#BUT it has been really fun doing this event!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alygator77 · 2 days ago

Text

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ

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

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

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

ꨄ words: 10.5k

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

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎

ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too late,” he whispers back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”

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

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

“How do I look?” you pose playfully.

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

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

“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru clears his throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”

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

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

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

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

“Okay, got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.

Haru barely spares a second glance.

“Nope! The stem is too small.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haru’s face lights up with pride.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re impossible…” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Haru.

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

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

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

“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”

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

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

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

“Promise ‘toru?”

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recognition.

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

No such luck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just us, huh?” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now, that’s all that matters.

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

taglist:

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

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

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

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

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

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer @elliesndg

@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

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

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

358 notes · View notes

cerastes · 3 days ago

Note

Heya, everything I know about Arknights is from watching you, and I trust you to tell us about the funny and fucked up parts.

Are their fucked up and evil Taoists in Arknights?

The fun part about asking about anything Japanese-adjacent regarding the world of Terra is that most every answer is “possibly”, because hilariously enough, and definitely intentionally by now, there’s this place called Higashi, which is the obligatory Japan Place of the setting, and we know jack shit about it compared to virtually every other place in the setting five years into the game existing. We as readers have not gone there, we don’t really know much about the place besides it having recently been embroiled in an extremely bloody war, no event has taken place in there except the funny Monster Hunter crossover event, where the last thing that matters is Higashi itself.

Characters hailing from there are basically bloodied warriors of various backgrounds— Yato, Noir Corne, Akafuyu, Hoshiguma — or ninjas — Shirayuki, Kazemaru — or party fiends — Utage, Midnight — and also someone’s wife who is an NPC. Oh and Mizuki actually but him being Higashinese is a non factor.

Higashi could right this very second have Catboy Abe no Seimei fistfighting an honest to god Gundam and we would not know because Higashi is just not at all relevant to what we’re doing.

#arknights #xenomutt

140 notes · View notes

islandtarochips · 1 day ago

Text

Farmer!Ghost x Female!Reader

Arhtur's Note: I apologize for taking so long to post this everyone. It takes a while for me to find a good story to it and I was busy helping out with my family and work. So I hope this is worth the wait. Let me know if I miss anything or which part that doesn't make sense and I'll re-edit quickly! Thank you so much for your patience! And also, I have added the names of you guys having two friends. Just in case you get mixed if you thought they were part of the COD universe. Thank you! And enjoy!

Words: 3376

Halloween is tonight and everyone in town is busy preparing for this fun event. The mayor in town had already planned on making the best Halloween Festival YET!

There will be some foods, drinks, games, fun rides-

EVERYTHING that is on the list. And you were quite excited!

You even volunteered to help out with the food vendor. Along with your friends as well.

You were in charge of the food as you made sure that the orders will be delivered on that exact date in time. And you also offered your own cooking and baking for the little kids. The leaders of the committees agreed to it and will send someone to deliver EVERYTHING that you needed for the food preparation.

Which you don’t mind. So you and your friends are at the big hall, in the kitchen, busy cooking.

“This is SO exciting!” One of your friends said in a chirpy tone while putting the pans of cupcakes and a pan of cake into the oven. “This will be the BEST festival yet!”

The other friend of yours nodded as she agreed. “Yeah! And hopefully it’ll be better than LAST year.”

You just smiled at your two friends, who are named Rebecca and Sally, talking about the festival. You started to cook some nice meals for the special events before giving a taste test.

“Hey, what are you gonna wear for Halloween? I’m going to be that sexy vampire!”

“Mine is just being a witch. I’m also bringing that big cauldron for apple bobbing!”

You gave them a smile before hearing them asking you what you’re going to wear. You shook your head as you went back to cooking. “I don’t have anything to wear for the festival. Just casual clothes.”

“WHAT?!?” The two friends of yours had made that horror expression as if they received the news of someone DYING.

Rebecca had started to walk over to you as she stood next to you. “What do you mean you have nothing to wear for the festival? Come on! It’ll be so cool and cute of you wearing SOMETHING!”

You just shrugged at them. “I wanted to. Really. But to tell you the truth. I didn’t have time to look for one. I was SO busy getting everything ready before tonight. So for this year only, I’m not gonna wear anything.”

The two best friends looked at each other before looking back at you with an unsatisfying look.

Sally had walked up towards you before gently taking your cooking ware away from your hands. Which you looked at her with a confusing look.

“Girl! You can’t just leave us hanging with the costume! We’ll help you to get one!”

The other one nodded with agreement as she smiled at you. “Yeah! You can worry about the food while the two of us find you a GOOD looking outfit!”

You shook your head as a small smile appeared on your lips. “No no no. It’s okay. I’ll just pass this year. Promise. I know how much you girls wanted all of us three dressing up! But please understand that I’ve been busy preparing all of this.”

The two girls pouted but sigh in defeat when you bring up your reason.

Rebecca shrugged a bit. “Fine. But NEXT year, if you’re busy then let us know. We can help you pick your outfit!”

Sally nodded in agreement. “Yes! Promise us that!”

You just giggled but agreed with the girls. “Promise!”

While the three of you continued cooking and baking, you heard a knock from the entrance in the front door.

“Special delivery!” A heavy Scottish accent called out through the door.

You walked over to open it and saw it was a young man. He seems to look like in his late 20s and has a mohawk on his head. Wait, a mohawk?

“Good day to ye, lass! Here to drop off these boxes of flour, butter, some seasoning and some fruits? Are you the one who orderit?” He asked with a genuine smile as you smiled back at him.

You nodded in response before stepping aside. “Yes! You can go ahead, bring it in and head to the back. The kitchen is right in there.”

He nodded before walking in. And then you saw someone else followed behind him with another box in hand. Another young man who has a cap on his head with a UK flag on it. He also looks like in his late 20s. The man gave his charming smile to you as he nodded in greetings.

“Ma’am.”

You smiled and nodded back before watching him following the man who was in front.

And then to your surprise, you saw another man. A man who is taller than the first two that came in. A brown short hair, with brown eyes and is also wearing a black mask covering his mouth and nose. He looked down on you, seeing you with quite a surprising look.

“Madame.” His deep British accent had softly gone through your ears. As you weren’t expecting to hear that kind of tone.

You slowly nodded at him and watched him pass by as he followed the other two into the kitchen. You quickly follow as well before peeking inside to see your two best friends are talking with the two boys. It seems like that man with a mohawk was flirting with Sally while the man in the cap was just talking with Rebecca.

You just smiled a bit to see them getting along so quickly. So you stepped inside as you saw the tall man putting the boxes down on the floor. You were staring at him for a bit as you took a good look at him.

He stood up and looked at his buddies as he started to tell them to stop flirting.

You smiled a bit to see the two boys were just being embarrassed of how that dark brown hair man was calling them off. Before you noticed him looking in your way.

“Sorry ‘bout those two. They can be VERY addicted to seeing pretty ladies. Mostly my very dumb friend named Johnny over there.” He said as he pointed at the guy with a mohawk behind him.

You giggled to hear the mohawk man calling out to him.

“OI! I am NOT dumb!”

“You are. With your LAME pick up line.”

“Like you can do any better, Si?”

“I can do 10 times BETTER than your corny ass line.”

You couldn’t help but giggle so much and even your two friends also started giggling and laughing with you. While the man with the cap just sighs and shakes his head before walking over to stop the two.

“Hey hey hey! Not in front of the ladies. That’s a very bad first impression AND bad luck, you know?” He turned to face you and your friends as he started to rub behind his head. “Apologies ladies, we’ll be heading out now.”

Rebecca looked saddened all of a sudden when he said that. “Aaaaw…already?”

He smiled a bit at her and nodded. “Yeah. We still got more deliveries to take care of.”

The two girls looked sad to hear that they’re going to leave. Until that man named Johnny had an idea.

“Hey! I know that we just met. But the boys and I are free tonight. Do you want to join us?”

You glanced to see the girls were looking excited as you smiled a bit. So you looked at him and shook your head. “Sorry. I’m a bit busy tonight since I’ll be serving the food.” Then you started to walk towards your girlfriends as you placed both of your arms around their shoulders each. “Buuuuuuuut my friends are available tonight. Right girls?”

The two ladies looked at you in shock as you had lost your MIND.

“Uuuh…WHAT are you doing?” Sally whispers to you.

“Yeah, don’t you need our help? There will be LOTS of people coming to your booth.” Rebecca also whispered to you as she agreed with her friend.

Which she is not wrong. Yes, there will be BUNCH of people coming over for food but you handle this before. You're sure that you’re okay with this and it is fine for your two friends to have some fun!

So you started to whisper to them back. “Don’t worry! I got this! You two can go ahead and CHARM your way with these boys while I’ll handle the booth.” You gave them a reassuring smile and a wink. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

The two girls looked at each other again but with more worried looks on their faces. As they could see your warm smile, telling them that it’s alright, they finally gave in and turned to look at the boys.

“Yeah! We’re available!” Sally said as she smiled at Johnny.

