#like not proud of in the sense of ‘wow this is really good’ more so in the sense of ‘Oh Thank God It Is Sort Of Functional’

[coldwind-shiningstars]

idk how to phrase this -- I've tried before but about other topics -- but there's a thing where Tumblr is "the autism website" and people here have overall created a culture that is both very autistic but also not overall better (and sometimes worse!) than the usamerican "allistic norm" and then either get superiority complexes about it Or refuse to admit it could be bad because it's stereotypically autistic. it's very frustrating because in many ways there's also a culture of prioritizing autistics who can mask in many ways, and when I talk about this I want to be clear that I'm not really discussing behaviors That Should Change and people should just become nondisabled and Do The Right Thing, so much as the idea that certain autistic behaviors are "better" or "superior" to their more socially-normative counterparts? I don't know what the right social balancing act is between "don't punish people for social mistakes" and "no, that's actually shitty to do, I know you can't help it but it Is still shitty" but at the very least we can start by not getting "autistic people are Doing Social Stuff Right, Actually"

non-exhaustive but examples that have come up recently under the cut:

it's overall not appropriate to ask strangers for their medical information, and you should, overall, consider carefully if you want to disclose your own medical information even if you believe it's relatively obvious. not even if you're trying to go "me too"! it's not appropriate to tell strangers suspected diagnoses off of a single post or even following their blog a long time. "Whether or not someone is neurodivergent" is, in fact, private medical information, and that's a good thing. It's even worse to do this out in the real world; the other day I was at (type of nerd store redacted but it's one I highly associate with autistic people but the world at large doesn't) and someone was talking at length to the cashier about this, and then they said "this is my special interest." and the cashier said "Yeah" and the customer said, "My autistic special interest," like, wanting a specific reaction or acknowledgement? and the cashier said "me too" and the customer was like wow!!! exciting! both of us! and then left and the cashier and another employee laughed about how awkward the whole thing was and how hard it was to escape certain customers. it was really really uncomfortable to witness. I should not know this diagnosis information about either of these people and, crucially, the shared diagnosis did not engender any fellow feeling from the cashier, it just made the interaction worse.

Smartness will only get you part of the way, you often really do need experience. This is why many rules exist (experience) and you being smart will not save you from the reason the rule exists. Similarly a lot of school assignments are teaching you important things and aren't actually useless. The people enforcing the rule or assigning the homework should absolutely explain why when asked, but "I don't follow rules that don't make sense to me, because I'm autistic" is both, yeah, very classic manifestation, but does not mean those rules are genuinely senseless. It is a neutral trait, not something to be proud of, but not something to give into shame/accepting the existence of the ODD label about. Standing on the shoulders of giants and all, but instead it's standing on the shoulders of injuries past.

If you're bad at reading context and tone and you know it, that really sucks. It's hard to have a brain like that, especially because people stigmatize lack of reading comprehension so significantly? But if you know that about yourself, do not attempt to behave in a "typical internet callout fashion" based on your gut reading of a post, and when people respond to you telling you that you were wrong, you can't get to avoid responsibility by saying you're bad at context and reading comprehension. It's really unfortunate how people treat people who are bad at these sorts of things! But "typical internet callouts" are already bad and you do actually have a responsibility not to perpetuate that, especially if you're aware you're bad at context and tone and therefore more likely to make mistakes.

I made a post a month or so ago about the tendency to assume someone is both joking and not knowledgeable and behave in a condescending manner/the wider "you can't be annoyed with me, I'm autistic" and the tension between (people who are autistic generally can't Just Follow even really specific social feedback, and people do treat socially awkward people quite badly) and (you can't actually tell someone they're not allowed to be annoyed with you) but that remains true as always

You may think you are doing The Autism Thing of saying exactly what you mean with no hidden meanings and the other person may also be thinking they're doing the exact same thing. This does not mean you will understand each other, I'm sorry. And it doesn't mean you're not also making a lot of assumptions even if you think you're taking them straightforwardly! There's no "autism to autism" communication that's universally better than "autism to neurotypical"; it's true that autistic people do often get along well with many other autistic people, but I've often noticed that simultaneously there is autism to autism communication that is notably worse than autism to allistic. Social communication issues can come in all sorts of flavors and some of those flavors can be pretty incompatible.

Idk. It feels bad to me? The simultaneous prioritizing of high-masking-ability, high-intelligence autistics in combination with "well, you can't say it's bad that I do this, I'm autistic." Both extremes are bad.

[hana-bobo-finch]

TOO MUCH TO CATCH UP ON RIPPING MY HAIR OUT!!!! I’ll get to most of the posts in the morning wauughhh. anyway hi guys, ive been working a lot on my neocities PDBC site these past few days and I have a question: when it comes to the site, it’ll mostly be lore-dumps and character bios like I’ve been posting here (along w my minicomics obvs), and I’ve been fooling around with a bunch of different ideas for the writing style of the lore dumps and I want to know which seems best to you:

1. Objective, such as I normally do with my lore dumps (e.g. no personal biases, all info laid out rather plainly)

2. Written in the style of an “official” fincg island website (e.g. written in the pov of finch describing his Amazing Super Cool island and stuff)

3. Written by Domitone post-main story (e.g. something akin to a historical document explaining The Horrors of fincg island after the fact)

[sceletaflores]

LAYING IT ALL ON THE LINE...

꩜ masterlist ꩜ update blog ꩜ inbox ꩜ taglist ꩜ ao3 ꩜

｡꩜°‧➵ PAIR: Joel Miller x fem!reader

｡꩜°‧➵ WC: 4.1k

｡꩜°‧➵ CONTAINS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, post-outbreak, hurt/comfort, joel's pov, general violence, minor character injury, jackson!joel, when he picks an unnecessary fight with you because that's all he knows, mentioned age gap, joel miller as a sad old man, joel miller experiences feelings, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, clothed sex, unprotected sex, erectile dysfunction? we don't know what that means in this house because that old man can fuck like he's twenty AND his knees are made of steel (but only sometimes), porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

｡꩜°‧➵ @retrosabers SAYS: thinking about you almost dying on patrol and joel is FUMING, unable to convey just how worried and anxious it makes him. the only way he can even remotely conceptualize his feelings is through a very PASSIONATE rawdogging ♡

｡꩜°‧➵ NAT'S NOTE: everyone say thank you sid for this absolutely luxurious prompt...i'm waiting. i had so much fun with this! i love love love a good semi-angsty, emotionally constipated man having to come to terms with his buried slash repressed feelings in the gritty wake of a near-death experience, like that's my shit. hope y'all love it!

dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics!

joel miller realizes that love isn’t just a four letter word…

"Southeast perimeter’s clear. Heading west by the river bed."

“Wow, you’re finally gonna stop gettin’ us lost out here, sunshine?”

“Lost? Please, you cried when I found that shortcut through the cedar thicket.”

Joel listens to you and Tommy bicker over the radio, a forgotten cup of coffee going cold at his side. That's all he can do when you're out there—patrolling in the snow with a few others. He's not proud of how he just sits by like some anxious house wife, listening to the static between check-ins, but he can't make himself focus on anything other than the way your bright voice filters in and out.

He tries not to hover. Tries not to keep the handheld clutched like it's a goddamn lifeline. But he does, eyes glued to the thing like it might crack open and spill you out if he stares hard enough.

Joel's really not even supposed to be listening in like this. Maria's chewed him out more times than he can count each time she catches him hunched over an old radio that he's never bothered turning in, says it'll do him more harm than good worrying over it.

Besides, these channels aren't meant for civilians sitting on their asses at home. He knows that, because that's exactly what he is now—civilian adjacent. Half-retired.

Tommy jokes about it every once in a while, the way Joel's slowed down, the way his joints complain louder than they used to. A while back, he might've laughed too. Now, every little twinge of pain feels like a reminder of what he used to be.

Joel used to be the one they all looked to out on patrol. He could track better, shoot cleaner, navigate faster than most of the younger guys. That's not the case these days. His patrolling has slowed down over the past few years. He only goes out a few times every couple of months, if even that. 

He tells himself it’s by choice.

It’s not, not at all. He’s tired. His knees ache after long rides. His busted shoulder can’t handle the cold without locking up. Jackson’s got a whole rotation now, young joints, faster reflexes, eyes that don’t blur when the wind hits just right. So he doesn’t go out much anymore. Not unless the group is short. Not unless they really need him.

It makes sense. He knows it makes sense.

That doesn’t make it feel right. You out there, miles away in knee-deep snow with a rifle strapped to your back while he’s stuck here. Not out there. Not beside you.

Joel knows you can handle yourself—hell, you’ve proven that a dozen times over. You’re younger. Strong. Fast. Smart as a whip. You can shoot the cap off a beer bottle and you handle a knife better than most people your age. 

Knowing all that still doesn’t quiet the feeling of unease that eats away at him each time you strap on your gear and kiss him goodbye with a, See you later, Miller. Strolling out the door like it’s casual. Like it’s nothing.

There’s a kind of helpless fury in it. A sick twist in his gut every time he watches you ride out. Like he’s some retired goddamn hunting dog. Trusted to guard the porch, but not sharp enough to run with the pack anymore.

Joel adjusts the volume dial on the radio like it’ll make your voice stay longer.

Tommy’s laugh cuts through the speaker. “Didn’t cry. I got snow in my eye.”

“In July? Sure.”

It comes in grainy and light, full of that same teasing bite you always give Tommy—enough to make Joel’s jaw tighten with a quiet, helpless kind of fondness. He almost smiles, but it doesn’t reach past the tight pull in his chest. You’re still picking your way through territory where any tree line might be hiding something.

Joel shifts in his seat, elbows on the table, jaw clenched tight. He tells himself you’re fine. You always are. You have to be.

The channel goes still for a few beats. Then, a crack of static. Some muffled shuffling. And—

“Wait—something’s moving in the trees. Left side, just past the ridge.”

Your voice. Sharper now. Less teasing and pointedly quiet.

“Copy,” Tommy replies, suddenly serious. “Keep eyes on—”

A burst of noise. A flurry of panicked voices overlapping and shouts. The unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Then nothing.

Dead air.

Joel’s heart drops to his boots. “Tommy?” he barks into the receiver. “Come in. What the hell’s happening out there?”

When there’s no answer, Joel shoots to his feet. The chair scrapes across the floor harshly as he crosses the room in two large strides, fumbling for his jacket. “Tommy? Goddammit, someone answer me!”

Nothing.

Joel’s heart thuds violently against his ribcage as he stares at the little black box in his hand like it’s an omen. He feels it rush in all at once—panic, guilt, helpless rage curling cold and mean in his chest. His ears are ringing so loud he doesn’t hear the slam of the door behind him as he tears out of the house and into the cold air. 

Something happened. The group was compromised. You were compromised.

And he’s not there.

He should’ve been there.

Joel doesn’t remember the sprint to the stables. Doesn’t remember shouting at Maria when she tried to stop him at the gate. Doesn’t remember half the ride out. All he knows is that his hands won’t stop shaking around the reins and the bile in his throat tastes like ash—a sick, gnawing pit growing in his gut.

When he finds the group what feels like hours later, just as the sun starts to rise behind the ridgeline—you’re nowhere to be found. His eyes scan the way everyone’s spread out, some with minor injuries and the others patching them up. 

No sign of you.

Tommy plants himself in front of Joel just as he hauls himself off his horse. He doesn’t even feel the way his knees jolt as his feet hit the ground. 

“Where the hell is she?” he rasps, voice so rough it sounds like it’s been dragged through gravel. “Where, Tommy?”

Tommy’s hands are out in front of him like Joel’s a wild animal about to snap. He’s got blood on his hands, but no signs of stab wounds or bullet holes anywhere on him. It’s not his blood. Joel’s stomach turns viciously at the sight, at the thought of whose it might be.

“She’s fine,” Tommy says, eyes wide and placating. “Took a hit, it grazed her side. She wouldn’t fuckin’ stay down.”

Joel knows he won’t feel any relief until he sees you, alive and breathing with his own eyes. “Where.”

Tommy steps aside just before Joel nearly shoves past him, nodding his head toward a rock outcrop a ways away from everyone else.

You’re sitting closest to the makeshift fire, Jesse crouched beside you to clean the gash along your side. You’re bundled in someone else’s coat, hair mussed and blood soaked through your undershirt and spattered across your cheeks.

Visibly shaken. Color drained. Bloody. Alive.

Joel’s throat locks up when your eyes meet his. You give him the smallest, tired smile—like you're trying to reassure him. That look. That stupid, brave little tilt of your mouth like everything's okay even when you're the one bleeding through Tommy's jacket.

It makes something in his chest crack wide open.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t speak.

Doesn’t know what to say.

Doesn’t trust himself for it to be anything good.

Joel takes three shaky steps towards you before his knees give out. 

He drops hard into the snow. He doesn’t catch himself, doesn’t try. Just falls forward like a penitent man bowing at the altar of a God he doesn’t believe in. His breath comes in short, ragged bursts, eyes locked onto the red seeping through your shirt like it's the only color in the whole damn world.

There’s a beat where nobody moves. Jesse freezes, half-done wrapping gauze, and you’re just sitting there, wide-eyed and shaking like a leaf, lips parted like you’re trying to say something—but Joel’s already reaching for you.

He's on you in the next breath. Not rough, not like usual, not with that greedy, hungry touch he normally has after you come back from patrol. His hands are trembling when they find your face, tilting your chin up gently, his fingers brushing away wet blood and dirt.

Tommy glances away. Jesse too, both men busying themselves with helping the others. It feels too private, even out here in the open.

“Goddammit,” he chokes. “God—baby–”

His voice breaks on the last word. Breaks, something sharp and gutted and boyish, nothing like the hardened man who's grown to guard his emotions like they’re classified. Your hands hover uncertainty over his shoulders, the side of his face. You’re worried. He can see it plain as day, written in the wavering line of your mouth.

“Hey—hey, I’m okay,” you say, voice low and urgent. “I’m fine. Look at me, Joel, I’m fine. It just—it just grazed me, okay? I’m fine.”

You’re not fine.

You’re too pale. You’re stone-cold. Your blood is still tacky on your shirt, drying beneath his body's warmth.

Joel presses his forehead to yours and exhales like he’s been kept underwater, and you were the surface he’d been clawing to.

You whisper his name again, quieter this time, and he shushes you. “Don’t—don’t talk, just—let me—” His fingers press to the pulse point at your wrist like he still needs proof. “Let me feel you.”

You don’t say anything else.

You just hold him.

And Joel doesn’t cry. He can’t. Something won’t let him, but he stays there in the snow for a long time, holding you like a man who thought he’d never get the chance to again.

The ride back to Jackson is quiet.

You fell asleep half-way through, head lolling back against Joel’s shoulder as you both sat in the saddle, your body loose with exhaustion and the emergency pain meds Jesse had in his pack. Tommy rides ahead, checking the trail, but Joel barely looks up. He just holds the reins with one hand and holds you tighter with the other.

You’re taken to the infirmary the second everyone files through the gates. Joel sits by your bedside in stormy silence, hands curled into fists and resting on his knees, the only thing keeping him together.

You talk to the nurse on duty. You even joke with her, cracked voice and tired eyes like it’s all part of the routine. Like getting shot is just another part of the job. And Joel sits there while someone else wraps you in new bandages and checks your vitals.

It makes his blood boil.

All he can think about is the way your voice cut out on the radio. The way he didn’t know if you were dead or bleeding out in some field, alone. And now you’re laughing. Now you’re telling the nurse, “I’m fine really, just sore.” And it makes him want to tear the whole fucking clinic apart.

Joel doesn’t say a word until you're cleared to leave. 

Not on the short walk back to your house. Not when you’re walking through the door, cleaned up. Patched. Your shirt’s gone, replaced by his coat and a thermal blanket around your shoulders.

Not when you nudge his arm gently like you’re testing the waters. Not when you say his name soft, like it might keep him calm before you’re heading towards the bedroom.

It doesn’t.

The moment the door shuts behind him, Joel erupts.

“You got a fuckin’ death wish?”

You freeze in your spot halfway across the room, turning to face him.

Joel doesn’t move. Just stands there, fists clenched at his sides. His voice is low, shaking with barely concealed rage. “You gonna tell me why you thought playin’ saviour was worth bleedin’ out in the snow?”

You don’t say anything for a few beats, eyebrows drawn together in a hard frown as you look at him. “What was I supposed to do, Joel? Jesse was pinned, Tommy would’ve taken the hit. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice!” Joel grates, stepping towards you. “You could’ve picked you. You could’ve stayed the fuck down like Tommy told you to.”

“I was trying to keep your brother from getting shot in the head,” you snap, the tension finally striking a flint. “I made a judgment call.”

“You made a stupid call,” he spits, voice loud and blistering. “You don’t get to do that.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you repeat, your body growing stiff and tense.

“You shoulda fuckin’ stayed down.” Joel growls. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it—just rips his flannel off, tosses it hard at the wall.

You don’t flinch. Don’t even look away from him as his shirt falls and crumples into a heap on the floor. “What?”

“You heard me,” he snaps, turning to look at you again. His eyes are dark, fiery. “Jesus, you—do you even fuckin’ think sometimes? You were hit. You knew you were hit, and you kept goin’. You didn’t stop, didn’t stay down like you were told.”

He steps closer, eyes boring into yours, face twisted with something too furious to be rational. “You fuckin’ chose to be a goddamn hero, huh? Run into gunfire like it ain’t a fuckin’ death sentence? That it?”

He can see the second your expression changes, your own anger rearing its ugly head now, bitter and hot. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this about me being reckless when you know I was just trying to keep people alive. I did what I had to do.”

“No!” he snaps, pointing a finger at you, furious and stricken all at once. “What you had to do was come home. That’s it. That’s all.”

You blink at him, breath caught in your throat.

Joel can’t stop, all the emotions he’s been dealt over the past three hours finally boiling over and spilling through his lips before he can think twice about what he’s saying.

“You could’ve died,” he growls, pacing now, hands dragging through his hair roughly like he’s trying to rip the anger out of himself. “Two fuckin’ inches to the left and that bullet would’ve torn straight through your gut. You think you’d’ve made it to town in time for that? Huh?”

“That’s not fair.”

“No,” he snarls, spinning on you, voice cracking. “It’s not fuckin’ fair. Nothin’ about this is. You go out there, and I sit at home waitin’ to see if today’s the day I lose you. That the last thing I heard is your voice cuttin’ out in the middle of a fuckin’ ambush. That’s what I got to live with now. That’s what I saw every time I closed my eyes on that ride back.”

You stand there, lost for words. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know you didn’t,” Joel says, suddenly quieter, throat thick. He swallows hard, looking down, shaking his head like he’s trying to get a grip. “But I still almost lost you. And I don’t—fuck—I don’t know what the hell I’d do if that ever—”

His voice cuts off, ragged. Then he’s in front of you again, cupping your face with both hands. “You’re not allowed to do that to me again,” he whispers fiercely. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that.”

“Joel…” You lean into him, slow. Cautious.

Joel meets you halfway.

His mouth is on yours in a heartbeat—hot and bruising and pathetically desperate. His big hands frame your face, thumbs dragging down your cheekbones as he licks a wet stripe over the plush seam of your lips.

You gasp into his mouth when he pushes the blanket off your shoulders, when his palms skate down your sides to grip your hips hard. Not too rough, not yet, but he’s holding you because he needs you rooted. Anchored. Here.

Joel kisses you like he’s still furious at you, like he hates how much he needs you, like he’s punishing you for making him feel so afraid. It’s not soft, all teeth and tongue as he devours you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When he pulls back, his mouth is wet with your spit, lips pink and swollen. “Need to taste you,” he mutters. “Need to feel you.”

Joel sinks to his knees before you can respond, breath huffing harshly against your stomach. His fingers tug your zipper down with frantic urgency, hooking his thumbs in your waistband to peel your pants down your legs in one swift motion.

There’s no teasing. No smugness. Just a heavy, sharp hunger carved into his face like stone as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to his greedy eyes. His hands slide under your thighs, lifting one over his shoulder as he brings his mouth to you like a man possessed.

The first drag of his tongue is slow. Reverent. Hot and wet as he parts the slick seam of your cunt with deliberate strokes that make your spine arch. He groans like your taste knocks the wind out of him, and then he latches on like he’s got a point to prove—to himself or you, he’s not sure. All he knows is that worshipping you is the only penance that could soothe the panic still clawing at his insides.

“Joel.” Your hands tangle in his hair, chin falling to your chest as you gaze down at him.

He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue relentless, nose pressed deep against you. You whimper, twisting his hair in your grip, hips twitching—Joel doesn’t let you go anywhere. He’s got you trapped, your body pinned with his mouth buried between your thighs like he plans to die there.

It’s filthy, obscene—the way he devours you. Lips slick, beard growing damper with each swirl of his tongue, eyes half-lidded but still trained on your own.

Your eyes are glassy, pupils blown wide and black as spilled ink. There’s sweat beaded on your brow, lips parted and swollen as you let out small huffs of air.

