and he was happy to tell them, with the other humans chipping in to add that they touched base regularly now, since Oscar’s ship was making regular stops at this station, and most of them lived here.

“Are you staying long?” Oscar asked me. “You should really meet Aster. He’s been writing songs about human stuff, and he’s probably got some of your legends in there. He just started one about caffeine, thanks to me!” He beamed in pride.

“That’s great! I’d love to, but we’re leaving in a little bit,” I said. “Maybe next time we stop by.”

“I hope so! His songs are really good. I was just telling these guys about the new one. Have you heard it yet?” He launched into a melody. “Thiiiiis pirate ship was the scourge of the spaceways, stealing goods with their threats and their gunplay. The scariest ship that you ever did see … Until they met the skunk.”

I snorted and covered my mouth, eyes wide. I didn’t want to say it, but somehow he guessed.

“Don’t tell me,” Oscar declared, stopping the song. “Somehow that was you too.”

“Not directly,” I protested. “And maybe there are other skunks out there! Keep going.”

He sang the rest of the song, which told the story of some foolhardy pirates who didn’t believe the rumors of a merchant vessel with a hazardous Earth creature onboard. They wound up having to abandon their ship and let it fall into the nearest sun, ending their days as “the smelliest ne-er-do-wells that planet had ever seen.”

I applauded along with everyone else. “That is a great song! And I don’t know if that’s the skunk I knew or not. I did give one to a human on a merchant ship. But it had its stink gland removed, so maybe it’s a different one.”

An older woman laughed. “Or maybe Aster took some storytelling liberties with the song. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Oscar shook his head, still grinning. “Maybe!”

Then it turned into a storytelling session about skunk anecdotes, and while I could have happily enjoyed that conversation for quite a while, I did have a ship to get back to.

The guy behind the counter rang up the sale for me, charging it to the ship’s account successfully. “What a great name,” he said, reading off his screen. “Gotta love a ship called Slap the Stars.”

I told him, “It was named after the human tradition of high fives!” That derailed the conversation even further, and it was with real regret that I had to leave.

A couple of the others said they had places to go as well. Casual hugs for everyone, and suddenly it was like being back home for the holidays. After several tight embraces, I realized I’d been missing that and not realized.

I said goodbye to my fellow humans and promised to check in next time I was in town, then took the bio-scanner back to the ship. The moving sidewalk was just as quick in this direction.

Paint and Telly were still in the lounge when I passed. I gave Eggskin the scanner, checked in with the captain at the cockpit, then grabbed a book from my room.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked Paint.

“Sure; there’s plenty space!” She uncurled enough to wave at the broad expanse of couch.

Telly made a feline “Mrrp,” then put her head back down.

I found the sun lamp’s controls on the table, next to the box of accessories, and turned it up just a smidge. Then I lay down between Paint and the back of the couch, with my book above her head.

She made happy noises about the extra warmth, and Telly mrrp’d again.

From the door to the hall, something hissed, then Zhee’s voice complained, “Why is it so bright in here?”

Paint didn’t look up as she declared, “Basking is a time-honored form of enrichment.”

“I fail to see the appeal.”

“Hang on,” I said, sitting up long enough to grab an effects adapter from the box on the table. I’d checked before; these would stay in place even with just half of the cover. I clipped on the most colorful and glitterific galaxy adapter to the far side of the sun lamp, turning half of the lounge into a space disco that any self-respecting Mesmer would love.

Zhee was no exception. “Now that is lovely,” he said, clicking his way into the room. “Why didn’t you do that to start with?”

He made himself comfortable with a media screen while I settled back into place with my book and cuddle puddle.

Mur’s voice said from the hallway, “Why is it so bright in here?”

Zhee said, “Enrichment.”

Paint said, “You can join us if you like.”

I smiled. “I have a great new space shanty that I think you’ll enjoy.��

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[eldritch-spouse]

That is a very generous offer Jonesy but I don't want to live on an island. I'm happy enough here. Now if you'll excuse me I need to-ah! Jonesy. Please let me go.

[Ambiguous reader]

TW: Kidnapping

" Why... Whatever do you mean? "

The throne looks entirely perplexed, as if nothing in this world could have prepared him for a rejection that, from your point of view, is anything but surprising.

All of your interactions thus far with this 'celestial' have been nothing if not positive. Jonesy, as he calls himself, is a positive force in your life. You're one of many 'lessers' who this Mother Miara entity he speaks so fondly of has selected to be judged for a certain period of time. Initially, the fear of what this might entail kept you defensive, but Jonesy's 'judging' honestly seems to consist in him inviting himself into your daily routines and generally being helpful.

Convenient enough that you decided to go along with it.

Maybe that's being a little harsh, you did grow to enjoy Jonesy's company, a little bit. He's pleasant enough, polite, seeming to have your best interests in mind, even if he doesn't understand that he no longer has the level of authority angels might have once had over humanity. And, most of all, he always brings small trinkets when he visits. Sometimes it's a new decoration for your home, other times it's some thingamajig he doesn't fully understand and wants you to explain to him under the guise of a simple present. Two of his gifts stand out to you.

