#BUT I FEEL LIKE THERE'S SO MUCH I CAN DO WITH THIS CONCEPT

[melody-magic]

so as a third world transfem there's a bit of a parallel that ive noticed and it goes kinda like this:

if you live in the Imperial Core (or maybe even first world countries in general tbh), you never have to consider the third world in your worldview. what i mean is, you can be born, have a long, rich, fulfilling life and then die of old age, never having thought of any of us beyond the 5 minutes after you get shown some sort of news piece. there's vast, vast swathes of people that think of mexico, or nicaragua, or argentina, or or or or - as basically just names on a map, if that much. we're not people to them, not really. and when we stand up and say "no actually, we are human beings, people worth just as much as any citizen of the Imperial Core", they get upset! because we are shaking the fundamentals of their worldview.

and there's not necessarily any malice involved! like, obviously some people that feel like this are malicious, but their personal feelings are irrelevant. the point is that their position insulates them both from knowing us and from any consequences of not knowing us, while we most assuredly are not protected from either of those things in response.

if you are not transfem, even if you are also queer in some way, a similar concept applies. you can have a full, rich, fulfilling queer existence while never having to take us into account! you can go to queer and inclusive events, watch queer and inclusive creators and shows, read queer and inclusive books, and so on and so forth, where we don't feature at all, or if we do, we are a throwaway! and so, when we stand up and say "hey actually we deserve as much space and respect as anyone else", they get upset! because we are shaking the fundamentals of their worldview.

im not saying they're related but ultimately both of these worldviews stem from a position of privilege, and can only be eliminated by destroying that privilege. i dont really know how we do that but this is mostly meant as an observation rather than a solutions post.

[amomentsescape]

Slashers handling ovulating s/o?? 😚

Btw I love your work so much! You’re amazing

Slashers with Ovulating! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo

Warnings: MDNI, suggestive and mature content (It gets pretty steamy but nothing too crazy)

A/N: Definitely the most NSFW fic I've posted on this page. As a reminder, I don't write smut so this will probably be as steamy as I get for my posts. But this was a fun request, and I enjoyed writing for it! Thank you, Anon!

Freddy Krueger

Your dreams give you away

(Yes, he'll watch your dreams if he's not already controlling them; there's no privacy with this man)

And he's very interested in these dreams you've been having recently

It only takes a couple for Freddy to quickly snap

You'll go to sleep one night only to find yourself immediately in Freddy's domain

The setting and environment feeling very familiar somehow

You won't see him at first, but you'll definitely feel him around you, his voice echoing around the dreamscape

"Wanna make those dreams come true, baby?" he cackles throughout the darkness

Before you'll be able to respond, you'll feel his hand slide over your waist

The question was mostly out of politeness

He's not going to let you say no now that he has you (not that you were going to anyways)

Michael Myers

He picks up on everything in an instant

Your smell, your actions, your voice- literally everything is screaming at him

Now, Michael has a lot of self-discipline

He could just go about the day like usual and not need to indulge in anything

But he wants to

Don't mistaken this for "giving in"

It's just another way for him to put himself in control

You're just so desperate for him that he can just about get away with anything he wants

A simple touch has you weak in the knees, a slap on the ass has you arching your back

He could just absolutely ruin you these next few days

And he is very much planning on doing so

Jason Voorhees

Jason is fairly innocent when it comes to this sort of topic with you

But unlike Bubba, he does pick up on your teasing after a bit, he's just too flustered to do anything back

He loves the attention, but the way you're making him feel is causing him to freeze up and blush wildly under his mask

He knows you love him, but he can't understand how someone like you could possibly desire someone like him

He can't even hold eye contact with you when you're looking at him like that

When you've finally grown too impatient, you'll hop on his lap and grab his cheek, forcing him to look at you

He'll give you a big sigh and concerned eyes, silently asking if you're sure

"Jason. I want you. I want you and only you."

Those words must have been laced with magic, because a switch flips, and he's suddenly standing up, holding you bridal style

He'll toss you onto the bed and crawl on top, suddenly more confident than earlier

Looks like all he needs is a little bit of reassurance during this time of the month

Thomas Hewitt

It might just be the primal side of him, but he can literally smell it

Your pheromones during this time of month are always consistent to the point that he anticipates this weeks in advance

He lingers around you more often than normal (which isn't saying much since he stays near you 99% of the time anyways)

He's just waiting for the moment that you'll let him take a bite

And if you bump into him just slightly, his breath hitches and he'll freeze, hoping maybe you'll turn that bump into something more

Stands a little too close to you so he can breathe in your scent

But he's also hoping it'll increase the chance of you rubbing up against him on "accident"

This only makes things worse for the both of you until you two are finally alone together

All you have to do is give him that look, and he's throwing you over his shoulder, locking you two away for the night

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba is a very innocent man

He didn't even really know what the concept of "sex" was before you

So unfortunately for you, pulling out all stops will quite literally do nothing

You could stand there completely bare in front of him, and he'll sweetly think you want to shower

That's not to say you're constant touches and flirting don't do anything for him

They do, he just doesn't understand what that feeling is yet

When you finally get to be alone with him, you'll gently let your hands wander, watching carefully at his reactions

Once you hit a sensitive spot, you'll know

His breath will hitch and he'll give you this soft, pleading look

And once you kiss him, that fire inside him will quickly engulf his body

You just have to give him a sweet questioning glance, and he'll be feverishly nodding his head, grabbing at your wrists to continue

Brahms Heelshire

To be honest, whether or not your ovulating doesn't really change how Brahms acts around you day to day

Because he is always down bad for you

But he does appreciate how quickly you seem to return his advances during this time of the month

He enjoys turning it into some sort of game when he can too

You'll feel his breath on your neck, only to be met with an empty room

You'll feel his gaze on you all throughout the house without a single sight of his whereabouts

When you finally have had enough, you'll break

Turning on the shower peaks his interest

And the moment he sees that first button of your top open, he's revealing himself from the walls

You've been working so hard for him today

He thinks it's time for you to finally relax

Norman Bates

Norman knows before you do

The sweet man tracks your cycles for you, always wanting to be prepared to care for you in the way you need

But this time of month isn't one where he feels too bold

He becomes even more shy somehow, having trouble holding eye contact

Every kiss or hug from you sets him aflame, and he turns into a blushing mess

It's honestly like he's the one who's ovulating

And all you have to do is hold him for just a little bit too long and whisper in his ear to make him break

He'll quite literally fall to his knees in front of you, waiting for anything

He'll do whatever it is you ask

Like I said, he wants to care for you in any way you need

Billy Loomis

He tries to be smug about everything

You're more affectionate than normal, even doing some PDA that he's not used to from you

He just acts like his usual self out in public

But the moment you two are alone, he confronts you

He'll pin you against the door, his free hand wandering across your skin while he looks at you with dark eyes

"You think I can't see what you're doing? It's not very nice of you to be such a tease."

His voice is barely above a whisper while his grip on you tightens

His wandering hand finds the most sensitive spot on you and squeezes, causing you to let out a whimper

He smiles in return

"You're going to have to do better than that to make it up to me," he whispers, leaning in gently

Stu Macher

Look at this guy

He literally can't keep his tongue in his mouth (sorry, bad joke)

He can tell something is up though

You're more cuddly than usual, practically sitting on his lap at all points during the day

And Stu does not mind one bit, but he isn't sure what's gotten into you

You're hoping he'll take the hint, but he's as oblivious as he is happy

It's only when you straddle his lap and kiss him deeply that he understands what's going on

His hands are on you in an instant

He'll happily oblige to your "demands"

Just be careful when and where you decide to break though

Because the moment you open that door, Stu will be having you in that instant

And if he has to pull you into a broom closet in public to do so...

He will

Vincent Sinclair

Despite barely seeing the light of day most of his life, he's fairly knowledgeable about everything

But unlike his brother, he doesn't really get driven up the wall by this time of the month

He just wants you to be happy, so if being flirted with and touched every two seconds is what you want, he'll happily go along with it

Even though his face feels like it's going to burn off again every time

He won't initiate anything, but he also won't say no to anything you do

Just guide his hands and tell him what you need, and he'll be helping you out instantly

He doesn't even expect anything in return

But when you smile at him just like that, his brain might short circuit

He'll be your slave if you ask nicely

Bo Sinclair

Bo is, well, Bo

He sometimes acts like he can't tell or that he's too "deep" into his work at the moment to be bothered

But he knows

And he loves the feeling of being needed and desired

You'll come up to him, hugging him for a bit too long, your hands lingering on his chest and torso

He likes to play coy

He wants to see you break first

He'll happily make it worse for you too

Hands on your waist, a gentle caress of your neck, that piercing gaze of his

He can see your face flush and body practically tremble at his actions

But he won't do anything about it

It won't be until the end of the day when he finally comes back home to find you already waiting at the door

You about have to throw yourself onto him before that smile finally breaks out onto his face

"So impatient, aren't we darlin'? Gonna show me just how badly you need me?"

[lets-try-some-writing]

what if cybertronians haven no sense of taste?? What if one of the kids ask what energon taste like and they got no idea in what they’re talking about???

While I don't think that's canon, I LOVE the concept.

Cybertronians don't taste as humans do. They recognize energon and not energon and that's about it. They can sense bad energon, highly charged energon, and low quality energon through sensors, but it's not exactly taste. It's moreso the ability to feel when their tanks are not a big fan or what they are consuming or note how fuzzy their processors seem to be after a drink. It's a lot of guesswork, but after having spent so long associating with organic species, Cybertronians learned that tasting meant sensing fuel quality (at least that is how they translated and promptly associated with the word).

With that in mind, seeing humans care so much about "taste" is a befuddling thing. They aren't unused to the concept, and so seeing the kids argue over it wasn't out of the ordinary. Bots argue over fuel quality occasionally due to differences in sensitivity. It's when the kids start actively swapping their food or otherwise choosing poorer quality food over the higher quality stuff that the bots become VERY confused. Why a greasy hamburger over the salad and steak right there? According to human nutritional stats, humans need the things in the latter meal more than the former.

Optimus vaguely understands the idea of taste since Primes of old engaged in a million and one vices, including various mental augmentations to experience partial organic sensation. So he has a loose grasp on the concept and can understand that food is a sort of drug as well as nutritional source. But the rest of the team? They do not understand in the slightest. Why choose the gummy worms over the watermelon? Why the fries over the perfectly healthy ham sandwich?

Bulkhead and Wheeljack believe it to be some sort of dominance thing. The weaker humans get the least valuable fuels while the stronger and wiser ones get the healthier stuff (they worry greatly for Miko and her never ending yoinking of the sweet things). Ratchet believes it to be a flaw in the human genome that never fully resolved itself and so just lives with the agitation of watching the children squabble. Bumblebee and Smokescreen have largely taken to observing to try and get it (they do not get it in the slightest). Ultra Magnus is of the opinion that humans are just dumb and that's why they choose the shiny food over the healthy food. Arcee secretly thinks there may actually be something to the unhealthy stuff for humans to flock to it so much.

She may or may not have a little board of research she's done into big dairy and other large food corporations. She knows more about human food than she is comfortable with and has only confided in Optimus about the horrors. He too lives with the knowledge of what humans eat and wallows in it in the dead of night sometimes.

[amomentwiser]

This concept is a little new to me. I would always look for things to do one day before the weekend, and get disappointed when I couldn't find anything interesting and new because most things are sold out.

But then comic con came around and I had to buy tickets for it months in advance because I've wanted to go forever. I also booked a live stand up show (again something I've always wanted to experience) and now I'm so excited for January. Because if it wasn't for these two things, 2025 would look like a blank canvas which would be kinda scary.

This made me realize that planning for a silly little outing months in advance is also something you can do.

I don't usually do this because I have a limited social battery and signing myself up for something can feel like a burden instead of cause for excitement. Like on the day of the event, I might not have the emotional capacity to go and tickets being booked already means I will be forced to.

It's a balance I guess, finding things I'm so excited about I'll definitely want to go regardless of how much effort it takes. Or maybe planning something manageable that gives me something to look forward to, but which I'll be able to do even when I'm feeling unsociable.

Make plans for a month from now, for two months from now, for five. Pick a restaurant and book a reservation for April. Circle a museum exhibit.

Find joy and hold onto it tight. Give yourself a reason to look forward. And keep your community close.

[leahsgf]

DISTANCE II - mcfoord

mcfoord x child!reader | sometimes things work out

read part one here

-

“i’ll figure something out, promise”

the irish woman smiled softly in response to her girlfriend’s words, but she knew deep down that it would be unlikely, as much as she’d love to believe it. flights from australia weren’t typically what you’d think of when you heard of last minute, impromptu plans - and caitlin still had her own international duties to carry out, being without a doubt a pivotal player for the matildas.

despite the call helping your mood massively, the hours and that days that followed it were even worse than before, you demanding to ‘see mumma’ constantly, and simply not understanding the concept of sleeping, or time difference.

-

after about four days of little to no sleep, it’s safe to say you were both pretty close to losing it.

katie had spent most of the evening busying herself with packing for the next days’ training, making the absolute most of you finally being somewhat content for a brief moment - finding much joy in scribbling in your colouring pad, and also trying to distract her mind from spiralling ever so slightly.

she was incredibly worried about you, but alongside that was just simply exhausted. you hadn’t slept properly the entire time you’d been stuck in this hotel, and if you had it was flat on top of her (almost directly on her face, making it impossible for her to rest even for a second)

and when you were awake you were miserable, crying or throwing a fit over things you never usually did - like her putting socks on you, or even just looking at you ‘in the wrong way.’

above all else, she missed caitlin, more than anything. arguably even more than you - it just wasn’t socially acceptable for a twenty nine year old woman to kick and scream over not wanting to put a shirt on because of how much she did.

she struggled with long distance usually anyway, being a major home body - and you were typically her distraction, though right now you were quite the opposite.

and as much as the facetime calls helped you both, hanging up just brought her back to reality, and made her feel even sadder than before.

a sharp knock at the door broke her from her train of sorrows thoughts, standing to answer it with a sigh, assuming it would be a teammate wanting to talk over tactics, or even better, some kind of god coming to save the day.

turns out, she wasn’t too far from right.