Your thighs are trembling. You're soaked, arching against him, whimpering his name with tears welling in your eyes. And still—still—he won’t let up. He needs this. Needs to make you fall apart. Needs to prove to himself you’re alive by the way your body sings under his touch.

Joel can’t stop. Not until your thighs shake and you’re moaning that you’re gonna come, gonna come, Joel, please—

And you do. You fall apart on his tongue with a broken sob, legs clenching tight around his ears, hips grinding down into his mouth in weak twitches and shudders. He growls and holds you still, licking you through every last tremor until your body goes limp and threatens to sink to the floor.

Joel doesn’t let you fall—he lowers you down gently, like you’re made of spun glass, even as his hands skirt over the hem of your shirt. When he pulls it up, revealing the bandages wound tight around your side, he pauses. His gaze lingers on the wound. Jaw clenched. Something soft and wrecked flickers in his eyes.

Your hand comes up to cup the side of his face, your thumb running over the scar across his temple so gently it has his heart throbbing in his chest. “I’m okay,” you whisper. “Still here.”

Joel takes your wrist in his hand, lowering it down enough to press it hard over his heart. “You feel that?” he breaths. “That hasn’t stopped hammerin’ since I heard your voice cut out.”

You nod slowly. Your fingers curl into his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Joel squeezes your wrist, turning his head to press a soft kiss to your forearm.

He climbs up over you, chest to chest—the jut of his cock where it tents the denim of his jeans grinds over the sensitive span of your cunt as he settles himself between your legs. He’s thick, heavy even through all the layers. 

Joel’s free hand snakes down his body, making quick work of his belt. He rips his zipper down, freeing his cock from the confines of his soaked boxers and letting it slap up against his stomach.

You moan at the sight of it—hard, straining, the tip a dusty red and wet with pre-come. Your legs widen unconsciously, thighs twitching on either side of Joel’s hips.

Joel takes himself in his hand, fist tight over the base of his cock as he runs himself through your puffy cunt, slicking the skin of his cock with your wetness. “Gonna fuck you,” he breathes, lining himself up between your legs. “Gonna feel you around me, baby, need it so damn bad.”

Joel slides in with one long, smooth stroke, your slick making it easy, and the groan he lets out sounds like pain. Like relief. Like he might lose his mind from the heat of you. Your breath hitches at the stretch, head lolling back against the hardwood as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Mine,” he grits through his teeth, forehead pressed to yours, his hips grinding deeper as you cling to him. “You’re mine, baby. Always—always mine.”

You nod, panting, eyes glassy. “All yours,” you whisper. “Only yours, Joel.”

And then he moves.

Hard.

Desperate.

Unrelenting.

He fucks you like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth, like if he stops, he’ll unravel entirely. One arm hooks under your knee, pushing you open, deeper than before. His hips slap against yours, raw and hopelessly, but it’s not about getting off.

It’s about feeling you.

Every squeeze, every tremble, every gasp that leaves your mouth when he hits that perfect spot. 

Joel’s never felt like this before.

So angry.

So scared.

So in love.

He fucks you like he’s trying to imprint himself inside your body. His thrusts stitch you back to him, sealing you inside his chest so you can never leave. A mess of skin-on-skin and heat and slick as the two of you meet again and again and again.

“Could’ve lost you,” he growls against your throat. “Fuck, honey, I could’ve—Jesus—”

You wrap your arms around him. “You didn’t,” you whisper. “I’m here, Joel—I’m yours—”

He groans, hips stuttering, thrusts turning frantic. He can tell he’s close, that he’s been close since he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Say it again,” he pants, slamming into you with a low, wrecked noise. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp. “Always yours—fuck, Joel—”

You wrap your arms tighter around him, pulling him closer. Your nails dig into his skin through the thin layer of his undershirt, legs locking around his waist to keep him pressed against you like you’re scared he’ll let go.

Joel doesn’t let go. He’d never let go. Not even when you moan his name like a prayer, not even when your nails rake down his back, not even when you gasp out a warning, your voice thin and needy. “Joel, I—gonna—”

“I know, baby. I got you.” His hand snakes down between you, finding your clit and rubbing quick circles over it, desperate to feel you come. “Wanna feel you. Need to—fuck—need to feel you, sweetheart. Please.”

You shatter in his arms with a broken sob, clenching hard around him as your body jerks, overwhelmed and too raw to hide it. Joel feels you pulse around his cock, the tight warmth of your cunt milking him.

It’s too much, and he’s coming with a groan that sounds like it’s been clawed from his chest. He buries himself to the hilt, hips jerking with every pulse, breath catching in your ear. “Fuck, fuck—” he pants, voice hoarse, “—love you, I love you, I thought I lost you, baby, I can’t…”

You’re both trembling when it ends.

Joel holds you there for a long time, forehead resting against yours, still buried deep inside you. He still won’t let you go. Not yet.

Eventually, when he’s calmed, he pulls back just enough to look at you.

You expect that same look from earlier—rage, fear, guilt—but it’s not there. Just love. Just deep, aching relief.

“I can’t lose you,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

You reach up, trace the curve of his brow, the edge of his jaw. “You won’t have to,” you whisper.

Joel kisses you again. Softer this time. Sweeter. A delicate press of lips against lips. His fingers stroke your cheek, pulling back enough for his eyes to trace along your face. He follows the line of your brows, the shape of your nose, the soft curve of your lips.

He can’t feel anything other than love.

Gentle. Solid. Steady.

It’s only love.

mini nat's note: everyone please send good vibes for my hell sent ch*m final on monday...i literally need all the luck i can get. thank you so much for reading! mwah.

[vernonetics]

“love, actually” — cl16

summary — little sainz, the rising actress and leclerc’s ex (not for long)

fc & cw — camila morrone. again, boring. timeline might not make sense but do we really care. i think there’s no big warnings.

🎵 good looking boy — suki waterhouse

tagged: sukiwaterhouse, rileykeough

liked by carlossainz55, sukiwaterhouse and 589,623 others

sainzyn i will always love you

see comments

sukiwaterhouse my baby girls 🤍🪽

carlossainz55 la sutileza no es algo de familia — subtlety’s not a family thing

user3 oh charles you fumbled so hard ..

rileykeough 70s girls

sainzyn co-girlfriends 👯‍♀️

user14 i don’t think im ready to see these 3 in one screen 😭

iamrebeccad miss you baby

sainzyn i miss you more honey

🎵 silver springs — fleetwood mac

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 571,827 others

sainzyn women who love too much.

aaaand, that’s a wrap on the wildest, most beautiful chapter of my life so far. 🌼🎸 to the cast who became my family, to the crew who made every stressful moment look like magic, thank you.

and to camila dunne, thank you for teaching me softness and strength all at once.

y a la niña que soñaba con momentos así, espero estés orgullosa 🤍 — and to the girl who dreamt of moments like these, i hope you’re proud

see comments

carlossainz55 no podría estar mas orgulloso de ti pequeña, mereces todo esto y más 💙

sainzyn te amo 💙

rileykeough can’t wait for the world to fall in love with you the way we did 🧡 the heart of the six.

sukiwaterhouse your final scene left me crying. my golden girl 🥹

user15 charles liked this.. oh i hate him

mrsamclaflin i’m beyond proud of you.

user6 can’t wait to cry my eyes out for camila 😭

user9 song choice…

user72 you guys look into it too much.. the book was slightly based off of stevie and lindsey

lewishamilton so proud 🩶

sainzyn hami 🩶

liked by pierregasly and 548,719 others

charles_leclerc 2023 season 🏎️

see comments

user18 hard launching a new girlfriend months after breaking up with yn and with a fleetwood mac vinyl is crazy work

pierregasly bold move mon frère 🫣

user17 be so fr rn.

arthur_leclerc soo, no more likes for [redacted]??

carlossainz55 interesting timing

user67 you have 30 minutes percy boy

user8 i’m throwing up charles please delete this

user92 charles is allowed to do whatever he wants, he’s a grown man who doesn’t have to be stuck on the same girl 🤷‍♀️ it’s not his fault her and her fans haven’t moved on

user5 i don’t think you can move on from a 3 year relationship in 4 months, but that’s just me i guess 😟

user56 guys carlos commented.. what if that’s yn?

user47 that’s what i’m sayinggg

liked by carlossainz55, iamrebeccad, kikagomes and 456,180 others

sainzyn carlos is third wheeling me and my wife

see comments

iamrebeccad let’s go on a date and leave these two alone baby

sainzyn asap

carlossainz55 excuse me??? you’re the third wheel here

user7 oh she has a man too..

user56 haha oh wow okay

user38 you bitches are dumb because that’s very obviously charles.

kikagomes i believe my invite got lost in the mail..

sainzyn sorry baby i have beef with pierre rn but i’ll send my jet for you 💋💋

iamrebeccad added content to their stories.

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossains55, iamrebeccad and 672,829 others

sainzyn god forbid a girl gets back with her ex

see comments

iamrebeccad sorry

sainzyn oh baby no you did the lords work because people were clueless even though it was obvious

charles_leclerc te amo ❤️

sainzyn te amo más, mi corazón 🤍

landonorris audibly gasped

sainzyn bitch shut up you knew all along

user62 i’m up for a threesome guys ❤️

carlossainz55 👍❤️

user38 see. i said yall were dumb and i was right

charles_leclerc je suis pas ton ex though 🤷🏻‍♂️

liked by sainzyn, pierregasly, kikagomes and 789,203 others

charles_leclerc you already know how proud i am. i told you after every scene, every night you thought you could’ve done better.

but this is less about what the world sees and more about what i get to come home to. thank you for taking me back when you didn’t have to. for choosing me again.

i’ve watched you lose yourself in this and still find your way back to me. i don’t take that lightly.

te amo, mon cœur. always. 🤍

see comments

user82 i’m crying real tears.. this is cinema

sainzyn couldn’t be more happy. je t’aime, mi vida.

carlossainz55 👏

pierregasly tell your girlfriend to leave MY girlfriend alone

sainzyn ?? i’ve known her longer than you shut up shes mine

user75 ynles community we win again

user9 okay now get married

kikagomes losing her to a man AGAIN.

user62 i stand on what i said about that threesome guys ☺️

[shy9-29]

omg I love seeing new creators on tumblr! But hear me out.. do you know how Jake was showing engene a video or smth on his laptop, then an ad came out and it sounded like a girl moaning?? Could you make it seem like it was actually jake and y/n’s intimate moment from last night that Jake recorded and it happened to be saved on his laptop? Tysm also early happy new years 🎉🥳

Uncovering Secrets: Jake’s Weverse Slip-up

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader

wc: 941

synopsis: your boyfriend Jake decides to go live on weverse in one of HYBE’s studio rooms, while you’re sitting off camera, waiting for him to finish. A specific comment comes up, leading Jake to turn on his laptop, revealing an intimate video of you two that he took from last night.

authors note: wow. Okay I’m proud of this one 🤓 also I’m pretty sure you meant this video but if not, I’m so sorry 😢 it took me quite some time to write this but lmk if you have any more suggestions as my requests are currently OPEN 🤗

warning: nsfw, harsh language, jake is an idol, minor degrading, protected sex, mentions of jungwon, not proof read recorded sex. lmk if I missed anything

age: 18+ minors dni.

—

As Jake began his Weverse Live for engenes, the viewer count were already at 900k people. Sitting at a desk, he placed his phone against a laptop, allowing them to see his face, but not his screen.

He scanned through the chat, which was brimming with comments, and a particular one caught his eye—“What song have you been playing non-stop?”

“Non-stop, huh?" Jake grins into the camera, contemplating for a moment before his lips curve into a sly smirk.

“There's this one song I can't seem to get out of my head recently." He looks back at his laptop, clicking on his mouse a couple times before turning back to the camera.

He momentarily diverts his attention to the laptop, his cursor clicking a few times before he refocuses on the camera. "So the song is called 'Overdrive' by Post Malone," he explains, his expression showcasing a cheeky yet playful side.

His gaze subtly flickers in your direction, noticing you scrolling on your phone with your legs crossed, waiting for him to conclude his live. “It came out-like yesterday, and it’s really good so imma play it,” he says. A sound of a mouse being clicked is heard afterwards.

Jake impatiently taps his foot, waiting for the laptop to come back to life. And then, without warning, the sounds of rhythmic slapping and guttural grunts, mixed with high-pitched moans, start echoing through the live feed.

Your heart sinks as you realize what's happening—it’s the video he took of your guy’s intimate session from last night. Frozen in your spot, you glance nervously at the laptop, hoping that his fans won't catch sight of you.

Jake panics as he tries to keep a casual demure, hoping there aren’t too many questions from engenes coming in. He mumbles something under his breath that no one can’t quite make sense of, a look of panic in his eyes.

“This is not it,” he says casually, the sounds of clicking getting faster as his laptop is frozen in place.

“Uh,” Jake says, his mind racing at the sight of the comments flooding in. “Wait,” he mutters. His eyes flicker back and forth between the frozen laptop and the camera. You then decide to take action, stepping behind the camera to end the live.

As the live feed abruptly ends, Jake lets out a sigh of relief, his heart racing. He turns to face you, his eyes wide with panic and embarrassment. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” he grumbles, running a hand through his black hair, tugging at the strands.

The room fills with the sounds of the video you captured and Jake's labored breathing. You break the silence, your voice cutting through the air. "Jake, what's that video doing on your laptop?" you inquire, your gaze locked on the laptop, the video now showing Jake pounding into you relentlessly, your hair all messed up and ruined as you hear him saying, “yeah? being such a good girl for me huh?”

Jake's face turns beet red as he quickly slams the laptop shut, the sounds of your moans and his grunts immediately silenced. He avoids your gaze, his ears burning with embarrassment. “I-I don't know, it must have autoloaded or something...”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room, avoiding your accusing gaze. He knows he's caught red-handed, the evidence of his secret recording plain as day on the laptop screen. He swallows hard, his mind racing for an excuse, any excuse.

Finally looking at you, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment, he admits in a small voice "I... I recorded it because I wanted to watch it again. You were just... I got carried away..." He runs a hand through his hair again, tugging at the ends nervously.

You sigh at his words, slouching back down into the couch. “Okay..” you start off, “well what are you going to do with engenes? the whole video is downloaded onto weverse..”

His expression turns grave, his mind racing with the implications. He pulls out his phone, navigating to Weverse and seeing the numerous screenshots and clips being shared among engenes. He swallows hard, his palms sweating, then letting out a mixture of a sigh and a laugh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"They're either going to assume I'm just really horny or that I forgot to click off porn," he chuckles, attempting to lessen the tension as he stretches his arms behind his back.

His eyes meet yours, a mix of embarrassment and amusement in them* "Or both, probably," he adds with a faint smile, trying to lighten the mood. He stretches his arms behind his back, trying to ease the tension.

Suddenly, the door swings open forcefully, and Jungwon stomps into the room, an urgent tone in his voice.

"Jake, what did you just do?"

—

idssoowosos:dkskwi lwk I’d freak 😭 reblog to show support <3

[gothamite-rambler]

Jon Kent looked up at Nightwing, amazed by the man standing before him. Nightwing glanced around for a moment, wondering why the young superhero was staring at him.

Jon: You're so cool-looking and so handsome! You could be a model.

Nightwing (pointing at himself): Me?

Jon (nodding): Mm-hm.

Nightwing: Oh, thank you! But I'm more than just a pretty face, though my face is perfect, too.

Jon: You're so right! Yet you fight crime, you're a true hero! I've heard stories about you, and… and you're just as awesome as Batman! If not more!

Superman (laughing): Oh! Oh wow! I— I needed that! I should've recorded that!

Batman (crossing his arms): Alright, it's not that funny.

Nightwing (proud smile): Really? Aww, thank you! I trained with him, but I'm only human.

Jon (bouncing): You're like a superhuman, and you're so nice! You’ve done so much in such a short time as a hero. You're like twenty, right?

Superman laughed harder in the background, while Batman grew annoyed. Nightwing smiled, grateful for his good skincare routine.

Jon stopped bouncing and gave Nightwing a big hug. The hero stared down at the child, surprised this was happening again.

Nightwing: I get that you admire me, and being excited about meeting me again makes sense, but if you don’t mind me asking, why? You have superpowers.

Jon: And you save the day without them!

Jon sniffled with a smile that made Nightwing smile back.

Jon: I want to be like you someday!

Nightwing (picking up Jon and hugging him tighter): And you will! I’ll make it happen! Bruce, call a guy!

Batman: I'm not calling a guy. Clark, quit laughing!

Superman had to excuse himself as he laughed at his friend’s jealousy and annoyance at being upstaged again.

Nightwing: Jon, I can't promise to be the perfect role model for you, but if you ever need help with training, you can call me.

Jon: Aww, yay!

Batman (mumbling monotone): That is adorable.

[andhumanslovedstories]

Last two shifts I worked, I had the same patients but was precepting (training) different nurses. So two nights in a row, I have a patient with a post-op complication (guts not moving) that the surgeons are taking a conservative approach to (wait and see if the gut starts moving). This treatment plan makes sense for the specifics of this patient, but that means we’re doing a lot of symptom management without directly treating the thing that’s causing the symptoms. In this case, symptoms are pain and nausea so bad that the patient said if they’d known this is how they’d feel after, they’d have skipped the surgery and just rolled the dice with what that colon polyp would do if left alone.

So we’re throwing meds at this patient, we’re walking them so their bowels can get moving, we’re giving ice chips and gum and cold wash clothes, we’re giving IV fluids (which is SUPER rare in the hospital right now because due to one of the recent hurricanes, we are critically low on IV fluids), we’re doing basically all my tricks short of putting another tube in this guy. And it’s working okay. Like we’re keeping pain and nausea just below “intolerable” but not by much.

That first night I have that patient, while I’m talking to the surgeon on the phone, my preceptee is in the room talking to the patient. I don’t get any new orders because most usual meds that would help are contraindicated in this particular circumstance. I’m feeling frustrated about that—I HATE when I can’t get symptoms significantly under control—when my preceptee comes up excitedly and says that the patient says they’re feeling much better after the therapeutic intervention my preceptor did. The intervention was hanging out in the room for 15 mins and talking with the patient about their hometown in Canada.

(Which, hell yeah. Very proud of that new nurse because she said one of the biggest things she wanted to work on was being less nervous talking to patients.)

Next night, I got the same patient, still miserable, and a new preceptee. We’ve got more meds this time, but still only marginal success with managing symptoms. I tell my preceptee, “next time you’re in the room, plan on staying and chatting with the patient for like ten minutes.” Next time we’re in the room, we do just that—we talk sports, hobbies, plans, past surgeries, how much this surgery sucks, just the three of us shooting the shit for a while before we have to go give pain meds to another patient. (It was a surgical floor. That night was mostly handing out ice packs and oxy.)

Anyway, the patient tells us that this chat has been the best they’ve felt all night. My preceptee comes out of the room, and my preceptee is like “wow that really was our best intervention.” And I get to be like “yes witness the power of chit chat as nursing intervention.”

Reflecting back, I’m grateful that the patient was so expressive about what we did that was working. I told the patient at one point, in the midst of their most acute misery, that we were going to give them everything we had available, and if that didn’t work, I had backup plans in mind. Like you might spend the night miserable, but it’s not because we didn’t keep trying stuff. And after I say that, the patient goes, “that was good, I like that you said that, that comforted me.” Which was very nice and convenient because before we’d gone into the room, I’d talked to my preceptee about how to make patients feel supported and cared for, even when none of the care we do is working. When we left after that, my preceptee was like “wow, you’re right, that really worked,” and I was like, “I KNOW, that’s cool right? I mean you always hope it works, but sometimes you just can’t tell if it actually does.”

I love really open patients, they are such fantastic teaching opportunities. For example, I had another patient both night who was also very open, specifically about what a bad job the hospital was doing and how everyone should just stay the hell out of their room. Considerably less pleasant feedback, equally valuable, about essentially the exact same situation that the first patient was in. Talking through that patient with my preceptees was also very useful and very easy, because the patient had been so explicit in their feedback.

It’s always odd training nurses because you don’t want bad things to happen to your patients, but you also need to new nurses to see bad things. And sometimes you get a patient assignment that is so good for teaching, it’s like it came from a textbook. Very convenient for me personally as a preceptor. Feels weird to say that about patients who are having absolutely miserable times, that their misery is useful to me, but (as preceptors normally say about stuff like this) if it’s happening, at least it’s happening where we can learn about it. Anyway, great couple of shifts to practice therapeutic communication.

[bunni-v1]

so shadow milk legendary costume is coming so can we get more content of pre-corruption smilk 😝😝😭 pretty please and thank you ♥️

🍓Again I’m gonna call him Blueberry Yogurt because typing out pre corruption is annoying as fuck. Anyway, yes you can pookie mwah mwah mwah! These are short, but I still hope u like them :)

-Blueberry Yogurt is veryyyyy different from Shadow Milk. Shadow Milk describes his past self as a “Goody two shoes wet rag with no personality,” and while he’s being dramatic I don’t think he’s far off.

-Blueberry Yogurt is contemplative, gentle, kind, and above all else caring. He loves his subjects and his friends and he aims to share his knowledge with everyone. He’s in all sense of the word harmless. A sweet cookie with nothing but good intentions.