The mohawk man smiled at her with glee. “Awesome! We’ll see you tonight at…?”

You raised your hand a bit. “Our booth will be next to the Ferris Wheel! You’ll meet them there!”

The man with the cap nodded and smiled at them. “Alright then, we’ll be there and…are you sure you don’t want to come?” He asked you as you can see that he’s feeling a bit bad.

You nodded as you gave him a thumbs up. “Sure I’m sure! Someone HAS to take care of the food booth!”

He smiled a bit as he nodded and tipped his cap. “Alright then and also, I apologize for not introducing ourselves. I’m Kyle. Kyle Garrick. But most of them call me Gaz.” Then he put his arm around his friend’s shoulders before patting his chest. “This is John MacTavish.”

He nodded at you and the girls. “You can call me, Soap.”

Sally snickered when she heard that name. “Soap? Why do they call you that?”

“Aye, cause I cleaned up nicely.” He said with a wink.

“Not with your room you’re not.” The tall man with the mask had said while rolling his eyes.

“OI! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS CRITICIZE ME WHENEVER I TRY TO TALK TO A LASS?!?”

“Just trying to save her from going out with a dumb Scots like you.”

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING DUMB?!?”

Everyone started to laugh before settling down as the girls introduced themselves to them before exchanging phone numbers with the two boys. But your eyes had caught onto the tall man who was just looking at the four.

You slowly crossed your arms while rocking back and forth a little on your feet. Before looking at him. “So um…what’s YOUR name?”

He glanced down at you. Looking at you for a good minute before he looked back at his friends and yours. “Simon. Simon Riley.”

“Are you also dressing up for tonight?”

He shook his head. “Not into these Halloween things. Just want to walk around the festival. So I don’t think I’ll be going with those guys. Might make me a 5th wheel with them.” You giggled at that last response. “Ah. I see. Well, if you want. You can hang out with me at the food booth if you’re not going with them. Buuuuut I might be busy.”

He shrugged a bit as he looked at you with his brown eyes. “I don’t mind.”

You couldn’t help but find his eyes a bit intimidating but yet quite kind at the same time.

So they all agreed that they’ll meet at the food booth.

—-----------------------------------------------

Tonight is the night of Halloween. And every child in town is running around, taking a look at these fun events. Along with their friends and families.

While you and the girls on the other hand were REALLY busy selling those goodies that you guys have made. Everyone really enjoys your cooking and baking goods. Not a single person has been missed with their orders.

After a few while, the crowds had started to die down a bit. Which you three had FINALLY taken a break for a while.

“Damn…It almost feels like you have put a magic charm on these foods! I mean, did you SEE how many people just came?” Rebecca, who is dressed as a Witch, said with an exhaustion tone in her voice as she leaned back against the counter.

“I KNOW! Fuck man…what is your secret recipe though?” Sally, who is dressed as a Vampire, asked as she looked at you. “The whole TOWN can’t stop buying these!”

You smiled tiredly as you giggled lightly from your friend's compliment. “Well, I do want the people to ENJOY it. And it’s no secret at all! Just a bit of love and viola!”

The two girls just look at each other with an unamused look and look back at you while crossing their arms.

“Bullshits.” They said in unison before laughing with you.

Then you noticed the three boys that you’ve met earlier this morning had walked over.

“Good evening ladies. Don’t you look extravagant.” Kyle, who is dressed up as a wizard, said with a smile to see the three of you. Before he looked over to Rebecca seeing that she’s a Witch. “Ah. I see that you’re ALSO a magical person here.”

Rebecca just giggled. “Indeed I am, my pretty! But we ALL know that a Witch has the powerful potential of cursing anyone in her path!” Saying in her witch voice as she cackled with laughter.

The two just laughed at this.

Soap, who dressed up as a werewolf, then just smirked to see Sally in her Vampire costume. “Awooo~ A vampire is ya?~ Micht wanna be careful with me, lass. Ye know how vampire an werewolf are~”

Sally smirked back at this Scottish werewolf man before leaning in as she poke his chest. “Oh I know~ And I’ll take the risk~”

You rolled your eyes as you saw the two flirting before seeing Simon looking at you. You smiled at him before waving at him softly seeing him just wearing his black hoodie and blue jeans with shoes on.

He waved back a bit before seeing Gaz was nudging his arm. He just rolled his eyes seeing his smirk before walking up to you. He took a look around your booth before leaning on the counter. “Not too shabby. How’s the business going?”

You just smiled while still prepping the food and desserts into the display case. “It went VERY well. And I see you’re not wearing anything?”

“Like I said, not into these Halloween things.”

Before you two continued to talk, you felt a hand on your shoulder as you saw it was Rebecca.

“Okay! We’re gonna go! Now, are you SURE you can handle this? We can still stay.”

You nodded at her before touching her hand. “I’ll be okay. Besides, I have my extra helper over here!” You pointed at Simon.

Your friend saw him nodding at her as she smiled a bit before calling out to him. “Try to help her out will ya?”

Simon just nodded as a response and gave a thumbs up.

Soon the four already walked away. Leaving only you and Simon alone. The two of you don't talk much except just making and selling your food.

Simon was busy mixing the batter before taking a glance at you. You were just giving out some candies to the trick-or-treaters and handing them a bag of goodies. Seeing your sweet smile had really caught his eyes for some reason.

Why does he feel that towards you? You two just met and he also doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable either. He looked back at what he was doing before you finished giving the kids their treats.

You had started to bring out another tray of desserts before looking at Simon. “Hey, you wanna taste this?”

The tall man looked at your direction, seeing you showing the cupcake in your hand. He stopped what he was doing and started to walk over to you. You watched him take it as he pulled his mask down a bit before he took a bite. You were curious about why he was wearing that mask but judging by how quiet he was. You know that he doesn’t want to talk about it which you understand.

“So? How was it?” You asked him with a warm smile feeling excited of how he’ll respond to your baking expertise. But you saw him paused for a moment and he just withdrew the cupcake away from his lips as he stared at it for a bit. “Simon?”

He kept staring at the cupcake for a while as if something had made him feel...familiarize with this dessert. Soon he snapped out when you gently touched his arm. You gave him a worried look as he cleared his throat and pulled his mask back up. “Sorry, your cupcake is delicious. I bet the REST of your desserts are wonderful as well.”

You slowly nodded as you appreciated his words but you still felt a bit concerned for him. “Thank you…but are you alright, Simon?”

The British man was silenced as he kept staring at the cupcake before putting it down. “I’m alright. Just…remembered something.”

“Oh? What is it that you remembered?”

Simon was just looking at you with a loud silence between the both of you. The sound of people chattering and the children’s laughter had clouded out of your hearings. You know something that he wanted to share but is too afraid to even speak. So you just slowly walked over and stood in front of this man.

“Simon?”

“......I don’t want to bore you. And also, it’s just a burden that I have to carry.”

“Do you…wish to talk about it?”

“...No.”

You just gave him a small reassuring smile before taking his cupcake and gave it to him. “Then we don’t have to talk about it. Since I know we just met but I am here to listen.”

Simon had seen you handing his cupcake as he accepted and just stared at it. He sighed before starting to speak. “Your cooking…reminded me of someone that I know so close.”

You just nodded to let him continue.

“She had always made me great treats and it was…delicious.” He said softly before pulling his mask down again and took another bite from the cupcake. He proceeds on talking with you. “That’s all I could tell you. The rest…it’s for me to bear.”

You understood what he was saying and that last sentence had made you feel even MORE sympathy for him. “Of course, I understand. But…it will be better for you to let something out of your chest.” Then you place your hand on his back as you could see him looking at you with his brown eyes.

Damn. You can’t even help but to feel mesmerized by his brown eyes. You cleared your throat as you glanced away. “IF you’re ready to talk about it I mean.”

The two of you were just standing there in silence before you saw Simon was just staring at the cupcake. You then had an idea as you grabbed another cupcake for yourself.

“Hey, I’ll make you a deal. It’s not that kind of deal of you TALKING your problems to me.”

You saw that you caught his attention when he looked at you again.

“And that is what?”

“I can make you any kind of treats or food that someone of yours can make. IF you helped me to make some great buffet for thanksgiving next month.”

Simon just blinked at you when he listened to your offer. He started to chuckle deeply. “Oh love, I don’t know if your cooking skills are HALF as good as someone that I know of.”

You huffed as you crossed your arms. You’re going to make him EAT those words. “I can! And I will! Would you accept these deals?” You started to extend your hands towards him to shake on.

He looked at your hand and then looked at your eyes. He could see that you’re determined to make this for him. He sighed and reached his hand out and shook on yours. “Deal.”

You smiled as you nodded at him. “Alright then! Shall we begin discussing the food that you require?”

THE END

Tagging List: Opt In/Out

@pricescigar @justasmolbard @alypink @dirtfullofwork

@kaitaiga @deeptrashwitch @sweet-samnang @welldonekhushi

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x you #ghost x reader #reader x ghost #reader x canon #canon x reader #simon riley x reader #farmer ghost #farmer reader

70 notes · View notes

alarajrogers · 3 days ago

Text

God, yeah, what happened to all the Loki fans? Not slavering over this because Loki's not woobie enough in it?

