#But I've learned to love it and love the way I do it

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ

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

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

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

ꨄ words: 10.5k

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

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎

ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too late,” he whispers back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”

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

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

“How do I look?” you pose playfully.

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

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

“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru clears his throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”

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

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

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

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

“Okay, got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.

Haru barely spares a second glance.

“Nope! The stem is too small.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haru’s face lights up with pride.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re impossible…” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Haru.

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

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

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

“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”

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

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

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

“Promise ‘toru?”

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recognition.

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

No such luck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just us, huh?” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now, that’s all that matters.

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

taglist:

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

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

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

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

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

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

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

@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

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

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

[corviiids]

alright. i played death note game for the first time. here are my observations from the three games i played

joined an incredibly lovely lobby. if you guys see this hi im rook and i'm sorry for deceiving you

got kira follower two games in a row

won both, hell yeah

told everyone it was my first time playing the game (true) and that i didn't know how the game worked (also mostly true)

got kira my third game. literally what are the odds of this happening to me i didn't get to side with L a single time

day 1: immediately start killing aggressively with zero subtlety.

raised suspicions to the point i was the literal only suspect and everyone was talking about voting for me

i have all the evidence on me and if i get arrested i lose right here. not good. how do i get out of this

distracted them from interrogating me by asking inane questions and playing dumb

stalled out the timer and diverted conversation until everyone was confused and time ran out, forcing a skipped vote. the timer is LONG. this took a WHILE

one player was ultra sus of me and told everyone else if they died then i must be kira

day 2: immediately handed off the death note and all my evidence to my teammate

instructed them to kill the player who suspected me so that all suspicion would fall on me and not on them

deliberately acted as suspicious as possible to get myself caught at the next meeting

everyone is incredibly sus of me at the meeting because i've been standing near literally everyone

everyone votes for me apologetically ("sorry rook that this is your first experience, no way you got kira three times in a row but it's too sus, hope you get a chance to learn the game properly")

sadly conceded to everyone that i understood i must look very sus and didn't know how to defend myself :(

got arrested. no evidence on me.

guess i'm not kira!

follower killed L

kira wins again :)

monologued to the extremely lovely lobby about my evil plan incl. keikaku doori (joke i made on purpose) and maniacal laughter (this just happened naturally)

"wow. you really do know how to play this game."

(i do not. i got very, very lucky and had excellent teammates. but like, im happy to take credit for it.)

exp boost to 11

[inkoutsidethelines]

Hoo boy. Okay. This reply got my attention, and I'm going to do my best to answer each point you raise. Because I think this is an incredibly bad faith reading of the Jedi and the Star Wars movies in general.

The Jedi are Detached from reality as it is perceived by humans.

There is absolutely nothing in the movies that supports this claim. Nor is there anything in the movies that support your claim that the Jedi don't perceive time in a linear fashion. Yes, some Jedi get glimpses of the future, or the past, but that is in no way the same thing as fully experiencing time in a non linear fashion.

Genuinely, I don't know where you got this idea from. I can't think of a single moment from any of the movies that supports it. You have simply made up a headcanon about the Jedi and decided that it was true.

Anakin, a person who clearly suffers from borderline personality disorder which comes with symptoms such as fear of abandonment, an unstable view of the self, devaluing or overvaluing relationships to the point placing of one’s self-worth entirely in another person’s hands, and more, literally needs unconditional love and support.

Anakin does not clearly suffer from borderline personality disorder. The movies don't support that, and no interview I've ever seen from George Lucas supports that. This is, again, a headcanon that you made up and have decided it's true.

He was simultaneously considered the “chosen one” and considered a burden or a problem.

Exactly one Jedi made a big deal about Anakin being the Chosen One: Qui-Gon. That's it. The Jedi don't treat Anakin any different than any other member of their order. Heck, potentially being the Chosen One wasn't even enough to convince the Council to let him join the Order in the first place!

As for treating him like a problem/burden...well, no, not really. Not in the movies. They get frustrated when he disobeys orders, but that's a fair reaction. Obi-Wan corrects him when he's getting too emotional, but that's literally Obi-Wan's job as Anakin's Master. They're upset when Palpatine forces them to give Anakin a seat on the Council, but that has less to do with Anakin and more to do with not appreciating Palpatine trying to manage Jedi business.

And that’s not even touching on how in Phantom Menace he created strong bonds with both Qui-Gon and Padmé only to have both of the ripped away right after he’d left behind everything he knew and loved.

...I'm not sure what you expect the Jedi to do about that? Qui-Gon died, and Padme was a Queen who had to go back to her own planet.

And Anakin choose to leave Tatooine and his mother behind to try and become a Jedi. Shmi encouraged him to go! And certainly an argument can be made that a nine year old can't fully understand that decision, but Qui-Gon did his best to explain what that choice meant, and that a Jedi's way of life is hard.

Anakin made choices. So did Qui-Gon, and so did Padme. The Jedi can't help any of that.

He was NINE and being told that everything he ever learned was wrong and backwards and leads to being evil and that he needs to be perfect for anyone else to think he belonged because even the smallest mistake would just confirm their preconceived beliefs about him.

I'm going to need some references for this claim, because I don't remember ever being shown this in any of the movies.

The Jedi are shown to respect other cultures, but Jedi have their own culture and standards that one must live up to in order to be a Jedi. There's nothing wrong with that! The Jedi are allowed to have their own culture, and they're allowed to have standards about who can join them.

Anakin never would have become anything like Vader without Sidious leading him.

It's quite possible that this is true. Though he did murder a whole tribe of Tusken Raiders, women and children included, years before he became Vadar. That being said, no amount of lies and manipulation from Sidious excuses the choice Anakin made to betray the Jedi and murder younglings.

That was a choice that Anakin made. Sidious didn't force his hand. Anakin made the decision that the chance of saving Padme - from a fate he didn't know for sure she'd experience! - was worth betraying the Jedi, worth murdering younglings, worth overthrowing the Republic and turning it into an Empire.

Anakin doesn’t view Padmé as a possession, I don’t know why anyone would think that.

Well - to stick to a movie example, since you indicated you don't consider the Clone Wars show to be canon - it could be because he never bothered to consult her in his "I will murder a bunch of younglings and help Sidious start an Empire to save Padme's life" plan, to see if she was actually okay with it. And once she finds out after the fact, and she IS NOT okay with it, Anakin responds by Force choking her.

