#We were being explained how cuttings work and I was like???

[seitmai]

Many thoughts “I’m surprised you didn't have Ray bring us back,” you commented. You were used to him being the one close by, and Bucky didn't seem to bring a lot of his other men around his place. At least not that you were aware of.

“Between you and I, Curtis isn't a huge fan of most of my friends. The less time he spends with them the better his mood is.” If you didn't know any better, you’d say Bucky sounded amused. You were also curious why Curtis still worked for him if he didn't like the crowd he ran with. “But he’ll go to the club with me later. He deserves to get the first hit in since he pulled that bastard off of you.”

Fair 🤷🏻‍♀️

You shivered again. “How am I meant to get used to this lifestyle?” you asked. You followed the rules of society like a normal person, but Bucky made his own rules. He wasn’t afraid to use his influence or violence to get what he wanted in life. He was almost shameless in it and how he manipulated people around him. That wasn’t you. It could never be you.

Truly a good question

“We. How are we meant to get through this,” he corrected you. “And we do that one day at a time,” he said, like it was so simple. “Aren’t you already used to this?” you asked. It was the life you imagined he grew up with thanks to his dad. “I’m used to my lifestyle, but you’re out of your depth and I’m not used to this as being part of a couple. I’ve been selfish in how I’ve tried to ease you into this,” he said. You tried not to gape at him since he hadn’t eased you into anything at all. “But you’re home now and we’ll figure this out.”

Urgh that's actually really sweet of him

You pondered his words. Maybe he wasn’t trying to control you now that you were home. He was concerned for your well being. “We have to find common ground,” you whispered. It was already going to be a life sentence being by his side, and you couldn’t live your life as a prisoner.

Uff the last sentence really hit

“Yeah. No one ever put their hands on me like this before and I want to be able to defend myself if it happens again,” you explained, hearing Bucky’s swift intake of breath. Maybe he could keep you safe, but you needed to help yourself however you could. “Natasha or one of her girls teaching me will be better than some guy.”

I think that's a good idea, also gives some control back to her

Turning your gaze toward the ceiling once he left you alone, you tried to quiet the sudden screaming in your mind. You wanted answers from Clark, from Zemo. You also fought the urge to tell him to quickly come back. Why was his presence suddenly soothing when you were still so upset?

👀

“Of course. My apologies.” To her credit, she didn't look the least bit afraid or put off. She was either used to Bucky’s antics or used to difficult patients.

Probably both lol

Dr. Cho didn't take her eyes off you. “Would you prefer to speak with just me?” she asked, cutting Bucky off with a single glare when he opened his mouth to argue. “I know you didn't put your hands on her. I just want her to be comfortable.”

Dr. Cho is a good one 🫶🏻

Curtis took a step into the room at that point and your nerves crept up when you glanced at Bucky. His nostrils flared and his metal hand curled so tight so you hear the gears turn. You squeezed his hand in the hope that it would ease some of the tension. Maybe it was to soothe the both of you. “Breathe,” you whispered.

I live that it mirrors how Bucky calmed her down before with the same reminder

Dr. Cho leaned in a little once Bucky left the room. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything at all?” Her voice was quiet, casual, but there was something in her eyes that said she wasn’t just asking about this incident. Was she trying to help or was this a sick test to prove your loyalty? With Curtis nearby and being in Bucky’s penthouse, you wouldn’t risk it. “I just want to get some rest and recover from what happened,” you answered. The doctor nodded after a minute. “If you do want to talk-”

Omg I just wanna give Dr. Cho a hug!! She is the first one to truly question Bucky and his authority, I applaud her for doing the right thing even if in this situation the cards are stacked against her 👏🏻

“No, I don’t. She’s one of the best doctors there is. I think she has patched us all up at some point,” he answered, bringing the snack to your lips and smiling once you took a bite. “But she’s similar to you in a sense that she has a good heart, so she isn’t always comfortable with some of what goes on.”

100% valid on her part lol

Taking a breath, you let your eyes close and gasped when his lips touched each eyelid.

Surprised would not even describe what I would feel in that moment

Bucky’s face fell. “I promise I’m not trying to overwhelm you. I only wanted your day to end on a good note for you.”

That's such a sweet thought

It was meant to be a good day, and a wonderful time with your friends. “You built me my own library?” “I wanted you to have a sanctuary in our home. A space just for you,” he explained, running a hand along the back of the couch. “None of my men are allowed in here and I have to ask permission before I come in.”

She deserves and needs this just for her!

You slowly looked around. “So, you redesigned the room connected to the panic room to give to me?” you asked. “I told you your safety matters above all else,” he said, holding a hand out for you. You took it after slightly hesitating. The fact that he gave up what was likely one of the safest rooms in the entire penthouse in order for you to have a sanctuary made your head spin. “I had the combination changed to your birthday.”

What a sentiment to his concerns

“You really are prepared, aren’t you?” you asked. “Prepared, yes, but I had nothing to lose before,” he said, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He barely grazed your skin, almost testing to see if you’d flinch. “I have everything to lose now.”

He is so in love

He leaned in and your heart raced, but you didn’t feel trapped. Not this time. “You’re worth everything and more,” he whispered. “Boss?” Curtis called out from the hall before Bucky could kiss you.

Haha impeccable timing 🤭

“I just wanted to say thank you for helping me tonight,” you said. He looked stunned. Did Bucky or the others not express gratitude toward him? “I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that.”

I feel like Bucky is not a big thank you person lol

You smiled softly. “Do you like brownies? It isn’t much, but I do make a decent batch of brownies and it would be a small token of gratitude.” Curtis and Bucky both looked stunned. “You’re offering him brownies?” Bucky asked, glaring at the other man. “I haven’t had her brownies yet.” “I like brownies,” Curtis said. You smothered a giggle when the dangerous man pouted. “Oh, don’t pout. I didn’t say you wouldn’t get any. Curtis just gets the first try,” you said, poking Bucky’s arm. “And maybe I haven’t had a chance to make them because you’ve been so busy tailoring my schedule to your liking.” “I like her, boss. She’s a keeper.”

Haha I love Curtis already 🤭

Hold You Tight: Part 21

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 20 | Series Masterlist | Part 22

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.4k

Chapter Summary: Bucky shows you something after the doctor looks you over.

Chapter Warnings: Aftermath of physical assault, tension, mention of violence and threats, inner turmoil, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and I feel like this chapter is short. Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky rubbed your back, occasionally whispering sweet words when you didn't speak. After your exhausting cry fest, you resorted to sniffles and sighs. You wanted to hide away, which seemed cowardly. It was only fair after what you went through, but you also wanted to face the world. You were torn, and it was tiring.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered when your eyes slipped shut. “I know you're tired, but I need you to try to stay awake for me, okay?”

“And for Dr. Cho,” you said. It was probably good to stay awake in case you were showing any signs of a concussion. What sort of questions would she ask? How involved was she in Bucky’s world? “Where's Curtis?” you asked. You owed him a thank you at some point. Ray and Steve, too. Messed up situation or not they deserved a bit of your gratitude, right?

“He’s waiting to bring her up.”

“I’m surprised you didn't have Ray bring us back,” you commented. You were used to him being the one close by, and Bucky didn't seem to bring a lot of his other men around his place. At least not that you were aware of.

“Between you and I, Curtis isn't a huge fan of most of my friends. The less time he spends with them the better his mood is.” If you didn't know any better, you’d say Bucky sounded amused. You were also curious why Curtis still worked for him if he didn't like the crowd he ran with. “But he’ll go to the club with me later. He deserves to get the first hit in since he pulled that bastard off of you.”

Your stomach turned, but you felt better knowing he wouldn’t force you to go to the club considering he didn’t even want to say Clark’s name. “What are you going to do to him?”

You didn’t mean to shiver at the frost in his eyes, but you did. How could a look be so cold? “I’m not sure you want the details,” he replied. You weren't sure you wanted to know either. “What I can tell you is that he’s going to suffer and wish he was dead.”

You shivered again. “How am I meant to get used to this lifestyle?” you asked. You followed the rules of society like a normal person, but Bucky made his own rules. He wasn’t afraid to use his influence or violence to get what he wanted in life. He was almost shameless in it and how he manipulated people around him. That wasn’t you. It could never be you.