“here sweetheart, i’ll be right back, kay?” she murmured softly, ruffling your hair and wrapping you in a blanket, figuring that you should probably be covered than more than just a nappy in front of whatever unsuspecting visitor was on the other side of the door.

when she opened it however, she realised that she was in fact the unsuspecting one, freezing in shock.

“what the fu- cait?” she gasped, her eyes widening.

“surprise?” the australian grinned in response, suitcase stood next to her. “spoke to the staff and managed to sort things out so i could catch the next flight to you. they can do without me for some friendlies” she shrugged, chuckling softly as she’s pulled into her girlfriend’s arms.

“you, caitlin foord, are unbelievable” katie breathed in pure relief, her body physically relaxing, almost slumping into her hold.

“now, where’s my little monster then?” caitlin broke the moment of silence, peeking over the brunette’s shoulder.

katie stepped aside in response, chuckling in disbelief, gesturing inside and in the direction of the bed. “go see for yourself.”

you were so invested in your colouring, and being grumpy - your back facing the door, that you didn’t notice her entering.

“hey pudding” she spoke, so softly it was almost a whisper, but your head snapped up as if she had shouted.

“mumma”

caitlin opened her arms just in enough time for you to launch yourself off the bed and into them, with an alarming amount of strength for a toddler. you clung to her like a koala, burying your face in her neck and letting out a string of happy squeals and babbles - being by far the happiest katie had seen you in days.

“you came back!” you said, voice muffled against her shoulder - your speech still being at the stage where it was just about understandable, but your two mothers understanding you perfectly every time.

“of course i did silly girl” she tickled you, kissing the top of your head softly. “i missed you, my baby”

katie leaned against the wall, still by the door, watching the two of you, her girls, with a loving smile, the weight she’d been carrying for days finally beginning to lift.

the night drew in with the three of you curled up in the duvet of the hotel bed that had been the centre of all the weeks chaos - you nestled snugly in between your parents, having crashed out almost immediately after the initial excitement wore off.

katie and caitlin exchanged a look over your head, a silent agreement that nothing - no crazy schedules, no distance, would ever keep their little family apart like that for too long, ever again.

-

i have indeed not proof read this as i just got back from work and promised you all an update….enjoy

[hellincarnation]

A Possible Theory on Why Some Fandoms Are More Popular And Long Lasting Than Others

So i was thinking the other day, why the hell are some book/movie/game/etc fandoms lasting for 50+ years and others die in a year?

I was comparing some of my favourite fandoms, the Percy Jackson fandom and the Harry Potter fandom and what I noticed and discovered is to make a good fan base, you HAVE to create a good organisation in your story/game/movie/book etc.

What do I mean?

In Percy Jackson for example, we have our main character’s home base. Camp Half Blood. It’s developed in the background throughout the whole series, there is a companion book on the Camp itself, and the whole area is relatively fleshed out and utilised throughout the whole series. It’s described in detail, there are official maps released, people love the camp.

In Harry Potter, we have, of course, Hogwarts. It’s by far more developed than Camp Half Blood, with detailed classes, architecture, art, story, lore, founders. And our main characters spend majority of their time in the building itself. Hell, even the villains of the story used to attend Hogwarts

Why does this matter? Why does world building matter?

Aha. Here’s my hook. Fandoms stay alive as long as fans stay connected to the community. And how else to develop the strongest connection possible than fans being able to build their own original characters or ocs and imagine they’re in the story?

Human imagination is a powerful thing, as soon as they have a world (Hogwarts and Camp Half blood) to build off of, they can create their own characters and imagine more stories building off the Canon to keep their love for the universe alive.

This is why role play communities are so popular, in addition to having your original character and developing a story for them, having a community to showcase and use your character greatly increases your attachment to this community.

Once you make your fans feel like they are part of your world, it’s the strongest connection. Because by default, humans are selfish, they feel more close to something if it’s like they have involvement in it.

Characters VS World Building.

It’s the age old question, what’s more important?

Neither.

No one is more important than the other, it’s just a matter of what you’re trying to accomplish.

With focusing on world building, you almost confirmed yourself a space for your fans to imagine themselves in. And you can have a lot of fun with world building! Creating your own original words, terms and concepts. Your own take on real world events and items and applying it to your story.

However you can’t focus on both so your characters might need to be limit to 2-3 main ones, to balance out your complex and intricate world.

With focusing on characters, you build yourself loyalty based on attachment to characters. This may not yield as much original characters/fan led creation as focusing on world building, but the perks are your characters explode into main stream. Art will be drawn of them, fanfictions will be written about them, headcanons, adaptations etc. By pouring effort into your characters, you create deep and meaningful bonds with specific characters that people will remember.

Maybe 10 years down the line, your fans may not remember everything about the story, or the environment or the world you created, but they will look back one day and go “Good lord, that was an AMAZING character that I still love to this day.” And that’s amazing for you.

This is exactly the case with Harry Potter and Percy Jackson. In my opinion, Hogwarts is wildly more developed than Camp Half Blood for obvious reasons. Hogwarts is a school and CHB is a homebase. Most of the time PJO characters are on quests away form their home base but HP characters are almost always in Hogwarts.

So how do you world build?

1. Of course create your organisation, base it off maybe a real life historical organisation with your own twist.

2. Build a rich and complex backstory, with specific historical figures that contributed to the creation of your organisation.

3. Build ROLES. Build divisions and department in your organisation. Think houses in Hogwarts and cabins in Camp Half Blood. Build specific roles your fans can imagine themselves as. Prefect, Head Girl/Boy, Head Counsellor.

4. Describe describe describe. You have all this amazing lore in your arsenal, now weave and intertwine your characters with them. Make your characters attached to the organisation and want to protect it. Mix your plot and story with it, make it so your organisation MATTERS to the story.

TL;DR

World building is hella important.

Heyyy, this isn’t proofread. Reblog or like if you enjoyed it. Or don’t.

Tags: ask to be added or removed

@lovely-rants-alot @shinchansbitch @jeahreading @totally-not-castor @unhinged-as-hell @sunshinerainbowsandlollipops @zeherili-ankhein @cafffeineconnoisseur @schrodinger-ka-billa @mireyaaaaaaaaa @your-dazzling-sun @daonedaonlyskh @iamgayforyourmom1510 @the-lying-heavens @abyssmita @mentallyunstablequeen101 @debacleofdaemons

[scumsketches]

I've read like all 4 docs on ao3 about SY and SJ sharing a body, and I'm soooo not normal about this concept oh my God. So, it's time to ramble about my take on the concept, of course.

Most things I have read have SY transmigrate at his usual date, but... What if he didn't? What if he transmigrated when SJ was a child on the streets?

For the purposes of this, the person who has the most control of the body is based around soul strength, willpower, and collaboration between souls.

In the beginning, SY has very low soul strength, since he just straight up died, but being a child, SJ's is not much better. They both have obscene amounts of willpower, see canon. And at the beginning? Oh, SJ does NOT want to collaborate.

SY hasn't really gotten the whole "baby scum villain" thing yet, and thinks his soul has been glued to a particularly annoying street kid, so he tries to be patient with SJ, but it's not easy! Holy shit, this kid is a turbo brat who hates him! He is constantly threatening to exorcize SY! Like, kid, you can't exorcize me, you're eight. But SY does end up being useful at times, pointing out danger, reading signs that SJ can't, using his adult knowledge to help him as best he can. By the time they get to the Qiu manor, SJ grudgingly trusts and is maybe attached to his weird ghost hanger-on.

And then the Qiu manor hits. It's... Bad. Really bad. Qi-Ge is gone, hopefully to come back to them someday, but someday is not now, and they need to survive the day. Shen Yuan can't get over the fact that this is just a kid, that all of this is happening to a child. He is an adult, maybe he's not the most responsible adult, or the best person to handle this situation, but damn it SY has to do something.

The first time Shen Yuan takes over completely, it's during a beating in the first week. Before, even if SY had some control of the body, SJ was usually able to yank it back at least partially when he wanted to. He was aware of what was going on. But this time, Shen Jiu feels the first few strikes hit his back before Shen Yuan bubbles up, wrapping around him and pulling him down into blissful oblivion.

When Shen Jiu wakes up, it's over, and Shen Yuan is using some meager supplies he got from god knows where to tend to their wounds. Shen Jiu is scared, he didn't know Shen Yuan could take over that completely, but he's also... Relieved. And confused.

"Why did you take over then? If you really could steal my body, why didn't you do it earlier?"

"You didn't deserve that, Shen Jiu. I- how could I see that and not try and help? Not try and protect you?"

Shen Jiu froze. And then, slowly, started crying. Almost immediately SY starts fussing, asking if their wounds hurt too badly, if he needs him to dull the pain more. SJ sniffles, wiping his eyes, and asks; "More?"

Shen Yuan never explains that, but as SJ goes through the Qiu manor, he realizes that he is absolutely not in as much pain as he really should be. It's easier to bear when the pain is shared between the two of them.

The first time that Qiu Jianluo realizes something is off is during one of his lessons. As the brush is placed in Shen Jiu's hands, the angry, venomous child behind a mask of fear fades away, and he is instead facing calm indifference. The characters are perfect, every one of them, even the ones which there is no possible way Shen Jiu should have been able to know.

This pattern continues. Shen Jiu knows things he shouldn't. He is abnormally good at talking circles around guards and other servants, confusing and manipulating them enough to evade Qiu Jianluos summons in ways that couldn't possibly be his fault, orchestrating many of their confrontations with Qiu Haitang around as protection.

Shen Jiu is a good actor, he's smart, he's quick, but he isn't a fully grown adult master poser like our Shen Yuan is. Shen Yuan, number one rules lawyer and actor, is incredibly good at driving Qiu Jianluo up the wall without him being able to retaliate, and when he does manage to get in a beating, SJ/SY is not nearly as responsive to the pain as he should be, and heals faster than he should.

This is because the lovely new flowers that Qiu Haitang has planted in the garden at SJs kind suggestion are a PIDW plant that provides accelerated healing.

Eventually, it's too much, and Qiu Jianluo KNOWS something is up. He calls a rogue cultivator by the name of Wu Yanzi in to investigate the problem, and Wu Yanzi finds, and exorcises it. Shen Jiu is terrified and panicked, and Wu Yanzi, who had seen Shen Jiu's high spiritual potential, places Shen Yuan into a spirit trapping pouch and tells Shen Jiu to burn the Qiu manor to the ground and bring him as much money and jewelry as possible if he wants his little ghost back.

So the Qiu Manor burns, and Shen Jiu joins Wu Yanzi, significantly less willingly this time. Qi-Ge is nowhere to be seen, and Shen Yuan isn't there to save him anymore.

Shen Jiu supposes he will have to save himself.

[staybabblingbaby]

Best Friend Protocol #14 (Team Meeting part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible.Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Word Count: 2672

Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! ALL HAIL THE LEGENDARY FIRST WRITTEN PART OF BFP! I meant to have this out over a week ago, but it's here now! I will be attempting to get a regular chapter out here shortly to fulfil my promised 4 november chapters. Wish me luck! Huge shout out to one of my beautiful beloved betas, @brbwritingfanfic for taking the time to make sense of this damn thing lmao. I appreciate you spotting all my errors, you a real one <3 For those familiar with my archive style and curious, this is A3D2 for this chapter. It was kicking my ASS. If enough folks are interested I don't mind releasing the other attempts, but BFP is a bit divorced from the usual archive proceedings, so I'll leave that up to y'all. I actually really loved how Felix's character came through here, and i'm pretty pleased with how the dialogue turned out. My poor fiance had to sit through like 5 separate rants about how i could not roll back the details enough and kept having to scrap dialogue so it sounded less like AI attempting classical literature.

Warnings: She/Her Reader. Sort of? Polyamory negotiations. More like, the possibility is tossed out there.

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks

Additional Note: I'm always taking interaction requests. Just fyi

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part (coming soon!)

The meeting goes something like this;

They pile into the living room of his and Seungmin’s shiny new dorm without discussion. It makes Felix both nervous and grateful. They’ve always had these meetings wherever Chris happened to be, before. It feels like an unspoken declaration of allegiance. Like they’re letting Felix take the lead, here.

The pressure is kind of getting to him already, as they all settle in. He doesn’t even know how he feels about it all himself, making a decision doesn’t seem like something he should be in charge of right now.

Still, he’s grateful. They’re being so mindful of him in this, and he kind of wants to cry about it. He feels seen, and loved. A bit too seen, maybe, but as embarrassing as it is he’s still a bit gooey inside about it.

Felix drags a beanbag over to where Hyunjin has settled on the couch, plopping down to lean against the other man’s legs. A hand automatically goes to bury itself in his hair, like an anchor against Felix’s stormy thoughts.

The grounding warmth of one of his best friends soothes Felix as Chris calls the meeting to order. ��

“So!” Their leader casts an inquiring gaze around the room, “Who wants to start? Where are we at right now?”

A few glances are cast Felix’s way, but he tips his head back against Hyunjin’s knees to avoid their eyes. Everyone must get the message, because no one prompts him.

Jisung is the one who eventually bites the bullet, and Felix sends a silent ‘thank you’ to his birthday buddy.

“Well, I’d like to clarify everyone’s, like, goal in this?” Jisung puts forward tentatively, “Because I’m at the point where it’s more of a ‘I’d like to get to know her’ thing than a ‘I want to date her’ thing.” he shrugs to himself, “I haven’t talked to her much yet, I just think she’s cool.”