Jonesy once gave you someone's personal phone. It was still locked and entirely undamaged, he likely picked it up somewhere. Lessers like theses things, he had proudly said, I found another one for you. He looked offended when you suggested he deliver it to a police station, so you dropped the subject and quietly took care of it yourself. Another time, the throne showed up with a gorgeous, reflective feather. He sounded a bit vague when you prodded for its meaning, but it looks harmless enough. You've decided to put it in a little case, to which Jonesy recommended that you sometimes take it outside with you.

You were never overly touchy with the angel, didn't think you should be. Jonesy is easy on the eyes, in his own bizarre sort of way, but he exudes authority in equal amounts to safety and comfort, so it felt inappropriate to simply take that step. Nevertheless, impulse once made you comment about the quality of his fur, the few times he'd wear something a little more 'casual', and Jonesy said nothing for a few moments, before placing your hand on his chest and letting you feel the expanse of softness there. You had never experienced something like it before, your fingers sunk into it yet it felt so incredibly light, so cozy, as if you could just lay your head upon it and have the best rest of your entire life. Neither of you said much of anything to each other for the rest of that particular visit.

He appears to like animals too, which is something you find very appealing in people. A few times now, he had this super beautiful cat -It was very large, some kind of maine coon?- With fur as white as his own and these wide eyes that seemed just a little too involved in anything around itself. Jonesy carried it with the utmost care and would regularly talk to it, calling it 'lady'. It made you smile, though he would always hand the feline to another celestial before properly greeting you, removing any chance to interact with it.

He's definitely weird.

But, perhaps, you could call Jonesy a friend in your little life.

Being friends with him doesn't mean you're about to abandon everything you've built and those you love just to join an island far away and be in some sort of paradise cult. Even if he's right about it being the best decision you could ever make, even if you'd live your best life there and be incredibly fulfilled, without having to bare the weight of your society's expectations on your shoulder- It's just not your home. It's not where you think you belong, and it certainly doesn't justify leaving your family and friends behind.

" I mean exactly what I said, Jonesy. " You shrug, finishing the basic omelet you were trying to make when he nearly pounded through your door in his excitement to see you.

You suppose these 'wonderful news' are why he didn't waste a second before dropping that bomb of a proposal on you.

" Dove, are you listening? Mother Miara herself has judged your profile and deemed you worthy of joining us in the most sacred location of Earth! "

You really just want to eat and end this conversation. " Jone- "

" Do you not wish to be welcomed into Lady Miara's arms? She will make you the best version of yourself, you will never know misery, you'll be surrounded by prosperity and harmony. I would help guide you- "

" No! " You interrupt, a lot more forcefully. " No, I don't want to go to some remote location and abandon everything I know, excuse me if that sounds crazy to you. I have people here who need me, okay? I have a community I belong to, I like having my own place with all the stuff I own. I like going to places you won't find on an island, Jonesy. I'm not going anywhere. "

He's motionless after your outburst, maybe in shock, maybe trying to make sense of your reasoning. You decide to soften the blow.

" Listen, I'm very flattered. It sounds like a great deal that I know many people would take. And good for them! I'm not one of those people, I'm sorry man. "

The kitchen suddenly seems too small and crowded. After a very tense silent that absolutely rips the hunger out of you, he finally speaks.

" You poor thing. " The throne murmurs, making you rise a brow. " You don't think you're good enough. You feel that you must be tied down to this frivolous nonsense in order to have meaning in your life. You could never be more wrong. "

Frustration bubbles by now. " Jonesy, can we not have this conversation right now? "

" It's quite alright, I see now. You'll need a lot of help to overcome your mind's delusions. Fret not, I'll take it upon myself to clear them. "

The celestial advances as he speaks, resolve radiating off of him. You barely get to turn away before he bodily picks you up. With little effort, as if you weighed less than the very trinkets he'll occasionally bring around.

Angels... Angels don't hurt humans unless they have to, right? It's not in them to be malicious... Right? Jonesy wouldn't hurt you.

He won't.

You hope he won't.

" Wh- What are you doing?! Put me down, please. " He doesn't. In fact, he walks outside. " Please put me down. "

" Silence lesser, be graceful about this blessing. "

You can't see them, but you can hear another celestial waiting for Jonesy, making a noise of confusion.

" Are they wounded? " The new one questions.

" No, just blinded of reason I believe. "

The nerve.

" Unfortunate. "

You're handed off rather easily to a larger set of hands, unable to see the face of this stranger before they run a hand through your face and the ability to see is quite literally taken from you. It's enough to make you freeze.

" Quite. I know they'll find a better home with us however. "

You dare not move when they take flight, knowing it'd be certain death to squirm mid-air, blinded, and horrified.