“We. How are we meant to get through this,” he corrected you. “And we do that one day at a time,” he said, like it was so simple.

“Aren’t you already used to this?” you asked. It was the life you imagined he grew up with thanks to his dad.

“I’m used to my lifestyle, but you’re out of your depth and I’m not used to this as being part of a couple. I’ve been selfish in how I’ve tried to ease you into this,” he said. You tried not to gape at him since he hadn’t eased you into anything at all. “But you’re home now and we’ll figure this out.”

“Does figuring things out mean you brush off what I ask for? Like going to work tomorrow?” you asked. It wasn’t wrong of you to want a normal day. Weren’t you owed that much?

He sighed, but it wasn’t out of annoyance. “I wasn’t trying to brush you off, Kotyonok. You went through something terrible tonight, and I thought staying home to rest and relax was the better option.”

You pondered his words. Maybe he wasn’t trying to control you now that you were home. He was concerned for your well being. “We have to find common ground,” you whispered. It was already going to be a life sentence being by his side, and you couldn’t live your life as a prisoner.

“Is that really a discussion you want to have tonight?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you glared. “I’m not saying that to insult you or dismiss your feelings. I just think tomorrow might be a better time to discuss it so we can both process everything.”

You didn’t want to say he was right. So much of what you had been through was because of his actions, but he was frightened by what happened, too. “I do want to say that Natasha offered to teach me self defense, and I think I’ll take her up on that.”

“You want Natasha to teach you?” he asked.

“Yeah. No one ever put their hands on me like this before and I want to be able to defend myself if it happens again,” you explained, hearing Bucky’s swift intake of breath. Maybe he could keep you safe, but you needed to help yourself however you could. “Natasha or one of her girls teaching me will be better than some guy.”

If some guy put you on your back the way Clark did who knew how you’d react. The way Bucky’s eyes darkened he didn’t want another guy touching you either. “As long as I can teach you how to use a gun and a knife.”

“A gun and a knife?” you asked before his phone went off.

“That should be Curtis and Dr. Cho. I’ll be right back.”

Turning your gaze toward the ceiling once he left you alone, you tried to quiet the sudden screaming in your mind. You wanted answers from Clark, from Zemo. You also fought the urge to tell him to quickly come back. Why was his presence suddenly soothing when you were still so upset?

You sat up when you heard footsteps followed by a gentle call of your name. “Hello. I’m Dr. Cho.” The gentle but strong voice matched the demeanor of the woman who entered the room. Bucky followed a couple of steps behind, and Curtis lingered in the doorway. “I understand you've been through quite the ordeal this evening.”

“She was attacked,” Bucky snarled, moving beside you again as the doctor set her bag down. “That’s a lot more than just some ordeal.”

“Bucky,” you whispered. The doctor meant no offense or harm.

“Of course. My apologies.” To her credit, she didn't look the least bit afraid or put off. She was either used to Bucky’s antics or used to difficult patients. “Can you please tell me your name and date of birth?”

You answered the question easily, but didn’t say anything else as she checked your heartbeat and blood pressure. She wasn’t your normal doctor, so it wasn’t like she had access to your medical records. Did she?

“And can you tell me what happened tonight?”

Your eyes flickered to Bucky and Curtis. Both were watching you with a mixture of anger and sympathy. “Well…” It took a moment to really begin. “Cl… A man was waiting for me when I got back to my apartment. I told him to leave, but…”

“Breathe,” Bucky whispered, taking your hand and silently urging you to continue whenever you were ready.

You wanted to breathe normally and not think about Clark or anything else.

Dr. Cho didn't take her eyes off you. “Would you prefer to speak with just me?” she asked, cutting Bucky off with a single glare when he opened his mouth to argue. “I know you didn't put your hands on her. I just want her to be comfortable.”

“It's okay,” you said. Even if you wanted to speak to the doctor alone you knew Bucky would hover nearby. “He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back hard enough that I fell to the ground,” you continued, showing her so she could look it over. “I may have hit my head when that happened.”

She turned your wrist over, looking for swelling or tenderness as you tested your mobility. It didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier, which had to be a good sign. “Have you been experiencing any nausea? Trouble thinking? Sensitivity to light?” she asked, getting a small flashlight to check your eyes.

“No, I think I’m okay,” you replied.

“Did anything else happen?”

“He choked me,” you said above a whisper, skipping over the fact that he put a hand on your thigh. Nothing had actually happened.

“Everything he did to you, I’m going to make it a hundred times worse,” Bucky said through his teeth.

Curtis took a step into the room at that point and your nerves crept up when you glanced at Bucky. His nostrils flared and his metal hand curled so tight so you hear the gears turn. You squeezed his hand in the hope that it would ease some of the tension. Maybe it was to soothe the both of you.

“Breathe,” you whispered.

Anger remained on his face when he took a deep breath. You didn’t think he’d fully calm down until he took his aggression out on Clark. And what about Zemo, if he was really involved?

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” the doctor said, handing you a tissue before she checked your throat. When did tears fill your eyes again? “Are you experiencing any chest pains? Difficulty breathing?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

“And the man who did this to you, is he-”

“I’m handling it,” Bucky said, leaving no room to argue.

The doctor barely concealed a sigh, the only crack in her cool demeanor. “Understood,” she whispered, finishing her exam. Maybe she was aware of some of what Bucky did, but didn’t approve. “No broken bones or anything of that nature, but you may feel sore tomorrow. Do you have any allergies?”

“I’m not allergic to pain meds if that’s what you're asking.”

“Well, I recommend you rest tomorrow. If you start to feel anything out of the ordinary, I want to know right away so we can take you to the hospital if necessary.”

You sighed. If the doctor was telling you to rest, there was no way Bucky would let you out of the penthouse for work. “I’ll rest tomorrow.”

“And could someone please get her a snack and some water? I’d like to make sure she can keep food down,” she said.

“I’ll get it,” Bucky offered before Curtis could move.

Dr. Cho leaned in a little once Bucky left the room. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything at all?”

Her voice was quiet, casual, but there was something in her eyes that said she wasn’t just asking about this incident. Was she trying to help or was this a sick test to prove your loyalty? With Curtis nearby and being in Bucky’s penthouse, you wouldn’t risk it. “I just want to get some rest and recover from what happened,” you answered.

The doctor nodded after a minute. “If you do want to talk-”

“I got your favorite,” Bucky announced, deliberately inserting himself between you and Dr. Cho. “So, she’s okay by your standards?”

“Yes, overall,” she said after a moment. “But I want to make sure-”

“I’ll make sure she can keep food down and I’ll call if anything changes,” he smiled, nodding over to Curtis. “He’ll show you out.”

You furrowed your brows. Why was he dismissing her so swiftly after making such a fuss over having you looked over? “I appreciate you taking the time to come here. Thank you.”

The doctor gave you a smile as she packed up. “You’re very kind,” she said, daring to look at Bucky again. “I’ll be expecting a call if anything changes.”

Bucky’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “My girl is a lot stronger than she believes herself to be, but I take her health very seriously. If something changes, you’ll know.”

Tension spiked before the doctor gave you a nod and brushed past Curtis. The man quickly turned to follow her, leaving you and Bucky alone once again. “Do you have a problem with Dr. Cho?” you asked.

“No, I don’t. She’s one of the best doctors there is. I think she has patched us all up at some point,” he answered, bringing the snack to your lips and smiling once you took a bite. “But she’s similar to you in a sense that she has a good heart, so she isn’t always comfortable with some of what goes on.”

That could’ve been why you sensed that she wasn’t just asking you about this evening. Maybe she was looking for a way to help. “Do you trust her?”

“I trust that she’ll do what she’s told,” he replied.

You had trouble swallowing the next bite at those words. People were under his thumb whether they wanted to be or not. “From the little I know of her, she seems like a good doctor.”

“Always seeing the best in everyone,” he smiled. That wasn’t going to change. “Can I show you something now that you’re home that’s kind of important? I can carry you if you can't walk.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think I can manage. What would you like to show me?” you asked. If he pulled his pants down…

He made sure he had the rest of the snack and water in one hand, helping you up with the other. “Do you remember how I said last night that I didn’t want you wandering into the den because I was having it redone?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. You hadn’t gone off to explore anyway since you went to the living room and ended up riding his thigh.

