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Planet's Fucked: What Can You Do To Help? (Long Post)
Since nobody is talking about the existential threat to the climate and the environment a second Trump term/Republican government control will cause, which to me supersedes literally every other issue, I wanted to just say my two cents, and some things you can do to help. I am a conservation biologist, whose field was hit substantially by the first Trump presidency. I study wild bees, birds, and plants.
In case anyone forgot what he did last time, he gagged scientists' ability to talk about climate change, he tried zeroing budgets for agencies like the NOAA, he attempted to gut protections in the Endangered Species Act (mainly by redefining 'take' in a way that would allow corporations to destroy habitat of imperiled species with no ramifications), he tried to do the same for the Migratory Bird Treaty Act (the law that offers official protection for native non-game birds), he sought to expand oil and coal extraction from federal protected lands, he shrunk the size of multiple national preserves, HE PULLED US OUT OF THE PARIS CLIMATE AGREEMENT, and more.
We are at a crucial tipping point in being able to slow the pace of climate change, where we decide what emissions scenario we will operate at, with existential consequences for both the environment and people. We are also in the middle of the Sixth Mass Extinction, with the rate of species extinctions far surpassing background rates due completely to human actions. What we do now will determine the fate of the environment for hundreds or thousands of years - from our ability to grow key food crops (goodbye corn belt! I hated you anyway but), to the pressure on coastal communities that will face the brunt of sea level rise and intensifying extreme weather events, to desertification, ocean acidification, wildfires, melting permafrost (yay, outbreaks of deadly frozen viruses!), and a breaking down of ecosystems and ecosystem services due to continued habitat loss and species declines, especially insect declines. The fact that the environment is clearly a low priority issue despite the very real existential threat to so many people, is beyond my ability to understand. I do partly blame the public education system for offering no mandatory environmental science curriculum or any at all in most places. What it means is that it will take the support of everyone who does care to make any amount of difference in this steeply uphill battle.
There are not enough environmental scientists to solve these issues, not if public support is not on our side and the majority of the general public is either uninformed or actively hostile towards climate science (or any conservation science).
So what can you, my fellow Americans, do to help mitigate and minimize the inevitable damage that lay ahead?
I'm not going to tell you to recycle more or take shorter showers. I'll be honest, that stuff is a drop in the bucket. What does matter on the individual level is restoring and protecting habitat, reducing threats to at-risk species, reducing pesticide use, improving agricultural practices, and pushing for policy changes. Restoring CONNECTIVITY to our landscape - corridors of contiguous habitat - will make all the difference for wildlife to be able to survive a changing climate and continued human population expansion.
**Caveat that I work in the northeast with pollinators and birds so I cannot provide specific organizations for some topics, including climate change focused NGOs. Scientists on tumblr who specialize in other fields, please add your own recommended resources. **
We need two things: FUNDING and MANPOWER.
You may surprised to find that an insane amount of conservation work is carried out by volunteers. We don't ever have the funds to pay most of the people who want to help. If you really really care, consider going into a conservation-related field as a career. It's rewarding, passionate work.
At the national level, please support:
The Nature Conservancy
Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation
Cornell Lab of Ornithology (including eBird)
National Audubon Society
Federal Duck Stamps (you don't need to be a hunter to buy one!)
These first four work to acquire and restore critical habitat, change environmental policy, and educate the public. There is almost certainly a Nature Conservancy-owned property within driving distance of you. Xerces plays a very large role in pollinator conservation, including sustainable agriculture, native bee monitoring programs, and the Bee City/Bee Campus USA programs. The Lab of O is one of the world's leaders in bird research and conservation. Audubon focuses on bird conservation. You can get annual memberships to these organizations and receive cool swag and/or a subscription to their publications which are well worth it. You can also volunteer your time; we need thousands of volunteers to do everything from conducting wildlife surveys, invasive species removal, providing outreach programming, managing habitat/clearing trails, planting trees, you name it. Federal Duck Stamps are the major revenue for wetland conservation; hunters need to buy them to hunt waterfowl but anyone can get them to collect!
THERE ARE DEFINITELY MORE, but these are a start.
Additionally, any federal or local organizations that seek to provide support and relief to those affected by hurricanes, sea level rise, any form of coastal climate change...
At the regional level:
These are a list of topics that affect major regions of the United States. Since I do not work in most of these areas I don't feel confident recommending specific organizations, but please seek resources relating to these as they are likely major conservation issues near you.
PRAIRIE CONSERVATION & PRAIRIE POTHOLE WETLANDS
DRYING OF THE COLORADO RIVER (good overview video linked)
PROTECTION OF ESTUARIES AND SALTMARSH, ESPECIALLY IN THE DELAWARE BAY AND LONG ISLAND (and mangroves further south, everglades etc; this includes restoring LIVING SHORELINES instead of concrete storm walls; also check out the likely-soon extinction of saltmarsh sparrows)
UNDAMMING MAJOR RIVERS (not just the Colorado; restoring salmon runs, restoring historic floodplains)
NATIVE POLLINATOR DECLINES (NOT honeybees. for fuck's sake. honeybees are non-native domesticated animals. don't you DARE get honeybee hives to 'save the bees')
WILDLIFE ALONG THE SOUTHERN BORDER (support the Mission Butterfly Center!)
INVASIVE PLANT AND ANIMAL SPECIES (this is everywhere but the specifics will differ regionally, dear lord please help Hawaii)
LOSS OF WETLANDS NATIONWIDE (some states have lost over 90% of their wetlands, I'm looking at you California, Ohio, Illinois)
INDUSTRIAL AGRICULTURE, esp in the CORN BELT and CALIFORNIA - this is an issue much bigger than each of us, but we can work incrementally to promote sustainable practices and create habitat in farmland-dominated areas. Support small, local farms, especially those that use soil regenerative practices, no-till agriculture, no pesticides/Integrated Pest Management/no neonicotinoids/at least non-persistent pesticides. We need more farmers enrolling in NRCS programs to put farmland in temporary or permanent wetland easements, or to rent the land for a 30-year solar farm cycle. We've lost over 99% of our prairies to corn and soybeans. Let's not make it 100%.
INDIGENOUS LAND-BACK EFFORTS/INDIGENOUS LAND MANAGEMENT/TEK (adding this because there have been increasing efforts not just for reparations but to also allow indigenous communities to steward and manage lands either fully independently or alongside western science, and it would have great benefits for both people and the land; I know others on here could speak much more on this. Please platform indigenous voices)
HARMFUL ALGAL BLOOMS (get your neighbors to stop dumping fertilizers on their lawn next to lakes, reduce agricultural runoff)
OCEAN PLASTIC (it's not straws, it's mostly commercial fishing line/trawling equipment and microplastics)
A lot of these are interconnected. And of course not a complete list.
At the state and local level:
You probably have the most power to make change at the local level!
Support or volunteer at your local nature centers, local/state land conservancy non-profits (find out who owns&manages the preserves you like to hike at!), state fish & game dept/non-game program, local Audubon chapters (they do a LOT). Participate in a Christmas Bird Count!
Join local garden clubs, which install and maintain town plantings - encourage them to use NATIVE plants. Join a community garden!
Get your college campus or city/town certified in the Bee Campus USA/Bee City USA programs from the Xerces Society
Check out your state's official plant nursery, forest society, natural heritage program, anything that you could become a member of, get plants from, or volunteer at.
Volunteer to be part of your town's conservation commission, which makes decisions about land management and funding
Attend classes or volunteer with your land grant university's cooperative extension (including master gardener programs)
Literally any volunteer effort aimed at improving the local environment, whether that's picking up litter, pulling invasive plants, installing a local garden, planting trees in a city park, ANYTHING. make a positive change in your own sphere. learn the local issues affecting your nearby ecosystems. I guarantee some lake or river nearby is polluted
MAKE HABITAT IN YOUR COMMUNITY. Biggest thing you can do. Use plants native to your area in your yard or garden. Ditch your lawn. Don't use pesticides (including mosquito spraying, tick spraying, Roundup, etc). Don't use fertilizers that will run off into drinking water. Leave the leaves in your yard. Get your school/college to plant native gardens. Plant native trees (most trees planted in yards are not native). Remove invasive plants in your yard.
On this last point, HERE ARE EASY ONLINE RESOURCES TO FIND NATIVE PLANTS and LEARN ABOUT NATIVE GARDENING:
Xerces Society Pollinator Conservation Resource Center
Pollinator Pathway
Audubon Native Plant Finder
Homegrown National Park (and Doug Tallamy's other books)
National Wildlife Federation Native Plant Finder (clunky but somewhat helpful)
Heather Holm (for prairie/midwest/northeast)
MonarchGard w/ Benjamin Vogt (for prairie/midwest)
Native Plant Trust (northeast & mid-atlantic)
Grow Native Massachusetts (northeast)
Habitat Gardening in Central New York (northeast)
There are many more - I'm not familiar with resources for western states. Print books are your biggest friend. Happy to provide a list of those.
Lastly, you can help scientists monitor species using citizen science. Contribute to iNaturalist, eBird, Bumblebee Watch, or any number of more geographically or taxonomically targeted programs (for instance, our state has a butterfly census carried out by citizen volunteers).
In short? Get curious, get educated, get involved. Notice your local nature, find out how it's threatened, and find out who's working to protect it that you can help with. The health of the planet, including our resilience to climate change, is determined by small local efforts to maintain and restore habitat. That is how we survive this. When government funding won't come, when we're beat back at every turn trying to get policy changed, it comes down to each individual person creating a safe refuge for nature.
Thanks for reading this far. Please feel free to add your own credible resources and organizations.
#us election#climate change#united states election#resources#native plants#this took 3 hours to write so maybe don't let it flop? i know i write long posts. i know i follow scientists on here#that study birds and corals and other creatures#i realize i did not link sources/resources for everything. i encourage those more qualified to add things on. i need to go to work
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UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 1/?]
summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!
content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)
notes: hi friends !! wow, been a hot min since i wrote something of this caliber. feels good to be back in biz ;D did you all miss persephone! suguru? because there's a LOT of him here >_< i really wanted to publish this as a oneshot but....tumblr hates me so now it's gonna be a chaptered series! oh , joy! ps @nappingmoon i got u bae, this one is for you.
read on ao3! ● series masterlist
➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]
you never really set out to be the face of smut-lit.
in fact, you weren’t even really a face at all — just a “faceless” author penning scandalous stories for fans who devoured them, and haters who, well… tried to eat you alive.
you’d started out innocently enough, scribbling down your little fantasies and tropes that no self-respecting romance book would touch. then one day, a friend dared you to post one on booktok.
you thought, "fuck it" and uploaded a snippet of your latest brainchild: a steamy billionaire x star-crossed chef fic called hunger games: not that kind of hungerer. it was, admittedly, extra spicy.
and oh, did the internet have thoughts.
soon, your comments section and dm’s became a battleground for all opinions on “what qualifies as literature.” gems included:
who even writes this crap? did a middle schooler steal her mom’s laptop? i can feel my brain cells self-destructing as i read this 💀 girl hasn’t even been within a mile radius of a dick and it SHOWS
you'd had to admit… the last comment was right. but hey, they only added to the fuel.
like moths to a flame, they kept coming back, and the trolling just made your followers skyrocket. a lot of people secretly liked the outrageousness, the drama, and the absolute audacity of it all. before long, your books were trending, and you were raking in numbers (and dollars) most “serious” authors could only dream of.
soon, you found yourself the subject of headlines you never thought you’d see:
the faceless queen of spice: how one unknown author is reshaping romance. trolled online, loved in secret—author sells millions in ebook downloads. social media says she has no idea what she’s talking about, but her bank account says otherwise.
and the kicker?
you’d never had sex with anyone, let alone…well, rocked worlds like your characters.
here you were, a smut writer with zero real-life experience, who’d single-handedly created booktok’s, bookstagram and hell, even the people down at twitter's guilty pleasure.
but the day big publishers started knocking on your door, it was surreal, to say the least.
you’d been fully prepared for the anonymous online fame — hell, you’d leaned into it, posting “faceless author life” videos and doing question and answer sessions where you dropped zero identifying details, save for some vague hand gestures and blurred-out backgrounds. but now, major publishing houses wanted in on the action.
“we think your stories have broad market appeal,” one exec had said on a zoom call, trying to make “billionaire mafia love quadrangle” sound dignified. “if we could get them on shelves, we’d reach an audience beyond booktok. international appeal is the goal here!”
suddenly, your filthy, albeit occasionally cringey, tales were going global. they got translated into french (where your enemies-to-lovers series got a fancy new title: l’amour et la haine). your spicy chef saga was reborn in italian as sapore di te, which roughly translated to taste of you (and made you blush, honestly).
and when your personal favorite, the billionaire’s forbidden touch, hit the japanese market, they titled it 禁断の夜 (which… you didn’t even want to know the translation of, because you knew it was even worse than the original).
you had to admit, though, seeing these books spread worldwide made your head spin. what started as a joke online was now somehow sitting next to classics in international bookstores, becoming a hot commodity for fans everywhere.
but the cherry on top?
oh, that came when you opened an email from none other than gojo-sonic, the world-renowned audio company best known for its highly specialized audiobook recordings. they’d taken smut literature to the next level, hiring voice actors who sounded like they were in the room with you, all breathy whispers and seductive baritones. people had raved that these audiobooks were “too real” — like they’d been recorded in a closed room with dim lights and a whole lot of… commitment.
they offered you a multi-million dollar deal to turn your books into experiences.
one of your friends, absolutely losing it, texted you as soon as they heard the news:
homegirl [5:21 pm]: “OMG OMG so you’re gonna do it right?? u realize this means ppl will be hearing ur lil virgin brain’s fantasies out loud in their headphones right” you [5:21 pm]: “no kidding. i’m freaking out. this feels illegal.” homegirl [5:22 pm]: “but u gotta!! pls this is ICONIC.” you [5:24 pm]: “they’re giving me millions. you think i’m saying no? lmao.”
it still felt surreal that soon, the whole world would hear your books come to life with professional voice actors — ones who knew exactly how to tease and breathe and make listeners feel like they were right there.
“bring my fantasies to life, huh?” you muttered to yourself, flipping through the contract that would secure your financial future, all because of your fictional men and their, uh, moves.
who the hell were you to say no to that?
it was surreal enough to get an email from gojo-sonic, but now, sitting across from the ceo himself, gojo satoru, you were starting to wonder if this whole experience was some fever dream.
the man was stunning in an obnoxious, immaculate way. snowy hair, piercing blue eyes, and sunglasses balanced on his head like a headband. and, okay, you had to admit: it was a little weird that he’d named his company after himself — though, frankly, it just fit.
you tried not to laugh when he introduced himself. gojo satoru, ceo of gojo-sonic. the narcissism was off the charts, but so was his charm. as a quick google search before the meeting had revealed, gojo sonic had an impeccable reputation, and there was apparently not a single scandal tied to its name.
“nice to meet you,” you said, shaking his hand and trying to keep your cool. “kinda surprised a guy is running a… company like this. no offense.”
“none taken!” he replied, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. “if i’m honest, i’m probably the last guy anyone would expect here. but,” he shrugged, “it works. my employees say i’m a ‘girl’s girl,’ whatever that means.”
the way he said it so nonchalantly made you smirk. apparently, the term wasn’t a throwaway nickname, either; the gojo-sonic gossip mill painted him as the absolute dream boss. rumor had it he’d given his whole office a free day off because his assistant had been dumped, and when a writer complained about unisex bathrooms making her uncomfortable, he’d personally had a “feminine touch” added to every single stall, complete with pink hand soap and luxurious lotions. he was kind, considerate, a man who just got it.
“people say i’m probably gay,” he added, laughing as if that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “and you know what? let ‘em think what they want.” he gave you a wink. “as long as they keep buying the goods, i couldn’t care less.”
honestly? the guy made a point. did it matter who he was taking home at the end of the day? not at all, as long as your bank account kept racking up zeros.
“speaking of,” he continued, “we’ve got the full studio ready for tomorrow. you’ll meet the voice actors, go over a few sections, and give input as needed. think of it like a live theater production, except it’s your book.”
“oh, i get to… watch them record?” you asked, wondering how mortifying it might be to sit there, watching actors give their all to lines like, “you’re mine tonight, darling.”
yeah, you’d written it, but watching someone breathe life into it was a different level of… embarrassment.
“even better,” gojo grinned, looking far too amused by your nervousness, “you’ll get to guide them. they’ll take direction from you — however you want the line delivered, that’s how they’ll say it.”
“you mean i can… like… make suggestions? on delivery?”
“exactly!” he said with a small clap. “we want it to be perfect. i’ve already arranged for our top voice actor, toji fushiguro, to voice your main character.”
toji fushiguro?
if gojo-sonic was the industry’s top company, toji was the crown jewel of voice acting. the guy was a legend.
he had that smoky, velvet tone that could turn a mundane grocery list into a full-on romance scene. he was also notoriously elusive; some people waited months to get him to even consider their projects. and you — the virgin author who’d stumbled into fame thanks to trolls and booktok — had him voicing your main character?
“wait, toji fushiguro is doing this?” you asked, jaw practically on the floor.
gojo chuckled, looking far too pleased with your reaction. “yep! i think you two are going to work great together. he’s intense but flexible; really good at taking feedback.”
you tried to imagine giving feedback to toji fushiguro of all people.
“um, maybe say ‘you’re mine’ with more… conviction?”
“can you sound a bit more possessive on that line?”
“i, uh…” you managed, trying to swallow your nerves. “okay. yeah. sounds… good.”
“great! i think you’ll be amazed. toji’s professionalism is unmatched, and he’ll bring exactly the level of…” Gojo paused, grinning, “intensity you need to really make your character come to life.”
“good luck tomorrow! i’ll make sure everything’s set up perfectly,” gojo had assured you with a big grin as you left the office. “don’t stress about a thing. our identities are always kept top secret here. toji’s included! he’s never done a face reveal, and your privacy is just as ironclad.”
oh god. tomorrow, you were really going to sit there while toji fushiguro acted out lines you’d written on a whim in your pajamas.
sure, not stressing sounded like a logical plan. but after that surreal conversation — and the realization that tomorrow morning, you’d be face-to-face with the one and only toji fushiguro, hearing him breathe life into your raunchiest fantasies — you did what any responsible, mature adult would do.
you headed straight to the nearest bar and got sloshed.
by the time you were three cocktails deep, the reality of tomorrow’s “firsts” hit you like a ton of bricks. first real direction on an audiobook, first time meeting a voice actor, first time dealing with your own steaminess out loud, and — oh god — the cherry on top, it was toji fushiguro himself.
sure, you thought, sipping from your fourth drink and trying not to scream as lana del rey sings “it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you,” i might be slightly freaking out.
another cocktail slid your way. you squinted, unsure if you'd ordered it or if the bartender was just reading your general mood, because yeah, you did look like someone who needed another round.
“tough night?”
“tough tomorrow.” you swirled your drink, laughing to yourself. “i mean… you ever written a, uh, totally inappropriate novel and had to watch a famous guy turn it into audio?”
“…can’t say that i have.”
you shrugged, downing a bit more of the drink, when the song on the speakers switched to avril lavigne’s complicated. fitting, given that your life had just become exactly that.
“why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?” avril sang, like she knew.
the bartender, apparently used to the types who showed up for existential crises alone, leaned against the counter. “sounds like big stuff tomorrow, then. what kind of work do you do, anyway?”
“oh, just… smutty novels,” you said, letting it slip before you could stop yourself. “just… page after page of absolutely shameless, absurd filth. and now i’m, y’know, supposed to direct the guy. to make it sound like he’s really, um, in the moment.”
the bartender chuckled, raising a brow. “sounds intense.”
“you have no idea.” you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “he’s this insanely talented voice actor. i mean, they’ve got toji fushiguro in there, which is like… god. if he knew who i actually was, he’d probably laugh.”
why’d you have to go and make things so complicated? avril continued wailing, her words your accidental anthem.
“well, whatever happens,” the bartender said, passing you a glass of water with a grin, “sounds like you’re about to have a pretty interesting morning.”
“i’ll drink to that,” you muttered, clinking your cocktail glass against the water. you downed it, hoping that somehow, it might chase the nerves away.
and as everytime we touch, i get this feeling started blasting on the speakers, you couldn’t help but shake your head with a groan. if there was a playlist made for romantic embarrassment, it was definitely playing tonight.
in your half-sloshed state, it seemed like a good idea to turn to the stranger who’d just sauntered up to the bar — a ridiculously hot stranger, tall with dark hair, and a scar slashing right across his lip. it was the kind of look that would’ve inspired an entire chapter in one of your books, but as of right now? it was just inspiring some truly regrettable choices.
“goodness gracious, great balls of fire,” you muttered to yourself, just loud enough to catch his attention, which felt smooth, in your totally buzzed opinion. so, of course, you swung around on your stool, plastering on what you hoped was an alluring smile.
oh god, here we go. “hey there, handsome…” you paused, hiccuping “… you come here often?”
the stranger raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, leaning an elbow against the bar with a smirk that could kill. “depends,” he said, voice low and rough. “you, uh, always this friendly after a few drinks?”
oh god.
oh god.
but you couldn’t stop now.
you were committed.
you were bold.
with all the poise of a drunk giraffe, you propped your elbow on the bar and leaned in closer, pointing a finger at his chest — totally unintentionally, because your depth perception was off by, oh, about a mile. “well, what can i say,” you replied, attempting a sultry grin. “good-lookin’ guys like you… don’t come around often enough, mister.”
“it’s like i’m drunk off your love,” played from the speakers, not helping your case at all.
oh god, this was actually happening.
he actually laughed, a warm, deep chuckle, as he watched you struggle through whatever pickup line was about to escape your lips.
he tilted his head, that smirk turning up a notch. “should i be flattered?”
“you should!” you exclaimed, with a bit too much enthusiasm. “you’re like… i dunno, like one of my… you look like a… a fictional character.”
smooth, real smooth.
“oh yeah?” his smirk widened. “so, what am i, a prince?”
“more like…” you bit your lip, trying to focus, “an antihero with a… tragic past and just enough softness in his heart to make him dangerous in all the right ways.”
he looked you up and down, bemusement clear in his eyes. “dangerous in the right ways? is that your type?”
you gave a shaky wink, nearly missing because the world was swimming a bit. “maybe.”
he chuckled, his voice all rich and velvety, and leaned in closer. “so… you’re here alone? i mean, besides all the fictional men you’re envisioning.”
“for now,” you replied, trying to sound mysterious, but it just came out as a bit… wobbly.
the bartender set the stranger’s drink down with a raised eyebrow, and he took a sip, watching you with amused interest. “you know, maybe you should slow down before you scare all the good guys away.”
“oh, trust me,” you replied, hiccuping again. “i don’t scare easy.”
he shook his head, clearly entertained, and you felt yourself glowing under his gaze. you were about to continue — just as soon as the world stopped spinning — when you felt the slightest bit queasy, your stomach reminding you that you’d had one cocktail too many.
the stranger’s amused smirk softened. “you alright there?”
“i’m…” you swallowed. “perfectly fine. just, you know… making sure you’re… getting the full effect of my…” you barely managed the word “…rizz.”
he laughed outright this time, low and warm, like he genuinely couldn’t believe you were real. “is that so? lucky me.”
it was all going so well — okay, not well, but you were holding your own, kind of. you had him laughing, after all, which for someone with approximately zero charisma was an accomplishment! but then the first chords of firework by katy perry blared through the speakers, and as if on cue, your stomach decided to join in the grand finale.
“do you ever feel like a plastic bag,” katy crooned, but for you, it was more like a “do you ever feel like you’re about to ruin your night by barfing on a hot stranger?”
before you could process what was happening, the tequila-fueled fireworks decided to erupt all over this guy’s very expensive-looking shoes.
oh god. oh god.
you looked up, mortified, to find him staring down at his shoes, eyebrows raised. wow, would you look at the time?
run.
“oh… oh no. i… i’m so sorry, i swear this never happens.”
he raised a brow, still looking somewhere between amused and horrified. “well, that’s… comforting?”
you grabbed a napkin, fumbling, still buzzing enough to not know if you should laugh, cry, or just make a run for it.
“guess that’s, uh, one way to make an impression,” he murmured, lips twitching in a smirk even as he assessed the disaster on his shoes.
“oh god. really, i’m… i’m so sorry.” you dabbed helplessly at his shoes with a cocktail napkin, somehow making things worse. “if it helps, i… i normally only vomit on hot guys.”
he chuckled, though you were sure it was mostly at you, and shook his head. “well, it’s one hell of an icebreaker.”
“baby, you’re a firework,” katy sang passionately in the background, but you were already ready to crawl under the bar and disappear forever.
you were surprised — actually, you were shocked — that the stranger hadn’t ditched you after the whole public-vomiting-on-his-shoes fiasco. instead, somehow, he was still right there, leaned in close and casually sipping his drink, just as much a mess as you were. hours had passed, and you’d been rambling about anything and everything, lost in an alcohol-fueled bubble that had turned the night into something you’d never have dreamed of.
maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was the guy’s ridiculously calm attitude, but you’d opened up about your career, the absurdity of writing spicy novels as a faceless author, and even your terror about tomorrow. he’d listened with a smirk, offering the occasional snarky remark or grunt of approval. in return, he’d told you a bit about himself too — well, at least, you thought he did. at some point, the details got hazy.
“so, what do you do?” you asked, squinting at him like it was going to make his face stop swimming in your vision.
he shrugged, swirling his drink and giving a lopsided grin. “something kinda like… acting. you know, nothing glamorous.” there was a hint of amusement there, like he was in on a joke you weren’t.
you squinted harder, your mind pulling up images of random professions. “oh, so like… theater? or like, movies? or wait — commercials? are you one of those guys that has to pretend he’s in love with a bowl of soup?”
he let out a deep laugh, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. “sure, something like that. though i’d like to think i’m a bit more convincing than a soup guy.”
you grinned, leaning in closer, your curiosity fully piqued despite your state. “convincing, huh? so you’re a good actor, then?”
“i do my best,” he said, voice low, that amused glint in his eye again.
“you have to be really good to make people believe in, like, totally unrealistic things, y’know?” you babbled, waving your hand. “like, imagine trying to voice —” you cut yourself off, feeling a hint of embarrassment as you remembered why you’d gotten so sloshed in the first place. the irony of tomorrow, and how this entire conversation felt like it was straight out of one of your own stories.
but before you could get too in your head about it, he tilted his head, looking genuinely interested. “voice what? i’m curious, princess.”
princess. the nickname sent a bolt of something dangerously warm straight through you, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “oh, nothing…” you said, waving him off. “just, you know… the usual. people who… um, make people fall in love with their voice.”
“and what if i told you,” he leaned in even closer, smirking as if he’d just had the best idea ever, “that i could probably do that?”
you rolled your eyes, not believing him one bit. “oh really? think you could pull it off?”
“depends,” he said with a shrug. “what kinda character am i playing?”
you didn’t realize it, but you’d inched even closer, like you were hanging on his every word. “someone… someone rough around the edges,” you started, your voice dropping, completely lost in the moment, “but with a softness underneath. someone who could make the world stop with just a whisper…”
he smirked, eyes never leaving yours, and for a second, you felt like he was taking every word way too seriously. “i think i could manage that.”
you blinked, feeling a blush rise.
this stranger had charisma — like, the kind of charisma you’d thought only existed in your characters.
oh god, maybe you should write him into your next story. you shook yourself, blinking the daydreams away just as he started talking again.