“I’m a little bit smitten,” Changbin admits from across the room. He gives Felix an apologetic grimace, but all Felix can do is wave him off with a worried smile. 

“We talked for quite a while the other day and, I dunno... We clicked? I guess? I feel like we did, anyway. I kind of want to see where that could go if we let it.” 

Changbin sends an almost appealing look to Felix as he speaks, and honestly? Super awkward for Felix right now.

Because, see, Felix’s first instinct is to get super defensive and shut everything down. He doesn’t really want to be talking about this, and it scratches at something delicate and boyish in him that they’re having this discussion at all.

It’s embarrassing to know that the feelings he’s kept so close to his chest for so many years are out in the open. It feels a bit like a betrayal that this meeting is about the fact that most of his friends have feelings for the girl he’s had a crush on basically his whole life, instead of planning how to get him to stop being stupid about said crush.

It’s just... Uncomfortable. On so many levels. An ugly monster wants to tear out of Felix’s throat as he locks eyes with Changbin, but a light scratch at his scalp from Hyunjin stalls the beast.

Right. Felix reminds himself that these aren’t any old friends. These aren’t just some acquaintances he could burn bridges with, or strange men he had to protect his angel from.

No, these were his brothers, the people he’d shed blood, sweat, and tears with. The men he’d lived with, grown with, the guys who’d seen more of him than any other person in the world.

Felix finds it in himself to spare Changbin a strained smile. He means it to be reassuring, but he’s so tangled up in his thoughts right now that it’s the best he can offer. The older man seems grateful for it anyway.

He turns his gaze up to Hyunjin, the catalyst of all this, and Felix’s current rock in the storm. He tries to keep in mind how much he loves these people as he moves the conversation forward.

He has to hear them out, at least.

“Thoughts, Hyun?” Felix gently inquires. 

Hyunjin briefly presses his lips together, gathering his thoughts into words. 

“I’ve been pretty open in my flirtation from the start, I think.” he finally says, “So I guess I’m more surprised that anyone else is? Surprised, I mean.”

Felix has to hand him that one. For all that his ‘no flirting’ rule had been mostly a joke, it did mean that he’d expected them to flirt with her. 

He wonders what makes things different now? He’d been okay with the flirting when he’d thought everyone was just joking around, has anything really changed now that he knows it’s real?

Felix sits with that thought while Minho throws his two cents in.

“I don’t think surprised is the right word,” their second eldest ponders aloud, “I’m personally more... worried about how this might work out.” He draws the words out slowly, like he’s tasting the flavor of them before he speaks.

It’s off-putting to hear Minho speak so cautiously- he’s usually so blunt with his words. 

“I’m more worried about how this will affect us as a group,” Minho admits, “I mean, I like her, she’s fun, but I don’t want her if it’s going to cause issues among us.”

And the older man has a point. Anything that causes discord in a group like theirs is a disaster waiting to happen. Especially something like this, where a misstep could lead to long-term resentments and jealousies.

Felix feels pressured by the group’s regard for him all over again. One word from him, and he knows it all ends. The moment he says he can’t handle this is the moment that the rest back off. The emotions won’t fade, Felix knows, but they’d do it anyways.

Because they love him.

He loves them right back.

“I really like her,” Seungmin pipes in, face blank. His eyes cast toward the floor for a moment, before rising again to meet Felix’s. “I really like her,” He repeats, “I don’t know that I would be okay with letting go without trying.”

Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods at the younger man. His head tips toward his lap while he thinks, brow furrowing as he loses himself to his tumultuous thoughts.

It helps to hear everyone’s feelings put so bluntly, Felix thinks. Having everyone’s stances laid out clearly like a map in his mind’s eye. 

Han, who’s not invested but interested anyways.

Changbin, who’s probably in deeper than he’d really like to be.

Hyunjin, who’d been open about his intentions from the start.

Minho, who the fact that he’s even considering her means more than Felix thinks the man realizes. And yet, he’d give her up at the first seed of discord among the group.

It’s kind of heartwarming, when Felix thinks about how much love their second eldest had shown them with those words. 

Finally, there’s Seungmin. A man whose compliments are hard earned, and whose feelings are closely guarded. A man who’d just handed Felix his heart on a silver platter, trust and love etched in every word, spoken and not.

Felix’s first instinct is still to shut them down. His clouded heart tells him to scoop up his angel and hide her away like a dragon with its hoard. To claim her as his and his alone, and feel slighted if anyone tried to contest that.

But that’s not fair. Not to his members and not to her. Not even to himself.

They’d shown him respect and care every step of the way, the least he could do is give them more than a knee-jerk reaction.

“Is it really all that complicated?” Jeongin ponders aloud.

Their maknae looks almost bored from his armchair, staring at them all. His furrowed brow gives away his worry, as does the way he allows Chris to pull him into the elder’s side with an arm around his shoulders.

“I mean, it’s up to her in the end, isn’t it?” their youngest continues, “she’s the only one that can really make a final call.”

“Could we handle that?” Felix finally speaks up. It’s a little scary having everyone’s attention snap to him like that, but this is the crux of the matter, he thinks.

“If she chooses one of us, could we handle that?” he elaborates.

A contemplative silence descends over the room. Felix kind of wishes he could peek into the member’s brains at this moment. He wants to know if they’re as worried as he is, if they’re worried about the same things he is. 

Because, quite honestly, the more he thinks about it the less he really minds if they flirt with his angel.

It’s taken him this long to untangle the ugly knot of emotions in his chest, and he still can’t see all of it for what it is, but the core of it all, he thinks, is fear.

He’s afraid that, at the end of it all, he’ll be left behind. That he’ll lose two of his very best friends, his favorite people in the world, to each other.

He doesn’t think he could handle that.

It’s an unjustified fear, Felix knows. His bonds with all of these people, the seven present in the room with him and one halfway across the world, are stronger than anything. Forged in fire and elastic with time, he’s sure there’s nothing that could ever truly break them.

That doesn’t stop anxiety from creeping up his spine.

Felix lets his eyes wander around the room, landing on each of his members in turn. It’s like something in him believes that they could guide him in this, just by looking at them, the way his gaze lands heavily on each of their forms.

Hyunjin’s hand drops from his head to knead at the base of his neck, and Felix feels himself soften. A little bit of the anxiety drains from him at the comforting touch, and with it gone he can see something new under the miasma of fear and uncertainty.

It’s bright, like hope, and a bit more exciting. A giddy little thought bubbles up with it-

“What if she chose more than one of us?” Han beats him to the punch. His eyes flick between them all anxiously, looking very much like the rodent he’s nicknamed for, and when he’s met with six confused stares and Felix’s suppressed grin, he starts to babble.

“I- I mean, we’ve all shared partners before. Like, sexually, at least. I just- I mean- We’re not strangers to sharing, is all I’m tryna say!” Han explains himself.

His shoulders rise up to cherry-red ears under the weight of their stares. Minho places a calming hand on his thigh, even as he pokes holes in the other man’s claim.

“We’ve never shared romantic partners though,” He points out, annoyingly reasonable, “That’s a completely different thing.” 

“I’d be willing to give it a shot,” Hyunjin shrugs when all eyes turn to him.

He was, admittedly, the last of them Felix had expected to back the idea. Hyunjin was the most romantic of them all, and the least likely to indulge one of them in sharing a partner or two.

“I love you guys, and I really like her,” Hyunjin states plainly, “I don’t see an issue with it.”

“So.. what? We try for, like, a.. polycule kinda thing if she wants?” Changbin questions. He scrunches up his face in concern at the concept, pointing out, “That feels a little unbalanced, doesn't it? Is it fair to hinge the whole thing on her?”

“It's going to hinge on her whether it's fair or not,” Jeongin interjects, “You all have crushes on her, not on eachother.”

“I just don’t know how comfortable I can be with that,” Changbin explains, “There’s one of her, and currently six of us. I don’t think it’s humanly possible for her to split her time enough for all of us, and it’s really unfair of us to expect it of her.”

“It could be a good thing, though,” Han argues, “None of us have the time to dedicate to a relationship how we should. Having more than one of us to turn to could be a good thing.”

“Okay, but you’re all forgetting something very important in this hypothetical,” Jeongin stresses the word, making pointed eye contact with his hyungs, “situation. She has to agree to it too. We can’t make a decision without her.”

Felix can't help but be proud of their youngest for reminding them of y/n’s place in all this. It’s not like they’d forgotten, but it was a good reminder anyway. It did feel a bit icky to be talking about their relationship with her like it was a foregone conclusion.

“I’m just saying!” Han proclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “It’s a possibility that we should be open to if it happens!”

Finally, Chris loudly claps to get everyone's attention and forestall any oncoming argument.

“Oh-kay!” he enthuses, “Let’s refocus. Show of hands, are we okay with everyone flirting with her if they want to?”

All hands go up, none of them opposed to anyone else shooting their shot. Felix pretends like all eyes aren’t on him as he easily raises his arm.

“Alright, next” Chris pushes on, “Do we think we can handle it if she chooses one of us?”

Hesitant murmurs sound around the room at this, but Felix has come to an understanding with himself during this meeting, so he speaks confidently when he says, “I think we’ll be okay.”

His words seem to reassure the others, and a ripple of agreement and gentle ribbing starts circling the room.

“Alright,” Chris nods to himself, interrupting the wave before they could get started with any mischief. He really does know them too well.

“And finally,” he starts, an indecipherable expression crossing his face, “show of hands, who’s alright with the poly thing if it comes to it?”

This subject is more divisive, Han, Hyujin, and Felix’s hands going up, but Minho and Changbin stay quiet with worried faces. Seungmin holds his arm out in front of him with his thumb held out sideways. When questioned, he just says he’s not sure how he feels about it yet.

“We’ll circle back on that later, then.” Chris decides, “I think that’s one of those things we need to be unanimous on.”

Agreements sound out, and the atmosphere relaxes. The evening quickly devolves into an impromptu game night, the group quickly descending upon Felix’s console games like a pack of hyenas.

Felix gets up to switch the TV over to his switch, intentions of strong-arming everyone into playing Mario Party in mind. Chris grabs him by the elbow as he walks by, nodding over to the kitchen. Felix follows him over, already unbearably fond. 

“You sure you're good?” Chris asks lowly, “You've been her friend the longest, and we quite literally thought you were dating her already for a while there. They'll back off if you ask, you know.” 

Felix nods, smiling softly at their leader’s care. “I'm good I promise.” he swears, “I meant it when I said I liked it when my favorite people get along.”

He turns to look through the doorway back at the living room. Despite the strange and personal nature of their conversation, jokes and laughter flow easily now. As if there was never any tension at all. 

Felix can feel himself practically melt as he looks at them, a sentiment he knows their leader shares.

“It would hurt,” Felix admits, “If she chose someone else. But there’s no one I’d trust to hurt me more, y’know?”

Chris doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. He squeezes Felix’s elbow gently as the younger dives back into the chaos, and Felix knows he’s been understood.

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[delulustateofmind]

Long Distance III - Don't Go

Sometimes you just can't say goodbye

Gojo x Reader

Blurb, Part One, Part Two, Part Three

CW: ANGST/FLUFF- I've been too kind on the last few with the fluff. Satoru crying, switching to Japanese and English.

WC: 7.7k (Holy...shit I think this might be up there with my longest)

A/n: I did do less Japanese this time to kind of showcase that his English is getting more confident. I don't know if there is going to be another part or not. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them! (I might do an epilogue, who knows)

You sat on Satoru’s couch, listening as he paced back and forth across the sleek living room, his voice sharp as he spoke in rapid-fire Japanese on the phone. His frustration was palpable, each clipped word bouncing off the spacious walls of the penthouse.

Your gaze drifted over the room for what felt like the tenth time since you’d arrived. A penthouse in Shibuya. A penthouse. You didn’t know much about professor salaries, but the last time you checked, astrophysics didn’t exactly pay this well.

Satoru ran a hand through his already-messy white hair, ruffling it further until it stuck up in every direction. He cast you an apologetic glance, his blue eyes still managing to sparkle despite his irritation. Your lips twitched into a shy smile as your eyes flicked to your luggage sitting near the door.

Apparently, the hotel had overbooked and lost your reservation. And now, here you were—in Satoru’s impossibly fancy apartment.

You sighed softly, turning toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed a breathtaking view of Tokyo’s skyline. The sun was just beginning to set, the city’s dazzling lights coming alive in the distance.

Behind you, Satoru muttered something under his breath in Japanese, and then you heard the couch creak as he flopped down beside you.

One thing you’d learned in Chicago was that Satoru had no concept of personal space. Before you could so much as glance at him, he leaned his head against your shoulder, his silver hair brushing lightly against your neck.

“Smells nice,” he murmured, the words half in Japanese, half in English. Then, just as quickly, he sat up, burying his face in his hands with a groan.

“This was supposed to be perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. “I can always stay at a hotel nearby,” you offered hesitantly, “or maybe one of those capsule hotels?”

That earned you a sharp look from Satoru, his lips tugging into a pout that was as dramatic as it was annoyed.

“Not safe, Y/N,” he said with a slight whine, his English faltering as he pointed at you for emphasis. “You stay here. My place is better. Safe.”

His tone was final, like there was no room for argument, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly at his overprotective streak. “Okay, okay. No capsule hotels.”

“Good,” he said, leaning back against the couch with a heavy sigh, his eyes flicking to yours with a faint grin. “You’ll like it here. My place… very comfortable.”

As the tension in the room began to ease, you found yourself smiling, the surreal absurdity of the situation starting to settle in.

Satoru sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair as he sat back against the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His pout deepened, and he glanced sideways at you, his brows furrowed in thought.

“でも、本当に大丈夫？(But, is this really okay?)” he asked, his tone quieter than usual. “I mean… you, here, with me?”