“Well, it was pretty much done. Before I beat the shit out of the guy following us this morning, I had one last finishing touch done,” he explained, slowly walking you down the hall. “Are you feeling okay? It doesn’t bother you to walk?”

“I’m fine,” you said, almost forgetting that he had already beat someone up today. It seemed so long ago. “But I don’t understand why you’re showing me this if I should be-”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “Close your eyes, Kotyonok. Please.”

Taking a breath, you let your eyes close and gasped when his lips touched each eyelid. You let him take your hand and guide you forward. And wasn’t this how it had been since the beginning? Doing what Bucky wanted even when you fought it?

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the brightness in the room. Your heart swelled as you looked around, the warm glow making you smile. Books lined the walls, and the couch and chairs were tailored to your comfort and style. There was even a nook by the window and blankets.

“You…” You blinked away the sudden tears.

Bucky’s face fell. “I promise I’m not trying to overwhelm you. I only wanted your day to end on a good note for you.”

It was meant to be a good day, and a wonderful time with your friends. “You built me my own library?”

“I wanted you to have a sanctuary in our home. A space just for you,” he explained, running a hand along the back of the couch. “None of my men are allowed in here and I have to ask permission before I come in.”

Your mouth fell open. Was he serious? “So, if I want to be alone and I come here, you can’t come in if I say no?”

He nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you want.”

You could hardly believe it. Was this space truly your own? “It’s beautiful,” you said, taking another look around. For a second, you felt like you were living in part of Beauty and the Beast. “Thank you.”

Bucky beamed at you, almost as bright as the light in the room. “There’s one more thing,” he said, setting the water and snack down. He pressed a discreet button by one of the shelves, which opened to reveal a metal door.

“Is that…”

“It’s a panic room,” he said, pressing four numbers into the keypad before that door slid open. “When I had the penthouse constructed, it was one of the first things I had put in. Can never be too careful, right?”

You slowly looked around. “So, you redesigned the room connected to the panic room to give to me?” you asked.

“I told you your safety matters above all else,” he said, holding a hand out for you. You took it after slightly hesitating. The fact that he gave up what was likely one of the safest rooms in the entire penthouse in order for you to have a sanctuary made your head spin. “I had the combination changed to your birthday.”

You took a look inside, your mouth falling open again. You weren’t sure what to expect, but the space looked like another small den. It had a couch, a television, a fridge and microwave. It even had a bed.

“You really are prepared, aren’t you?” you asked.

“Prepared, yes, but I had nothing to lose before,” he said, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He barely grazed your skin, almost testing to see if you’d flinch. “I have everything to lose now.”

“Am I really worth that much?” you asked. More than the power he wielded, more than his wealth?

He leaned in and your heart raced, but you didn’t feel trapped. Not this time. “You’re worth everything and more,” he whispered.

“Boss?” Curtis called out from the hall before Bucky could kiss you.

You dipped your head down, both of you letting out a breath. “I should finish my snack and get some rest,” you said. You needed it. “But, really, thank you. This is very special to me.”

It didn’t make up for what happened, but maybe it was a start of something new. You didn’t want to dwell on that tonight. You were too emotional, too tired, too vulnerable.

“I want you to be happy here,” he whispered, opting to kiss your forehead since your lips were out of reach. “I should see what Curtis wants.”

“Oh, I want to say something to him,” you said, pulling away from Bucky before he could stop you. “Curtis?” you asked, spotting him just outside of the den.

The man leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say thank you for helping me tonight,” you said. He looked stunned. Did Bucky or the others not express gratitude toward him? “I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that.”

“Nothing to pay me back for.” He cleared his throat. “Just doing my job.”

You smiled softly. “Do you like brownies? It isn’t much, but I do make a decent batch of brownies and it would be a small token of gratitude.”

Curtis and Bucky both looked stunned. “You’re offering him brownies?” Bucky asked, glaring at the other man. “I haven’t had her brownies yet.”

“I like brownies,” Curtis said.

You smothered a giggle when the dangerous man pouted. “Oh, don’t pout. I didn’t say you wouldn’t get any. Curtis just gets the first try,” you said, poking Bucky’s arm. “And maybe I haven’t had a chance to make them because you’ve been so busy tailoring my schedule to your liking.”

“I like her, boss. She’s a keeper.”

Bucky breathed through his nose. “Why the fuck did you call for me?”

“Thor’s getting antsy.” He rolled his eyes. “Wants to know when you’re heading over.”

“I can’t leave you by yourself and I don’t want to drag you to the club,” Bucky said.

You knew he wouldn’t leave you alone and there was no way he would leave Curtis or Ray or another man there with you, at least not tonight. “What about Natasha? Can she come over? If not, maybe I can get a nap in the club office.”

“But-”

“You said for them to shut the club down, so it’s not like music or the lights will bother me. And this way I’ll be close by,” you said. And it wasn’t like they’d beat Clark up right in front of you.

“Maybe,” Bucky said, flexing his fingers when his phone went off. “If that’s Thor…”

You could hear his teeth grind as he read the screen. “What is it?”

“It’s Zemo,” he said, your stomach dropping. “And he wants to talk.”

How long before Bucky answers Zemo? And what do we think of the library? Is he leaving you at home or taking you to the club? ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{Heyyy, so I got this idea from This post by @nightingale-prompts so all credits go to them and I hope this is somewhat good and I’m sorry if I butchered it}~

•Demon Boy•

The YJL has failed to stop the cult summoning.

Wait let’s go back for a second and see how we ended up here. The last mission the YJL was on was….a disaster to put it shortly but now is not the time to unpack all of that so their mentors thought it would be safer to put them on a very low risk mission with little to no risk of fighting.

And this was met with less then pleased reaction so here the YJL was in a random town in between Gotham and Metropolis that has only ever had petty crime and the very race villain coming through to get any from the hero’s and the YJL was bored and they thought that they were just going to be here with nothing to do until the could go back to the watchtower and give the most bland report in the history of hero’s.

Until Raven felt a very powerful sudden change of magical power, She immediately told the others and they started to run to where it was coming from which was a very old warehouse and the doors were locked.

So with some help from YJL members who can fly they all got onto the roof where luckily there was a large roof from years of being open to the elements for many years, that’s when they see the group of the probably cultists around a summoning circle and by the looks of it the YJL have to work fast.

So the YJL drop down from the roof and a fight breaks out as some more cultists were in the blind spots from the hole in the roof ~{We’re just going to skip over the fighting as I am terrible at writing that lol}~

The YJL got the cultists down.

Well some are passed out while others are bond with rope that Robin has for…some reason while the more responsible members were talking about how they would explain to their mentors why they didn’t call them immediately but that was cut short as they had apparently missed one as they heard some movement and they saw the most likely head of the cultists put a bloody hand in the circle and it started to fill with a black tar like substance. The YJL all jumped by ready to fight whatever came out of the circle.

The tar from the circle started to make a more humanoid shape and it looked like it was trying to take the shape of someone around the YJL age and after a few seconds the tar shattered like glass with a golden glow and a screech that made everyone cover their ears from the body the tar had made.

The boy? Had short black hair with a few strands of hair being white and he had tired glowing gold eyes, He wasn’t wearing anything on his body but some bits of the tar stuck to him and luckily covered his bits and he had gold markings all over his body.

While the YJL are trying to think about what the hell just happened the boy look to them with tired eyes and equally tired smile and said “Oh Hey~”

…..

OH NO HES HOT

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Background•

Danny was just catching up with some much needed sleep in his Lair

After about the second year of being a halfa he with Jazz told their parents (With Sam and Tucker outside with a Go-Bag in case this goes down hill) about Danny being Phantom and they were both very surprised and very upset with themselves for fighting him and all the things they said around him and than when Danny asked why they were not upset with him for being a ghost and they said that they love him even if his a ghost because he’s there son no matter what (and no Jazz he is not crying!!)

Maddie and Jack after calming down enough immediately start to go through all their ghost hunting stuff and make it safe for Danny to be around and grab all of their research and put it into box’s and stuff that shit into the attic to never see the light of day again and everything felt perfect for Danny.