That's why I call Anakin selfish and possessive. Because ultimately, he didn't care about Padme's feelings or opinions. Even if Anakin had been right that she was definitely going to die and Sidious would save her, Padme still would not have agreed to wiping out the Jedi and destroying the Republic to save her own life. Anakin doesn't just betray the Jedi and the Republic. He betrays Padme, her beliefs and values, because he can't stand the thought of being without her.

As for the unconditional love you say he needed? Padme did love him unconditionally. She loved him after he murdered a whole tribe of Tuskan Raiders. She loved him when she knew he was lying and keeping secrets from the Jedi Order that trusted him. She loved him after he betrayed the Jedi Order and the Republic, offering to run away with him and live hiding out from the Empire with their baby. Padme loved Anakin unconditionally and it wasn't enough for him.

Because Anakin was selfish. And he wanted everything. And he couldn't have it.

"no attachments" in SW literally just means "don't be selfish and possessive". that's it. that's all there is. doesn't mean jedi can't have friends and loved ones. they can. just. don't be possessive and selfish about it. don't murder thousands of people in an effort to save one.

[niuniente]

Dear people over America. I woke up to this current political news which is devastating to say the least to minorities, women and the trans community on the other side of the globe. I wanted to do what little I can to help and ease your minds.

I'm a psychic. I have been doing divination (oracle readings) for 25 years. I've got a high success rate and my reviews on my store are 5/5 (you can see this for yourself). I asked the cards for clarification for all this; why is HE the president now, and how does the nearby future look for women and trans communities.

Please note that these are collective readings of the topic and might not correlate with your own personal experiences or how things are in your home state! So take only what resonates with you and ignore the rest. (If you wish to have a personal reading, that is possible; in that case, click here)

Why Trump is the president?

This result didn't surprise me because for the past 3 years I have heard many American people, who have had a near-death experience (NDE) to say that if they have gotten a view of America's future, Trump has always appeared as being elected for the 2nd time - but only for the 2nd time.

The Spirit tells me that Trump's personal lesson is to learn to see other people's points of views. That's why he chose such a position in society, where he would need to consider many different people from different backgrounds and life situations. He needs to understand how his actions affect others.

However, he is miserably failing with this personal lesson (unless something happens and he somehow completes it now in the next 4 years). Instead of going for harmony and seeing everyone's point of view, his priority is Power. With a capital P. That's what he desires, that's what he wants (MAGA movement is based on this; power back to America, America needs to be a powerful, unyielding boxer in the global ring - only a win matters).

I asked why he wishes for this Power and it's simply because of the power's sake. He loves to be in control. He loves to feel powerful. You all are asked, as much as possible, to detach from this drama he is causing because it indeed seems like he is close to a cult leader and loves to bask in this power. He loves the idea that he can command nukes and one of the most powerful countries in the world. To get this, he is ready to cause any kind of a shitstorm - after all, he has not learned to consider others, except maybe only his own family members.

This correlates with his views of an autonomic power, where he gets all the power and can be a dictator. There's no one more powerful person alive in the world than a dictator. Anyone following him is likely learning this same lesson of empathy and understanding, and failing in it. They all want to be the King of the Hill and by following someone who already is, makes them feel like they are, too. This is all drama for dramas sake because it makes them feel more powerful.

TL;DR: Trump's life lesson is to learn to respect and honor everyone despite their backgrounds and views. What a better way to do that as a president of a nation with so many nationalities and stories of people in it. But so far he has failed miserably in this lesson and has chosen blind worship of power instead. Stirring drama is his tactic to gain more power and followers. Detach from his and his followers' drama as much as you can; block, ignore, move on. His reign will eventually come to an end.

Future for Women in The US?

A toxic masculine energy wishes to control women of America and this is not related to any single individual. The rise of misogyny is real and tangible, and women are part of this "other party" the power hungry men do not want to contemplate. It's His way or No Way at all.

This will make women turn more and more away from men, which HOPEFULLY make these men see that in order to actually have a woman and a family they so much yearn to have is to love women. Not to hate them as they now do. Not to see them as assets or items or rewards of a job well done of being a man. More and more women will choose not to have kids, choose not to date or get married, and they will choose even more carefully men who are on their side, walking next to them as a unit.

In a way or another, women WILL fight and take their power back. Peace will not be an option. If this fighting can't be done visibly, it will be done in secrecy; helping other women out, warning them of bad men and risks, aiding others to better safety and to a better life. Mind you that this also covers trans women; there are trans women and trans allies in cis women who will be willing to help. Women will turn towards one another. Men who follow this old paradigm of controlling women will be met with women's bare teeth but other women will be met with peace. I don't see anything particularly related to women who follow misogyny but I imagine with this much mental energy here, women will not abandon them but educate them. It is possible some of these women, who support this kind of regime, will later change their minds when they see how it negatively affects them, their parents, sisters, aunts, friends, cousins, coworkers etc. Some women will die in order to wake others up.

Women will turn their nurturing energies - the one this regime wants to turn towards men and babies - towards themselves. Artistic expression and expressing their feelings through any form of art will be significant. Pay attention to what kind of art women do now - it's going to be directly reflected in what's going on now. Women seem to also be looking more after their bodies, keeping themselves safe. This low level energy of control and forcing women is echoes of the past and women of America, collectively and mainly, wish not to partake in it any longer.

When it comes to men, these men who have thought that Trump will deliver them a woman to look after them and have their babies will see that it's not the case. And, if it is, the marriage is not happy and many women will fight like a trapped wild cat, scratching the eyes out of any of the people who want to trap them. This will be genuinely boggling to them and might make them angrier but their lessons are to understand what human rights are and what it means to respect others as your equal.

TL;DR: Women will turn away from misogyny and forced motherhood more and more, turning their attention and care towards themselves and other women (trans included) and leaving misogyny men angry because they have not learned to love women (not your job to teach them this, sisters!). Artistic expressions in all forms among women will be very high as it will be a way to express and deal with these current energies. Women will be even more pickier with the men they date and get married with, or even interact overall with - as they should. Anyone who wants to rip you off from your human rights is not your ally or a good partner. This will not be a shocker to anyone else but the men who believe in misogyny, as they will not get wives or girlfriends any easier - it only gets harder.