-He’s, essentially, his position as sage. And he doesn’t mind that, but he’s never really considered that he could be anything more. It’s what he was baked for, of course.

-Booooriiingggggg, as Shadow Milk would put it. But Blueberry Yogurt was content with things, it’s only after he realized cookies turn from the truth — mixed with the understanding of the sheer amount of power he held, that his mind changed.

-You we’re part of that realization. That, maybe, he could be more than what he was. That the life he lived wasn’t all it seemed to be. He was never made to fall in love, but he did, whose to say there isn’t more for him out there?

-But before that, he was likely the perfect partner to have. He cares a lot about his partner and their well-being, and he wants to be their total equal, even if they’re weaker than him.

-He spends a lot of his spare time with you. He’s an incredibly busy cookie with too many things to do, but he will always find time to spend on you. You are a high priority in his life, and he makes sure you know that.

-He likes having you around him, even when you aren’t doing the same things. Just you being there brings him peace of mind and makes him feel content.

-You being educated is equally important to him, so he takes the time to have conversations about serious topics. He’s particularly fond of reading with you and discussing the books with a critical eye. He won’t let you be blind to the truth, and if you’re afraid of it, he’ll work with you to ensure you aren’t.

-He’ll take you around the town when he visits, and most cookies know you as “The Sage’s Lover”. He won’t admit it, but that fact makes him proud. He loves to show you off, and he loves the fact that others know you’re together.

-Oh he does this cute thing where he’ll sweep you up in his arms and dance around with you. He’ll press you tightly against his body and swirl around like you’re at a real ball.

-He is so much more open about how much he loves you. He has no reason to hide or fear his affections for you, so he just doesn’t. His love is unabashedly displayed through physical touch as Blueberry Yogurt.

-Soft and gentle kisses pressed upon you dough. He burns into your dough his love for you so that you never forgot how much you are adored.

-He pulls you close and whispers his adoration like a prayer, as if to convince you of his love for you. Like you might forget if he doesn’t remind you so tenderly.

-He treats you to beautiful dates in locations you’ve only dreamed about, each one more heartfelt and romantic than the last. They’re built specifically to wow you, and he’s phenomenal at his job.

-He also gives you gifts all the time, hand made or things he found around the kingdom, it doesn’t matter. They’re all things you’ll make good use of, he makes sure of that.

-His goal is to make you feel considered and thought of. Again, he’s very successful. Everything he does takes you into account, and you become a very important part of his day to day life.

-One thing he does that Shadow Milk keeps is his love for carrying you around. It’s not a strength thing, he isn’t showing off, he just loves carrying you around. He feels like he can really care for you like that, so he does it as much as he can.

-He’s also very protective of you. He doesn’t stop you from engaging difficult topics and finding out truths, but he does stop others from disturbing your peace. It’s the one time he’ll use his magical abilities for selfish reasons, his need to keep you safe and happy winning out his morals for once.

-This is why when he feels himself… slipping… he sends you away as soon as he can. He doesn’t want you to think of him differently, and he’ll even take extra measures to ensure he won’t find you once he’s fully gone. (It’s the most annoying thing about himself, if you ask Shadow Milk. He plans for everything far too well.)

-It does ache and pain him to be so far from you when he does it, but it’s more important to him that you are safe. Even if it means you have to be safe from him.

[thetrasha]

I really liked your law x baker!reader 🤭 law eating the bread anyway for the save of his cutie baker crush IS JUST SO CUTE

“I… Is your heartbeat arrhythmic right now, too?” Bro that line almost made me explode with confetti he’s such a cute little geek omg

Sorry back on topic I was wondering if you could do the Law x Baker!reader thing again, but it’s where they’re already dating. So you know the “would you still love me if I was a worm” Thing?

What if Y/n is baking pastries for luffy with Sanji. Y/n is having a blast at the alliance hang out, I mean after all, it’s not everyday you get to bake with another skilled cook! Especially when making bread! (Which y/n had kinda stopped making b/c she felt bad for making law suffer like that)

And law is just peeking through the window of the kitchen door like a little brooding loser 😭🙏 once the two go back to the submarine law is pouting into Y/n’s shoulder (in his room cuz we all know he’d rather eat mountains of bread than be caught like that)

“Would you love me more if I liked bread..? Would you also love me more if I was a good cook…?”

I rlly don’t think I cooked with this one I’m sorry you don’t gotta do this if you don’t wanna 😭🙏

Hello! <3 Thank you so much for the nice comments you've left :D I read them all and I'm so happy to see you in my requests like that. Seriously, thank you so much for liking the baker!reader x Law fic I wrote... weeks ago LOL 😭 And wow, someone pointing out specific dialogue (●'◡'●) I'm so happy!! Law's a real pain to portray correctly, especially in a romantic setting so I'm just glad people enjoy what I've got to say hehe~~

I changed the request ever so slightly but kept its essence! I hope you're happy with it, I'm pretty proud of the outcome :D And you don't have to badmouth your own idea! Even if I don't end up taking request, I appreciate every single thought that ends up in my inbox. Cooking is cooking LOL

! This story can be read as a standalone piece, but is meant to be a continuation !

Sweeter Than Honey

includes: pastry chef/ baker reader

feat. LAW

part one - "Sweet As Pie"

Your relationship with Law was… unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. He was still the same man you’ve got to know during your shared journey, but you’ve come to see him in a different light, from a different angle… slowly. At first, you’d thought that he’d remain rigid and interact with you quite awkwardly especially because he was still your Captain, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Law might have been subtle and his love had a bit of a simmering quality that was quickly drowned out by the madness that accompanied you aboard the Polar Tang, but he wasn’t cold at all. His affections manifested in different ways – you were aware, from the very beginning, that he wouldn’t be the type to be obvious about his feelings for you; he wasn’t embarrassed by you by any means, he was just very private and, thus, reserved.

There were no sensual kisses shared in public places, no candlelit dinners by the shore, no cutesy petnames… but that wasn’t what you wanted either. Law gave you what most others couldn’t: He saw you as someone worth putting his all into. He trusted you – honestly and wholeheartedly.

So… there might have been no grand romantic gestures that made it obvious that you two belonged together, but there were long conversations in the middle of the night, revealing things to one another that you’ve never told another soul, there were questions that seemed larger than life itself – Law, superficially, already knew you, you’ve been on the same crew for about a year, but he wanted to know your soul, what makes you tick… Nobody else has ever asked you about your dreams, your sense of justice, what it means to grief, whether people deserve to suffer… Your boyfriend sought a connection, yearned for someone to be vulnerable with and you could but smile sweetly at his efforts. You unravelled him without even trying, slowly made him change his beliefs by sharing your own, but he would never stray from his core identity. Law had integrity, honour and took pride in who he was, even if he was, at the same time, deeply critical of himself and ashamed of what he was capable of. In his mind, he was a monster who could only take and destroy, someone who wasn’t worthy of love… but there you were, always gracing him with everything he’s ever craved in secret.

It made him… shy, to love so deeply. He would never be able to put his thoughts into words – not because he wasn’t sophisticated enough, but because there was no word to accurately describe what he’s felt for you.

You were brilliant… a pearl among sea glass. To think he’s the one to find you; he couldn’t count himself any luckier. You looked at him like deserved to live, never questioned his place in the word. You wanted him here, right by your side. That’s how deep your care went, you were just as devoted to him as he was to you, you just liked to show it, guide him along… make him see all life’s got to offer. It was marvellous how your mere presence completely shattered his cynicism towards… life – that there was more to it than retribution.

His past mistakes wouldn’t define him; logically, he knew that, but you still told him time and time again, demanding to lift his burdens… just for a while, one at a time. Back then, you had no idea that it had an effect on him at all, you simply did it out of the goodness of your heart and because you desired to see him smile.

Only one other person has ever put that much effort into building a relationship with him… and sadly, you will never meet the man who’s inspired Law to sail the seas and find you, his very own peace.

He truly needed you more than the air that he breathed.

Like moon needs sun,

like cold needs warmth,

like sorrow needs joy,

sigh… like bread needs yeast –

– he needed you.

And he loved you, more than you’ll ever know.

…Maybe that’s why this current arrangement irked him so much.

He shouldn’t have ever taken you to Dressrosa with him. Why he agreed to your ridiculous request to pick you up from the nearest habitable island to Punk Hazard was beyond him in the first place.

Yeah, he missed you. Yes, he knew that you missed him, too… and he couldn’t be more grateful.

You should be on the Polar Tang, far away from him, though. You would be under protection since Law was still a Warlord of the Sea… you would be safe. And you wouldn’t have to watch your partner kill his tormentor.

And, well, that damned Straw Hat cook wouldn’t have had the chance to be all over you.

“Tell me more about this focaccia, (Y/N)-swan!”, Sanji mused with hearts in his eyes. It got so bad that the people sitting nearby, occupying the breakfast nook – Law among them – were absolutely ignored. Even the navigator.

“Well…”, you smiled, pointing at the second dough you’ve prepared yesterday evening, just after you’ve joined this… makeshift alliance, “It’s a type of flatbread from the hottest parts of the North Blue. I love to pair it with a good tomato soup, that’s why I always add garlic, fresh onions and rosemary.”

“I’ll make on right away, my beautiful patisserie chef!”

“Ahaha, thanks, Sanji… what an honour to stand next to someone who worked at the Baratie… what was it like? How’s Chef- eh… Captain Zeff? Is he a nice man? I’ve never been to the East Blue, so-”

It was the first time your voice caused Law to click his tongue before grinding his teeth against one another in frustration. That idiot cook made him onigiri after shockingly learning that he wouldn’t eat the sandwiches he planned to make, but he still hated that man’s guts.

Of course you’d hit it off with another chef. Rumour has it that Sanji was the most talented chef in the making… if Straw Hat-ya’s word was to be believed, which it absolutely wasn’t… still, those onigiri weren’t half bad. The rice was soft but chewy and the tuna-mayo filling, well, satisfactory. He much preferred your cooking, even if you insisted on cute little gimmicks like star-shaped carrots sometimes. As bizarre as it was, it always made him blush… and he saved those godforsaken snacks every single time, chewing on it much more cautiously than he usually would. Law knew that it made you happy to see him just as content with life and you graced his cheek with a peck every time, without fail. Like a sacred ritual.

Today, he would get none of that – even though you were present.

You were making food for Straw Hat-ya and his crew. You were helping Sanji.

Law wouldn’t ever say that he’s a jealous person at all. If anything, he understood that you were faithful and totally loyal to him and let you roam free, knowing that you’ll always stand by his side. He would never try to sabotage you when you were just wanting some more friends, especially after you’ve had it quite rough after your Captain became a Warlord. No name pirates still tried challenging you… and you were no fighter. You just… well, you learnt to defend yourself – had to. Your boyfriend thought that was admirable; he praised you for your personal development and even stole a kiss from you aboard the Sunny… just to tell you that he would always be there to protect you if it came down to it.

So… why did he feel so helpless now? His eyes darted back towards the blond chef who was marvelling at your skills in the kitchen. That moron didn’t even know what he was looking at! You were so much more versatile, could whip up more than bread. The fact that Sanji kept focusing on that… somehow, it made the rice of those onigiris turn sour.

“Torao, are you going to eat that?” Luffy asked with a smile, pointing at Law’s abandoned plate by he was still waiting for his meaty sandwiches.

“Take as much as you please.” Law answered coldly, rolling his eyes at the offensive food.

“THANKS! You’re the best! We’re going to be best fr-”

“NO! We are no more than-” Just before he could protest, Zoro sent a smirk his way while nursing a beer bottle.

“You know that it doesn’t work on him, don’t you?” The swordsman commented coolly, chuckling at Law’s expression of frustration.

And for the remaining part of the evening, Law had to watch while you shared food with anyone but him… because everyone but him liked bread.

And he knew that it was childish. He knew it, okay! This shouldn’t even affect him. His plan was finally coming together. Soon, they’ll reach Dressrosa. Hell, they’ve captured Caesar! Doflamingo will call first thing in the morning, abdicating from the Warlord system and leaving him vulnerable to… everyone. Law and the Straw Hat Pirates will be after his head, Kaidou won’t be too happy about Caesar’s capture either if the production of SMILEs screeched to a halt, every single underground broker will want to murder him for the chaos that wretched false king has caused. And if all things go wrong, maybe the Navy will just order a Buster Call on Dressrosa. Anything would be better than the status quo!

Law had all of that to worry about… not to mention that you were here as well. He didn’t know whether he has the heart to leave you on the Thousand Sunny to sail to Zou while he finished his business with Doflamingo himself. He wants you to be safe and away from the mess he’s undoubtedly going to cause. Law is well aware that the outcome of this battle will usher in a new era of piracy. Whether it’s going to put people in shackles or free them, he couldn’t possibly know at this time. All he wants is to repay Cora-san.

That klutz would adore you, probably like you more than Law, he’d be so happy for the boy he sav-

“You’re brooding.” You chuckled upon finding your boyfriend in the men’s quarters all by himself while the Straw Hat crew partied… and Nami had a few words with Caesar about his laboratory. She sounded livid and you didn’t want to be around her when she spat venom at the mad scientist.

Law looked up to find you leaning against the door frame, crossing your arms over your chest.

He would never tell you, but you looked… better and worse without the Heart Pirates’ boiler suit. One the one hand, looking at you felt much more intimate now that you wore pieces you liked – they weren’t particularly practical, but you were so, so pretty… On the other hand, though, nobody knew who you belonged to. You were a member of his crew and nobody else’s.

Especially not… Straw Hat-ya’s.

“I am not. I am reading.” He clicked his tongue before grabbing a “medical journal” off Chopper’s bedside table, not knowing how to conceal the fact that he was… pouting.

You rolled your eyes with a smile before taking the book from him.

“…’A Comprehensive Guide to Hoof Cleaning’ How to Care for Your’ – and the word ‘horse’ is crossed out several times?”, you read before giggling, “Ah, yes. Classic Law.”

You threw the book away into someone else’s hammock before sitting down next to… the Captain… who was sliding down the while as he pinched the bridge of his nose with rosy-red cheeks.

You smiled wryly, reaching out to take his hat from him, at which he glared for just a second before noticing that you put it on.

Then you angled your body towards him, embracing him with all you’ve got.

“I’m so glad you’re back. Are you okay? I’m so sorry I went to bed so early yesterday. I didn’t even tell you that I loved you. I love you, Law. You know that, don’t you? God, are you really okay? I…”

This is exactly why he couldn’t just leave you. You were… perfect. You were separated for God knows how long and the first thing you ask about is his well-being? That’s not… all the Donquixote executives ever asked him was whether the mission was a success.

“I am fine. Yes, I do know. I love you, too, (Y/N)-ya. Yes, I am. The… I destroyed the SAD production facility. And Vice Admiral Vergo who was acting as a double ag-”

“I am glad, but I knew you were going to do it! I believed in you!”, your bright smile almost blinded him – and then he yelped when you cuddled further into him, burying your face in his jacket, “I’m so relieved you’re alright. I saw the state the others were in and – my God…”

Law shut you up with a surprisingly sensual kiss that made you open your eyes wide as soon as you felt it. His arms circled your waist as he dove in, teasing you ever so slightly with ghostly touches. His lips touched yours quite passionately as he leaned in to push his weight into you, holding you flush against him.

Honestly, he didn’t know where it came from, but hearing you voice your care for him… it did something. For once, his heart leaped, drumming against his chest with an angry beat that he feared would ring across the Sunny if it was any louder. And he no longer felt any remnants of envy towards any of the Straw Hats.

You were his in every way possible – and Law was yours, naturally.

Only you could understand him wordlessly.

You pressed another kiss to his forehead, softly caressing his stubbled jaw with your fingers.

His eyes immediately met yours in an intense stare that had him looking away after mere seconds. You shyly giggled while he took his hat back from you, pulling it into his face with a fake cough.

“So… you still love me, right? Even though I don’t like bread?”

“You…”, you laughed, fingering his black locks at the base of his skull while he pulled you into his lap to hold you even closer, “…idiot. Of course I do!”

“Good.”, was all that he whispered, “You’re… everything to me.”

And you knew that you would have to make a nice comfort meal for him tomorrow.

Law deserved it, because… he looked out for everyone but himself. You knew that he got injured. Sanji told you as much when your dear boyfriend angrily stomped out of the kitchen as Luffy cleared his plate for him. He probably performed surgery on himself – again and again.

And he wouldn’t tell you. You’ve read the letters he’s sent you… all he wanted was for you to be okay. In a way, this man was just like you.

You were glad that he could be selfish about this one thing at least, especially because it brought out his jealous side… who knew he could be so cute?

[babydoll372]

could you please do natasha romanoff x reader smut that's overall pretty sweet and domestic? That's all i really want, you can add anything that you would like <3 thank you for writing just in general even if you don't do this one <3

Stand By Me

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 1984

Warnings: smut, fluff, fingering, squirting, plz pretend gay marriages existed in 1990’s, mentions of children, overstimulation

A/N: the text makes a lot more sense if you listen to the music with it (It’s a really good song too) Also set in 1990’s because I think it’s cute so picture the early black widow Ohio home without the redroom :) (also ik I said I’d write longer fics now but I really thought this would be long and it wasn’t somehow)

Natasha rolled her shoulders against her hands tiredly after shutting the door behind her. She could only hope that the small three-year-old was able to sleep the night alone this time, not to further enhance the dark bags under the redhead’s eyes. A yawn left her lips, and she stumbled into the kitchen, setting the baby monitor down on the counter quietly as you sent her a quick smile, your hands wiping dry the last dish with a small rag.

“All kids are officially in bed. Lena threw a small tantrum, Peter was exhausted, so he was quite easy, and Alexandria required only two books tonight. I would say it was a success.” You offered a light chuckle to your wife’s humorous entreaty, raising your hand as she gave a weak high five in response. You switched bedtimes every night so that one of you could get chores around the house done, and the other could get a few extra minutes with each child before sending them off to a slumber. After six years of having children, you have both been able to form efficient habits and rules that made different parts of your lives much easier - this being one of them.

“I’m very proud of you, baby.” You moved closer to her, your hands now taking place on her hips. “So bed early tonight or late wine discussions?” She raised a brow as if the answer was obvious, and you quickly raced to the secret wine cooler you both hid in your basement. When doing so, with a large bottle in hand, your eyes stopped on the box sitting perfectly in front of you, as if calling your name. The basement was full of many items held in the same cardboard material that you had to get rid of someday, which is why you both decided on hiding the cooler downstairs, where the children had no interest in going. The contrasted black sharpie read, “Wedding Day” with a crappy drawing of two rings tied together next to it - Natasha drew that. You smiled at the fond memory, setting down the bottle carefully and opening the dust-ridden box. Tears streamed the ringing of your eyes as you slowly viewed each item, your hands falling on the cassette tape that held your wedding song. The date was labeled on it along with the name, and when you heard your wife calling you from upstairs, you knew you couldn’t leave it behind.

“Look what I stumbled upon,” Natasha turned to eye the small item in your hand, squinting ever so slightly to get a better look.

“Hey, that’s- that’s our wedding song. I thought we took all our wedding stuff out of the basement already…” She gently took the cassette from you and brushed it off, eyeing it carefully. “Wow, ‘May 23rd, 1986 - Stand By Me.’ That feels like just yesterday, somehow.” She then set it down on the countertop next to the wine you carried up. When you met her eyes, they were full of adoration and love, and her hands went around your waist to hold you closely and bring you in for a gentle kiss. One that still gave you butterflies over a decade later.

“Shall we play it?”

“We shall.” Natasha’s hand reached for yours as the beat began to softly roll out of the machine, low enough to not wake the children. She gave you a quick spin, and you giggled as a result. Her hands then found their way to your hips as they swayed in rhythm.

“When the night, has come…and the land is dark,”

“And the moon, is the only night we’ll see.” You continued for her, cupping her cheeks as you did many years ago. “No, I won’t be afraid- oh, I won’t be afraid.” Natasha smiled in return, one hand coming to interlace with yours and be kept in the air as her forehead made contact with yours in a resting position.

“Just as long…as you stand, stand by me.” She finished. As the chorus echoed through the background, you both hummed in a low tone, your voices just above whispers. And as the second verse began, you could feel Natasha’s soft sigh of relief as she heard your voice once again.

“If the sky…that we look upon, should tumble and fall,”

“Or the mountains…should crumble to the sea. I won’t cry-“

“I won’t cry. No, I won’t shed a tear…just as long, as you stand…stand by me.” And this time, your voice was the last to be heard. Her lips came to rest against the back of your palm, which she still held in the air, repeating the act a few times as the look in her eyes resembled one from many years ago. Complete silence began to fill around the two of you as the echoes faded. The music came to an end, and there was nothing but comforting emptiness.