Until the G.I.W did something dumb.

They had made a shity bomb that can somehow actually damage the earth very badly if even one thing goes wrong out of some outdated Fenton tech they still had after Maddie and Jack cut all ties with them and they some how got a hold of the blueprints from the portal and remade it and they sent the bomb into it.

You can guess how that went

So now everyone from that planet is dead most people just fade as in their life they didn’t come into contact with ecto but guess who did, The Fentons +Sam and Tucker so now we have

•Jazz who running around the Ghost Zone giving therapy

•Sam who is going with Undergrowth to random world and beating the shit out of people who destroy the environment

•Tucker who is now intuned with his past lives and going to find the people who took his stuff

•Maddie and Jack also running around the Ghost Zone trying to learn as much as possible

And while the others are doing this Danny is just chilling in his lair getting some much needed sleep until he hears the bubbling of tar and the hum of a summons…

Why can’t Danny just SLEEP.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Facts•

•Like in my Misunderstanding Vampire Au where the Etco looks green in Danny’s world it looks gold in the DC one and for plot convenience and because it would be fucking funny for me Danny doesn’t really notice the difference

•I headcanon that the Ghost Zone is semi-sentient but no thoughts just vibes so when it feels something is going to attack it it just sends it back at them and the Ghost Zone makes whatever is trying to hurt it a power up so when it get sent back whoever did knows not to pull that shit again

•Danny isn’t an Ancient, he’s just chill

•Fade means they didn’t become a ghost while Faded means true death for a ghost

•The YJL are having a Time right now

•Danny just wants to sleep god damn it

•Maddie and Jack are living their best afterlife

•Tucker is wondering why so many people just had his things like what the hell?????

•don’t worry Dani is here to! She’s just jumping worlds to see what she can find right now she’s traveling with two brothers and a angel for some reason

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearances•

Danny- isn’t wearing anything

~{And that’s it! Hope I did this well anyway got to go and terrorize some of the assholes from the church with the local witch coven byeeeeeee}~

[eraserbread]

I would die for curse user! Nanami

pining for curse user!nanami after he's shunned from sorcery... gimmethat :((((

➽────────────────────────❥

you wonder if your friends can see the unease in your face. they're all laughing around you, smoking, drinking and being... friends. it's hard to pull yourself together enough to be here, but you try. they deserve the best, most social part of you.

but its so fucked because he's supposed to be here. nanami wasn't supposed to have run away like he did. and... it's all he did. he ran away in the middle of the night -- took his blade, left his clothes, and disappeared. in the wake, rumors spread like wildfire, your peers saying things like he finally snapped or he just moved to a different country. suguru suggested malaysia -- everyone called him an idiot.

since the night he left, he's been messaging you on an unknown number. little things like;

good morning. miss you.

or

still thinking about you. hello?

tonight it was:

in the city just for a night. i can't meet you on campus.

that's the message you glance down at as shoko hands her smoke over to you. you're left staring at the dimmed screen for a second, and all the attention falls off of satoru's stupid mission story and onto your awkward figure.

"you're good, right?"

no, you're not good -- you want to tell satoru. you want to see their face as you tell them nanami's been in constant contact. you wonder how they'd react. you wonder if they'd react.

as you open your mouth to respond, shoko taps into your side. "hey, you want my wrist to go limp, here?"

the five of you do this every other friday - get drinks and insane plates piled high with sushi at your favorite restaurant, and catch up. it's been easier to do it this way since graduating - most of you stayed on campus, but the few who didn't, you and suguru, didn't show up much at all.

"sorry." you pull a tight-lipped smile, taking it from her hands. she steps out of conversation for a moment, mentioning to haibara how 'if he doesn't take any missions, he won't make any money' or something of the sort. you weren't really listening.

nanami... all you can think about is nanami

nanami. nanaminanaminanaminanami....

"hey- you'll get ash in the food, come on,"

"this is like... the eighth time you disassociated tonight -- what is wrong?"

you don't tell them the truth. instead, you run away.

away from your loving, prying friends and into the arms of your empty apartment and the promise of your nanami. it was so cruel - this hold he has on you. everyone tells you he's a coward, or too unfit to handle his emotions. even the ones he loved just shrug him off, now.

but, not you. never you.

not even when he shows up at the apartment door you guided him to with a grey hoodie over his head.

"i don't expect you to understand." is the first thing he says to you in over a year. "but I would like to explain..."

"ke-kento..."

"let me in, please." then, he looks up at you and through the darkness you can see the small, smoldering fires in his eyes. they were always there, but brighter with age and angst. it's so hard not to cry.

"c'mon."

you're turned around, closing the door when his hands ball into fists at his side. you two's whirlwind high-school romance was long gone, now. all that's left standing in this tiny apartment is a shell of who once loved another.

"then, explain."

so, he wastes no time. if nanami was one thing, it was straight to the point. "I despise watching this society treat my friends as curse bait. none of us chose this."

"but, it's our duty-

"no. it's not." he finally pulls off his hood, still unable to look at you, but all you can look at is him. "our duty is to be human. to work until the day we die, yeah, but not die from our work." he's monotone and familiar, finally meeting your gaze so you can see all of him. shamelessly, you reach to flick the light switch on.

he cut his hair.

"I don't want to be a villain."

you don't even care that he's watching you comb over his body with your eyes. it seems as if this time out of sorcery aged him, but never in a bad way. short hair, mean eyes, strong jawline, and broad shoulders - all of it was new for you, but all of it is nanami.

all you can think to do is shake your head. it's something - some kind of answer.

"and i hope you don't see me as changed... i'm still yours." he gets shy just like he always did, drifting off in volume as he licks your romantic ego.

every cell in your body is screaming to let him in. the want is clawing at your morals, peddling over all of the grief and sorrow and confusion nanami's leaving caused you all. it was so sudden, and he was one of the strongest.

it feels wrong to admit just how healthier he feels when you finally hug him again. there are muscles under your fingertips -- hardened skin and bone you have to dig into to feel the familiarity. you're breathing in his city-tinged, warm colongned musk, breath shuddering and breaking all over his shoulder. he touches you, too. just above your hips, lightly, like he's wary of scaring you off.

a year isn't too long, but it's just long enough for kento to feel unsure about himself.

it didn't matter if he was a dead-man walking, sentenced to execution by a society he once treasured. there's something about you that makes him want to risk it all.

so, he does - elbow-deep in your sweet spirit.

[thehighpriestess1]

Make a wish: Hope

Warning: Dark themes. Kissing scene. Mentions accident. Mentions guns and blood. Yandere themes. Strong smut. Minors do not interact!

Genre: Angst, fluff, Smut.

Pairing: Gojo x y/n, Nanami x y/n

word count : 17k+

Ask box | Previous chapter | fic masterlist | Other works

The city lights outside shimmered like scattered stars, but inside, everything was unraveling. The tension between you and Gojo was thick, pressing against your chest, making it hard to breathe. The penthouse felt colder than usual, the high ceilings amplifying the silence that had stretched between you since you walked in the door.

You stood in the middle of the living room, arms wrapped around yourself, the ache in your chest unbearable. Gojo leaned against the kitchen counter, hands gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles turned white. His sunglasses were gone, leaving his piercing blue eyes exposed, but tonight, they weren’t full of mischief or warmth. Tonight, they were unreadable.

“You haven’t said a single word,” you whispered, voice trembling, barely able to get the words out. “Not at the party. Not when your father made that joke about Utahime joining your family. Not when I was standing right there, waiting for you to say something. Anything.”

Gojo let out a slow, measured breath, rubbing his face with his palm before looking at you. “It wasn’t the time or place.”

You let out a bitter laugh, one that didn’t sound like your own. “It’s never the time or place, is it? Every time I bring up telling your family about us, you brush it off like it doesn’t matter.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed forward, fueled by the months—years—of silence. “It matters to me, Gojo.”

His expression darkened, and for the first time tonight, you saw something flicker across his face—guilt, hesitation, maybe even regret. But it was gone in an instant. “I’m trying to protect you,” he said, and it almost sounded like he believed it.