Future for Trans People in the US?

Trans people in the USA (not every state, mind you) need to "erase" their existence. Like I saw someone saying here; if you know a trans person in the USA now, no, you don't. True identities will be hidden for the safety's sake and people will flock more into underground, smaller communities. Those communities will continue to exist and support one another. This is not a total erasure but it's erasure in a way that it is better to choose carefully who really knows your true identity and who are the people to whom you are performing the identity of your physical body. So trans men will pretend to continue to be women on the outside, trans women will pretend to continue to be men on the outside but in their own safe spaces and supportive communities, they can be who they truly are.

Now, trans communities and rights will not be erased. There can be a momentary setback and time when trans people have to carefully hide their identities for their own sake but it will not be permanent. Trans people, like women's collective, WILL FIGHT. Trans people will NOT allow themselves and their fellow trans people to be erased. The time when "transpeople didn't exist because this is woke idealism", as red-wing misogyny says, WILL NOT return. People who wish for these times to come back have fallen from the evolution of humanity. Trans people will not stop existing. They will fight for their rights till the end of the world. Liberation seems to be near and this looks, in America, to be the final dark hour before the new dawn. Hang in there!

The Spirit and the cards promise that trans people will get their freedom. There's no returning back to the time when their existence was forbidden. There's a flow of prosperity and lots of freedom in the future cards so any trans person there reading this - DO NOT GIVE UP. This is temporary. This will pass. You need to play with these nasty rules for a little while but it will pass.

There's a promise of balance in work and home life, so acceptance of trans people both in private areas of their life (home, friends, communities, online blogs etc.) as well as in public (school, work, society, hospitals, other people). That kind of a future is coming, also as we move more into the Era of Aquarius, which supports human rights, different gender and sexual identities without judgment, liberation of gender and sexuality and thus the human expression itself.

TL;DR: Trans people need to lay low for now and hide their true identities for their own safety. If you know a trans person, no, you do not. They will find the support they need in their own communities but trans people will not be erased. Trans people WILL fight and there is going to be a time in the future when they can openly (once again) be who they truly are, both at home and outside home. Flow of prosperity and freedom is in the cards as a promise of the future and these energies are massive. This is only the old paradigm's final efforts to stay alive as it croaks and is forgotten. American humanity will evolve to respect trans people's human rights, too.

EVERYONE SCARED IN THE USA, KEEP GOING! This is only a temporary moment of night.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I've sent a similar ask before, but in peachsoup I want to see everyone's reaction to Sun Wukong being named Peaches.

Nehza: *face palms.* No memories and he is still subconsciously pining.

Erlang: *on the floor laughing* It takes a special kind of simping to do it with no memory.

Macaque: *crisis because even with no memory, Wukong chose his nickname for him as a name, but also he's supposed to be angry about dying but peaches-*

Prev.

Dont worry about resending. My inbox is stuffed to the gills and I get lost in it. Also indenting doesnt seem to work right when im on mobile.

I ended up making a bit of character dialogue based on this ask between Peaches and his school-friend "Nez"

Nez: "So how did you get the name Peaches?" Peaches: "Oh! When Dadsy- uh dad found me and MK, he called me it because peaches were pretty much the only thing I ate." Nez, agreeing hum: "Make sense." Peaches: "Then when we were adopted, we needed new legal names - so Zhu Taozi it was!" Nez: "So... you never considered having another name? I mean, the legal folk definitely gave you time to think about it. Why did Peaches resonate with you?" Peaches, twirling hair in thought: "This is gonna sound weird... but I felt like it's always been my name." Nez: "Really?" Peaches: "I know! It sounds so weird! But when I heard it for the first time, it just sounded so natural. Like someone I care about a long time ago called me it? Nez, intrigued: "Oh... so you think it was a nickname from a sibling or a parent or...?" Peaches, confidently: "I think it was someone I was in love with." Nez, memory thread unlocked?: "OH. Oh um... how can you tell?" Peaches, blush creeping: "I don't know! When I sit and meditate on stuff like this, I can just imagine someone just so beautiful with this deep voice chuckling my name like it was meant for me." (*hugs his own body lovingly*) Nez, honesty touched: "Aww..." Peaches, little embarrassed: "I'm sorry. Thats sappy." Nez: "Nah, it's really cute. Who knows? Maybe it's a sign from Yue Lao about who your soulmate it. He sometimes uses dreams to push fated lovers towards one another." Peaches, tail swishing with excitement: "Oh my gods, you're right! It could be a premonition! I wonder if my fated one is as beautiful as I see them! Nezha, internally: "He can't remember over 2000 years of life, but he can remember what his mate used to call him. It would be funny if it wasn't so bittersweet."

Once Macaque gets back, it's hard to see where his face mask begins and end. Learning that even with his memories gone Wukong chose to be called "Peaches", sends the shadow monkey into a conflicted mess. He's mad about getting KO'd obvs, but "Peaches" is both a tragic example of what if Wukong had died (Peaches is almost his own monkey after all), and a revelation that Wukong never truly forgot his mate.

Erlang is laughing his ass off as all of this goes down. His third eye was just spitting patch updates to him one day and BAM; Wukong's mate is back, and just learned that his amnesiac mate remembered and valued his pet name enough to make it his new name. It's way too funny to keep quiet about. He tells all his sworn bros about it.

When Peaches' family realises that "Peaches" was the pet name his big bro's crush called him back when they were a couple... they think its really cute. But the bad boy still isn't coming over for dinner.

[zoppa682]

For any nonhumans struggling with species dysphoria, I want to help you all as much as I can. I've been experiencing it all week. It can be quite exhausting and put you in a lot of distress, in my case. X(

Here are some tips I'd recommend to help:

1. Mimic the diet of your kintype/theriotype. You are a shark? Eat seafood. A dragon? Maybe try to burn some food a little (or turn it black like my own preference if you want). You kin a character from [Insert source]? Try recreating foods/dishes from their world or dimension.

2. Listen to relatable music. I'd recommend making a playlist of any songs that feel species affirming/euphoric, or even echo that dysphoria further, therefore turning it relatable. (Few of my favorites are Bones by Imagine Dragons, Control by Halsey, Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA, Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage, among other songs that feel therian coded to me).