“... and that’s why,” he was saying, “there’s a bit of an art to saying things just right. people think it’s all about the words, but it’s the way you say them that makes it real, y’know?”
you nodded, trying to focus on his words as the room spun just a bit. “so you’re telling me, it’s all in the delivery?”
“exactly.” his gaze dropped to your lips, and he smirked, like he knew exactly what he was doing. “even the… dirtiest lines sound good if you say ’em the right way.”
oh no. that dangerous warmth was back.
somewhere between his intense gaze and that slow, lopsided smirk, dancing queen by abba blared through the bar speakers, jarring you out of your tipsy trance. the upbeat, disco-infused rhythm filled the room, all but laughing at the “moment” you thought you were having with this too-hot-for-reality stranger.
was this a moment? or were you just ridiculously drunk? did he even have a name? or were you just too far gone to have bothered asking?
“you can dance, you can jive,” abba sang, practically mocking you as you stared, wide-eyed, at the man across from you, his scarred lip twisted in a little grin as he watched you piece it all together. he must’ve seen the dawning realization on your face, because he chuckled, reaching for his drink again.
“something wrong, princess?” he asked, leaning forward with a glint of amusement.
oh, great. i’ve already been promoted to ‘princess’ by a guy i might not know the name of. you were seconds away from facepalming.
“uh, nothing,” you said, waving a hand as casually as you could manage. “just, uh, thinking how ironic it is that dancing queen is playing while… we’re, you know…”
“... having a moment?” he teased, clearly enjoying himself.
“well,” you cleared your throat, cheeks blazing, “if you can call me drunkenly staring at you while abba serenades us a ‘moment.’”
“hey, it’s a solid soundtrack choice,” he replied, looking like he was suppressing a laugh. “besides, don’t pretend this isn’t kinda perfect.”
“you think dancing queen is perfect for this?”
he shrugged, sipping his drink. “come on, you’re hammered, i’m here keeping you company, and we’re both, what… living in the moment?” he quirked a brow, his smirk widening as he eyed you, like he was daring you to argue.
and then, maybe out of pure liquid courage, or maybe because the absurdity was too much, you laughed. “yeah, living the moment… with some guy whose name i don’t even know.”
“toji,” he said, offering his hand with a lazy grin, like he’d just handed you a secret.
“toji,” you echoed, shaking his hand. he held on for a second longer than necessary, his gaze never leaving yours.
oh, this guy was trouble, and you were in so deep.
“and you?” he asked, still holding your hand.
you barely managed to whisper your name, but it came out like a sigh, and he repeated it back like it was something precious. “well then,” he said, smirking, “guess that makes two dancing queens tonight.”
“toji…” you muttered, the name slipping off your tongue again as you tried to place it. there was something familiar about it, like you’d heard it before, but in your tequila-drenched state, nothing was sticking.
toji, toji… where had you heard that name?
he cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused as you stared at him like he was the world’s most frustrating puzzle. “something on your mind?”
“n-no,” you stammered, then immediately backpedaled. “wait, actually, yes. toji, right?”
he nodded, a playful gleam in his eye. “that’s the one.”
“toji… toji…” you repeated, squinting at him as if a clearer view would magically connect the dots. and then, it hit you — toji fushiguro.
the voice actor who would be bringing your spicy, shamelessly dramatic main character to life.
the same guy you were supposed to meet tomorrow, the guy who was probably used to making everyone’s knees buckle with just a whisper.
“no way…” you whispered, clutching your head, and you could practically feel the blush creeping up your cheeks. “you — you’re… that toji?”
he gave a slight tilt of his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “what, surprised that i could be both hot and talented?”
you sputtered, trying to backtrack and failing miserably. “no! i mean, yes, but i just — tomorrow — you’re… you’re the guy who’s voicing my main character?”
he leaned back with a smirk, clearly enjoying the whirlwind of emotions he was putting you through. “didn’t think the universe would give you a sneak preview tonight, huh?”
your fuzzy brain struggled to compute this twist of fate. you were drunk, mortified, and beyond flustered, sitting in a bar with the man who’d soon be giving voice to all your filthy, shameless words. this was almost too much.
“oh my god,” you muttered, sinking back in your seat. “i literally threw up on my main character’s shoes.”
toji let out a hearty laugh, patting your shoulder. “hey, if anything, i’d say it’s on-brand for the kind of night you’d write.”
just as you were processing the sheer, ridiculous insanity of the situation, a fresh wave of nausea hit you like a freight train. before you could even react, you leaned forward and… splattered the floor with a decidedly not-dignified stream of bile. this time, it was almost cinematic, complete with a dramatic gagging sound that had you doubling over.
you watched in horror as you once again spewed your insides onto the floor, narrowly missing toji’s shoes but definitely adding a new layer to the already mortifying scene.
you’d probably just hit rock bottom.
“oh, god,” you groaned, covering your mouth with your hand as the bile burned your throat. “i swear… i’m not normally like this.”
toji chuckled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he handed you a stack of napkins the bartender had generously supplied. “i’m starting to think i’m just a little too overwhelming for you, princess.”
you shot him a sheepish look as you wiped your mouth. overwhelming was an understatement.
“yeah, maybe we can leave that out of tomorrow’s team introductions,” you mumbled, trying desperately to pull yourself together.
toji chuckled, tossing a few more napkins your way. “no judgment here. it’s a rough night for a first ‘meet-cute,’ but hey, you’re nothing if not memorable.”
you gripped the napkin, willing yourself to hold it together, at least until you could make a semi-dignified exit. “i don’t even want to know what story you’ll tell people about this.”
toji just laughed, completely unbothered, as if getting vomited on was a regular night for him. “don’t worry, i’ll keep it discreet.” his voice dipped, lowering to a murmur. “for a girl with secrets, i figure you’d appreciate that.”
he lifted his drink and gave you a small toast. “to first meetings — and unforgettable nights. and hey, maybe tomorrow, you’ll surprise me and keep it down.”
oh, god, you thought, as you attempted to bury yourself in your napkin. if only i could crawl under the bar and hide forever.
normally, you wouldn’t wake up with “dancing queen” stuck in your head, but as you nursed the remnants of a truly terrible hangover, it felt almost... pleasant? the upbeat melody cut through the fog of your brain, and you couldn’t help but hum along, even if the lyrics felt like a cruel reminder of your embarrassing escapades from the night before.
“you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life...”
wait, why dancing queen of all songs? you squinted at your alarm clock, your heart racing as the memories started flooding back like a poorly written rom-com. oh.
OH.
your eyes widened as you bolted out of bed with a speed that could make an olympic runner blush, frantically throwing on whatever clothes you could find — did you seriously still have a piece of glitter from last night stuck in your hair? gross! but no time for a shower; you had a meeting to get to at gojo-sonic, and you were about to meet — erm, remeet — toji fushiguro.
“ooh, see that girl, watch that scene, digging the dancing queen...”
as the lyrics blared in your head like an incessant movie soundtrack, you dashed out the door, praying you’d catch a cab in time. the universe couldn’t possibly let you walk into this meeting looking like a hot mess — especially when your main character's voice was waiting on the other side.
“you’re a tease you turn ‘em on…leave ‘em burning and then you’re gone…”
you rolled your eyes at your own ridiculousness. who cared if you’d practically thrown up on the guy? all you had to do was survive your own personal dance-off with fate and hope toji didn’t remember the lovely little details from last night.
you took a deep breath, determined to channel all the confidence you could muster. today was going to be great. right?
as you walked into the meeting room, gojo practically huffed an air of relief. you couldn’t help but think it was a little dramatic — like, it’s just a meeting. you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the last remnants of your hangover and the lingering embarrassment of last night’s vomit-venture.
the room was brightly lit, filled with a few familiar faces, including toji, who was leaning casually against a table with that annoyingly charming grin plastered on his face.
great. you’d somehow forgotten just how hot he was in the light of day.
toji’s presence made your stomach flutter and flip, but you shoved that feeling down — this was business, after all.
you scanned the room and spotted gojo-sonic’s most valued investor suguru geto on a screen in the corner, his hair tied back and eyes sharp as he joined the meeting online. wow, great first impression! with a sudden wave of panic, you could almost hear the dancing queen lyrics mocking you in the back of your mind. what’s next, bursting into song?
“hey, look who finally made it!” toji said, amusement dancing in his eyes. perfect. if he was going to make light of your grand entrance, you had to think fast to steer the conversation away from the disaster that was last night.
“sorry for keeping you all waiting,” you replied, forcing a smile that hopefully didn’t look too forced. “i had... a crazy night.”
toji raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “crazy night, huh? did you bring us any stories?”
you shot him a warning glance, your heart racing as you internally pleaded with him not to say anything that could ruin your career. thankfully, he just chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back, letting the moment hang in the air without any revealing comments.
“i think we’d all like to hear that,” suguru said, his tone teasing as he adjusted the camera. “but let’s save the fun stuff for later, right? we’ve got work to do.”
you nodded, grateful for suguru’s timely intervention. “yes, absolutely! so, uh, about the voice work —”
the atmosphere shifted as the others exchanged knowing glances, and you knew you’d have to tread carefully. this meeting was crucial, and you couldn’t let last night’s incident derail everything you’d worked for. with any luck, maybe you could just keep your foot out of your mouth for the rest of the meeting.
toji always knew he was hot.
i mean, how could he not?
with a jawline that could slice bread and a smirk that could charm the pants off anyone, confidence practically dripped off him like a cologne commercial. but the real question was: how to channel this hotness and turn it into something lucrative? great question!
being a single dad to wasn’t easy, and running from odd job to odd job just to scrape enough money for the brat’s school was proving to be tiresome. until one day, a certain gojo satoru decided to drop a bombshell on him.
“toji, you ever think about using that voice of yours for something... more creative?” gojo asked, leaning back in his office chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
“creative? what, like narrating my life as a sad single dad?” toji replied dryly, rolling his eyes. “because let me tell you, it’s not exactly a page-turner.”
“no, no, hear me out!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing in his seat. “i’m talking about voice acting — specifically, erotic audiobooks. it’s the next big thing!”
toji blinked, momentarily stunned. “you mean to tell me that the former bouncer at an elite club would be voicing erotic audiobooks? saying those weird, cringey lines that women seem to love? you’re insane.”
“think about it! you have the looks, the voice, and the whole mysterious vibe down pat,” gojo urged, waving his hands dramatically. “besides, you need the cash, and i need someone to bring a little... heat to my company.”
“you really think people want to hear me read lines like, ‘take me, you wild beast?’” toji quipped, snorting.
fast forward to his first recording session, where everything seemed to be going smoothly until disaster struck. toji was deep in character, delivering his best sexy voice when — bam! — the bathroom pipe exploded in his tiny flat.
“oh god, yes, just like that —” he started, voice dripping with sultry charm, when suddenly, a muffled splash! interrupted him, followed by megumi’s wail from the other room.
“dad! there’s water everywhere!”
toji cursed under his breath, trying to maintain his composure. “i’m coming! just... give me a second, i’m — ah, it’s getting so hot in here!” he struggled to continue, desperately trying to block out the chaos around him while the sounds of the pipe gushing water filled the audio.
but it turned out hormones took over the technical difficulties, because when the snippet was finally released, women and men of all ages were devouring it like it was the last slice of pizza at a party. it even went viral on tiktok, with cringe-worthy wannabes trying to recreate his sultry lines, failing miserably while toji sat back, amused.
“really? you think you can pull this off?” he chuckled to himself, watching one kid awkwardly mimic him. “nice try, kid. but good luck sounding this good while your mom’s screaming at you for hogging the bathroom.”
because toji wasn’t just a househusband — house father — anymore. he was a household name, and everyone knew him. his rise to fame was a wild ride, but hey, at least now he could afford to get the bathroom fixed — one line at a time.
he could hardly wrap his head around how he’d managed to move out of his tiny, crumbling apartment and into a much better place for him and megumi. it was like waking up one day and realizing he’d accidentally won the lottery. “wait, how did i end up here?” he’d mutter to himself, staring at the pristine walls and polished floors. “and how the hell can i pay megumi’s school fees on time without dodging dirty glares from the accounts office?”
he’d walk into the school, head held high, while megumi proudly puffed out his eight-year-old chest. “my daddy’s an actor!” he’d announce to anyone who would listen. toji couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. i mean, the kid wasn’t wrong. he was acting — acting like he had his life together, at least!
but did his new job stop toji from being a little hoe? oh, hell no.
if anything, the fame went straight to his head — both up and down there, mind you. toji was like a kid in a candy store, and he was using his newfound charm to siphon money from literally every sugar mommy he could find.
and daddies, too, if he was feeling daring.
because people would die to be known as someone “close” to the toji fushiguro.
“oh my god, is that him?” a passerby would whisper, nudging her friend as they walked past toji at a private event.
“i think it is! i heard he’s dating someone famous,” her friend would respond, leaning in as if they were sharing a juicy secret. “i’ve seen him at that new club downtown. he’s just so... magnetic.”
“totally! i mean, if i could get him to call me ‘sweetheart’ just once, i’d die a happy woman,” the first friend would say, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.
toji would smirk to himself, sipping his drink while casually overhearing their chatter. “yep, you’re right. i’m as available as a 24/7 convenience store,” he’d think, reveling in the attention. "i could probably charm the pants off a rock if i tried."
another group of giggling fans would walk by, whispering amongst themselves, “i met him at that charity event last week! he was so sweet! like, did you see the way he talked to everyone? he’s definitely a heartthrob.”
“sweet? you mean hot, right?” one of them would tease, and they’d all burst into laughter.
“please, if he looked at me, i’d die!” another would declare, all starry-eyed.
toji’s smirk widened. “keep it coming, ladies. i’m just here for the show.” he couldn’t deny it; being the center of attention was intoxicating, and he was loving every second of it.
with a wink and a little wave, he’d keep strutting through life like a runway model, knowing full well he had the power to turn heads and keep wallets open. “who knew being a hot voice actor could be this fun?”
great that you’d ask what toji did with all that sweet, sweet cash! save it all for his brat of a son, of course, even if he wouldn’t admit it. beneath that rugged exterior and playful swagger, he had a soft spot for the little sucker.
just the other week, megumi had been rambling on about wanting a really cool new video game console. “but daddy, alllll my friends have one! it’s so unfair!” he’d whined, big blue eyes practically shimmering with hope. toji had rolled his eyes, trying to act tough, but the moment he saw the kid's face, his heart melted like butter on a hot skillet. “fine, but only if you promise to finish your homework first.”
the next day, megumi had unwrapped a brand-new console, complete with all the latest games, and toji had basked in the sheer delight radiating from his son. “this is the best day ever!” megumi had screamed, wrapping his arms around toji’s waist. “thank you, daddy!”
toji grinned like an idiot, pretending to be unimpressed. “yeah, yeah, don’t go losing it on the first day, alright? and remember, no playing after eight!” he was basically a walking contradiction: a grumpy dad who secretly loved being the cool parent.
then there was that time megumi had been obsessed with this rare action figure from his favorite show. toji had seen the way his son’s eyes lit up every time he spotted it in a store, but it was always sold out. so, naturally, when toji found one online at a steep price, he didn’t hesitate. “i’ll just skip my overpriced rum for a week. totally worth it.”
when megumi had opened the package, he’d literally jumped in the air, screeching like a siren. “no way! you got it for me!?” and toji had played it cool, shrugging his shoulders. “what can i say? your dad’s a generous guy.”
of course, this indulgence didn’t go unnoticed by gojo satoru. the six eyes — er, eyes! — of the man always seemed to be on toji, especially when he noticed his friend was splurging just a little too much on himself — like that new leather jacket that looked ridiculously good on him.
“i need a jacket like that,” gojo had muttered to himself, glancing at his own wardrobe with disappointment.
whenever toji treated himself, gojo would quietly slide a check over to him, nonchalantly muttering, “just a little something for megumi’s school expenses.”
some people would have viewed it as offensive or patronizing, but not toji. he’d always laughed it off, feeling grateful instead. in his mind, gojo was like a guardian angel — “if guardian angels wore sunglasses and had a taste for expensive sweets.” he saw it as gojo looking out for megumi, which made toji’s heart swell with warmth. “who else would want to help raise my kid? might as well accept it.”
“just don’t make a habit of it, alright?” toji would say with a teasing grin. “i don’t need you spoiling him more than i do.”
“too late,” gojo would quip, already plotting ways to sneak more gifts into megumi’s life. “it’s my new hobby.”
so, when gojo casually dropped the bomb that toji would be voicing one of the hottest, trending smut book — “mating with the demon king” or something equally ridiculous — toji shrugged it off. “simple enough job,” he thought. “and it must be good if they came to me for it.”
but when gojo suggested he read the book to get an idea of the material — “just a little prep work,” he’d said with that infuriatingly charming grin — things took a wild turn.
big mistake, toji would later reflect as he flipped through the pages, his eyebrows shooting up higher than a roller coaster. “who writes this stuff?” he muttered, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.
the content was downright depraved. there were scenes that had him questioning his entire existence.
“‘he thrust into her like a man possessed, each stroke igniting a fire within her’ — what even is that?” he read aloud, only to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness. megumi, playing quietly in the other room, wondered why his daddy was cackling like a madman.
“uh, daddy? why are you reading that out loud?” megumi had peeked in, eyes wide with curiosity. toji quickly scrambled to shut the book. “uh, just… learning about, uh, cooking techniques!” he stammered, trying to play it cool. “you wouldn’t get it, buddy.”
but the laughter continued to bubble out of him, and he couldn’t help but read some of the more ludicrous lines. “‘his lips found her collarbone, trailing heat like a wildfire’ — who even talks like that?” he shook his head, utterly bemused.
by the end of the chapter, he was howling. “‘she gasped as he swept her off her feet and into a world of ecstasy’ — oh please!” toji chortled, clutching his stomach, imagining how this would all sound through a microphone. “my kid is gonna think i’ve lost my goddamn mind.”
but hey, if this job was going to pay the bills, he figured he could endure a little humiliation. “it’s all in a day’s work, right?” he muttered to himself, finally accepting that he was now the voice of “mating with the demon king.”
all that reading really took its toll on toji — physically, mentally, spiritually even. after hours spent tripping over lines like “pressed against the throbbing heat of his desire” (yeah, that one took five tries to get through without laughing), he needed to clear his head. so, he found himself at a bar, halfway through a drink, hoping to numb the embarrassment he’d just endured in the name of rent money.
then stumbles this stranger — a cute, very tipsy stranger who quickly parked herself right next to him and started chatting him up, wide-eyed and slightly unsteady. great, drunk people, he thought, resisting an eyeroll as she grinned at him, looking ready to either start a fight or profess her love.
maybe both.
of course, what are the odds she’d go ahead and throw up on his shoes? yes, his brand-new shoes, because, apparently, the universe had decided that tonight, toji fushiguro would be the world’s personal punching bag. “can’t even get through one drink without some shit happening,” he muttered to himself as she looked up at him with a horrified expression. “we’re off to a great start here, huh?”
after some water and some awkward apologies (mostly her apologizing, mostly him trying not to laugh), they fell into surprisingly decent conversation. she was rambling about her job, the stress, the weird demands — stuff he could sympathize with, honestly.
and that’s when he dropped it, just for fun: “i’m a voice actor.”
her eyes sparkled with recognition — a little too much recognition, actually, which made him narrow his eyes. “wait, what’s your name?” she asked, suddenly all ears.
“toji. toji fushiguro.”
the second he said it, her face went from curious to horrified to... oh yeah, she knew exactly who he was. “wait,” she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. “you’re... you’re the voice actor for my book.”
toji raised an eyebrow, deadpan.
so this was the writer, the one who wrote all that nonsense he’d been struggling through for days. well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top. not only was this his boss but also the very person responsible for phrases like “pulsing need” and “moans spilling like honey.” and she’d just puked on him.
talk about a power move.
“small world,” he said, his tone dry as desert sand. wonderful, he thought. my boss threw up on me. but, hey, the night was still young.
he took a long sip from his drink, hoping she wouldn’t take this as an excuse to unleash some kind of creative critique.
“i... i didn’t know you’d be here,” she stammered, a shade redder than before, probably realizing what this made her look like — her, the lady behind the “throbbing heat of desire” shtick.
“don’t worry,” he said, giving her a smirk. “i won’t tell anyone the literary mastermind responsible for all that... romance has a weak stomach.”
you probably don’t remember much after you composed yourself following that second round of projectile embarrassment — but don’t worry, toji remembers. the man’s got a steel trap for the kinds of memories you’d prefer stayed buried. once he’d figured out that you weren’t exactly in shape to be left wandering around, he made the executive decision to get you home. yeah, he’d just met you a couple hours ago, but somehow, through the boozy haze and questionable life choices, he’d managed to catch your address.
impressive detective work, really… or, well, you may have blurted it out mid-ramble about how “the streetlight outside is the only thing lighting up your lonely hallway.”
a touch dramatic, but, hey, it worked.
so he got you back to your place (no thanks to the cab driver’s judgmental side-eye), got you up the stairs without you faceplanting, and, after propping you up long enough to unlock your door, he even went the extra mile and tucked you under the covers. you, meanwhile, mumbled something about “tequila being the devil,” blissfully oblivious to the poor guy who’d just witnessed more of your personal life than your closest friends. toji took one last look before heading out, chuckling to himself as you drifted off, probably already dreaming of whatever literary nonsense you’d be writing next.
but what really stuck with him? the damn “dancing queen” chorus ringing in his ears from the bar. maybe it was still playing somewhere out there in the night, or maybe you’d just cursed him with it. because as he walked home, hands shoved in his pockets, there it was, looping over and over in his head.
“you can dance… you can jive…”
great, now he’d be humming it for days.
both you and toji were snapped back into the fluorescent-lit reality of the conference room, where gojo was still going on about… royalties? percentages? to be honest, the entire spiel sounded more like corporate white noise to you.
toji, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair, looking as disinterested as humanly possible without actually falling asleep. across the screen, suguru appeared in one of those stiff, all-business modes, nodding along to gojo’s speech. his eyes had that telltale sparkle that only appeared when money was the topic — “stakeholder perks,” as gojo would call it, though it just meant suguru got to rake in extra cash on the side.
“and once the audiobook’s live, the split from the sales will be recalculated quarterly, yadda yadda, yadaaa —” gojo’s voice broke into a sing-song, clearly amusing only himself. “anyway, you guys will see some real sweet checks from this.”
“royalties…” suguru interjected, a bit too smoothly, “remind me what those projected percentages were again, satoru?”
toji suppressed a snort. here they were, with the man himself who could barely be bothered to read a weather report straight, much less your raunchy magnum opus. good luck explaining earnings, gojo.
“oh yeah, royalties!” gojo cleared his throat, launching into a number-laden monologue that seemed to somehow both explain everything and nothing at once. toji barely listened, glancing at the digital clock on the wall. it was only when gojo pivoted, with a suddenly very pointed look, that toji actually tuned back in.
“so, did everyone do their, ah, homework?” gojo grinned as his gaze swept across the room, his eyes landing on you with a bit too much knowing amusement. “read the… material?”
you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, and every other voice actor in the room suddenly found the table, the wall, or their own shoes very interesting.
all except toji, of course, who stretched back with the most obnoxious smirk you’d seen yet.
“homework?” he drawled, deadpan as always. “yeah, got right into it. wouldn’t want to miss a single word of that… fine literature.”
a few of the others exchanged awkward looks, clearly unsure how to respond to the dead-serious way toji said fine literature without a shred of irony. meanwhile, you shrank a little in your seat, not exactly loving the fact that the guy you threw up on was apparently the one voice actor who actually read your work cover-to-cover. not to mention, this was toji fushiguro, the voice actor who’d taken the world by storm with a single, leaked snippet. you'd heard your fans say that he was some kind of god-tier talent — practically a household name. and now?
he was casually staring you down like he'd just read your diary.
“it’s… it’s not that bad,” you muttered defensively, feeling a prickling heat rise up your neck.
toji raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “oh, didn’t say it was bad. just, uh… thorough.”
you felt the blush intensify, but before you could reply, gojo jumped back in, undeterred. “great! since everyone’s read it now, we’ll dive into scene breakdowns tomorrow, with input from our illustrious author here.” he winked at you in that annoyingly playful way of his, as if he’d just orchestrated the whole thing for kicks. “it’s all about bringing your vision to life, yeah?”
“looking forward to it.” toji’s tone was smooth, with just enough emphasis to hint at the mischief lying behind his calm expression. you could swear there was a glimmer of challenge in his eyes, and the fact that he’d actually read the book — a book that you wrote in a creative haze, no less — was beginning to feel less like a weird coincidence and more like some cosmic joke at your expense.
suguru’s voice broke through, “and let’s hope that translates to success, right, gojo? my dividends would certainly appreciate it.”
“oh, don’t you worry, sugu bear.” gojo leaned in with that shark-like grin of his. “with toji voicing this masterpiece, and the author right here to guide us? we’re printing money already.”
with a dramatic flourish, gojo clapped his hands together, instantly breaking the tension. “alright, dismissed! snacks are out front — help yourselves, or not! more for me, after all,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye as he clearly envisioned his sugary hoard.
suguru took this moment as his graceful exit cue, giving a short nod before the screen blinked off. gojo sighed theatrically, clasping his chest. “oh, suguru, leaving so soon? you wound me! who’s going to discuss ‘dividends’ and ‘royalties’ with me now?”
nobody had the heart — or possibly the patience — to answer that question, which suited gojo just fine as he spun on his heel, making his way toward the snack table.
you, meanwhile, considered vanishing altogether, at least until the next segment of the day when you’d actually need to make yourself useful. judging by the energy in the room, none of the other voice actors were in a rush to strike up a conversation with you.
ouch. apparently, being the creator of their next project wasn’t that much of a social asset.
you edged toward the door, already halfway to freedom when, like clockwork, a deep, familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “leaving so soon?”
you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. obnoxious didn’t even cover half of it. “just… thought i’d give you guys a break from me,” you muttered, gripping the strap of your bag tighter, hoping it looked casual instead of like an attempt to bolt.
toji’s laugh was low, almost teasing. “a break? i don’t mind the company. in fact, i think the others are just shy.” his words were smooth, but there was a mischievous lilt to them, like he was very aware of just how uncomfortable you probably were.
“right,” you deadpanned, summoning every ounce of sarcasm you had left. “they’re all just shy.”
he chuckled, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the snack table. gojo was already there, unabashedly sampling a tray of tiny cupcakes. he shot you both a grin that was, in all honesty, more threatening than friendly.
oh god, why is he looking at us like that?
“so!” gojo swiped another cupcake, leaning back against the table as he took in you and toji with an almost too-pleased expression. “getting along, are we? i mean, it’s not every day you get to work so closely with the voice behind your book, right?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if trying to ignite some sort of spark just to make things interesting.
toji, unbothered as ever, shrugged. “she already threw up on me. might as well be friends after that, huh?”
oh my god.
you felt the flush rise to your face instantly, a mix of embarrassment and horror. he did not just bring that up in front of gojo, of all people.
“aww, how cute!” gojo crooned, looking absolutely delighted as he clapped his hands in that overly-enthusiastic, not-at-all sincere way. “bonding over bodily fluids. you guys are practically soulmates!”