“Protect me?” You took a shaky step forward, anger burning behind your ribs. “From what? From being acknowledged? From being yours in public? Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to stand there while your father talked about Utahime like she’s your future?” You swallowed hard. “And you just smiled.”

Gojo inhaled sharply, looking away. “You don’t understand—”

“No, I don’t understand,” you interrupted, your voice rising. “Because you never explain anything! All I know is that we’ve been engaged for over a year, and you still act like I’m some kind of secret.” Your hands clenched at your sides. “Do you even love me?”

His head snapped up, his entire body tensing like a wire about to snap. “You know I do.”

“Then why?” Your voice cracked, your vision blurring with unshed tears. “Why do I feel like I mean nothing to you when we step outside these walls?”

Gojo pushed off the counter, running a hand through his hair. He was getting frustrated now, the carefully constructed patience he usually wore slipping. “Because it’s not that simple,” he snapped. “You think I can just walk up to my family and tell them I’m marrying someone they didn’t choose? That I can just ignore generations of tradition, alliances, and expectations?”

You sucked in a shaky breath. “You can. If you wanted to.”

His eyes flashed, a storm brewing beneath the surface. “You think it’s that easy? Everything I have—everything you have—is because of them. This penthouse, the expensive clothes, the giant ring on your finger—it’s all because of my family.” His voice turned cold. “I can’t just throw that away.”

The words felt like a slap.

You took a step back, your heart pounding. “I never asked for any of this.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the space between you. “I don’t care about the money, the penthouse, the status. I don’t care about the gifts or the vacations.” A tear finally slipped down your cheek, but you ignored it. “I just want you. I want to hold your hand in public. I want you to introduce me as your fiancée instead of pretending I don’t exist. I want to go to cafés together like a normal couple. I want you to call me yours in front of everyone.”

Gojo’s jaw clenched so tightly you thought he might break. “And what if that’s not possible?”

You stared at him, feeling your heart splinter. “Then what’s the point of this?” Your voice cracked, raw and desperate. “What’s the point of us if I’m always going to be your secret?”

Gojo opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was stuck, torn between the weight of his family and the love he claimed to have for you. And that hurt more than anything—more than the silence, more than his father’s words, more than the secrecy.

And then, like the final nail in the coffin, he scoffed. Scoffed. “Maybe I should just marry Utahime then.” His voice was sharp, bitter. “At least she comes from an influential family. At least she wouldn’t act so ungrateful. What do you even have to complain about? You came from nothing and now you have everything!”

The room fell deathly silent. You swayed slightly, as if his words had physically knocked the air from your lungs. Your throat felt tight, burning with the tears you refused to let fall.

Gojo’s expression shifted, like he realized too late what he had just said, but you weren’t going to give him a chance to take it back.

You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t come from nothing”. You looked up at him, “I might not have wealth or influence but I love you. If you really want to marry her then tell me now and I will leave”

He stared at you blankly. “Where would you even go?”

“Get out, Gojo.” Your hands were shaking, your entire body trembling with the weight of everything that had just happened. “You want to marry Utahime? Go ahead. You want to keep pretending I don’t exist? Fine. But I won’t do this anymore.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his mouth slightly open like he wanted to argue, to fix this, but his own pride wouldn’t let him and then, without another word, he grabbed his coat and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Gojo sat across from his father in his clan mansion. If mansion is even the right word to describe the property sprawled across acres. He stared at his father who was looking at him intently. “Satoru.. If you don’t like Utahime then we can find other nobel wom-”.

“No need for that”. Gojo said casually like his father had offered him water. “I have given you two options. Either find another heir for the clan or I become the head of the clan now and rule by my will and mine alone". 

“You insolent fool!”. His father stood up and threw the tea cup across the table, barely missing Gojo. 

But Gojo didn’t even flinch. “Pick. Now”.

“Do you know what you are saying?! You are nothing without our clan name! Nothing! Everything that you have is because I gave it to you! You want to leave the clan?!”, he scoffed, “Go. do it!”. He mocked.

Gojo nodded and took out a paper from the brown file. He flicked open his fountain pen and confidently signed while staring his father right in the eye. He slid the paper across the table. “Go ahead. Sign it. I will be out of the clan as soon as you put your pen down”. 

His father stared at the paper. Gojo wasn’t just throwing a tantrum. “All this for the girl? If you want her so badly, who is stopping you? Everyone has mist-”.

“Stop. Right. There”. Gojo warned. His voice was dark and warning. “Sign the papers and I will be out”.

His father gulped harshly. For the past 4 hours he and Gojo had been stuck in this stalemate with Gojo refusing to budge. He tried offering Satoru more power, more control, but he wouldn’t budge. He stared at Satoru’s signature. Neat and confident lines sprawled above the dotted line. He sat down defeatedly. 

Gojo stared at his father. He knew he was not going to sign it. There was no one else capable enough to take the position. Gojo wasn’t just denouncing the position, he was denouncing his family. Sure he had few cousins but they were weak, timid. His way here was easier than he had imagined. All he had to do was threaten his cousins to sign off their shares to him in return for a handsome fixed payment every month their alternative was death. Gojo smiled to himself as he thought about one of them pissing himself staring at the barrel of his gun. Sure he had to fight a few men and get stabbed a few times but he was here now. He had the cards and he controlled the game.

“The elders won’t be happy”. His father warned.

“They would be dead in a few years”. Gojo quipped.

“Your mother would be rolling in her-”.

“DO NOT BRING HER INTO THIS!”. Gojo’s voice echoed through the halls making even the most powerful man in the country flinch in front of him. “You had no right to speak of her. I know how you treated her. So either sign the goddamn paper and free me of this clan or..”

“Or what?”. His father’s eyes twitched. “What if I don’t sign it?”.

“Blood will flow. This clan will disappear within one week. That’s not a threat dear father. It is a promise”. In a blink, Gojo was standing beside his father, faster than the old man could react. The distinct click of a safety being switched off echoed through the room. Cold steel pressed against his father’s temple.

Gojo’s father stiffened, his breath hitching.

“I’ve played by your rules for long enough,” Satoru murmured, his voice a whisper of death against his father’s ear. “But I think it’s time we try something new.”

His father swallowed a single bead of sweat trailing down his temple. “You’d kill me?”

Gojo let out a small chuckle, his grip on the gun unwavering. “Not yet. Killing you now would be boring. Predictable. I want you to watch, father.” His voice was almost affectionate, but the venom beneath it was unmistakable. “I want you to see the empire you built crumble beneath my hands. I want you to understand that the name ‘Gojo’ means nothing without me.”

His father exhaled shakily. “And the girl?”

Gojo’s grip on the gun tightened. “Say her name, and I’ll pull the trigger.”

The threat was real. His father knew it. Gojo didn’t bluff, didn’t threaten without intent. His son was no longer the careless child he had once been—this was a man forged in fire, sharpened into a blade honed for destruction.

Gojo let the silence stretch, letting his father stew in his own helplessness, before he finally stepped back. He lowered the gun, but the damage had been done. The unshakable Gojo patriarch had been reduced to nothing more than a trembling old man.

Gojo placed the gun on the table, right next to the unsigned papers. A silent invitation.

“What is it going to be?” His voice was casual, almost playful. “Sign it, and I walk away. Don’t, and I’ll show you exactly how much of a monster you’ve created.”

His fathers hands trembled. “Satoru,” his father called out, voice hoarse. 

Gojo chuckled and rubbed his temple. “If you want me to stay in the clan, to continue the legacy, then announce today. In the next one hour. Choice is your father”.

The grand hall of the Gojo estate was silent. Heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and reluctant acceptance. The elders sat in a semicircle, their faces etched with years of wisdom and hardened tradition. Some masked their contempt well, others not so much, but all of them knew—this moment was inevitable.

Gojo Satoru stood at the center. Tall. Unshaken. A living embodiment of the limitless power they all feared. He carried himself with a confidence so absolute, so unwavering, that even the most seasoned among them could not meet his gaze for long. The flickering torches cast long shadows behind him, making him seem even larger, a spectral force of change that could not be ignored.

His father, the current head of the clan, stood before him, holding an aged scroll that had been passed down for generations. His voice, though steady, lacked the power of the man standing before him.