[azisfan]

Men are not more variable wtf. Do you even read papers about things you claim to know about? The said variability has no genetical basis and in fact was never supported by geneticists (they always favored greater female variability due to hormonal status), is not observed universally in animals (at best males are more variable only in specific areas, but at the same time females are more variable in others) and is supported only by psychological studies, aka studies of the status quo, and the papers supporting this theory literally use cherry-picked data, even the dude who created (actually revived - this idea existed in Darwin times) this hypothesis (yes, hypothesis, it literally is not proven and therefore cannot be stated as a fact, I will kindly remind you.) later published another study where he retracted his previous words and said that taking everything in account shows that men are not more variable in everything than women. I am not even talking about the fact that a lot of papers studying human capabilities either never calculated differences in variability, or were never published publically in the first place - it is a common issue for meta-analyses. There was a meta-analysis published by a woman, which analysed data from hundreds of species and concluded that males were not more variable than females at all - this really butt-hurt some redditors to the point when they started to make their own homemade meta-analyses that debunked her. Haven't you heard of it? I am sure it was reported in the media.

Also, since when males were supposed to be an "experimental sex"? Are you trying to prove greater male variability with your own philosophical interpretation of nature? That doesn't work, because what objectively males are is parasitoid genestealers, who have no purpose existing outside of perpetuating themselves. This is something geneticists will openly admit to you, because all the benefits that males supposedly bring to the species are heavily outweighted by negatives such as their high cost of production. Not to mention sexual reproduction is only theoretically good to weed out bad mutations, but practically is not helping with that at all (men accumulate a shit ton of mutations due to their rapid sperm production for starters).

You are right that feminists should pay more attention to this peculiar theory, but not for the reasons you suggest. We need to critisize this hypothesis because it is clearly a product of coping male mind, that is eager to justify all the social engineering that goes into producing male geniuses, successful CEOs and such, and also erase the deliberate lack of control over deviant males (when people say there are more male idiots, they don't really mean disabled people after all, because they would say "sick" otherwise - they are just talking about their life experiences), presenting it as a "natural thing" instead. Oh, and, of course, it erases the fact of obvious genetical female superiority and male dysgenic genome by presenting their lack of genes and higher mutation rates as something more desirable (that's really funny how mutations are framed in society as something good and to strive for lol - nature has never had any lack of spontaneous mutations, there is a reason why all the systems that exist concerning it are those of mutation rates reduction, including sexual reproduction. And why parthenogenetic species have much more stable genome - their way of compensating of the only benefit of males). It is popular with the most bottom of the barrel men - rhe vanguard of misogyny if you will - for a reason; because it is like the panacea for all their male "issues" of justifying patriarchy.

I am very sad that this idea is so uncritically supported by many women. And frankly I don't understand why. Isn't it obvious that they are just justifying male privelege at least? After so many years of feminist analysis it should be evident why women are less likely to be considered geniuses and occupy more prestigious positions, even the papers that find evidence of greater male variability admit that the amount of female high-achievers is still much-much less than what is predicted by those findings. I really hope you reconsider your position on this question, because I am frankly very frustrated by this bland spot of many women, by the fact that this harmful idea so easily lands into their minds.

PS: I cannot provide sources for my claims, sorry, but they are either searchable or logically coherent. The reason for it is that I gave up collecting all those studies like pokemons and deleted them all from my favorites, because it was really some kind of soul-draining consumerism. Ideally, just saying one contradiction should be enough to disprove it (as per the status of hypothesis) and yet I feel pressured to overexplain myself to cover all the weak spots possible. That's because people believe such things, like "women are more emotional", because they want, and therefore all the evidence for the validity of said ideas is literally fabricated by the virtue of self-fullfilling prophecy.

radblr hot takes? 🔥

what nuanced take do you feel easily shamed for on radblr?

[so-i-did-this-thing]

I know this is going to sound naive and stupid but I was wondering what the suggestions on your post to sell stuff/downsize and save money are for? Like am I preparing money to move, avoid starvation because we might be headed into a depression 2 type of era or?

I guess I'm just kind of wondering because I got out of homlessness not that long ago and I already lost everything and recently I've started to rebuild. I don't even have that much but what I do have feels so important to me so I was thinking like...should I just stop building if I have to lose it again anyway? Should I just go into money saving mode and start treating this as life or death?

My Day 1 advice is a combination of:

Quickly pulling together a little extra money for emergency one-time fees, like for a passport

Having less *stuff* to be in a position to move in a hurry, if necessary

Being willing to share/give away some of your stuff to those with a greater need

Overall cultivating a more mindful attitude towards possessions, in a way that is sustainable and self-sufficient long-term. (Slow fashion, is an easy example.) I'd say in your case, this is what you should focus on when you make new purchases.

I'm sorry my wording is vague in my OP. It doesn't feel like I left poverty too long ago, fwiw, and I understand what it feels like to have been deprived for a long period of time.

For immediate action, you should still be trying to build an emergency fund of some sort, where your current expenses can be covered for multiple months. (This can take a while to achieve, I know it can be tough.) And if you're in a place where you may need to flee a red state soon, enough to cover moving expenses.

But overall, while our possessions can do a great deal to ground us and provide comfort, yes, I do think you need to ask yourself, "how ready am I to leave my things behind and start over". I hope it doesn't come to that.

Do expect for the cost of living to rise sharply in the coming months. Some kind of financial crisis is very likely. Cut back now on habits that can lead to overspending. See where you can stretch your budget.

But for now, save what you can, spend wisely, take advantage of what's free out there, share resources with your community, and be generous when possible to those less fortunate.