“please, kill me now,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at the snack table like it might provide an escape hatch.
toji leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper, and you could practically hear the smirk in his tone. “don’t worry, author. i’ve seen worse.”
“great, that’s… comforting,” you muttered, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you grabbed a snack at random. at this point, you were ready to make a quick exit, potentially before the day’s work even started if it meant escaping this scene.
“now, don’t run off too fast,” gojo added, wagging a finger at you with a sly grin. “i’m expecting all of us back here in an hour, nice and energized. don’t want any excuses!”
toji shot you one last look, equal parts teasing and unreadable, before he turned to grab a coffee. “guess you’re stuck with me for a little longer,” he murmured, a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes.
wonderful. absolutely wonderful. well, at least there’s cupcakes.
it’s only five minutes into the recording session, and you’re already wondering if there’s a job market for earth-burrowing positions. if there is, you’d gladly take it. anything would be better than this…circus.
the sound booth is packed with voice actors delivering line after line of your book’s carefully crafted (painfully cheesy) smutty dialogue. you bite your lip, both cringing and resisting the urge to laugh out loud as one of the actors, a slender guy with an unfortunate tendency to over-dramatize every vowel, reads his line with a tragic sigh.
“i can’t help it… i just want to devour you.”
devour you? you want to throw yourself into the nearest trash can. before you can stop yourself, you lean forward into the mic, managing a half-apologetic, half-pleading tone. “uh, could you maybe… ease up on the ‘devour’ part? like, less dramatic, more… suave?”
he nods seriously, doing a quick vocal warm-up before trying again. “i can’t help it… i just want to devoooour—”
“nope! nope, nope, nope!” you blurt, a little louder than you intended, the cringe spiraling out of control. you quickly clear your throat, trying to sound as professional as possible. “let’s, uh, maybe just skip to the next line.”
from the corner of the room, you catch sight of gojo, who’s grinning so widely you’re genuinely concerned his face might stay that way forever. he’s watching you with an infectious enthusiasm that’s bordering on manic, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement. you’re half-expecting him to yell, “surprise! this is an snl skit!”
you rub at your temple, wishing the earth would do you a solid and open up beneath you, while the next actor — a petite, sweet-looking woman who’s visibly uncomfortable — takes her turn. she clears her throat, looking down at her script, and delivers the line in a barely-there whisper, “i… i want you to take me… take me as if…”
“um…” you grimace, instantly feeling the heat rise to your face. “maybe a bit louder? but, you know, sensual.”
she blushes, muttering something under her breath before raising her voice, though it’s still trembling. “i… i want you to… take me… as if…”
toji, who’s been watching the whole scene from his seat, chuckles lowly, and his smirk sends a jolt of embarrassment through you. “jeez, author, why don’t you just hop in there and show ’em how it’s done?” he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm, though it’s not unkind.
you throw him a flat look, biting back an eye roll. not like i wanted to be here, you think to yourself. it’s just that somehow, the universe decided that today you’d be responsible for turning lines you’d never want to say out loud into something even remotely palatable.
and it only gets worse.
another actor — a deep-voiced, well-meaning guy in his mid-40s — leans into his mic and reads out, in a gruff voice you can only describe as a rejected batman impersonation: “you’re driving me… wild.” his tone is so intense it’s like he’s threatening to fight the listener in a parking lot.
“okay… we might want to dial it back a little,” you say carefully, hoping to mask your horror with politeness. “just… a little less ‘supervillain,’ more… warm?”
you hear toji chuckle behind you, low and rumbling, clearly reveling in your suffering. and as you glance over your shoulder, you find gojo, once again, looking like this is the best entertainment he’s had in years.
at this point, he might actually cry from laughing.
just when you think it can’t get any worse, toji stands, giving you a wink as he heads into the booth for his turn. he takes the mic, his face blank and unreadable as he starts reading the next line.
“i need you… right now,” he purrs, his voice oozing that lazy, sensual charm you’d envisioned for this character. it’s… almost unfair, really.
there’s not an ounce of irony or overacting.
toji’s delivery is so smooth, so confident, that it catches you off guard, a flush rising to your cheeks.
gojo lets out a low whistle, giving you a teasing look as if to say, see? was that so hard?
“finally,” you mutter under your breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. gojo raises a brow, clearly enjoying every second of your awkwardness.
you sigh, mentally bracing yourself for the rest of the recording. if nothing else, at least one actor seems to have nailed the tone — much to your embarrassment and gojo’s endless delight.
you clear your throat, attempting to regain some semblance of control over the recording session, which is proving to be harder than herding a pack of caffeinated cats. “right, everyone, let’s, uh, keep moving and go ahead with recording the dragon king’s lines. toji, if you’re ready?”
but you barely finish your sentence before gojo claps toji on the shoulder with that all-too-annoying bromance energy, grinning from ear to ear. “our star is ready, aren’t ya, toji? i mean, look at this guy! look at him! can’t believe i found this gem for gojo-sonic!” gojo’s voice carries that infuriatingly proud tone that practically drips with smug satisfaction.
you stifle an eye roll, and even the other actors exchange glances, half-annoyed, half-amused at gojo’s over-the-top fawning. but before you can jump in to cut gojo off, toji just smirks, sliding comfortably into the mic like he was born to deliver cheesy lines.
“alright, alright,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. “let’s see what you’ve got, mr. dragon king.”
toji adjusts the headphones, his lazy smirk already primed.
and then he begins, voice low and sultry, hitting each cringe-worthy word with the same ridiculous gravitas that has the whole room mesmerized.
“i have waited eons for a beauty like yours to grace my realm. come… be mine, and together we shall rule the heavens.”
you can practically feel everyone holding their breath, transfixed by the sheer sincerity in his tone, despite the line’s absurdity. you, too, can’t help but feel a blush creeping up your neck, which is just unfair given you wrote these lines.
you knew what they were meant to sound like, but this?
he’s delivering them like they’re damn poetry.
toji doesn’t stop there, though, his deep voice carrying each line as though he’s serenading the mic. “my heart burns with a fire only you can soothe. take my hand, and i swear to guard your heart with my very life.”
gojo is practically fawning, batting his eyelashes like a proud parent in the corner. “see, people, this is how it’s done! let the dragon king here show you amateurs how it’s really supposed to sound!”
you resist the urge to chuck something at gojo as the other actors’ eyes widen, watching in awe.
one of them mutters under their breath, “no way we’re topping that.”
and then, toji’s voice dips even lower, the next line coming out in a growl that somehow manages to be both dramatic and, disturbingly, kind of… enchanting.
“you are the breath in my lungs, the flame in my veins. without you, i am but a shadow… a beast in the dark.”
the room is dead silent.
you’re all fawning, gushing messes, and you’re not even sure how it happened. it’s like toji’s somehow turned this trial recording into an absurdly hot moment. you can barely believe you’re hearing the same lines you once labeled “ridiculously cringey” in the draft.
finally, he leans back, looking pleased with himself, as if he hadn’t just left everyone a little breathless. gojo practically beams with pride, nudging you.
“so… i think you’ve found your dragon king, wouldn’t you say?”
you nod, still stunned, half in disbelief, half in begrudging admiration. if this was just the trial recording, you could only imagine how many blushing, starry-eyed listeners this final audiobook was going to leave in its wake.
the moment the trial recording session wraps up, gojo is the first one on his feet, clapping his hands like he's just watched the performance of a lifetime. “brilliant!” he practically shouts, pulling out his phone faster than you can blink. “suguru needs to hear this,” he mutters, already dialing his business partner like a kid who can’t wait to brag about his latest toy.
sometimes you really do forget that gojo is the ceo of a multi-million dollar company — an erotic audiobook company, no less.
is he this passionate about the art, or is it just the money? either way, watching him fanboy over his own employee leaves you a mix of amused and exhausted.
there’s a charm to it, though, even if it’s a little baffling to witness in real time.
as the energy in the studio starts to mellow, you find yourself actually breathing a bit easier. for once, things seem to be going smoothly.
maybe this whole collaboration wouldn’t be a disaster after all.
you let yourself relax, even if a small part of your brain chides you with a quick reminder: next time, skip the cheap caffeine fix when you’re pulling an all-nighter writing smut.
or… cheap anything, really.
yeah, you don’t actually smoke, you remind yourself — except, well, that one time in college, but hey, that was a whole different you. one that should stay buried in the relics of questionable decisions, right next to your spiral-bound notes of embarrassingly bad poetry.
just as you’re praying to the universe that this is all going to wrap up without any extra drama, you hear it. the sound that’s become both your nightmare and… okay, maybe, a little less than that.
“well, princess,” toji’s voice rumbles, his tone as amused as it is teasing, “got anything else you want from your dragon king?”
you close your eyes and will the ground to open up beneath you, but nope, nothing.
nothing but the sound of your heartbeat doing an awkward little tango in your chest.
of course he’d pick now to resurrect that ridiculous moniker from last night. like it wasn’t humiliating enough when he threw it out there while you were a couple drinks deep and all but glued to your seat at the bar.
oh, you’re practically begging the universe to put you out of your misery — well, actually, now that you think about it, maybe being wrapped up in those beefy arms wouldn’t be the worst fate…
wow. get a grip, girl. this is the caffeine deprivation talking.
definitely that.
but then toji smirks at you, an eyebrow raised, as if he’s just dared you to respond. and all you can think is… oh, lord, this man is trouble.
"c’mon, just a drink,” toji insists, flashing that devil-may-care grin that both ruins and improves your day within a matter of seconds. he’s leaning back like he’s got all the time in the world, casually ignoring how you definitely don’t.
“trust me, princess, it’ll settle your nerves.”
it’s not like you need a reminder of the mess that was last night. every foggy memory swirls in your head, like life’s own cruel version of a mocktail — one garnished with shame, regret, and a generous helping of last night’s tequila.
if anything, adding more drinks to this equation feels about as smart as walking blindfolded into traffic.
but toji’s already up, stretching like he’s completely unaware of the chaotic memories this whole “outing” is summoning. “just a quick look around gojo-sonic, yeah?” he says, nodding toward the maze of hallways beyond the studio door, his face the perfect picture of innocence.
“you’re new here, and it’s… important to know the lay of the land. work reasons.”
you can practically hear the quotation marks around that “work reasons.”
“you know,” he adds with a wink, “never hurts to see where the magic happens.”
yeah, right. you have a feeling the only magic here is him somehow dragging you deeper into your personal nightmare.
you don’t even get the chance to respond with a yes, no, or a “maybe next century” when toji’s phone lights up and his whole expression darkens. not exactly the look you expect from the guy whose voice practically ruined half the internet last month with that infamous line about... well, yeah, better not go there right now.
“satoru, the brat got into a fight,” he growls into the phone, and suddenly, satoru’s jaw hits the floor with such force you can practically hear it from across the studio. toji doesn’t stick around for a reply, though — he’s already striding toward the door like a man with a purpose, ignoring satoru’s spluttered, “the what did who?”
and somehow — god knows how — you find yourself tagging along like it’s the most natural thing in the world. maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s the thrill of seeing toji in full boss mode, or maybe it’s just because, oh, y’know, “responsible adult and responsibilities” instincts or whatever.
but the further you walk, the more you realize that toji doesn’t mind you following one bit. in fact, he’s practically matching his pace to yours, as if you’re part of some unofficial escort mission to... whoever this “brat” is.
which, speaking of, who the hell is megumi?
you’re still trying to wrap your head around how this was supposed to be a “quick tour” of the office and not, somehow, an impromptu escort mission to the world’s sleekest car, a porsche 911 turbo — yep, that’s right, the kind of car you’ve only ever seen in movies where the bad guy’s got a mysterious, sexy side. all you can manage is, “you own this?”
toji shrugs, slipping his keys into the ignition with an air of pure, unbothered cool. “you don’t?”
oh. okay.
you barely have time to process this response before he’s peeling out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a stray cat, a snail-paced truck, and an old lady who’s almost sacrificed her wig to his driving style. but hey, all part of the thrill, right?
definitely not questioning life choices here.
by the time you pull up to a cutesy primary school — you know, the kind with pastel-colored gates and cartoon murals of bears and rabbits — you’re genuinely confused.
toji seems like the last guy who’d be here unless it was some undercover op. and “megumi,” whoever he is, sounds like he could be the school’s playground menace.
“wait, this is where we’re headed?” you ask, eyeing the building like it might suddenly make sense.
but toji’s out of the car, moving so fast you practically have to jog to keep up. the school secretary gives you both a wary glance, likely sensing the storm of exasperation radiating off toji, as he strides straight into the principal’s office. there, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed and an unimpressed scowl that screams “mini-toji,” is a little boy with spiky hair and an air of quiet defiance.
without missing a beat, toji asks, “megs! did you win?”
the principal, a kindly-looking woman whose expression is rapidly shifting from “calm mediator” to “i don’t get paid enough for this,” clears her throat.
“mr. fushiguro, your son wasn’t... in the wrong, per se. it appears he was, um, defending his honor.”
defending his honor? you blink. what kind of second grader even knows what that means?
“that true, ‘gumi?” toji says, arms crossed, looking every bit the unbothered, proud dad of the year.
“he said my dad was a... weird voice actor,” megumi mutters, then shrugs. “so i said at least my dad works.”
you nearly choke, partly from stifled laughter, partly from the sheer absurdity of all this. here you were, thinking “honor” meant, like, taking down a playground empire or something.
but no, megumi’s just a kid with a sharp tongue and a little too much of toji’s attitude.
“damn right, kid,” toji says, patting megumi’s head, then looking over at you with that familiar, annoyingly smug grin. “raised him right, yeah?”
“...sure,” you say, because what else can you even say at this point? it’s like you’ve stumbled into the weirdest sitcom ever, and the laugh track is somehow missing.
the principal’s expression morphs into something almost painfully polite as she addresses you, tiptoeing around the word wife with an impressive mix of caution and curiosity.
“are you, ah... megumi’s guardian?”
and then, in perfect, unplanned harmony, you, toji, and megumi all blurt out, “no.”
the unity, the instinctual synchronization — it’s like you’re all on the same wavelength, for better or worse. soul-level understanding, or something.
what the hell is happening right now?
with a polite smile and a “let’s never speak of this again” nod, you three finally leave the principal’s office. megumi, looking more bored than reprimanded, flicks at a speck of lint on his uniform, while you and toji attempt to navigate the hallway swarming with concerned teachers and worried front-desk ladies. and by “concerned” and “worried,” it’s more like they’re curious about toji’s parenting style and, let’s be honest, probably toji himself.
“oh, mr. fushiguro!” one particularly invested teacher coos, “we heard about the incident. is everything all right?”
toji, of course, laps up the attention, chuckling low and throwing in a wink here and there like he’s starring in some kind of action-movie dad role. the ladies are practically falling over themselves to get a response from him, their questions barely veiled as they assess you with raised brows and sideways glances, a classic “who’s she?” written all over their faces.
“and you are...?” one of the front-desk ladies finally asks, voice all sugar-coated and sharp.
toji slides in smoothly, cutting off whatever half-formed, awkward introduction you were about to stammer out. “oh, she’s a colleague,” he says, his tone effortlessly suave, like introducing a perfectly respectable coworker and totally not the author of his last, extremely explicit audiobook project.
you’re almost grateful until it hits you — this is the same guy who made a whole production of calling you “princess” in the recording booth just yesterday.
as if he hasn’t played one of your absurdly corny dragon kings in all his full-throttle intensity.
and now he’s here, all casual and cool, giving you a proper, respectable title like he hasn’t spent hours voicing content these people probably keep hidden under their pillows at night.
but at least he didn’t out you as the actual author of those… creative pieces.
that’s something.
toji is out here, doing his social service to society. and no, it’s not about lending his voice to steamy audiobooks, thank you very much.
today, he’s serving the community by providing these teachers with a generous five minutes of his attention, which they’ll probably be replaying in their heads until the next parent-teacher meeting. and — oh, what a surprise! — that’s exactly what they’re talking about now, circling back to how he must come to the next one for a “serious discussion” about megumi.
toji’s stance? why bother? if the kid’s acing his tests, staying out of trouble (mostly), and keeping a lid on the whole “honor” thing, why does he need to sit through hours of polite lecturing from the pta?
while he’s busy justifying his lack of parental enthusiasm, you feel a pair of eyes on you. glancing down, you meet megumi’s steady, curious stare.
it’s oddly intense for a kid his age, but you’re not one to back down from a challenge. you narrow your eyes, feigning a critical, assessing look, and he visibly falters, going slightly pink around the ears.
ah, kids.
as you three make your way out of the building — toji still being all socialite with the staff and probably postponing that pta date indefinitely — you suddenly find yourself in a mini interview with megumi. it’s as if this eight-year-old has appointed himself the gatekeeper of his dad’s life and has decided you’re the latest applicant.
“so… what’s your favorite color?” he asks, with an unblinking, serious stare.
“uh…” you pause, realizing the weight of your answer here. “blue. like, uh, light blue.”
he nods, considering. “good answer.”
a pause. “favorite superhero?”
“batman?” you try, glancing at him for a sign of approval.
“hmm. fine. but iron man would’ve been better.”
noted, you think, as he then moves to cereal brand, favorite animal, and even your preferred subject in school. you navigate each question as best as you can, almost feeling the burn of a final exam.
then, in a moment of quiet, just as you think the quiz is over, megumi looks down and asks, voice barely a whisper, “did i… do the right thing? defending my… my hone-er?”
“your… oh, honor?” you say, a smile twitching at the corner of your mouth as you catch his wide-eyed, earnest gaze.
he nods, cheeks tinting a bit as he scuffs his sneaker on the ground.
“megumi,” you say, kneeling a little to get on his level, “defending your honor is important. just… maybe don’t go for all the punches next time? sometimes words work too.” you give him a playful nudge.
he nods, seeming satisfied with that answer, then glances over his shoulder. “and don’t tell daddy i asked.”
“your secret’s safe with me,” you whisper back, giving him a conspiratorial wink.
toji’s arms were crossed, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched the little interaction between you and megumi.
he was always careful about the people around his kid, fiercely protective to the point that very few in his line of work even knew megumi existed. the only ones who had ever met him were gojo and geto — and that was already a stretch.
but something about how you handled the kid’s questions, actually entertained them with the same patience he’d usually summon up himself, caught him off guard. the way you knelt down to answer him, even kept a straight face through the hard-hitting topics of favorite superheroes and cereal brands... it was surprisingly nice.
almost… reassuring?
ugh, what was he even thinking? you were still the same girl who’d written, and he mentally cringed as he remembered the line,
“dragons may have claws, but they’re nothing compared to the grip i have on your…”
yeah, yeah, he really didn’t need to finish that thought. the memory alone had him chuckling under his breath, shaking his head.
of course, that earned him a suspicious glance from both you and megumi.
“what’s so funny?” you asked, brow raised.
“yeah, daddy, why’re you laughing?” megumi chimed in, clearly puzzled.
toji waved a hand dismissively, realizing he’d just blown his cool for no reason.
“nothin’, don’t worry about it. just thinkin’,” he mumbled, aware he’d probably looked a little unhinged just then.
maybe he really needed to work on his awareness — or maybe he just needed to get a grip, period.
toji’s mind was doing somersaults, genuinely debating if he could manage both you and megumi tagging along for the afternoon. megumi’s insistence didn’t help; kid was determined that toji should keep you both company for the rest of the day, despite having school hours left.
“you’ve got work, right?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious. “aren’t you supposed to be off doing big, important actor things?”
toji only smirked, whipping out his phone with the sort of confidence that made it clear he had a workaround for everything. he tapped open a message to gojo, fingers moving fast.
you [11:31 am]: hey. kid’s dragging me to the arcade. need a few hours off. gojo s. [11:33 am]: need or WANT, toji? ;)) you [11:31 am]: like i said, KID is dragging me. gojo s. [11:33 am]: oh sure, blame megumi. what, does he have you wrapped around his little finger or something? you [11:31 am]: think whatever you want, but you’re handling my schedule for the rest of the day. gojo s. [11:33 am]: wait, are you with...the AUTHOR? ;)) you [11:31 am]: quit smiling through text, it’s creepy. gojo s. [11:33 am]: i’ll allow it. but only cause i’m such a good friend. gojo s. [11:33 am]: tell megumi uncle gojo says hi gojo s. [11:34 am]: and he owes me 20 bucks. you [11:35 am]: he doesn’t owe you anything. gojo s. [11:35 am]: fine, but bring me something from the prize counter.
satisfied, toji pocketed his phone and shrugged.
“all right, kid. we’ll hang out for a bit. but i swear if you drag me into any embarrassing games —”
“arcade!” megumi interrupted, not even giving him a chance to finish. “i can show you both that i’m the best at every game! daddy taught me how to play, so you better watch out!”
you couldn’t help but chuckle at the kid’s enthusiasm.
“all right, let’s go. but you better not make me look bad, kid,” toji said, smirking down at his son, who was now practically vibrating with eagerness.
“arcade!” megumi yelled again, nearly bouncing as he grabbed your hand and began to lead the way.
megumi barely lets you settle into the leather of the passenger seat before he’s bouncing in the back, practically vibrating with energy as he plugs toji’s phone into the aux. you’re trying to wrap your head around being in toji fushiguro’s car, the man who not only voices the romantic lead in your steamiest, most dramatic book but also owns a luxury car that could probably pay off your loans twice over.
"so, uh... passenger princess, huh?" toji smirks, catching you in mid-thought.
"i… what?" you stammer, feeling the heat creep up as he settles a hand on the wheel with all the nonchalance in the world. “i, uh —” but you’re cut off by megumi excitedly blasting his choice of artist: korn.
"your son listens to korn?" you blurt out, giving toji a mix of awe and disbelief.
toji just raises an eyebrow, deadpanning, “yours doesn’t?”
ouch. okay, fair point.
because no, you do not have a kid, or a husband, or even a boyfriend…or any romantic prospects, really.
toji’s question leaves you fidgeting as you try to muster a dignified response.
meanwhile, megumi is full-on screaming to the lyrics of "freak on a leash," and you catch snippets like “something takes a part of me!” which, yeah, relatable — korn is honestly hitting the mood. but of course, toji catches you staring out the window, attempting to look casual as he throws you a side-eye.
"so, what’s got you without a boyfriend?” he asks, way too casually, as if this was a natural segue from whatever korn-fueled karaoke session is happening in the backseat.
you practically choke on air. "what, me? no, i’m...," you laugh awkwardly, shifting in the passenger seat. “besides, i don’t meet many guys. i'm just… you know… doing my thing.”
megumi, pausing his headbanging just for a moment, turns and looks at you with an exaggerated ‘yikes’ face, as if being single was the worst possible fate in his young, eight-year-old eyes.
but then he shrugs, clearly uninterested in this adult drama and goes back to screaming, “feeling like a freak on a leash!”
toji, still watching you, smirks, “so, doing your ‘thing’ includes no boyfriend, no husband... what, are you just swearing off men?”
"uh, no!” you say quickly, too quickly, and feel your face heat up. “just haven’t... y’know, met anyone worth dating. been busy.”
toji gives a low chuckle, clearly entertained. “busy doing what, writing your ‘torrid love stories’?”
you make a face, biting your lip.
“they’re not that torrid.” but even as you say it, you hear the echo of a particularly cheesy line you’d written for his character in your novel, which, mortifyingly enough, involved the phrase “my darling flame, you set my very soul alight.”
toji chuckles, as if reading your thoughts. “maybe i’ll get to hear one of those lines in real life someday, princess.”
“can we not call me that while megumi’s in the car?” you mutter, glancing back, only to find megumi fully engrossed in his self-proclaimed vocal talents.
“noted.” toji snickers, shooting you another mischievous look as korn plays on, megumi happily singing about “breaking down” in the back.
“but hey,” toji says smoothly, hand resting on the gearshift, “just so you know, even my son knows a good band when he hears one.”
you roll your eyes at him, managing to mumble, “at least one of you is a bit mature.”
the porsche pulls up to the arcade with enough fanfare that heads start turning even before the engine purrs to a stop. not that the onlookers were ready for what steps out next: a towering, chiseled man looking like he’s on his way to a modeling photoshoot, a cute kid in full confidence mode, and, well… you.
still feeling a little dizzy from the korn concert that just took place, you barely register megumi bolting out of the car with a grin, leaving you and toji to get your bearings. his energy’s practically crackling by the time toji pays for the play card, and you’re pretty sure if he has to wait even one more minute, he’s about to combust.
“okay, okay, slow down, megumi,” you say, trying to keep up as he yanks you to the nearest neon-lit game.
but the kid isn’t hearing it. he’s already dragging you to one machine, and then the next, moving faster than you can process where you even are. each one is seemingly more intense and blinding than the last, and you’re hit with a sensory overload of neon lights, retro game sounds, and the feel of the arcade carpet sticking just a little too much to your shoes.
toji’s watching the whole ordeal with a bemused smirk. you and his kid are like a whirlwind of neon and laughter, barely stopping to catch your breaths between games. the sight is somehow… comforting. like a scene from a life he hadn’t planned but couldn’t help finding strangely compelling.
but then he catches himself. seriously?
he shakes his head. this is not the time to get all sentimental over his kid’s new ‘playdate’ or whatever.
he’s just here because megumi insisted, and maybe he thought it’d be amusing to watch you get dragged around by an eight-year-old with zero restraint. that’s it.
nothing more.
yeah, right. his internal grumbling comes to an abrupt stop as he watches megumi take your hand and pull you over to a classic claw machine. the kid’s looking up at you with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen, all excitement and pure innocence, like winning one of those knockoff plush toys is the pinnacle of existence.
“you got this?” you ask, grinning at him as he lines up the claw with intense concentration.