3. Do vocals. Howling, barking, screeching, or roaring are very relieving if you are in the correct space to do them! If you are in a quite space or do not want to out yourself to anyone, try purring, growling, hissing, or other unnoticeable sounds. You have an object kintype? Mimic the sounds of the object, like beeping, clicking, etc. (I personally make microwave sounds just because it is fun). Recite voice lines of your kintype from the source they are in. Mimic their voice and volume to match.

4. Move and physically act like your kintype/theriotype. Quadrobics, mimic the flapping of wings, walk bidepedally, whatever you do, turn your mannerisms and motion to reflect your kintype/theriotype.

5. Dress like your kintype/theriotype. Is your kintype a character? Cosplay them, or mimic their clothing style, clothing color, hairstyle, etc. If they have tattoos, scars, or patterns on their body, copy them on your physical form with paint or pens. (PLEASE USE NON TOXIC MATERIALS. STUFF SAFE FOR YOUR HUMAN SKIN.) Are you a species of animal(s)? Dress in your species' colors, or, once again, paint or color yourself like it/them. Are you perhaps any other form of creature or object? You can use the same tips as the others, and another idea that works for all is that you can buy costume pieces of your kintype/theriotype. Masks, headbands, just normal clothing in general, the options really are infinite.

6. Express your dysphoria through artwork. I love doing art when I am heavily species dysphoric. Drawing, crafting masks, origami, painting, collages, all are forms of art. If you are skilled in music, then you could even create some songs of your own!

7. Go out and explore nature. This one is mainly targeted towards therians, whose types are grounded on the life on earth rather than other dimensions or universes, but just like the other methods, it can be universally used by any types of nonhumans. Collecting things is my favorite way of exploring nature. Collect rocks, shells, sticks, leaves, bugs, plants, anything that makes you feel more comfortable in your own (unfortunate) physical body. Stay grounded in the world around you and you may find the dysphoria slips away. Hiking and going on short walks can also help, building a den, smelling the scents of the outdoors. All great ideas that I personally recommend.

8. Write about your feelings. Whether you are good at expressing yourself through poetry, you keep a diary/journal, or you can project onto OCs for new backstory lore like I do, writing can truly help with any dysphoria. Not only that, but it is sometimes refreshing to come back later and read about what you were feeling before. It can serve as a great reminder that you are a powerful being and you will always overcome the feelings if you try.

9. Research about your kintype/theriotype. It does not matter if you are an animal, concept, or object from earth, a being from fantasy, or a character from the greatest book or show, you learn something new every day. So why not learn about yourself? Read books or watch animal documentaries of your theriotype(s), same thing for you otherkins and your fantasy species. Fictionkins can look up facts about themself as a character, their book, show, game, etc.

10. Talk and interact with other alterhumans/nonhumans. Remember, we are a community, and while you are experiencing horrible episodes of species dysphoria, there are many other beings going through the exact same thing at the exact same time. So why not talk to them about it? Share your experiences, help eachother cope, you may even connect with more individuals that way, building more relationships with others and meeting new beings.

11. Past life meditation. If you are a nonhuman who has a past life/lives, you may find comfort in meditation, where you can truly tap into what you once were, and still are in this life as well. Look to the forgotten, and turn in to remembered. Open up your past and live over again.

12. Listen to sounds. Nature sounds, voices of other characters you know from your world, vocals or sound effects of your kintype. These are all good options to turn to if you want to feel at ease with yourself.

13. Let your emotions out. Sometimes this is all you really need to do when species dysphoria hits hard. Cry, bite things, claw at pillows, LET IT OUT. There is absolutely no problem in being yourself and expressing your heavy emotions in your own, unique, nonhuman way. You may find you feel much better after.

That's all I've got, but I hope whoever/whatever reads this far has an amazing day/night. You are an amazing being, thank you for embracing yourself and living authentically. <3

[figurantedefilme]

marry me — sam winchester.

pairing: sam winchester x gn!reader

summary: you woke up and decided that you should marry sam as soon as you could.

cw: just fluff, very cliché, no use of s/n, established relationship, brief mention of canon-typical violence, thoughts about marriage, hugs, kisses, use of nicknames by sam and reader (honey, darling, baby, my love), small appearance by dean, poorly edited.

a/n: okay, this was VERY short, i'm still learning how to write this kind of stuff, i'm not very creative, but i needed to write this to take a weight off my shoulders, i loved so much this shit with sammy ;(( sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!! enjoy ;)

(ps: im reposting this because i moved blogs!!)

— send me an request!! <3

It was a day like any other after a long hunt. You woke up, Sam was sleeping peacefully next to you in the shared room. You looked at the time on the clock; it was 7am.

Sam was half hugging you, one of his big arms under your back, another hand on your waist, one of his legs folded between yours, the sunlight coming through the gaps in the curtain, illuminating his face in such an incredible way, and you could see a small smile on his face, he really was at peace. You loved it when he slept so well like that, no nightmares, no worries transmitted on his face, just the peace of a good night's sleep.

You thought a lot about it, about how much you wanted to wake up every day with Sam by your side, like, have a life with him, maybe even retire from hunting, get married, a house further away from the city, or even live in the bunker, it didn't matter, you just wanted to be with him until the end of your lives, be his forever, and have him for yourself too.

Sam started to wake up, a big smile on his face when he saw you there beside him. "Good morning, honey." he said in that sleepy voice. "Marry me." You said simply, admiring your boyfriend's beauty, having barely woken up.

"What did you say, darling?" He turned to the side, propping himself up on his elbow to look into your eyes. "I said marry me, my love." You smiled what was probably the biggest smile of your entire life, then leaned in and kissed Sam on the nose.

"Wait," he sat down on the bed, and you followed his action, sitting in front of him. "What's wrong?" You saw how the expression on his face changed, something like surprise, with a hint of confusion. "Are you serious, baby?" He said, taking your hands and looking deep into your soul, he really wanted to know that.

"I've never said anything so serious in my life, Samuel," you replied, clasping your hands around his.

"Oh, of course I want to marry you, in fact, just wait here." He let go of her hands and turned to get out of bed, and went towards the dresser in the room, opened one of the drawers, and from the bottom, took out a red velvet box. "I've been planning this for a while, I wanted to wait until we had a day off and I could take you out to dinner and do it in a more romantic way."

He knelt in front of the bed, opened the little box, and reached out to take yours, you sat on the edge of the bed, almost crying and held his hand. "Do you want to marry me too?" He smiled big, and you simply started to cry. "Oh my god, yes yes, please, yes."