Her mouth then found yours, her hand softly cupping your cheek as she let out a gentle moan of desperation. Your body tilted backwards at just below of a right angle, and her tongue traced over your entrance as it parted, granting her access. Your feet found themselves shuffling back a few steps until your butt hit the edge of the dining room table. You both pulled apart, trying to grasp any bit of air you could so you could quickly return. Natasha moved the chair beside you that was pushed into the table, hoisting you up onto the furniture. You both shared a quiet giggle, your noses touching as she hummed in contentment before slowly dropping to her knees, her eyes remaining on you the entire time. Your pants came off in a slow tease, yet the whimper describing your need caused her to quicken.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have married you.” She kissed your thighs between sentences, causing your cheeks to darken. One hand then held them apart as the other rested on your waist, her thumb stroking gently on your skin. There was a comforting silence between you two as her lips pressed gentle pecks to the fabric covering the one place she needed to see.

“Natasha…” Brought your low voice in a raspy whisper, your fingers treading through her hair like gentle waves. She eased your panties aside and licked her lips, feeling a lustful moisture surround her inner cheeks. She quickly shared a glance with you before pressing her tongue against your clit. You shuddered with a craving, and she repeated herself multiple times before trailing down to your hole, where she collected your sinful drops. Her eyes closed shut as she hummed in satisfaction, feeling your body's reaction, even if it was nearly unnoticeable at times. She finally pulled away for a split moment, grasping the back of your neck in her hand and pulling you forward with little force.

“I’ve got you, baby.” Her lips then met yours as she sighed with gratitude, two of her fingers coming to replace her tongue’s previous position. “I always do.” Her knees lifted themselves as she stood over you, her eyes boring into yours before she rested your head on her chest. She shushed you quietly, almost like a mother consoling her young, crying baby, as her digits eased into your awaiting entrance.

“It’s okay, big stretch…there we go. You’re okay.” She whispered, beginning a slow rocking motion with her fingers and trailing her gaze to where they met your cunt. “Fuck- you’re still so tight, and I fucking love it.” Her crude words sent a shiver down your spine and caused a moan to escape your lips. It was loud, but it was gladly muffled by her shirt. She then chuckled, creating a stronger and faster pace.

“Don’t wake the kids up, alright? As much as I love hearing how desperate this pussy is for me, I don’t need them seeing their Mommy like this.” You nodded, stuffing your hand over your mouth as the sounds of your squelching juices now outshone your octaves.

“Nat, I- I think-”

“I know, I know. Whenever you’re ready, you just let it out for me, this is on your own accord.” She assured, feeling you practically pulse around her two digits. Her cock was much larger, and she adored the way you handled her despite your struggle with such smaller amounts. She had been conditioning it since she first met you and saw your shocked face when she revealed her length, but now you were well-adjusted to accepting everything she gave you.

Your eyes squeezed shut when you came around her, and you expected her fingers to slow to a halt but they didn’t. You whimpered quite loudly, your hooded eyes coming to meet hers as your body continued to spasm, your thighs shaking.

“I can’t…” You shook your head, gulping down the need to comply and say yes, to beg for what she’s giving you.

“Yes, you can. Don’t even think about it, just hold onto me and let me do all the thinking for you.” A tear streamed down your cheek while she added a third finger, allowing you time to accept the addition and wiping your tear with her free hand. Her thumb felt the wetness seep onto its skin while she cupped your chin, allowing you to kiss her passionately and in turn silence your moans. Your legs wrapped around her and pulled her even closer as she began to slowly thrust in and out of you, creating a steady rhythm that just wasn’t the same as before. You pulled away from her plump lips for a moment, your breath shaky.

“Faster- please, Nat, I need you to- to go faster.” A sly smirk found its way to her lips as she nodded before returning her mouth to yours, her fingers gliding against your walls quickly. There was a hidden force to it, one that caused your back to simultaneously arch into her as the rest of your body developed goosebumps. There was something about her in specific that made you this way, and while you never experienced this with anyone else, you knew no one would ever compare. When you began dating, she was only a few months older than you, and had been with two other women sexually, but you had been with zero, regardless of the gender. She worried that marrying you would someday make you wish you could’ve explored your options more, that you would’ve felt closed off from only ever having intercourse with her. But it was the opposite. You never once questioned what another human being could offer because you knew you had everything you’d ever need in front of you. And she had never felt so comfortable with another person, and even she knew she could never offer what she gives to you to anyone else.

And so as your tongues collided willingly, and her fingers continued at a steady pace, you allowed yourself to let go. You knew that even as she silenced your moans, your love for one another spoke in greater volumes. The woman only pulled back when oxygen became scarce, because she would kiss you even if she ran out, even if her last breath was spent doing so. She glanced down to her shirt splattered with your arousal and grinned.

“You must really like me, huh?” You rolled your eyes, panting quietly as you turned her body to the direction of the bathroom, knowing she would instantly sense what you were requesting. And as she came back with a towel, despite the cloth seeming to have no meaning to many, you smiled drowsily and kissed her cheek.

“I’m so glad I married you, Natasha Romanoff.” She returned your expression, taking your hand and kissing its back gently.

“And I am so glad I asked you to marry me, Y/N Romanoff.”

[ladyoftheflowers-witch]

How do others perceive You 🌟

Pile 1

Pile 2

Pile 3

Pile 1: Ace of wands, The World, Six of spades.

Oh pile 2, you are dreamy in others eyes and you also inspire others in ways you can't imagine. People saw you make positive changes and that reflects in how you are more active and in control of your life and what you want from it. You are percieved as an adventurous soul, one that can bring strenght and sense of fight to those arround them and knows how to defend herself/ himself when feeling importunated by others. So you know how to make your rights respected and you have good and altruistic values. I'm proud of you pile 1.

People see you are a creative person, you put entusiasm in everything you do and people often gets carried away by this energy, because You make everything look easy and fun. Also people could come to You for advice sometimes. Pile 1 you know perfectly who you are and you know if you want to succed in life, effort must be made and so you go and do your work amazingly.

I know that others don't see your hustles and frustration, but you must recognize to yourself how strong and patient you are. You are almost stubborn in the face of difficulties, if life throws you down one time, you get up a thousand of times more.

How the opossite sex sees You :

Babe, you are like an angel. I see people dreaming about you and your beauty, you have long lashes, deep eyelids that could enchant the devil himself. People could write songs About You. The seer is lost in wonder, they could never compare you to anyone that they had met before.

You bring peace to others but also are capable of awaken the strongest passion without even realizing it, you are a temptation pile 1, it could be because is hard to get to know You for some reason. I sense that there are people who likes You but they don't even know your name. Or people can't spell your name outloud because they don't have anything bad to say about you.

Pile 2 : 10 of wands, Temperance, four of disk.

People see you are taking so much responsabilities, you are the type of person that are always working on something and when you are not, you are thinking about work, don't you? Your appearance changes a lot, You are like the seasons, always changing, one day you could be wearing the most coloured clothes and then You go all black, ir you could go for an androgenic style, one day you look súper feminine and the other the man in you is taking charge of the outfit.

Others perceive you as a social being, yet reserved and pacific, leaving an energy of antiphaty and detachment for those who only get to grasp an idea of you from afar. Because maybe You are social but selective, you tend to put tests to others, if they act with nobility and justice You accept them in your space, but if they fail to probé their core values to you, you don't even want them near you. As a result, people feel intimidated by you, those who don't understand you could feel envy, jelousy and doubts towards you. But you should really not pay attention to them, you are fine and protecting your energy.

For those who do know you, they recognize you as a caring person who is faithful to their frends, posess a lot of wisdom and maturity. Perhaps you are working in something that requires your concentration and action based on accurate calculation, like creating art or some other project that is not ready to be seen yet. Or recently you had a major glow up by exercising, changing your eating habits and taking more conscious of your body, you could lost some weight and your body is toned.

How the opossite sex sees you :

They see you as a goddess, you are elegant and your body shape is harmonious at sight, You look pretty without effort and people who likes You thinks of how sweet you are, you are even mistical ,your presence lights every room you walk in, leaving this ethereal energy yet so mundane in the air.

Pile 3: Death, Star, Moon.

Wow, You are the whole planetary system pile 3 Lol. People thinks that you have surmounted a Lot of loss in your personal life, they see You as a person who is sad but keeps going despite it all. I don't know what kind of loss you have suffered but the cards shows, and people see that You have changed for the better, if you lost a love relationship, don't worry, is their lost, they have lost a benefactor and an ally, I really feel bad for them, lots of karma going his way.

People who are friends with you thinks that you have greate intuition and that you search for answers on meditation, they know you are strong, but trust that they are there for what you need, you always will have their support, because maybe you helpped them in times of need too through spirituality, maybe you are a natural healer or you have inherited some specific psyquic habilities and you should be more confident about it . Let me know in the coments is so, i'm curious about what your habilities are.

People thinks you have a mysterious aura and intriguing personality, they sense that you can read the energy in the room and notice when someone feels off, this upsets people and draws them to you at the same time.

How the opossite sex sees you:

They feel attracted to you like a moth to a flame for this same feature, your mysterious personality and your spiritual aura tends to inspire and captivate the attention of others without you Even trying. You are sweet and delicate, you move with grace and your sense of fashion is eclectic. They think that despite you seeming unpredictable, you are wife material long way.

Oh and this is an edit, I forgot to tell you, that for some of you in pile 3 there is a new love coming that is destined, you will find this person when you lest expect it and once you get to know them you will find them so sweet and dear to you.

[corphneux707]

Dr. Ratio x Child! Reader

Headcanons of child reader who he accidentally isekai'd due to an accident during an experiment. Written as platonic and gender neutral!

Chapter 1: The Start

Chapter 2: Eye-catching

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

First off, he'd actually feel bad for accidentally transporting you.

Like c'mon, you're literally a kid. So that means he'll take the responsibility of taking care of you for the meantime, until he finds a way to send you back.

Your opinion of him started to get better overtime. At first, he looked scary. Especially when the first hour of you being transported, he looked scary as he berated some poor soul working in the experiment.

He starts off slow in trying to get along with you, which wasn't THAT tough considering he's the only adult you could depend on.

But he's quite considerate of you.

You'll have your own room and your own stuff. It just took quite a bit of coaxing for you to show what you like without 'shying away'

Actually, you weren't shy at all. You were scared, as Ratio deduced.

It made more sense, everything in this world was new to you.

The toughest part that he had to handle with you is with your attachment to your family. The crying, tantrums, the constant "I miss them..."

It was hard to watch you get depressed

This is where Ratio steps in. He comforts and distracts you from your problems.

This is how he gets close to you overtime by being the adult you could lean on for comfort and overall for everything a child needs.

He'd wipe your tears.

Wipe a tissue on your runny nose. (Albeit, in his dismay).

He'd let you hug him as you cried yourself to sleep. His hugs weren't comfortable, but it was secure.

He even listens to you words, even when you choke on sobs between your garbled sentences.

Feed you after assuring that the foreign looking food is tasty and good for you.

Play games with you

Answers all your questions no matter how absurd they are

His face through all of this? Usually a straight face per usual.

Every once in a while, he'd smile when he manages to give you something that you like.

He's especially happy when you start to pick up some habits of his or manage to apply his teachings to you.

There's something about it that strokes his ego and makes him proud of you.

Speaking of teachings, in the early times where you started living with him, he couldn't just leave you alone at home.

Which is why, sometimes you'd be brought along into the guild.

You'd be sat in a corner where you could be easily seen playing with some kind of silent digital toy.

At first, it was surprising for you to watch a student get hit by a chalk because they weren't paying attention. Nowadays, its kind of expected.

Afterclass, you are SWAMPED by countless students fawning over you.

Aeon help them if you smile at them and show them what you like. You're way too precious for their hearts.

The difference between how he treats his students and you is outstanding. He's usually gentle with you, but still somewhat stern.

Your toys mostly have some underlying lesson that'll help you develop your brain. Like, puzzles or mazes.

Show him what you accomplished and you get a smug face from him after he says you did a good job.

Proud dad, really.

Would brag about it.... by incorporating it into his unsults.

"If your problem still hasn't been solved, is it possible that the problem is you? Even a my child could do better."

Or something like that.

On the other hand of your accomplishments is Ratio's dismay of your antics

You're a child, yes. But he finds himself always questioning what the hell goes on in your little head.

You learn all the types of sighs this man has

Theres the annoyed sigh. Bored sigh, and many more.

The most type of sigh you get is the 'What the hell? I'm too tired for this' with the 'What the actual fuck does that mean?' look

Imagine saying present slang like gyatt, fanun tax, rizz.

Like-

You'll see a student admiring Dr. Ratio while he's seated beside you during lunch and you'll say to him "Wow, you have a lot of rizz"

Or when you're trying on matching outfits and then you ask, "Do you feel bonita?"

He's ???? but picks up on it by context clues.

Eventually he'll be incorporating it when he talks to you.

It's like your silly little codes (to you atleast) between the two of you !!

Baths with him are really nice. You get pampered alot by getting a head massage as he shampoos your head, at the same time you get to play with the bubbles and his rubber duckies!

When its bed time, he tucks you in and makes sure that you are asleep.

Usually when he works late, he'll come into your room to check on you. He'll fix your blanket so it completely covers you and pats your head softly before going to sleep in his own room :3

That's all for now. I'm in the process of making a fic and adding more stuff. I didn't even think I'd go this far but oh well.

Thank you for reading one of my first few posts!!

Chapter 1: The Start

Chapter 2: Eye-catching

[zeltqz]

I can’t stop thinking about Rin eating his girl out for a first time and cumming in his pants without even noticing. He would be so awkward and anxious ab it but so cute RAAAHHH

“I got a question,” you asked, turning to look at Rindou. 

“Shoot.” The two of you were on your bed, in the midst of cuddling, when you popped the question,

“Why haven’t you eaten me out yet?”

Rindou glanced at you. “Because I’ve never done it before.”

“You’re fucking lying.” Your mouth was open, shocked, as you sat up, looking down at the boy next to you. 

“I’m not.” Rindou had one arm behind his head and shrugged, the other fiddling with the blanket. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you’re you,” you stated dumbly yet seriously, and Rindou simply arched his brow at you. 

“What?”

You huffed. “Want me to be blunt about it?”

“Sure.”

“How do you have the reputation you have and tell me right now you’ve never given a girl head?”

He shrugged again and you groaned, wondering if you were just making a big deal over nothing. You moved to lay back down and stared at your ceiling, coming to the conclusion that no, you weren’t in fact overreacting, yes this was weird, and no amount of him acting nonchalant could change that. 

“I’m sorry but it just doesn’t make sense!” you continued. Beside you, Rindou groaned. 

“If I knew you were gonna make a big deal out of this then I wouldn’t have told you.”

“I’m not making fun of you or anything. It’s just like wow. You know?”

He scrunched his nose. “Not really.”

“How would you react if I told you that I’d never sucked a dick before?”

“But you have. Mine,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“Well yeah. But that’s not the point.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I guess it'd be kinda weird.”

You interrupted him. “See—!”

“But it’s two different things,” he finished and your mouth slammed shut. “We aren’t the same.”

“What?” Dimly, you knew where he was going with this, and had to prepare yourself for the amount of bullshit he was about to spew out of his mouth. 

“Cause like. Blowjobs are a necessity in sex. How else are we supposed to get hard? It’s different because girls get wet regardless. I don’t need to eat you out to get you wet.”

You pinched your nose bridge. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point then?”

“It’s about making us feel good.”

“You feel good during the actual sex, no?” he asked, turning to face you on his side. 

“Before you, not really. Maybe the guys I was with just sucked.”

“Unfortunate for you,” he chuckled, laughing when you threatened to suffocate him with your pillow. “Really though that’s unfortunate for you.”

“Yeah I know,” you sulked. “I’m over it now though. But I guess I understand you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like.” You also turned to face him, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m not a big fan of giving blowjobs cause they’re always rough with it and my jaw and throat hurts for days after. So I understand you kinda.”

“It’s not that I hate doing it. I just don’t see the point.”

“But whyyy ? Because it doesn’t benefit you?”

Rindou rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re making me sound like a dick.”

“Not me. Your responses are.”

“What, so you want me to eat you out? Is that where you’re going with this?” He looked you dead in the eye and you stammered. 

“W—what? Where’d you get that from?”

“You keep obsessing over the fact that I never gave head before.”

“Uh no! It’s just shocking, that’s all,” you defended, getting marginally more irritated when he still looked like he didn’t believe you. Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. “That doesn’t matter anyway. You wouldn’t be able to handle me,” you teased, a cheekily proud smile on your face as you shifted to lay back down.

“Girl, stop playing around and come here.” He put a gentle, but firm hand on your lower back and tugged you towards him. You kept laughing and brushed some hair out of his face, your hand lingering on his cheek as your eyes roamed all over his face. His eyes were a shade of violet you’d never seen before and the way he was looking at you right now has your stomach tightening in knots. 

His hand slid from your lower back, a warm heat following his palm as he skimmed over your ass, grabbing your thigh and jerked your leg over his hips. He leaned in and kissed you. It was soft and sweet and made you lose yourself in it for a moment before you came to a realisation and reluctantly pulled away. 

“Wait, you were serious?”

“Yeah?” He looked down at your chest, hand moving to your waist. “You thought I wasn’t?”

“Yeah. It just seems a bit…I dunno. I don’t want you to feel forced into doing it,” you whispered. He rolled his eyes and sat up, your back moving to lay flat as he rolled on top of you.

“Nobody can force me to do anything” he stated, and kissed you again. 

“I know but—” You barely had time to respond as his lips pressed against yours again. His hips lowered against yours and the growing erection in his shorts brushing against your inner thighs had you humming reverently into his mouth. “This feels different though,” you finished, out of breath as you finally gathered the strength to break away.

“Doesn’t have to be. It can be an experiment or something.” His head dipped down to leave a trail of ticklish kisses on your neck, body bowing up to press your chest against his. “Besides, I kinda wanna know how it feels now,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Really?” you asked, mildly embarrassed of the way your voice went high for a moment.

“Mmhm.” He sat up and grabbed your hips, lifted them up at an angle to help slide your shorts down, your panties following shortly after.

You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed as he spread your legs open, running his hands up and down your thighs as he eyed your exposed pussy. “Fuck,” he breathed, setting your hips back down on the bed.

“Rindou,” you whispered as he set himself between your legs. His eyes lingered on your beautiful pussy, how it was already wet, slick sticking to your folds. He licked his lips. He looked up at you and you smiled shyly, fighting the urge to hide your face in the pillow at the feeling of being so exposed to him. 

He gripped onto your thighs, nails digging into your skin as he dipped his head down, licking a long, experimental stripe up your pussy. Your mouth fell open, a slow, long, shaky breath escaping you. 

He gauged your reaction, licking another stripe just to watch your head fall back to the pillow, hands scrambling to touch his hair. He grinned and moved closer to your clit, throbbing and shiny from his saliva. The sound that escaped you when he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked was enough to instantly make him hard, his name a long breathy moan on your lips that had him fighting to grind futilely into your bed to relieve some pressure.

He gained some more confidence and began sucking and licking at your pussy, the taste of you sweet and addictive on his tongue. Rindou wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t this. He found himself with this desperate desire to pull as many sounds from you as possible. His tongue, flicking repeatedly against your clit, slid down to your hole, hesitating for a moment before gently pushing it through and the way you keened had him groaning into your cunt. He tongue licked in every direction inside you, fucking in and out, and making the wettest mess on your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he moved his face side to side, taking in your scent.

Rindou wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen porn before. He knows how to make a girl scream with his cock, and fingers, but never his tongue. Before he’d never seen the appeal of eating pussy, and before your conversation today, he wouldn’t have been open to the idea. But laying here now, the bottom half of his face drenched in your wetness, and your thighs squishing against the sides of his head, he realised he didn’t want to stop. 

Not even as you came, your walls pulsing tight against his tongue, his arms wrapping around both your thighs to keep you down even as your hips began to twitch. He exploded in his pants. He didn’t even realise, not as his mind was distracted with repeating your moans on loop, on keeping you down on the bed as you tried to squirm away from his tongue. He kept licking and sucking, and kissing your folds until they were puffy and overstimulated. 

He wanted to see your face, what kind of expression you were making but you refused to look at him, two hands covering the sight. He closed his eyes and sucked your clit, feeling it throb in his mouth. Everything was so addictive, the taste of you, the feeling of digging his hands into your thighs, the way your hips couldn’t stay still.

“I can’t—Rin, please,” you begged, voice worn out. “It’s too much.”

“Just a bit more,”  he mumbled, pushing your legs to your chest. He readjusted himself to lick deeper into your pussy, holding your legs by the ankles as you struggled to take anymore of this. “Fuck you taste so good.” He let go of one ankle and spread your folds apart with two fingers, flicking his tongue against your pussy. His face was buried in your sex, eyes squeezed impossibly shut as his mouth sloppily kissed and licked like a starved man.

He hummed and smiled when your entire body jolted. Your hand flew to your mouth and your back arched, gripping the sheets as you came for the second time, your entire body buzzing and you shook, toes curling as you rocked through it. 

He sat up and you watched through tired eyes as he swiped a hand over his face. You raised your arms up and he lowered himself until you wrapped your arms around his neck. He slid his hands under your thighs, lifting you up, and you squealed, wrapping your legs around his hips. 