“of course! my dad showed me,” he declares, like he’s about to go pro in the claw game league.
toji, watching from a distance, feels a twinge in his chest.
yeah, he’d shown megumi how to play this game ages ago, more to give him an edge over the other kids than anything else. it was a dad-and-son thing, just the two of them. but seeing megumi look up at you with the same pride and excitement makes him feel… something.
and he doesn’t know if he likes it.
you’re so focused on megumi’s moves that you don’t notice toji’s slight frown, nor do you hear his quiet mutter of, “this is ridiculous.”
but when he sees the way your eyes light up as megumi successfully nabs a cheap stuffed animal — a lopsided dinosaur, of all things — and the way you celebrate like he’s won an olympic medal, he feels himself relax, just a little.
he chuckles, shaking his head and crossing his arms as you high-five megumi, both of you beaming over a prize that probably cost less than the game itself. but toji doesn’t move.
he stands there, rooted, as you two bounce from game to game, his thoughts too jumbled to focus on anything else.
but maybe… maybe that’s okay for now.
toji’s phone buzzes just as he’s leaning against the side of a vintage racing game, watching you and megumi practically lighting up the whole arcade with your laughter. he glances down to see satoru’s name pop up on the screen, already feeling a headache brewing.
gojo s. [12:20 pm]: so, arcade? 😏 you [12:20 pm]: yeah, i just told you. gojo s. [12:20 pm]: nah, i mean WHY the arcade? what are we celebrating here, toji? ;)) you [12:21 pm]: why does it matter gojo s. [12:21 pm]: CUZZZZ gojo s. [12:21 pm]: lemme guess, megumi's there with her now, right? gojo s. [12:22 pm]: bet they’re having the time of their lives, while YOU gojo s. [12:22 pm]: you’re just there all moody on the sidelines😔
toji glances up at you and megumi, who’ve now moved on to a skee-ball machine, both cheering as you score a perfect 50-point throw.
you [12:23 pm]: like i said, work stuff. gojo s. [12:24 pm]: HAHA. work stuff, right. gojo s. [12:24 pm]: work stuff that has megumi running around grinning like that. gojo s. [12:25 pm]: bro gojo s. [12:25 pm]: you’re terrible at lying. gojo s. [12:26 pm]: she’s a keeper if she can deal with YOU you [12:26 pm]: keep dreaming.
he slips his phone back into his pocket, unable to shake off the grin creeping onto his face as he watches you high-five megumi. the kid’s happier than he’s seen in ages, and he…
well, he can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed watching anyone just being with his kid.
toji stands back, taking in the moment — megumi’s laughter echoing through the arcade, your smile as you lift him up with an ease that has the kid giggling uncontrollably — and for some reason, his mind has turned the whole scene into a rom-com montage.
you are the dancing queen…
it’s absurd, really.
he doesn’t even like abba. but there it is, the stupid song playing in his head, all set to the image of you holding his son, twirling him like he weighs nothing, both of you in fits of laughter.
young and sweet, only seventeen…
and for a split second, his heart does this awkward little stutter.
he chalks it up to the neon lights.
or maybe the greasy smell of the arcade food messing with his senses. but as he watches you hold megumi up, almost as if he’s flying, he can’t ignore that ridiculous, cheesy pull in his chest.
feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah...
oh god.
is he seriously catching himself grinning at the way you’re both trying to get him to join in? megumi’s little hand reaches out, beckoning him over, and you’re giving him that smile, that “come on, get over here, big guy” look.
you can dance, you can jive…
the song hits that soaring note in his head just as he finally gives in and starts to walk over, and his pulse actually picks up, as if he’s not just at some run-down arcade but in the middle of some ridiculously sappy rom-com finale.
having the time of your life…
and then megumi is shrieking again, calling, “dad, hurry up!” like it’s life or death, and you’re beaming at him with that mischievous, encouraging look.
toji sighs, shaking his head at himself.
just great.
the two of you have officially dragged him into your world, soundtrack and all.
toji's trying his best to lock in.
but as he walks out of the arcade — juggling not one, but four oversized plushies, two fancy new lego sets, a slinky, a bouncy ball, some glow-in-the-dark slime, and a rainbow slap bracelet — he can’t help but snort at the sheer ridiculousness of it.
between his loaded arms and megumi curled up fast asleep in yours, it’s a scene straight out of one of those cheesy family movies.
he shakes his head, trying to push down that weirdly warm feeling creeping up on him.
stay focused, toji.
he doesn't need any sappy feelings right now. he's a single dad with a kid and a job, not some washed-up rom-com character, damn it.
but watching you gently adjust megumi as he drools onto your shoulder, snuggling deeper into the crook of your arm as you carefully slide into the backseat, it’s hard not to feel that tug again.
ugh, he thinks, climbing into the driver’s seat as you buckle up up front, giving him a soft, tired smile.
“never held a kid before, huh?” he teases, eyes glancing from the road to the rearview mirror, where megumi’s still dozing, soft breaths muffling against your arm.
“nope,” you shrug, but there’s a softness to your voice as you gently rub megumi’s back, “first time for everything, i guess.”
toji’s heart does that weird skip thing again.
oh god, he thinks, gripping the wheel a little tighter as he tries to ignore the sappy old man vibe overtaking him.
the air in the car feels... charged, but it’s not like either of you are exactly leaning into the tension. instead, you both sit in this weird, awkward silence, save for the quiet hum of the radio, like you’re suddenly too aware of just being there with each other.
and then, as if the universe wanted to toy with you, iris by the goo goo dolls starts playing.
oh, god. you immediately wish you could just evaporate into the passenger seat.
“...and i’d give up forever to touch you…” the lyrics croon, filling the silence, and you can practically feel the heat crawling up your cheeks.
toji clears his throat, obviously catching it too. “radio’s on a roll, huh?”
“yep,” you say, managing a weak laugh. “i mean, this is classic… everyone listens to goo goo dolls in, uh, total silence in the car with their coworker, right?”
he glances at you, a rare, subtle smile ghosting on his lips. “totally normal.”
“and i don’t want the world to see me… ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”
you glance out the window, eyes focused anywhere but on him, biting back a laugh at how the song somehow keeps getting more dramatic. like, who’s writing this scene, seriously?
“just tell me where to turn,” toji says, breaking through your internal monologue, and you do, mentioning a landmark close to home, hoping he’ll take the hint.
but toji only raises an eyebrow. “near it? nah. i’m dropping you at the door.”
“oh, no, that’s really fine —” you start, but he’s already shaking his head.
“don’t worry about it,” he insists, a smirk in his voice. “besides, i remember where you live. from, you know… last time.”
wait. last time? as in… when you were embarrassingly, unapologetically wasted that night?
you want to crawl under the seat as the lyrics continue, “when everything’s made to be broken…”
so when toji pulls up in front of your apartment, there’s this odd feeling hanging in the air. you catch yourself wanting to... linger, just a little longer, even if you’re home.
and lowkey?
so does toji.
it’s like the two of you have hit this weird teenage crush level of awkward — just leaning, leaning, like there’s some invisible string pulling you closer.
he’s looking at you, and you’re looking at him, and you’re both just… stuck there. you can’t even bring yourself to reach for the door handle, and it’s the same for him.
but right as the moment peaks, a tiny, innocent voice cuts through from the backseat. “are you two going to kiss?”
megumi’s question hangs there, blunt and childlike, breaking whatever spell had you both frozen. you both jolt back, blinking as if you just woke up.
“what? no!” you blurt, practically tripping over your own denial.
your face feels like it’s about to catch fire.
toji coughs, rubbing the back of his neck, just barely suppressing a chuckle.
“kid’s got a helluva imagination,” he mutters, eyes anywhere but on you.
as you finally reach for the door handle, ready to slip out and say your goodbyes, you hear a little sniffle from the backseat.
“wait…” megumi’s voice is tiny, almost shaky. you turn around, and to your surprise, his face is scrunched up, his eyes glistening with tears that he’s trying so hard to hold back.
“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, twisting around in your seat to face him. “i’ll see you again, kiddo.”
but his lower lip wobbles, and suddenly he bursts into full-on tears, clutching the giant plushie he won at the arcade. “b-but i don’t want you to leave!” he sobs, voice cracking. “can’t you stay just a little longer?”
toji’s eyes widen; he looks genuinely shocked.
“megumi, you’re fine, she’s not going anywhere forever. what’s gotten into you?” he tries to keep his tone steady, but there’s an undercurrent of surprise.
megumi doesn’t cry.
ever.
this is new territory.
megumi just shakes his head, burying his face into the plushie. “but she’s nice,” he mumbles, muffled but insistent. “and she plays games with me and —” he peeks out from the plushie with red, teary eyes. “and she talks to me like you do.”
you feel something stir in your chest at his words, this overwhelming urge to hug him even though you’d sworn up and down just an hour ago you didn’t know how to handle kids.
“aw, megumi,” you say softly, reaching over and giving his little hand a squeeze. “i’ll still see you, i promise. maybe we can even play again sometime, okay?”
“but you’re leaving now,” he says, his voice quivering, clutching your hand with a desperation that tugs at your heart.
“and daddy didn’t even kiss you.”
the absolute silence that follows is deafening.
you feel your face go redder than it’s ever been, and a glance at toji shows he’s equally flustered, mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find some way to steer this conversation back to normal.
“whoa, hey now,” toji says, forcing a laugh as he clears his throat. “that’s, uh — that’s not how it works, kid.” he ruffles megumi’s hair a little too hard, clearly floundering. “and hey, don’t go crying over someone just leaving for the night, you’re stronger than that.”
“i don’t care,” megumi sniffles, clutching your hand tighter. “i like her. and she makes you smile.”
toji freezes, the color draining from his face for just a split second.
makes him smile.
he doesn’t even realize he’s been smiling, maybe more in one day than he has in months. he glances at you, brow furrowed like he’s trying to make sense of it himself.
“well…” toji’s voice is softer now, almost cautious, like he’s testing out words he hasn’t said in a long time. “
maybe… maybe she could come around again. if she wants to, that is.”
“i do.” you answer without thinking, your gaze drifting to megumi’s tear-streaked face, which immediately lights up.
“really?” megumi’s eyes shine, practically bouncing in his seat. “you promise?”
“i promise,” you say with a smile, giving him a reassuring nod. “as long as it’s okay with you and your dad, of course.”
“’s fine,” toji grumbles, running a hand over his face to hide his slight grin. “besides, someone’s gotta teach you a lesson or two at the arcade next time.”
“is that a challenge, toji?” you quip, smirking. “because if i remember right, megumi here got more tickets than both of us combined.”
“that’s because i taught him everything he knows,” toji scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he’s even entertaining this.
megumi sniffles one last time, his eyes practically glowing with happiness. “then… you’ll come over soon, right?”
“absolutely,” you say, warmth bubbling up in your chest as you meet his hopeful gaze. “but only if you promise to keep practicing at the arcade. gotta keep that winning streak going, right?”
megumi grins, finally letting go of your hand as he settles back with a contented sigh. “deal.”
toji just shakes his head, muttering something about the “drama” gene clearly skipping a generation, though the smile tugging at his lips says otherwise.
as you unbuckle your seatbelt, ready to say goodbye, you feel the car click with the unmistakable sound of the child lock. you glance back at megumi, who’s nodding off against his plushie pile, and back at toji, who’s already climbing out to walk you up to your door.
gentlemanly of him, sure.
though, the way his eyes linger on you… there’s more to it than that.
“i could’ve walked myself, you know,” you say, falling into step beside him as you head up to your building. “it’s not that far.”
“maybe i just felt like making sure you didn’t trip and embarrass yourself,” he shoots back, smirking as he nudges your shoulder.
“very chivalrous, fushiguro,” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning anyway. “honestly, you’re like a walking textbook definition of ‘gentleman.’”
“yeah, well,” he clears his throat, looking just a bit smug. “maybe i was raised right. or maybe,” his voice drops a little lower, “i just wanted an excuse to stick around a little longer.”
you blink, caught off guard by the soft rasp in his voice, the way his eyes are just a bit darker under the porch light.
“oh,” is all you manage, though your heartbeat’s doing a little somersault. “well… uh. here’s my door.”
“guess it is,” he murmurs, eyes glinting as he takes a step closer, leaning against the doorframe like he’s meant to be there, like he’s settled in the idea of being right here, with you.
“y’know… not a bad place to end the night.”
“yeah,” you say, feeling the words catch in your throat as you gaze up at him, taking in every detail, every shadow. “definitely not bad.”
the two of you are just standing there, a little too close, the space between you narrowing with every unspoken word. he glances down at your lips, and your pulse spikes — he’s thinking it too, right? but just as the moment seems to reach its tipping point, toji smirks, a flash of mischief in his eyes.
“you know,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “still can’t believe you’re the same girl who wrote that… what was it again?” he chuckles, clearly remembering. “oh, right — ‘her legs wrapped around him like a vice, his name spilling from her lips like honey’.”
your face goes nuclear.
that line.
of all the lines, that one?
“you… you remember that?” you manage, mortified.
“’course i remember,” he says, that smug smirk firmly in place. “you think i just skimmed through your stuff?”
“well — i — ” your words are a mess, barely coherent. “i mean, i just thought —”
“nah, i’ve been reading it all.” his voice is low, almost a whisper as he leans just a little closer, his fingers lightly brushing your arm. “you’ve got quite the imagination.”
“s-shut up,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “i was just… doing my job.”
“i know,” he says, voice soft but unyielding. “you’ve got talent.”
there’s a beat, silence stretching between you, the weight of his words settling over the both of you.
“...and you’ve got this whole heartthrob thing going for you,” you blurt out, finally meeting his eyes with a nervous laugh. “kind of makes it hard to believe you’re my colleague.”
“heartthrob, huh?” he smirks, voice dipping lower as his fingers drift to your chin, tilting your face up.
“so that’s what you think of me?”
“i — i mean…” you stammer, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. “maybe a little. just… a tiny bit.”
“tiny?” he murmurs, his lips barely an inch away. “could’ve sworn you looked a little more than just ‘tiny’ interested.”
“oh yeah?” your voice is a whisper now, almost breathless as you feel his breath on your skin, his gaze never wavering. “what if i was?”
“then i’d probably do this,” he mutters, his hand sliding up to cradle your face, and before you know it, his lips are on yours, soft and warm and impossibly gentle.
your breath catches, and instinctively, you lean into him, letting his kiss deepen, his hand tracing slow, lazy patterns against your cheek. it’s everything you’d imagined and somehow even better, his presence grounding and electric all at once.
when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes soft but searching. “so… do i still get to be a heartthrob?”
“only if i still get to be the girl with the cringe smut,” you murmur back, grinning like an idiot.
“deal,” he says, chuckling as he pulls you in for another kiss, his lips brushing yours like a promise.
ah, shit.
as toji slips back into the car, he barely manages to close the door before megumi’s voice hits him like a lightning bolt.
“daddy kissed the pretty lady!” megumi shrieks, pointing an accusatory finger from the backseat. “i saw it! you have that weird face on!”
toji’s eyebrows shoot up. “weird face? what weird face?” he tries to play it cool, adjusting the rearview mirror, but the ghost of that kiss is still painted on his lips, his pulse betraying him with every beat.
“that smile,” megumi says, wrinkling his nose in a perfect mirror of his dad’s usual expression of disdain. “you look like a… like a…” he pauses, searching for the right words. “...like a love puppy!”
toji chokes, stifling a laugh. “a love puppy? where the hell did you get that from?”
“it’s a thing, daddy,” megumi huffs, crossing his arms. “you have that goofy look, and your face is all soft. you only look like that when you’re being weird.”
“me? weird?” toji glances in the mirror, catching megumi’s glare. “kid, i think you’ve got this all wrong.”
“no, i don’t!” megumi insists, practically bouncing in his seat. “you were all ‘goo-goo eyes’ and ‘smoochy-smoochy’ and ‘mwah mwah mwah!’” he makes exaggerated kissing sounds, complete with squished-up lips and hand gestures, utterly scandalized by his dad’s sudden transformation.
“alright, alright, enough with the ‘mwah mwah.’” toji tries to suppress a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “you’ve been watching too many cartoons.”
megumi shakes his head, his expression serious. “nope. i knew it. i knew you liked her.” he narrows his eyes, as if seeing through toji’s very soul. “so… are you gonna marry her?”
toji’s eyes go wide.
“whoa, whoa, hold on. nobody said anything about marriage.”
“but if you kiss someone, that means you wanna be with them forever, right?” megumi asks earnestly, looking way too wise for his age.
toji stares ahead, caught off-guard by the kid’s earnestness.
that kiss… he didn’t plan it. he didn’t even know he was going to do it until he’d leaned in, felt the spark pull him closer. but now?
yeah, the idea of just walking away feels… wrong. he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his mind racing.
“kid, sometimes people just… feel things, okay?” he says, his voice softer, more introspective. “even if they don’t really know why.”
megumi tilts his head, watching his dad closely. “so you do like her, then?”
toji snorts, pulling the car out onto the road. “alright, detective, settle down back there. no more snooping.”
they drive in a comfortable silence for a moment, but the radio has other plans.
as if on cue, the familiar, aching chords of iris by the goo goo dolls come through the speakers, and toji swears he could feel the universe laughing at him.
“and i don’t want the world to see me, ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”
toji clenches his jaw, feeling the lyrics press into him, each line stirring something restless and warm in his chest. he’s always been a guy with his walls up, always knew the stakes were too high to let anyone in.
but tonight… tonight, he let his guard down. just for a second.
he kissed you, tasted the softness of your lips, and the spark left him reeling.
“when everything’s meant to be broken, i just want you to know who i am…”
“daddy?” megumi’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “do you think… maybe you could see her again? so she could come play with us?”
toji blinks, glancing at megumi in the rearview mirror. “you really like her, huh?”
megumi nods vigorously. “yeah! she’s… nice. and fun.” his face softens. “and… she made you look happy.”
toji’s heart gives a strange, unfamiliar twist at that.
happy, huh?
he’s been around the block long enough to know that happiness isn’t exactly his best friend. but sitting here, listening to megumi, feeling that residual warmth from your kiss… it makes him wonder.
wonder what life could look like with you in it.
but he pushes the thought away, focusing on the road. doesn’t change the fact that you’re just his colleague. right?
“and i’d give up forever to touch you…”
ugh.
he shifts uncomfortably, hoping megumi doesn’t notice his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.
that kiss wasn’t just some fleeting thing — he’d known it the second he felt the warmth of you linger even after pulling away. the idea of letting you go now feels… impossible. something’s tugging him back, making him want more.
“hey, daddy,” megumi pipes up again, breaking toji’s brooding. “you got that look again.”
“what look?” toji mutters, trying to focus on anything but the goofy grin creeping back onto his face.
megumi smirks, mimicking toji’s soft expression. “that ‘i kissed a pretty lady’ look!”
toji laughs, shaking his head as he glances at megumi in the rearview mirror. “alright, alright. i guess you caught me.”
and as he drives home, the final notes of iris playing softly through the car, he can’t shake the feeling that this… whatever this is… isn’t something he’s ready to let go of.
ah, shit.
as soon as toji sets megumi down on his bed, tucking him in amongst the mountain of ridiculous plushies he’d somehow won at the arcade, he heads back to his room. sliding his phone out, he finds himself doing something he never thought he’d do: texting gojo. of all people.
with a reluctant sigh, he taps out a message, feeling a pang of embarrassment he can’t shake.
you [8:47 pm]: how long’s her contract with gojo sonic?
a moment later, he watches the screen, regretting even reaching out. but, of course, gojo wastes no time with a reply.
gojo s. [8:50 pm]: ohohohohooooo her contract??? gojo s. [8:50 pm]: i knew it. you’re smitten. you [8:51 pm]: don’t start. gojo s. [8:51 pm]: too late! c’mon, dish it out, big guy. gojo s. [8:51 pm]: you guys had a moment, huh? the chemistry finally snapped? what’d ya do, kiss her?
toji clenches his jaw, hesitating before typing back. his thumb hovers, wondering how much grief he’d get for saying yes. finally, he mutters a curse under his breath and just goes for it.
you [8:53 pm]: ...yeah, i kissed her. happy?
he can practically feel gojo’s cackle vibrating through the phone.
gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WHAT??? gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WAIT. gojo s. [8:53 pm]: oh, i need details. gojo s. [8:53 pm]: full play-by-play. gojo s. [8:53 pm]: like was it one of those slow, cinematic moments? gojo s. [8:54 pm]: or was it a grab and smooch kinda deal??
toji rolls his eyes, fighting off a grin he refuses to admit is there. of all the reactions, he’d been prepared for gojo’s nosiness, but it’s still as annoying as ever.
you [8:55 pm]: shut it. i already said too much. gojo s. [8:55 pm]: pfffff as if i’m letting you get away with that tidbit and no context. gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did she look at you all wide-eyed? gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did you do that thing with your voice?? gojo s. [8:56 pm]: or was it just an accidental, “oh no, we tripped into each other’s faces” sorta thing?
toji rubs his temples, trying to block out how much his stupid heart rate picks up just remembering the way you looked up at him, the softness of your lips, the way it all felt so natural. he shakes his head, forcing the memory aside.
you [8:57 pm]: none of your business, and it’s private. you [8:57 pm]: don’t you dare send any of this to suguru. gojo s. [8:57 pm]: oh relax! suguru’s not that nosy. gojo s. [8:57 pm]: okay maybe he is. gojo s. [8:58 pm]: but he’s a romantic. gojo s. [8:58 pm]: think of it as getting free relationship coaching!! you [9:00 pm]: i swear to god satoru i’ll leave the company if you spill this.
there’s a pause, and for a second toji hopes that maybe he’s scared gojo off.
but, predictably, the next message makes his blood pressure spike.
gojo s. [9:05 pm]: ohhhhh no no you’re not getting off that easy. gojo s. [9:05 pm]: i’m calling dibs on being the flower girl at your wedding. suguru can be the maid of honor. gojo s. [9:06 pm]: no nvm he’d wanna be the best man gojo s. [9:06 pm]: I’LL GET MEGUMI TO CARRY THE RINGS gojo s. [9:06 pm]: genius.
toji practically growls at his phone, already regretting every second of this conversation.
you [9:07 pm]: i’ll delete this whole damn thread. this never happened, got it? gojo s. [9:09 pm]: aww, toji bear, don’t be like that. i’ll take care of your little love story for you, promise. consider me your personal wingman. gojo s. [9:10 pm]: now tell me this — when’s round two of smooch central happening? you [9:11 pm]: goodnight, satoru.
and with that, he shoves his phone onto his nightstand, rubbing his face with a hand. he can still feel the lingering warmth of that kiss, the way his heart skipped, the unexpected tenderness that’s lodged itself in his mind.
stupid.
he shouldn’t have even told gojo.
but as much as he regrets letting it slip, he doesn’t regret the kiss itself.
not even a bit.
as soon as you slam your door shut, you just… stand there for a minute, heart racing, and press your fingers to your lips like it’ll somehow reverse what just happened.
you kissed toji fushiguro.
the toji fushiguro.
colleague extraordinaire, with biceps that could probably benchpress your entire life’s savings, and that smirk… oh god, that smirk that had you in a daze.
but the problem?
there was a mini him there.
a little him with matching black hair and a sharp gaze.
you thought he was, like, the cool uncle? but… he’s a dad?
and if he’s a dad… does that mean he’s married? are you the other woman?!
you pace around, practically stomping into the carpet.
“okay, okay, let’s think this through,” you mutter, putting your hands on your hips.
“he… he could be a single dad, right? it’s 2024, it’s not that weird for people to have kids without, like, commitment commitments. but then again, he does look like the type who’d… i don’t know, maybe be exclusive? probably?”
your brain is racing, and you’re spinning yourself into circles.
“i mean, i haven’t seen a ring on his finger… but maybe he just doesn’t wear it?” you plop down on your couch, practically sinking into it as you cover your face with both hands.
ugh.
“did i just kiss a married man? or worse… what if he’s, like, engaged? or has a live-in girlfriend? or — oh my god, what if he’s in some high-profile relationship and i just stepped into the middle of it? —”
you groan, flopping back. “but he… he definitely leaned in first. i’m not hallucinating. he did! but then, if he’s that willing to kiss me, does that mean he’s… a cheater?”
you sit up and shake your head, wide-eyed. “okay, no, i refuse to believe that toji fushiguro, mr. brooding and brooding-er with a kid who listens to korn, is a cheater. there’s no way… right?”
your own voice is almost pleading as you try to convince yourself, pacing again.
“i mean, maybe he’s just… really, really committed to… being mysterious. yeah, that makes sense. he’s keeping everything a secret, so that just leaves me spiraling about him… perfect. just perfect.”
you smack a hand against your forehead. “why couldn’t i have asked literally any of this earlier?” you shake your head. “right, because i was too busy kissing him.”
you throw yourself back onto the couch and stare at the ceiling, the whole thing replaying in your head.
that look he gave you, the warmth of his hand on your back…
stop.
but it’s too late. your brain keeps running with it.
“what if… what if he has no idea i’m freaking out?” you frown. “oh, he probably doesn’t. and here i am, making a whole drama out of one kiss.” you let out a deep sigh.
you flop onto your bed, heart still pounding, and stare up at the ceiling, fingers absently grazing your lips.
burning loins, they said. melting from one kiss, they said.
well, no one exactly said that — except every steamy novel you’ve ever read or written, but that’s beside the point.
you groan, kicking your feet up in frustration. this isn’t one of your own novels! it’s supposed to be real life! but now here you are, in the aftermath of what was arguably the best kiss you’ve ever had, practically combusting at the memory of it.
“if one kiss with toji — no, any man — can get me this hot and bothered, how am i supposed to handle it if i ever… you know…” your voice trails off, and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow as if it’ll smother the absurd train of thought.
but then, just as you start to get your mind off it, his face pops back up in your head.
“oh god,” you mumble, pulling the pillow over your face. “this is pathetic.” you roll over again, laughing helplessly to yourself.
if this is what one or two kisses do to me… what’ll happen if we actually have sex?
your eyes snap open. “okay, no. no! i didn’t mean toji, i meant, like… any guy! any guy at all! but, oh god, why is it always him?!”
you stare at the ceiling, huffing as your brain keeps looping back to him.
his stupidly attractive smirk, the way his hand was firm but gentle on your back, how he looked at you as if you were his next breath.
girl, get a grip.
“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, swatting at your face like it’ll erase his image from your mind. but it doesn’t work; he’s right there, all hot and smug in your imagination. ugh, this isn’t fair!
it’s like all those countless hours you spent spinning erotic fantasies are coming back to haunt you — and in the most inconvenient, infuriating way possible. you scrunch up your face, realizing with mild horror that maybe… just maybe… you wrote this scenario into existence for yourself.
“oh no… is this karma?” you groan, curling up and swatting the air in helpless embarrassment. “girl, this is not supposed to happen in real life. or with toji.”
but there it is: his face, and your wildly racing heart, and the undeniable, excruciating heat pooling in your belly that refuses to quit.
but even with the spiraling, there’s one thing you can’t deny: as much as it’s driving you crazy, as much as you’re practically scaring yourself into thinking you’ve just made the worst mistake of your life…
you kinda don’t regret it. and that’s the scariest part.
ah, shit.
you step into gojo-sonic, clutching your bag with a little more intensity than usual, and it’s as if you’ve entered an alternate dimension.
the energy is somehow… different. you expect to be greeted with the usual casual nods and waves, but instead, gojo is practically skipping toward you, arms spread wide like he’s welcoming the new queen of the recording studio.
“there she is! our star of the show, our resident heart-throb wrangler!” he coos, louder than necessary. his grin is blinding, and you’re caught between the urge to backpedal out of the building or dive under the nearest desk.
“uh… good morning?” you reply, more like a question than a statement, glancing around to see if anyone else is picking up on his hyperness. it’s like he’s had twelve cups of coffee or ten bags of skittles. “gojo, you’re… kind of extra today.”
“extra? extra?” he throws a hand over his heart, eyes gleaming. “honey, i’m never just ‘extra.’ i am exactly the right amount of gojo for the occasion.”
“and what occasion is that, exactly?”
“oh, nothing much, just a certain someone having an… enlightening encounter last night,” he says with a wink so exaggerated it looks like he’s trying to shoo a bug off his face.
you stiffen. “wait, how do you…?”
“oh, come on,” he waves it off, laughing. “you think you can keep something like that from me? i mean, i might be blessed with an enormous amount of talent, looks, and charisma, but i also happen to have eyes and ears everywhere.” he taps his temple, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.
“seriously?” you glance around, your stomach sinking a little, looking for any sign of smirking coworkers or curious eyes, but everyone’s just… normal? going about their business, not sparing you a second glance. relief washes over you, only to be swept away by gojo’s piercing stare.