[avianyuh]

Boring | Min Yoongi

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four} {Chapter Five} Chapter Six

Summary: You decide it's time for your friends to officially sit down and meet Yoongi out of the office. However, things don't go as planned and it's not for the reasons you'd normally suspect.

After that lunch with your friends two months ago, things had remained the same at work. You hadn’t moved in with Yoongi yet, so Mondays through Thursdays, you slept at your own apartment. Fridays and weekends you spent with Yoongi at his place since you didn’t have to come up with some elaborate plan to sneak into work together without making people at the office suspicious. You hadn’t worked on any other projects with Yoongi for the fear of your relationship being outed and your work being diminished as a ‘task’ the boss had given to his girlfriend.

But unlike work, your actual relationship has done nothing but change over the last five months of your relationship. You weren’t living together, but the suggestion of it was brought up to you at least once a week. Out at dinner? “You know Y/N, if we loved together this could be our designated takeout place…” Watching a movie? “What if we repainted the bedroom to be that shade of green like they have in the movie? Moving in would be a great excuse to remodel…” And of course, trying to leave Yoongi’s apartment on Sunday night. “I can’t stand not seeing you here for four days. I hate this.” He’d whine, holding you close as your bodies stood in the entryway to his apartment. Yoongi had gradually gone from a closed off, quiet man into an energetic, passionate and honest partner. He was everything you needed in your life. He said the right things, he made you feel special. He was starting to really convince you that maybe moving in would be a good idea. After all, having to split your clothes into two dresses was starting to take its tole on you. The other night, the temperature plummeted outside and you were freezing. So, you started rummaging through dresser drawers, looking for your favorite hoodie. After ten minutes of tearing your room apart, you realized that your warm, cozy hoodie was in fact, folded neatly in your boyfriends dresser fifteen minutes away. And it was only a Tuesday, so you, your hoodie and your boyfriend had two more days to go before you could all be properly reunited.

You had also finally gotten around to getting Yoongi, Gina and Hana in the same room outside of work. You had pleaded with Yoongi for over a week. “But I can tell they don’t like me, baby it’s a waste of time.” Yoongi groaned as he watched you from the couch search through the cabinets in the kitchen. You sighed as you darted your eyes around the inner workings of the cabinet, looking for something to snack on since your dinner reservation wasn’t for another few hours.

“Yoongi come on, they don’t hate you at all. You’re still hung up on that one time Gina got mad at you because she thought you were overworking me. Which, as we all know, was not the case and she gets that now. They’re always asking about you and when exactly I can get everyone informally introduced. Please, please, please say yes!” You begged as you snatched some crackers off a shelf and headed back towards Yoongi on the couch. He silently stared at you, shaking his head in disapproval. Then he let out a deep, dramatic sigh. Your lips curled into a smile, already knowing his response. Over the course of your relationship, you’ve learned a lot of about your boyfriend. What you’ve really enjoyed learning about are those little habits about him that no one else would really pick up on but you. This particular habit was your favorite. When you were winning your case against Yoongi, when he was about to admit defat and cave to your demands, he always let out a really long, dramatic sigh before finally agreeing. And just as you suspected, you had again just won your case.

“Fine, call them and set something up whenever they’re free. We can go out or we can host them here or at your place if you want.” Yoongi murmured as he flipped through the channels on TV. You clapped your hands excitedly as you climbed on top of him, decorating his face with kisses. You could see out of the corner of your eye that he was trying to conceal his smile.

So that next weekend, you decided to host your friends over to your apartment. You thought that it would be best to have them over to your apartment, since it’s well, not a rich CEO’s residence, which would have completely shocked them. Your apartment was pretty small, only had one bathroom that had almost no room to move around in, the kitchen had no storage, no counter space, and your bedroom had no windows. Overall, your apartment was the furthest thing from flashy and since you really wanted everyone to solely focus on getting to know each other, you thought you had picked the best location for that to happen since they wouldn’t be able to get sidetracked by Yoongi’s huge apartment.

Yoongi was tucked away in the kitchen, chopping something for a dish you were making as you walked towards the door after hearing the buzzer go off. It’s Gina, called the intercom. “Okay, remember Yoongi, Gina is really sarcastic, so remember to not take anything too literally or personally. She likes to get under people's skin.” You explained to him, praying in your head that everything goes well. Yoongi massaged his temples in frustration. He had been tense since the minute you woke up and you found it heartwarming that he was so nervous to meet your friends. But to be completely honest, you were also nervous deep down. Not so much with your friend Hana, but with Gina. Though you had told your friends two months ago about your relationship and they had seemed supportive, you had left out a tiny detail. After a night in with Gina at her apartment, and after knocking back quite a few drinks as you watched reruns of some show from twenty years ago, Gina had a drunk words, sober thoughts moment.