You pulled him in for a kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. All you could taste was yourself and your face heated up when you realised. He pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and bit it, your moan stuttering off into a groan. You broke the kiss and looked down as he settled you back on the bed, your hand drawn to the hard bulge in his boxers. 

He hissed when you grabbed his cock, then froze as your hand touched something wet. You slowly peeled your hand away and brought it up to your face, your eyes going wide at the strings of cum sticking to your palm.

“Did you…?”

“What?” Rindou looked at you confused before he felt a wet patch in his pants. “Oh my fucking god.” 

“Did you seriously bust in your pants without noticing?”

“Laugh and I’ll kill you.” Your face contorted as you tried to keep from smiling, the facade breaking as you burst into a fit of giggles and laughter, holding your stomach.

“I said you couldn’t handle me, and I was right!”

He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling blood rush to his cheeks turning them to a sensitive pink hue. “Please stop laughing.”

“Oh my god.” You smiled at him, the expression so endearing for a minute he forgot his humiliation until you started giggling again, seeing his blush. 

“I swear I didn’t even feel it,” he sighed, flopping down next to you. You pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I won’t tell anyone don’t worry. It was cute.”

It definitely wasn’t his finest moment, and he still doesn’t know how or why his body reacted that way, but the fact remains that this moment will be engraved in his memory every single time he eats pussy in the foreseeable future.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, covering his face, ears heating up when you started cackling again.

“Stop laughing right now before I bring up the time you almost puked when sucking me off.” Your laughter immediately died as you stared at him, his smirk only growing. “Or the time you farted when on top. Or the time you—”

“Finish the last one and I’ll kill you,” you threatened, voice serious.

His mouth was still open, his eyebrows raising as he gauged your reaction. “When you burped in the middle of making out,” he finished and you sat up quickly, smothering him in the face with a  pillow.

[lkfarrout]

The S.S. Cool Dude breaks my fucking heart. And confuses me.

Soos owns a boat. A boat he BUILT!! Or at least, did a lot of repairs on himself. Everything about this boat screams homemade. The different metal sheets on the hull, the red part that looks like the cab from a tractor, the random headlights on the top, the chain steering wheel. Soos is a handyman, so this makes sense.

But I have to know if Stan was involved in this. I feel like he had to be? It's too much of a coincidence.

If this is something Soos did on his own, without any ideas, input, or help from Stan, how did Stan feel about it? He certainly knew about it, even if he didn't say anything. Did he ever think, wow this kid is just like me? Did he want to help? Did he stay away because it reminded him of his brother and it hurt too much? Did he listen to Soos at work excitedly talk about the progress he was making on his boat and have to pretend not to care?

If this was a project that Stan and Soos did together, first awww!!! But second, what happened? If that's the case then the vibes are definitely off in the episode... Stan didn't ask Soos to come fishing with him and the kids? Didn't ask to use the boat they built together? Soos was just, also at the lake?

Plus, in the end, the S.S. Cool Dude is completely destroyed. For seemingly spending a long time buying parts, repairing the boat, and paying for a spot to dock it, Soos really doesn't seem upset about it getting destroyed. He's just excited to get in Stan's little boat and spend time with him.

Personally, I think this is probably what happened:

Young Soos heard Stan tell a few vague stories about fixing up a boat as a teenager and dreaming about going to sea, and maybe even hunting monsters.

Soos wants to spend more time with Stan, and make him proud, so he starts working on a boat himself. Stan helps for a while, things are going good. But something happens and Stan can't take it anymore. It hurts too much. It was supposed to be him and Ford. So, Stan quits. Says he's too busy or something. Soos continues to work on it, and spends time at the lake when he can.

Soos is at the lake on opening day, like the rest of the town, and spots Stan and the kids, talking about a monster hunt and offers up his boat, maybe hoping Stan would come along. The kids agree, but Stan stays behind. Oh well, maybe if he catches a monster Stan will be impressed?

We all know how the monster hunt ends, but that's not important. Soos doesn't care about the Gobblewonker, or that his boat is destroyed. The kids are with him now, and they want to spend time with Stan. And so does Soos. So, he gets to. He gets to fish with Stan on a boat, which is all he really wanted anyway.

[pinksobg]

what did you manifest 6 months ago? 🕯️🌷

pile 1 - pile 2 - pile 3

for reflection <3 intuitive reading. missed reading! :) I hope this finds you all in good health 🙏❤️🌷

pile 1 - pile one, I'm seeing you manifesting being kind and warm. maybe you were presented to various situations, most of them conflicting ones, but one thing was present: you were able to maintain kind and even help people out. you could have manifest being able to help people, teach lessons and inspire more in this season of life.

that's a bit specific, but you could also have manifest being someone's inspiration, maybe even someone's muse, someone to look up to. older sister/brother/kid and only child vibes, haha. I won't be impressed if you like old money aesthetics or listen to indie artists. I'm getting Lana del Rey too.

if you are into academics/education, I feel you manifested on that too, especially in focus/manners or time management. still, it feels like it's still a work in progress. not the kinda "not good enough" you know? but your potential is about to expand considerably more.

🤍🌷💐🕯️❤️

__________________________

pile 2 - you definitely seem to have manifest goals. opportunities. consistency. even community too! much information haha. it seems the season your younger self would be much excited for. I think that's the best way to describe it. maybe you were able to work on things in a different way, light or perspective and it was a game changer. maybe you changed your methods and even environments. even changed some relationships (friendships/romantic ones, etc). and some of you could have moved departments or paths. and trust me, that was good. you manifested clarity to work on yourself so it could have ended in a deep cleaning. this cleaning could be in your habits or mindsets. but I still feel major physical shifts. you know this one thing in palm reading, and there is one line that is divided in two ways? it's kinda it. you started fresh, pile 2. that seems nice! you made a lot of progress the last 6 months.

also, a bit specific, but you could have manifest to be more creative. or being able to show it more to the world. you could have invested more in a hobby involving creativity and that was really nice for your mental health. if you work on the creative side, you could have been feeling more confident on this period of your life.

🤍🌷💐🕯️❤️

__________________________

pile 3 - hello, pile 3! here, we mostly see healing and acceptance. you were working on you and your journey. you manifest more peace for yourself. you wanted a breath of fresh air after a tough period of blurry view. now, I sense that you are able to let things out - feelings, situations. and you manifest to move forward. I'm very proud. also, maybe you secretly manifest protection for this period, it was a must, specially from 'evil eye' if you believe in evil eye, of course. it was a period of needed cleansing. you are now more able to move on and to be brave. your manifestations were big deal. I'm really getting this proud feeling. maybe I should try to channel a message for this pile. I'm getting "my little dove" it seems really sweet. "my little dove, no need to cry anymore, these tears of yours - let me put it in the past. take my hands, write it out, bake a cake, call it out, shout it out. you know, I love the way you are doing things now, I love the way you are. you are handling things perfectly. keep it up with hope. keep it up with Faith. you are on the right path." "trust me, chill". wow... I don't know if the "trust me, chill" was for me or for you though haha. thank you. thank you for letting me read for you!

🤍🌷💐🕯️❤️

[blessedbucky]

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕏𝕀

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 16.7k (yapper of the year right here!)

summary: your first date with Satoru and onward

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, FLUFF! ROMANCE! with a lil bit of seriousness sprinkled here and there; two new guests join the cast! you'll never guess who they are; more awkward first times because not me having reader take suguru and satoru's virginities lol; giggly and sappy sex!

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @lexlibrary, @ziggy0stardust

author note: i've completely given up and accepted that i'm gonna do this year by year until the prologue/present which is 2012. it might be a little while before the next chapter because i promised myself and my MCU girlies that i'd get out the next chapter of my MCU trio story after i posted this. just as a reminder that you're more than welcome to send me messages on here, headcanons, questions, and prompts that maybe i can get to. feed my praise kink with reblogs and comments and likes please and thank ❤️

Story Masterlist

[2009]

“Things might be a little awkward when Satoru comes over,” you warn Suguru when Nanako and Mimiko are out of earshot. The three of them are helping you unpack things. Well, Suguru is. The girls are in the second bedroom with tape, their drawings, and other little knickknacks. You warned them that Tsumiki and Megumi would be sharing it, too, and potentially decorating it with their own things, but that didn’t deter the twins whatsoever.

Suguru, folding your clothes the way you like, stops to stare at you with wide, horrified eyes. “Oh, no. Did you reject him?”

“No, of course I didn’t! I said yes!” A minute passes, your brain processes, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Wait. Did you know he was going to ask me out on a date? How long has he been planning this?”

“I started actively encouraging him to go for it since that marriage proposal, but who knows how long he’s been wanting to do it before then.” Something about how…casually Suguru speaks about this…stings a little. It shouldn’t…right? What’s causing this twisting in your chest? “Don’t make that face at me. I think we were allowed to keep this one thing a secret from you.”

Right. Right, yeah, that’s what it is, isn’t it? You feel left out. That…still doesn’t feel right, but what else would it be? Suguru knows you better than yourself, sometimes. He’s always been able to put into words what you’re feeling. “I’m shocked he didn’t do it immediately after the proposal,” you say while trying to laugh off your discomfort. “You know Naoya set the date as his birthday on purpose.”

Suguru sighs wistfully. “I really wish I mauled that asshole with a curse when I had the chance.”

“Suguru,” you try to scold but end up giggling instead. “Don’t waste a good curse on that guy. Besides, turning down the proposal through a letter was more poetic, I think.”

“More offensive, you mean,” Suguru corrects with a smug smirk. “I’m so proud of you for standing your ground like that against your parents and those arrogant assholes.”

“I’m shocked they didn’t make some backroom deal behind my back, honestly.”

“I know this probably isn’t something you want to hear, but you get your stubbornness from your father. Satoru really dealt a huge blow to his ego with that implication that they were only in it for the money. He didn’t want to prove Satoru right,” Suguru hypothesizes.

You pause in your unpacking, blinking in disbelief because…he’s right. “That makes sense, actually,” you mumble. “Wow. It’s crazy how well you know my family.”

“It goes both ways. I overheard you and your mother, y’know.”

You stiffen before trying to relax your body in feigned nonchalance. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Suguru laughs. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not upset.” You sigh in relief, immediately dropping your bravado. “You fold so easy, Squid,” he snickers. You throw a pair of pants at him, but he easily catches them. “I’m honestly not sure what I would’ve said to her if she asked me.”

The conversation in question had been when your parents stopped by at campus one more time before they went back to your hometown. Before he stalked off to talk with Satoru and Suguru, your father explained that he told the Zen’in clan you’d make your own decision and inform the clan in due time.

Privately, your mother told you that Suguru’s own parents had been over to your childhood home more and more frequently, practically begging your mother to get Suguru’s phone number from you so they could talk to him. Suguru’s mother had an accident in the field and can’t work. They’re on harder times than ever and your mother said that it would really cheer them up to hear from Suguru.

And like Suguru said, you know his parents as well as he knows yours. You saw through the bullshit but gave your mother the benefit of the doubt—even though she’s even bigger than your father on the belief that children should be responsible for taking care of their parents, no matter what.

So, they’re in trouble and need Suguru to bail them out, you translated when she was done with the sob story. You had absolutely zero sympathy for them. If he wants to talk to them, he knows how. You’d gotten petty with her, then. I’m not getting involved and you shouldn’t want to, either. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it? We don’t want to poke our noses in the business of other families.

“That’s stupid, isn’t it?” Suguru asks with a bitter smile. “Why would I say anything other than no? Last year, they were one of the first ones that I thought about…seeing…after we found Nanako and Mimiko…”

Seeing, he says, but he means killing, doesn’t he? You can’t say you blame him. If you’d had better control over your technique when you were younger, you’re not sure what you would’ve coerced spirits into doing to his parents. “I don’t think that’s silly,” you tell him honestly after thinking about it for a minute or two. “If Satoru didn’t step in, I was about to let my parents walk all over me. And…I don’t know…it’s complicated.” You sigh in aggravation over not being able to find the right feeling. “Maybe it’s just me, but you always want to try and see the best in people, especially your parents.”

“It might be just you. Maybe. I don’t think there’s much good to be seen in them. But I…they always make me feel small. Just your mother mentioning them made me feel that way. Your father wasn’t helping, either.”

Ah. That reminds you of something you forgot to ask. “What did he want with you?”

“I’m not sure it was me he even wanted. He probably wanted to lecture Satoru, but after he gave Satoru his card back, Satoru wouldn’t let him get a word in. I never thought I would see the day that the Gojo Satoru would have enough of a moral high ground to give someone else a lecture, but here we are.”

“No wonder he was so pissy when he came to collect mother…”

“Satoru’s protective, isn’t he?” Suguru ducks his head, smiling softly as he says that. It’s tinged with something, though.

“Why are you upset, Suguru?” It’s bitterness. Maybe sadness. His eyes widen, so you know you’re right. “Is it because you didn’t say something? You know you don’t have to feel guilty about that,” you rush to assure him. “You know the rule. Satoru doesn’t. Just because we’re technically adults now doesn’t mean our parents can’t still make our lives difficult. Mine, anyway. My father’s probably going to give me an earful when his pride has recovered a little.”

“It’s…a little bit of that,” Suguru says after a beat. It feels like a lie, though. His smile is still strained and it’s not reaching his eyes. “I wish I could protect you like Satoru can.”

“You do,” you insist.

“That’s why I told him to finally confess.” Suguru completely ignores your comment. “Satoru is as good for you as you are for him. He understands you in a way that I’ll never be able to.” You start shaking your head which makes him barrel on. “It’s the difference between sympathy and empathy. I’ll always be sympathetic for you, I can know your moods and the things you love and hate, but only Satoru can truly empathize with you.” He looks at you, expression softening, and rushes over to take you in his arms. “Squid, don’t look so devastated.”

You lift your arms up between your bodies, trying to wipe away the tears that are welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want you to feel left out.”

“You’re so silly. I’ve never felt like that before, I’m not going to start now.” You press your forehead against his chest, sniffling and trying to calm down before you really get going. “All I’m trying to say is that I want my two most favorite people to be happy and taken care of and I think the best person to do that for them is each other.”

“When you say that it makes it sound like you’re leaving us alone,” you admit.

“The way I feel about you two isn’t going to change, trust me.” He keeps rubbing your back soothingly. “This isn’t the right time, but this is really reassuring for me, y’know.” You tilt your head up, digging your chin against his chest, blinking up at him with watery eyes. He grins shyly. “I know I’m never going to be left behind.”

“Never,” you promise. “You’re our favorite person, too.”

Suguru cups your cheek, sighing softly. “You’re too sweet for someone like me, Squid.”

You miss his touch when he goes.

Date Day arrives.

You still haven’t decided on what the fuck you’re going to wear.

Shoko, who is way too invested in your love life, comes to your rescue, bright and early. The visit is disguised as helping you finish unpacking and settling into your new apartment, but it’s bullshit. She knows that you know it’s bullshit. First of all, she knows it’s Date Day. Secondly, the moment you shut the door behind her, she manhandles you back to the bedroom to help with your hair.

“There’s no need to do all this,” you mumble petulantly while watching both your reflections in the mirror she has you seated in front of. The previous tenant left one of those floor length mirrors on the back of the door. You’re cross-legged on the tatami mat with her on her knees behind you. “It’s just Satoru.”

“Oh yeah?” Shoko pointedly moves her gaze to the reflection of your bed and the clothes strewn across it. “If that’s the case, why are you so worried about your outfit?”

You harrumph and turn your head away, not wanting to admit she’s right. Only half-right, though! Because, in your head, there’s this pendulum that continually swings between this is just like any other normal day with Satoru and this is absolutely not a normal day with Satoru because he likes me, and this is a date. Giddiness and nervousness had you tossing and turning the whole night through. You’re desperately trying not to overthink everything and you’re proud to say that it’s mostly working.

“I don’t even know why you’re so excited about this,” you say as a deflection.

Shoko puts her hands on your temples, forcing your head back to position, before continuing with your hair. “I can’t be happy for my best friend?” You drop your eyes down to your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, but it doesn’t stop the happy flutter in your tummy at being acknowledged as her best friend. It always does that when Shoko says best friend. You’d think you’d be over the novelty by now. “And I need to keep rubbing it in your face that I was right. The only thing as big as his ego is the crush he’s had on you. It’s been four years of pining, Duck.”

“It hasn’t been that long!” After a second of thinking, you doubt yourself. Clearly, you haven’t noticed the signs and were totally blindsided by his confession. Hesitantly, you ask, “…has it really?”

She laughs. “Yes, really. Halfway through second year, I started a betting pool on who’d confess first. Even Sensei put money down on it, but he made me swear to never tell anyone else.”

“You’re literally telling someone right now—” your brain finally catches up on what she just said, and you start sputtering. “Stop using my love life to make money!”

“Consider it financial compensation for all the ridiculous romantic tension.”

Where’s mine for the tension between you and Utahime, you think but refuse to speak aloud. The tension between them was so horribly awkward at graduation. Even Satoru didn’t pester Utahime like he usually does…but he might’ve been too nervous to do that with the planned confession and all. Anyway, Shoko remains resolute in her resolve to keep Utahime distant—not for a lack of trying on Utahime’s part to bridge the divide.   

There’s some hope yet, though. Utahime brought gifts for you and Shoko. Yours was a set of new sketching pencils. Shoko’s was a new lighter. Shoko didn’t outright reject it. Instead, she left it behind in a classroom. You’d found Utahime with it, tears in her eyes and looking so miserable, so you took matters into your own hands. You pointedly left it by her pack of cigarettes when she was moving into her new apartment.

It’s the only lighter that Shoko uses now.

“Hair’s done,” Shoko announces. You awe over her work, careful not to touch it for fear of messing it up. She shoots you a smug smirk in the mirror. “I’m gonna go two-for-two and find you an outfit.”

Find you an outfit she does.

You swing your arms from side-to-side, watching as the pleats of your black pinafore dress swish with the movement. You’re wearing a simple long-sleeved white shirt under it. There’s even a cute little bow at the waist. It’s been sitting in the back of your closet ever since you got it back during your second year. You’d bought it during a shopping spree with Utahime in Kyoto. Your brain hasn’t let you wear it because you haven’t had any occasions it deems special enough.

Today is definitely a special enough occasion.

Shoko probably planned this, but she keeps you distracted in the chunk of time between when you’re done getting ready and when you’re buzzing Satoru in the building. She settles in with the new laptop that her parents bought her as a graduation gift, and you know she’s going to be spending the night. She says as much when you announce Satoru’s on his way. She needs to know how the date goes.

In the genkan, where Shoko can’t see you, you have to take deep breaths before opening the door for Satoru. And put a hand over your heart, like that’ll make it slow down. It’s just Satoru, it’s just Satoru, it’s just Satoru, you chant to yourself over and over inside your head.

It’s just Satoru and…he looks very handsome.

Oh, no.

This is like your second year all over again when your body decided it was time for a sexual awakening.

It’s not like you haven’t been aware that Satoru is attractive. But it always felt…forbidden, somehow, to think of him like that because he was your best friend. It’s easier now. You’re allowed to look because it’s you that’s doing it and Satoru likes it. He likes you. You can openly let your gaze roam over him in his denim jacket with the plain white shirt underneath, dropping down to his jeans and nice shoes.

And you think he likes when you look at him the way you are because he’s grinning when your eyes finally move back up to his face. “Like what you see?” Satoru asks with a waggle of his brows.

Knowing it’ll fluster him, you bluntly answer with, “Yeah.” It’s pleasing to see how red his cheeks get. As you’re slipping on your shoes, you call out to Shoko. “I’ll text you on my way back about what you want for dinner!”

“Okay!” Shoko calls back. “See you later!”

“What’s Shoko doing here?” Satoru asks after you close the door behind you, having recovered from your flustering him.

“If you asked her, she’d probably say something like we did girl things. If you ask me, she made me into her own personal little doll.” You pause to spread your arms out and do a little twirl. “How do I look?”

When you stop, he’s flushed but grinning. “Like the most beautiful little doll in the world. I can’t believe you got all dressed up just for me.”

The compliment has the back of your neck prickling with heat. “Jeez, you don’t have to lay it on so thick. I’m already here on the date with you.”

“It’s not laying it on thick,” he denies with that cute little scrunch of his nose. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Now, I’m allowed to tell you without it being weird. Get used to it.” He leans forward a little, getting all up in your space, poking at your cheek. “And if we’re on a date, what’s with that homewrecker in there getting to have dinner with you? What if I planned a whole day full of date stuff, huh?”

“I am not doing a whole day of public things.”

“Maybe I planned to cook you a four-course meal for dinner tonight.”

“Cooking for me implies you’ve completely unpacked. Last I checked, you were too busy putting your figurines in their designated places and eating takeout. Has that changed?” He crosses his arms over his chest, that scrunch in his nose only getting bigger. “That’s what I thought.”

“I regret this.”

“Watch it, Gojo. You’re being scored right now and it’s getting reported to Shoko when I get home.”

“Eh? Is that why she’s really at your place?” Satoru rolls his eyes. “Why can’t she worry about her love life?”