“oh, don’t worry. i haven’t shared your scandalous rendezvous with the world. only i am privy to this delightful information — for now,” he adds, wagging a finger. “and don’t look so shocked! nothing juicy stays hidden from me for long. i know all the company secrets.”
you feel heat rise to your cheeks, equal parts exasperated and embarrassed. “gojo, it wasn’t even that big of a deal. it’s not like…” you trail off, realizing he’s hanging on to your every word, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“uh-huh,” he drawls, drawing the word out. “not a big deal, you say? then why do you look like you’re about to start sweating bullets?”
“i’m not sweating bullets,” you say through clenched teeth, then give in and sigh. “look, we just… it was just a… i mean, we’re colleagues, and things got a little… friendly. it doesn’t have to mean anything!”
gojo gasps, mock-horrified. “oh, but darling, this is precisely why it’s so interesting! you, of all people, getting caught up with toji fushiguro? and here i thought you’d sworn off office romances.”
“it’s not an office romance,” you insist, voice practically a whisper. “we just… kissed. once. or twice. maybe. but it doesn’t mean anything!”
gojo leans in, conspiratorially. “and yet you look ready to combust from the inside out just talking about it.”
you huff, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “maybe it’s because someone is making this into a bigger deal than it actually is.”
“you wound me!” he presses a hand dramatically to his chest, giving you an exaggerated pout. “but don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me. i only told you so you’d know that i know. and, you know, to make things extra awkward in case mr. heart-throb walks in.”
“oh, so you’re really just out to make my life difficult?”
he grins, all teeth. “precisely.”
just then, as if summoned by some cruel twist of fate, toji strolls in. he’s the absolute picture of normalcy, no hint whatsoever of last night’s… moment.
in fact, he gives you a polite nod, a polite nod, as if he hadn’t had you pressed against your own door just hours ago.
“morning,” he says casually, voice smooth, tone nonchalant. he doesn’t even so much as smirk.
you nearly choke. polite nod? normal greeting? did he forget the entire thing?
“oh, morning,” you manage, clearing your throat, feeling like you’re about to combust again.
gojo, however, is having the time of his life. he’s practically vibrating next to you, watching the exchange with glee.
“morninggg, fushiguro,” he greets toji, voice syrupy with unrestrained glee. “any exciting news today?”
toji raises an eyebrow, shooting him a confused look. “uh, no? everything’s pretty normal.” his eyes flick over to you, calm, almost neutral, as if he hadn’t kissed you senseless just last night.
you clench your jaw. is he really going to act like this? you nearly feel like gaslighting yourself into thinking last night never happened. maybe you just dreamed it, right?
toji’s gaze flicks away from you, unperturbed, as he moves over to get his things ready for the day’s recording. and that’s when gojo leans over and mutters under his breath, “you sure you don’t want to just… remind him?”
“i hate you,” you mutter back, trying not to smile, knowing that he’s secretly rooting for you to fall flat on your face with this whole ordeal.
“i live for your misery, my friend,” he replies with a wink.
meanwhile, toji was absolutely in another dimension of romcom chaos himself, feeling like some kind of high school kid who just had his first crush. he woke up grinning, actually giggling as he got dressed.
giggling. when was the last time he did that?
he nearly skipped out the door, and on his drive to work, he found himself humming, humming, to his car stereo like some lovestruck fool. and he didn’t stop there. oh no.
by the time he reached gojo-sonic, he’d already run through a few extra vocal warm-ups in the car — something he never did this early. he cleared his throat and ran through his usual lines twice, even testing his pitch a bit. no, not because he wanted to be extra smooth today, of course not. he was doing it for the… for the paycheck.
definitely.
but as soon as he walked into the studio, and he saw you standing there beside gojo, looking all kinds of pretty and polished… he practically heard violins. except no, it wasn’t violins.
it was, somehow, worse.
his mind cued up dancing queen.
“no. nope. nope.” he muttered under his breath, trying to swat the ridiculous soundtrack out of his mind. but it wouldn’t stop.
“dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine, oh, yeah….”
why, in the name of all things sacred, was his brain doing this to him? he was toji fushiguro, not some idiot falling over his own feet for a girl at work. he gave himself a good shake, squared his shoulders, and tried to keep his composure. yet every time he caught your eye, his chest did a little flip — and dammit if he didn’t want to just pick you up and give you another kiss right then and there.
“morning,” he forced out, nodding as casually as he could.
and there you were, gaping back with that hint of nervousness, looking like you might combust from just a regular “good morning.”
god, it was almost cute enough to make him actually laugh out loud.
“she’s just a colleague,” he reminded himself, over and over again, as he worked to keep the grin off his face. “a colleague. not some romcom lead you just made out with in front of her apartment.”
yet the way dancing queen kept droning in his head, as if mocking his every move? toji was seriously questioning whether he’d woken up in some kind of alternate reality.
and he just knew gojo was watching the whole thing with a smug look, likely dying to crack a joke, or worse, belt out dancing queen if he somehow figured out what was in toji’s head.
and knowing gojo? he probably already had.
the studio door clicked shut as gojo swept out with an exaggerated bow, holding up his finger in a silent “one minute” before he launched into his call with suguru in a voice loud enough to be heard two floors down. gojo was probably already going on about the “incredible chemistry” between his favorite team members, or whatever nonsense he’d decided on for today.
and with him out of the room, it was just you and toji.
alone.
in silence.
you shifted on your feet, eyes darting everywhere except directly at him, yet somehow landing right back on him. it was like your brain had a toji magnet switched on, and no matter how hard you tried to look elsewhere, you found yourself glancing back at him.
finally, the quiet got so charged that you both ended up blurting out at the exact same time —
“are you single?”
you both froze, then looked at each other, wide-eyed, like you couldn’t believe you’d just asked that out loud.
“uh,” toji coughed, scratching the back of his neck. “well. yeah, i am. single, that is.
“oh.” you tried to act cool, but it came out as a slightly breathless squeak. “good to know.”
“and you?” he asked, voice low, almost cautious, as if bracing himself for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.
“also single,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “which… is also good to know.”
there was a beat of quiet where you both just kind of looked at each other, a half-smile creeping onto his face as you kept shifting on your feet, practically melting under the intensity of his gaze.
“so…” you cleared your throat, your hands fidgeting a little as you gathered the nerve to ask the next thing. “didn’t know you had a kid.”
“oh, yeah.” toji chuckled, a hint of fondness lighting up his expression as he thought of his son. “he’s my kid, alright. handful and a half, that one.”
“he’s adorable.” you smiled, thinking back to the mini toji who had totally stolen your heart. “how old is he?”
“eight.” toji’s voice softened, a rare warmth in his tone that you’d never heard before. “he, uh… he means a lot to me. not that i’d ever tell him that, though. don’t want him thinking he’s got me wrapped around his little finger or anything.”
you laughed, picturing the little boy with his big grin and fearless energy. “something tells me he already knows.”
“yeah, probably.” toji laughed too, and for a moment, there was an ease between you, a shared warmth that made the whole moment feel so… natural.
“so… um, are you, like… a single dad?” you asked, careful with your words, not wanting to pry too deeply.
“yeah.” his answer was simple, but there was a weight to it. “just me and the kid. been that way for a while.”
“that’s…” you bit your lip, not sure what to say without sounding weirdly sentimental. “that’s admirable. megumi’s lucky to have you.
“i don’t know about all that,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the praise but unable to hide a small smile. “just doing what i can, you know?”
“still,” you said, feeling a swell of admiration you hadn’t expected. “it’s impressive. and honestly… seeing you with him yesterday? it was… kinda heartwarming.”
toji looked at you, eyes softening in a way that made your heart stutter.
“thanks,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “means a lot, hearing that.”
the two of you stood there, closer than you realized, in this weird bubble where everything felt warm and intense and perfect. just as you felt that strange magnetic pull drawing you closer, like maybe you’d just close the gap and —
the studio door banged open.
“don’t stop on my account!” gojo sing-songed, practically sashaying back into the room, a smirk plastered across his face.
you both leaped back, clearing your throats and suddenly finding the walls, the floor, anything else in the room utterly fascinating.
“alright, lovebirds, let’s get this recording started, shall we?” gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked between the two of you, not even pretending he hadn’t just caught a whole moment.
toji settled into the recording booth, leaning back in the chair with the script in hand, his voice dipping to that low, gravelly tone that made every line sound like an invitation.
“so,” he began, speaking as the dragon king to the main character in the script, his words practically dripping with intensity, “you think you can resist me? i see right through you… even the bravest warriors have trembled at my touch.”
your breath caught as he delivered the line, eyes wide as you watched him through the glass.
you couldn’t help it — his character was practically staring into your soul, voice thick and slow, practically wrapping around each word.
“do you know what happens to those who challenge me?” toji continued, his eyes narrowing as he held the script in one hand, his gaze piercing. “they are forced to surrender… one way or another.”
outside the booth, you practically felt yourself melting, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt.
toji’s voice, his delivery — it was all too much. how was it possible for him to sound that… that intense? it was like he was actually speaking to you.
“ah, beautiful.” gojo, standing beside you, broke in with a theatrical sigh. “our dragon king sounds magnificent, doesn’t he? i could practically faint!”
you shot him a quick glare, barely masking a smirk. “keep it down, gojo. he’s in the middle of it.”
“oh, i’m just here to appreciate the artistry,” gojo whispered back, feigning innocence as he leaned in to watch, hands clasped together dramatically.
“the choice is yours,” toji went on, his voice softer now, laced with something tender that made it impossible to look away. “join me… or keep pretending this —” he emphasized the word, letting it linger “ — isn’t exactly what you’ve been wanting.”
you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze even through the glass.
was he delivering that line as the dragon king or as… well, toji?
but then —
“ohhhh!” gojo chimed in loudly, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck by an arrow. “the passion! the romance! our hero’s heart is pounding!”
toji paused, rolling his eyes as he looked at gojo through the glass. “you really gonna keep interrupting, gojo?”
“oh, don’t mind me,” gojo said, waving a hand. “i’m simply enjoying the magic in the air! please, carry on. do go on.” he pretended to dab at his eyes. “so moving.”
toji gave a small sigh but threw you a barely-there smile before settling back into character.
“and when you finally stop running…” his voice softened, a quiet urgency threading through it.
“i’ll be here, waiting… because you belong to me, whether you admit it or not.”
your heart skipped a beat, and you found yourself leaning in, hanging onto every word, caught up in the sheer pull of his voice.
you didn’t know if it was his talent as a voice actor, the lines he was reading, or him, but every word was drawing you in deeper, bit by bit.
“ah, what is it like to be so passionately claimed by a dragon king? how riveting!” gojo murmured dramatically, as if providing a play-by-play to an audience. “she’s helpless, entranced! they both know she’s falling!”
toji cast a pointed look at gojo, barely concealing a smirk. “you done yet, gojo?”
gojo merely grinned, shrugging. “hey, i’m just here to make sure the romance shines through. and oh, don’t worry — it’s definitely shining.”
toji rolled his eyes but kept going, lowering his voice to a rumbling murmur. “if you don’t know where your heart lies, then i’ll show you.”
he paused, his words lingering in the air like a promise, like he was speaking directly to you.
by now, the studio felt suffused with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. it didn’t help that every time gojo piped in with another comment, it only made you feel more painfully aware of every detail: the way toji’s gaze kept flickering your way, the way your own pulse raced faster with each line he spoke.
“the truth is right in front of you,” toji continued, his voice dropping low, rough, something smoldering behind each word. “all you have to do is reach out… and claim it.”
“gorgeous! breathtaking!” gojo burst out, clapping his hands loudly. “i can practically see the sparks flying! ah, young love!”
toji finally broke character, raising a brow at gojo with a look of pure exasperation. “you gonna let me finish or not?”
gojo waved a hand. “fine, fine. but for real — if you two don’t kiss after this, i might have to stage a re-shoot.”
both you and toji threw your hands up simultaneously, voices raised in exasperation.
“gojo, would you please stop interrupting!”
“yeah, seriously, man,” toji added, shaking his head as he glanced over at you with a shared look of pure frustration.
“okay, okay! sheesh!” gojo shrieked, actually shrieked, as he staggered back in mock terror, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “all i wanted was to witness some workplace romance! is that so wrong?”
“yes, gojo, very wrong,” you shot back, rubbing your temples. “this is literally supposed to be professional — you should know that.”
toji snorted, crossing his arms as he smirked at gojo. “for once, i agree. you’ve got all the dramatic flair of a middle-schooler.”
“excuse me,” gojo replied, flipping an imaginary hair strand over his shoulder. “i’ll have you know my artistic eye is very advanced.” he let out a huff, but from the grin on his face, you could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
you shook your head, exasperated. “look, can we just get this recording done without any more —”
“interruptions,” toji finished for you, raising a brow as he glanced over at gojo.
“fine, fine!” gojo finally backed off, dramatically sliding into a chair in the corner, arms folded in mock offense. “i’ll be silent as a stone. a beautiful, thoughtful stone.”
you exchanged another look with toji, both of you sighing in unison.
something told you both that it was going to be a very long day, especially with gojo’s creative direction…
toji, after finishing a solid block of recording, had ended up chatting with the sound techs, leaving you flipping through your phone while you waited.
gojo, in his usual meddling fashion, suddenly brightened up and declared, “oh! why don’t you have a little chat with suguru? i told him you were here. he insisted on saying hello!”
you raised an eyebrow. “uh, sure?”
gojo sent you a link to join the video call, and soon suguru’s face popped up on the screen. his calm expression softened slightly when he saw you. “well, hello there. gojo wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had a new ‘star’ at the studio.”
you laughed, feeling a bit flustered. “thanks, geto! i hear you’re a partner at a... famous wine company?”
suguru gave a modest shrug. “yeah, it’s called persephone. it’s a small project that grew bigger than i expected. i handle a lot of the sourcing and marketing — keeps me away from here most of the time.”
“persephone? i’ve heard great things about it!” you said, genuinely impressed. “the way gojo talks about it, it sounds like a pretty big deal.”
he chuckled, glancing to the side as if recalling memories. “i started it with a... friend, actually. she was passionate about wine and had a vision that i couldn’t help but support. i guess i have a soft spot for her, and i... well, care about her a lot.”
you felt your heart warm a little at his sincerity, and the slight hesitation when he spoke of his partner. “it sounds like you two have something special going on,” you said, offering a supportive smile. “i’m sure she appreciates everything you do, especially with how involved you are. and honestly? best of luck. that kind of partnership sounds really meaningful.”
suguru gave a small nod, a faint, appreciative smile on his face.
“thank you. i think she’d like you. maybe one day, if you ever make it out here for one of gojo’s wild wine-tasting parties, we can all meet up.”
“i’d love that!” you replied, already imagining how intriguing that partnership might be. and as you finished up the conversation, it struck you that you’d gotten a glimpse of a different side of suguru — one he clearly didn’t reveal often.
toji hadn’t meant to get distracted, but the second he saw you on a video call with suguru, laughing over whatever he was saying, he couldn’t help it. he’d been halfway listening to the sound tech drone on about waveform patterns, but all of that faded when he caught sight of you smiling on-screen.
who exactly were you talking to like that? why did you look so happy?
the tech was still talking beside him, but toji’s focus was elsewhere.
suguru.
that damn calm, collected face of his.
the same suguru who he’d seen only sparingly around the company, mostly through gojo’s random updates, but who was still one of the few people gojo actually respected.
toji squinted, his jaw tightening as he took a few steps toward you and pretended it was a casual stroll.
why was he doing this? it wasn’t like he had any claim on you, right?
sure, there was that one kiss — or, well, those two kisses, actually.
but still.
he was a grown man, not some jealous kid. yet here he was, feeling like he had to size up suguru over a damn screen.
before he even realized it, toji had closed the distance. without asking, he leaned over your shoulder, practically shoving his face into the camera view as he met suguru’s face.
“hey, suguru,” he drawled, and the way his voice came out a little gruff didn’t escape him. “didn’t know you were interrupting a busy studio day here.”
you blinked, wide-eyed at his sudden closeness, but toji kept his eyes on suguru, ignoring your flustered reaction. suguru looked almost amused, raising an eyebrow at toji’s unannounced intrusion.
“toji. i’m just saying hi to the new talent here,” suguru replied with a smooth smile, clearly unfazed. “i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me meeting one of satoru’s top finds.”
“top find?” toji scoffed, feeling a weird pang at the words. “i’m the one doing all the work here.”
you shot him a look, somewhere between surprised and amused. “toji —”
but he just grunted and kept going, ignoring your attempt to intervene. “so, suguru, been busy with all that wine business, huh?” he went on, as if suguru’s whole life story had suddenly become his priority.
“pretty much,” suguru replied, a slight smirk in his tone. “it’s been keeping me busy, and i have a…close partner who keeps me grounded. speaking of which,” he turned his gaze to you with an amused smile, “she was the one who started persephone. i’m really just there to support her vision.”
“sounds convenient,” toji muttered, but suguru just chuckled.
you nudged him with your elbow, giving him a warning look. “toji, come on,” you whispered, as if he was the one being out of line here.
he let out a low sigh, then pulled back slightly, looking at you as if he’d just remembered himself. “what? ’m just makin’ sure you’re not getting dragged into any fancy wine scams or whatever.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide a smile. “geto’s company is doing fine, toji. it’s called persephone.”
toji folded his arms and gave a dismissive shrug. “well, just saying. i know people.”
the whole room seemed to go a bit quieter, and toji cleared his throat, looking away from suguru's patient amusement.
“nice meeting you, toji,” suguru added, with a slight tilt of his head. “take care of our new ‘top find’ there, alright?”
toji clenched his jaw a little at the words, then nodded, pretending he wasn’t glaring at the camera. “yeah, yeah. we’re all set here.”
as the call ended, you turned to him, eyebrows raised, clearly wanting an explanation. “what was that about?”
toji scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual. “just, y’know…making sure you weren’t getting yourself in with shady people.”
“oh? like, you?”
he let out a bark of laughter, realizing he’d backed himself into a corner. “hey, i’m not shady — i’m just thorough.”
you raised an eyebrow. “thorough? right, that’s the word you’re going with?”
“yeah. and what — you mad at me for caring?”
at that, you went quiet, a faint blush touching your cheeks.
and toji? well, he could only think of those two kisses again, and how stupidly close he’d just gotten to the camera just to… what? size up suguru?
he mentally groaned. what was wrong with him?
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The level of hatred towards women in the US is the background radiation of my life, and I never really think about it from day to day even though I know it’s there. Then bullshit like this fucking election happens* and it’s abruptly yanked to the forefront of my attention. And then the knowledge that I'm so hated is so fucking hard to live with.
*(I know the election didn't cause the massive hatred of women; it just reflects what was already there. The election just brought it into sharp focus.)
i’m sorry but I do view trump winning as indicative of a violent hatred of women in america and an inability for american men to view women as anything other than breeding chambers and sex objects for their own pleasure
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Venus in the houses Ovservation 8-12
Venus in the 8th house: these people are so magnetic it’s insane. They have a dark beauty to them that’s truly captivating. They remind me of Tim Burton characters. But being so magnetic causes a lot of people to become obsessed with them. They attract a lot of stalkers and creepy people. They tend to get sexualized constantly( people make such gross comments to them it’s shocking). I’ve seen these people get catcalled and lustful stares and comments about their body even if they aren’t wearing anything revealing. Even I’ve seen family members make inappropriate comments to these natives, things like “if you weren’t my daughter I’d….” You get the picture 🤮 (8th house ruling taboo attraction ) one of my close friends had to deal with that in her family. They may have been shamed for wearing revealing clothing of too much makeup because it’s seen as “overly sexy” or “hoochie”. People could’ve thought they were sluts even if they never had sex too it’s sad. They can get a lot of hate from people for no reason as well they may be used to people (mostly women) giving them dirty looks or ignoring them/purposely being mean to them. Their presence has such an intense affect on the people around them. Their relationships are also intense as well they attract a lot of people with a dangerous/edgy type vibe to them (junkies, drug dealers, people with a record ect). They have a provocative vibe to them so they can attract some very questionable partners at time. I’ve seen too that they are into gory kinda art or disturbing art pieces/ photography. They are also very proud of their bodies & usually embrace their sexuality. I’ve seen a lot get into nude modeling or just take a lot of pictures of their bodies. They’re more comfortable being nude than most (also this can be a big sugar baby placement as well like Venus in the 2nd).
Venus in 9th house: have such a unique glow to them. They have smiles that can light up a room and their laugh reminds me of wind chimes. I haven’t met a lot of people with this placement but the ones I met I notice they are so intelligent and well spoken. So many people are drawn to them just to hear what they have to talk about. It makes them amazing teachers/gurus. They just always seem like they know what they’re talking about so many describe them as being wide beyond their years (they usually have pretty high IQs as well, Marylin Monroe had this placement) They tend to find spouses while traveling or they can travel a lot with their partner. Their partner might’ve come from a very diverse cultural background or ethnicity. On the negative side these people can be very overly indulgent and sometimes believe that they are always right and their words are law. They can have a big god complex if negatively aspected.
Venus in the 10th house: give superstar vibes. These people put a lot of effort into their career and public image. Most big celebrities/ big politicians I notice have this placement. This can be a big trendsetter placement as well, you’ll notice that many people will admire you and try to copy you a lot! Whether it be you mannerisms, fashion, art style ect. For example Billie Eilish has this placement and everyone went crazy over her baggy clothes style. You have more of an opportunity to make your mark in the world more than the rest of the Venus signs. If afflicted however you can become too obsessed with recognition and status to the point where you abandon important things and people in your life to attain your goals, this can cause someone who has sorta tunnel vision when negatively aspected. It’s important to not get so wrapped up in others image of you so you don’t burn yourself out trying to please everyone (they can be extremely sensitive to criticism & be harsh on themselves to perform perfectly). You can also have a habit of putting your work/career before relationships. You may not settle down till later in life.
Venus in the 11th house: I notice similar to Venus in Aqua that they are really big on friends before lovers typa thing. They don’t really jump into relationships fast without becoming their friend first.( which can be a little annoying to more fast paced types) at first you can make your partner feel friend zoned but the ones who are patient enough to let you open up usually win your heart. They usually put a big emphasis on friends in general and could have a lot of them. If you date someone with this placement it may feel like you’re dating their friends too😭 they’re a very big part of their life. People with this placement usually have many support systems which can help them through life and show them to new opportunities(especially business opportunities). On the flip side I’ve seen these people become too detached with their relationships and treat them like friends rather than lovers which can cause their partner to feel neglected. They tend to find lovey dovey expressions a little awkward (if immature) which can cause them to become aloof when things get a little too close, they may start playing hot and cold. Might need a longer time to mature romantically than most. I’ve seen a lot of influencer and people with popular social media blogs have this placement. They’re very tech savvy & usually own the latest technology.
Venus in 12th house: these people I feel mostly live in their fantasy worlds in terms of love and romance. They are hopeless romantics at heart and have this beautiful vision of how they want their love to look and feel like. However it’s usually difficult for them to find this perfect love in such an imperfect world so they usually end up romanticizing the most mentally ill mfs into like a Prince Charming image lmao. This is why they usually attract a lot of unstable/ emotionally unavailable partners. I’ve seen these people remain celibate for long periods of time as well until they find that perfect love. Most of the time though unfortunately love feels a lot better in their imagination. I’ve read somewhere before that they go through such an ordeal in love because in a past life they chose lovers over loving themselves so a big lesson in this lifetime is to love yourself before you let anyone in. I also read they could’ve lost their soulmate in another life which caused this extreme longing for love in this life. These people usually find love through spiritual practices such as religion, meditation, crystal work, tarot ect.
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did you ever figure it out (?)
( part two of this comic )
#i was saying 'this too is yuri' at their like second interaction ever okay. i have been girldean truther before like.#All of the Things that imply it (sort of). you know what i mean.#nobody can fucking stop me....#i think i am learning a lot abt the shows style making these hehe...#vbros#dawn venture#dean venture#triana orpheus#venture bros#kiwiarts#comic#again. not ship...necessarily.#also yeah i tried doing a background here d'you guys see that.#realized that vbros has lineless painted-y backgrounds and jumped for joy i fukcing hate lining backgrounds#<<<the reason my webcomic takes so long
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They're at a cafe on a rainy day bc.. I want to sit at a cafe w someone and just vibe tgt
#jon is just scrolling thru tiktoks while damian is talking about whatever#also the way they look in my art constantly fluctuates bc for some reason I do a lot of experimentation with them as the subjects#like what do you mean I drew a whole background HUH? I hate to work hard!#i consider going back to rework some previous pieces because my learning has been large over this last month#I'm really really loving how my art looks these days fr tho#i think it feels very pretty to look at :)#anyway no more art for fun and leisure I HAVE A BIG COMMISSION TO DO 😭😭😭 DON'T LET ME DRAW FOR FUN GUYS 😭😭#art#digital art#fanart#screentone#manga style#illustration#jondami#damijon#damian wayne#jon kent#jonathan kent#damian al ghul#damian al ghul wayne#also the sketch layers for this were so bad I didn't even put them in the digi sketchbook HAHAHAHAHA#maybe I'll fish them out tomorrow#might be kinder to myself then!#also.... the way I draw hair at the moment? freakin nice I love it#they're both having hot chocolates btw#me vs everyone should drink hot chocolates actually#also do Not Look at the shoes I know I need to do shoe studies I KNOW. OKAY. I know 😭#jon tilting back his chair and slouching hard bc uh yeah he absolutely is doing that#also as always I don't know how to draw children so they're young adult age 👍#yes I know I have to study how to draw children but please forgive me I am just so silly
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[ID: A TGCF comic. In the first part, Xie Lian harriedly says, "Please never place me on a pedestal."
Hua Cheng is shown disregarding him by carving multiple statues.
Banyue and Lang Qianqiu look up from their framed pictures and fanart of Xie Lian, going, "Huh?"
Mu Qing calls "That's what I've been sayingggg" while Feng Xin slams shut a photo album titled "Memoriez" and yells, "What the fuck! I haven't! Fuck off!"
Bai Wuxiang gestures at Xie Lian's bloody body on an altar and says, "But Xie Lian, you look so good on a pedestal ♡"
Kid Qi Rong disregards him by hanging up paintings of Xie Lian and a banner that says "Cousin Crown Prince".
Jun Wu sips tea from an "I (heart) My Son" Xie Lian mug in front of a Xie Lian merch shrine where he's labeled "God's Favorite" and goes, "Hm? I think I heard the wind."
Xie Lian stands next to a sign that says "Everybody Loves Xie Lian" and cries, "No one listens to me."
In the second part, Xie Lian smiles painfully and says, "Believe me! I'm actually despicable!
A large angry crowd labeled "everyone everywhere" yells, "Yeah!"
Lang Qianqiu furiously points out a sword and yells, "That's right you are!"
Mu Qing excitedly goes, "I knew it! Just like me fr" while Feng Xin shouts, "Mu Qing! You trash!"
Lang Ying stares silently, back to the viewer.
Qi Rong gleefully kicks a kneeling Xie Lian statue, yelling 'Yeah, yeah, yeah! Dog fucker, shit eater!"
Bai Wuxian holds out a cry-smiling mask and says, "So glad you feel that way, darling ♡".
Xie Lian sighs and edits the sign so it says "Everybody HATES Xie Lian, making Hua Cheng ominously go "Excuse me?" in the background. End ID]
Everyone's favorite (or least favorite) martial god...
#WHEEZINGGGGG#BWX AND JW LMAOOOO#described#described by me#tgcf#op please add this id to the original post to make it more accessible! in plain text w/o a readmore :) make any edits necessary!