“Y/N, I really hope you realize how much of a douche your boyfriend is. I just saw him yelling at Mark from accounting the other day in the middle of the hallway. Like, he was really mad. People were looking and everything. I just don’t think someone that can get so aggressive is the right guy for you…Plus, Yoongi and his secretary are way too friendly. everything he says, she's always giggling like an idiot. ” Though you yourself could fall into the category of drunk, you were sober enough to remember what she said, especially the part about the secretary. To be clear, you always knew Yoongi’s secretary didn’t like you. And you were also aware of the fact that there was a good chance the secretary knew that Yoongi and you were dating, mainly because Yoongi was constantly ‘calling you in’ to his office, yet you never worked on anything with him. And you were always conveniently 'summoned' right before lunch started. Every time you’d walk past her desk to get to Yoongi’s office, you could almost feel her eyes burning into the back of your head. But at the end of the day, Yoongi was your boyfriend and not hers and you were secretly happy knowing someone knew of your relationship because deep down, all you wanted to do was be able to interact with Yoongi publicly without the paranoia that came along with seeing him at work.

You were taken out of your thoughts when you a knock at the door. You ran to swing it open and there stood your best friend. You both yelled excitedly as you hugged Gina tightly. You tried to navigate your way around the box of cookies in her hands that she had brought as a gift. “Come in!” You exclaimed as you pulled her inside. “Where’s Hana?” you asked as you took her box of cookies and her coat from her.

“Oh, you didn’t see the messages in the group chat? She’s stuck in traffic. You know…I told her she should’ve moved to the city when she had the chance. Now she’s so far away from everything and it takes forever to get here.” Gina explained as she closed the door and took off her shoes.

“Ugh, well I’ll try to not eat too much until she gets here, I don’t want her to feel left out.” You said as you walked towards the kitchen, Gina following close behind.

“Hi Gina.” Yoongi greeted her awkwardly as he motioned his head back down, going back to chopping vegetables.

“Hey Yoongi, thanks for making time for something like this.” Gina complimented him. “I know you’re busy…” You nudged Gina with your elbow, giving her a look that screamed behave yourself, as you started to set up the table before Hana arrived.

“Yoongi actually canceled something to do this.” You nonchalantly lied as you spread out the cookies Gina brought on a plate. You could see from the corner of your eye that Yoongi was giving you a confused look, which you couldn’t blame him for. You weren’t sure why Gina was so seemingly against your relationship. You knew she was coming from a good place, but you were really happy with Yoongi and you wanted her to see that he was just as serious about you as you were for him.

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Gina teased as she cracked a smile. Perfect, you thought to yourself. By the time Hana got to your apartment, the food was ready and everyone was sitting at the table. Yoongi went around refilling everyone's wine glasses, and Hana gave you a subtle look of approval upon him filling up her glass. It was going really well. He was asking them questions, getting to know them and even making them laugh. “Wait a minute…Yoongi, you paint!” Hana exclaimed as Yoongi shyly nodded.

“Oh you should see some of his paintings, I thought he bought them from a gallery, they look really professional.” You said, squeezing Yoongi’s shoulder. “I actually have one here.” You stood up from your seat, running to hallway to get the painting.

“When’d you get into painting?” Gina asked curiously, taking a sip of her wine. Yoongi relaxed in his seat, squinting his eyes, seemingly thinking back to something.

“I think High School…I took a few art classes and really enjoyed them. I would’ve studied art in college but my parents would’ve been angry.” Both of your friends nodded understandingly as you reentered the room.

“Here it is!” You held up the dark colored canvas. It was a painting of a night sky, one Yoongi had painted while staying over at your apartment. He sat in front of the window for hours. He had been jumpy all day because he had a meeting the next morning, so he decided to paint to take his mind off of his schedule. That was when you learned that he had a creative side to himself. Your friends stood up, getting a closer look at the painting. You could hear a lot of wows and ooo’s as you peered past them, back at your boyfriend. You gave him a wink and he smiled at you.

When your friends settled back down, you could tell that the atmosphere had changed. From earlier in the day where things were quite tense with Gina, to the tipsy laughter of the midafternoon, to now, where it seemed like everyone was truly comfortable. “Okay Yoongi I just have to say, I apologize for doubting you.” Gina blurted out. You looked over at her, confused by the sudden outburst. “I’ve seen how happy you’ve made Y/N over the past few months, but I thought it seemed too good to be true. Plus, she kept the fact that she was seeing you from us for three months and I thought that was a bad sign…But, now I get it. It is a tricky situation considering where we all work.” Hana took a sip of her wine, humming in agreement with Gina.

“I just have to ask though, what really would happen if anyone found out? I mean, you are the CEO, you can’t get fired right?”Hana spoke up, a concerned look on her face.

“No. That wouldn't happen. I’m actually in the middle of negotiating a deal, one where I would be promoted. I’d be overseeing multiple offices if we buy out these other companies. I wouldn’t be at the regular office as much, so I’m thinking our relationship wouldn’t be of much concern since I wouldn’t be at the office as much.” Yoongi explained. You listened closely, because this was all new information to you. However, you stayed silent, not wanting your friends to find out that you had no idea about any of this. “We’re keeping it really quiet right now, no one really knows.”

“Well, that’s great! I hope it all works out.” Gina cheered as she raised her glass to make a toast, she gave you warm smile, before noticing the hesitation behind your expression to return it. You ignored the confusing look from Gina and followed suit, clinking your glass with everyone else’s, but deep down, you were a bit angry with your boyfriend. How could he keep you in the dark on something as big as this.