“Shoko wants to pretend there is no love life.” You sigh, your worry for Shoko blowing all the wind out of your sails. “I just really wish one of them would tell me what happened between them. In more detail, I mean. I know Shoko got too drunk and confessed and then Utahime rejected her, but…Shoko doesn’t seem like the one to hold a grudge about that.”

Satoru hums before oh-so-casually dropping, “Probably has something to do with Utahime not being out to her family.”

You’re so stunned by this piece of information coming from Satoru that you almost slam into a light post. It’s only because of him grabbing your upper arm and pulling you out of the way that you don’t. “What? Huh? How—” he blinks owlishly down at you, like he’s confused that you’re confused! “How do you know that? I don’t even know that!”

“I’ve known Utahime since we were kids. Have I not told you that?”

“What the hell? No!”

“Oh. Uh, well, surprise! She was always in my ear about how I needed to take my etiquette lessons seriously or else I’d be a shitty clan leader. Man, she could get downright nasty with her critique.” He’s back to pouting when he realizes, “Aw, c’mon, have you thought I’ve been a dick to her this whole time for literally no reason at all other than she’s weak? How lowly do you think of me, Sketch?”

“You tormented poor Kiyotaka mercilessly last year.”

“It was some very light bullying to get him the hell out of sorcery. That guy had one foot in the grave and—hey! You’re on first name basis with that guy already? What’s up with that?”

“Focus, Satoru, please.”

“Ugh. Fine. Whatever. Yeah, I’ve known her a long time. Her clan is super useful because of their technique, so they’re buddy-buddy with the big clans. Just like all the old clans, they’re traditional as hell, and she’s an only child. Eh, I think I heard a rumor that there’s an engagement in the works between her and a Kamo. Who knows the hell she’d raise if she threw that all away to live in sweet lesbian bliss with Shoko?”

Your brows furrow. “Shoko is actively making plans to cheat her way through medical school. Being the mistress might make her a little sore, but…she doesn’t seem like the type to have that be a dealbreaker. She really loves Utahime.”

“Yeah, it’s probably that Utahime is too noble to let Shoko be the mistress. She’s a goody-two-shoes like that.”

“Goody—” you scowl at him. “Don’t make fun of her for that!” The dynamic between Utahime and Satoru makes a lot more sense now. You understand why she always turns down your offers to make Satoru back down. She gives back as good as she gets, but this isn’t a time for him to make fun of her. “That is noble and kind of her!” You think of a way to make it more relatable to him, to help him really understand her plight. “That would be like you making Suguru be your dirty little secret while you’re married to me. Do you think Suguru deserves that?”

Satoru puts his hands over his heart, batting his lashes, gasping dramatically. “Talking about marriage already? I’m swooning, Miss Sketch!” You stare at him, deadpan, mentally begging him to take this a little more seriously. “What? That’s the only realistic part of that scenario! There’s no way that I’d keep you or Suguru a secret. It sucks that I couldn’t legally marry you both at the same time, but I’d definitely have a ring on both your fingers.”

“My hypothetical might’ve been flawed,” you mutter to yourself. “Imagine being engaged to Utahime, then.” You ignore his very loud ew! “You’re both an only child. The continuation of your clan’s bloodline rests on your shoulders. Personally, I don’t think she should care. Traditionalists love to preach about the survival of the fittest except when it’s things like this. Bloodlines come, bloodlines go, and the jujutsu world keeps spinning.”

“Exactly!” Satoru agrees. “But, my darling Sketch, there’s one more flaw in your logic—” he taps your nose playfully, “—both me and Utahime have cousins to carry on the bloodline. So, there’s honestly nothing holding her back. She’s making her life and Shoko’s difficult for no reason.”

“It’s not for no reason,” you argue. “Ignoring the fact that change is hard for everyone, Utahime getting cut off from her family is a lot different than you getting cut off from yours. You’re a Special Grade. You can easily make enough money to support yourself without your clan’s money. It’s different for her. And…other than their traditional ways, she does love her family. It’s hard to leave that all behind.”

Satoru sighs loudly. “Life is just easy mode when you’re Gojo Satoru, huh?”

“I have to agree. Other than having to fit your massive ego through doors, it’s easy going for you, isn’t it?”

“Mean!”

Satoru refuses to tell you what he has planned for your date. You know he’s proud of himself for what he’s picked out, so you’ll indulge him, and don’t push to ruin the surprise.

The train is packed.

He’d asked ahead of time if you’d be okay to use public transportation. He’s braver over text, so he admitted he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, no warping if he can help it. Even Shoko, who was looking at your phone over your shoulder, gave an aww, that’s cute. Then, she’d ruined it with, he’s such a dork.

You don’t want to admit defeat and say you overestimated your ability to deal with crowds today. It’s the weekend before school starts, so you should’ve expected that families and teenagers would be out to enjoy their last moments of freedom. There’s no room to sit, so you’re left to stand alongside everyone else, sharing one of the dangling handles with Satoru because everyone else has one.

At the third bump of someone against your body, you try to reason with yourself that it’s only six stops until yours. Satoru gave you that much of a hint. You can handle it. You refuse to ruin this date because you’re too much of a baby to deal with a crowded train.

As the train nears the first stop of six, your body locks up, preparing for the rush of people who are going to touch you. You’re trying to not visibly grimace in front of Satoru. Trying not to be too obvious with your discomfort because you know he’ll ask if you want to go home. You don’t want to be babied. You want so badly to have a good day. To have your mind and body cooperate with you for once.

“Still up for me touching you?”

“Huh?” You blink out of your mental spiral and tilt your head up toward Satoru. He repeats the question. “Oh, yes, of course. As long as it’s you.”

“I’m gonna test something out.”

You tilt your head to the side. “What?”

Satoru shushes you. “It’s another surprise,” he whispers. Then, his big hand is slipping around and cupping the back of your head. He pulls you forward until your forehead bumps against his solid chest. His other arm moves around your shoulders. The unintentional…or maybe it’s intentional, actually. Anyway, because his arm is there, it’s kind of a barrier between you and the people who bump against you from the back.

Immediately, the tension bleeds from your body. This closeness to him, this being surrounded so wholly by his presence, is something to ground you. You can catch a hint of his body wash and bury your nose further against his chest, chasing the sweet smell. It’s subtle, like your own, because you both hate overwhelming smells. Even his deodorant isn’t powerful. No cologne or body spray—he learned his lesson after that buying that one American body spray when it was released in Japan.

You wrap your arms around his waist, sighing happily. You think that’s it, that he’s using his body to block people, but when the train comes to a stop, something happens.

There’s a little surge in his cursed energy before its shifting. It bleeds out, blanketing you. What happens next is hard for you to describe. It’s weird. The people around you both knock into you, but they also don’t. Your brain registers it, technically, but…it reminds you of magnets, almost. That subtle resistance of trying to push two of the same polarity together that only grows the closer you get the two magnets with each other.

It takes you a stupidly long amount of time, until the next stop, to realize that this is Infinity.

“I finally figured out how to do this,” Satoru murmurs in your ear when the noise of everyone filing in and out dies down. “It was by studying you, actually. It’s familiar, right? Does it feel like a blanket?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly, still in awe.

“Good. Now, if we’re ever out and you’re sick of all the bullshit, I can share this with you.”

And Satoru sounds so proud of himself for learning this. For you. There’s no other reason, tactically, that he would need to extend Infinity to someone else. What did he say last year? He’s been looking at you with his Six Eyes for four…no. It’s been five years now. He’s always been watching you, studying your idiosyncrasies, making note of your pleasures and aversions, and going even deeper to learn the flow of your cursed energy itself.

This twisting of your heart is almost unbearable, but you don’t want to be anywhere else right now other than in his arms. Such an odd feeling that has your body at odds. You breathe in, exhaling shakily. There’s a little wobble in your knees that makes you lean further against him…or maybe that’s just an excuse. You can’t hear his heart with the noise of the train on the tracks, but you feel the rapid thump of it against your cheek. Just as fast as yours.

Now, the counting down of the stops until yours makes you sadder rather than relieved. You don’t want to leave his embrace and not just because of Infinity. Ever since everyone’s gotten their own apartments, spending the night in the same bed has slowly dwindled down. You can’t even remember the last time that you and Satoru were together. You miss it. You want to go home now, only because you want to curl up with him in bed.

But that wouldn’t be very much fun for a date…

“Sorry,” you mumble embarrassedly when you’ve both finally gotten off at your stop. “I should be better at this by now.” You chew your bottom lip nervously. “I know it’s probably awkward for you, being with a grown adult that can’t handle public transportation.” Why are you suddenly so anxious right now?

Satoru squints at you. “When have I ever cared about how you act in public?”

“Um…” You cringe. “Never.”

“Right. And it hasn’t changed, by the way. So, did I do something to give you the wrong impression?”

“No! But I can’t remind you of how sorry I am?”

“Nope, because I don’t want your damn apology when there’s nothing to be sorry about. Jeez, you act like you’re making some big spectacle when all you’re doing is getting nervous.” In the middle of the station, like it’s no big deal, he hunches over to bump his forehead against yours hard enough that it leaves you yelping and clutching at that place. “What’d I say to you last year, huh? Every single part, Sketch.”

I want all the parts of you, even the ugliest ones.

Oh.

As Satoru snatches one of your hands to yank you into motion, leading you toward the exit of the station, the truth barrels into you as fast and hard as the train you’re leaving behind. It took five long years for you to finally catch up with reality, but you understand now. You get it. These declarations of his, all those private and precious moments with him, they’ve always made you feel a certain type of way. Sometimes, it feels painful with how your heart twists up inside your chest. An emotion that you’ve never been able to name always builds up inside you, leaving you jittery and restless because you have no idea what to do with all that pressure.

Finally, you can put a name to it.

And that’s what your massively stupid fucking heart decides to do. Out loud. You’re both stepping out under the sun when your mouth moves before literally any other part of your body, especially your brain, can catch up with it.

“I love you.”

You jerk your hand away from his slackening grip, slapping your hands over your mouth as if that’s going to turn back time and let you swallow back up that very heavy thing you just threw out there. Satoru heard. Oh, you wish he didn’t, but he definitely heard over all the noise because he’s slowly turning his head to look over his shoulder at you. Briefly, in his profile, you see his wide blue eyes.

Actually, he’s so shocked that his Infinity isn’t up because someone physically bumps into him and sends his sunglasses clattering on the ground because they were slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry!” It may be a cold day, but you’re burning from embarrassment. Balking under his heavy gaze, you rush to pick up his sunglasses and put them back on his face for him. But then you realize that’s a very intimate thing to do to another person, no matter how many times you’ve done it before, and almost drop them again. “Forget I said that!” You shake your hands, rocking from side to side because of all your buzzing anxiousness. “We…are we late for the date? We should hurry! Right?!”

Satoru’s mouth opens, closes, and the process repeats two more times before he squeaks, “Yeah!” He hesitates. Does the open-close mouth thing again and you’re terrified that you fucked everything up. Genuinely petrified. Then, so loudly that people start to stare, he announces, “Okay! Yeah! Nothing wrong here! Let’s go!”

Through Satoru’s nervous chattering, as he’s dragging you away, you hear an elderly woman sigh fondly and coo, “Ah, young love.”

“A cat café?”

Satoru cringes. “Do you hate it?”

“Are we here for me…or for you?”

He sputters, cheeks turning red. “I’ll have you know that I’m a dog person!”

“Yeah, but it fits your—” you gesture vaguely at him, “—vibe.”

He squints down at you. “I feel like I should be offended.”

Both of you resolutely not talking about the thing that happened, you now stand outside a new cat café—as announced by their little announcement board placed on the sidewalk. You remember when news spread of the first one opening in Osaka back in 2004, you think it was. The idea of it absolutely delighted you…and almost every other teenage girl, you suspect. Suguru hadn’t gotten the appeal of it, but that’s because his parents didn’t care if he interacted with the stray cats like your mother did.

With the hustle and bustle of high school, though, you kind of forgot the existed until now. You’ve never been to one. In an instant, your excitement for them is renewed and you grab Satoru’s hand, excitedly tugging him inside. You listen dutifully to the employee that greets you both for the appointment Satoru scheduled.

You never knew the logistics until now. For the most part, the cats are all free to pet and interact with. Don’t pressure the cats if they don’t want attention. There are signs scattered around detailing cat behaviors. The café is also an internet one, so there are usually salarymen and college students on their laptops working alongside the cats, but don’t be shocked if some of them decide to barge in on your keyboard. There are treats, both human and cat, available for purchase. The cats also have toys scattered around that you can use to play with them.

Just before you’re set free, you’re shown a wall with pictures of all the cats. “All of them are up for adoption,” the employee chirps. “Ah, but before you go in…well, we were wondering if we could use you as test subjects in exchange for unlimited access to the bakery and drinks.”

You’re not able to look at all the pictures, glancing over at the woman with a tilt of your head, curious about what kind of experiment a cat café can possibly have. “Test subjects?”

“A pair of cats were recently brought to us from the shelter. We’ve been trying to get them adjusted to human interaction—”

Satoru worriedly asks, “Are they dangerous?” You’ve got to hide your laugh as a cough, covering your mouth. There’s no way that he’s seriously asking that, right? Has Satoru forgotten that you’re both sorcerers? It’s as cute as it is perplexing.

“We think that one of them may have been abused, so he’s…cautious of humans. That’s only when he’s by himself, though! If his partner is with him then he’s usually okay! As of right now, they’re a package deal, but that makes adoption harder. We’ve been letting them adjust to human contact with a glass wall separating them from our guests. Since it’ll be only you two for the first half of the day, we thought this might be the perfect opportunity to introduce them to human contact again. This way, they won’t be immediately overwhelmed.”

“Half the day?” Satoru is pointedly not looking at you when you snap your head in his direction. Your eye twitches, but you bite your tongue because you’re both in public. But, oh, the lecture you’re going to give him later will be of epic proportions. Turning back to the employee, you force a smile while she’s blinking in confusion. “I’d love to meet them.”

After signing a waiver and another employee taking your drink orders, you’re finally allowed out into the larger area. There are a few cats that are there to immediately greet you, some weaving through your legs. The space is large but designed in a way to provide privacy if you need it. The cats themselves have so many cat trees and ledges to lounge on. There are even baskets hanging from the ceiling. There’s an area separated from guests for the cats to eat, drink, and sleep in that they access by way of pet doors.

As the employee is introducing you to some of the cats at your feet, Satoru is munching on a taiyaki. He dutifully holds yours when you pass it to him so you can bend down and start petting the cats with the employee. You’re listening intently as she’s introducing all the cats.

“Oi!”

Something thumps down on the floor next to you, grabbing your attention before you can whip your head around to check on Satoru. The cat that’s now next to you can best be described as a cotton ball. It’s so fluffy. The bright, blue eyes that it stares at you with are a little…unnerving. But you’re not really sure why you feel that way. Maybe it’s because you didn’t realize cats could have such an intense eye color?

“Toru!” The employee gasps.

At the same time, Satoru is snarling at the cat, “You little thief!”

“Huh,” you mumble to yourself.

As the employee is babbling apologies to Satoru, you pluck your sunglasses off the top of your head and hold them in the air. It isn’t near the cat, of course, because you don’t want to upset him by getting grabby. You angle them, though, so you can see what the cat would look like with them on. They’re not like Satoru’s at all, but they’re dark like his.

The cat isn’t even eating the taiyaki. He ignores the chastising employee and Satoru, drops the taiyaki, and approaches you to flop down in front of you and show his belly. Even his meows are demanding. And if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was staring Satoru dead in the eye with glee and defiance.

Oh, so that’s why you’re unnerved.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” you whisper in awe. Louder, to interrupt the employee and Satoru, you ask, “What characters do you use for his name?”

“To steal,” she explains with a sigh of resignation. “This is one half of the troubled pair.” Yes, you suspected as much. “It’s not that he doesn’t play well with other pets! He just…”

“Annoys them?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess,” you answer deadpan while trying extremely hard not to look at Satoru.

“And, well…even his previous owner, a very kind elderly woman, admitted that she spoiled him too much when she was forced to turn him over to the shelter. She was in poor health and her daughter wouldn’t let her keep him. He loves treats. He steals them from the other cats. The behavior is improving, though! He shares…only with his friend…but it’s progress.”

You reach out to take his little paw between your fingers. All the stray cats in the village taught you that a cat showing their belly is almost always a trap. “Where’s the other—”

There’s a chirp before another cat is rubbing up against your thigh. “Right…there?”

The employee is baffled that her supposedly human-averse cat is greeting you willingly. You are baffled because…okay, this is just ridiculous! If there’s a god out there, they decided to give you the most blatantly obvious signs to adopt a pet today. This cat is as fluffy as his counterpart, but with black fur instead of white except for one spot. It has a patch of gray fur that falls over his eye like a scar…or a bang.

Before you can stop yourself, you reach down to rub one of his ears that, worryingly, has a hole in it. His hackles briefly raise, but he quickly leans into the touch. “You think he was abused?”

“The shelter said it could’ve happened in a fight with another cat,” the employee says while eyeing the cat with the same skepticism you do. “Fights with other animals usually end up with split ears or bits taken off the edge. Nothing like this.” The holes are jagged, yes, but only as if someone tried cutting a circle in too flexible material. Way too precise to be the result of another animal.

“Poor thing,” you coo while scratching him under his chin. He purrs. His counterpart, Toru, meows in offense before leaping right on the black cat’s belly. You’re quick to pull your hand away when they start tussling. “Are they, uh, brothers?”

“No. It’s shocking, considering they’re the same rare breed,” the employee answers with a chuckle. “They’re both Norwegian Forests! Toru came from the elderly woman and had been at the shelter before Gato got there—”

“Gato?” Both you and Satoru repeat at the same time with the same incredulity.

“Oh! Yes, that’s the other cat.” She points to the black cat, not knowing that that’s not what you and Satoru are really questioning here. “Gato means cat in Spanish and the person that saved him was a Brazilian exchange student. It’s a bit unoriginal, but the shelter thought it would be nice to honor the person that saved him.”

“Portuguese,” you correct.

She tilts her head. “Eh?”

“Brazil’s official language is Portuguese.”

Behind you, Satoru asks, “How do you know that?”

“I had a language learning phase in middle school. There’s a large Brazilian community in Japan.”

The employee gasps. “Oh, no! Did we give him the wrong name?”

You try to recall the basic words you’d learned. Portuguese and Spanish have a big overlap with each other. “No, I think Gato is still right.” She sighs in relief. “Um, if you don’t mind me saying…he doesn’t seem very…uh…human averse,” you remark as Gato, having escaped Toru’s shenanigans, slowly approaches you again for pets.

“Maybe all the work we’ve done is paying off,” the employee muses as she slowly reaches down to join you in stroking Gato’s fur. Two people at once must be pushing it because he hisses and swats at her hand before throwing himself right in your lap. He even tries climbing up your shirt, claws digging into the fabric. “Or not,” she adds while cradling her hand to her chest.

“How old are they?” They look full-grown but Gato’s shirt clinging behavior strikes you as kitten-like.

“We know for sure that Toru is a year old. Gato is a little harder to pinpoint down, but the shelter suspects he’s around the same age.”

“Is that…fully grown?”

“Hmm, well, that’s a little more subjective with cats. With smaller breeds, yes. A bigger breed like the American Maine Coon isn’t fully grown until they’re two. They’ve sexually matured, though, but just barely.” She giggles. “If you wanted the human age equivalent, they’re about fifteen.”

This poor employee must be so confused when you can’t take it anymore and burst out into laughter.

Satoru, though, understands. “Sketch, no,” he growls.

But you’ve already made your decision.

Shoko hasn’t stopped laughing since you returned home with Satoru and cat supplies in hand. You’re only a little embarrassed, but Satoru was the one to pay for the adoption fees, so he clearly wasn’t that upset with how the first half of your date day turned out.

The café was kind enough to keep the cats housed for another few days while you readied your apartment for them. You also have to notify your landlord so the pet fee can be added to your rent, but the office is closed on the weekend, so you’ve got to wait until Monday. You think the café will wait as long as possible because they were really worried that Toru and Gato wouldn’t ever be adopted. It’s hard to have someone adopt two cats at once, let alone one as hostile as Gato.

Satoru and you are back in your bedroom, cleaning up the explosion of open bags and packages from the cat tower and toys that you’ve spread around to greet the cats when you bring them home.

You’re shoving blankets inside the carriers to make them more comfortable when Satoru quietly asks, “Did you mean it?” It’s been silent for a few minutes so you’re not sure what he means. You turn to look at him, but his head is ducked down, watching his fingers that fiddle with the hem of his pants. “What you said when we got off the train,” he clarifies.

In all the excitement with the cats, you totally forgot how you almost blew the date before it even started.

You debate on whether to lie or not. You don’t want to do that to Satoru, no matter how soul-crushingly embarrassing this might be. It’s fine. He likes you. He’s said as much. As long as you clearly state that you don’t expect him to feel that way for you right now or ever, for that matter. Relationships, especially young ones, don’t always work out. Satoru would never be cruel to you just because he doesn’t feel the same way.

“Do you want me to? I don’t want to pressure you.”