You tilted your head at him, confused. “Why wouldn’t it be? You’re my friend, Satoru. And it’s not like I had anywhere else to go tonight.”

His lips twitched, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes remained serious. “Friend, huh?” he muttered under his breath in Japanese before switching to English. “But… I’m still a man, you know. 男だし。(I am still a man.)”

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden admission. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. “Ah…何て言え���いいか分からない…(I don’t know how to say it…),” he mumbled, his voice muffled. Then he peeked up at you, his blue eyes uncharacteristically hesitant. “You… staying here. It’s… how to say… difficult? For me?”

You frowned, your heart starting to race. “Difficult? Why?”

He hesitated for a moment before sighing dramatically and flopping backward against the couch again. “Because you’re… you,” he said, switching to Japanese for the last part. “君が…君だから。”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked again, your voice more flustered this time.

“It means,” he said, pausing to search for the right words, “that I… ああもう! (Ah, forget it!)” He waved his hand in frustration and sat up straight, his expression more serious now.

“Look,” he continued in a mix of English and Japanese. “I… care about you, okay? Like, a lot. More than… ah…普通の友達。(Just a normal friend.) So, having you here, in my home, so close…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair again as his ears turned pink. “It’s hard.”

Your breath caught, his words sinking in slower than they should have. “Satoru…”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, waving you off. “I’m being weird, right? Strange? What’s the word? Uh… creepy?”

“You’re not creepy,” you said softly, your voice steadier now despite your racing heart.

He glanced at you, his eyes wide with surprise. “Really?”

“Really,” you assured him, though your cheeks burned. “I mean, I get it… kind of. But you don’t have to worry. I trust you.”

Satoru blinked at you, and for a moment, his usual teasing grin faltered. His gaze softened, his lips parting like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Finally, he let out a long sigh, leaning his head back against the couch as a small, wry smile tugged at his mouth.

“You’re too trusting,” he muttered, his voice low. Then, in Japanese, he added, “君が思ってるよりもっと。俺がどれだけ君に落ちてるか分からないでしょう。(More than you think. You have no idea how hard I’ve fallen for you.)”

“What was that?” you asked, catching his tone but not the meaning.

“Nothing!” he said quickly, straightening up and forcing a grin. “Just saying… you’re stubborn.”

“Look who’s talking,” you shot back, though your heart was still pounding.

He laughed, the sound a little too loud to be natural, and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. You stay. But—” He turned to face you, his expression more serious again. “If it gets… too much, you tell me, okay? I’ll sleep somewhere else. I don’t want to…” He trailed off, searching for the words again. “What’s the word? Cross line? Break… uh… rules?”

“I’ll tell you,” you promised, smiling despite your nerves. “But you’re overthinking this, Satoru. It’s just one night.”

He nodded, though the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed his lingering awkwardness. “Right. One night. Just… one.”

As the night wore on, you tried to push the conversation out of your mind, but Satoru’s words—and the way he’d looked at you—kept replaying in your head.

When it was finally time to settle in for the night, he stood in the hallway, awkwardly gesturing toward the guest room. “Bed’s there. You sleep. I, uh…” He scratched his neck, his gaze flicking anywhere but at you. “I stay here. Couch is fine. Perfectly fine.”

“You’re really not going to sleep in your own bed?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he said, his grin returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” you repeated, laughing softly.

“For me,” he muttered under his breath, switching back to Japanese.

You stared at him for a moment, the pieces slowly clicking into place. Your chest tightened, and you quickly looked away, not trusting yourself to say anything without your voice giving you away.

“Goodnight, Satoru,” you said finally, your voice softer than usual.

“おやすみ、Y/N,” he replied, his tone equally quiet.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but lean against it for a moment, your heart racing as his words echoed in your mind.

I care about you, okay? Like, a lot.

Little did you know, Satoru was still standing on the other side of the door, running a hand through his hair as he muttered to himself in Japanese.

“バカだな、俺。(I’m such an idiot.)”

The smell of coffee lingered in the air as sunlight streamed through the massive windows of Satoru’s apartment. You had just finished your shower, wrapping yourself tightly in one of the fluffy white towels he’d lent you. Your hair was still dripping slightly as you stepped out of the bathroom, hoping to make a quick dash to the guest room before running into anyone.

Of course, luck wasn’t on your side.

The door to the apartment swung open just as you stepped into the hallway, and Satoru walked in, a gym bag slung over one shoulder. His hair was damp with sweat, his cheeks slightly flushed, and his fitted workout shirt clung to him in a way that made you immediately regret leaving the safety of the bathroom.

He froze mid-step when he saw you, his pale blue eyes widening as they flickered from your face to the towel wrapped around you.

“Oh,” he said, switching to Japanese instinctively. “あの…(Um…)”

You stood there, rooted in place, your face growing impossibly warm. “Sorry! I didn’t think you’d be back so soon!”

“I—I didn’t think you’d—uh…” His English faltered as he struggled to piece together a sentence. “I came back early. Gym close… uh, towel! You…” His hand shot up to cover his eyes, though the way his fingers splayed slightly made it less than effective. “ごめん! ごめん! (Sorry! Sorry!)”

You clutched the towel tighter, trying to will the heat away from your face. “It’s fine! I’m going to my room!”

He took a step back, nearly tripping over his own feet as he tried to give you space. “Right! Yes. Room. Good idea!” He turned his head, his voice dropping to a mutter in Japanese. “落ち着け、五条悟。(Calm down, Gojo Satoru.)”

You dashed into the guest room, shutting the door behind you with a quiet groan. Great. Just great. That wasn’t awkward at all.

By the time you emerged, fully dressed and slightly less mortified, Satoru was in the kitchen, his hair damp from what you assumed was a lightning-quick shower of his own. He was pouring coffee into two mugs, his movements unusually quiet.

“Good morning,” you said cautiously, your face still a little warm.

“Morning!” he said, his usual grin plastered across his face, though the faint pink on his ears betrayed his earlier embarrassment. “Coffee? I made some. Very good. You’ll love it.”

“Thanks,” you said, sliding onto one of the barstools.

He placed a mug in front of you, leaning on the counter as he watched you take a sip. “Better now?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You glanced at him, confused. “Better?”

“You looked…” He hesitated, searching for the right word in English. “Uh… embarrassed? Before?”

Your cheeks heated again, and you quickly looked away. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Me too,” he said with a laugh, though his tone was tinged with nervousness. He switched to Japanese, his words coming more easily. “でも、正直言って…少しドキドキした。(Honestly… it made my heart race a little.)”

You choked on your coffee, your eyes snapping to his as he grinned sheepishly. “What?”

“Nothing!” he said quickly, waving his hands in front of him like he could physically erase what he’d said. “Forget it! Stupid joke! Bad English!”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your heart pounding as you tried to figure out if he was serious or if his words had just slipped out in the heat of the moment. Either way, your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t quite meet his gaze for more than a few seconds.

“So!” he said, clapping his hands together in a sudden burst of energy, his voice a little too loud. “Today, we go to bunch of places! We eat breakfast at my favorite cafe… and then we walk. A lot. I show you the university I work at! Very impressive.”

“The university?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course!” he said, leaning forward on the counter, his blue eyes sparkling again as he regained his usual confidence. “You see my office. Very cool. Best professor office in the whole building. And I give you tour!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “You’re really proud of your office, huh?”

“Not just the office,” he said, tilting his head with a teasing grin. “The whole thing. Students love me. I’m very popular, you know.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling all the same.

“Good!” he said, standing up straight and grabbing his phone. “Now, we go eat. I pick best breakfast spot. Trust me, you’ll love it. But… you ready?”

“Almost,” you said, glancing down at your still-damp hair. “I should probably finish drying this.”

He gestured toward you with a dramatic flourish, his grin wide. “Take your time! I wait. Very patient.”

Patient? Yeah, right. You shook your head as you disappeared back into the bathroom to finish drying your hair. Satoru wasn’t exactly the patient type—not with his energy or how often he seemed to invade your personal space without a second thought.

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like him—charming, funny, and total boyfriend material—was even single.

When you finally emerged, he was already at the door, holding it open for you like a perfect gentleman. Or at least, that’s what you thought until he casually reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“You hold my hand, okay?” he said, his tone almost offhand as if it was no big deal. “Busy streets.”

You blinked down at your joined hands, your cheeks warming. “Uh… okay.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you swore you caught the faintest tinge of red at the tips of his ears as he turned away, leading you toward the elevator. His grip was firm but careful, and he didn’t let go even as you stepped out onto the busy streets of Shibuya.

The cafe he chose was tucked away from the bustling main streets, a cozy spot that smelled of fresh bread and coffee the moment you stepped inside.

“Mmm, everything here is good,” he said confidently, gesturing to the menu as you both sat down at a small table near the window. “Pancakes are best!”

You glanced at the menu, noticing immediately that there was no English. The pictures helped, but you hesitated, your Japanese still a work in progress.

“No English menu,” he added, tapping the table with a satisfied grin. “But you can ask me. Anything. I translate for you.”

“Why do you sound so proud of that?” you teased, earning a laugh from him as he leaned back in his chair.

“I am very helpful,” he said, his grin widening. Then, his phone buzzed, and his expression shifted slightly as he checked his emails.

You watched him for a moment, noting how serious he looked when his attention was on the screen. He wasn’t the carefree, teasing Satoru you’d grown used to seeing—here, he seemed… important.

“Are you just a professor?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you as you scanned the menu, trying to decipher the items from the pictures and your limited knowledge of Japanese.

“Hmm?” He glanced up at you, setting his phone down as he leaned forward. “Mmm, yes… and no.” He shrugged, his tone lighter now. “I’m supposed to take over my family business soon.”

You raised an eyebrow, setting the menu down. “Family business?”

He nodded, his grin softening slightly. “Big deal. Very annoying. Too much responsibility.”

“Then why do it?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. “Because it’s… important. To them.”

Something about the way he said it made your chest tighten, but before you could ask more, he added, almost as an afterthought, “Have to be married, though.”

That caught you off guard. “Married?”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, taking a sip of his coffee like it was no big deal. “Part of the deal. No marriage, no… inheritance, I guess.”

You blinked at him, your brain racing. “Wait, so you’re… looking for someone?”

His lips quirked into a small, mischievous smile as he leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly. “Why? You interested?”

Your face went red immediately. “I didn’t say that!”

He laughed, the sound light and teasing. “Relax! Joke, joke. You’re too cute when you get embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed!” you said quickly, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Sure, sure,” he said, still grinning as he leaned forward again. “But really, I don’t think about it much. Right now… I’m happy. Here. With you.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His blue eyes held yours, soft and warm, and you had to look away, focusing back on the menu to avoid the growing flutter in your chest.

“Pancakes,” you mumbled, your voice quieter now. “I’ll have the pancakes.”

Satoru chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “Good choice. See? I knew you’d trust me.”

As he called over the waiter to place your orders, you couldn’t help sneaking another glance at him, your mind swirling with thoughts of what he’d just said. Married. Satoru. How does that even fit together?

But the moment passed quickly, his easy smile and lighthearted jokes pulling you back into the present. And as you sipped your coffee, you found yourself thinking that maybe—just maybe—you didn’t mind being here with him a little longer.

The day passed in a blur of activity. True to his word, Satoru took you to his favorite places in Tokyo, showing you hidden gems you would never have found. From a tiny shrine tucked between buildings to a bustling street market filled with tempting food stalls, every stop felt more magical with him by your side.

At one point, he stopped to take a photo of you in front of a lantern-lined alley, insisting, “Memory! Very important!”

“You just want a new photo for your phone,” you teased as he held up his camera.

“Maybe,” he admitted, his grin wide. “But still cute, right?”

By the time the sun set, painting the city in hues of orange and pink, you were exhausted but happy. Satoru led you to a quiet park overlooking the skyline, where the two of you sat on a bench, sharing a bottle of water as the city lights began to twinkle below.

“You had fun today?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, glancing at him with a small smile. “Yeah. A lot of fun. Thanks, Satoru.”

“Good,” he said, leaning back and looking out at the view. His expression softened, and for a moment, he looked almost… shy. “I’m glad.”

And as the quiet stretched between you, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking the same thing you were—how this day felt like something out of a dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

As the day began to wind down, Satoru’s energy remained as...boundless as ever. Seriously, how does he do it?

“For the final stop,” he announced proudly, hands in his pockets as he led you through yet another bustling Tokyo street, “we go somewhere very special. My second home.”

“Second home?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He glanced back at you, his grin wide. “The university. You’ll see! I give you very special tour. Labs, classrooms, my office… very cool. You’ll be impressed.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling at his enthusiasm. “If you say so.”

The university campus was sprawling, with modern buildings mixed seamlessly with traditional Japanese architecture. Satoru walked you through it all, pointing out everything from his favorite vending machines to the quiet corners he claimed were the best for napping.

“This is where I teach,” he said as he led you into one of the classrooms. It was a sleek lecture hall, equipped with the latest technology. He hopped onto the desk at the front of the room, grinning down at you. “Pretty nice, huh?”

“You sit there like that when you’re teaching?” you teased, gesturing to his relaxed posture.

“Sometimes,” he said with a shrug. “The students love it. I make science fun.”

“Of course you do,” you said, laughing as you playfully pushed him off.

Next, he took you to the labs, which were pristine and filled with high-tech equipment that made your head spin.

“This is where the real magic happens,” he said, gesturing broadly as he explained what some of the equipment was used for. His voice grew more serious as he talked about his research, his passion evident in every word.

You found yourself staring at him, not just listening to what he was saying but also noticing how his eyes lit up when he spoke about his work. He wasn’t just charming or playful—he was brilliant.

Finally, he led you to his office.

“This,” he said dramatically, pushing open the door, “is my kingdom.”