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JJ x feminist reader when Kamala loses
bro don't even I can't fucking believe it. I'm so sorry american pals and gals, my heart actually bleeds for u (if you're a trump supporter respectfully depart from my blog, I hate him <3)
"No."
"What the fuck-"
"No, this can't be happening-"
"What the actual fuck-"
"No!"
It's like your body is possessed. You stand to your feet and stare at the television like you're watching a train wreck happen before your eyes. And you are. Because Kamala lost, and Trump won.
"And the forty-seventh president of the United States-" the stiff faced newsreader relays "-is Donald J. Trump."
"Fuck!" JJ shouts. He grabs for his beer bottle and lurches it towards the television. The glass shatters against the wall. You drop back down onto the sofa as if you're legs have lost all their strength. Your head falls into your hands and your eyes squeeze shut. It's like a nightmare. This can't be happening.
"This is fucking rigged! It's fucking rigged, I swear to God!" JJ is rambling, angry and heartbroken, almost as much as you. His arm flails out to the television as if personally condemning it for giving this news. "He's a fucking criminal! A fucking criminal and he gets voted in again!"
But it scares you. Scares you in a way that JJ doesn't understand, a way that he would never understand. He lost the power once before, let it slip through his fingers, and you have an awful feeling that he's not going to make that mistake again. Roe versus Wade flashes through your head. Every pregnancy scare you've ever shared with JJ now comes with that extra, looming concern that if you are, if it is real, then you don't have any choice. Well, you do - you have the choice to risk an infection or even death whilst taking autonomy over your body and life. But what next? What could Trump possibly know of what it is to be a woman in America? What was he going to take from the people next?
JJ's arms wrap around you and he tugs you into his side. He presses his face into your hair and plants a kiss to your cheek.
"I'm so sorry."
Tears well into your eyes. "I fucking hate him, JJ."
"I know-"
"No," you snap, "you don't know, JJ. You can hate him but not like I do. Not like we do. I mean, the stuff he's said about women. The stuff he's done-"
You lift your head and meet JJ's eyes. There's the anger there, the rage held back by his sympathy. His jaw is tight but his lips are downturned. He nods. Sighing, you rub at your eyes.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't snap at you."
"Nah, I get it. It's scary."
"It's fucking terrifying," you agree quietly.
JJ presses a kiss to your forehead and you let yourself melt into him. The two of you sit like that on the sofa for a long, long moment. The television rambles in the background, reciting which state voted which party, and you want to scream. It was so close that you could almost taste it. A female president. Wouldn't that have been incredible? A female's perspective. A female in power. A female for all the other little girls to look up to, to dream to be.
"Next time," JJ reassures, as if reading your thoughts like a teleprompter. "I promise it'll happen soon."
#jj x reader#jj maybank x reader#jj#obx#jj maybank#outer banks#outerbanks#outerbanks drabble#outerbanks blurb#outer banks drabble#outer banks blurb#jj drabble#jj blurb#jj x reader drabble#jj x reader blurb#jj x feminist!reader#obx drabble#obx blurb#jj one shot#jj imagine#jj x reader one shot#jj x reader imagine#jj maybank x reader one shot#jj maybank x reader imagine
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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.
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How did ares wedding/proposal go with us
🐀
cw;; violence mentioned, yandere tendencies, murder, hurt/comfort
i think this was the ask that originally had me revealing that you and ares aren't actually married yet. but here's a proposal? kind of. im sure he made you do a big fancy one eventually but!! still.
you have lived with ares for a while now and despite his knack for violence it's been domestic bliss. you go to work, come home, and get adored by your boyfriend. well, boyfriend is a weird term for it. technically you two are boyfriends but somehow ares seemed to have skipped that step. whenever he would introduce himself to people in your life he would call himself your wife and you were his husband. you even got so used to calling him wife you forgot you two weren't actually married.
the only thing that reminded you of your unmarried status was that pretty golden ring around your lover's finger. you were holding his hand, your thumb mindlessly playing with the band while some trashy reality tv show played in the background. you looked at the ring as you started to slide it up his finger.
"....have you ever thought about actually getting married? ..... i mean like to me."
ares turned his head to look at you with confusion. "we're married?"
"no. we're not."
"you're playing with my wedding ring."
"yeah. the wedding ring from your ex husband."
he blinked and then looked down at his hand, his brows furrowed. "oh."
"...so? have you ever thought about marrying me?"
he looked between the ring and your face before smiling softly. "of course I want to marry you. you're my husband."
"but I'm not." you didn't realize just how deeply this was bothering you until you were pouting.
"yes you are."
"no. that stupid... that guy is still your husband. he got you first."
"are you jealous?" ares asked in his flirtatious way, a finger going up to twirl his hair.
"no. i mean... yes but I don't want you to get that way about it. I'm serious."
ares dropped his hand and shifted to face you. "you know I don't care about that man anymore, don't you?"
"i... i guess?" you let out a sigh and looked away from him. "why do you... keep so much stuff that reminds you of him?"
"it doesn't remind me of him." ares reached out and cupped your face in his soft hand, pulling you to look at him again.
you found yourself leaning into his hand. "it's his wedding ring... his heart... you still have some of his clothes."
"i got rid of the hearts like you wanted."
"god, don't say it like that i feel like I'm being unreasonable."
he chuckled. "i want to gouge out the eyes of everyone who looks at you but you're unreasonable?"
you let out a little huff and leaned against his forehead. "maybe we're both unreasonable."
"i don't want you to feel bad, honey bunny. tell me what you need from me and I'll do my best to give you it."
"what if i want to burn down this house with all of his belongings and your ring and run away together?"
"i could arrange that."
you chuckled letting your head fall to his shoulder. "i just... i wish i knew you didn't love him anymore... sometimes i.. i worry you're going to get bored of me, cheat, and kill me."
his fingers ran through your hair coaxing you closer into him until your nose nestled against his neck.
"you're nothing like him. he didn't love me... he was just scared of me all the time. he knew what I was doing and he hated me for it... you would never treat me like that."
"i think most people would be scared of you killing people..."
he pouted. "you're not. you love me."
"yeah because im crazy. and you're crazy."
"I'll never find someone else who loves my crazy like you."
"can i take it off?" you started to slide his ring off as you leaned in for a kiss.
"please. i only want yours. burn away everything. burn him from my skin until only you remain."
you finally caught his lips, his wedding ring discarded somewhere as you began kissing passionately. the next morning you started picking out rings together.
#replies#yandere oc#sub yandere#yandere housewife#yandere x male reader#male reader#top male reader#🐀 anon
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Season 2, Episode 20 - What Is And What Should Never Be (Part One)
Series Masterlist
Author's Note: Hi beauties! Another late update because I started working full time again and I barely even have time for myself. I'm warning you, my updates are going to be much slower from now on. I'm so sorry😭❤️
I know the season finale is next but I will definitely try my absolute best to finish them in time but the only day I get to write now is literally Sunday since its my only day off 💔i said it once, and I’ll say it again I HATE ADULTING
Alright, enough of my rambling. I hope you guys enjoy it!! <3
____________________________________________
Third Person POV
Joliet, Illinois
Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Saturday Night Special’ was blasting through the Impala’s deck as Dean drove. His phone rang and he instantly picked it up upon seeing Y/N’s contact. “Yeah?” Dean answered, “There’s a cop car outside” Y/N whispered into the phone that was on speaker, currently holed up in her motel room with Sam and Jo.
She slightly creased the curtain, standing at the window with a worried expression. “You think it’s for us?” Dean asked. “We don't know” Sam responded, moving from his bed where he and Jo sat to speak into the phone next to Y/N. “I don’t see how it could be for you guys. You ditched the plates, the credit cards.” Jo chimed in. Sam and Y/N let out a breath of relief when the cop car drove away.
“They’re leaving. False alarm” Y/N told Dean as Sam moved back to his bed. “See. There's nothing to worry about, sweetheart” Dean assured her. “Yeah, being fugitives is a fucking dance party” Y/N sassed, pacing the room. Sam snorted at her humor in agreement as he flipped through the books on his bed along with Jo. They were currently hunting a Djinn.
“Hey, chicks dig the danger vibe.” Dean chuckled, “Isn’t that right, Jo? You can’t tell me knowing Sammy is a wanted man isn’t getting your knickers in a twist” Dean’s amused voice boomed through the speaker. Jo blushed and flipped him off even though she knew he couldn’t see her before she rolled her eyes.
“Don’t talk about my knickers, prick!” She retorted as Y/N buckled over in laughter. “That’s not exactly a no, asshole” Dean teased, hearing Y/N’s laugh in the background. Sam threw himself down on his bed, covering his face with a pillow and groaned. “I can’t listen to this,” he complained in a muffled tone.
“Leave the lovebirds alone” Y/N joked after sobering up from her laughter, this made Jo toss a pillow at her as Sam groaned again. Y/N quickly dodged it, blowing Jo a playful kiss. “You got anything?” Y/N asked, changing the subject. “Are you kidding me? How could I? You got me sitting through, like, 50 square miles of real estate here” Dean sassed, making Y/N roll her eyes.
“Well that’s where all the victims disappeared” Y/N pointed out as Sam finally uncovered his face and returned to flipping through his books. “Yeah, well. I got diddly squat. What about you guys?” Dean asked, Y/N looked over at Sam hopefully. He shrugged before gesturing for her to hand him the phone. She did just that.
“We got just one thing. I’m pretty sure of it now. We’re hunting a Djinn” Sam told Dean. “A fucking genie?” Dean cackled, “Yeah.” Sam nodded as Jo tossed her feet up on his lap and Y/N dug through her bag to get her cigarettes. “So what? You think these suckers can really grant wishes?” Dean mused as Y/N lit her cigarette.
“We don’t know. I guess they’re powerful enough. But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants” Jo chimed in as Sam ran his hands up and down her shins. “Yeah, I mean, djinn have been feeding off of people for centuries. They’re all over the Koran” Sam added as Y/N propped herself up on the window still. “My God. Barbara Eden was hot, wasn’t she?” Dean muttered.
“Damn straight. Way hotter than that Bewitched chick” Y/N agreed from across the room. Sam scoffed in annoyance as Jo rolled her eyes, the two shooting Y/N a judgemental look. “Are you two even listening to me?” Sam chastised Dean and Y/N. The psychic pursed her lips, trying to hide her amused smile as she took a drag from her cigarette.
“Ahem. Yeah. So where do the djinns lair up?” Dean asked, clearing his throat. “Ruin, usually. The bigger, the better. More places to hide” Sam explained to him. “Yeah. I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I’m gonna go check it out” Dean told them. Sam’s hands paused on Jo’s shin as he and Y/N’s eyes widened with panic.
Y/N quickly crushed her cigarette in her ashtray, darting over to snatch the phone from Sam. “Are you stupid?! Come pick us up first” Y/N said firmly, “Nah. I’m sure it’s nothing. I just wanna take a look around” Dean assured her. Sam, Jo and Y/N shared an unsure look as Dean hung up the phone.
Y/N sighed heavily, stuffing her phone into her pocket. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this” Sam muttered, worry plastered on his face, “Me too” Y/N agreed.
-
Meanwhile, Dean pulled in-front of the old warehouse. A storm was coming as the thunder clapped. He abruptly exited the Impala, shutting the door as he took out his flashlight. Dean clicked on his flashlight, shining it around the dark surroundings before heading towards the building.
The large door on the front of the building was already open, slightly creaking as it rocked a bit back and forth thanks to the wind. Dean stepped in, immediately noticing all the cobwebs and piles of dirt and sand everywhere. He glanced around with his flashlight, noticing the piles of clothing lying among the debris, and the sound of footsteps made his ears perk up.
He immediately clutched his knife dipped in lamb’s blood, clenching his jaw. Dean stepped closer to the sound of the footsteps, his footsteps light and his ears on high alert. The footsteps continued, and Dean felt his heartbeat start thumping in his ears as the dread started to fill his stomach.
Suddenly, the djinn lunged out from behind a pile of clothes. It was a flash, one moment Dean was simply walking and the next his back was slammed backwards against a wall. The back of his head stung and he was briefly disoriented, dropping his knife as white spots danced in his vision.
Dean grunted as the Djinn’s hand gripped his throat, trying to fight the monster off. The Djinn’s eyes flashed a dark shade of blue, along with his hand. Dean struggled and grunted as the Djinn pressed his glowing tatted hand to his forehead, the hunter’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fell in a sleep-like state.
____________________________________________
Dean’s Dream World
Lawrence, Kansas
Dean gasped awake in the middle of the night to thunder clapping. His eyes wide as he struggled for breath. He found himself in an unfamiliar bed with a naked woman next to him. He tilted his head in confusion as he leaned down to see who the woman was, the last thing he remembered was getting attacked by the Djinn.
Dean’s jaw plummeted to the ground when it turned out the woman next to him was Y/N, a blanket lazily draped over her chest, her back facing him. Dean began to panic instantly, wondering how in the fuck he ended up in bed…naked…next to Y/N fucking L/N.
His eyes drifted down to her lower back to see her anti possession tattoo was not there. His heart was in his ass at this point.
He sat up quickly, his eyes wide as the realization of the situation hit him. He put his hand up to his head and groaned. He glanced at Y/N’s sleeping form and swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw her eyes were shut. “Motherfucker” He mumbled, glancing at the clock on the bedside table.
4:32 A.M. He slowly removed the covers, silently standing up and grabbing his jeans off ground and quickly got dressed.
-
Now fully dressed, Dean exited the bedroom, strolling around the unfamiliar house. Not in any way used to the environment. He had no idea what the hell was going on. He switched on a light and did what his mind instantly told him to do. He called his little brother.
“Dean?” Sam answered, confused as to why his brother was calling him at this ungodly hour. “Sam?” Dean whispered in relief, trying to keep his voice at bay. “What’s going on?” Sam asked, concerned. “I don’t know where the fuck I am man” Dean told him. “What? What happened?” Sam gasped, now worried.
“Well, the uh, the djinn. It attacked me” Dean told him, running his hand over his face. “The gin? You’re drinking gin?” Sam’s brows furrowed. “No, dumbass. The djinn! The scary creature, remember?” Dean exclaimed lowly. “It put its hand on me and then I woke up in bed next to Y/N!!” Dean explained, his heart pounding out of his chest.
“You mean your fiancée?” Sam snorted. Dean’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the ground in surprise. “My WHAT!?” He exclaimed, eyes going even wider if possible. “My fiancée? When the fuck did that happen” He repeated, absolutely flabbergasted.
“Dean, you’re drunk. You’re drunk dialing me” Sam shook his head as he laughed. “No, I am not drunk! Quit fucking around!!” Dean exclaimed lowly, “Look. It’s late. Alright? Just get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Sam brushed it off, instructing his brother to sleep it off. “Wait. Sam! Sam!!” Dean gritted his teeth but the line went dead.
-
Palo Alto, California
Sam chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he sighed deeply before shutting his Criminal Law and Procedure book.
-
Lawrence, Kansas
Y/N heard Dean arguing and slowly awoke, eyes wide with confusion as she sat up and looked around. She realized Dean wasn’t in the bed with her anymore and her stomach dropped. She glanced at the bathroom, it was quiet so he couldn’t be in there. She then saw a faint light coming from the hallway.
Outside, Dean groaned as he looked around nervously. He quickly stuffed his phone into his pocket, his eyes landing on a stack of mail that was placed neatly ontop of the dining room table. His eyes widened again when he picked it up to see, ‘Y/N L/N. #53 Barker Ave. Lawrence, Kansas’ written on the first letter.
Inside their shared room, Y/N pulled the covers off her body before wrapping her light blue robe around her and slowly padded out into the hall, peering into the kitchen to see Dean rifling through mail.
“Lawrence?” Dean muttered to himself, sifting through the mail. ‘Dean Winchester. #53 Barker Ave. Lawrence, Kansas’ was written on the next letter. “What the fuck????” Dean mumbled, his heart stopped when a sleepy voice behind him said. “Charming?” He spun around to see Y/N, clutching her robe to her chest.
“What are you doing up?” Her soft voice of concern honeyed his ears. “Hey…Y/N” Dean said sheepishly as his ‘fiancée’ approached him. His heart beating out of his chest. “Y/N. I just- uh-” Dean stammered, “Oh, you can’t sleep, huh?” She cut him off in a sultry tone, running her hands over his chest. His eyes glanced down at his left hand to see a very familiar ring placed neatly on her ring finger.
The ring his father gave him the day he died belonged to his mother. Sam was indeed not lying when he said that Y/N was his fiancée. Dean’s breath got caught in his throat at Y/N’s touch and the tone in her volume. “Yeah,” Dean chuckled nervously. “Well, why don’t you come back to bed and let’s see if I can do anything to help?” Y/N suggested, her voice low as she snaked her arms around his neck.
Dean shivered involuntarily when Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. He felt his whole body stiffen as her fingers traced the nape of his neck. His cheeks began to heat up as his eyes looked down at her, the blue robe she was wearing hugged her body perfectly. The low tone of her voice sent a small jolt down to the pit of his stomach.
“Well- um- Princess- ” He mumbled nervously as he tried to make an excuse. He didn’t get a chance to say anything again when she attached her lips to his. Dean’s eyes widened as Y/N’s lips crashed onto his own. He let out a small gasp of surprise against her mouth at her sudden movement.
His brain shut down as his hands automatically moved to grab her waist. Dean shut his eyes, groaning in the back of his throat at the feel of her lips finally against his. But it didn’t feel right. It felt off, he knew the Djinn had something to do with this but he couldn’t wrap his mind around it since the love of his life, the woman he believed didn’t him love back, Y/N fucking L/N’s tongue was down his throat.
The kiss deepened as she parted her lips for him and slowly began to pull him back towards the bedroom. Dean’s brain was screaming to stop. This wasn’t what he wanted, but the feel of her lips against his. The way her tongue was exploring his mouth. It was driving him crazy. And he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her back.
His tongue slipped into her mouth, moving against hers. He moaned low, the sound getting muffled by the kiss. He backed her up against the wall of the hallway, pinning her there with his body.
SNAP OUT OF IT WINCHESTER!
“No, no. Stop” Dean whined, forcefully peeling himself away from her. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t have sex with her. As much as he wanted to, so fucking badly. He couldn’t do it. Not like this.
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and her smile faded from her face at his words. “Huh?” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned her back against the wall and tilted her neck to look up at him. “Why?” She asked confused as he ran hand through his hair, putting a decent amount of distance between y/n and him.
She stepped closer to him again, placing her hands on his chest. “C’mon baby.” She whispered in a seductive tone, a small smirk on her lips, “What’s wrong? You’re not one to deny sex” She asked concerned. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as she spoke, his breathing becoming a bit more labored.
“Y/N, I- ” He began, his mind racing to find words to explain the situation. But then Y/N pressed chest to his, her palms pressing into his chest. Dean’s mind immediately went blank as she looked up at him with those damn eyes. That damn look is gonna kill him. “I’m just tired, sweetheart” Dean lied fluidly, praying she’ll take the bait.
Y/N’s expression softened a bit as she stared up at him. She could tell it was a lie, by his facial expressions, but she didn’t push him for answers. “Oh, baby” She said tenderly, her hand moving up to caress his cheek. “Why don’t you come back to bed then. I’ll just hold you. How does that sound?” She asked, her voice sweet as honey.
Dean’s heart skipped a beat as she placed her hand on his cheek. Getting held by Y/N didn't sound like a bad idea right about now. His eyes flicked down to her lips, wanting to kiss her again.
God, it’d be so easy.
He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply, leaning his head against hers. “You go ahead, I’m right behind you” He whispered. Dean wanted this to be real, he was praying it was. Y/N’s lips curled into a soft smile at his reply. She brushed her thumb over his cheek before standing on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead softly.
“Alright, don’t take too long” She whispered, patting his shoulder before making her way back to the bedroom. At the doorway, she gave him one last glance before heading back into the bedroom.
Dean groaned under his breath as he watched her disappear into the room. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Dean’s mind was racing. This was all wrong. How the hell did he end up naked in bed with his friend who he was secretly in love with but also his supposed ‘fiancée’?
This was all some sick game the djinn was playing with him. Dean knew they possibly granted wishes, it was no secret that Dean wished for y/n to be his…could it be? Could the Djinn have actually given him what he desperately wanted? Even though he never said it out loud, is it possible the Djinn knew somehow?
Dean began to investigate the house, peering around the living room. He took in the pictures of him and y/n that were placed neatly around the room. Pictures of them on vacation with y/n wearing a big floppy hat, pink two piece bikini and Dean in a matching white shirt with pink swim trunks on.
Dean’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest as he picked up a photo of him and y/n at a beach. It was summer, both of them were soaked, and both was wearing bright smiles with shades on. Dean’s hand trembled as he observed the picture.
He set it down before walking over to the bookshelf, he let his fingers brush over the spines of each book. He was trying to look for a clue, anything to tell him this wasn’t real.
He went back to looking at the pictures. A small smile gracing his face when his eyes landed on a frame that held a picture of the two hugging. Y/N had a big grin on her face, holding out her hand to the camera, showcasing her engagement ring while Dean’s eyes were trapped on her. The starstruck gaze he had on her in the picture was oozing with love and admiration. The two seemed to be at a concert in the picture.
Dean felt his heart swell as he took in the picture. He had no recollection of any of these memories. Curiosity got the best of him, so he turned the picture frame around and took the picture out. Written on the back was ‘Bon Jovi, Nashville Tennesse. February 14th, 2006. She said yes!’ In his handwriting.
His heart leaped to his throat again as he read the writing. This must be when he proposed to her. He sat down on the couch, a wave of emotions washed over him. His fingers trembled as he stared down at the picture in his hand.
Dean’s eyes scanned the room once again, his eyes landing on a particular picture. He thought he was gonna cry upon seeing it, his entire world stopped. Dean Winchester dropped the picture frame, the glass shattering on the ground and instantly left the house.
____________________________________________
The Impala pulled up to the Winchester residence, the L/N residence right across from theirs. Both houses were still intact, the L/N residence not burnt to a crisp. Dean shakily stepped out of the Impala, shutting the door behind him.
He walked up the porch and began banging on the door harshly, ringing the bell a few times until the light came on outside. The door opened to reveal a very alive and well Mary Winchester, a worried expression etched on her face. “Dean?” She said softly, sleep potent in her voice, clutching her robe to her chest.
Dean's eyes widened, tears welling up at his emerald irises. “Mom?” Dean gasped, “What are you doing here? Are you alright?” Mary asked her son, concerned. Dean gulped, unsure of how to feel at this exact moment. “I don’t know” He croaked. “Well, come inside” Mary ushered him inside. His body was stiff, still in shock but he managed to pull himself inside.
“Y/N just called and said you took off all of a sudden” Mary said as she shut the door behind her. “Y/N? Right…” Dean muttered, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from his mother. His very alive mother. “Let me ask you a question. When I was a kid, what did you and Mrs. L/N always tell me when you put me to bed?” Dean asked as he swallowed hard, he wanted this to be real.
Mary’s brows furrowed in confusion as she folded her arms across her chest, “Dean, I don’t understand-” She was cut off, “Just answer the question” Dean snapped. His mothers eyes softened, “We told you angels were watching over you” Mary answered, Dean felt as though he was about to break down into pieces.
“I don’t believe it” Dean almost sobbed before pulling his mother into a tight hug. Mary grunted in surprise as her son’s strong arms engulfed her. Confused from the random show of appreciation, “Honey, you’re scaring me” The motherly tone in her voice echoed through his ears as she gently rubbed his back. “What’s going on?”
“You don’t think that wishes can- can really-?” Dean stammered, his words getting lost in his throat. “What?” Mary asked confused, “Forget it” Dean smiled, pulling his mother into a hug again that he longed for since he was a little boy. “Forget it. I’m just, uh— I’m happy to see you, that’s all” Dean held back his tears as he buried his face in his mother’s hair.
His brows creased, his breath constricting in his throat as he melted into the embrace before pulling away, “You're beautiful” Dean chuckled tearfully before pulling away. “What?” Mary gasped confused. The padding of footsteps made Dean’s ears perk up, his head swung around to see M/N, squinting her sleepy eyes at him.
F/N wasn’t in town, he was coming back tomorrow and M/N never liked staying alone in her house. So, it became tradition whenever either of their husbands went out of town, M/N and Mary would sleep in each other's guest room. Clutching her own robe to her chest, “Dean, what are you doing here?” Y/N’s mom asked him, equally confused.
“I-uh” Dean started, his words caught in his tongue again as he saw Y/N’s mom. Her hair was tousled, her eyes were tired and squinty from being dragged out of a dead sleep. “Mrs. L/N!?” Dean gasped, now engulfing his soon to be mother-in-law in a tight hug.
She was alive. His mother was alive. It was all surreal.
M/N chuckled and patted his back as she returned the hug with her own. Mary just stared at the two with a slight smile on her face. “It’s great to see you too, hun. But why are you here, now of all times?” She asked as she pulled a little away to look up at him.
“Uh- I uh- just missed you guys” Y/N’s mother chuckled at his words and pinched his cheek. “Aren’t you a sweet thing?” She teased, her lips curving into a small smile. “Did Y/N kick you out of the house again?”
Dean’s smile faltered slightly. He felt on the verge of tears again, the only thing keeping him grounded was the feel of M/N in his arms. Just the mention of Y/N set him off again. This time his lips started to tremble when he spoke.
“No- uh- I just-” He began but his voice was cracking. M/N could sense he was on the verge of tears and gently caressed his face. “Okay, sweetie calm down. You’re alright” She whispered in a motherly tone.
Dean felt his bottom lip tremble again. He hasn’t been comforted like this since he was four. He leaned into the comfort of his future mother-in-law. His eyes fluttered closed as M/N’s fingers gently touched his skin, he could practically hear her say ‘You’re okay, baby’.
“I’m fine,” Dean assured her shakily, pulling away from her gently. A broad smile on his face as he cleared his throat, wiping his mouth. His eyes scanned the room, staring at the picture frames that were propped up all about. “Hey, when I was- when I was young, was there ever a fire here? Or at your house?” Dean asked them.
Both women shared a confused look, “No. Never” Mary told him as Dean walked around the room. He saw a few pictures of both their families.
Of him and Sam as kids with their parents, seemingly on vacation.
One of Sam and Y/N, they looked to be in their teens, smashing cake in each other’s faces.
Another of Sam and Y/N wearing a graduation cap and gown, both holding up high school diplomas, Dean wasn't in this picture.
And another of Dean and Y/N, he was wearing a light colored dress shirt, dark jeans. His arm wrapped around Y/N, grins spread across their faces as he wore her graduation cap. This time, Y/N was holding up her degree.
A few more were framed of Sam, Dean and Y/N going to prom. Looking almost exactly like the ones they took years ago.
There was another one of the trio sitting on a couch, their arms folded across their chests and Y/N was sitting in the middle of the boys. It reminded Dean of a picture Bobby made their take years ago as teenagers.
There were more of Y/N and her parents, along with some of all three kids when they were young and another unfamiliar little girl who looked quite similar to Y/N with F/N and M/N. Dean tilted his head in confusion but brushed it off.
Dean’s heart swelled as he looked at the pictures, “I guess I was wrong” Dean mumbled, his eyes widened when his eyes landed on a picture of F/N and John, wielding softball bats, “Dad and Mr. L/N are on a softball team” Dean gasped. He turned to Mary and M/N who seemed to be still confused before clearing his throat.