After a few more hours, you said your goodbyes to your friends and closed the door. You turned around to find Yoongi standing behind you. “It went great right? I think I impressed them.” Yoongi said proudly as he tried to pull you into his embrace.

“Yep, great.” You responded sarcastically as you pushed past him, starting the process of cleaning up the mess from dinner. Yoongi followed behind you, asking what was wrong.

“What happened? Everything went really well…unless I missed something?” He questioned. You let out a frustrated sigh as you placed the dishes in the sink.

“What happened? I’ll tell you what happened. You’re working on buying out other companies, something that could potentially take you to other cities and you just neglected to tell me. And you’ve been working on this for a while? This wasn’t even something that just happened. My friends found out before I did. Do you know how embarrassing it was to have to sit there and pray that you didn’t blurt out that I had no idea about this?” You yelled as you watched him pinch the bridge of his nose, formulating his response.

“I thought it would have been a nice surprise.” Yoongi murmured as he looked at you.

“Well it wasn’t. It makes me think that you have no trust in me. LIke you couldn’t trust me with important information.” You explained to him as you turned on the faucet, starting to scrub the plates.

“So what now? Are you mad at me? Y/N I’m sorry, it’s just been hectic with all the talks of these mergers, I really didn’t think it through.” To that, you didn’t even respond. You weren’t sure why this got you so mad. After all, other than that slip up, the day went well and technically the ultimate goal was to get your friends to bond with your boyfriend. “I don’t care if you stay or leave, I’m just angry that you didn’t at least give me a heads up.” Is all you said as he leaned against the counter.

He did end up staying over that night and by the next morning, you decided to just not bring it up again, but you couldn’t help the doubts that started to reappear in the back of your mind. You wondered if his secretary knew about the mergers. You thought about whether he'd need to move for work. If he would start to travel even more often than he already did. But most importantly you wondered if your relationship was as secure as you had previously thought it was. Does he not trust me?

[thehereticdiaries]

Pack Mentality: Chapter Two

Chapter Summary: You meet your new pack after having a rather embarrassing conversation with Chan Warnings: Talk of past abuse/controlling behavior

Series Masterlist

As you stepped into the elevator of the dorm building, you were trying not to stare at Seungmin. Keyword: trying. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. You weren’t trying to be rude or make him uncomfortable, you were just confused. During the walk from the hobby shop to the dorms, Seungmin’s scent started changing. Well, not exactly changing, he still smelled of a comforting mix of cedarwood and lemon, but it was like it was getting stronger. That something extra that you smelled on Chan was slowly permeating Seungmin’s scent. 

“I told everyone except for our other omega to wait in their rooms.” You were shaken from your thoughts when Chan broke the silence. “I’m gonna introduce them slowly. I don’t want you to be overwhelmed.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” you breathed a sigh of relief. You were nervous to meet six new people, but knowing there was another omega eased your nerves. The three of you shuffled into the landing of the dorm to take off your shoes. You stepped into an extra pair of slippers then followed Chan into the living room. Seungmin turned down another hallway, you assumed he was going to tell the others that you were here. The bright smell of citrus and spearmint radiated from a very excited blonde. 

“Hi! You must be Y/N, I’m so happy to meet you,” the blonde grinned at you. “I’m Felix.”

“You’re minty, like me.” You cringed internally. You had just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Felix’s smile somehow grew wider.

“Oh my god, you’re adorable!” Felix giggled at your reddened cheeks. “Can I give you a hug?” You nodded and Felix immediately pulled you into his chest. You buried your nose into his collarbone, inhaling his scent. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to relax for the first time since you were brought into the shop’s office. 

“How about we sit down, get comfortable,” Chan suggested after letting you indulge for a minute. “There’s some things I’d like to talk about while it’s just you, me, and Felix.” You forced yourself to untangle from Felix with a pout. Felix pulled you to sit on his lap on the large sectional while Chan occupied the recliner. 

“Right, this is going to be a bit personal. I figured you would be less anxious with another omega present.” You tensed up slightly, now worried that he was about to tell you they didn’t need or want another omega in the pack.

“It’s okay, love. We’re just getting your boundaries set in place,” Felix whispered, trailing his fingers over your spine. You sunk further into the blonde, nodding for them to continue.

“Do you know when your next heat is due?” Your eyes widened, not expecting the alpha to bring up your heat. It was a taboo subject at your parents’ home.

“Oh- um, it’s due in two and a half weeks. Why?” 

“I need to know if you want help with it or if you want to handle it yourself,” Chan explained. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” You looked to Felix. “I thought I would just be locked in my room. That’s what my dad did whenever I went into heat.” Felix’s jaw dropped in horror, and you heard Chan inhale sharply.

“Sweetheart, I promise I am nothing like your dad. You don’t have to deal with your heat alone if you don’t want to. And if you do, we’ll get you set up at a heat sanctuary hotel.” Your eyes snapped back to Chan. 

“I didn’t even know those existed,” you admitted. Chan pinched the bridge of his nose, blown away by just how cruel your own father was to you. “You’d really help me? I don’t have to deal with the pain myself?”

“We are more than willing to help. Although I would be the first to do so,” Chan noted. 