Satoru is silent before quietly admitting, “I want to know if you feel the same way I feel about you.”

Your eyes slowly widen. “You…” It feels like the breath has been punched out of your lungs. “You…me…” The power of your brain must’ve gone to kick your heart into overdrive because you can’t even form coherent sentences now.

You’re not the only nervous one. Satoru’s normally cold hands aren’t a balm for your scalding hot cheeks today. No, his hands are definitely sweaty when he cups your cheeks. His face is red, too, but he’s brave. So brave. Staring at you with those sparkling blue eyes, he bluntly confesses, “I’m in love with you.”

The breath catches in your throat. “Really?”

He laughs shakily, knocking his forehead against yours. “I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen years old.”

“I’m in love with you, too.” And you hold both his cheeks in your sweaty hands. “I don’t know how long, but I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”

“It’s okay. I’m only in this for your banging body, anyway. It’s fine if you’re a space cadet.” You snort before breaking out in a fit of giggles. “There,” he breathes out. “That’s the ticket. You’re so pretty, Sketch. Can I kiss you now?”

“After you just called me stupid?” You’re the one to knock your forehead against his. “Yes. You can kiss me.”

Satoru does, even though the first part of it is just the both of you grinning against each other’s mouth. You’re in an awkward position, so you get up on your knees, turning your body toward him before you kiss him again. You didn’t know how much you missed this. His soft lips and sweet taste. He has no confidence in this and it’s endearing. It makes you feel special, that you get to learn with him.

“What was my date rating?” Satoru asks between kisses.

“You did pretty good,” you answer coyly.

“Good enough to be my girlfriend?”

“Okay, that was pretty smooth,” you concede with a laugh. “Yes, Satoru, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Girls, it’s time to go.”

Mimiko, with Toru cradled in her arms, appears in the kitchen doorway. “Just a little longer, Mister Geto? Please?”

After drying his hands off completely, Suguru settles them on his hips. It’s such a mother-like pose that you have to bite your lip to keep back the laughter bubbling up in your chest. “Everyone has school tomorrow, Mimiko. You’ve been with Miss Squid all weekend long. We should let her have some time alone.”

Nanako comes barreling into the kitchen, wildly throwing around her arm while insisting, “It’s not time! We always go home at six!” She points at her little pink plastic watch to emphasize the point, though she’s moving too fast for anyone to see.

Suguru sighs in irritation, throwing you a nasty look that has you smiling beatifically in response. You’re not apologizing for adopting two cats desperately in need of a home. Suguru and Satoru are simply biased because they think the cats are out to get them. Never mind that Satoru was there when the employee explained that Gato was abused so that’s why he has a hard time warming up to people.

It’s been a month now. There was a little delay where Gato had to warm up to the girls, but now that he has, it’s only a matter of time before the novelty of them will wear off.

“We’re leaving earlier because we’re walking Tsumiki and Megumi home,” Suguru explains patiently.

“But—”

“Girls,” you interrupt while mirroring Suguru’s hands on the hips. “Do you remember how you needed lots of alone time when you started living with Suguru?” Their little faces grow solemn, but you feel like this is an important enough lesson to instill in them. You’ve been noticing Gato hiding away more frequently as the weekend has stretched on. “Gato needs that alone time, too, okay?”

“Yes, Miss Squid,” they both answer. Thankfully, they have a determination in their eyes rather than lingering sadness. “Will you tell Gato we’re sorry if we made him made him scared?” Mimiko goes on to ask.

You smile. “Yes, I will.”

As the twins are collecting all their things, Tsumiki slips into the kitchen with you, shyly asking if she can help you as you make everyone a bento for tomorrow. It might take a little longer, but you happily accept the help. You’ve learned that she really loves to cook, and you want to foster that. You even bought some cookie cutters to cut vegetables into cute shapes. It’s cute to watch her little brows furrow in concentration and hear her grunt as she tries to force the cutter through vegetables and fruits.

“What happened to Nanako and Mimiko?”

“Hmm?”

“You said they needed lots of alone time. Was it because they were sad?”

“Ah. Well, it’s not really my place to say,” you explain gently. “You’d have to ask them.”

She pauses, shifts uncomfortably, before she quietly confesses, “I’m afraid to.”

“Why?”

“I know they don’t like me.”

You step away from the table enough to crouch down to Tsumiki’s level. She turns her body toward you, but keeps her head ducked down, as if she’s in trouble. “Have they said or done something to make you feel like they don’t like you?” It’s important that you know what they did so you can talk to their therapist about it. Their therapist used to be a sorcerer, so she’s been able to help them with their distrust of non-sorcerers more effectively than a regular therapist, but they’re not perfect.

“No!” Her head flies up, eyes wide, and she waves her hands nervously. “I mean…yes? No? I…” She struggles to explain herself. You wait patiently. “They…um…they’re better friends with Megumi. They don’t have things to talk about with me like him.” She wrings her hands in her dress. “It’s okay! It’s always like that. I know I’m really boring and plain. Everyone’s always liked him better. I know he’s really special. I’m…I’m really happy he has people now who are like him!”

Happy, you mentally repeat while watching her with a forced smile on her face and tears in her eyes. “Do you feel lonely, Tsumiki?” She shakes her head furiously. You reach out to take her hand in yours, squeezing as a show of comfort. “It’s okay to feel that way.”

“I have Megumi,” she argues with a trembling voice.

“I know you do. You can have all the people in the world around you and still feel lonely. You feeling lonely doesn’t mean you don’t love him any less.” You drop to the floor completely, crossing your legs. You take her other hand. “Do you want to know a secret?” You don’t wait for her to answer. “I’ve felt the same way as you do, all through my life. I still do, sometimes.”

“But you’re not like me at all!” Tsumiki protests. “You’re pretty and cool and so, so nice!”

“I am.” It’s taking a lot for you to not start crying yourself. Jeez, is this what it’s like for Suguru and Satoru being on the other side of your self-loathing? “Jiheishō—have you heard of it?” She shakes her head. You didn’t think so. “My brain works a lot different than everyone else. I was the only person in my village that had it. I had Suguru, but there were days when I still felt lonely. Satoru is like me, but he doesn’t…um…we feel it different ways. And he and Suguru are so strong.” You smile softly. “See? I know you’re not a sorcerer, but we’re still a lot alike, right?”

She nods while rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t want to make anyone feel bad.”

“I don’t, either. That’s why I didn’t talk about it for a long time. But it hurt Suguru and Satoru more that I felt so bad for so long without telling them about it.” She’s still conflicted. You empathize with her to the point of pain. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell anyone else right now if you’re not ready. I know about it now, so if you ever feel sad or left behind, you can talk to me.”

“It…it’s really okay for me to bother you?” Tsumiki asks hesitantly.

“It’s not a bother. You’re not a bother, Tsumiki.” For so long, you felt like a bother. On your bad days, you still do. A child should never have to feel that way, especially not one with as beautiful a soul as Tsumiki. “I really enjoy our time together. It’s fun to cook with you and I want to do it a lot more.”

She gives a wobbly smile through her sniffles. “I love to do arts and crafts with you and Mimiko and Nanako. I want to be as good at drawing as you are.”

“I’m excited to see how far you go,” you tell her honestly. “Would you like a hug before you go?”

“Yes, please.”

“Come smoke with me before I leave, Squid.”

Ugh. You know that he and Satoru definitely overheard the conversation with Tsumiki because they’re super nosy. There’s no way out of it. You’ll have to deal with them both. Might as well get over it. “Megumi,” you call out politely, “Can you help your sister finish up?”

“Sure,” Megumi answers from where he’s on the couch with a book.

Suguru goes ahead to the balcony, waiting until you’re outside and slid the door shut behind you to light a cigarette. “I’ll try to be better around her for you,” is the first thing he says.

Your eyes narrow. “Have you done something to make her feel unwelcome?”

“No…but I haven’t gone out of my way to make her feel included, either.”

You sigh. “If it’s too hard for you to be around her so much, I won’t bring them over to your place anymore.”

“No. I…I genuinely do want to try.” He breathes out a cloud of smoke. “I didn’t realize until listening to you with her that I had made so much of my identity sorcery. Part of the reason why I want to be a teacher is to make sure that students aren’t faceless cogs in a machine, but I’ve done that very thing to myself.”

 “I get it.” You step beside him where he’s leaned against the railing. “I’ve done it, too. We worked so hard to make Satoru stop seeing himself as a weapon, but then we went and made ourselves feel like one.” He nods in agreement. “I didn’t realize that I was doing that with drawing. It became an extension of my technique, became a chore instead of a thing I love. It wasn’t until I saw the girls do it and love it themselves that I remembered why I’d even started doing it in the first place.”

“I want to buy a record player.” He laughs. “Remember the times we’d lay around and listen to the radio?”

You sigh nostalgically. “I miss that thing. It was one of the few times you actually doodled with me.”

“I’m not gifted with art like you are and I’m too much of a perfectionist. I hated that I wasn’t immediately good at it like you were.” He pauses, glancing off into the distance, pensive. “I like cooking. I love to provide for everyone.” It’s an olive branch, of sorts. Something for him to use to better connect with Tsumiki.

“The problem with jujutsu society,” you start slowly, “is that we’ve cut ourselves off from non-sorcerers. It’s easy to stay away from them. It’s hard to be close with people who can never know about this massive part of your life. We save them. They have no idea that we do which breeds resentment while, at the same time, causing us to feel superior to them. You and Satoru are perfect examples of the end result. Two side of the same coin—resentment and superiority.”

Suguru studies you for a few minutes, taking drags of his cigarette. Finally, he asks, “How do you do it?” You tilt your head to the side, confused. “How come you’ve never resented them?”

“I wouldn’t…exactly say that. Hmm, it’s not resentment, I guess. I definitely feel unappreciated, but I also understand why they can’t know.” You rock back and forth on your feet. “The truth is, I’ve walked hand-in-hand with resentment for my whole life. I’ve resented my mind. I envy people who can walk in their world without trouble, both sorcerer and not. But…I always had you. We connected as sorcerers, in a way that no one else in our village could understand. During our first year of high school, I met Satoru and connected with him in a way that you could never understand. That’s what it’s all about, I guess.”

“What? Connection?”

“Yeah. Sorcerers can pretend they’re not all they want, but we are all connected by the human experience. That’s the very least. I know that there’s going to always be something that connects me to another person, something that we can bond over. I’ve craved to be understood all my life, so why wouldn’t I try to understand another person—sorcerer or not?” You nod to yourself, satisfied with your conclusion. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“That’s it, she says, while giving some groundbreaking wisdom,” Suguru says with a huff of disbelief.

“You’re just being dramatic now.”

He sighs, snuffing his cigarette out in the tray that you bought specifically for him and Shoko. “No, you just never give yourself enough credit.” He smiles softly. “I promise to keep working at it.”

It’s a Sunday, almost three months into your relationship, when you wake before Satoru does.

Thank goodness, you groggily think. You’ve been worried about him. It’s the dead of summer now which means a rise in cursed spirit activity. It’s not until now that you realized how easy the higher-ups were taking it on you all in high school, even with both Satoru and Suguru at the Special Grade label. Headquarters no longer cares about Satoru’s status as a student. And now that it’s July and summer break for him, the higher-ups go even harder.

Over in the corner of the room, Gato and Toru are still curled up, asleep. They’ve become your little alarm clocks, but even they seem to want to sleep in today. It’s the right kind of idea. With a soft, happy sigh, you wiggle back to bury yourself further in Satoru’s arms. It’s only then that you suddenly become aware of something poking against your ass.

Satoru moans softly in his sleep before he starts unconsciously grinding against you.

You’re not totally clueless. You know that, usually, if someone has a dick, it gets hard in the morning. Actually, you’ve seen and felt it before with Suguru. Before your parents totally banned him from sleepovers, he’d roll over when you both woke up and you’d sometimes catch a peek of the tent in his shorts. When he started sneaking into your dorm room in high school, you’d feel it, too. You were always polite to just never bring attention to it.

But in all the years that you’ve slept in the same bed as Satoru, he has never gotten hard around you. That, paired with the fact that he was never hard when you two made out, and you’d assumed that he simply doesn’t feel sexually attracted to you. It was any easy thing to accept because you’d gone so many years without feeling it yourself. It wasn’t until you were in high school for the switch to your libido to turn on. Before these past three months when you think a little too hard about Satoru, you think the last time that you’d felt a hint of lust was that July afternoon when you and Suguru took each other’s virginities.

Bodies do what bodies do, though. Unless you’re thinking about Satoru, getting off feels like cleaning out the pipes. You figure that’s what’s probably going on here, but you don’t want to…you’re not actually sure what. For some reason, it feels wrong to let it happen without his knowledge. Natural bodily reaction or not. You think you should wake him up.

Satoru has already beaten you to the punch. Hips still moving, he sighs as happily as you did, softly murmuring your name. You wait for him to process the situation. You’ll follow his lead—not mention it unless he brings it up. “Mm, feels good,” he whispers as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

And that does it for you. It sends a shiver down your spine and has the place between your legs throbbing. “Good morning,” you greet hoarsely. At the sound of your voice, Satoru freezes. You crane your head to the side, trying to glance at him over your shoulder. He is, predictably, turning so red that you’re worried there’s going to be steam coming off him. “Don’t freak out,” you say ahead of time, trying to calm him down.

“I’m not!” Satoru shouts defensively, voice pitched high in distress. You’re not focused on that, though. Because suddenly, you stop feeling his dick against your ass. Which wouldn’t be a big deal if he had pulled away, but he hasn’t. While his hips are still pressed against the curve of you, you just…stop feeling the hardness of him.

“What the—” Satoru is faster than you, scrambling away while you’re rolling over on your other side. With narrowed eyes, you watch him as he’s now propped up against the headboard, covers carefully placed over his lap along with his hands. “What did you just do?”

“I’m going to go feed those little heathens.”

Oh, okay, you see how it is. He really wants to play this game, huh? Fine. “Okay. Go ahead.”

He hesitates before weakly suggesting, “You can go back to sleep now.”

“No. I’m awake now,” you reply coolly as you lean up on an elbow, holding your cheek in your hand.

He’s definitely starting to sweat now. “If you’re awake then you go do it.”

“They can wait.”

Satoru loses his patience at your insistence on not looking away. “Sketch.”

“Satoru.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

He covers his face with his hands, groaning like he’s in agony. “Don’t make me talk about this.”

Hmm. What can you do to make him more comfortable? This is definitely a talk that you two need to have. You’ve been making assumptions when you should’ve just asked him up front if sex was going to be on the table or not. “If I roll over, will it be easier to talk to me?”

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it at all!” His cheeks puff out and he crosses his arms over his chest, clearly pouting, but he eventually relents. “Yeah, fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you remark as you move back to your original position. “It’s what your body does.” You pause, thinking of how to further reassure him. “If I’m not allowed to be embarrassed about my brain, you shouldn’t have to hide that from me. How are you hiding it, by the way?” Satoru mumbles something. You think you catch it, but you dryly request, “A little louder, please.”

“Infinity,” he answers, loud and bitchy.

It takes a lot to not turn back over, but you swore you’d stay. “You…were using your technique…to keep me from feeling it when you get hard,” you summarize. Just to confirm. You’re not going to laugh. You’re not going to laugh.

“Yes,” he mumbles.

Hmm, that seemed a little too easy for him to do. As if he had practice with doing it before. “How long have you been doing this?”

He’s reluctant to answer. “I worked on figuring it out after that day in our second year. The…the one on the field…when you were underneath me.”

“Wait one second!” You remember that day! It was where you two ended up in a compromising position and he’d accidentally pressed his knee against your pussy. You get tangled in the sheets temporarily in your rush to turn over and sit up, facing him directly. “Is that the reason you stole my sweatshirt?”

Satoru’s shoulders are slowly hunching up to his ears. “I couldn’t help it! You were so pretty, moving around almost like a dance! Then, I know it was because you got hurt from the fall, but my dick couldn’t tell the difference between a good moan or a bad moan! I panicked!”

You burst out into laughter despite your burning cheeks. He whines your name. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him, so you try to explain through your laughing, “I’m relieved that my plan worked. I hoped you thought it was because I hurt myself, but it was just because you turned me on when your knee bumped against my…y’know.” You motion toward your crotch.

“Seriously?!”

“Seriously,” you confirm as your laughter settles down. “Jeez, Satoru, this whole time…I thought you just weren’t into me that way.”

“Sketch, why would I ask you out if I wasn’t into you that way?”

You shrug. “You can still love someone without needing to have sex with them. I know everyone else assumes you have to do that when you’re a couple, but…I never really got turned on that much until that day, honestly. So, yeah, I think they’re two separate things.”

In an instant, Satoru has straightened up and watches you seriously. “Do you ever want to fuck?” He cringes, maybe at how crude that sounded. “In the future, I mean. We don’t have to. I liked you way before then, since we were first years. If you never wanna have sex, I still want to be with you.”

“Didn’t you hear me just say you turned me on?” You scoot toward him, reaching out to push his bangs away from his forehead, making him lift his eyes. “If you’re okay with it then, yes, I want to do that with you.” You pull your hand away, suddenly remembering that there’s something crucial you haven’t told him about. “Um…so…just full honesty here…uh, I’m…I’m not a virgin.”

Satoru snatches your wrist, eyes wild and desperate. “What?! Who—”

“Suguru,” you admit quietly while pulling your arm away from his grasp.

“Oh.” He exhales loudly as if he’s relieved and holds a hand above his heart. “Jeez, Sketch, you really scared me for a second there. Don’t ever do that again. I thought there was someone else.”

You tilt your head to the side, confused. “But…there…was someone else?”

“Someone that’s not Suguru,” he replies with a roll of the eyes. As if you’re silly for pointing that out. “If I trust anyone to take care of you, it’s him. Duh.” Oh. Well. That…went better than expected? Actually, you’re not sure how you thought he was going to respond. “But when’d that happen? How?”

“Oh. Uh…third year. The July before…everything.” You chew the inside of your cheek, debating on how much to tell him, but it’s not like Satoru doesn’t already know everything about you and Suguru, anyway. “I mean, originally, I came up with stupid idea that if we were virgins by the end of high school, we’d fix that for each other, and he agreed. I…honestly, I’d forgotten all about it until he brought it back up. And…” You sigh. “I wanted to make him happy.”

Satoru looks concerned. “You only did it for him?”

Yeah, you should’ve worded that better. You know how it must sound from his end. That you were appeasing Suguru, that it was all about him. “It wasn’t only him getting something out of it! He definitely took care of me. It felt really, really good! We—” you squirm uncomfortably. You have to be honest about how you were feeling at the time and that’s hard to do. “I can’t speak for him, but…I think he probably felt the same. I felt so out of control with everything that was happening. I felt like everyone and everything was slipping away, especially him. It made him happy, and it made me happy, too.”

His features soften, less worried now. “Have you…uh…talked about it since then?”

“No. You know what happened after. And it took us so long to start talking again. And by the time we were close to what we were before, you asked me out.” You fidget with the sheets. “Do…do you think I should talk to him? I don’t know what I’d even say.”

“You could ask him to join us?”

As always, Satoru brings levity to the situation. Snorting, you shove at him. “Be serious!”

“Who says I wasn’t, huh?” But he’s grinning, strained as it may be. “I don’t know. I guess you’re right. Suguru was the one who actively encouraged me to ask you out, so…I guess he’s not hung up on it.” That…stings, for some reason. Maybe it’s the timing of it all that makes it hurt. If things had gotten better…then what? What would you have done? That question makes your chest tight. “So, you wanna pop my cherry?”

He yanks you from the emotions welling up inside your chest. “Satoru!”

“That’s what I’m hearing, isn’t it?”

“You could be less crass about it!”

His smile comes a little easier. He lashes out, snatching your wrists, dragging you forward toward him. Giggling, you pretend to put up a fight. “You want me to be more poetic about it?” He gets you in his lap, hands braced on his shoulders. “Please, my dear Sketch, be my guide through the erotic arts.”

“That’s somehow worse,” you mutter. Then, you shake your head and sigh fondly. “We should probably take it slow since you won’t even let me feel your dick.”

“I’ll let you feel it right now!”

Toru and Gato decide, at that exact moment, that they’ve waited long enough for breakfast. Toru does his favorite thing when Satoru is around which is throw himself on top of Satoru’s head, white fluff on more white fluff. Gato likes Satoru more than Toru does and lovingly tries to slip under Satoru’s shirt, but he’s still yowling like he’s dying of starvation.

“Menaces to society,” Satoru complains.

“The cutest menaces to society,” you coo while reaching up to take Toru into your loving arms.

You should’ve expected that Satoru would plan to take things faster in regard to the whole sex thing. Suggesting taking it slow probably came off as you trying to take it easy on him which, of course, would not stand in his eyes and would have him seeing it as a challenge.

For the past two weeks since that morning, he’s been restless when you do have the chance to see him. Since the end of the college semester, you could count with your fingers how many times he’s actually been in his apartment. Even if it’s to crash in your bed while you’re at work, hoping to spend even a little time with you before he’s called away.