The room was neat and organized, with shelves lined with books, journals, and small trinkets. A large window offered a stunning view of the campus, and his desk was adorned with a few personal touches—a photo of him with what you assumed were his colleagues- one of which he seemed rather close to a man with long dark hair, a small model of a rocket, and a mug with a sarcastic science joke printed on it.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the walls, where several framed awards and certificates were displayed.

“You weren’t kidding,” you said softly, stepping closer to get a better look. “You really are impressive.”

Satoru, who had been leaning against the doorframe with his usual grin, straightened slightly at your words. “You think so?” he asked, his voice unusually quiet.

You turned to him, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, look at this. Awards, degrees… You’ve done so much.”

He scratched the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Ah, it’s not a big deal. Just… work?”

“It is a big deal,” you insisted, smiling at him. “You’re really amazing, Satoru.”

He stared at you for a moment, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more vulnerable. “You really think that?”

“Of course,” you said, your voice sincere.

His grin returned, though it was softer now. “Well, I’m glad you think so. But…” He stepped closer, his blue eyes holding yours. He almost said something...but stopped tucking a hand into his pants pocket.

“Anyway!” he said suddenly, breaking the moment as he stepped back with a laugh, his ears tinged pink. “Enough about me. Let’s go! Dinner next! I show you another great spot.”

You blinked, the sudden shift leaving you momentarily dazed. “Uh… yeah. Sure.”

As you followed him out of the office, your thoughts raced. No matter how much he joked or teased, there was something unspoken between you—a warmth that lingered in the air, making every moment with him feel more significant than you wanted to admit.

“Actually… since I’m staying at your place for more than one night… why don’t I cook you dinner?”

Satoru froze mid-step, turning to look at you like you’d just suggested something outrageous. His usual grin faltered, his cheeks tinging pink as he muttered under his breath in Japanese, “ほんとに？(Really?)”

He nodded slowly, his expression softening into something almost shy. “You… cook for me? ありがとう。(Thank you.)”

The grocery store was a mix of playful banter and quiet touches.

Satoru’s hands lingered as the two of you walked through the aisles, occasionally brushing yours as he reached for items. Every now and then, he’d grab something off the shelf with an exaggerated flourish, holding it up as if it were a prize.

“This one,” he’d say in English, grinning like a kid. “Good choice, right?”

When it came time to pay, you insisted on covering the bill, refusing to let him even pull out his wallet.

“No way,” you said firmly, holding your ground.

“But I am host!” he whined, leaning his head against yours dramatically. “You can’t… uh, break tradition.”

“What tradition?” you teased, nudging him away.

“My tradition,” he muttered in Japanese, his tone half-serious. “君は頑固だね。(You’re stubborn.)”

Back at the apartment, the atmosphere shifted into something quieter, warmer.

The faint hum of your voice filled the kitchen as you worked, preparing one of your favorite comfort meals. Satoru sat at the dining table nearby, a stack of papers in front of him as he graded with a red pen. Occasionally, he’d glance up to watch you, his blue eyes soft as he listened to you hum.

At one point, without looking up from his papers, he spoke in Japanese, his tone low and thoughtful.

“君は僕の人生に光をもたらす。(You know, you bring so much light into my life.)”

You glanced at him briefly, thinking he was just talking to himself, and continued chopping vegetables.

He paused, his pen hovering over the paper, before continuing, his voice quieter now.

“僕は結婚しなければならないんだ。(I’m supposed to be getting married.)”

That made you stop. Your hands stilled as you turned to look at him, but his gaze remained fixed on the papers in front of him.

“Before you came here, before Chicago,” he continued, his voice steady but tinged with something deeper, “I went on one hundred and fifty-two dates.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you murmured, the word slipping out without thinking.

He looked up then, his eyes meeting yours. “People my family thought were… ‘worthy.’” He switched to English briefly, his tone flat. “Rich. Beautiful. Perfect. All fake.”

You didn’t know what to say, your mind racing as you tried to process his words.

“That night,” he said softly, his gaze distant now, “when you joined that server… I had just come back from another terrible date. Some woman only interested in money. Power.” He paused, his lips curving into a faint, humorless smile. “You see, in Japan, everybody knows who I am. But you… didn’t.”

His voice softened further, and he switched back to Japanese, the words carrying a raw honesty that made your chest ache.

“それが僕に特別な何かを感じさせた。(That made me feel… something special.)”

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the counter as you tried to steady yourself.

“When you texted me, ‘I paid the town rent! Welcome back!’” he said, switching seamlessly to English, his grin returning briefly. “It was stupid. Funny. But I needed that. Someone to play with. And then…” His voice dropped, almost a whisper. “I started to fall for you.”

Your breath caught, your heart pounding as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.

“I lied,” he admitted, his tone quiet and unsteady. “No conference in Chicago. I… I needed to see you. It was physically hurting me, wondering if I was falling for you or just… the idea of you.”

You stared at him, the words sinking in like stones.

“And now…” He gestured toward the room, his hand falling back to his lap as he looked at you with a raw, vulnerable expression. “This. You cooking. Me here. It feels so… domestic. Like it could be real.”

“Satoru,” you started, your voice trembling.

But he pressed on, his gaze locking onto yours, his next words spoken entirely in Japanese, each one cutting deeper than the last.

“僕は君に帰ってほしくない。(I don’t want you to go back.)” His voice cracked slightly as he added, “自分勝手になりたい。君を引き止めたい。(I want to be selfish. I want to keep you here.)”

Your chest felt tight, your breath shallow as Satoru’s words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. “僕にも夢があるんだよ。(Can’t you see? I have dreams too.)”

The faint sizzle of the stove was the only sound filling the room as you tried to steady your trembling hands, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. You turned back to the pan, desperate to focus on something tangible, something that wouldn’t pull you deeper into the whirlwind of emotions his words had stirred.

“I…” you began, your voice faltering, the weight of everything catching in your throat.

Suddenly, you heard the scrape of his chair as he stood, his movements quiet but deliberate. A warmth radiated behind you, the kind that sent a shiver down your spine before you felt it—his arms wrapping carefully around your waist, his chest pressing gently against your back.

You froze, your breath hitching as he nuzzled his face into the curve of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and the tension in the air seemed to thrum louder.

In Japanese, his voice came low and trembling, each word slipping out as if it pained him to speak.

“もし君に結婚を申し込んだら、答えてくれる？(If I asked you to marry me, would you?)”

Your pulse quickened, but he didn’t stop, his voice cracking slightly as he continued.

“君の人生を捨てて、ここに移ってくれる？(Would you give up your life and move here?)”

You felt his arms tighten ever so slightly around you, his vulnerability pressing against your heart like a weight.

“そんなにわがままを言ってもいい？(Can I be that selfish to ask that of you?)”

Even though your grasp of Japanese wasn’t perfect, the emotion in his words was unmistakable. You didn’t need to understand every word to feel the raw desperation behind them.

And then you felt it—soft, warm tears that brushed against your neck.

Your chest ached at the realization. Someone so confident, so effortlessly charming, was crumbling in your arms.

“Satoru…” you said softly, your voice as gentle as you could manage. You placed the spatula down, turning the stove off as you carefully rested your hands over his. “Are you…?”

His grip didn’t loosen, and he didn’t lift his head. Instead, he whispered, his voice trembling, “Just… let me stay like this. A little longer… yes?”

Your heart clenched, and you nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Okay,” you whispered.

For a while, the two of you stood there, enveloped in a quiet intimacy that felt far too fragile to break. His breathing slowed, and the tension in his arms softened, though he didn’t let go.

“I lied again,” he murmured finally, his voice still muffled against your shoulder.

“About what?” you asked, your own voice quiet, as if afraid to shatter the moment.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his blue eyes glassy with unshed tears. “When I said this was selfish… I meant it.” He hesitated, switching back to Japanese. “でも君に嘘をつくことはできない。(But I can’t lie to you.)”

His hands lingered at your waist as his lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. “I’m falling for you, Y/N. Actually… no. I already fell.”

Your breath caught, the words sinking in as your gaze held his.

“I thought I could just…” He trailed off, laughing weakly. “Keep it inside. Be cool. But I can’t. You make it impossible.”

You swallowed, your throat felt dry, unsure how to respond, your emotions swirling too fast to catch.

Satoru seemed to notice your hesitation, his hand brushing against your cheek gently. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said, his voice soft. “Not now. I just… needed to tell you.”

The air felt heavier as his words lingered between you. Finally, he stepped back, running a hand through his hair and forcing a grin. “Dinner smells good,” he said, his tone lighter now, though his eyes still held traces of vulnerability. “We eat, yeah? Before it burns?”

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat as you turned back to the stove, feeling the weight of his confession settle deep in your chest.

Dinner passed quietly, the usual playful banter replaced with soft glances and unspoken thoughts. Satoru tried his best to act normal, throwing in the occasional joke or complimenting your cooking, but you could feel the shift in the air—something had changed.

When the plates were cleared, and the kitchen was tidied, he lingered near the window, staring out at the city lights.

“You know,” he said suddenly, his voice carrying a faint smile. “I used to think I had everything. Money, success, whatever. But now… it feels empty without you.”

You froze, the vulnerability in his words once again taking you by surprise.

He turned to you, his blue eyes soft but steady. “I meant what I said earlier. About wanting you to stay. But…” He chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t want to force you. I just want you to know… you’re welcome here. Always.”

“Satoru… I…” You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. Of course you hesitated—this handsome, wonderful human was being so raw, so honest, and you had no idea how to match that level of vulnerability. “I’ve never dated before, so… I don’t know how to react.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the city outside. His blue eyes widened slightly, shock flashing across his face. “You…?”

You shook your head quickly, your cheeks burning. “I mean, I’ve never been in a relationship. Ever.” You fiddled with the edge of your shirt, avoiding his gaze as your heart pounded. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or do. This is all so new to me, and you’re just…” You gestured toward him vaguely. “You’re so you.”

His lips parted slightly, and for once, he seemed at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry,” you continued, your voice quieter now. “I know that’s probably weird to hear. I mean, look at you—you’ve probably had… a lot of experience.”

He blinked, and then, to your surprise, a faint blush crept up his cheeks. “A lot of…?” He switched to Japanese, muttering under his breath, “そんな風に見えるのか…(Do I really seem like that?)”

When you gave him a questioning look, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Okay, maybe I’ve had a few… dates,” he admitted, his voice hesitant, as though he was treading carefully. “But they didn’t mean anything. Not like this.”

Your breath hitched, and you finally looked up at him. “This?”

He nodded, stepping closer. “You. This… connection we have. It’s not like anything I’ve felt before.” His voice softened as he switched back to Japanese, his tone more earnest. “君といると、本当に生きていると感じる。(When I’m with you, I really feel alive.)”

Your heart ached at the raw emotion in his words, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through every defense you had. Tears threatened to spill as you stared at him, your chest tight and your thoughts swirling.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his voice trembling slightly. “Can I… can I hold you tonight? You have the rest of the week left here, and if…” He paused, swallowing hard, his eyes searching yours. “If anything, I’d want us to act like a couple. Even just for now. I want to know everything about you. I want you to be engraved in me because when you leave… I already know it’s going to hurt.”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping as he muttered in Japanese, “行かないでほしい。(I don’t want you to leave.)”

The weight of his confession hung between you, heavy and fragile all at once.

“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“I know it’s selfish,” he said, stepping closer, his hands twitching slightly as though he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. “But I can’t help it. You’ve already taken over my thoughts. My dreams. And I—I don’t want to regret not telling you.”

It felt like you both kept going in circles.

Your chest felt impossibly tight, your heart pounding as the world seemed to blur around the edges. All you could see was him—the way his usually playful expression had softened, the vulnerability in his eyes, and the way his lips trembled ever so slightly as he waited for your response.

“You can kiss me,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “And you can hold me tonight.”

His breath hitched, his blue eyes widening slightly as he looked at you, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice shaking. “I don’t want to push you—”

“I’m sure,” you said, stepping closer until you were just inches away from him. “I want this too.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his eyes searching yours one last time for any sign of doubt. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his hands lifting to cup your face gently as if you were something delicate, precious.

When his lips finally met yours, it was soft, tentative—like he was afraid of crossing some invisible line. But as the kiss deepened, the hesitation melted away, replaced by a warmth that spread through you like fire.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered in Japanese, “君は本当に特別だ。(You’re truly special.)”

You didn’t have the words to respond, your emotions too overwhelming to articulate, so you just nodded, your hands resting lightly on his chest.

Later that night, the two of you sat on the couch, the city lights casting a warm glow through the windows. Satoru’s arm was wrapped around you, holding you close as you rested your head against his shoulder.

“This feels… nice,” he murmured, his voice soft as his fingers traced idle patterns along your arm.

You smiled, tilting your head to look up at him. “It does.”

“I don’t want this week to end,” he admitted, his eyes flickering with something vulnerable again. “I don’t want you to end.”

You placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. “I don’t want this to end either. But…”

He tensed slightly at the word, his gaze sharpening as he looked at you. “But?”

“I don’t know how this works,” you said honestly, your voice trembling. “I don’t know how to leave and not feel like I’m leaving part of myself here with you.”

His grip on you tightened slightly, and he switched back to Japanese, his words quiet but resolute. “僕が君のところに行くよ。(Then I’ll come to you.)”

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“I’ll come to you,” he repeated in English, his voice steady. “If you can’t stay… I’ll visit. As much as I can. Or maybe…” He hesitated, his lips curving into a small, hopeful smile. “Maybe you’ll come back here. For me.”

The idea made your heart flutter, the thought of him waiting for you, of building something that spanned the distance between you.

“I’d like that,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smile widened, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as he murmured, “Good. Because I’m not letting this end. Not yet.”

As the week unfolded, Satoru made sure to fill every moment with something, as if he was trying to show you that Japan could be your home.

He brought you to his family estate in Kyoto, a sprawling property steeped in history and tradition. As he guided you through the serene gardens and ornate halls, his playful demeanor softened, his pride in his heritage evident in the way he explained every detail.