“Their softball team. That’s funny to me” He covered up his stammering as he took in the picture. The idea of either men on a softball team was wild to him. Mary’s eyes landed on the ground as a sympathetic look took over M/N’s face. “He loved that stupid team” Mary mumbled, M/N noticed her friend’s look of heartbreak and gently placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Dean’s face dropped, his eyes snapping back to his mother. “Dad’s dead?” Dean asked, both Mary and M/N tilted their head at him from his question. Dean quickly recuperated, “And the thing that killed him was a-” He tried to find out. “A stroke. He died in his sleep, you know that” M/N said, shaking her head at him as tears welled up in Mary’s eyes.
As much as hearing his father was dead hurt him, Dean was happy to hear that his father didn’t go out the way he originally, “And F/N?” He asked M/N hopefully, “Out of town, you know that, it’s why M/N is here” Mary said, furrowing her eyebrows at her son. Dean nodded sheepishly before saying, “That’s great”
“Excuse me?” Mary gasped, Dean’s eyes widened when he realized how his words must’ve sounded. “That- that’s great. That he went peacefully, I mean it- and F/N fine….it’s sure beats the alternative” He said softly, placing the photo back down. Mary and M/N shared a knowing look, “You’ve been drinking” Mary pointed out.
“No, I haven’t. Mom” Dean sighed, assuring her. M/N nodded, not wanting to press anymore. “I’m just gonna call Y/N and have her come pick you up, okay?” M/N said calmly, taking her hand off of Mary’s shoulder to pick up the landline. “Wait. No. No, don’t do-” Dean quickly stopped her, holding her hand gently to place the landline back down.
“Don’t do that. Don’t do that” He begged, taking a proper look at her. “I wanna stay here” Dean told them, their faces contorted in confusion again. “Why?” Mary asked. “Because. I-i- I miss the place” Dean sheepishly lied. Mary and M/N shared a look again, both confused at what the hell was going on.
“It’s okay. You two go to bed, okay?” Dean assured them, moving to sit on the couch as he continued to scan the place with his eyes. Mary walked over to her son, placing a gentle hand on his face. “Are you sure you’re alright?” She asked him, the maternal tone potent. Dean’s heart swelled, his eyes softening. “I think so” He croaked, holding back tears again.
“Okay” Mary said sweetly, placing a kiss on his forehead. Dean leaned into the touch and the kiss, still trying not to cry. Mary pulled away and gave her son a small smile, “We’ll be in our rooms if you need us. I love you” The mother told him. M/N nodded in agreement as she and Mary turned to slowly walk out of the room.
“Me too,” Dean said softly. “I’ll get you a blanket” M/N told him gently. “Thanks” Dean croaked out, his voice low as he heard their footsteps fade away. He let out a shaky breath as his head fell into his hands.
He let himself take in a moment to process everything. Seeing his mother and m/n alive again, seeing them full of light and life again. Hearing that his father passed peacefully. Knowing that F/N was alive and well himself. This was the life he always longed for. The life he always secretly wanted.
Dean exhaled another shaky breath. ‘You’re okay. They’re all okay’ He assured himself, wiping his mouth as a tear rolled down his cheek. But it didn’t feel right, that little voice at the back of his head was telling him that this is not what he thinks it is. Not what he wants it to be.
He looked up when he heard footsteps re-enter the room, his eyes landing on Y/N’s mom as she walked toward him with a blanket in her hands.
She stopped at the edge of the couch before she gently laid the blanket over him. Dean’s body tensed as he felt the fabric being pulled over his lap. A feeling he hasn’t experienced for a very long time. M/N seemed to notice his tenseness, her eyebrows slightly furrowing, “What’s wrong?” She gently asked.
“Nothing” Dean replied, his eyes not leaving the blanket that rested against his legs. “Just tired” He muttered, shifting his body so he laid down as he leaned against the pillows. M/N gave him a soft smile. “I know that” She said softly before leaning down and placing a kiss on his temple.
Dean melted at the feeling on his skin again, closing his eyes and relishing the comfort he got from this simple action. It’s a feeling he always craved but never got. M/N gently pushed his hair away and gave his cheek an affectionate pinch. “Get some rest, honey, okay?” The woman told him gently.
Dean opened his eyes and met M/N’s loving stare, fighting the urge to cry again. “I will” He mumbled, a lump in his throat slowly forming. M/N smiled and gave him one last pat to the cheek before she pulled away, turning on her heel to head down the hall to the guest room. leaving him alone in the living room.
The second she was gone, a soft “Fuck” escaped his lips as a tear rolled down his cheek again. Dean allowed himself to succumb to the comfort, his mind finally stopped racing, the darkness of a peaceful sleep taking him over.
-
The next morning, Dean woke up on the couch. He shot up from his position after his eyes fluttered open.
It was real? It wasn’t a dream? What the fuck is going on?
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he stared at the picture frames again, his heart still aching from the comfort he’d received. He shook his head. “No. Something’s not right” He whispered to himself, his eyes landing back on the picture of him and Y/N on prom night.
He did the only thing he could think to do in a moment like this. He called his little brother. Dean fished his phone out of his pocket, dialing in Sam’s number but it went to voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. I can’t come to the phone-” He shut his phone, taking a deep breath.
He had to figure out what the fuck was going on, what this djinn did to him, or gave him.
____________________________________________
“Well I don’t think I’ve seen you in my class before” The professor said to Dean, leaning back in his chair. Dean sat across from the professor in his office, immediately going to the Lawrence local college for any answers on this Djinn. “You kidding me? I love your lectures. You- you make learning fun” Dean chuckled, pointing to the teacher who chuckled in response.
“So, what can I do for you?” The Professor asked. “What can you tell me about djinns?” Dean asked, clasping his hands in front of him as he leaned into his chair.
-
Now infront of several books filled with lore, “Well, a lot of Muslims believe the djinn are very real. They’re me times in the Koran” The Professor explained, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, i know. Get to the wish part” Dean said impatiently. “What about it?” The professor furrowed his brows. “Do you think they could really do it?” Dean asked.
The professor looked baffled, “Uh…no. No, I don't think they can really do it. But, you understand that these are mythic creatures?” The Professor pointed out. “Yeah. No, I know, I know. But, uh, I mean, in the stories” Dean clarified. “You know, say you had a wish, uh-” He cleared his throat, gulping before continuing.
“-but you never even said it out loud. You know, like that- uh. Some loved ones never died or something awful never happened. Or…uh...the girl you love starts loving you back? Is it possible?” Dean asked, swallowing harshly. “Supposedly, yes” The Professor shrugged. “I mean, they have godlike power. They can Alter reality however they want. Past, present, future” The Professor explained.
“Why would the djinn do it?” Dean queried, leaning down to look at the books as the Professor eyed him suspiciously. “What, self defense? Or maybe it’s not really evil” Dean muttered, hoping that he could stay in this reality. This beautiful, dreamlike reality. “Son?” The Professor asked, concerned. “Hmm?” Dean hummed.
“You been drinking?” The Professor questioned, his brows raised. Dean had to stop himself from laughing, “Everybody keeps asking me that, but, uh, no” He assured him with a cheeky smile.
-
Dean was now outside the college, opening the trunk to the Impala. He snorted upon opening it when his eyes landed on a couple of old magazines and trash in the trunk. “Well, who would’ve thought, Baby? We’re civilians” He chuckled, shutting the trunk.
Dean felt as though someone was watching him, so he looked across the street to see a young girl, looking almost terrified yet calm, staring right back at him. Dean looked shocked and confused as to why this young girl kept her eyes trained on him. Assuming she could be in trouble, he began to approach her.
He moved to walk across the road without looking at both sides and almost got hit by a red pick up. The tired screeching on the road as the driver hit the brakes. The driver beeped their horn and yelled inaudible curses at him as he stood in the middle of the road.
“Ah, sorry” He apologized, holding up his hands apologetically before turning his eyes back to the little girl, only to see she was now gone. Nowhere in sight. Dean felt something off in his stomach as he walked away.
____________________________________________
Now back at the Winchester household, Dean greedily and contently ate a sandwich prepared by his mom. He leaned back in his chair and allowed himself to relish the feeling of a home cooked meal. One of Mary’s favorites to make him, a chicken salad sandwich with extra pickle. A loud moan of content left his throat.
“Mmm. This is the best sandwich ever!” He exclaimed, his mouth filled with food. Mary chuckled lightly from where she was at the sink. “Thank you. M/N made you a pie before she left for the airport to pick up F/N. I’ll get you some”
“Pie?” Dean mumbled, perking up at the mention of it. He hadn’t had M/N’s pie in years, the only person who could almost replicate her recipe was Y/N. And he loved her pie but nothing could compare to M/N’s pie. Mary hummed in response and disappeared into the other room for a short moment.
He waited anxiously in his seat, his eyes bouncing back towards the doorway every other second, waiting for the woman to reappear with the pie. “I tried to get ahold of Sam earlier. Where-? Where is he?” Dean asked through a mouth full of food as he chewed.
“Oh, he’ll be here soon. M/N is picking him up too” Mary replied, setting down a plate of warm apple pie in front of Dean. “Good. Thanks mom, I’m dying to see him” He replied, picking up a fork and dug into the pie immediately. A small hum of contentment escaped his throat.
His eyes fluttered shut, his lips curled into a smile, “Sweetie, uh, don’t get me wrong.” Mary began, sitting across from Dean at the dining table. “I am thrilled you’re hanging out here all of a sudden” Mary said softly, placing her hand on Dean's shoulder before gently brushing her son's face. A content smile spread across Dean’s face, his cheeks still stuffed with pie as she said this.
“But, uh, shouldn’t you be at work?” She asked. “Work?” Dean’s face dropped. “At the garage” Mary said as if it were obvious. “Right. The garage. That’s where I work.” Dean chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah. I’ve got. the day off” Dean said as he took another heaped forkful of pie into his mouth. “Mmm” He moaned as his mother chuckled.
“That’s good. The boss man deserves a day off with how hard you work” Mary said. “Bossman?” Dean mumbled again, confused. “Yeah” Mary chuckled. “The one you and F/N own after your dad left his shares to you in his will?” Mary stated as if he was supposed to know this. Which he was, but obviously, Dean was confused.
A nervous laugh escaped his throat as he tried to compose himself, attempting to act as normal as possible. Mary tilted her head when she saw his bewildered look again before continuing, “Are you sure you haven’t been drinking?” She questioned a second time, her hand still gently resting on her son's face.
A lump formed in his throat as he looked at her. A feeling welling up in his chest. “Yeah, I’m sure, mom” He mumbled, forcing a smile. Mary looked worried for her son, wondering if he started drinking frequently again. But she nodded before pulling away, not wanting to rile him up as his eyes landed on the lawn outside the window. Picking up his pie, Dean padded over to the window.
He leaned down to get a better look before saying, “That lawn looks like it could use some mowing” Dean said excitedly as he stuffed his piehole with…..pie. Mary looked surprised at this, “You wanna mow the lawn?” She asked, amused. “Are you kidding me? I’d love to mow the lawn” Dean said enthusiastically like a kid on Christmas.
“Knock yourself out. I think you’d never mowed a lawn in your life” She snorted, sipping her coffee. Dean shrugged at her words but ignored them, he was just so excited to mow a lawn. The domestication of it all was heartwarming for him.
-
Dean reeled the chain back of the lawn mower, happily pushing the machine around the grass. He struggled a bit but quickly got the hang of it. He noticed a neighbor across the street throwing out trash, so he happily waved to the man, who awkwardly waved back at him.
Dean didn’t think too much of it, instead. He continued mowing the lawn.
-
After finishing up the yard work, Dean sat contently, relaxing on the steps to the porch of his mom’s house. A beer in his hand, He took a swig, “Ahhh” he breathed out. He let his head roll back, his eyes fluttered shut as he took in a deep breath, letting his eyes travel back to the lawn, the sweat on his forehead glistening as it hit the setting sunlight.
His thoughts got interrupted by the sound of a car pulling up, his eyes darted back towards the driveway. His eyes widened when he saw a car pull into the driveway, someone he believed to have been gone appeared. “I don’t believe it” Dean gasped as M/N pulled up with Jessica, Sam, and F/N. Jessica was alive and well.
Dean instantly pulled Jess into a tight hug, grunting as the college student gasped. “Jessica,” Dean said with relief. “Good to see you too, Dean” Jessica chuckled awkwardly, wiggling in his tight grip. “You’re okay” Dean mumbled in her hair. “Dean. Can’t breathe” Jessica groaned, causing Dean to finally let go.
Sam looked a bit confused at his brother, who now had a huge smile on his face, which was pretty rare when it came to him. Dean’s eyes landed on Y/N’s father, who was helping Sam unload the trunk. An almost tearstrucken expression was on Dean’s face, “F/N” Dean pulled him into a bone crushing hug as M/N smiled at the affection Dean displayed.
The two never had that since they were always at each other’s throats, oppositely contrasting real life. F/N’s eyes widened in disbelief and surprise at the hug. He instantly brushed him off, leading Dean to be confused. “It’s Mr. L/N to you, son,” He said sternly.
Dean’s smile faded as he looked at Y/N’s dad, slightly shocked. He took a step back, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle as he muttered an apology, “Right. Sorry, Mr. L/N” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, shooting a glance at Sam who shrugged in response.
M/N’s smile dropped at his rude response, she smacked her husband on his arm roughly. “Be nice!” She chastised him as Sam and Jessica shared an amused look. F/N winced and rubbed his arm where his wife smacked him before he let out a laugh, “Hey! I was nice” He protested. The corners of Dean’s mouth curled into a smile as he shoved his free hand in his pocket.
M/N rolled her eyes in response at her husband’s usual stern behavior to Dean before turning to him. “Tell your mom we’ll be right over, honey. We’re just gonna put his stuff away” M/N said gently to Dean, pointing to their house across the street before patting his cheek.
“Of course” Dean smiled, running a hand through his short cut hair. “See y’all in a minute” He called over his shoulder, watching as the married couple walked across the street with the luggage. M/N was firmly pointing at her husband for being rude while he said lowly, “What’d I do? I was nice” F/N protested.
But M/N wasn’t having any of it, “You were rude, and you know you were. You’re always like this with the boy” M/N said, shaking her head at her husband. Dean’s brows furrowed, confused as to why Y/N’s father seemed to not like him. But he brushed it off, shaking the thought.
“Sammy, look at you!” Dean then turned to his little brother, patting him on his shoulder. “You’re with Jessica, that's- I don’t believe it” Dean chuckled as Sam smiled. “Yeah” Sam said a little awkwardly. “Where'd you guys come from?” Dean asked the crew. “We just flew in from California” Sam Said as if Dean was supposed to know that.
“California! Stanford, huh? Law school, I bet” Dean exclaimed excitedly. Sam slightly scoffed at his enthusiasm, “I see you started off Mom’s birthday with a bang, as usual” Sam said with a bit of judgment, gesturing to his beer. Dean blinked twice, “Wait, Mom’s birthday. That’s- That’s today?” Dean stuttered.
Sam raised his brows at his brother, “Yeah. Yeah, Dean. That’s today. That’s why we’re here. Don’t tell me you forgot” Sam shook his head at him in disapproval. Dean gulped slightly, feeling guilty for not knowing, even though there was no way he could’ve even known.
____________________________________________
Later that night, the Winchester’s and L/N’s were dining at quite an exquisite restaurant for Mary’s birthday. The table was filled with chatter and laughter, “Wow, that- that looks awesome” Dean said sarcastically with a grimace as the waiter set down his food, which was practically asparagus on a stick. The table erupted in laughter as Y/N gently placed her hand on her fiancé’s thigh.
“Alright. To Mom, Happy Birthday” Sam put up his wine in a toast, “Happy Birthday” Y/N and Jess both said to her as everyone raised their glasses. Mary smiled happily, letting the warm feeling spread through her chest as she thanked her family. Jessica then leaned over to place a kiss on Sam’s lips.
Dean looked at the pair with awe, a warm feeling in his chest, he was beyond relieved to see his little brother happy. Though, he did wonder about Jo. But he put two and two together in his head, realizing that they met Jo on a hunt. So since they have a normal life, they never met.
“I was really worried about you last night” Y/N said softly to him, causing Dean to break his gaze away from the couple. “Oh, I’m- I’m good. I’m really good” Dean assured her, his heart skipping a beat at the feeling of her hand gently caressing his thigh. “Okay” Y/N nodded, though she didn’t believe him, but she decided not to push.
Her eyes flickered down to Dean’s very unappetizing looking food, a coy smile on her face. “Why don’t you say later we get you a cheeseburger and we can watch American Pie on Blu-Ray” Y/N said in a suggestive tone. “Oh God, yes” Dean almost moaned at the thought, causing Y/N to snort in response as lightly bit her lip.
Cheeseburgers and American Pie were code for “food and sex” when it comes to them. But Dean didn’t know that yet.
“How did I end up with such an amazing woman” Dean said with awe. A smile spread across Y/N features as she gently squeezed her fiancé’s thigh. “I’ve just got low standards” She joked. Dean snorted as He looked at her lovingly, a small smile on his face as his eyes roamed her features.
“What?” Y/N asked suddenly as she caught Dean studying her. He shook his head in response as he said softly, “Nothing. Just admiring you, as always” Y/N’s eyes softened at his response before leaning over to place a small gentle kiss on his lips.
F/N narrowed his eyes at his daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law, but said nothing as he glanced over at the young couple, shaking his head slightly as he took a sip of his wine. His wife shot him another stern look, firmly pointing her finger at her husband in a manner that said, ‘Behave’. F/N sighed deeply, giving an almost bored look at his wife before turning back to his food, a grumpy look on his face.
Sam cleared his throat, “Alright, Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom’s birthday” Sam began before turning to Jess. “Uh, you wanna tell them?” He asked her. “They’re your family” Jess said shyly, “What? Tell me what?” Mary asked curiously, Sam then lifted Jess’ hand to display her engagement ring.
Dean’s jaw dropped as gasps were heard around the table. “Sam!” He exclaimed, his eyes moving from Jess’ hand to his little brother, shock still written on his features. Y/N placed her hand over her mouth, excitement radiating off of her as Mary and M/N clapped their hands together, a huge smile on their face, “Oh, my God! You’re getting married!” Mary cried, bringing a hand up to her lips.
The older woman instantly got up along with M/N And Y/N. “That’s so wonderful!” Mary exclaimed as she pulled Jess into a hug. “Thank you” Jess smiled as Mary let go. “Congratulations, honey” M/N Said as she hugged the young girl. “Thank you, Mrs. L/N” Jess giggled before turning to Y/N after her mom let her go.
Y/N pulled her into a tight hug as she exclaimed, “We’re both gonna be Winchesters!” A smile spread across Jess’ features as she pulled away, “I know. I’m so excited!” Jess gushed. Y/N pulled back and held Jess’ hands in hers. “Let me see that ring,” She said expectantly.
Jess giggled as she held her hand out before Y/N gently took it, admiring the ring. “It’s so beautiful” Y/N commented, letting go of Jess’s hand and turning to Sam. She gave him a quick thumbs up as Dean got up to give Jess a tight bear hug, lifting her up slightly from the floor as Mary hugged Sam. “I just wish your dad was here” Mary said to her younger son.
“Yeah, me too” Sam said softly to his mother, hugging her tighter before pulling away. Dean then moved to shake his little brother's hand, “Congratulations, Sammy” Dean said sincerely as Sam eyed him weirdly at the term ‘Sammy’. “Thanks,” Sam said gratefully, “I’m really glad you’re happy. Even if it’s not with Jo, I know you loved Jess” Dean’s words spewed out of his mouth without thinking.
Sam raised his eyes at his brother, confusion written on his face, "What are you talking about?” He questioned, "Who’s Jo?" Dean’s mouth slightly went agape when he realized what he said but he didn’t get a chance to clear up his words, due to the girl from earlier that day appearing at the corner of the restaurant.
Dean’s eyes wide fed as he pushed past his brother, immediately rushing over to the girl. He brushed past a few people, his eyes leaving the young girl for a split second, only for her to disappear again, gone into thin air.
Everyone at the table looked at Dean with confusion as he turnt back to them gulping, F/N especially with a look of disapproval aimed in his direction as he crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.
____________________________________________
The two families were laughing and chattering as they reentered the Winchester residence. “So, Dean, what was all that back at the restaurant?” Sam asked his brother as they walked into the living room, all the ladies were talking amongst themselves as he said. “Oh, I thought I saw someone. I’m sure its nothing” Dean assured him.
“Well, I had a lovely birthday. Thank you” Mary said sincerely to everyone. “Goodnight” Everyone Said in unison as Jess And Y/N blew kisses to their future mother-in-law. Mary smiled as she started to rub her eyes. “Goodnight” She said, blowing kisses to everyone before wrapping her arms around M/N, drawing her in for a tight hug.
“Thank you for baking the cake, it was delicious” Mary said to her best friend with much gratitude. “It was my pleasure as always, Mar” M/N squeezed her back before letting go, moving back to cling to her husband as Mary walked up the stairs. A little yawn left her lips. “I think you and I should hit the hay” F/N chuckled, gently wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist, letting her lean against him.
“Agreed” M/N said, a small smile on her face before turning to her daughter. “Goodnight, baby” M/N said softly. “Goodnight, Mom.” Y/N said as she leaned in to hug her mom, a smile on her face. She then plastered on a fake smile towards her father before awkwardly hugging him.
“Have a great night everyone, love you y/n/n” F/N said to his daughter gently, a bit of despair in his eyes. “You too, daddy” Y/N responded half heartedly. Her dad sighed before shooting Dean one last glare. He then opened his door for his wife, before walking out behind her and shutting the door behind him as Dean smiled awkwardly.
“Yeah, well. I’m beat” Sam said tiredly, “Ready to turn in?” He asked Jess. “Sure” Jess nodded. “Alright, night guys” Sam smiled at everyone, “Goodnight” Y/N muttered But Dean’s face dropped. “Hey, hey. Wait a second, wait a second. Come on, it’s not even 9 o'clock yet.” Dean protested. “Let’s, uh, let’s go have a drink or something” Dean suggested.
Y/N shrugged in agreement, not minding the idea of hanging out with everyone. “Maybe another time,” Sam said, a little irritated. “Come on, man. Look at us. I mean, we both have beautiful women on our arms. We’re both engaged. Let’s go celebrate!” Dean chuckled, smacking Sam on his chest lightly.
A silence fell in the room due to the way Sam was looking at Dean, “Guys, can you excuse us. I just wanna talk to my brother” Sam said to the ladies politely. “Sure. Come on, Y/N” Jess shrugged, gesturing for both her and Y/N to leave. “Thanks,” Sam smiled but Y/N narrowed her eyes at Sam.
“Don’t start, Samuel” She whispered in a warning tone before following Jessica out of the kitchen. Sam raised his hands in defense, “Won’t do anything” He assured her as she, as well as Jess, left the room. Y/N him one last pointed look over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.
Sam turned to his brother, an irritated look on his face. “Okay, what’s gotten into you?” He questioned. “What? What do you mean?” Dean asked, confused. “I mean, this whole…warm fuzzy ecstasy-trip thing” Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean. “I’m just happy for you, Sammy,” Dean smiled, patting his brother on his arm. Sam rolled his eyes with a tight smile.
“Yeah. Right. That’s another thing. Since when do you call me Sammy?” Sam scoffed. Dean's brows furrowed, his heart dropping. “Dean, come on. We don’t talk outside of holidays” Sam pointed out. Dean blinked twice in shock, “We don’t?” He asked surprised. “Well, we should. I mean, you’re my brother” Dean chuckled, trying to ignore the tugging pain in his chest.
“You’re my brother?” Sam huffed, shaking his head. “Yeah,” Dean smiled. “You know, that's what you said when you snagged my ATM card. Or when you crashed my car. Or when you bailed on me and Y/N’s high school graduation.” Sam pointed out his multiple mistakes as Dean’s mouth went agape again. “Yeah, that kinda does sound like me,” Dean admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Well, hey man, I’m sorry about all that-” Dean tried to apologize, stepping closer to Sam but he cut him off and stepped away. “No. Look. It’s alright. I just— you know, I’m not asking you to change. I just, uh….I don’t know. I guess we just don’t really have anything in common. You know?” Sam said, shrugging. Dean felt his heart drop in his chest again.
A lump grew in his throat as Sam moved to walk away. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Yes, we do. Yes, we do” Dean stammered, pulling Sam back. “What?” Sam raised his brows. “Hunting” Dean took a chance. “Hunting? I’ve never been hunting in my life, Dean” Sam scoffed. Dean swallowed harshly, his heart caught in his throat,
“Yeah, well, we should go sometime. Me, you and Y/N. I think you guys would be great at it” Dean said sadly, this made Sam even more confused. “Y/N? We've barely talked since high school since you two hooked up on our prom night” Sam snorted.
Dean’s heart felt like it had been stabbed as Sam’s words sank in. “What? You guys don’t talk?” He asked in disbelief. Sam shook his head, burying his hands in his pockets as he looked at his brother, still confused. “Why not?” Dean asked genuinely, feeling another pang of pain in his chest, he was trying to wrap his head around all the things that had been said tonight.
He thought that he and Y/N were the best of friends, hell, they were practically siblings, so why would they not talk?
“People just…drift” Sam shrugged, eyeing his brother weirdly. “That fucking sucks, you two were like ring on finger” Dean gaped, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, people change,” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. A silence fell between them as Dean took in the newly found information, “Get some rest” Sam said softly to his brother before leaving the room. The shock still evident on Dean’s face.
____________________________________________
It was later that night, Dean and Y/N were back at their own house while Dean sat on the couch in the living room. His mind was racing and stuck on that dreadful conversation he had with Sam. His heart was caught in his throat, a sick feeling churning in his stomach at the fact that he and his brother were not close and neither was his brother and the love of his life.
Y/N noticed Dean was a bit in his head as she entered the living room, a sigh escaped her lips as she padded over to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and took out two beers, she then popped the bottle cap open with a silver ring on her right hand. She then headed back into the living room, offering her fiancé the beer.
Dean’s eyes snapped over to her, his expression softening. “My favorite. I guess you know me pretty well” Dean said softly as he accepted the beer, “Afraid so” Ashe teased, plopping on the couch next to him. “You alright, baby?” Y/N asked gently.
Dean gave her a thin smile before bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a sip of the beverage. The conversation with his brother had really been bugging him. How could they have not been talking? When did they stop talking? And when did Sam and Y/N stop being friends?
“Sammy and I don’t get along. And you guys stopped talking” Dean said, glancing down at the bottle in his hands as Y/N sipped from her own bottle. “Well, you don't really spend a lot of time together and me and Sam sorta just…drifted. It happens, people change. I mean, I just think you dont know each other all that well” Y/N said gently, a small frown on my face.
“And for the record, he doesn't know what he's missing” She added, offering Dean a smile, which he returned. “I could fix things with us. I can make it up to you guys….to everyone” Dean said confidently, nodding. Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion. “Okay…what's gotten into you lately?” She asked with a small chuckle.
“This isnt gonna make a lick of sense to you, princess. But I kinda feel like I've been given a second chance. And I don’t wanna waste it” Dean said wholeheartedly as he stared at Y/N lovingly. Calling her ‘princess’ felt wrong here to him but he didn’t care, he wanted it to be real so bad. “You're right, it doesn't make any sense. But I’m all in” Y/N chuckled.