"I should be the one asking you please, you are the most important person in my life, and I would do anything to protect you from all this shit we keep fighting, just to have you for myself forever, my love." He took off the ring and put it on your finger, kissing your hand. He stood up and hugged you, wiping your tears.

"Oh, I love you so much." You said, and began to shower his face with kisses.

"What's that noise here? Who's crying?" Dean appeared at the door, wearing his robe with a cup of coffee in one hand.

"I did it, Dean." Sam said looking at his brother, he held his wrist and pointed his hand so Dean could see the ring.

"Uh, finally, Sammy, I'm so happy for you." He said with a smile that quickly faded. "But can you stop making so much noise? It's only 7am, thanks." Then he turned and closed the door.

"Typical Dean," you said, laughing.

[atomic-waste-of-time]

ok, maybe I get excited over being turned into a robot, or a pet. Maybe I get super excited thinking about staring into a partners eyes as they help me take my dehumanifier shots, while petting me softly, and telling me I'm doing a good job.

Maybe I just wanna be treated as an object, because objects are treated better than me by everyone I know. Maybe I hate being human because I never got treated as a human, but my entire childhood was rather spent crying and watching nature documentaries while repressing trauma I had in kindergarten when I was 7 years old.

Maybe I was only able to realize what I actually was when I was 14, by remembering the repressed memory of looking in a mirror and saying "I want to be a girl" before getting laughed at by everyone, including the teacher, and as a result my entire school life was spent in a state of panic and survival, being hurt for the amusement of others, never being heard, and often getting into detention for defending myself when I absolutely had to.

Maybe I was yelled at as a child for having a hard time remembering things, or understanding "basic" things, like 3rd grade math, or essays. Maybe I realized too late that I was actually transgender, that there were more people like me, that I wasn't a monster, just misunderstood.

Maybe I'm so sick and tired of fighting for myself, in a world that's hellbent on torturing my very existence. Maybe I dream of being something that isn't human because they don't have to suffer under laws, or currency, or conflicting emotions. Maybe I was treated as a monster my entire life, and adulthood is just adding a crashing burning flame to the comedic tragedy that has been my life.

Maybe I want to be a monster. Maybe I was labelled as a monster so much I learned to adapt to the role, scaring people away, being alone, even though I've always hated it. Maybe I never wanted to be human. Maybe I was born as a monster, labelled a freak by doctors, and told I wasn't special at all, just another cog in a machine everyone seems to hate, but nobody wants to do anything about except for me.

Maybe I want to be treated as an object, as an animal, as something that isn't human, because at least that way I'll feel loved. I'll be accepted. I can be happy, if I give away the thing I hate the most.

Maybe all these are true, maybe one or two, maybe none at all, and maybe you, the Reader, feel the same way.

Maybe we were mistreated and horribly abused, verbally and mentally. Maybe we both feel guilty for our trauma because it isn't as bad as someone else's trauma. Maybe we both hate the world, maybe we both want to change it.

Maybe we grew up in a manipulative home, maybe you grew up without a home, maybe you didn't even think about any of this until now, or maybe it's been a question bugging us our entire lives.

Maybe my family says they care for me, but they treat me like a slave and a freak. Maybe you understand how that feels too.

Maybe we both suffer, maybe we both hurt. Maybe we come here to get away, only to see more people in peril and pain. Maybe we just want to be happy.

Maybe you put everyone else before yourself because you were mentally abused and trained to do so. Maybe you wanted everyone else to be happy because you thought it was impossible for you to be happy. Maybe situations worsened when you showed up, like the universe itself hated your existence. Maybe you feel the same way I do.

Maybe I'm just venting over a silly post about dehumanization, maybe I'm overthinking, maybe I'm spiraling in on myself again.

Maybe I'm trying not to cry. Maybe I'm shaking and sobbing, my fingers move instinctively across the keyboard to communicate while I sob. Maybe my head aches from life crashing down around me.

Maybe I'm losing my home, my life, everything I worked so hard for. Maybe I'll never get to Britain to see my girlfriend. Maybe I'll never be good enough and I'll have to suffer forever, like I have been my entire life, tortured by happy memories that are far outweighed by the negative emotions and swirling hatred for myself, my mind and body in a constant war while I'm just a civilian casualty.

Maybe I can't cope with the fact all I'm doing is venting about my problems in the form of a long text post on tumblr. Maybe I just want to die, but I know I can't yet, when the world still needs someone like me. Maybe I have a greater purpose, maybe I matter. Maybe I don't, and the voices that scream in my day to day life are all right. Maybe I should just end my story before it gets any worse. Maybe my story will get better. Maybe I'll be ok. Maybe we'll all be ok.

Maybe I'll be loved as an object, or a pet. Maybe I'll feel cherished and appreciated. Maybe I'll be able to cry when my girlfriend holds me close. Maybe I'll be able to open a cafe just for us, where we sell tea and play music, and live out our dream. Together.

Maybe I'll be happy. Maybe I'll be better off.

Maybe I'm being too sincere. Maybe not sincere enough.

Maybe you have a lot to think about. Maybe you should reflect on yourself as a person. Maybe we all should.

Maybe I'm being too sincere.

But that's what you wanted, right?

dehumidifier? no. you misheard. i said deHUMANifier

[rosepetalkitty]

ok y'all i have a question.

if i were an affini i could still be a floret. that's already something i've heard about.

but.

can an affini who is a floret for another affini also have her own florets.

can i have both? do i have to pick one? is one of the rules of being a floret that you have to be a full on sub all the time?

because i could live with that but mmm it would be so fun to be able to show Miss the cute girl i'm taking care of~

"do you have any tips for comforting her Miss? i'm worried she thinks i don't love her anymore after i shouted like that... i want to make it up to her."

"what should i be doing to get her to listen better Miss?"