“With the blood of the god with six eyes, with the strength of our ancestors, with the will of the heavens, I stand here as witness,” the elder Gojo intoned, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Before the spirits of our forebears, before the pillars of this sacred house, you, Gojo Satoru, swear upon your name, upon your blood, and upon your power.”

Gojo tilted his head slightly, his smirk ghosting over his lips. He knew the words well—this was tradition, after all. And yet, the weight of it settled differently tonight. He was not just another heir reciting empty promises. He was the inevitable future.

“I swear,” Gojo repeated, his voice steady and clear. “To uphold the strength of this clan, to be its shield, its sword, and its terror. To stand above all others, to guard the balance of power, and to answer to none but my own will.”

The room tensed. This was not the oath as it had been spoken for centuries. A murmur spread among the elders, a few exchanging wary glances. Yet, no one dared to interrupt him.

Gojo’s father hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing. “To protect the legacy of our name, to ensure the supremacy of our bloodline, and to act with wisdom and restraint.”

Gojo’s lips curled. “I will protect what is mine. I will ensure that none forget who stands at the peak. And restraint?” He exhaled sharply, amused. “That will depend entirely on those who stand before me.”

A ripple of unease spread through the assembly. He had twisted the oath, bent it to his will without breaking it. He had given them no opening to challenge him.

The few elders who had once spoken against him—the ones who had fought to keep him in check—lowered their gazes. The others, whose sons and daughters now stood in Gojo’s shadow, bound to him by loyalty or fear, remained silent. They had long accepted that resisting Gojo Satoru was futile.

His father closed the scroll and exhaled, unreadable. “It is done.”

Gojo turned then, his gaze sweeping over the room. He could see it—the way their shoulders tightened, the way their throats bobbed as they swallowed their resentment. It was almost amusing.

A lesser man would have sought their approval. But Gojo was no lesser man. He had not come here for their acceptance. He had come to remind them. He was their strongest, their inevitable future, and whether they liked it or not—He was already their ruler.

Any other man in the clan would be celebrating his accession. But not Gojo. As he signed the papers his eyes welled up. If only  he had the guts to do this before then none of this would have happened. Maybe by now you and him would have a kid or two. The thought alone made him smile a little. But he was given another chance..

You groaned as you tried to lift your head up. Was it all a dream? You vaguely remembered seeing him outside your house. Morning light filtered through the linen curtain casting a soft light. You stared at the ceiling. A faint smile made its way to your lips.Gojo had just gone against his entire clan for you, something he didn’t even think of doing in the past. He was a different man. How did you get in your room? Did he drop you? Your mom is going to kill you. You moved the covers away and made your way down.

Your mom was sitting on the table, sipping her morning tea. “Morning”. You said softly.

“Morning!”. She turned and smiled. 

“How did I get home?”. You asked hesitantly.

“What do you mean?”. She asked. “You were at home. In your bed. I came to check on you in the morning but you were sleeping”.

Your heart sank. Was it all a fever dream? You wanted it to be true. So you went back to your room. Your head still felt heavy. Picking up your phone you scrolled through the messages. Replying to everyone who had texted the day before. Your finger hovered over Gojo’s chat for a moment before you opened it,

Y/n: Hi.

You waited a few moments.

Gojo: Hi.

Y/n: Where are you?

Gojo: Office.

So he was back. So maybe last night did happen. But how did you get back?

Gojo: How are you feeling now?

Y/n: Better. Might come to work today.

You bit your lips nervously. You were not in a condition to work but you had to talk to him.

Gojo: No need. You are on leave until tomorrow. So rest.

You sighed and fell back in your bed and held the phone above your face. So it was all a dream. It had to be. After all the cruel words you had thrown, no one would want to talk to you. You wouldn’t want to talk to you. You were about to keep your phone away but then it buzzed in your hand.

Gojo: You need to stop sneaking out. 

A wide smile spread across your face and you sat up immediately. You bit your lip as your heart raced against your chest.

y/n: How did I get home?

Gojo: You left the door unlocked so I dropped you. Hope you don’t mind. Sorry if I crossed a line.

You groaned and paced around the room. 

y/n: Please. Stop it. I feel bad about it. 

Gojo: Okay

You didn’t know what to reply but you wanted to continue the conversation anyway. 

Y/n: Mom has invited you for dinner today. 7 PM. Are you available?

Gojo: I will be there.

The silverware was still neatly placed on the dining table, candles burned down to their wicks, the once-warm meal long since gone cold. The clock on the wall mocked you with every tick, each second stretching into an eternity as you sat alone, staring at the untouched dinner you had prepared. Three hours. Three fucking hours you had waited at that table, heart sinking with each passing minute, phone gripped so tightly in your palm it was a wonder it hadn’t cracked. But Gojo never called. Never texted. And now, as the penthouse door swung open, revealing him, all the hurt, frustration, and paranoia inside you ignited into something volatile.

Gojo barely glanced at you as he stepped inside, tossing his coat onto the couch like nothing was wrong. His silver hair was slightly tousled, his shirt a little wrinkled—like he had been out having the time of his life while you had been sitting at that table, waiting.

You stood up slowly, voice eerily calm despite the storm raging inside you. “Where were you?”

Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair as if he was the one exhausted. “I was out.”

Your fingers curled into fists. “Out where?”

“With a friend,” he said nonchalantly, walking toward the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

You let out a bitter laugh, one that barely sounded like you. “With a friend,” you repeated, shaking your head. “Tell me, Gojo, did you forget that tonight was our anniversary? Or did you just not give a damn?”

He exhaled sharply, finally looking at you. “Of course, I didn’t forget—”

“Then where the hell were you?” you yelled, the calm slipping away completely. “Do you have any idea how long I waited for you? I sat there for three hours, hoping—praying—that you’d walk through that door, that maybe you got caught up in something, that you’d call—” Your voice cracked, eyes burning. “But you didn’t.”

Gojo pinched the bridge of his nose. “It wasn’t intentional, alright? Time slipped away, and before I knew it—”

“Bullshit.”

His head snapped up at your accusation, and for the first time tonight, there was something sharp in his gaze. “Excuse me?”

Your chest heaved as you took a step closer. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe that you just ‘lost track of time.’ You chose to ignore me. You chose to be somewhere else instead of here with me. So tell me, Gojo—who were you with?”

His expression darkened. “Don’t do this.”

“Who the hell were you with?”

“I told you,” he said, his voice dropping dangerously low. “A friend.”

Your heart pounded so loudly it was deafening. You weren’t even sure what you wanted him to say anymore. The doubt, the fear, the paranoia had already crept in, poisoning your thoughts. “You’re cheating on me, aren’t you?”

Gojo’s head snapped toward you so fast it was dizzying. “What?”

Your breathing was ragged now, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “You don’t care anymore, do you? You don’t even want to be here! Every time I try to reach you, it’s like you’re slipping away, like you’re just waiting for the right moment to—”

Gojo’s jaw clenched. “Don’t.”

“—to leave me.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Gojo stared at you, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—those piercing, beautiful blue eyes—held something dark. Something cold. And then he scoffed. “You’re being paranoid.”

The words stung more than they should have. “I love you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “But I’m so scared you’re going to walk away one day and never look back.”

Gojo exhaled sharply, looking away as if he couldn’t handle the sight of you breaking in front of him. “I told you—I was out with a friend. That’s it.”

But you weren’t convinced. Not when he refused to meet your gaze. Not when he had smiled so easily at everyone else but barely looked at you these days. The insecurity, the fear, the loneliness—they all bubbled over until you couldn’t stop yourself. “You don’t love me anymore, do you?”

That was the final straw. Gojo’s entire posture tensed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “For fuck’s sake, is that what you want to hear?” His voice was sharp, edged with something dangerously close to rage. “That I don’t love you? That I don’t care? That I’d rather be anywhere else but here, listening to you lose your mind over something that isn’t even real?”

Your breath hitched, but he wasn’t done.

“You knew what you were getting into when you got with me,” he continued, voice colder than you had ever heard it. “You knew my life isn’t normal. That I can’t always be here when you want me to be. But instead of understanding that, you throw a tantrum and act like I’ve betrayed you.”

Your hands shook. “I just wanted one night. One night where you put me first.”