Guys, if you like:

hot bisexual poet dudes

hot transgender Viking witches

badass women

badass old women

supportive and still very manly men

m/f/f threesomes

werewolves who are more than a little crazy

the Vanir

LOKI BEING A RAT BASTARD AND YET INCREDIBLY SYMPATHETIC DESPITE THAT

...you really need to watch Twilight of the Gods. Yes, Zack Snyder. Yes, I know. Sorry. Sometimes a guy known for his bullshit actually pulls his head out of his ass and makes something great. Seth MacFarlane did it with The Orville.

This is the first adaptation of Ragnarok I've seen where:

Baldr actually gets to be a character, that you like, not a cipher with "Everybody Loves Me" drawn on his face

Thor and Odin are villains but appropriately complex ones

Loki. Oh, man, Loki. Loki being the lying, cheating snake he always is and yet he's doing it all to try to save his kids. He identifies as the scapegoat. He deliberately tells a man who's having a breakdown about his past crimes that he, Loki, is basically the Devil, whispering in people's ears to tempt them to dark deeds... and then the guy figures out, afterward, that this was a lie to keep him (the guy who committed said past crimes and was having a breakdown over it) moving in a dangerous place. He's your best friend and then he murders your other best friend. Who was trying to kill him for revenge. He very likely engineered the very events that he has promised you revenge for. He loves his kids more than the entire world and he will literally burn the world to try to save them.

They acknowledge that the entire story of Ragnarok was Pastede On Yay by the Christians and that Jesus Christ on the cross was the story that supplanted and overtook Odin who hung on a tree for nine days. Ragnarok is explicitly tied to the Christianization of the Norse culture. The people who have suffered at the hands of the gods see this coming as a good thing. We all know it ain't necessarily so.

Freya, exchanged to the Aesir by the Vanir in order to keep the peace, gets to hate the Aesir for it and scheme against them. And to be super pissed that the Aesir keep offering her as a concubine in their deals.

We meet the Vanir. They're really cool.

The story admits Sleipnir happened. And while the humans giggle and make fun of Loki, Loki himself walks proud with his eight-legged horse son and shows no sign of shame.

Did I mention Loki being a lying deceitful snake who makes your heart break with how much he's been hurt and is still hurting?

This is actual Norse mythology, not the Marvel version of it. Thor has a little bit of nobility and honor to him, but mostly he's a thug who murders innocent people because he glories in it and he won't tolerate people not fearing him. Odin is powerful and wise and numinous and also an asshole and also absolutely does not see his doom coming despite the fact that he sees his doom coming.

And Sigrid and Leif. I haven't felt so hard for a canon m/f couple in, my god, at least a decade if not longer. They love each other so much, and they make each other stronger, and they also do asshole things to each other and frequently it's to "save" the other from something the other does not want to be saved from.

Zack Snyders new adult animation netflix show, Twilight of the Gods is so fucking amazing. I adore it so much, and watched the whole show in one sitting and might do so again either tonight or tomorrow. But it's so fucking good and I wanna talk with people about it

(I love Ulfr so much, nothing can make me hate a werewolf/ulfhednar, not even if he is maybe possibly a cannibal)

#twilight of the gods

324 notes · View notes

porcupine-girl · 3 days ago

Text

Dear Principled Third-Party or Non-Voter,

This is one last-ditch effort to reach out to you. I understand that you want the Democrats to move left, and you think that voting third party will do that. I fully understand this because I felt the same way in 2000!

I voted for Ralph Nader because even though Al Gore did a whole documentary about climate change, I thought the Democrats overall didn’t care about the environment enough. Plus he wanted exoneration for drug-related non-violent crimes and all sorts of other things that I thought the Democrats should be pushing for. I didn’t really think Nader could win, and didn’t even particularly think he should win-I wanted to send a message. To tell the Democrats “hey, I may only be 21, but I’m onto you and I think your platform should be more like this guy’s.”

So. What happened? Bush got elected. And here’s the real point:

Did losing due to people voting for Nader push the Democrats left?

Well, if it had, you’d probably be planning to vote for them this year.

Now, maybe, maybe there was a chance that it could have done that. But then 9/11 happened less than a year into Bush’s term, and suddenly they’re dealing with terrorists and war, and an American public that veered to the right* - they did not have the time, energy, or resources to think about the far left, plus it was no longer advantageous in an election.

“But that was 9/11!” you cry. “That was a major historical event that hasn’t been repeated! We won’t have another 9/11!”

Well, maybe not (and the pandemic, while a major historical event, had entirely different effects). But the thing is, if Trump wins, it’s basically 24/7 9/11 mode for the next four years.

Do you actually remember the Trump years?

Democrats were NOT busy moving left. No, they were busy constantly scrambling to mitigate the worst of him.

Talking John McCain (who, remember, IS DEAD NOW and cannot repeat this act) into voting with them so the ACA didn’t get repealed. Trying to get the impeachment for intimidating and blackmailing our ally to stick. Filibustering (unsuccessfully) the appointment of Jeff Sessions as Attorney General, to try and prevent him from doing all the shit he did.

THAT is what you will get if Trump wins, only with event more crazy MAGA sycophants in Congress than last time. Democrats won’t be going “oh gosh, we could’ve picked up 1% of 18-35-year-olds if we’d taken a stand on Palestine,” they’ll be too busy going OH FUCK HOW DO WE KEEP TRUMP FROM TALKING NETANYAHU INTO LITERALLY NUKING GAZA????

So please please please, on behalf of all the Nader voters whose third-party votes did absolutely fuck-all to move a party that was trying to deal with Bush, don’t repeat our mistake.

If for no other reason than the fact that if Trump does win, there is absolutely no way you will get what you want. While if Harris wins, it will be much easier to push the Dems left - Biden has been pushed left on several issues!

* Fun fact from a psychology professor [me]: When people are scared they tend to agree with more conservative points of view than when they’re not scared! This is one reason things like terrorist attacks and wars tend to gain votes for conservatives.

#vote vote vote #2024 election #politics

84 notes · View notes

nevertheless-moving · 3 days ago

Text

MDZS AU #7: Jiang Wanyin’s Dog

Jiang Cheng & Wei Ying time travel back to the Wen Indoctrination camp.

They didn't ask for this. Wei Wuxian's Happy Ending is gone. Jin Ling's Whole Life is Gone. But no time to unpack any of that, they fight the Xuanwu of Slaughter the day after tomorrow. They have to get on the same page. Their family is alive again. They have to get this right.

Last time around, Wei Ying created distance between his actions and Jiang Cheng’s orders.

(Partially in order to excuse his shidi from blame when he did something grotesque or anti-establishment or unsuccessful. Partially to obscure which orders he physically couldn't follow. Partially because his mental health was truly, exceptionally bad — he distanced himself from lots of things!)

It could be argued that this strategy didn’t pan out super well, in the end. Not a very fun conclusion.

And the reasons for that distance don't exist anymore considering 1) Jiang Sect is un-massacred and can properly throw their weight around to shield their terrifying unorthodox disciple from backlash when he does terrifying unorthodox things. 2) Wei Ying doesn’t have a golden core shaped secret to hide from Jiang Cheng. Wei Ying has less secrets from Jiang Cheng then he’s ever had.

(Mental health could be better, but it also could be a lot worse)

So they come up with a different plan, whispering furiously under Wen guard, bedrolls pressed close together, cheeks still holding a little babyfat.

Wei Wuxian will be the perfect servant in public, obeying his gongzi’s orders without question. In exchange Jiang Wanyin won’t order him to do anything he wouldn’t want to do anyway. Wei Wuxian will still get to do all his stupid heroics — he just has to wait for the go ahead, to provide the undeniable impression of perfect unity. Jiang Wanyin will give that go ahead, even if it has to be through gritted teeth.

Bear with me now: this leads to a gradual yungmeng bros reconciliation. Basically the emotional equivalent of tensing a muscles as hard as you can on purpose so that when you relax it, the background strain also releases a bit.

To start — Wei Wuxian is the new core melting hand, except even scarier.

Did you hear he summoned an ARMY of the damned to protect Lotus Pier?? And that the only one who he listens to is Jiang Wanyin? Apparently Jiang Wanyin confronted Wen Chao over using human sacrifices, and when Wen Chao threatened him, Jiang Wanyin gave the word and Wei Wuxian killed a hundred Wen AND the Xuanwu of Slaughter!!! Did you hear he ripped Wen Zhuliu heart out of his chest?? What a terrfying head disciple! How long has Jiang sect been hiding this??

The two really, really have to work together, very consistently, without hiccups, and as much practice as they have fighting this specific war together, they also have hella baggage and different priorities and Wei Ying is NOT keeping up the Super Serious Servant act in private.