"she bites sometimes, which is cute, but i want to turn that against her, how's the best way to do that Miss?"

i wanna have Miss teach me how to take care of my own little pet using the same tricks she uses on me~

"Oh, darling I'm sure it'll be okay. You love to cuddle, don't you? Have you tried that with her? Well there you go~ And you should know, a little bird told me she'll feel even better if she's under Class Es while you cuddle with her~ Well it worked on you didn't it? ;)"

"Well, you listen better when I make eye contact with you, don't you darling? Here, let me show you how to do it right. You just grab her chin like this... Look here for me~ That's a good girl~"

"You used to bite me, don't you remember? And how did I handle that? Exactly, you keep her gagged while you tease her~ In time she'll learn that biting isn't really an act of defiance at all! It's an invitation~"

uh so yeah thanks for coming to my ted talk and if there are any affini out there who wanna take me in... ehe... dms and notes are always open~

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Okay, imma be real? I think this fandom gets way too upset over characterization differences between books (this'll be a long one just let me explain).

I see a lot of posts in the WOF fandom about how certain characters got ruined in the next books or how their characterizations were completely screwed over. A lot of posts also are like, "Oh, Tui messed up X character in this book so badly!" Or "All their personality has changed in this book, what happened to my favorite character?" and so on like that.

This kind of thing, ESPECIALLY after rereading the series recently, then coming back to the fandom, pisses me off to NO END for a couple of reasons.

1. Tui wasn't "ruining" your favorite characters personality in the next book, because the focus of the next book wasn't the character in question. The spotlight is on another character entirely, and trying to micromanage THAT many personalities to their truest form is INCREDIBLY difficult.

2. Plotting out character personalities is a GRUELING process, coming from someone who does a lot of writing. ESPECIALLY if it's original characters, because then you can't just pull from fandom or canon, you gotta do that shit yourself. And over the course of the canon, their personality is gonna change!

This brings me to my last point and probably the biggest reason:

3. EVERY BOOK IS FROM A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE.

This has been a STAPLE of the Wings of Fire books from the VERY BEGINNING. With every new book, we as readers are jumping from one dragon's mental space to the next, learning about their traits and quirks and how they perceive the world around them, every single time we pick up the next book in the series. It's what helps give us those deeper insights into the characters that yall get so angry about when they aren't immediately represented in the next book, when that dragon is no longer our spotlight.

Also, when we are learning about the other dragons before we jump to their perspectives, the character that we are reading about is already making assumptions and assigning traits that they think correlate with the character in question! We are seeing the world through their eyes and thoughts, so when we move to another perspective, that dragon is doing the exact same thing, even though now we know more about one of the other characters!

And then the fandom gets hissy when the first character gets relegated into the background and assigned some base personality traits, even though that's exactly what happened before.

Personally, I think the ones who suffer from this the MOST are Clay in Arc 1 and Moon in Arc 2. Clay, according to fans, gets boiled down to nothing but his love for food, even though we see in his, Sunny's, and Peril's perspectives that he's more than that. His behaviors also directly correlate to why he gets that kind of background trait (although that's a whole other rant), and every time I see someone saying that Clay got screwed over by characterization, I take psychic damage.

And Moon. God, yall, Moon gets it THE WORST FROM YOU. I've seen SO MANY POSTS about how she got boiled down to nothing but a love triangle piece in the later arcs, which is only partly true, but we also see from ALL OF THOSE PERSPECTIVES (Qibli and Winter specifically) that the traits they're assigning her are both different aspects of how her character worked in the first book and what two lovestruck, moons-blinded dumbasses are seeing and choosing to view her as.

Her book even SHOWS how much of a NIGHTMARE it would be to have every character be deep and know their inner thoughts at all times. Moon herself gets mentally and physically overwhelmed near CONSTANTLY during the majority of her book, and I'm not even technically factoring in Darkstalkers' influence.

All of that to say, Wings of Fire fandom, is to stop losing your SHIT over how your characters might seem flat or not like they were in their books. All of these perspectives are different, and if you motherfuckers actually took some time to reread the books while actively LOOKING for those hints of your silly guys being the same silly guys, just from another dragon's POV, then maybe yall wouldn't be so pissed off about characterization in the books nearly HALF as often.

I don't even care how much discourse this is gonna spark I just felt the incredible urge to tell yall to use those skills you learned in English class and chill the FUCK OUT on this topic.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Now go use your eyes :>

.

[purplepixel]

Part of me hates to reblog something like this, bc the screenshotted post makes me physically ill, but damn you are right op and this needs to be said.

TW // Racism, Homophobic rhetoric

In case anyone has missed it, this person started spewing bigotry after the controversy with white washing april. Which instead of apologizing and learning from her mistake, she buckled down and drew april with black face as a response.

Then came the homophobic rant. The post is now deleted but it is your typical conservative christian rhetoric backed up by "The Bible". How queer people are disgusting and they are wrong for just living their life. Followed up by the classic "love the sinner hate the sin"

Which for the record, if anyone following me believes that statement, leave right now. I am looking at every Christian rise fan with my two eyes and telling you: if you believe this statement, You are just as bad if not worse as someone actively spewing blatant homophobia. I've educated someone in the past why this is a harmful thing to believe and I really hope I got through to them, but I never knew if I did (post is now deleted). I know there are a lot of young people in this fandom and I do believe people can change. This person however? Right now she refuses to and anytime anyone is pointing out what she's saying is harmful, she either doubles down or hides behind her mental health. She refuses to recognize that the stuff she's saying hurts people.

I've had her blocked for awhile so this is the only way I'm finding out about this....recent post. The cherry on top. Normally I like to stay in my own lane and avoid drama or call outs (its why I left twitter), but this goes beyond petty fandom discourse.

I do not tolerate bigotry and neither should you.

I know some of you that follow me, still follow her. Tumblr isn't the best to spread information unless you reblog, so if you didn't know now you know. I personally do not condone the cycle of hatred nor do I promote harassment, but I do know that this isn't ok and we should be more loud that bigotry is not accepted in the rise fandom.

yeah alright ima be that asshole cuz i dont see anyone else doing it

block this person fr this is literally them celebrating trump if you guys cannot put that together (which im not judging if you couldnt tell thats what this was, but i wanna make it clear if you were in the likes and didnt realize) imagine being this fucking cringe where people can see it lmfao

if you dont recognize them theyre doin that disaster twins comic about leo coming back from the dead. block em.

this actually deserves to be shamed. we dont fuckin sit by and accept that shit shame em.

people are gonna start feeling too proud of this DONT LET THEM BE.