Gojo let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Then maybe you should’ve been with someone else.”

The words hit like a dagger straight to the chest, but what he said next twisted it even deeper.

“Maybe you should just go back to that shithole in Kyoto you came from.”

The room spun. Everything went silent. You stared at him, your heart shattering into a million unfixable pieces. Gojo’s lips parted slightly, like he had just realized what he said, but he didn’t take it back. He just stood there, staring at you, waiting for you to react.

A broken laugh escaped your lips, but it wasn’t amused. It was the sound of something inside you breaking. “I see,” you whispered.

Gojo stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to stand tall even as your entire world collapsed around you. “I hope she was worth it.”

Your mom muttered something under her breath as she laid out the dishes on the table. She wasn’t too mad about you inviting Gojo on her account. She liked him. He felt familiar, like he was already a part of the family. Surprisingly, Ren was home as well, and she had to instruct him to behave in front of the guest.

The doorbell rang, and you felt your breath hitch. You weren’t sure why you were nervous. Maybe it was the lingering tension from your last conversation with Gojo. Maybe it was the way he always seemed to unravel you without even trying. Your mom rushed past you to get the door.

“Hello, Satoru.” She hugged him. “How have you been?” she asked as she led him in.

“Good. Just got back from Tokyo yesterday.” He replied. His usual chirpiness was missing, and it irked you. His eyes landed on you, standing in your blue knitted dress, hair left open with a single pearl clip on one side.

You stared at him—crisp white shirt, navy blue pants, and a matching long coat. “Hi,” you said nervously.

“Hi. How are you feeling?” he asked, hanging his coat on the coat rack and folding up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Better.” You smiled and had to steady yourself.

“This is Ren.” You motioned to your brother, who was already sitting at the table, solving a Sudoku puzzle from his book. “My brother”.

Ren got up and bowed respectfully at Gojo, making Gojo chuckle. “Hello, Ren. Nice to meet you.” Gojo smiled and walked over to you. “This is for you.” He handed you a bouquet of red roses and carnations. “For you.”

You took the bouquet wrapped in pastel pink paper. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”

He turned to your mother and handed her another bouquet—soft pink lilies mixed with white daisies. “And these are for you, ma’am.”

Your mother beamed. “Oh, Satoru, you didn’t have to! These are lovely. Come, sit. You must be tired.”

Gojo nodded, taking a seat at the dining table. You sat beside him, aware of how close your legs were to touching under the table. His presence felt heavier than before—calm, but serious.

“You look exhausted, Satoru,” your mom commented as she placed a bowl of warm soup in front of him. “Are you sleeping well?”

Gojo exhaled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Work’s been keeping me busy.”

“Hmm.” Your mother watched him carefully. “You need to take care of yourself. Stress isn’t good for the body.”

Gojo smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll try.”

You glanced at him, taking in the subtle dark circles under his usually bright eyes. He wasn’t just tired—he was worn down. Something in your chest tightened, but you kept your mouth shut, gripping your spoon a little too tightly.

“Gojo-san,” Ren suddenly spoke, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Are you my sister’s boyfriend?”

The question dropped like a bomb on the table.

Your breath caught, your fingers freezing mid-motion. Your mom turned to Gojo, slightly amused but saying nothing. The air between you and Gojo turned thick with tension, the heat creeping up your neck.

Gojo, calm as ever, leaned back slightly in his chair. He glanced at you, something unreadable in his gaze, before shifting to Ren. His lips parted just as the phone rang in the living room.

You jumped at the chance to escape. “I’ll get it.” Your voice came out a little too fast as you pushed your chair back, avoiding Gojo’s eyes as you walked out.

As soon as you were gone, Gojo turned back to Ren, his voice even but firm. “Not yet.”

Ren’s eyes widened slightly, looking between Gojo and where you had disappeared. Your mother chuckled, shaking her head as she refilled Gojo’s tea. “Really?”

Gojo let out a small breath, resting his forearms on the table. “Yes”

Your mother gave him a knowing look but said nothing more. The air in the room remained thick with something unspoken, lingering even as you re-entered, phone still in hand, oblivious to what had just been said.

“Y/N.” A familiar voice greeted you. “It’s Kento.”

You relaxed slightly. “Hey, Kento.”

Gojo’s head snapped toward you at how casually you said his name, the easy familiarity in your tone. He recognized the voice from where he sat. Nanami. His jaw clenched, irritation flashing through him as he absently tapped his fingers against the table. Your mother and Ren continued eating, oblivious to the tension radiating from him.

You kept the conversation brief before returning to the table. Your mom looked up at you. “Who was on the phone?”

“Kento,” you replied casually, sitting back down.

Gojo’s grip on his chopsticks tightened slightly. “Kento, huh?” His voice was smooth, but there was something sharp underneath it.

You met his gaze and held it, a flicker of challenge in your eyes. “Yes.”

He didn’t say anything else, but the energy between you both shifted. Your mother and Ren seemed oblivious, but the air between you and Gojo grew heavier with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

By the end of dinner, Gojo stood, thanking your mother. “Thank you for having me. The food was wonderful, as always.”

Your mom beamed. “Anytime, Satoru. You’re always welcome here.”

Ren nodded. “Yeah, thanks for coming.”

Your mom glanced at the clock before standing. “Alright, Ren, bedtime.”

“But—”

“No buts. Say goodnight.”

Ren sighed, giving Gojo a quick nod before heading inside. Your mom followed, leaving you and Gojo alone in the quiet house. You hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Tea?”

Gojo raised a brow, studying you. Then, after a beat, he nodded. “Sure.”

Two of you sat down in the living room with two cups of tea on the coffee table.

“What was Nanami saying?” Gojo’s voice was deceptively casual, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it.

You glanced at him, catching the flicker of something dark in his expression. Possessiveness? Jealousy? You weren’t sure, but it sent a thrill down your spine.

“Just checking up on me.” Your voice was soft, but you made no attempt to ease his mood.

Gojo hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Mmm. Nice of him.”

You raised a brow at his clipped tone. “Yeah.” After a beat, you cleared your throat. “How was your trip?” The second the words left your mouth, you regretted them.

Gojo exhaled, tilting his head slightly as he glanced at you. “Fruitful.”

You scoffed. “Fruitful? You just became the head of an entire clan, and all you have to say is fruitful?”

A slow smirk curled on his lips. “What else do you want me to say?” His voice dipped lower, smoother, teasing.

“I don’t know.” You crossed your arms. “Maybe something dramatic? Like—did you wear a fancy robe? Take a blood oath?”

Gojo chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Well… yeah. I did wear a robe.” His eyes traced your face, as if daring you to picture him in it. “Did take an oath. No blood involved… well. Some blood.” He said the last part in a hushed tone, leaning in slightly, his breath warm against your skin.

You swallowed hard. “Wow. Must be so cool.” You tried to sound nonchalant, but the way he was looking at you made your pulse race. “So, do you get a ton of bodyguards now?”

Gojo clicked his tongue. “Yeah, I do.” He scrunched his nose playfully, but his eyes were still watching you. “They’re here right now. Very discrete.”

You laughed but then frowned. “Wait, really?”

Gojo just grinned in response. It was moments like this—when he effortlessly turned tension into ease, when his presence felt like both a challenge and a comfort—that made you feel dizzy.

You hesitated before asking, “What happens now?” The weight of the question was obvious. “Now that you’re—you know.”

Gojo’s expression turned unreadable, his playful smirk slipping just slightly. “You know how it goes.” He sighed dramatically, looking off into the distance. “I’ll find a woman and marry her.”

Your chest tightened. “Really?” The word felt heavy on your tongue.

Gojo turned to face you, and then—that smirk. The one that made your knees weak. “Just kidding.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, then scoffed. “Rude” You smacked his arm playfully, but your heart was still hammering.

Gojo didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned in, towering over you, his voice dropping an octave. “That bothered you, didn’t it?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “No.”

He tilted his head, eyes dark with amusement. “Liar.” He sipped his tea slowly, letting the warm minty flavour linger on his tongue. “Is that a family photo?”. Gojo corked his head towards a frame near the TV.

“Mmhh. There is a whole album, do you want to see?”.

His smirk deepened. “Absolutely.”