(they can’t speed run, alright? Wen Chao's early death and the Jiang Sect surviving pretty fundamentally alter following events, rendering specific future knowledge less useful. Not to mention, it takes time for Wei Wuxian to figure out how to balance his golden core with massive amounts of resentful energy. He's got qi to deviate, and there's a good few months where they're fairly sure he's driving himself into an even faster grave than his first life. I mean he figures it out, he's a fucking genius. But early on there's a non zero amount of bleeding from the eyes and running into bushes to puke blood while Jiang Cheng pretends that he's only stressed about this for purely pragmatic reasons.)

So daily private meetings to debrief and strategize and yell at each other and maybe horse around a little. It's the only time they get to step back from the terrifying teenage war leaders thing and be a more raw, complex version of themselves. Getting back in sync after everything. Maybe getting in sync for the first time — how much of their childhood were they dancing around issues of worth and place? How many of their worst arguments stemmed from one giant secret?

Jiang Cheng making progress on his Wuxian shaped self-esteem issues largely by faking it-till-he-makes it.

“You think I feel embarrassed to be second best to my own disciple. What, are you fucking stupid?? How do you compare to him, huh? He’s going to ascend to be a death god or some shit like that. It’s a ridiculous comparison — I’d like to see how you would have done, growing up his shidi. Grow up and fuck off.”

Say stuff like that enough times and you might… actually start to believe it. Huh.

Both of them somewhat expecting cocky, mouthy Wei Wuxian to bristle more about the subservience thing, but honestly? It's cool.

For years, supporting Jiang Cheng was the only thing Wei Ying truly wanted. Yes, he wants other things now too, but Wei Ying still wants to follow Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng is good at politics, at leadership. He rebuilt his sect back to greatness from the ground up. Wei Wuxian's 'leading a sect' experience culminated in being feared by the world and slowly starving to death on an all radish diet. (yes, obviously, there were extenuating circumstances, but regardless — I don't think leading anything larger than a night hunt is on Wei Ying's to do list).

Jiang Cheng expecting criticism in private and not getting it. Waiting all day to be torn apart for his fuckups by an unfiltered Wei Wuxian, only to instead be praised for his battlefield calls and handling of difficult negotiations.

He was a sect leader for two decades— his stupid shixiong's approval should not be able to affect him like this.

The thing is, Wei Wuxian's got effective free reign on his areas of interest — protecting people he wants to protect, inventing, and fighting people he wants to fight. Wei Wuxian has bountiful self esteem. It's annoying to not say whatever he wants whenever he wants, to bow that low, to mind his titles, to walk five steps behind, but it doesn't actually make him feel bad.

Once they’re eating A-Li’s soup … and it sinks in that their parents, their sect, their sister is alive… and they're drunk crying together... and they really really really did miss this, having someone who got their jokes, who could distinguish between their mock outrage and real fury…

Reconciliation starts completely in private but frankly enough time of Wei Wuxian Perfect Discipleing in public? Jiang Cheng is like… ok I thought I wanted this... but its actually not my kink. Please push back when the Jin start talking shit. I’m so, so tired. I've been tired longer than you've been alive. I don't want to reserve all my amusement for hidden moments any more.

Almost seamless public facing transition from ‘rabid dog on a short chain’ swinging to ‘my good right hand.’ Wei Wuxian gets to start being a little shit again in public, but he reigns it in quickly at Jiang Cheng's signal, and teasing A-Cheng stays private. Honestly — a boundary that might have helped them a lot in their first life!

As a result of gaslighting people that however they act that day is how they've always acted, most people are left with the general impression of Wei Wuxian as ‘trusted loyal hound,' who also happens to be absolutely fucking terrifying. Which. Isn’t exactly wrong so, fuck it, fine. Wei Ying honestly could not give less fucks about 99.9% of people’s opinions.

...Lan Zhan is living a dark romance novel, but that's a different post.

My MDZS AU Masterlist

#the larger Jiang family reaction to and place in all this is also a separate post #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #yunmeng bros #my au #mdzs au #mdzs au no 7 #time travel

36 notes · View notes

wreckrinho · 2 days ago

Note

You got be kidding me… YOU GOT BE KIDDING ME?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!😭

But seriously I love Cosmo Angst but, this?! THIS?!

I did not expect someone like you to do something like that!

Is Anti Cosmo really that stupid like his son?!

I mean if Cosmo die, he will die! He is Cosmo’s Anit fairy after all!

How heck did Cosmo got caught?!

Where is Wanda?! Is she okay?! I need to see her reaction about her husband that had disappeared!

Poor Wanda, i couldn’t imagine her suffering and looking around but couldn’t find anywhere!

We need to see Peri too! How poor and worrying he is too!

Is Hazel okay?! I hope she didn’t got hurt or something cause she’s his Godchild!

I’m bet all Cosmo has on his mind is his wife and son! Ugh…,😭

I had wanted do Cosmo Angst AU but I couldn’t think of one…

But this…. Wow…

OH MMYYY????? HEHE!!!... uhhh...what do you mean "someone like me"!?!?!? >:( im getting kinda offended here, buddy!!!/j

And oh..Anti-Cosmo, Anti-Cosmo is not stupid, but he was very slow in this regard. How could he have imagined? Anti-Cosmo knew that Cosmo would have, sooner or later, a magical backup... but he didn't imagine it would be so fast. Now, he can't stop reading books on the subject thinking about HOW this happened...the poor puppeteer knows that if the puppet dies his show will end too. He is afraid of dying for the first time in his life.

and about how cosmo was captured? oh you will all see that in the next comic!!

And now about wanda...?? Uh...shes fucking dying from the inside if im being honest-- Her life has become stressful, she can barely use her magic since Cosmo is SO far away from her. She misses her husband, she misses his hugs, his loving kisses... The only thing she can think about is if Cosmo is okay. The stress has become so much that her crown is slowly cracking.

And Peri???? Uhhh...omg---

Peri can't be so present in the search for his father, because unfortunately all the events of the AU take place a few weeks after the end of the first season of Fairly Oddparents A New Wish and he is very sick, still recovering from the extreme magical Backup he had. But Peri is simply destroyed inside because of the news... Wanda tried to make the story lighter, but Peri is completely desperate about his lost father.

...and i think all of you can guess how hazel is, huh?

Shes desperate about it. She wants to help as much as possible, but she can't! She's not hurt or anything... At first everyone thought Cosmo had just gotten lost until 1 day passed... then 2... then 5 days... It's been 2 weeks since Cosmo disappeared.

All that goes through Cosmo's head is his family in fact!!!!... Wanda, Peri, Hazel... he can't think about anything else. Sometimes he dissociates while Anti-Cosmo is controlling him and Cosmo only thinks about his family...Sometimes he doesn't even care about what AC is capable of doing to him, he just wants to go home.

BUT OMG TYSM FOR THIS ASK!!!! THIS WAS SOOO FUN!?!? HAHA I DID NOOOOT EXPECT SUCH A BIG ASK!!!!?!?!/POS!!!!!!!!

28 notes · View notes

bookshopsbizarreblog · 3 days ago

Text

Hi there! Long time political roleplayer here! It's really quite simple. Think of it like mock government. A whole bunch of users sit around and debate politics, with a faux-govermnent structure providing a unifying narrative to the debates.

For example, the rp I moderated, the United Parties of Discord (UPoD), was heavily modeled on the US Government. There was a presidency, a bicameral Congress, and a judicial system. Every four weeks equated to a year, and so we would have election seasons where people wrote about their policies, held debates, went on our player-run news channels for interviews, politicked with opposition leaders and undecided individuals, and tried to get the largest number of votes for themself.

Once the votes were tallied, the people voted in would gain access to the relevant channels (i.e. senate debate floor, oval office, Department of the Treasury), and had the ability to write and amend and vote on and veto and pass legislation, depending on their roles. The president could appoint other members to cabinet positions who had to be approved by Congress, and they could bring in staffers, and overall a good chunk of the active users had some roll either within government or the various party/news/activist organizations. All put together and run by the players.

That is just one model, however. I've encountered a number during my time. One of the things that made UPoD unique was that it was entirely based around political parties. Any user could start a political party if they could get 7 total members to agree to a unified platform, at which point they'd get their own channels for inter-party communication. Parties could send 1 person to the House of Representatives per 3 or 4 members they had (varied as the server grew), and the Senate was made up of party leaders. All of the parties could come together into broader coalitions with their own channels, and reacted to the news stories and events created by the mods to give more stakes and tension to the world.

There are others that run around pre-determined states, where each one has its own smaller government and users pick which state to join. Yet others have distinct kingdoms, with users either joining or founding their own kingdoms that can each have internal politics, international relation, wage wars, promote tech, and fracture when drama or succession crises split them. One that I haven't been active in, The Independent Order (TIO), has a dedicated website with a bunch of chatrooms. Each player founds their own nation, with as much lore as they care to give it, and then takes the place of a noble or president on the world stage. Instead of focusing on internal politics, that are entirely user determined (each player basically writes the story line for their own nation's progress), it's all trade negotiations and press releases and soirees.