Dean grinned at her words as he placed a gentle hand on Y/N's thigh "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are," he said softly, his emerald eyes filled with tenderness. Y/N smiled shyly, a light blush spreading across her cheeks, “You only say that every hour” She teased, taking another sip of her beer. “Not that I’m complaining, it gives me an ego boost” She joked.
Dean chuckled along with Y/N, the sound of her laughter music to his ears. The thought that had crossed his mind earlier in the day resurfaced, prompting him to ask her a question. “Hey, princess,” he began. Y/N looked at him expectantly, curious about what he was going to say. “I gotta ask…why does your dad hate me?” Dean asked, tilting his head a bit.
Y/N let out a sigh, a slight frown on her face as she recalled the strained relationship between her father and fiancé. "It's complicated, babe. My dad's just a bit of a control freak, especially when it comes to me" She explained with a hint of frustration.
Dean looked confused, he was used to F/N being controlling in reality but the man never seemed to hate him before. If anything, he adored Dean. So F/N hating Dean right now was foreign to him. “You know, since that night..” Y/N said lowly, Dean was even more confused now.
"Since what night?" Dean asked, a frown forming on his face as he tried to decipher why F/N’s behavior had drastically changed towards him. Y/N took a deep breath before answering, the memory still a bit raw. “Don’t you remember the night of my prom?” She asked. "Well…not exactly" Dean admitted, trying to recall the event, only to come up blank.
Y/N gave him an incredulous look, “You don't remember?” She asked in surprise, her tone almost sounding hurt. Dean’s heart sank at Y/N’s reaction, he hated the thought that he’d done something to hurt her, but he genuinely had no memory of what took place on prom night, at least in this world.
"Look, I'm sorry, princess," Dean began, moving closer to Y/N and taking her hand in his. "I seriously can't remember a thing about that night. Can you tell me what happened?" He asked gently. “We lost our virginities to each other and Dad caught us a couple weeks later hooking up at a motel, how could you not remember that?”
A mixture of realization and shock washed over Dean as Y/N's words sank in. It all made sense now why her father hated him with a fiery passion. “And then he kicked me out the same night when he said he didn’t approve of our relationship” Y/N further explained, caressing Dean’s hand with her thumb.
"Jesus... no wonder he hates me" Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. It all made perfect sense now. But the memory of that night was still a complete blank for him.
"I personally don’t think that's why he doesn’t like you. I think it's because you proved him wrong” Y/N assured Dean. Dean furrowed his brows, puzzled by Y/N's statement. "Proved him wrong? What do you mean?” he asked, genuinely curious as he rest his beer down on the table. “Jesus, charming. What’s going on with your memory?” Y/N chuckled.
Dean cracked a small sheepish grin, realizing how dense he sounded. "Right, sorry. Go on" he chuckled, giving her hand a squeeze. “After he cut me off from my trust fund and John cut you off from yours. You worked your ass off and put me through college. Dad never thought you had it in you, but I knew you did. He has not choice but to respect you, but Dad being Dad is too prideful to admit it”
Dean’s expression softened as Y/N recounted their history. After what Sam told him, it messed with his head. Realizing he was practically the family fuck-up, the black sheep…it hurt him to say the least. But now knowing that Y/N stood beside him through all he had supposedly done and he did whatever it took to support the love of his life despite getting completely cut off, Dean felt a sense of pride and accomplishment in himself.
He felt like he was worth something, because everyone including God himself knows how Dean Winchester thinks of himself. A proud smile tugged at his lips, his loving gaze never leaving Y/N’s face.
"I'll do whatever it takes” Dean said tenderly, squeezing her hand again. She giggled lightly at this, resting her own beer down besides his, “I know you will, and that's one of the many reasons why I love you” Y/N said softly as she brought her hand up to cup Dean’s cheek, he automatically leaned into her touch, nuzzling into her hand like a kitten.
“And I love you too, more than anything" he replied tenderly, placing a soft kiss on her palm. “Besides, Adrienne was always his golden child” Y/N said with a bitter tone and a scoff as she pulled away. Dean furrowed his brows, confused by the new name she had mentioned. "Who's Adrienne?" he asked quizzically, his curiosity piqued.
“My little sister.” Y/N said as if Dean was supposed to know that, rolling her eyes. His eyes widened in surprise. Y/N had a little sister??? His mind then went back to the little girl in the pictures at his mom’s house, that must've been Adrienne.
“The one who tried to sleep with you last time she was in town” Y/N added bitterly. "It's always been ‘Adrienne this, Adrienne that’ “ she imitated her father's voice. Dean's smile dropped as he processed Y/N's words.
He couldn't recall the interaction with her sister or any prior mention of her, but the idea of anyone trying to come between them made him feel rather possessive.
"She tried to what?! ” Dean exclaimed, a hint of anger in his tone. "Relax, baby” Y/N chuckled as she placed a soothing hand on his chest. "You shut her down pretty quick, if I recall. You drunkenly said I was ‘the one’ and then proceeded to scream your lungs out at her, I think I’m safe” she replied, amused by his reaction.
“It's why you put a ring on it” Y/N teased, gesturing to her engagement ring, admiring it in her hand. Dean smirked as he watched Y/N admiring the ring on her finger. "I knew it would look good on you" he said with a hint of admiration in his voice. Seeing her wear the physical symbol of their commitment filled him with a sense of contentment and belonging.
“I’ll never forget you kneeling down in that stadium while Bon Jovi was playing ‘All About Lovin’ You’ and you asking me to marry you.” Y/N reminisced, resting her head on Dean’s shoulder. A warm smile played on Dean's lips as Y/N recounted the proposal. Even without his memory of it, he could tell it must’ve been special.
The fact that he had chosen such a romantic setting because he was never a huge Bon Jovi fan but Y/N loved the band’s music. The fact that he chose something so close to her heart filled him with a sense of satisfaction. "That sounds like a pretty perfect moment" he said, a hint of longing in his voice.
"You were so nervous" Y/N chuckled. "You kept shaking your hands and your leg kept bouncing up and down," she added, recalling the proposal with a fond look. Dean shook his head with a mock frown, "Shut up" he muttered playfully. “You know….I get it” Dean said softly, tracing circles on her hip with his thumb.
Y/N hummed in response, enjoying the feeling of his touch on her skin. "Get what?" she asked curiously, lifting her head from his shoulder to look at him. “Why you’re the one,” Dean responded, connecting his eyes with hers, this gaze filled with love and admiration. Y/N felt a warm sensation in her chest as she returned his gaze, his eyes so full of love and tenderness. "Oh, really?” she asked, teasing him a bit.
Dean grinned as he nodded, attaching his lips to hers. Y/N let out a small gasp of surprise, which soon melted into a soft moan as she returned the kiss eagerly. The way he took charge sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine, her heart hammering in her chest.
Dean's hand on her hip began to wander, gently caressing her body through the thin fabric of her clothing. His other hand moved to cup her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. There was a voice at the back of his mind that was screaming at him to stop, telling him this wasn’t right as Y/N straddled him.
Dean's mind waged a war with itself, her presence in his lap both tantalizing and guilt-inducing. He wanted her, craved her, and yet he couldn't shake the nagging thoughts that told him it was wrong, Dean couldn’t bring himself to do it just yet.
He pulled back from the kiss, panting lightly as he looked up at Y/N. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen and parted in a gasp. "We gotta stop,” he said quietly, his voice filled with both desire and restraint. Dean brought his lips to her neck, “Mhhmm” Y/N panted, groaning slightly as she rocked her core against his growing erection.
Dean stifled a moan as she rocked against him, his hands on her hips gripping just a bit tighter. "We gotta stop..” he repeated, though his body was clearly at odds with his words. “I know, I know, i've got work” Y/N sighed, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
Dean returned the kiss, his fingers moving to run through her hair, the silky strands slipping through his fingers. "You gotta work now?” he asked, his voice thick with desire but also confusion because it was nearly midnight. “I told you, I’ve got the night shifts on Thursday” Y/N responded as she reluctantly peeled herself away from him and headed over to the closet.
Dean’s brows furrowed as he picked up his beer from the table and followed behind her, “You work nights at the uh…” He began as he stepped into the closet to see Y/N with a hanger in her hand, nurse scrubs attached to them, “…hospital.” He finished, an impressed grin on his face. “I’m engaged to a nurse. That is so respectable….and hot” Dean muttered to himself as he eyed Y/N’s ass while taking a sip of his beer.
He wondered to himself why Y/N decided to go into nursing due to the fact she always had a love for music, but Dean shrugged it off.
______________________________________________
Authors Note: Okay soooo, Tumblr told me that my post was too long so I had to split this into two parts.
Part Two Here!
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Orca with 4 birds :) I hate drawing backgrounds if that wasn't obvious lol. I also like how chunky his tail looks here lol. (idk what type of birds those are, I just drew random ones, u can tell I also never draw birds lol)
A bit of context: Since Orca has a soft spot for animals, I imagine most animals (even wild ones) tend to get along with him. Most of the time this is mainly birds bothering him, landing on his horns or tail, or trying to build nests in the fur of the coat.
Orca belongs to me Cross/Crossfell belong to Jakei95
#monoart#monos art#art#digital#digital art#undertale au#sans au#undertale sans au#underverse#Orca#Cross#Crossfell#Fellcross#Cross sans#Cross!sans#xtale!cross#xtale cross#xtale sans#utau#utmv#Memento Cadre#utoc#utmv fandom#utmv sans#utmv au
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Btw the way John B was narrating JJ’s death 100% makes me believe that the whole show and his narrations is about him telling the story to his kid/kids and the show will end with John B’s voice being like “and that is the story of the Pogues” on a black background and then cut to a time jump where he’s like putting the kids to bed.
What was the point of him talking to US about JJ in the past like we haven’t met him. He talked about JJ like he did for Big John, to someone who never met them.
It literally destroys my soul thinking that John B’s kids will never know JJ and he will only be in his stories.
I hate everything about this and I can’t stop thinking about it, EVEN AFTER DEATH JJ ONLY HAS LOSSES.
I can’t believe this is what they did to JJ after so much sufferance endind in tragedy 💔
#outer banks#obx#jj maybank#obx netflix#obx4#jiara#obx s4#outer banks netflix#rudy pankow#john b routledge#the pogues#obx pogues
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Astarion was not a "corrupt" magistrate.
Hello again. Just more opinion about my favorite battle buddy. Warning, trigger words in use. Game spoilers.
It's not quite set in stone that Astarion really was a magistrate, but we are going to go with the idea he was for this thought pocket. Also this is just game as it is now info use.
I don't believe he was corrupt magistrate. There were a few things in the game that called that out, but one in particular really set it in stone for me.
His response to the Ansur lair puzzle regarding justice.
Astarion: “Mercy?! Please. Justice should be a harsh lesson. All the better to deter the next vagabond.”
This makes me think he was a bit of a hard ass as a magistrate, but not corrupt. Had he been dealing dirty in the background I really feel like this answer would have been more dismissive or flippant. But he is pretty intent that this is his stance. Very, iv said this a thousand times, type feel.
I think, he was more of a by the book, law is law type. You murder and rape you swing from the gallows. You steal from a shop keeper, you do time. Period.
My theory is, he got beat up because he wasn't lenient with a member of the Gur that was on trial.
"Leniency?! You have been found guilty of negligence resulting in the death of a innocent! You are owed nothing!"
Could you hear it?
"But he talks about being hedonistic and indulgent all the time. "
Yes, but most patriar level citizens were spoiled entitled brats that did what they desired. Have you talked to some of them in the upper city? Yeeesh.
Was he arrogant? Most likely. Prejudice? Obviously (insert gnomes here). But being a haughty jerk does not make one evil.
Sex, nudity, orgies, parties, over indulging etc are not taboo in Faerun. If everybody is consenting to be being naked in a fountain, hopefully in a private villa garden, its not a crime. He talks about that like its a memory, but I like to think his wine drunk giggly ass was actually in that fountain.
If you want to have a little rabbit hole fun, break down the name. Faerun = Fae Run = Run by the Fae. And last I checked, fairies were always down for some naked in the water time. I mean, come on, you can go to pound town with a bear. (No offence, Halsin.) You think they are going to draw the line at how may wieners you can have in the same pot? I think not.
I think the criminal behavior came after he was turned. Cazador may have been targeting him, but not because they were involved. But maybe due to him looking like his old master Vellioth? And he took advantage of a situation. Who knows, lots of ideas there.
"But he's always getting onto Tav for doing the "right" thing."
Yup, Tav is being too trusting and getting too involved with other peoples problems. Why is this an issue for Astarion? Kindness was what got him entombed for a year. He cared about that sweet mans life and was severally punished for it. Its akin to being mauled by a dog and then watching people just reach out a pet every one they see. The anxiety of that attack is still there and it paints every encounter with its opinion. Danger.
"He's not smart enough."
Oh I bet he is. You can be whip smart at a subject and socially akward at the same time. I'm very good at my job. I know it inside and out and can give you any detail, rule, configuration at the drop of a hat in the most professional and proficient way possible. But ask me to be eloquent in a social situation? HA! You are better off asking a rock to fart. Unrelated.
"But he wants to ascend, and that's evil."
That is more about who is is after years of torment and abuse. Not before.
I think the rogue role was adopted to stay alive while hunting. And what a gods awful fate to be turned into the thing you hated the most. A criminal.
I'm sure Caz was real tickled by that. Expletive Adjective.
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So, I saw the question about tips for aspiring comic artists and it actually reminded me that I am curious about the topic as well😅
I like to write stories and I like to draw so it seemed logically for me to try my hand at comics as well but I'm struggling extremely with the layout.
It's seems very daunting when you sit in front of the empty page and you have to consider how to arrange the panels.
I'm the kind of artist that sometimes does big changes to almost finished works, so the idea of having to make a final decision before I even start with the actual drawing process, is kind of terrifying for me.
Long story short, how do you put your drawings into panels?
Do you really have to make a final panel layout at the beginning, the way I've been attempting to, or are there other possibilities I simply haven't thought of?
Last but not least, I want you to know that I absolutely love your comic, both because of your spectacular art and the amazing story! ❤️
Hello! Okay this is going to be long but I'll try my best to explain and be concise (and truly sorry for the english!) So, the first rule you need to have in mind is that you don't imagine the scene PER PAGE but PER SEQUENCE. What I mean is, you don't have to imagine a comic (like ''what I'm putting in this page'') but you have to imagine it as a video in your head, like you're directing a movie ( movies and comics are a lot more similar than we think as a media) For example, try to imagine someone waking up and going to open their window, that's a full sequence. it can be done in various ways, depending on what your character is doing and what's the ''mood'' of the scene. Remember always that your character emotions sets the mood for the entire scene. A thing that helps me a lot is ( like I said XD) watching movies, I focus on the mini sequences, a kiss scene, a fight, I pause the movie and rewatch that scenes various times, trying to understand the mood of the scene and how is shot. A sequence can even take 3 or 4 pages or even 10, it depends from whats happening, even more if it's a fight! But like I said the number of pages comes later. another importart thing to remember is that your characters needs ''a place to live'' If you make a story and never show a single panel with a background, the story is gonna lack something 100%; and I know... backgrounds are hard (I hate them) but you need at least 1 panel where you show the places your characters are living in. That is called establishing shot and it needs to be used when your character are moving to other locations. (or if you're talking about other characters in your comic and they are somewhere else) I'll show u some establishing shots now:
Took 3 different comics (narratively and stylistic speaking) Bone, Batman and TinTin to show you that even if the setting of the panels is extremely different, they still all have an establishing shot. Now, of course you don't have to put this in EVERY page, but like I said at least at the start of your comic, or when the characters are moving somewhere else, it's very important to show that. Also remember that the biggest panel you need to have in your sequence is the one where the most important action is happening. For example, if two people are fighting and someone gets slapped, that's the most impactful scene, so that's the scene that will need the biggest panel on your sequence, because it's the most important. Another rule is to make the camera breathe. Let me explain this properly, you, as a comic artist, are like a movie director with a camera. You need to turn the camera in various ways, up and down left and right, but always remember this : Never make a page of faces only. example, here are character A and B having a conversation, a page like this is extremely wrong, because the camera is basically attached to the character face and the viewer/reader is going to feel like they're suffocating in the room with the story characters :
You as an artist have the power to zoom the camera in and out, showing extremely tiny details or making a big panel that shows how Idk... beautiful or eerie or mysterious the background is. The biggest advice I can give you is to read a lot of comics, try to find series you love and study them, see how they make the panels, how the sequence are shown etc. The last rule (there are a lot more so if you have more specific questions just ask) I can give you and this is about your question in specific is that: Yes. Unfortunately you have to make the structure first and that has to be your final decision, if you make a 10 pages comic for example and you decide you don't like some stuff anymore and decide to change all the pages, you're just gonna end up in a endless cycle of always fixing and fixing and never be satisfied. Remeber this: The sketches and layout of the pages are the MOST important thing in a comic. The coloring, lineart, etc... it's just decoration. So hang on and start making layouts, and focus only on those for a period of time and then when you're 100% satisfied with the structure, you go and start adding the ''decorations'' Hope this helps! I'm not very good at explaining , especially in another language, but I tried my best XD
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COLD IMPULSES | pjs
pairing : bsf!jay x afab!reader
warnings : kissing, making out, slightly suggestive, angst if you squint, reader uses Jay as a rebound (almost), winter themes, use of nicknames, Jay is slightly (evidently) obsessed with the reader, wordy.
wordcount : 2.1k+
mdni
note : I really don't know what this is. I wanted to write this into a full length fic but lost motivation half way. Kinda want to come back to bsfjay one day tho.
Jay had never seen you cry.
At least not break down in public, sniffing and glaring at a couple with a tear filled hateful gaze burning into their backs. He had never seen you this startled, this sad. It almost broke his own heart seeing you bring your fingers up to wipe your tear stained cheeks as you stood in the middle of a snow laden road hopeless and bleak.
Jay could feel his skin heat up, the rage made the December cold leave his body. Oh how he wanted to walk up to that two timing bastard and punch him in the face, it would make such a fun late Christmas present. But he won't, he couldn't. He couldn't let the anger take over him when a whole lot of their friends clearly surrounded them. He couldn't cause a stir, especially not on the night of the new years eve. This had to wait another day. A new years gift sounded better anyway.
Jay felt his mood grow sour at the sight of the familiar couple. They stood amidst the crowd, unaware of a glaring set of eyes- your eyes.
He remembers the day you'd called him up in the middle of night- nervous and ecstatic, and told him through a series of excited laughter and uneven pants how you had finally found the right guy after a string of doomed relationships. He remembers feigning happiness, remembers saying- with a strained voice, how happy he was for you.
He should've trusted the pang of anxiety that thrummed in his chest the minute you'd told him who the guy was. Sim Jaeyun.
Jay had never let jealousy taint his friendships but that night he'd hung up with a hollow feeling haunting him. The feeling only intensified from that day on. Each meeting, every text, all the parties he'd see Jake pulling a giggling you out of, left him gnawing at any and all possible ways to fill the gaping hole in his chest. So he did what he could to fade you into the background. Jumping back and forth between girls on a daily was one of the options but none of them could quite fill the hole in his chest because, after all, it was shaped like you.
So when you came stumbling through the joyous crowd, eyes downcast, he did what he could to make you feel better. His heart almost gave out at the sight of you. At the sight of your flushed skin and glistening eyes.
Jay knew he had to quiet down the loud thoughts of you and be present.
At the sight of a familiar face, you drove in, your body crashing into Jay. A sob broke out of you at the feeling of warmth seeping into your trembling limbs.
“Hey” Jay's voice is soft, “I'm so sorry”, it sends rumbles through your shivering body. He holds you until you stop shaking, his arms fastened around your waist, his body pressed against yours. But you cry until his sweater is soaked through and until you feel like you've let your anguish out.
Minutes later when you feel his fingers thread into your hair- it's light and soothing, you breathe normally again.
“I thought-” you sniff looking up at him, “he liked me Jay” Your voice trembles and Jay feels his anger bubbling, threatening to spill.
“So many late nights” Jay feels your fingers wrap around his biceps as you move away and steady yourself.
You feel him take your hand off his arm and into his own, “I know angel”, soon he is wiping the tears off your flushed skin. His hand comes to rest by your jaw and he feels his breath hitch at the sight of you leaning into his palm, your eyes looking up into his own.
How could Jake? How could he just abandon you after months of being together? His hesitancy to make things real and concrete with you were the blaring red alarms Jay ignored. But he knew that inferring would only cost him his friendship with you so he pretended to be blind to anything and everything that was even remotely related to you or Jake..
“Do you want me to take you home?”
You nod leaving his warmth to walk away from the place that now held sour memories of another failed relationship.
The walk to the parking grounds goes by in haze because the next thing you remember is pulling him in the backseat. Your mind, hazy, vision clouded with lust- you couldn’t think straight.
You straddle him soon after and Jay hears the loud thumping of his heart. The silence is comforting, the muffled sounds of songs from the winter fair seep in through the tiny gaps and into the car- they fill the silence.
Jay feels the burning intensity of your gaze and looks up to meet your eyes. Up close, they are even more mesmerizing. He'd always try and catch your eyes, a pathetic attempt to have you look into his own. He wanted to memorize it, memorize the colour of your eyes, the curve of your eyelids, the flutter of your lashes- everything.
At that moment he had lost all consciousness. The faint glow from the lights of the Ferris wheel made your eyes glow in a whole new way. Jay swore he saw a glimmer of affection in them or was it lust? He couldn't tell them apart and in all honesty, he did not want to.
Jay would take it as you'd want to give it to him. He didn't care what form your liking for him took, if you wanted to have him, he wanted you to know you could, easily.
He'd give into it whatever you'd ask of him and not bat an eye because he has wanted you for so long now that the line between like and love had started to blur for him.
“Jay”
Your voice was soft, only for the two of you and Jay had already started replaying the sound of your whisper in his mind.
“Could you do something for me?” your fingers come to rest against his jaw and Jay is already nodding a yes even before the terms were laid out, “Kiss me like you mean it?”
Jay felt his body give out at that.
Your eyes glowed with a tender want, a need to be liked by someone, be their sole need. You wanted to feel like you were the first choice and not the last resort. Jay wanted to hold your face in his hands and whisper against your lips, how he was willing to do all that in a heartbeat. How he would abandon everything and make you his only need, want and priority.
Of how he has always wanted to feel your body in his arms. Of how sounds of your sighs and whimpers he'd catch around day would keep him up at night. Of how he was ready to kneel and make you the sole purpose of his life. But he stayed quiet, words trapped behind his teeth, sealed by his lips.
He couldn't say it out loud no when you were tangled up in your web of troubles. So when he leans in to catch your lips in a slow kiss he hopes, for tonight, that his hands and his frantic heart end up saying all that for him instead.
Your lips are hurried against his and Jay feels your impatience but it stands as a striking contrast to the gentle touch of your hands. You take your time to run your fingers over the skin of his neck and the slope of his shoulders. Soon your lips find those spots. Jay lets you take the lead, do whatever you wish, however you like.
His skin is left painted with the shimmering red of your lip gloss, it covers his neck- almost every inch of it is covered in you. When you don't come up to meet his lips Jay takes your face in his hands and guides your lips to his. It's gentle and slow but you crash your lips onto his with a new haste.
Jay feels your hands roam over the wool of his sweater and suddenly he's too hot, the heat is too much so he pulls it over his head in an instant.
It catches you in a great deal of surprise and you have to physically hold yourself back from tainting his honey toned skin with your lips. But your hands don't stay still for long. So as they make their way across the slants and slopes of his abs and arms your lips move against his at a slower pace.
“Jay” you whisper against his mouth and he feels his mind go blank.
“What is it, angel?” he manages but it leaves you gasping for air, the name makes your wandering fingers go still for a fraction of a second. His voice sends shivers down your heated body and at that point in time your mind stays clouded with him, only him, only Jay.
“He has never kissed me,” you say gazing into his eyes, “the way” your forehead rests against his, “you do” Your lips stretch into a smile and you feel your heart beat against your rib cage- fast but steady. You knew you were being genuine, you meant every word that fell out of your lips but to Jay, they sounded like words whispered under the influence of the event from minutes ago, like maybe you wished it was not him but someone else in place of him.
“Do you really mean that?” Jay's voice carried a light tremble, he was bracing for what was going to come out of your mouth. But you simply nodded a yes and leaned in for another kiss only this time he could feel his chest tighten because he couldn’t not bring himself to believe that you meant it.
Was it sadness? Or was it disappointment?
When your fingers fiddled with the zipper of his jeans Jay felt every other thought dissolve into the swirling lust that grew behind his eyes.
Soon enough he finds you- half naked and breathless, pressed against his chest, leaning in for another kiss. This time it lasts longer, this time you make sure the red of your starwberry lipgloss leaves his mouth stained that colour. This time you meet his tongue halfway as you pant into his mouth burning for more.
You feel his hands slip around your waist, his fingers- slender and gentle, sit on the slope of your hips. Your lips leave his and soon find the honey stretch of the skin of his neck. When you suck on it Jay feels his mind go fuzzy because he had never imagined that the sole touch of someone’s lips could drive him this insane- gnawing and clawing for more.
When you feel the tip of his clothed cock graze your core you bite your lips. But it doesn't last long. Because the next second Jay is grabbing your hips and pushing you down on him.
Jay feels you groan into the crook of his neck, your whimpers seep into his skin and leave him breathless.
His fingers dig into your skin, despite the dropping temperature your bodies lay slick with sweat.
“I don't think” , his lips leave hastily “ this is a good idea.”
His words, whispered yet loud, leave you thinking. And it dawns in you, the situation, you and him. You in his lap, clothes in a messy bundle on the front seat of his car. The same car you've been in and out of several times. Years of shared memories come rushing back and the guilt renders you speechless.
“Can you drive me home?” you say detaching yourself from him, eyes downcast.
Jay feels his body lose heat, your warmth and he hates the lack of it, the lack of you. But there was nothing he could do to make it go back to the point where you were pressed against him- breathless.
“Hey” his hands come to rest on your jaw all while you fight to meet his gaze.
“Look at me” and so you do even though the voices in your head scream and yell at you for giving in to a messy impulse. It would've been fine if it were any other guy but not him, not Jay. That would be unfair.
“I want you to know” his eyes are the most earnest, they glow and you can almost see warmth swirl in the depths of his browns. “That if you want me to pretend this did not happen” his tone is laced with a hidden disappointment and having caught onto that only makes you feel worse.
“I will”
You want to cry, sob and hide into the crook of his neck but you can't. You have so much to say but the only thing that comes out of your mouth in a hushed whisper is “I'm sorry”
You are pulled into him that very instant, his arms cage you against his half naked torso. You don't fight the hug.
#enhypen jay#jay enhypen#jay park#enhypen jay x reader#jay enha#park jongseong x reader#jay imagines#park jay imagines#jay hard hours#jay hard thoughts#jay fluff#enhypen jay hard hours#enhypen jay hard thoughts#enhypen jay fluff#enhypen#enhypen jay imagines#enha jay#enhablr#park jongseong#park jongseong imagines#park jongseong hard hours#park jongseong smut#park jongseong hard thoughts#jay smut#enhypen jay smut
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