“This,” he said, gesturing to a centuries-old stone lantern, “is where I used to hide when I was a kid. My mom would call for me, and I’d pretend I couldn’t hear her.”

“You sound like a handful,” you teased, earning a sheepish grin.

“I’m still a handful,” he admitted, nudging your shoulder. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

In Okinawa, he took you to the famous Churaumi Aquarium, where you marveled at the massive whale sharks gliding gracefully through the water.

“They’re amazing,” you whispered, your face pressed close to the glass.

“They are,” he agreed, though his gaze wasn’t on the tank but on you.

When you turned to look at him, you caught the softness in his expression, and your cheeks warmed. “Satoru, stop staring. You’re going to miss the sharks.”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head, a teasing grin spreading across his lips. “I think I like my view better.”

He even took you to Disneyland, insisting on matching outfits—a pair of silly Mickey and Minnie sweatshirts that he picked out with way too much enthusiasm.

“You know people are staring, right?” you said as you walked through the park hand in hand.

“Let them,” he said, grinning as he adjusted the ears on your headband. “We look good. Best couple in the park.”

Each moment had been perfect, almost too perfect, and now, as you stood in the airport, the weight of goodbye threatened to crush you.

Satoru walked with you to the security gate, carrying your bag in silence. His usual grin was gone, replaced by an expression of heartbreak that you’d never seen on him before. His steps were slow, deliberate, as though dragging out every second could somehow delay the inevitable.

When you reached the gate, you turned to him, the lump in your throat growing unbearable as you saw the raw emotion swirling in his pale blue eyes.

“Well,” you began, your voice trembling as you tried to keep it light, “this is it, huh?”

But Satoru didn’t laugh, didn’t tease you like he usually would. Instead, he dropped your bag by his feet and stepped forward, pulling you into a hug so tight it felt like he was trying to merge your soul with his.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Please… stay.”

You froze, your chest aching as you felt him bury his face in the curve of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin, the dampness of his tears soaking into your shirt—it was too much.

“Satoru,” you said softly, your own tears starting to spill, “you know I can’t.”

“I don’t care,” he muttered, his voice muffled and trembling. “I don’t care about anything else. I just want you here.”

Your hands clutched the back of his hoodie, holding him as tightly as he held you, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away.

“I don’t want to leave either,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “But we don’t have a choice, do we?”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, and the sight of his tear-streaked face shattered what little composure you had left. His usually bright eyes were glassy with unshed tears, his lower lip trembling as he struggled to hold himself together.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t say goodbye to you.”

You reached up to cup his face, your thumbs gently brushing away his tears. “You’re not saying goodbye,” you said, though the words felt like they were ripping you apart. “This isn’t goodbye, Satoru. I’ll come back. I promise.”

He shook his head, his hands tightening on your waist as if anchoring himself to you. “It’s not enough,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I don’t want promises. I don’t want ‘someday.’ I just want you.”

Your tears spilled over, your vision blurring as you leaned your forehead against his. “I want you too,” you said, your voice trembling. “More than anything.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, clinging to each other like the world might fall apart if you let go.

Then you felt it—his hand slipping into his pocket. Before you could process what was happening, he took your left hand in his, his movements trembling but purposeful.

When he slid a delicate ring onto your finger, the perfect fit, your breath caught in your chest.

“Satoru,” you whispered, your heart pounding, “what are you doing?”

“Marry me,” he said, his voice raw and pleading. His blue eyes locked onto yours, shimmering with tears. “Not now, not tomorrow. Just… someday. Marry me. Please.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out as he continued, his voice cracking as he stumbled through the words.

“In Minecraft, we’ll put our beds together,” he said, a watery smile tugging at his lips. “We’ll get married in Stardew Valley, I'll buy the stupid ring recipe. I’ll move next to you in Animal Crossing—or I’ll just live in a stupid tent near your house. I don’t care how. I just… I want you to be mine.”

Tears blurred your vision, and you felt like the world had tilted on its axis. Gojo Satoru, confident, brilliant, and larger than life, was standing here in front of you, completely vulnerable, begging for you to stay.

“I…” Your voice broke as you looked down at the ring, delicate and simple yet impossibly perfect. “You’re making this so hard, Satoru.”

“I know,” he whispered, his lips trembling. “But I can’t stop. Not when it’s you. Please, just… think about it. Think about us.”

You nodded, your chest heaving with emotion as you threw your arms around him, holding him tightly.

“I’ll come back,” you whispered, your voice thick with tears. “I promise. And we’ll figure this out. I swear.”

When you pulled back, he placed a trembling hand on your cheek, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll wait,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “For as long as it takes. I’ll wait.”

With one last shaky inhale, you stepped back, your hand lingering in his before you forced yourself to turn away.

“Y/N,” he called after you, his voice trembling, and you stopped, looking back at him through tear-filled eyes.

He stood there, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his entire body shaking as he tried to keep it together. “Don’t forget me,” he said, his voice raw and desperate.

Your heart shattered at his words, and you nodded, unable to find the strength to speak. With a final, shaky smile, you turned and walked through the gate, your tears falling freely now as the distance between you grew.

But just before you disappeared into the crowd, you glanced back one last time.

Satoru was still standing there, his tear-streaked face illuminated by the harsh airport lights. 

You blew him a kiss and he grabbed it. A smile gracing his lips before he wiped his tears. 

This wasn’t goodbye, but it felt like it. 

[aviad1b]

I have some very mixed feelings about this.

I'll start by saying that I've been talking about the possibility of such a project for a long time now. I considered trying to do it by myself for myself just as a proof of concept.

So TL;DR: I'm conflicted, but in general - a fan?

On the one hand, I can see where David is coming from: yes, extending a language's grammar like that seems kinda... impossible. Especially with Hebrew. People tend to get fixated on these things, and Hebrew doesn't really have this sort of thing naturally.

On the other hand - didn't we ravitalize the whole goddamn language? And yes, it was never truly dead in the first place, not in the way that gentiles like to think of at the very least, but it wasn't developing as much and we changed that.

And also, think about it - how does modern Hebrew handle gender inclusivity at the moment? With notation such as את/ה and רוצים/ות, etc. It wasn't always the case. Think about it, it used to be that to be gender "neutral" you just use the male form. Then developed into masc/fem, then "neutral/fem" (which isn't even a good name for the notation because את/ה exists).

The truth is that while Hebrew is a very "kept" language, very protected, in the sense that it's vocabulary and grammar haven't developed that much in over a millenia - it's also kinda the most evolving, in a sense? In what other language are words still constantly made, constantly developed, all in a way that fits perfectly fine with everything that already exists? I don't really know many languages at all, but comparing to English at the very least, it's seems kinda crazy to me. Hebrew is a very flexible language, and I've been saying that the only way she's not flexible in is gender - why does it have to stay that way?

We proved that we can make major changes to the very way that people speak - or write, at the very least.

When I think about such changes... No, not just changes - developments, in the Hebrew language, I also find my thoughts wondering to something else - gentiles, antisemites especially, like to claim that modern Hebrew is completely different to traditional Hebrew (which is a claim that we all point and laugh at, since modern Hebrew natives can read and understand traditional and even ancient Hebrew perfectly fine). Maybe the reason I'm somewhat conflicted about this is because it will further support this "nerative" (lie) that it's become a different language? But that's dumb, languages develop and involve all the time, Hebrew happened to be a more protected language. Allowing it to be a bit more flexible doesn't make it any less "real". And besides, why should antisemites get to dictate what our language is like? That's just not right at all.

A problem that I still do have with this tho, has to do with vowels. In day-to-day, people don't write vowels in Hebrew. That isn't going to change and I don't think I'd even want it to change honestly. But it does make this more challenging - without vowels, how will one manage to differentiate בַּת from בֶּת , and אַתָּה from אַתֶּה ?

Or maybe that's a good thing? Because it'll make people able to "stealthily" use it, sneak it in without people realising and protesting? But then this isn't really the way I want such a notion to be used, do I?

The thing about developments in general, and in language specifically, is that they come out of need. If Hebrew fails to satisfy the needs of its speakers, what guarantee do we have of it surviving tomorrow? Pardon my pessimism, but being Israeli and Hebrew (yes I still use the old notion of Hebrew as in the ethnicity/people), I see more and more Hebrew natives approaching English more rather than Hebrew. Maybe even including myself - it's kinda my entire blog. I started catching myself thinking in English sometimes - I managed to come to the conclusion that a major part of this is because Hebrew forced me to think of myself in gendered terms. English does not.

This is what I mean when I say on my blog that I love Hebrew but she doesn't love me back

I've seen people use אתם/הם as pronouns in Hebrew. If it works for them then good for them, but to me, I simply cannot accept that this is the "best Hebrew can do". That's... still gendered. It doesn't suffice. I refuse to accept it as enough. It's not.

And yes, a major part of English influence on Hebrew natives (and Jews in general) is the fault of the internet. But, I do feel like there's more to it - for some at least, there's a need that isn't answered.

We Jews are experts at adapting "old", traditional concepts onto whatever the current times are; why should our language be any different? Perhaps we should consider that our very language is more like us than we think?

Can we get people on a major scale to fundamentally change the way in which they speak? probably not. Can we add another gender notion for people who want to use it tho? I'd like to think so. I like to think about it somewhat like neo-pronouns in English: when they were first introduced, almost nobody used them and people in general thought that they were weird. Heck, people STILL do. But it have some people, even if just a few, a new way to finally feel more comfortable with the language that is used for them - and that, on its own, should suffice. In my humble opinion, at least.

To sum it up, while my feelings about this are mixed, I also feel like if ANYONE could achieve such a project - it's us, the Hebrews, the Jews.

And I'm sure we will some day.

I can't believe anything else.

Because Hebrew is a gendered language, the Nonbinary Hebrew Project has created a third grammatical gender system! They are building a bigger tent for nonbinary Jews, guided by Torah and Talmud which teach us to rejoice that which cannot be neatly categorized.

The project is free, open-source, community-based, and grassroots. It lives and grows and changes with every single person who uses and adds to it.

Here are some example usages: Candlelighting Blessing: with gender-expansive God language

בְּרוּךֶ אָתֶה ײַ, אֱלֹהִימוֹתֵינוּ מַלְכֶּת הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְשֶׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתֶיהֶ וְצִוֶנוּ לְהַדְלִיק נֵר שֶׁל שַבָּת

Bruche ateh Adonai, Elohimoteinu Malket ha’Olam asher kidshenu b’mitzvoteihe, v’tzivenu l’hadlik ner shel Shabbat. Blessed are You, God, Ruler of the universe, who sanctified us with the commandment of lighting Shabbat candles.

~~~

Kiddush: with gender-expansive God language

בְּרוּךֶ אָתֶה ײַ,  אֱלֹהִימוֹתֵינוּ מַלְכֶּת הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרָאת פְּרִי הַגָּֽפֶן

Bruche ateh Adonai, Elohimoteinu Malket ha’Olam, borat p’ri hagafen. Blessed are you, Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.

~~~

Blessing over Bread: with gender-expansive God language

בְּרוּךֶ אָתֶה ײַ, אֱלֹהִימוֹתֵינוּ מַלְכֶּת הָעוֹלָם, הַמּוֹצִיאֶה לֶחֶם מִן הָאָרֶץ

Bruche ateh Adonai, Elohimoteinu Malket ha’Olam, Hamotzi'e lechem min ha'aretz. Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has brought forth bread from the earth.

~~~

Waking-up Blessing: with gender-expansive language for the speaker, but traditional God language

מודֶת אֲנִי לְפָנֶיךָ מֶלֶךְ חַי וְקַיָּם, שֶׁהֶחֱזַרְתָּ בִּי נִשְׁמָתִי בְּחֶמְלָה, רַבָּה אֱמוּנָתֶךָ:

Modet ani l'fanecha, melech chai v'kayam, shechezarta bi nishmati, b'chemla, raba emunatecha.

I give thanks before you, King living and eternal, for You have returned within me my soul with compassion; abundant is Your faithfulness!

~~~

Morning Blessing substitutions: with gender-expansive language for the speaker, but traditional God language

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, שֶׁעָשַׂנִי בֶּת חוֹרין

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-Olam, she-asani bet chorin.