As for the video, while I haven't watched it yet, the thumbnail hardly surprises me. I have known a lot of real crazies in my time in political RP. I semi-regularly joke that normal people don't get involved in discord faux politics. The amount of dedication and drama, the number of unhinged personalities, everyone constantly doing a social dance they try to get more power and spread their influence over each other... it can be exhausting and exhilarating. People cling to whatever edge they can get.

I've seen elections with more than 20% bots, sock puppets brought in en masse to fluff party membership counts and infiltrate rival parties, all manner of manufactured drama, attempted takeovers from other servers, friendships form and fracture as egos clash. I've dealt with some of the edgiest teen ideologues imaginable, an actively genocidal fascist middle aged mom (she was permabanned), undiagnosed neurodivergent college students with far too much time and emotional investment poured into it (I was one), an honest to god Libertarian candidate running for their party nomination (that was a fun debate), and so much more.

One person creating a network of sock puppets to rig things in his favor sounds pretty par for the course. I know a few people who tried. They just sucked at it.

One day you're working on videos on autoplay and another you watch a 50 minutes videos of how a user faked a democracy for discord political roleplay for 3 years and it's impact on the citizens and neighboring nations

Also the author of a book (related, don't ask) got a cease and desist from the united Nations and proceeded to change the name of it on april's fools

413 notes · View notes

acourtofthought · 13 hours ago

Note

Out of Elucien and Gwynriel, who do you think is more likely to have their story told next, and why?

I just want to preface this by saying Sarah could absolutely write either pairing first. Only she knows what her 5 year (10 year??) plan is for this series and whether Koschei is supposed to be a bigger bad than he currently seems or whether she's going to introduce an even worse villain that she'll tie into different crossover plots. All that could make a difference in who is getting the next book.

With that said........

I think Elucien makes the most sense. First they are both more strongly connected to the current ACOTAR plots. At the end of SF they were worried about Beron, Koschei, those on the continent not signing the peace treaty, the issues in Spring.

To date, neither Bloomsbury or Sarah has ever made the announcement that you need to read the CC series to understand the next ACOTAR book. Even if they did it wouldn't make a lot of sense because most casual readers don't follow Sarah or Bloomsbury therefore they'd have no way to know what order you needed to read the series in. To me, that logically means the events of HOFAS cannot kick off the next ACOTAR book and truth be told, the ending of HOFAS didn't actually leave us with an actual plot that needs resolved. There were hints of what might come but the characters were not left thinking, "this is a threat to our world right now and we need to deal with it." Especially not when they already have more pressing threats to their world, the ones that were introduced in ACOWAR, the novella and SF.

Second, Elain and Lucien have been waiting a very long time for the resolution to their mating bond / love story. It's not that Sarah can't dive into a Gwynriel romance but I'm not sure their romance is more of a story right now. There's no real tension between them that needs resolved, they're in the baby stages of things. It's a beautiful place for them to be of course, it's fun to see them beginning to interact but I think it would be odd for Az to go from lusting after Mor, wanting to go down on Elain then end up mated to / in love with Gwyn all within the same year. I think Az could use a bit of time where he's removed from his centuries of pining for unattainable women to focus on his issues alone so that he's the right kind of love interest for Gwyn. And where Gwyn has a little more time to explore the world outside of the library, where she's not going from leaving it for the first time in two years to being mated to Az that same year. (Girl deserves to see what else is out there and make Az sweat a bit).

But Elain and Lucien? Their will they / won't they has been a major theme in the series since book 2 and not only for them but for all the characters. Feyre and Nesta struggled with the realization of the Elucien bond then finally came around to it. Az can't stand the scent of their bond, Cassian feels sad for Lucien's longing over his bond, Rhys is worried about the ramifications of Az trying to dick Lucien over because of the Elucien bond. To me, it's not something that can really continue lingering on in the background without resolution, not when every single character is talking about it / thinking about it. Not the way Gwynriel's romance could easily take a backseat and Sarah could give it a little more time to cook, add a little more drama to their setup.

With that said, I'm not Sarah so I have no idea if her thoughts are similar to my thoughts!

#lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elucien #elucien #acotar 5 #elucien bond

18 notes · View notes

crystallizsch · 4 months ago

Text

“Hm... ‘Prince Jamil Viper’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

[ -> GROOVY VOICE LINES UNLOCKED!!! <- ] Glimmering Soirée (fan event by @starry-night-rose)

Home Idle - Groovy: I should enjoy myself. It’s not every day I get the opportunity to feel… catered to.

Home Tap - Groovy: You’re wondering why I chose to dance with you despite all the others asking me? Haha. Don’t look too much into it.

257 notes · View notes

bacchuschucklefuck · 5 months ago

Text

they tried to rebrand as The Criminals but riz is literally the city council's treasurer and also turns out people in their late 20s don't really name their friend groups. so now they're The Intrepid Heroes

#fantasy high #figueroth faeth #kristen applebees #adaine abernant #gorgug thistlespring #fabian seacaster #riz gukgak #yes this is sorta from the same thing Ive been doing for future!riz lol. that riz is the same design basically #just the above board sona #u can kiiinda tell which of the bad kids I have a very clear vision for their future design and which I kinda wing it for lol #kristen's tank top is white and the coat is galaxy tie dye btw. I didnt have the energy to express that in ink but thats the ult version #adaine I truly imagine to grow up to be the perpetual t shirt and jeans person but she carries her sword everywhere #gorgugs truth is that shes just hot she can wear anything. but I do give him the skirt hike bc I love him #I really like skirt hike... such a fun thing to put in designs. if ur garment has no variance in how it falls or drapes u can do it urself #this is also a little bit of an exercise in how much of an accessory I can freehand from memory #fig's bass I straight up did not fact check for. just rawdogging it memory only. same with fandrangor and adaine's crocs #I did write in my funny little document that gorgug takes up baking and is good at it bc I think itd be good for him #to do basically chemistry and math that also feeds people #out of them... kristen and riz would be Good good at it. but riz would get way too stressed abt the recipe and kristen bakes by #eyeballing the texture. fabian likes decorating but refuses to get anywhere near the heat of an oven. adaine isnt good at it first try #and is like well my effort goes to other things actually. fig Loves baking and Nobody lets her into the kitchen #idk why this manifests so clear in my head. must be bc of recent foccacia events #living in the subtropics is hell for baking nobody try it ok? I tell u

1K notes · View notes

lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days ago

Text

@zepskies

Honestly, your comments always make my day too sweetie 🥰

Totally agree on that's what makes him compelling to write for lol. Because it's such a unique challenge -- how do you create those softer moments for him, and/or character development, but still keep him "as himself." 😅 You did a really great job of it in this chapter, especially with the added dimension of the soulmate aspect!

Thank you!😊 I think it's going to be a lot of fun toeing that line in this series, because I think it's going to be even harder for him to act the way he always does when the reader is literally the other half of his soul. And really vice versa for the reader. She's seen all the things he's done and she's not sure how Ben is her other half. Basically there's gonna be a lot of drama and I love the drama lol

lmfaoo "perplexed" took me out. 🤣 The math is just really not mathing for Ben, is it?

Dude has never been good at math 😂

LOL once you put the idea in my head I could very much see it. The man is a mess. And the fact that he still goes to see her for conjugal visits. 🤣 Ben's "Just rip the bandaid off you fucking pussy" killlled me. Like sir, you'll understand his problem once you actually MEET your soulmate.

LMFAO 🤣

Tbh Bee Movie is more of an "experience" lol. It's basically just Jerry Seinfeld having a fever dream where he's a bee and that bee is in love with a woman. And like most animated movies there are a ton of jokes in there that hit very differently when you're an adult 😳. And most of the time you watch it and cringe at the events that take place and over the dialogue, and constantly ask "who approved this?" 😂

Omg pls, don't break me. 🤣🤣 I'll have to steel myself when that comes. I can only imagine how Ben is going to unintentionally fuck things up.

Girl, it's rough lol 😭😅

Each time I start writing something I think "oh I'll make this super soft and fluffy and cute and everyone who reads it will be happy," and then the writer goblin that lives in my head says " No. Make it more dramatic and angsty." 😭

Chapter 2: I'll Never Let You Go Again Like I Did

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Little bit sad, DENIAL, Homophobic Comments (Soldier Boy), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of using drugs, Sexism, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of torture (Soldier Boy's Time in Russia) Loneliness, Longing (I mean… as close as Soldier Boy can get to it), Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.4K

Song Inspiration For This Chapter: Until I Found You (chapter title is lyric from this song) and Coming Back For You

Note: Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

Playlist for Series (Spotify)

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: Oh my goodness I'm so excited about this series and thank you so much to everyone for all the wonderful love and support so far! It really means the world to me 🥰

One Year Ago: Ben POV

Ben squinted his eyes as he stepped out into the brilliant sunshine of the early morning, shouldering the strap of his worn backpack with a huff. The people on the crowded, gum covered sidewalks shot him odd looks and gave him a wide birth as he made his way down the path, but he didn't care, in fact he didn't notice them. His mind was somewhere else.