“Wh- what?” 

“I’m the pack alpha, so I’m the first to have sex with our omegas.” You hid your flushed face behind your hands. 

“Awe, you don’t need to hide,” Felix cooed at your embarrassment. You peeked between your fingers at Chan, who waited patiently for you to signal him to continue. 

“I, um, I’ve never- I haven’t-” You struggled to form a coherent sentence. 

“Ah, you haven’t had sex yet?” You shook your head. “That’s okay, and if you don’t want to yet, I won’t be upset. You don’t have to answer right now. Think it over and let me know sometime next week.”

“I will,” you confirmed. “Are more pack members coming out soon?”

“I have one other question. It’s still about your heat, so you don’t have to answer right away,” Chan paused to check that you were still comfortable. “I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it, but you’re my mate.”

“Is that why your scent is different?” Your eyes widened in realization. 

“Yes, I didn’t want to freak you out, but I could tell from the moment I met you,” Chan revealed with a soft smile. Your heart swelled at the way he looked at you.

“Wait, Seungmin smells that way to me, too. Does that mean I have to choose one of you?” You fretted, unsure if you’d be able to make that choice.

“You don’t have to choose. It’s possible to have more than one mate,” Felix interjected. “Chan’s my mate, too. Got the mark to prove it and everything.” You paused, trying to find the right words to express your emotions.

“If I’m being honest, I never expected to find a pack, let alone a mate. Does this mean I’ll have a pack mark and two claiming marks?” You were trying to process the new information. 

“That’s exactly what I wanted to ask you,” Chan stated. “If you ask me to help with your heat, I’ll need to know beforehand if you want me to claim you.”

“O-oh! Why do you need to know before?”

“You’re not going to be totally yourself. You may ask for things while in that state of mind that you don’t actually mean.” You nodded slowly, absentmindedly picking at your fingers. “If you tell me that you don’t want to be claimed yet, I won’t do it even if you beg during your heat.”

“Okay, it’s a lot to think about, but I promise I’ll let you know soon.” Chan relaxed into the recliner, smiling fondly at you and Felix.

“You ready for Seungmin to bring out the other betas?” Felix asked while grabbing your hands to stop your nervous habit, mirroring the earlier actions of his alpha. You took a deep breath and nodded. Chan whipped out his phone, sending a text to Seungmin. Moments later, you heard rapid footsteps coming toward the living room. 

“New omega!!” A man with a heart-shaped smile slid across the hardwood. His enthusiasm caused you to giggle, which in turn had his smile brighten. Seungmin and another dark-haired man appeared behind the first. 

“Hi, Y/N, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Hyunjin and that’s Jisung,” the calmer of the two newcomers introduced. Jisung plopped on the couch next to you and Felix, squeezing between your bodies and the arm of the couch and blocking Chan from view. The remaining betas sat on your other side. 

“Wow, you’re so pretty,” Jisung sighed, leaning his head on the back of the couch. 

“Thank you,” you squeaked, pink flooding your cheeks once again. Jisung’s smile morphed into a smirk.

“You’re even prettier when you blush,” he teased. You hid in Felix’s neck, causing the two to laugh. 

“Jisung,” Chan warned from his spot on the recliner. 

“Sorry, sorry.” The beta raised his hands in surrender. After Seungmin coaxed you out of your hiding spot, conversation flowed easily. They asked about your studies and how you liked your university, and you asked them about their job. 

“So you guys are idols? I’m part of a super famous pack?” You questioned. Seungmin snickered from behind you, so you turned to face him. “Is it really that funny? I’m only asking because I’m not sure if your fans will like me.”

“When you’re ready for us to announce you, STAY will love you. And if they have an issue, they aren’t real fans,” Hyunjin reassured. 

“Even if the fans are okay with me being in the pack, what about the company? Do you think they’ll have an issue with me having two of you as mates?” The betas perked up at the mention of mates.

“Two?” Jisung repeated. 

“Mhm. Chan and Seungmin,” you confirmed, a little nervous that the others would be upset or feel left out. 

“Oooooo! You lucky bastards,” Jisung complained half-heartedly. 

“And she hasn’t even met the other alphas yet. Maybe she has more.” Felix wiggled his eyebrows at you. You snorted, slapping a hand over your mouth. They didn’t look upset, much to your relief. Seungmin stared at you, looking utterly lovestruck, a fact that Hyunjin did not let slide.

“Awwweeee, look at Min!” Hyunjin poked Seungmin’s side repeatedly. “He’s got heart eyes.”

“Shut up,” Seungmin muttered while swatting the older beta’s hand away. 

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Chan spoke up after staying silent for most of the conversation. “Y/N, are you good to meet the others? They’re gonna come in one at a time.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m excited to meet them,” you agreed. Chan sent another message out, and a minute later a young man with fox-like eyes entered the room. He grinned upon seeing you. His scent washed over you like a warm blanket. Cinnamon and vanilla soothed your nerves, feeling like you just stepped into a bakery.