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who has made me free. ~~~

Soulmate Blessing: written by Ariel Ezekiel Tovlev, with gender-expansive language for the speaker's soulmate, but traditional God language

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה אֶת יְדִידֶת נַפְשִׁי

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech haolam, asher asah et yedidet nafshi. Blessed are You, Ruler of the Universe, who created the companion of my soul.

~~~

Wedding-Enacting Words: with gender-expansive language for the one the speaker is marrying and for the ring, but traditional God language

הרי אתה מקדשה לי, בטבעת זת, כדת משה וישראל

Harei ateh m’kudesheh li, b’tabaet zet, k’dat Moshe v’Yisrael.

Behold, you are sanctified to me, with this ring, according to Moses and Israel. ~~~ For more examples, as well as charts explaining the grammar system, check out the website! A note from Jewish-LGBTQ: The Nonbinary Hebrew Project is primarily being created in the diaspora and is used for ritual purposes; queer communities in Israel have their own system for creating gender-expansive Hebrew. The Nonbinary Hebrew Project should be understood as creating a third grammatical gender for liturgical and ritual Hebrew, rather than for everyday, spoken Modern Hebrew.

[bengiyo]

Ben's Big BL Blurb 3: Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Blew It, But I Still Recommend It

I finished Blue Canvas of Youthful Days today, and I don’t like where we left off with this show. Let’s get into that, and then check in on some of the other shows I’m watching.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Didn’t Give the Audience Catharsis

I don’t begrudge the show going for a happy ending, given how so many other BLs from their home country end with sudden traumatic turns. However, I don’t feel like we got catharsis from the ending at all. I struggle to full articulate my frustration here, but I think I just really wanted an ending akin to Weekend (2011) or Gameboys 2 (2022).

I think these two were in a position where they were unable to be together now, and I think they should have ended on a separation. When Cairo and Gav had to separate at the end of Gameboys, it was the correct choice. They were still building their lives, and Gav wasn’t doing well on his on. Similarly, Blue Canvas established a scenario whereby Qi Lu did not have the power to stop his father from harming Qin Xiao. Likewise, Qin Xiao couldn’t keep the local gang from beating Qi Lu.

I would have preferred they have the boys confront that they were hiding things from each other, and how they both failed to protect each other from the horrors. I am disappointed that we didn’t get a poignant goodbye from them as they accept that they can’t be together right now. I wouldn’t have minded so much a blurb at the end of the show with the pitch for a season 2 that they didn’t get to film (though @thisonelikesaliens commentary makes even what they wrote dour). We didn’t confront the issue with the dad at all, and we didn’t deal with Qin Xiao losing all he’d worked for.

Genuinely, I would have been okay with them getting a tag at the end of the show with them seeing each other on the street again and sharing a meaningful look. However, we never saw them face the music of their double noble idiocy, and that sucks. It especially sucks because we had Let Free The Curse of Taekwondo this year, and so we saw the consequences of this. We could have had these two railing against the world and promising to see each other again. The tag at the end of the reuse of the fantasy sequence feels tacked on and unearned. That kinda sucks more.

Final Verdict: 8, Recommended With Reservations. I really liked most of this show, and I think they wrote some phenomenal characters until the finale here. Like @lurkingshan I ended up not pleased with this ending. I am disappointed in the lack of resolution about the withholding, and I think they needed to face the separation and goodbye. However, I really liked the cast, and I respect the team that worked so hard to get this to us.

On to the rest of the show, presented in no particular order…starting with the worst. I’ll put in parentheses what episode number I’m on as of this post.

Haunted Hearts is Boring (5/7)

Magic, mah friend! Your show is boring. I do not know why these boys won’t kiss, and at this point I feel like I don’t care anymore. They’re introducing yet another ghost next week and I just am so disinvested. I try so hard every time to support Oxin Films and Regal Entertainment, but they make it so fucking hard. Holy shit. There’s only so far the boys being cute can carry a thin concept like this.

City of Stars is Better Than I Expected (2/12)

I am catching up on this show. The acting isn’t great, but I’m really enjoying a lot of what’s happening here. I will report back when I finish.

See Your Love is Fun But Kinda Weird (7/13)

The visuals are great in this show, and the leads are filling in the aesthetic gap left behind by Jimmy and Tommy in a way that really works for me. There’s been way too many pratfalls in the last two episodes. We are at 1.5 pratfalls per episode at this point. The side couple is absolutely ridiculous. I’m having fun.

Caged Again is Becoming a Favorite (4/10)

Junior is the best protagonist of the year. I’m obsessed with this penguin boy. I love the way this show uses its supernatural elements to drive its storytelling forward, even if I think the plot got a little silly in episode 4. The friend group dynamics are so fun, and I haven’t enjoyed a group of Thai boys this much since Knock Knock, Boys! (no surprise, two of them are in this show, too).

Your Sky is a Weekly Delight (3/12)

The 2gether rewrite show is great, and I will be reading no commentary to the contrary. These boys are so great, and they are one of the best couples of the year. This show is doing fake dating in a way that’s just so excellent, because it’s real dating! The boys are genuinely trying to get know each other so they can pretend to be a better fake couple. This is so close to being excellent meta commentary about dating in the digital age, and how so much of dating for the current generation is about how others perceive the validity of your relationship. It’s actually so fun to watch a show where the characters are doing all the things you’re supposed to do when you’re trying to build something with someone, but one of them doesn’t fully understand what they’ve gotten into. This show is great, and I love it.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan is so Slick (5/10)

If there’s one thing a Japanese drama is going to get right it’s trauma! This show delivered on Kai’s horrors in a way that was so visceral that I needed to pause and catch a breath. I remain obsessed with the casting of Nagatsuma Reo as Kai, because he’s taller than Suzuki Asahi sometimes. I really love that they didn’t give us the BL height difference trope, and I like that they didn’t style Kai in a way to make him look more feminine. There’s a egalitarian physical balance between Fuma and Kai that I find extremely refreshing, considering the massive class, wealth, and suffering gap between the two characters. It’s no surprise that we’ve had a dearth of gifs of their sex scene, considering it doesn’t play to the kind of asymmetric aesthetics that folks seem enjoy in their pairings.

As always, the Rei and Kai friendship remains one of the best parts of this story, and I like the way this version of Sky talks to this version of Rain about the queer stuff. He feels like he’s being careful with his friend, and not just ghosting him on important conversations about his friend’s sexual awakening (one of my major gripes with the original Thai adaptation).

Our Youth is Taking Over My Brain (4/11)

I have not moved on from the “Infect me” line, and I am still obsessed with the plausible deniability of the “no homo” that Hirukawa relies upon as he continues to pursue Minase. Now that Minase has reached his breaking point, I’m so looking forward to seeing where we go next. We’re due for a major separation, and I’m ready for a Japanese BL to not fuck up a second chance romance attempt this time. Perhaps adapting Korean work could the solution?

Spare Me Your Mercy is a Welcome Return to the Sammon Feeling I Enjoy (1/10)

I just really love when Sammon shows feel like the mystery matters more than the romance, and this feels like it’s in the correct space. I loved the initial setup, and the potential for there to be multiple murderers. I really hope that they start killing younger people in this show, because they said there were only 40 palliative care patients, and we downed three of them in the first episode. I’m so happy to see JJ again, and Tor looks great. I am looking forward to the weekly watch and theorizing with this show. Most importantly, I’m looking forward to the complex meditation on euthanasia, which this story feels like it’s taking seriously.

Love is Like a Poison Finally has Given Us a BL Battle Couple Again (11/12)

We haven’t had a BL battle couple in what feels like forever. I love that this show continues to reward us for believing in Haruto and Shiba. Haruto’s dad is the absolute worst, and I really want him to lose. I love Shiba, and I love that the show continues to give him some of the visual tropes of a legal drama (like the pan up near the end). I’m in love with this show, and it’s going to be one of my favorites of the year, I’m sure.

Fragrance You Inherit Hurts Me Because Everyone is Doing The Right Thing (4/8)

This show is actually so painful sometimes, because no one is doing anything wrong. Everyone is being as emotionally honest as they can be with everyone they speak to about all of the things that are going on. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Sakura choosing to let go of her lingering crush on Mone now that they’re both moms and their kids are dating. Besides, we presume that Mone is still married! The conversation with On-chan makes me think that Mone misunderstood the relationship Sakura had with him in college (My man is ace but not aro! We love to see it).

I just really love that everyone is trying to do right by everyone around them, and I think all of the things that remain unspoken in this show have been withheld for completely valid reasons. There are no villains in this story, and that makes it even harder to watch really kind people treat each other politely in every scene. I’m just feeling a quiet scream in me the entire time I watch a good son by a thoughtful gift for his loving mother with the help of his supportive and lovely girlfriend, as he prepares a surprise from the old friend who clearly still cares about her friend and the unrequited/unexpressed feelings between them. This show is incredible. Go watch it right now. Thank you again to @isaksbestpillow.

Conclusion

That’s more shows than I’ve been watching in a while. It’s nice to have some Thai shows back in my rotation that I’m actually enjoying. I really want the Chinese to now fuck up their endings, but it seems like 2024 will not be that year. I’ll try to check in with the end of Love is Like a Poison when the Netflix release schedule completes so folks can binge it then. In the mean time, let me know what you’re enjoying, and what else I should consider picking up.

[yeta-drewit]

I just KNOW the moment Wednesday season 2 is out, and they continue this gay vibes from the novelization of season 1, people are going to be screaming about how platonic relationships are dead in media.

I am surprised to learn that as of late people have been criticizing gay shipping for “erasing” platonic relationships, that by making every platonic relationship into a gay ship we are giving the idea that every interaction is inherently romantic and influencing the children into not understanding the difference between romantic and platonic relationships.

I want to start this by saying that I do believe that a lot of people don’t understand the difference between romantic and platonic relationships, but I don’t think it comes from gay shipping, I believe this development comes from many things. One example could be how society pressures people to find a relationship which leads to desperation and purposefully blurring the lines between romance and friendship because it’s better to have someone, even if you don’t really love them romantically and just enjoy their company, than to have no one. Another example could be how society used to have a heteronormative idea of relationships, if we all believed ourselves to be straight, than it was easy to just say “if I’m a woman all the women I get along with I only see as platonic, but if I get along with a man I must see it as romantic”, but now that we are expanding on the possibility that people of all genders can be both platonically or romantically involved with anyone of any gender, we are having to face the fact that romantic and platonic feelings are not solid concepts and we have to get philosophical with what is love and what constitutes love, and most people don’t like to think about that so they keep to their heteronormativity.

This are but only 2 reasons why I believe people don’t understand platonic and romantic relationships but I haven’t heard anyone say that because they be blaming gay shipping. I’m going to say that like with anything in life this has nuance and you can argue all you want but I’m going to say that I genuinely believe a good part of the people saying this argument are homophobes.

By stating gay shipping you are ultimately also adding gay relationships, gay shipping is just a step below from queer representation. So ultimately you are making the same homophobic argument that queer relationships shouldn’t be portrayed in media because it would confuse the masses and the children. We have fallen into the idea that complicated concepts as romantic and platonic relationships should be dumbify to appeal to a larger audience of straight people.

But I can hear someone argue “but shipping is a fandom thing not a show thing”. Well someone has been living under a rock because nowadays fandoms are an extension of the show, we are social media people, we thrive in social engagement in these online communities and fandom culture has been on the fucking rise. We can’t ignore that what happens within a fandom is how people ultimately portrayed the show, it’s the reason why a lot of people don’t watch things like mha because the fandom is weird and not because the show is bad. So by criticizing gay shipping within a fandom you are ultimately criticizing it as if it was part of the show.

Which leads me to Wenclair. I believed season 2 is truly going to be coming in a horrible time to be a minority, as people have been growing more homophobic and racist as time goes on. So people are going to extremely criticize the Wenclair ship, not because it’s a toxic or immorally wrong ship, but because it’s gay. People would criticize the show because they are going to go from friends to lovers. They would argue so much about the fact Wenclair is erasing a platonic relationship that they would forget that a foundation for many straight ships and real life relationships is friendship.

I don’t think friendship in media is dying. Within my example of Wenclair there are multiple moments of true friendships in the show. A big part of the Wednesday show was Wednesday learning to have allies and people she can trust to help her, but people would ignore does messages to jump about the fact the two main girls of the show are seen as more than platonic EVEN THOUGH BOTH OF THEM HAVE SOLID FRIENDSHIPS OUTSIDE OF THE SHIP. It’s almost like the only problem is that they are both girls, because let’s be honest NO ONE is saying the same thing about straight ships, they straight ships are always super romantic and completely fine, even though we could argue that does ships also can confused people as to what is romantic and what is platonic.

And before anyone comes for me arguing that I’m taking this too far and that I’m just a sad gay who doesn’t understand we NEED same gender platonic representation (like we haven’t had enough of that in hundreds of centuries of media 😀) and that I’m just mad people criticize my gay ship. I am going to hold your hand and say. I don’t care if you hate a ship. You can tell me all you want that Xavier or Tyler are better potential partners for Wednesday and I would let you because that’s your constitutional given right, BUT if you are criticizing the ship not by personal preference but from the eyes of homophobia I am going to be mad and I’m going to be annoyed by it, because queer representation has JUST been on the rise, you can’t already be mad at it WHEN IT JUST STARTED. WATCH ANY SHOW IN ANY GENRE AND YOU WOULD FIND SAME GENDER COMPLETELY PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS, SO WHY MUST YOU BE MAD AT THE SLIGHT POSSIBILITY OF A SHOW DOING ONE, ONE!, CONTRADICTION TO THE NORM.

Shipping and canon gay relationships are not going to take away friendship, they are just helping people understand that there is not one way of being in love or one way of being involved with someone of the opposite gender, we are not stopping friendships. I would make the argument we are increasing it by making people analyze their interactions with people of even the opposite gender through the eyes of it being platonically. Because now gender is not a factor in friendships, you can be friends with anyone of any gender. Shipping shouldn’t be confusing you about it, you should think critically and analyze what you consider love.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

a chaotic trip to the grocery store

Word Count - 1.6k

Author's Note: I am 100% procrastinating on other wips simply because I can't get Jack as a dad out of my head. I might make this a whole AU. 🤭 Shoutout to Allie (@aleskie-hischier) for letting me yap her ear off, about this concept off and on for weeks. Also choosing not to put a summary because it's so small it ruins it.

Grocery shopping wasn't supposed to be this difficult. Jack has been a single dad for a few months now, but somehow this is the first time he is taking both his kids grocery shopping - and he knows he is a shitty person for thinking this - but he wishes Luke would of agreed to babysit for an hour instead of him taking both of them to the store.