He wasn't sure where he was going, just that something in the pit of his stomach was pointing him in this direction. Ben had started walking in what he thought was the way to Legend's apartment, but the streets looked so different than the last time he was in New York and he was a little turned around, but he wasn't going to admit that to anyone.

And there was something in the pit of his stomach, some instinct or gut feeling, that was telling him he needed to go this way.

It was an odd feeling that prickled on the back of his neck, as if he'd forgotten something. Ben wondered what exactly it was that he'd forgotten. He hadn’t spoken aloud to anyone other than the scientists who kept him locked in a cage so he didn’t exactly have a social calendar to follow up on.

I've been locked in a lab for forty fucking years, what is there to forget?

But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed just out of reach.

Ben raised his eyes from the sidewalk with a sigh to look at the people passing by, taking in their new clothing and different hairstyles to distract himself. He frowned at the bizarre groups of people to him that flit by on their merry way, muttering little things under his breath about how things used to be.

Ben had a feeling that he was going to be doing that a lot.

New York City was different, the same, but different. Even though Ben had been gone for forty years, it still felt like the center of the universe. There were still hot dog vendors on every street corner, still magazine stands with freshly printed newspapers that smelled like ink and were warm to the touch, still coffee shops that lined the streets and caffeinated the masses, and there were still cab drivers who wove through traffic as if they were unstoppable shouting at pedestrians as they went.

The memories he had of old New York City merged together with what he was seeing around him and felt himself slipping into the past only to be jolted back into reality by the strangeness of the future.

He didn't like feeling disoriented, but it was there, brimming just under the surface. His body was tense as he walked prepared for anything, unable to relax as he continued on his way to wherever the hell it was he was going.

The morning sunlight reflected off the glass windows of the skyscrapers that worshiped the rising sun and the sounds of the city vibrated against the brick and mortar. There was a buzz of electricity in the air, the low hum of power that Ben could always hear beneath it all. Cars honked sharply, people shouted in colorful language to one another, and the wind rustled through the long strands of Ben's hair crinkling against his ears and scratching against his neck.

He hadn't had time to cut it or his beard and it didn't seem to be as important as finding Legend and getting his affairs in order.

The smell of hotdogs, earth, cologne, and heavy perfume wafted up with the breeze that tugged and pulled at his sweatsuit. The same stained sweatsuit he had found in a rust covered locker before hiding in the cargo hold of a plane headed back to the U.S that was probably almost as old as him. The plane ride had been long, but when he'd been in a lab for the past forty years it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. He spent the whole time stewing in his thoughts. He'd slept enough and like hell he was going to drift off and let those Russian fucks take him again.

Ben sighed when he felt his memories begin to unravel on the edge of his mind, unfurling and asking to be relived. It wasn't unusual or unwelcome. Ben was using those memories to justify what he was going to do to his old team. As long as the rage continued to burn against his skin, Ben would have no problem breaking each of them down piece by piece.

Ben didn't understand how his team could have done that to him or why they'd done it to him. He thought that he'd been a good leader, a good American, a good soldier, a good hero, and yet they'd all stabbed him in the back. Sure, maybe he'd been a little rough on them, but Ben saw it as the only way to toughen them up. They needed thicker skin if they were going to survive in a world like this.

All I've done is give my fucking life to this country and what did they do? They gave me to the fucking reds.

His hand tightens on the strap of his backpack as he weaves through the crowds, trying his best to keep to himself when all he can feel is his anger and frustration building and burning hot under his rib cage. His new power stirred beneath the surface, energy beginning to travel through his body, tracing his veins and pulsing in the center of his chest.

I should have seen it coming. I should have killed that entire fucking bunch of pussies the second I had the chance. Especially that bitch.

His frowned at the thought of Countess.

Truthfully, when the two of them started messing around it was only because Countess's soulmate had died a few years before and Ben knew he wasn't going to meet his soon if anytime. He'd messed around with plenty of other women for the same reason and well…

Ben's frown deepened as he stepped around a couple that was walking arm and arm, the dates on their wrists flashing gold in the sunlight. He ignores the feeling that comes when he sees them, pushes it down into the deep recesses of his mind as he has done his whole life.

Since he was a kid, Ben wasn't sure that he believed the "soulmate thing." Sure he'd seen hundreds of other people around him find "the one," but Ben wasn't sure that he was made to be a soulmate. Especially not with a birthdate on his wrist so far in the future. He assumed that it meant he wasn't going to get a soulmate and he'd spent the better part of his life pretending that he didn't care about that. He was a man after all, and Ben didn't want to need anyone. At least, that was what he told himself.

Ben had lived long enough to see other soulmates find one another, witnessed the goofy looks on their faces when they locked eyes for the first time, and had the super hearing to listen to what came next.

But instead of focusing on the impossibility to meeting his own, Ben focused on the lie he told himself, that it seemed ridiculous to be intertwined with someone as soon as he was born. Not to mention that Ben wasn't sure that he wanted to be with someone, not when he didn't age and not when he'd have to watch whoever it was, if anyone turn to dust.

Yes, he could see himself settling down with someone, having a few kids, but Ben wasn't sure that whoever was supposed to be his other half was within reach anyway so why care? Ben knew that he didn't age, but he didn't actually think he'd ever get to meet you or that you would actually ever exist. Not when you were born so far away from him and not when he'd been trapped in that lab.

But that didn't stop a part of him from thinking about the possibility of meeting you. When things were quiet in the lab and he was left alone for a few precious moments, he felt his mind begin to slip into the question of what if?

What if you existed and what if you came for him?

He knew that it was a long shot. The only people that knew he was there were the people who stabbed him in the back. And Ben didn't want to cling to some fantasy, it felt feminine to fanaticize about the person who was supposedly meant for him breaking down the thick metal door and pulling him from the lab.

Again, Ben was trying not to believe in the "soulmate bullshit."

Countess had been a way of passing the time as had the numerous other women, but with them were moments when he'd feel something odd settle in his chest, something that he never could put a name to. In those moments he would raise his right arm and look at the birthdate printed on his wrist, the same one that Ben had kept hidden for most of his life, the one that when he was a boy people mocked him for, and the one his father chastised him for having as if it was Ben's fault that some celestial body had decided to single him out.

All of his childhood friends had found their soulmates and Ben had spent the better part of his life covering it up to avoid the conversation that always happened when someone saw the date. No ones soulmate was born so far in the future and Ben’s father had spent a lot of money making sure that word didn’t get out his son was a freak.

His father already made Ben feel like a disappointment and a fuck-up, but Ben was already thinking it himself every time he looked at the date printed on his wrist that seemed impossible. When his mother was alive she would try her best to make Ben feel better telling him that it wasn't impossible, that one day it would all make sense, but after her death Ben stopped feeling comfort, joy, and anything warm. All he felt was the cold shoulder from his father and the words that Ben pretended didn't hurt when his father was halfway through his second bottle of scotch with a third prepped and waiting on the kitchen table.

It made Ben feel like a pussy every time he looked at the mark and thought about his future soulmate, but he did it in private, usually after he'd had a few glasses of something and a few puffs or snuffs of something else to numb his mind. And he'd allow himself a single moment to think of you, wonder if he'd ever meet you, and wondered if you'd ever actually exist. In those few fleeting moments he believed in soulmates, but then he'd snap out of it and wake up the woman in bed next to him to distract him for another hour or so.

Ben's eyes flick to his right wrist covered by the gray and maroon tracksuit, his brow furrowing together. He was trying not to think about you or rather the possibility of you today. He didn't have time for that, not when all he wanted was to make his old team pay for everything they did to him.

But there was a little whisper of something in his ear, a small wisp of hope that he had finally made it to you, the one thing he didn’t think would ever happen, that he lived long enough to be alive the same year you were, and that you were out there somewhere waiting for him.

No. Ben tenses. I'm not going to think about her, not when those butt fucks need to be dealt with. I'm going to go to Legend's and then I'm going to-

He didn't see you in front of him until it was too late to move out of the way. Your body hits his full on in the chest, sending the bagel between your lips tumbling into the street, but Ben barely feels the hit, what he does feel is the dam he built forever ago burst open and warmth soaks into his body. Electricity skitters along his skin, crackling in the air as his eyes lock with yours only for a second. He feels like he's caught fire, as if the pieces of himself deep down inside are overheating and vibrating until there's nothing left, but you and him.

Any thoughts he had of his team and revenge are lost in the flood of emotions that fill the hole inside he tried so hard to ignore with the lie he continued to tell himself: “I don't believe in soulmates.”

And yet, there you were.

He can hear his heart and yours beating together as one, his own pounding so hard under his ribcage as if it wishes to break free and cross the space between your bodies. Seeing you for the first time feels like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp jolt backwards when it lands and the pinch of flesh against Kevlar. It was worth the bruise if looking at you was the same way each time.

Ben can feel the world slipping away, going silent, and in that silence Ben is lost in you.