“Hello, I’m Jeongin,” he greeted softly. He sat a little further from you on the same side as Seungmin. You wiggled your way out of Felix’s lap so you could sit between him and Jisung. It was easier to see everyone now that you were facing forward. The beta made a small noise of excitement, throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

“You smell like a cinnamon bun,” you mumbled dreamily. Jeongin looked to his lap to hide his blush, but the tips of his ears gave him away as they burned red. 

“Someone’s embarrassed,” Seungmin said in a sing-song voice while pinching the youngest pack member’s cheek. Jeongin groaned and pushed the beta’s hand away.

“Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass anyone,” you apologized. “I just got excited cus this is the first time I’ve been comfortable around alphas.”

“Alphas usually make you uncomfortable?” Hyunjin asked despite the silent signals from Chan telling him to stop. You frowned and squished your cheek into Felix’s shoulder.

“They normally scare me. The only alphas I’ve been around were my dad and his friends.” 

“You don’t have to be scared of alphas anymore.” Jeongin’s pretty smile was gone, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I promise, me and Chan and everyone in this pack will make sure you’re safe.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled at Jeongin before turning to Chan. “I know you wanted the alphas to come in one at a time, but can I meet them both now? I want to have the whole pack together.”

“Yeah, I’ll call them in.” Chan sent out another text. His alpha puffed up with pride, pleased that you were already so caring for his pack. Once again, rapid footsteps approached the room. A very excited (and very muscular) man ran in with a bright smile. He immediately dropped down next to Jeongin. A much calmer man walked in next. He froze in his tracks, eyes locking onto you and nostrils flaring. 

“Minho, you alright?” Jisung asked. Minho ignored him, moving to kneel in front of you, never breaking eye contact. He gently grabbed your hand, running his thumb across your knuckles. 

“You’re real.” Tears gathered on the alpha’s lash line. “I’ve always hoped I would find my mate, just like my parents found each other.” You compulsively brushed your fingers over his cheekbone, your own eyes growing misty. 

“Does anyone want to explain what’s happening here?” The moment was broken by the alpha beside Jeongin. Minho exhaled loudly through his nose and you snickered at his annoyed expression. 

“Y/N is Chan, Seungmin, and Minho’s mate,” Hyunjin explained bluntly. 

“Oh no way! Congratulations on finding each other.” The alpha smacked Seungmin between his shoulder blades, earning a grunt from the beta. “I’m Changbin. He probably didn’t tell you, but Hyunjin is actually my mate.”

“Really?! Hyunjin, why didn’t you tell me?” You pouted. He only shrugged as an answer. Beside you, Jisung and Minho were having a silent conversation of eyebrow raises and head tilts, ultimately ending with the younger moving next to Changbin with a huff. Minho promptly took the spot next to you. As you looked over the pack, more specifically their pajamas, you came to a realization.

“I don’t have any of my stuff. What am I going to wear?” You asked, looking at Chan.

“You can use our clothes for now. Felix’s should fit alright, but we do need to decide when to go to your parents’ house for your belongings,” he noted and pulled up the pack’s shared calendar. “Looks like after Monday, we won’t have any days off for two weeks.”

“Dude, today’s Saturday. We’d have to go either tomorrow or Monday,” Jisung interjected. 

“Well, I do want to see my mom while I’m there. She has Sundays off and works from home on Mondays, so that works. But my dad also has the shop closed on Sundays and Mondays so he can be home with mom,” you explained. “I can just go by myself. You shouldn’t waste your days off helping me pack.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go to that house alone,” Chan stated firmly. “If your dad is there, then at least Changbin and I are going with you.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’, dollface. We want to help you, so it isn’t a waste of our time off,” Changbin confirmed. You sighed, resigned to the fact they weren’t going to budge. 

“Okay, but Felix comes too. Showing up with two buff alphas would make my mom freak out.”

“Deal. Last thing to discuss is which room you’re gonna move into.” Chan ran a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure the only room that can fit another bed is the master bedroom with me and Jeongin.”

“Wh… what if I don’t want my own bed?” You stuttered. Chan furrowed his eyebrows, looking at you curiously.

“She wants to share a bed with someone,” Felix clarified. You nodded quickly.

“Not just one person, I’d like to sleep in everyone’s beds. I get nightmares sometimes, but I’ve never liked sleeping alone, even as a kid.” 

“I think we can arrange that,” Chan confirmed, grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll text my mom to see if we can go tomorrow.” You relaxed into Minho’s side and pulled out your phone.

“What the hell is that?” Felix pointed at your cracked iPhone 4. 

“My phone…?” You faltered at the disbelief on everyone’s faces. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s extremely outdated. I’m surprised it’s still running,” Chan scoffed. “I’m assuming your dad wouldn’t get you a newer phone?” You shook your head.

“Your dad should be thankful that I’m not going with you,” Minho seethed, a muscle flexing as he clenched his jaw. You didn’t answer, opting to text your mom. She answered right away, like always, which made you smile.

“We can go over tomorrow, they don’t have any plans,” you stated. 

“Right, so we’ll be getting you a new phone then going to pack up,” Chan started. “I don’t want you relying on that man anymore, and I’m nervous he may just cut your phone off.” You hummed in acknowledgement. You chatted with your new pack with a movie playing as background noise. For the first time in a long time, you were at ease. 

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