"Daddy" his son screeches his name and Jack is suddenly alert again, to the fact that he is in the store entering the cereal aisle.

"ya baby?" because despite his son, just being a little over two years old now, Zander will always be Jack's baby. Even now, even though Zander hates it and his brows are in that cute little frown and lips are slightly pouting as they do only when Jack calls him by that.

" 'ot a baby. Zo a baby." he pouts, standing in the cart now, with his little arms folded over his chest, 'God he looks so much like me' Jack thinks to himself. 'just too sassy for his own good.'

"You are both my babies. Isn't that right Zozo." Jack coos at his baby girl sitting in the seat of the basket, slightly leaning forward to grab her attention. Jack smiles at his daughter as she laughs at him, clapping her hands now that she's receiving attention from her favorite person.

Jack suddenly snaps out of whatever moment he's having with his daughter when he hears his son call for him again. "yes bab-. Sorry little Z whatcha need?" He smirks as he teases his son on purpose.

"Can I have da good cereal?" he asks cheekily with a smile on his face. The 'good cereal' Zander means the sugary kind that gets him so hyper it’s hard to control his energy and he usually is meaner to his sister, which results in a lot of crying and screaming from both of them. Jack takes a deep breath, just thinking about how his morning would go if he gave in and let him have it for a snack when they got home. Ultimately if he gave in to buying it, Zander would have a hard time understanding that right before nap time isn’t the right time for that type of snack. Jack sighs to himself, as he tries to let his son down gently hoping he doesn’t have a meltdown. 

"No buddy, not today." Jack responds softly hoping that Zander will let it go. But before his son can let out any response, let alone his little protests. Jack hears someone call his name and he flinches his father's instincts kicking into overdrive, he used to not mind getting recognized when he was out but when he has his kids it's his worst nightmare.

It's almost like his kids can feel their father's shift in the mood and he lets out a deep breath, hoping that it soothes them. Jack smiles to himself when it seems to work, keeping a hand on the cart he turns around to the voice shedding the stranger from seeing his children. Sadly it isn't the first time he has been recognized in public with his kids and it won't be the last. But the knot in his stomach, hopes whoever he is about to face will be kind. One thing Jack hates the most about playing in the NHL, is his children's faces being blasted all over social media and talked about endlessly simply because of who their father is. Jack truly doesn’t know how real famous people deal with the media around their kids. 

He turns around to see a man and a girl, and he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Somehow the guys always happened to be a little more chill than the young girls. "oh shit you are Jack Hughes!" he exclaims in shock.

"hey can you not curse in front of my kids man." Jack tries hard to not sound like a dick, but Zander is in his copying faze and if he picks up curse words from a fan, Jack will never hear the end of it.

"Oh fuck sorry. shit sorry I-." Jack gives him a tight smile, he can see the guy trying but when you're in your 20's most people don't have to censor their language due to being around children. The young man, probably no more older than the 24 year old Jack, looks to the girl for help.

"Sorry to bother you, but it would mean a lot if he could take a picture with you?" The girl smiles softly at Jack, but Jack doesn't respond because he hears Zander whine for him, his stranger danger stage along with copying every word stage in full force. Of course, if Zander shows any sign of distress Zo will start fussing as well. Jack doesn't even attempt to apologize to the couple as he turns to his kids.

"Come here baby. It's okay." Jack mumbles as he reaches for his mini-me. Zander doesn't seem to mind the nickname anymore when he's scared. Quickly he goes to his fathers arms and lets him be picked up out of the cart, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and hiding his face in his neck. Jack holds his son and tries to smooth him as he clings to him. Jack tries to focus, frowning his eyebrows as he uses the heel of his foot to rock the cart back and forth trying to calm Zola down in the process. Finally, feeling Zander calm down against his chest, he moves him to one side so he now can use his hand to pet his daughter's head showing her everything is fine.

"You have really cute kids." The girl speaks up, and suddenly Jack is reminded of why his son was so scared in the first place, he feels Zander press into him a little harder than a few seconds ago and Jack's jaw tightens in response.

"Look if I take a picture with you, you promise not to take any of them or post the photo online for a few hours. They're just kids, they deserve privacy." Before Jack can continue on his tangent the girl cuts him off.

"We haven't." She almost seems offended for Jack assuming they would take unconsented photos but he doesn't apologize for it.

"I'd love a picture with you if you're able." The man speaks softly, Jack grins at him tightly, bending his head down to talk to his son.

"Hey little Z?" he coos. Even though Jack doesn't hear his son, he knows Zander is listening because his head turns ever so slightly towards his fathers voice.

"Can we make a deal lil' man?" Jack softly asks. He waits until he can feel his son nod his head. “Can you be brave and stay with sissy while I take a photo with these nice people.” Jack softly asks, his tone so soft that Zander is craning his neck slightly to make sure he hears his dads every word. 

“I wanna stay wit you.” Zander sniffles, and Jack's heart sinks in the pit of his stomach. 

“My baby. I’ll be 3 feet away okay. And then we can pick a special healthy snack for snack time today. Alright?” Jack shoots a look over to the couple, as if to tell them without speaking that he’s working on it. 

“Why cannt’ I stay wit you?” Zander asks. 

“Because then who’s gonna watch Zozo?” Jack asks, knowing he isn’t telling his son the whole truth, about how he will never let him be in fan pictures. I mean he is a little over two and his face hasn’t been posted once on social media, it’s honestly a miracle that only Jack holding him one time was posted. One day he will tell him, but not when Zander is two and having a tough time understanding that his dad isn’t leaving him. 

“Promise you come back. Not like mama.” Zander asks, and Jack wants to cry, his son thinks that Jack would ever leave him. 

“Promise honey.” Jack coos, kissing the crown of his son's head. He felt Zander wiggle in his grasp and he knew he wanted to let down. Jack gently made sure he was on his feet, before he stood and got up, he softly put Zanders little hand so it grasped the cart but he stepped back. Jack stood opposite of his kids, on the other side, so there was no chance for even a glimpse of his children in the picture. Jack took a selfie with both, and one photo with each of them separately. 

Once the couple finally walked away, he felt his son tug his leg. “I did it daddy! I was a big boy SEE NO BABY.” His voice screeched with glee. 

“You did so good Z.” Jack smiled down at him, ruffing his hair. “What healthy snack do you want bubs?” he asks, picking him up and placing him back in the cart. 

“I wan’ da good cereal,” he demands. 

“Zander,” he says sternly. “I already told you not today.” Jack knows he has roughly 3 minutes before a full on meltdown, and maybe it’s the guilt from Zander struggling earlier on during the grocery trip. But he just sighs and places the cinnamon toast crunch in the cart, Jack is just glad he could avoid a meltdown. Although then his daughter needs her diaper changed and starts to cry to let her dad know. Suddenly Jack feels like he should have just listened to Luke when he told him to Instacart.

[hasufin]

One of our intended future renovations is to rip out the carpet in our lower floor and install hardwood. Because we have cats.

I think.. look, minimalism can be taken too far, yes? And our culture doesn't do restraint. But I think there's something to be said for "Do you have a table there because you actually want a table there, or just because it feels like you should have a table there?" and "Do you actually like having an entire shelf full of knickknacks, or were they given to you by confused relatives who didn't know what you might want for your birthday, and they're actually kinda annoying?"

There's value in asking if you seriously want to have stuff you never use taking up space. Because that happens a lot. And gods, but I know. I grew up kinda poor so I hang onto a lot of stuff because it cost money and I don't know if I'll want it later, but there's shit I've had in boxes for longer than a lot of folks reading this have been alive.

"Keeping clean" isn't just about dusting, either. It's about knowing where stuff is - which is a lot easier when you don't have 40 boxes of "stuff I accumulated since graduating college which I might need someday". It's about not having places where grime - or worse - can accumulate. It's about being able to see when something is missing because you can see the stuff you use.

Realize that the shit you see in magazines is Too Damned Far, and done for effect. I think the underlying concepts are restraint and function. Know when you have too much, and don't get in your own way.

Look, I fully understand the criticisms of the minimalist decor trend, and I acknowledge the class dynamics implicit in being able to feasibly maintain such a living space, but fuck if it doesn't look easy to clean.

[whokilledsamara]

hello my lovely!!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

i figured since you sent me a request i'll send you one too if that's okay?! i see a lack of mr hood on ur acc so maybe some headcanons for him if you have any!!? anything cute or anything filthy!!

MR. HOOD N/SFW HCS

a list of Mr. Hood x reader hcs {an: ofc my love, hope you like!! 💋💋}

warnings || smut, tentacles, monster fucking, soft dom, slight violence, black goo

{an || ah hello!! i hope you enjoy these, i dont have much Mr. Hood and i wanted to write for him soon so thank you!}

SFW

Mr. Hood is a difficult lover, as expected. he cant quite grasp the concept of love- or he just doesn't want to. it will take forever to even convince him to admit his feelings.

he is known to bring gifts, or anything he comes across that would seem to interest you. he just really likes seeing you happy!

he is a very monotone guy, rarely any emotion noticeable from him honestly. he prefers to keep things leveled out and little to no affection.

even if you aren't "shrunken", he still likes having you inside of his coat. he says its for safety purposes, but you know its more than that.

when it comes to the others- he doesn't mind letting you hang out with them! he isn't controlling whatsoever and allows you to pretty much do as you please.

usually he is gone somewhere, but don't worry, he is always watching. even if you cant see him per se, he has his "eyes" on you.

he wont admit it, but he enjoys your company. his biggest fear is loosing you. therefore, if you call for him- he will always be there.

cold? he will either stuff you inside of his coat with him or he will just take it off and hand it to you. something about seeing you in it does something for him.

NSFW

he is a very gentle lover. while yes, he has a lot of pent up tension, he wont be rough with you unless explicitly asked. if you do however allow him to be rough, he will still have restraint.

he doesn't have a penis, he has tentacles. they work the same, and act the same, just don't look the same. {feels better too}

he is terrified of harming you, so any negative noise you make will cause him to halt his motions. just tap his arm or something to make him resume.

not a greedy or teasing lover. will give you what you both want, and do it efficiently.

his favorite position is missionary. he gets to use all of your holes at once with his multiple tentacles.

his cum is black and translucent, but has the consistency of human semen. tastes like literally nothing.

noises aren't very frequent with him. you might hear a grunt or two every now and then, but nothing loud or anything.

his hands feel very cool against your body, often groping and grabbing whatever flesh he can. specifically your neck.

very few limits on what he will do. anything you ask, he will do silently and immediately. very obedient.

he is a very soft dom. will please you and will be quiet without degradation or roughness, but always on "top".

hehehe,, might make more...

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[smileposting]

what are your feelings on inspekta being both a sympathetic character and a (now former) fascist?

WELL. first of all, i think it's Probably worth noting that even while GGG's representation of the conditions that can give rise to fascism are Uncannily accurate at times (as outlined in this very excellent post by elkian) it is Also a story in which the central message is "maybe talk to your friends instead of conspiracy-posting when you start to feel bad about yourself, dipshit," and therefore its representation of fascism/fascist thought As A Whole is very... how do i say this without sounding disparaging. "saturday morning cartoon"-esque. i think this is pretty apparent in how the worst that the bizzyboys' reign of terror ever gets is banning The Concept Of Art and not, like. genocide. the only Actual fatal threat (the rift) is saved for the very end, and inspekta/hector is talked down before it can actually cause any fatalities -- otherwise, inspekta and the bizzyboys would be very different antagonists that would require the narrative to treat them much more harshly, and this would result in a very different game overall (although not one i would be opposed to playing.)

second of all, i wanna talk more about the idea of GGG being less of a game about taking down a single power-hungry fascist and more an examination of the conditions that can eventually lead to fascism if left unchecked. for just one example, we can see that even before inspekta came into power (or at least, before he started his corruption arc) and even in a world where every god is genuinely kind and just and deserving of their position, it was generally The Norm to not really call them out To Their Face - any displeasure a character voices with a god's (apparent) decision is directed to each other and the godpoke, not to the god themselves, even when that god is perfectly open to visitors and/or feedback. and this is bad because despite the gods no longer being Physically human, they are still just as fallible - they have a tendency to jump to conclusions, they let their devotion to their interests or one another cloud their judgement, they struggle with showing vulnerability (which, ironically, makes them more vulnerable than they would be otherwise.) not only does the grove benefit from regular contact with the gods to make sure that their needs are being met -- it benefits the gods, too, by way of keeping them from getting lost in their own heads and losing touch with their own humanity.

i think it's also worth noting that the bizzyboys are not the only characters we see buying into fascist rhetoric, or at least stuff that benefits fascism in the long run. you could argue that anyone who bought into inspekta's framing of king in the first place also counts, given that to do so would probably Also require one to believe that the gods are infallible. it's also worth noting that a Lot of the more notable supporting characters who fall into this are also doing so out of a profound sense of alienation; saul can't remember the last time he talked to any of his friends and he thinks nobody takes him seriously, pollina's students don't sound like they're being taught much of anything about milldread's history and therefore they have very little to actually connect them to milldread, nobody likes rick brick and he has no interiority to speak of By Design, etc etc. all of these characters, however, are also treated with a fair amount of empathy - ol' bloom turns out to be Correct in believing that saul doesn't have what it takes to kill him and once the issue of the harvest is solved, he's welcomed back with open arms, pollina's students are like 8, and even rick brick's story ends with him beginning to realize that maybe it's okay if a story only appeals to its author and nobody else.

tl;dr: if ggg was even Slightly less cartoony than it actually is, this aspect of inspekta would come across as pretty jarring, but given the aspects of fascism that GGG chooses to focus on and how it treats smaller antagonists, i can't really imagine inspekta's story ending any other way. if i Did have any actual concerns, i'd say maybe it's that the bizzyboys being from the drain + the drain having such a negative connotation can get kinda dicey? something about the idea of fascism being an Evil Foreign Entity and not something that can just as easily start at home doesn’t sit quite right with me. but ofc a lot of emphasis is placed on the bizzyboys' humanity and potential to do good if not for inspekta's own Complexes getting the better of him (and even inspekta's own genuine capacity for leadership before that happened) so that's probably more of a potential bone to pick with fanwork, given how little exploration drain actually Gets in canon.

also i hope this doesn't Need to be said but just to be clear: i'm not trying to like, call out limbolane or Inspekta Himself, just examining what this aspect of his character was trying to Accomplish + how it relates to the game's themes and such. with that said i am very much still a novice when it comes to political analysis of media so if anybody more well-read than me wants to chime in, Please feel free to do so lol.