[magicalflowerstranger]

✨Outer Banks part 2 - Rafe/Sofia Spoilers ✨

I've just skipped through, mostly for Drew's part as Rafe. And I must say, when Rafe got on his knees with his mothers ring and proposed to Sofia? TEARS. ''I wanted you to have it before I left so you know we are real''. SOBBING ON THE FLOOR. All the things he said? They had my heart so fuzzy. When she tried to confess and he was all ''There's things about me that you don't know. Way worse then whatever you got to say. I guarantee it. I don't care what you did. I don't care to know. I wanna be with you. I want you to quit your job. I want you to move in with me. '' and man hands her the house keys like ''I'll be back in a few weeks. Stay at our place. I love you''.

His commitment and how he loves as a boyfriend was so touching. Wanting her to quit her job and not have to struggle being exhausted? Saying it's their home when she has not contribute at all or payed a dime? My heart. That's why it hurt so much to see. You obviously know it's not going to have a happy ending. When Rafe learns about Sofia's deal, you can see how much it breaks Rafe's heart. He finally for once in his life, had someone he trusted. I can only imagine how you would feel as a person. Having hope for once only for it to be an illusion. We all knew he was not going to take the betrayal well. He's Rafe. But ''Pack your shit and get out of my house. God after everything I've done for you? We're done. We're DONE''. Offff. I do think that they will get back together as a couple. I don't believe that they would introduce Sofia and then just have her leave. She's been a pretty significant part of his life. It will be interesting to see how it pans out next season, but I do believe him having mended his relationship with Sarah, will help - in him having some emotional stability and security

[taddymason]

if you ever write that rant about the administration and post it PLEEEASE tag me in it i'd love to read your thoughts about whatever they have going on over there

TRUST ME, I'VE BEEN WANTING TO MAKE A POST TALKING ABOUT HOW THE ADMINISTRATION IS THE WORST PLACE JAY COULD HAVE WOKE UP IN AFTER THE MERGE!! yes, it's even worse than imperium

SO- I feel like we focus a lot on the comedic aspect of agents being incompetent, but for me it falls back on negligence, which is the same reason why Jay is the way he is as a manager. It's not that Jay doesn't have the skills to be a good manager, far from it, he could be doing a really good job, if he had his memories I'm pretty sure he'd be doing the same thing he did in prime empire and would oppose that whole shitty system.

But no. Like I said, it's not incompetence, it's that jay just doesn't care. His actions have no consequences that he can see, and I'm sure that every other department head in that place is equally or even more negligent and just doesn't care when things go wrong. It's a small world where everyone is seen as a tool to get the job done day in and day out, with no purpose other than that.

I also like how it all ties back into the fact that the Administration is in the Realm of Madness of all places. Doc said in a tweet that they were inspired by The Trial, and it shows because it also gives a good idea of ​​how absurd and distressing this whole system must have been for Jay when he woke up. It’s made to be a pointless maze. And it’s the worst kingdom for someone like him to wake up in, because the worst thing that could happen to him after, yk, losing all trace of his identity is starting over in a place where no one would care about that. Which also interestingly ties into Jay's alienation and inability to develop his own identity within this society. And as a consequence he obviously ends up becoming a shitty person in the process, because if he cares to go back and think about everything he's lost, he'd probably go crazy because everyone acts there like it doesn't matter.

I know we have like uh- two scenes from agent walker and this rant is actually mostly inspired by reading The Trial, but god, I wish we got more of jay living in the administration because it's a place that contradicts everything he's learned throughout the show, that contradicts what unlocked his true potential and I'm just saying it would be so interesting to see how he's had to develop this selfless shit personality to survive there. And I really would have loved to see how he goes from suddenly rejecting all the stability and security of the administration to escape, but whatever

Ye I'm not normal about the administration and agent walker, in case the 60k fic of jay living there didn't make that obvious

[igglemouse]

It's Friday and for some reason it feels a little peculiar, a little off. The air is a buzz with some kind of weird energy and I don't know why but I have feeling today will be a very memorable day. Just a feeling!

I told you today would be an odd day as Candela, yes, that Candela, texts me? My heart skips a beat as I read the message, confused at what I'm seeing as uncertainty kicks in. Could it be her? I thought I'd never see her again and while she's always been a close friend I wonder...do I want it to be her? Do I want that piece of my past dipping back into my life? Would I want her back in my life? Definitely, but I worry about how much of the past she might drag into my current mostly happy life. I tried to call her but I got nothing back. Maybe that is for the best.

I was ready to dwell on it maybe investigate it further but Pascal comes sweeping into the room, angry about something, likely his kick ball thing. It's always about futbol with him isn't it? I'm proven correct the moment he opens his mouth.

"It's the manager," he starts and his whole face is tinted with his anger. "I keep telling him he plays me too deep, I need to be up more, attacking more! We would have won if-"

"Pascal, my dear, I have no idea what you are talking about," I really have no clue.

"I'm trying to win games here and I'm not sure what he's trying to do? Prove a point? He claims we win the ball more when I play-"

"Pascal!" I reach out for him, my hands finding his shoulders and arms, squeezing, getting a handle of him because he is really worked up about this. "You are speaking another language right now!" I joke, hoping to add levity to our conversation.

"Right," he calms down at once, settling down just enough so that he could think clearly. "You are right. I just wanted to vent, can't vent to the team because that could cause issues you know-"

"Oh," now I feel slightly bad. I have been meaning to learn more about this sports ball game he plays but I've been so busy and tired and pregnant. "Well, yes, you can vent to me! I just want you to know you might have to do more explaining is all!" He really seems to like that and I love that I calmed him down!

Pascal goes off to work and that left me here cleaning which is fine since I feel like I'm really just passing time. I don't have a food stand anymore so for now I have shifted into the more domestic kind of role. I'm sure once I do officially become a mama I'll have less and less time so maybe I should just enjoy the time I have right now!

Despite my feeling that something special might happen today nothing does. It plods on as a normal day but at least Sara decides to stop by and has a new hairstyle as well? I think she looks amazing with it! I wonder if this is because of her new mysterious boyfriend in any way?

"I love it! It frames your face perfectly!" Doesn't it? I can't help but gush about her new style and the smile on her face tells me she's happy with it too.

"Yeah, I was skeptical right after but waking up in the morning and seeing my reflection? Yeah, yeah, I look good, don't I?"

I beam my approval, she does, she's always have. She would struggle with her confidence but you know ladies sometimes a new hairstyle is all you need. "Is the new mystery guy the motivation or?"