Holy Fuck.

You were the perfect amalgamation of every single beautiful woman that Ben had ever seen and fantasized about in his entire life. And yet you weren't what he was expecting. Over the years Ben had bedded many women, the ones who captured his attention for a night, but none of them were anything like you.

In all the ways those women were bold and dramatic you were confident, but not boisterous, beautiful but not haughty, respectful but not prude, and there was a kindness reflected in the warmth of your eyes that Ben had never seen before, but there it was staring back at him unblinkingly.

You reminded him of the women that came arm in arm with men to his parents lavish parties when he was a boy, the ones who were classically beautiful and reserved with the golden dates on their wrists catching in the light. The exact kind of woman he hadn’t seen for the better part of eighty years and the opposite of the women who had thrown themselves at his feet forty years ago.

Your hair falls forward into your face from the force of your body hitting his and Ben itches to push it back, to touch you, to feel his skin against yours to quench the burning that he can feel in his soul.

All of his instincts are telling him to pull you against him, that you're too far away even though you're standing only inches apart. That he needs to breathe the same air and feel the warmth of your skin against his rough fingertips.

The birthmark on his right wrist sears his skin and he knows what it means, that you're the woman he's been looking for his whole life, the woman that always seemed just out of his grasp, the woman that was made just for him, and the woman he thought would never exist.

He watches your eyes widen with the same realization about him behind your round glasses, eyes that are the perfect color and eyes that Ben can imagine staring in to every day for the rest of his life. He'd never wanted to spend more than one night with a woman, never wanted more, but all of that fades into you.

The idea of a soulmate no longer seems ridiculous, no longer seems like something he’d never have, not when he’s looking into your eyes and nothing else seems to matter.

Not when looking at you is like seeing the sun sink into the earth at the end of the day and feeling the hope that it'll rise the next morning.

The lie he told himself for so long is slipping away the longer he stares at you, because although he never wanted to want anyone he knows that he needs you. It's an odd feeling for him. He's never once cared about anyone, told himself that it was weak to, that having a soulmate was a stupid idea and not for him, but all of the things he ever thought about soulmates is evaporating in the heat that is consuming his body by being in your presence.

Why now?

The thought makes the world come back into sharper focus.

I've lived decades without her and now the moment I come back to the U.S I just run into her?

It was laughable .

The moment of clarity allows the fantasies of his revenge to come creeping in and Ben feels the anger and rage ebbing on the edge of the wonderful feeling building in his chest when he looks at you.

You weren't a supe. Ben could tell that just by looking at you. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone so soft and yet someone that he wanted to possess so badly that it almost hurt to stand inches away from you.

I don't want her to be apart of this.

The thought is immediate, stirring some primal urge within to protect what's his. Because you were his. You were the missing piece that he pretended not to need and the woman who always seemed to slip into his mind when he was alone and all was quiet,.

The thoughts of what he's about to do to his teammates come surging up and he didn't want you involved in any of that. Not when he knew that he needed to protect you, that he'd drag you along, and you'd see all the ugly parts of him and see the horror of what he was about to do.

He didn't want that for you, he didn’t want the first time that he met you to be like this, him looking like he'd crawled out from under a rock and full of so much anger, rage, and frustration it felt like he was going to explode, him having a new uncontrollable power that meant he might hurt you, and him being unable to give you his full attention when all he could think about was the team that stabbed him in the back.

What he was, was selfish, he knew that about himself.

But I won't be this selfish.

Ben had made many mistakes his life, he knew that, had done some things that he wasn't proud of, but you wouldn’t be one of them. He didn't want to put you in danger and realized that there was only one way to protect you, because after all, he was the only one who knew that you existed.

His eyes trace your face one more time, memorizing it before he does what he thinks is right. Ben turns away from you and forces himself to keep walking. Each cell in his body is screaming at him to turn around, to run back to you, but he can't. He doesn't want it to be like this and he knows that you deserve better.

I won't do this to her.

“Wait-“ He hears you shout over the sounds of the street.

The sound of your voice is a soothing melody, a warm soak in a hot bath, a steady hand against his back, and a salve over the gaping hole where a piece of him was missing for so long, the hole that he tried to ignore his whole life. He grits his teeth and continues to walk away from you, each step feeling like he's walking through tar the further he gets.

And deep down Ben is hoping that he did the right thing and makes a promise that he'll come back for you.

Present Day Ben POV

Why the fuck am I coming to this thing again?

Ben thought to himself standing outside the closed apartment door holding an expensive bottle of scotch. The same bottle of scotch that he was going to break open as soon as he crossed the threshold to get through this. He didn’t think that Hughie would appreciate it the way he would anyway.

Probably drinks those fucking fruity drinks with the umbrellas.

Ben didn’t understand why Hughie had invited him to this party or why Annie would let him invite Ben to it. Ben knew how much she hated him and the feeling was mutual.

Ben sighs as he stares at the door thinking about walking back to the elevator.

Invited was a strong word. Ben had overheard Hughie talking about it in the break room with MM and when Ben walked in, Hughie felt the need to fill the awkward silence by inviting Ben to the housewarming party.

Ben didn't know why anyone needed a housewarming party, but he chocked it up to another thing about the 21st century that he didn't quite understand.

He thought about all the people inside that he saw at work everyday, the ones that he tried to avoid all shoved in the apartment in front of him and groaned to himself.

Fuck, I should just go home.

Ben frowned at the thought of going back to his extravagant penthouse apartment downtown. The one that was two stories with a private balcony, six bedrooms, five bathrooms, a study, a media room, an exercise room, and overlooked Central Park with a view that would make anyone else salivate. His real estate agent had been surprised when Ben hadn't batted an eye at the price, but Ben didn't think about money the same way everyone else did.

He didn't have to, not with the money he'd earned over the years and not with the money his father, grandfather, and great grandfather in his accounts.

When he'd first bought the apartment he had been happy to get out from under Butcher's eye, who had a tendency to watch Ben like a hawk whenever he thought that Ben wasn't paying attention. But the apartment was large and cold, furnished with furniture that Ben had hired some twenty year old interior designer to buy, who charged him an outrageous amount of money to do absolutely nothing. She'd called it "minimalism," Ben called it "a fucking rip off."

Not one piece of furniture was comfortable to him and being there never felt like home. Then again, Ben didn't have a "home" to compare it to. His family mansion back in Philadelphia after his mother died had been cold and most of the rooms were closed off and the apartment he had in New York before he went to Russia was almost as big as his new one, but it never seemed like home. It always seemed like a way station, a place for Ben to entertain women for a short while before he went to a commercial shoot, a party, or on location for a film.

Even his cleaning lady and housekeeper would comment on the little things about his apartment that Ben tried to ignore. Honestly, Ben thought that she was fucking nosy, but she did her job well so he kept her on.

That and because he couldn't seem to remember her name no matter how many checks he wrote.

Ben didn’t like being in his apartment at all, but he knew that it wouldn't change if he moved. It wasn't where he lived that was the problem, it was that you weren't there with him.

It had been an entire year since he'd seen you and every day Ben walked the same path he had the day he met you for the first time hoping to run in to you. He didn’t have your name or your address or anything that he could have someone at work plug into a computer to find you. He'd tried to "google" you, but there was only so much he could do with the little information he had and he didn't understand how to find you other than the old fashioned way.

So he was back to sitting home alone every night trying his best not to notice how empty the apartment was, the one he bought that was more than big enough for two people. Sometimes he tried to stay out as long as he could to avoid going back to it, but each time he went through the front door it only emphasized how empty it was.

Ben's life was empty. He hadn't realized that before, but nowadays he was hyperaware of it. In the past he would have filled his life with women eager to warm his bed, but ever since he saw you Ben hadn't been able to think about anyone else.

Ben couldn't remember the last time he felt this frustrated and it only made everything harder for him. And as much as he tried to relieve the tension it never seemed like it was enough. He needed you.

And after he spent twelve months trying his best and he was tired of feeling restless he tried to pick up a woman in a bar.

Every cell in his body screamed wrong at the top of its lungs when he spoke to her, using lines that he'd perfected since he was a teenager. Ben knew he was good at that, but he fumbled the ball each time he opened his mouth. He tried to shake off the ghost of you, but when he spoke to the woman leaning against the aged wooden bar with a martini in her hand and wearing a dress that left little to the imagination, he got a flash in the corner of his eye of someone coming in through the door and he'd thought it was you.

He hadn't been expected to feel so ashamed, guilty, and embarrassed at the thought of you catching him with someone else. He'd been sleeping with women longer than you'd been alive and he'd never felt that way, but now that he knew you existed and knew there was a possibility of you running in to him, it was all different.

Ben's outlook on soulmates being "ridiculous" had evaporated on the spot the moment he locked eyes with you. He couldn't pretend that he didn't care anymore and couldn't pretend that you didn't exist.

How could he when you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen? How could he when a piece of him was with you? How could he when you were always on his mind?

He'd never had a woman have a hold on him so completely in his entire life, but you did.