You’ve been seriously debating on spiking the coffee of one or two higher-ups in order to influence them to take it easier on him, but Satoru would be upset. That’s playing with fire. And he’s right, you suppose. You need to test the limits of your technique, refine it, see if it’s possible to make it untraceable. So, no use of your technique unless under dire circumstances.

Satoru texted you with a heads up that he’s napping in your bed and said he left some cash on your table to use to stock up your pantry with sweets since he’s been burning through them. You don’t feel like arguing with him over who pays, so you do as he asks this time. With Toru and Gato weaving through your legs and almost tripping you—their daily routine—you make your way to the kitchen, but the only thing there is his wallet.

“I knew I should’ve reminded him to get the cash out before he went to sleep,” you whisper to yourself and the stillness of your apartment. It still feels weird going through his wallet. “Should I wake him up?” It’s pondering out loud, but Toru answers with a chirrup. If he could talk, it’d probably be a resounding yes.

You decide against it. He needs actual sleep. Not Reverse Cursed Technique. That doesn’t remove emotional fatigue. Toru yowls in offense when you don’t leave the kitchen and instead pick up Satoru’s wallet. You flip it open, peeling it apart, and your brows raise to your hairline when you see what’s tucked away in there alongside his cash.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you take the bills, close his wallet, place it back where it was on the table, and you’re headed back out the door.

You don’t bring it up until after you’ve both had dinner together, you’ve showered, and you’re settling in for bed. His nap was enough to recharge his brain, so he’ll be playing the PlayStation 2 that appears to have taken up permanent residence in your bedroom. He’s cross-legged at the end of the bed, tongue poking out, and his eyes briefly dart over to you.

Then, he does a double-take and stares at you with wide eyes while you hear the telltale sound of the game’s death screen.

Oh, that’s definitely boosting your ego. Goes to show what simply taking off your sports bra can do. When it comes to Satoru, anyway. This only further cements how sheltered he truly was. But…your only point of reference is Suguru and you two literally grew up together. You were never totally naked around each other, but he never outright ogled when your nipples were showing through your shirt.

“You’re blushing,” you tease.

“I’m not!”

“How are we going to use that condom in your wallet if you can’t even look at me?” You laugh at the look of pure horror on his face. Like a deer caught in headlights. “Are you trying to speedrun sex?”

“No,” he lies. “But even if I was, it’s fine. I’m ready. You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

Humming, you slowly approach him. He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress now, so you can stand between his open legs. “Do you ever stop to think about how much you keep Infinity up?” He’s even doing it right now. He doesn’t lower it quick enough, so your fingers meet resistance when going to card them through his hair. “Everything felt turned up to an eleven when I was doing it with Suguru. I can’t imagine what it’s going to feel like for you.”

“I can handle it,” he grumbles with a pout.

“Fine. Do you feel like fooling around right now?”

“Right now?” Satoru squeaks.

“Only if you’re up for it,” you say sweetly.

“Yes,” he breathes out. “Holy shit, yes. I am so ready,” he declares as he rubs his sweaty palms across his shorts.

It feels like you should feel more nervous than you do right now. Then again, you’ve slowly been learning that the littlest things about you turn him on. Letting him see you fully naked doesn’t seem so daunting when you know how attracted he already is to you.

You’re still standing between his legs when you slowly pull your shirt up and over your head, so your breasts are right there in his face when you toss the garment over in the corner of the room. He’s transfixed. There might even be a little drool at the corner of his mouth. But, despite what people may think, Gojo Satoru is a gentleman with his girlfriend and doesn’t touch. His fingers twitch, but he doesn’t move his hands.

“You’re really good when you wanna be, y’know,” you remark amusedly. Interestingly enough, his cheeks turn redder when you tell him that. “You can touch me.” You hear the click of his throat when he swallows. “Is it okay for me to touch you?” He nods silently. “Can I take off your shirt?”

Satoru, while yanking his shirt over his head, says, “How would it even work if I told you no?”

“Maybe you want me to keep my hands to myself while you explore my body!”

His metaphorical ears perk up. “Is that on the table?”

The truth is that you’ve been thinking about this since you found that condom in his wallet and decided to confront him. You wanted something to happen. Not that you’d try to pressure him if he wasn’t ready! But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping this is how things would play out.

“As long as you let me touch you after.” He nods eagerly. You chuckle softly before turning around and flopping back on your mattress. “Okay, then. My body is all yours.”

There’s that panicked expression again. Also, he moves his arm to cover his crotch. “Um…maybe don’t say that again…”

“You know the whole point of this is us being turned on, right? You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

He sighs in defeat before admitting, “I don’t want to come fast and embarrass myself, okay?”

“If you come just from me talking to you then I feel like that’s a sign from the heavens to marry you.”

Your attempts at trying to ease his mind seem to be working because he grins at you when you say that. He closes the distance, putting his hands on either side of your head. “Wait. Keep going. I’m almost there.”

“You’re not really beating those allegations of being whipped that Shoko throws your way.”

“Sorry that I love my Sketch.” You instinctively turn your head away, overwhelmed by the emotions that build inside you when he says that. It was the wrong thing to do because he immediately pounces. “Eh?” He drops down on his elbows, lowering himself so his body presses against yours, and shifts to put his face right in front of yours. “You know the whole point of this is us being turned on, right?”

Figures that he’d throw your words back at you.

“It’s not me getting turned on,” you protest. “I…I’m not used to it yet! I’d react the same way if you said it in a non-sexual setting!”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he sings. “I think it could totally be both. We should test it out!” And that smirk on his face spells nothing but trouble for your future. “Should I tell my Sketch how much I love her while I’m exploring her body?”

“I’ll give as good as I get,” you hiss. “I swear I’ll make you come so fast, Gojo Satoru!”

“But my Sketch wouldn’t make fun of me for that. She said so.” He’s still smirking smugly, putting his hand on your cheek to guide your head back toward the ceiling. “Because she���s so kind to me.” His face is above yours. “She’s as beautiful inside as she outside.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “All my dreams are coming true because of her.”

“Stop talking about me in the third person,” you stutter., betraying just how flustered you’re getting. “Just stop talking about me period!”

“Why?” One of his hands moves to your thigh, tentatively squeezing. “You like this, right? That’s why you’ve been squeezing your legs together.” You have been. You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but you’ve been trying to ease the pressure inside you, but his stupid waist is in the way.

This is infuriating—how your brain lights up like a firecracker at the praise yet somehow can’t handle it.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m doing it,” you explain slowly as a plan starts forming. You’ll just have to distract him. “Do you want to feel what you’ve been doing to me?”

He audibly gulps.

Satoru learns his lesson about rushing things. Your hunch about his sensitivity had been right. While he has his hand stuck down your shorts, having found a good rhythm after exploring that part of you, you’re on the cusp of orgasm and instinctively try to quiet your noises. Because of your height differences, your face is at his collarbones, so you give your mouth something to do by licking one of his nipples.

He tears you away from orgasm when he tears his hand away to grip at the covers. You pull your face away long enough to see him squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, but his hips buck and he loses control. His groan is loud, almost sounding pained, but it felt like that for you, too, the first time you came from someone else’s touch.

“I forgot about the tongue piercing,” he wheezes when he’s come down from it.

You don’t remind him that he feels it every single time he kisses you with tongue. Mainly because he’s shoving said tongue back in your mouth as he kisses you roughly. You stop thinking when he shoves his hand back down your shorts and quickly sends you careening over the edge of orgasm soon after.

It happens on a random day in early November.

You’re meticulously going over all the details of a plan you’re going to propose to the higher-ups in a week. You’ve been buried in files, been forced to make potential recruitment calls, and test your math skills with someone from budgeting. You didn’t even know headquarters had a budgeting department. It’s been a test of your patience. No wonder nothing ever gets done. The higher-ups make it as painful as possible to even suggest a plan.

Shoko had dinner with you and Satoru. Though, it was more of a working one for you. Shoko demanded you leave the paperwork behind, but you primly reminded her that this is your apartment, and you’ll do what you want. And after you scarfed down your food, you were right back at the chabudai.

Shoko taps the chabudai, her fist in your field of vision. You glance up at her, blinking. She has her coat on and a cigarette hanging from her lips, ready to be lit and smoked as soon as she leaves. “I’m leaving,” she announces. “Please stop working for the night and entertain your idiotic boyfriend. He’s been watching you like a creep for the last ten minutes.”

Oh. You thought he’d sat down to play his Nintendo DS while you worked. It’s there, on the chabudai, but it’s off. Satoru has an elbow leaned on the table and, as Shoko said, is watching you with a grin. “He does that sometimes. He likes to watch my cursed energy.”

“And you actually believe that?” Shoko shoots back dryly.

“What else would it be?”

“Yeah, Shoko, what else would it be?” Satoru repeats in a mocking tone. “You don’t know me.”

“I do know you. You’re just openly doing the thing you’ve been doing since we were first years—looking at Duck like a lovesick puppy.”

You squint at Satoru who is having a stare down with Shoko. The flush high on his cheeks is a dead giveaway, though. “Well, it is his right,” you defend. “Be thankful we’re not in public.”

Shoko makes a noise of disgust. “He does it there, too.”

“I can’t control where or how he looks.”

“Ugh, I didn’t think it was possible for you to spoil him more.”  Then, she throws her hands up in defeat and heads toward the door. “I’m leaving now before I’m sent into a sugar-induced coma by watching you two swoon over each other.”

“Bye!” Satoru and you both shout after her simultaneously.

“See you!” Shoko calls back before the door shuts, so she clearly isn’t that upset about the behavior if she’s not storming out without another word.

It’s too bad Shoko didn’t stick around because her complaint did do something good which is pull you away from work. You lean up to your full height, back popping from being hunched over for so long. Satoru sees this as the perfect opportunity to tackle you to the floor and start peppering your face with kisses.

“Maybe she’s right,” you say between kisses and laughter. “Maybe I am spoiling you.”

“No, you’ve been depriving me of love, actually,” he whines. “And you haven’t even told me what you’re working on.”

“Because I know you’d threaten the higher-ups to accept it.”

“I would not!” He flattens himself against you, digging his chin between the valley of your breasts, pouting up at you. “I’d give them just a little nudge in the right direction.”

You tilt your head back against the tatami. How many times do you have to explain this to him? “I need to earn their trust. Does it make me feel sleazy? Yes. But it has to be done. We need someone on the inside. The whole reason you wanted to teach was to make stronger allies, to get people on your side rather than throw your weight around and scare everyone.” You run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly as his scalp. “Let me handle the bureaucratic bullshit, alright?”

“Fine,” he agrees with a huff. Clearly, he’s not very upset because he bats his lashes at you, bottom lip stuck out, trying to look as cute as possible. “I still think you should do something to make up for depriving me of girlfriend time.”

Girlfriend time—as if you actually go out that much. Most of the time, you both exist in the same room, doing things that you both love while occasionally bringing the other into it. “Yeah? What do you want for your so-called compensation?”

Then, cheery as anything, he chirps, “I think you should fuck me!”

The weight of the request compared to the silliness as he asks it has your brain stuttering. “Um…like…you want to get off together?”

“I mean—” he scratches the bridge of his nose, “—hopefully that happens in the process. I don’t really know how long I’ll last when I’m inside you, though. I’ll definitely go down on you if I come before you. Or before.” He waggles his brows. “I’d like something savory for dessert.”

Heat rushes across your body. You’re not sure if it’s from arousal or being flustered. “Ugh, don’t…don’t describe me like I’m food—”

“I can be more descriptive if you want?”

“More?”

He nods eagerly. “Oh, yeah. I could wax poetry about your pussy.”

The absurdity of this situation has you dropping your head back and bursting out into laughter. This is such a filthy conversation to have, absolutely ridiculous, but you’re simply overwhelmed with love for him. It’s just so…Satoru. And you don’t know how you got so lucky to have this perverted dork love you the way he does. So brash and blunt yet so considerate and caring, thinking of every detail ahead of time to make sure you’re taken care of and happy.

“Just…just don’t,” you beg through your laughter. “No waxing poetry is needed.”

“Eh? But I made a haiku and everything!”

The fact that you don’t know if he’s serious or not has you laughing harder. “You’re so stupid,” you breathe out while tugging him up so you can get your mouth on his. “I love you so much.” He grins against your mouth. “Let’s go to bed and finally put that condom in your wallet to use.”

By the time you’re back in your bedroom, your shirt and bra are already off. Satoru made a brief detour to the kitchen for his wallet, but he’s nothing if not efficient, so his shirt is also already off when he sprints back to the bedroom with you. Condom wrapper between his teeth, he’s already unbuttoning his pants, too. Chuckling, you close the distance between you two, fingers hooking in his waistband, taking over tugging down his pants for him.

You’re both naked when you fall back on your mattress together. You’re sprawled out, but Satoru is on his knees, bracketing your legs. He claps his hands together and bows his head a little, looking so goofy while doing all this with a hard dick. “Please be gentle with me, Senpai.”

You snort. “You’re literally the oldest here.”

He drops the pose, hunching over so his face is hovering over yours. “But you’re the senpai in sex!”

“I’ve only had sex once.”

“One more time than me.”

In the corner of your eye, you catch the movement of him rubbing his hands against your sheets. Not suspicious at all. You see this for what it is. “Hey,” you whisper as you reach out to touch his cheek. “Are you nervous?”

“Me?” He scoffs dismissively. “No.”

So…yes. You place your hands on his bare shoulders, sliding them around to thread your fingers through the soft, white hair at the base of his neck. “Hypothetically, if you were nervous, then why?”

“Hypothetically,” he stresses as the bravado slips away for something less confident, “I want this to be special for you, and I’m worried I’m not doing that.” He pauses. “Again, purely hypothetical.”

“Purely hypothetical,” you repeat wryly before sighing. “It’s already special because it’s you. There’s nothing more for you to do but be the person I love.”

“Smooth,” he compliments.

Trying to keep the playfulness going to ease his nerves, you shoot him a sly grin. “Don’t worry. Senpai will take care of you.”

“Ooh, we should get your uniform skirt out and get some knee-high socks for you. That’d be so sexy.”

You lean forward to shut him up with a kiss.

It goes like that for a while, the two of you trading sensual kisses as you roll around. At one point, you’re on top, straddling him, grinding to chase after the flickers of pleasure when his cock bumps against your clit. He doesn’t let that last long, rolling over to pin you back underneath him, and he starts sucking bruises into your skin while pinching a nipple between his fingers. You give a ragged breath and cradle the side of his face in a hand.

Slowly, he kisses his way down your body—neck, valley of your breasts, and pausing at your belly. “Now or after?”

You’d really love to come on his cock. Fooling around with Satoru has made you learn you like being full when you come, but you’ve only done this once two years ago. “It’s easier when I’m wet,” you mumble. “And you’re…big.”

Satoru doesn’t even preen at the compliment, too eager to get down to your pussy. You’re not sure what you expected Satoru to be like in bed, but he loves going down on you. The very first time, it turned him on so much that he came in his shorts only after a few thrusts against the bed. And…you love it, too. A lot. Sometimes, it’s been hard for you to get off because you’re so distracted by the callousness of his fingers against your clit, but you don’t feel that with his tongue. But you feel guilty because it takes longer for you to come than him.

It's his first time, though, you think blearily as he yanks you further down the bed so he can drop to his knees on the edge of the mattress. If this is what he wants, then this is what he gets. You gasp softly at the first swipe of his tongue, heart racing with a blend of nervousness and excitement. You instinctively move to bite at your fist to silence yourself—a leftover from the few times you tried getting off when living with your parents. Satoru grabs your wrists before you can, guiding them to clench at the sheets, greedily wanting to hear you.

“Fingers,” you demand breathlessly when your legs start trembling. “Get me ready for your cock.” He moans against your pussy, the vibration making you yelp and unthinkingly clutch at his hair. He moans again and your toes curl. “Fingers,” you insist. All the thoughts just leave his head when he’s got his mouth on you.

Satoru manages to slip three in you before you barrel over the edge. You knew you were excited and turned on, but jeez. Usually, when he licks inside you along with his fingers, that’s never quite enough to finish the job, but not tonight. You end up boxing his head in with your thighs, trembling and arching up from the mattress. You’re blinking stars out of your eyes when he grabs you by the hips and manhandles you back up the mattress so he’s kneeling over you again.

“Should I wait?” Satoru hesitantly asks.

Dazedly, you answer, “Go for it. Just don’t make me try to come.” You hear the crinkle of the condom and lean up on an elbow, watching him rip it open. “Want me to help?”

“I say this with nothing but love in my heart for you,” he starts with a strained smile, “but do not go anywhere near my dick right now. Don’t even look at me. I swear I’m about to bust at just the sight of you looking like that, I’m so serious. All fucked out and like…like an ethereal goddess…”

You flop back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling with a laugh. “Fucked out, maybe. Ethereal goddess? Now, you’re the one that’s spoiling me.” You spread your legs wider when he touches the inside of your knees, shivering when you hear that little hitch in his breath at the sight of you. “Someone has to be humble in this relationship.”

Satoru says nothing, so you tilt your head up, watching him. Kneeled between your legs, he has one hand still on your knee, absentmindedly running his thumb over the skin. In his other hand, he’s got the condom on and is holding his dick. He’s staring at your pussy with a weird mix of…determination and anxiety?

As your mouth is opening to check on him, he lifts his eyes to meet yours before nervously blurting, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

There’s another reason that he’s more focused on your pleasure than his own. Like in your first year, he had issues with control over Infinity—only around you and Suguru. “Come here,” you beckon while reaching out your arms for him. He flattens himself against your body, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “You won’t hurt me. Your body doesn’t recognize me as a threat, remember?” Satoru has only ever trusted you and Suguru, so deeply that his body acknowledged this truth before Satoru himself figured it out. “But we don’t have to keep going.”

“I want to.” His lips drag across your skin. Intimate like this, your nerves are livewires, sparking at even the lightest touch. “I want to be with you,” he confesses while lacing his fingers through yours. “I want to give this to you.”

Haven’t you already given me everything? Love and trust, above all else. He’s told you that he’s stared at the shape of your soul, but you don’t need his eyes to be able to see his just as well. When you’re with each other, there are no masks. They’re dropped at the door. You are yourselves, true and unabashed. Sketch and Satoru. This is to be known. This is love.

Satoru doesn’t stretch you as much at the first time you did this, but he reaches so much deeper. You keep control of his pace with your nails dug into the skin of his hips, pushing when you need a second to breathe. Just when you think there can’t be much more left, there is. And when he’s buried to the hilt, trembling under your hands, you swear you can feel him in your throat. You gasp, tangling your legs with his.

“Not lasting long,” he warns through gritted teeth.

“Wanna stay there?” You reach down between your bodies, giving an experimental glide of your fingers over your clit. Sensitive, but doable. “I can go again, I think,” you admit breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

Oh, the sound of his voice, husky and seductive, makes you throb. You clutch at him tighter. “Yeah,” you confirm. “You feel so good.”

“Fuck, not as good as you.” He gives an experimental roll of his hips, and you feel the shudder roll through him. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. It feels so good, you have no idea. I never wanna leave your pussy. I wanna die here. This is heaven. Actual heaven.” Your fingers trail across his collarbone, the skin flushed and glistening with sweat. “Please,” he begs. You hum in question. “Please, don’t go near my nipples. Please. I need some of my pride left.”

“Don’t worry. You’re doing so well right now.”

“No, no, no, let’s not do that right now. That is not helping the way you think it is.”

So, the reassurance did not reassure. “Sorry,” you apologize without really feeling sorry. You’re going to tuck that little tidbit away for later. He’s already struggling enough as it is. “You know you can come, though, right? That’s sort of the point. I got mine already.”

“I refuse to be a one pump chump,” he says with a huff.

“I could be really mean right now,” you tease as your fingers glide dangerously close to a nipple. “Is this what it feels like to be the strongest? I think I’m experiencing a power trip right now.”

Satoru snorts. You giggle. Then, the both of you are laughing. “And here I was trying to be serious about all this,” he says through his giggling.

“I don’t want serious. I want Satoru.”

He sighs softly, arching his back to get his mouth on yours. “You’re so romantic,” he whispers against your mouth. “I love you so much, y’know?”

You touch his cheek, smiling shyly. “I love you, too.”

The silliness melts away, tenderness and love remaining. Your earlier plan goes out the window because you don’t want to stop holding his hands when he laces his fingers through yours again, keeping them up by your head. It takes three thrusts before he’s gripping your hands so tight, entire body going tense, and moaning in your ear as he comes. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and that is when you pull your hand away to rub at your clit. There’s no more burn of oversensitivity. You’re burning hot for him, and you come almost as fast as he does.

It's a quiet process afterward. He ties the condom off, easily tossing it in the little trashcan by your nightstand. You’re starting to doze when he shifts down on the mattress enough to place his head in the valley of your breasts. You card your fingers through his hair, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to his steady breaths.

“No Reverse Curse Technique tonight,” you mumble, halfway asleep. “Rest your brain.”

“Okay,” Satoru agrees as sleepily as you. “Phone off, too.”

“Good,” are the last words you remember being spoken before you’re drifting off.