That question makes her look a little doubtful and maybe even slightly offended? "No, no, I think he liked my old style to be honest? I just felt like...it was time to change something up?" She seemed uncertain about it, maybe the change was just a whim she had and went with it. Sometimes you have to go with the flow.

"A change is all you really need sometimes!" I chime in to reassure her and she gives me a small smile. Just then, it felt like the right time to dive into her love life or more particular this mystery guy. I was just ready to open my mouth when she beats me to it.

"What about you and Pascal?" She asks, curious as always. "He's been having a rough time out on the pitch lately."

I'm ready to ask what's wrong but she's eager to explain, taking a long breath. "I think they just haven't found the right spot for him, the right space. Chemistry issues. He started the season blazing hot but has slowed down some. I think the defenses are starting to key in on him, getting rough with him, frustrating him-"

"Oh," and I was listening intently but again, she's speaking a new language to me, one I haven't even tried learning. "I wish I knew what you were talking about."

She chuckles and waves it off. "Ah, it's just a kids game, but I guess it is taken a little seriously?" She then looked at my belly which is now hard to ignore. "You are huuuuuge!"

"Yeah, I'm just ready for her to come out at this point," I give my belly a few pats and she responds with a kick, maybe she's ready too.

"I'm definitely not looking forward to that whole process myself!"

"Oh?" My eyebrow raises because I think this is the first time she's talked about becoming a mom. "Are you and ummm, your mystery guy, you two are serious then?"

"I...maybe? It feels right, you know? It just feels...right. He's a good man, dedicated, attentive, driven. It feels right."

I nod, even though I'm not sure I fully understand. This pregnancy was unplanned for me. I'm not saying I regret it, far from it, but life is certainly coming at me fast. So I find that my only reply can be "Sometimes you have to listen to your gut," but I also realize this is my chance. "This guy, who is he? Can I at least get a name?"

She chuckles softly. "Oh, yeah sure, I guess that isn't big deal! It's Simo-"

"Sara?!?!" I cut her off, I wanted to know, I did but... "I-it's go time! C-can you drive?!"

I am thankful Sara was there since I doubted Pascal could make it home in time. She was steady and serious and once at the hospital things really started to just...happen. Needles, nurses, doctors, all in a flurry. All moving in a practiced ritual and moving a sone as if they were a team that had done this hundreds of times before. Maybe they have. I knew I was in good hands but still that wouldn't stop the fear. What if something goes wrong? What if she's not...whole? What if she comes out wrong? What if...

"Don't worry Miss Varela, your vitals are good, everything is fine, she's going to be beautiful," the doctor tells me. I take a deep breath and calm down.

After the 'pre-game' it was time for the first kick. I'll be honest and say it was not fun. All I remember from it was pain and the mantra of push and breathe, push and breath, push and breath, push and breath, push and breath, push and breath, push and breath...

For a moment I wondered when it would end. Hours had passed, how many I could not be sure, but eventually magic begun and after crying and wailing and pain and blood and tears I was holding her. She wriggled and screamed her lungs out, my little Florencia.

Frida Varela - Next Episode 8.5

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

This poll as well as recent conversations I've had is really helping me realise that I actually had amazing sex ed my whole life. It wasn't perfect (and a lot of my other schooling wasn't either), but honestly I'd say it was better than good!

In Year 5 (9-10), primary school - had a few lessons on puberty, a short one from our main teacher and then another one later where they separated the boys and girls. A professional lady came in to talk about the dawning of our boobs and periods and other bodily changes. They also talked about penises briefly but not in much detail. I can only assume the boys got the same talk but in reverse wrt detail. Didn't go deeply into partnered sex but wet dreams and masturbation were mentioned.

Year 6 (10-11), different primary school - taught us more about sex. It was a incredibly heteronormative (I specifically remember them describing the act as "a special hug between a man and a woman that can lead to a baby), but comprehensive and did emphasise that sex could also be for pleasure. We did worksheets where we had to label the body parts and watched some videos with naked cartoons ans scientific diagrams. Again stuff like masturbation and wet dreams were brought up in a normal and not shameful way.

Year 7 (11-12), all girls secondary school - had a professional lady come in again to tell us about our changing bodies and hormones and stuff in great detail in first term. Gave us free tampons and pads, explained that there's no shame in using either. Started talking about sex both from a scientific perspective in biology and a personal perspective in PSHE, around the same time which I think really helped bring the message home. Second term a different professional came in to talk to us about like, sexual feelings and hormones and slut shaming/virgin shaming in teen culture.

Year 8 (12-13), learned more about protection and all of the options available to us in terms of hormonal birth control and physical like condoms. Again, that happened both in biology and PSHE to really drive the point home. Later on in Geography we discussed Africa for a full term and about two weeks of that were focused on how AIDS spread rapidly because condoms weren't made accessible and how important they can be not just as birth control but also for personal safety. Did tell us though that people with AIDS are fully capable of living full and healthy lives and it's not inherently a death sentence. We also had a day long workshop with many activities where we talked about different kinds of relationships. This wasn't inherently sex ed, but it did get brought up in the context of many relationships can involve sex - and these don't have to be marital or even romantic. We talked in detail about consent in relationships, both to do with sex and otherwise and how to recognise the signs of abuse. And we also talked about same sex relationships during that workshop which was nice :)

Year 9 (13-14), had another day-long workshop like the relationships one but this time it was purely about sex. Once again talked in depth about consent, slut shaming, and virgin shaming etc. Went over all the different birth control methods available to us and talked about their effectiveness. Practiced putting condoms on bananas. Even talked a little bit about lesbian sex and how you can practice safety whilst doing that. Were given the option to take home free condoms.

Again it wasn't perfect by any means and especially at the all girls school it was very cis-woman-with-a-vagina centric. But for me, as a perisex afab who for now hasn't transitioned medically at all, I have found myself really benefiting from the stuff I learned back then in my adult life! I would love if they'd talked more about trans bodies and experiences - and honestly, knowing that school it's fairly likely that they now do! All of these experiences are from like 2012-2017. A lot of the stuff we learned about gay sex had only been introduced a year prior, to my knowledge.

"Abstinence-focused" meaning that a large underlying message of the sex education you received was "don't have sex [before marriage]."

If you had sex ed at multiple different times, vote according to whichever was better.

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We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.