She fucking does and I only saw her once.

It only made him feel worse. He wondered if he'd made the right decision when he turned his back on you.

Sometimes he liked to think back to the moment of when he first saw you when everything was quiet and he was sitting up in his bed staring down at the mark on his wrist that shone a brilliant gold. His mind would slip into those few moments of bliss and he would wonder what would have happened f he just said "fuck it" and didn't go after Payback, if he'd stopped and asked for your name, and allowed you to let him forget everything that happened in the past forty years so he could start his life with you.

Unfortunately, those moments were usually followed by the same self-deprecating thoughts that Ben had, the chauvinistic ones that he'd carried with him over the years, and the ones that his father had impressed on him from the moment he could walk and Ben couldn't seem to shake.

He'd berate himself about how it was stupid and pussy-like to pine over a woman.

Because that's what he was doing, he was pining over you and he didn't like it.

He didn't want to think of you as much as he did, but he couldn't help it. Now that Ben knew you existed he didn't want to miss out on another moment of your life.

Of course, he couldn't find you and that was the problem. Sometimes he wondered if you were looking for him as hard as he was looking for you, if you walked the same way each hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The dreams didn't make it any better. He'd never heard of someone living the memories of their soulmate when they slept, but every night he was subjected to watching your life and it only made him want to find you more.

He'd never knew that someone could feel so lonely surrounded by people, never knew that someone could feel so out of place, and never knew that someone could be as sad as you were, but each time he relieved a memory of yours at night Ben could feel his heart twinge.

Ben watched the lonely birthdays you spent with a cupcake and a beer for him, saw the jeers of the people in your hometown and the pitying looks from your parents, felt your shoulders shake when you cried alone in your room and stared at the birthdate on your wrist, and he felt you losing hope as each year passed.

Ben didn't usually allow himself to feel emotion like that, but watching you go through it all hurt him more than anything those Russian fucks did to him. He wasn't used to that and he wasn't used to thinking about other people as much as he thought about you.

But something about him felt different after meeting you.

Ben had asked Legend about soulmates, specifically the dreams, but Legend had muttered something unintelligible under his breath and took another snort of cocaine from the mirror on the coffee table instead of answering. Their relationship had been a little awkward after Ben slept with Legend's soulmate forty years ago, but Legend didn’t seem to be too upset about it… anymore. Mostly because Legend's soulmate tried to pull a Lorena Bobbitt one night and Legend caught her before any permanent damage was done.

She was in prison, and Ben didn't understand why Legend still went to see her for conjugal visits, but he figured that she was as much of a freak as his old handler.

Just rip the bandaid off you fucking pussy.

Ben thought staring at the clean white door in front of him.

Truthfully, Ben was tired. He'd been running himself harder for the last month, throwing himself into his work because he was starting to believe that he was never going to meet you again, and it seemed like work was the only thing that could distract him long enough. But he couldn't escape sleep.

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had avoided sleeping the best way he could and he got through a few days before he collapsed. The first dream he'd had of you had come on suddenly, but clear as day.

You reading on your bed in your apartment smiling down at the pages as if it the book was telling you a secret.

Ben wasn't a reader, didn't see any merit in it if it wasn't a western or a war book. The most he could tolerate was Ernest Hemingway, but he could have sat there and watched you read forever. You looked so peaceful, content, and happy that Ben was afraid to interrupt you even though it was just a dream.

But whenever he thought about you dreaming his memories, something dark settled in the back of his mind, because what were you seeing? He'd done a few things he wasn't proud of and Ben didn't want you to think that he wasn't a hero or that he was a bad guy.

Ben sighs and raises his hand to knock hard against the door with his free hand, trying not to open the bottle preemptively before entering the apartment.

"Ben?" Hughie says it like a question when he opens the door, eyes wide with the same stupid look on his face that always grates on Ben.

Ben forces his signature tight lipped smile that he flashes around the office. "Hey there sport."

"Hey. Wow, you're here." Hughie clears his throat and looks over his shoulder as if he's nervous about something.

Ben raises an eyebrow. "I was invited."

"Well yes but-"

"But?"

"Um-"

"Spit it out dipstick."

Hughie clears his throat. "I didn't think you would come."

Fuck I should have stayed home. He doesn't want me here, neither does his fucking beard.

Ben frowns listening to where Annie groans under her breath further inside the apartment and talks low under her breath to someone that Ben can't see.

"Well surprise and congratulations or whatever." Ben rolls his eyes holding out the bottle of scotch. He was hesitant to lose sight of it, not when talking to Hughie for less than five minutes made him want to down the whole bottle.

"Oh wow this is really," Hughie's eyes widen as he takes in the label and realize how much money Ben spent on the bottle. "Expensive stuff, thanks Ben."

"It'll put some hair on your chest." Ben claps Hughie hard on the shoulder as he pushes past him into the foyer of the apartment.

The entire apartment could have fit in Ben's living room and kitchen. It was made in a similar fashion to his, sleek white walls, sterling silver appliances, large glass windows that let in the light-

Ben stops so suddenly inside the area that leads into the kitchen that Hughie plows into his back, but Ben doesn't feel it.

He can't move, can't breathe, because he's noticed the person talking to Annie is you. This was the last place that he'd expected you to be, but he doesn't care, because you're here and you're more beautiful than he remembers.

You're standing there pouring ice from a large bag into a pink acrylic bucket with an adorable amount of concentration for such a simple task wearing the same sweater you were the day he first saw you. You're also wearing a little more makeup and your hair is longer, and not pulled back into the messy bun as it was that day, but you’re still you and you’re here.

His fingers twitch with the urge to run his hands through the tangled tresses, to feel if they're as soft as he imagined for so long.

Ben's body swells with emotion, goosebumps flicker over his skin, and all other sounds in the room vanish, because seeing you was like watching the sun rise and feeling the world hold it's breath as it basks in the early morning rays.

And Ben wanted to bask in everything you were, every day for the rest of his life. Now that he found you again he wasn't going to let you out of his sight.

Your soul sings to him as he nears you, the cells in his body vibrating so fast that he can feel every single one begging him to touch you.

You turn into him by accident, sending the bag of ice tumbling to the floor, but feeling your body against his sends him into overdrive and he can't hold back anymore. He reaches out to grab your shoulder as gently as he can without hurting you.

Hurting you was the last thing he wanted to do. And because you weren’t a supe he knew how fragile you were.

You gasp under your breath at the contact from his hand, but to Ben it sounds thunderous in his ears. Ben trails his hand across your shoulder, up your neck, to cup your chin and raise your face to look at him. He feels like his whole body is igniting as he makes contact with your skin.

He can feel an odd vibration in his chest as he does so, energy crackling and pulsing around the two of you, but the rest of the room falls silent. He can’t look away from you, not when seeing you again is like staring too long at the sun and he's left with the imprint of your light and beauty on the inside of his eyelids.

Ben can't focus on anything else, doesn’t hear the awkward chatter, doesn't feel the discomfort he had upon his arrival, doesn't notice the way everyone has turned to stare at the two of you, and doesn't feel the air conditioning turn on and blow cool air against his warm freckled skin.

All he knows is you.

Your eyes are wide and he suspects his are as well, pupils blown but still beautiful and hypnotic as they were one year ago. Ben feels a smile pulling at his lips and he lets it go, because standing in front of you, feeling like this, it’s impossible to do much else.

Your skin is warm to the touch beneath the roughness of his fingertips and he touches you with a reverence that he has never graced anyone else with, because you were his. Every part of you was made for him just as every part of him was made for you.

The your soul was calling out to him, weaving a golden cord of energy in his mind that snagged in the center of his chest and made him feel whole for the first time in life.

You reach out to touch him, the soft palm of your hand falling just over his heart and it makes something inside him break open to flood the space between the two of you.

Hope stirs in his chest with your gentle touch and your unblinking gaze, warmth trailing from where your hand lays against his shirt. His eyes drop to the wrist to see his birthdate, a glowing ember against your skin where the sleeve of your sweater has fallen down an inch.

Your eyes lock with his once more, full lips slightly parted, and breathless.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." Ben murmurs, trailing his thumb across your cheek with a gentleness that he's never possessed.

Ben was not a gentle man, but for you he would try. He would be anything you wished him to be, for as long as he lived, because now that he found you, he was never going to let you go.

And he welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to stand in his way.

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always welcome and appreciated! I really love hearing what y'all think. ❤️ If you'd liked to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

Taglist:

@reidtomewinchester @livya99 @pascal-rascal424 @xaviersgifted @zepskies

@bagpussjocken @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kamisobsessed @goldenmaknaes @ophennie

@infinityonhighhhhh @modiddys-blog @globetrotter28 @roseblue373 @tulipsvanilla

@annoyingrebelsoul @soldiergrimes @megara0224 @zpandaqueen @ladykitana90

@corruptedcruiser @podiumackles @criminalyetminimal

@deangirl96 @kr804573 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn

@52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester

@bookchik26 @anna6307

#lovelyreaders

154 notes · View notes