You got up and retrieved a thick photo album from the shelf, the edges slightly worn from years of flipping through its pages. Settling back onto the couch, you placed it across your lap, the weight of it pressing down on your legs. Gojo shifted closer, his thigh brushing against yours, but neither of you moved away.

You flipped open the cover, revealing the first few pages—baby pictures, all round cheeks and chubby fingers. Gojo’s eyes softened as he took in each one, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Look at you,” he murmured, reaching out to trace a finger over one of the images, though he didn’t touch the page. “Tiny, cute, and full of trouble, I bet.”

You laughed. “Oh, absolutely. I was a menace.”

He hummed, eyes flicking between the pictures and you. “Still are.”

You turned the page, revealing a photo of you around seven years old, standing barefoot in a field, arms spread wide as you spun in circles. The sunlight caught in your hair, making it look almost golden.

Gojo felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest. He wondered—if he had a daughter one day, would she look like this? Would she have your eyes, your smile, the same unshakable spirit? Would she tilt her head in curiosity the way you did now? The thought gave him hope. Because it wasn’t just a passing fantasy. It was an image so vivid, so natural, that it felt inevitable. His fingers twitched against the cushion, resisting the urge to reach out, to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re staring,” you murmured, turning another page.

Gojo blinked, tearing his gaze away. “Just trying to picture you as a little gremlin running around.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Sure”. He smirked.

The room had fallen into a comfortable silence as the pages turned, the weight of the album balanced between you. Gojo let his eyes wander across each picture, taking in every version of you that had existed before he met you.

But something nagged at him. He hadn't seen a single baby picture of Ren. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now. “What about Ren? I didn’t see any baby pictures of him.”

The question seemed innocent enough, but the way you suddenly tensed, the way your fingers froze mid-turn, made Gojo realize he might have stepped on something sensitive. For a few seconds, you didn’t say anything. The air between you shifted. Gojo’s stomach clenched. Had he pushed too far?

Then, you exhaled, your voice quieter than before. “Ren is my half-brother.”

Gojo blinked, watching you carefully. You still weren’t looking at him, your gaze fixed on the album though you weren’t really seeing it anymore.

“My dad cheated on my mom when I was twelve,” you continued, your tone careful, controlled, like you were picking each word with precision, like this was something you had learned to say without breaking. “One day, he just… showed up with Ren. Said his birth mom had left him and that we had to take him in.”

Gojo’s jaw tightened.

“It was hard. My mom—God, she tried so hard. But I hated him, you know?” You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I was a kid. I didn’t understand. I just knew that my dad had ruined everything, and now there was this little 4 year old kid in our house, and everything revolved around him.”

Gojo didn’t say anything. He let you talk.

“I blamed Ren for so long. I hated him because hating my dad was harder. My mom was holding everything together by a thread, and I—I just made it worse.” You swallowed, blinking quickly. “But then, one day, I realized it wasn’t his fault. He was just a baby. He didn’t ask for any of this.”

Your voice wavered slightly, and Gojo felt something twist deep inside him.

“And then—” you hesitated, taking a shaky breath. “Then my dad left too. Just packed up and went to be with Ren’s birth mom.”

Gojo’s hand clenched into a fist against his thigh. He kept his expression neutral, but inside, something was burning.

“Since then, it’s always been the three of us. Me, my mom, and Ren.” You finally turned to look at him, your eyes shimmering under the warm glow of the lamp. “I love them more than anything in the world. I wouldn’t let anyone destroy this world we have built”

Your voice cracked slightly on the last word, and before Gojo even realized what he was doing, he moved. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in before you could protest. You stiffened for half a second, then melted into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder. Gojo held you close, his fingers tightening slightly against your arm and in his mind, something shifted.

Because in another life—one he barely allowed himself to remember—he hadn’t even asked about this. Hadn’t even tried to know. In that timeline, he had been selfish, cruel. He had never wondered about your past, about the people you cherished. He had been too wrapped up in himself to care. But this was all you had. Your family. The only constants in your life after everything had crumbled. He swore, in that moment, that he would protect all three of you with his life. No matter what.

You straightened up, wiping the lingering dampness from your cheeks. The weight in your chest was still there, but lighter now, like you had let go of something that had been pressing down on you for too long. You glanced at Gojo, who was still watching you, his eyes softer than you had ever seen them.

“What about you?” you asked, your voice quieter now. “What was your childhood like?”

Gojo leaned back slightly, his fingers drumming idly against his knee. He hesitated for a moment, as if he was choosing his words carefully, before finally answering.

“Lonely.”

The word hung in the air between you.

“I didn’t have any siblings. My cousins treated me differently because I was the supposed ‘heir’ to the clan. It wasn’t like your kind of family, where people actually cared about each other. Everything was… calculated.”

You stayed silent, listening.

“My mom was the best thing in my life, though.” His lips curled into a soft, almost melancholic smile. “She was my only friend when I was little. My comfort, my confidant. She made things feel normal, even when they weren’t.”

His expression darkened slightly as he continued. “My father was… different. Our relationship was always formal. He was the head of the clan first and my father second. He did everything in his power to make sure I was ‘ready’ to take over.”

Your fingers curled slightly against the fabric of your dress. “Was he… strict?”

Gojo exhaled sharply. “Strict is putting it lightly.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “He treated me like a tool. A legacy to maintain, not a son. I think, in his mind, that was just how it was supposed to be.”

Your heart clenched.

Then Gojo’s gaze dropped slightly, his next words barely above a whisper. “My mom was the only grounding force I had. She kept me sane.”

A strange feeling washed over you. You had never heard him speak about his mother before—not like this.

“Then, a year ago…” He hesitated, his fingers curling into a fist against his knee. “She passed away.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Satoru…”

“She took her own life” The word was sharp, bitter. He didn’t look at you. “She couldn’t take it anymore. My father’s abuse. The neglect.The clan politics .I was too busy with work to see it. Too caught up in everything else to recognize the signs.”

Your stomach twisted.

“By the time I realized…” He scoffed, shaking his head. “It was too late.”

A heavy silence followed. You could see it now, the quiet grief buried under all his usual arrogance and charm. The regret that clung to him like a shadow. Slowly, you reached out and squeezed his hand gently.

Gojo blinked, as if pulled from his thoughts. Then he chuckled softly, though there was no real amusement in it. “Look at me,” he muttered. “Didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

You moved closer without thinking, your fingers brushing against his cheek. There was a single tear there, barely visible in the dim light. “You’re not alone,” you whispered, your touch lingering.

Gojo froze.

“You have me.” Your voice was steady, certain. “And Suzume, Maya, and Hitoshi.” You gave him a small, teasing smile. “Maybe even Nanami.”

Gojo let out a soft, genuine laugh at that, shaking his head. “Now that’s a stretch.”

You smiled, but your hand was still on his cheek, your thumb lightly tracing over his skin. The air between you shifted, something warmer, heavier settling in.

You spent the rest of the night sitting on the couch and talking. The space between the two of you had reduced and for a moment both of you forgot that you were in a different timeline. You were sitting shoulder to shoulder, slightly turned towards each other. Fingers playing a game of tag in between. The conversation flowed from school crushes to childhood accidents to favorite ice cream and weird food habits. 

“What’s that?”. You frowned as you pointed a golden hue on the ceiling.

Gojo looked up and chuckled, “Sun?”. He checked his watch, “It’s 5:30 AM Y/n”.

“What?!”. You laughed in disbelief. 

The two of you stared at each other, neither wanting to end this. Gojo smiled, “Do you want to go for a coffee?”.

“I haven’t even brushed my teeth”.

“Neither have I. I won’t tell if you don’t”. He winked.

You grabbed your coat from the armrest, “Let’s go”.

Gojo stretched his arms when the two of you stepped out of the house. “It’s a beautiful morning”.

“Where are we going?”. You asked.

“Somewhere special”. Gojo smiled and took your hand in his and smiled to himself when you didn’t pull back.

The drive to the secret cafe was beautiful. The conversation didn’t stop. The car was filled with laughter, flirty remarks, eye rolls, and love. Gojo stopped the car near the shore next to a small cafe. “Why don’t you wait at the bench and I will be back?”. Gojo asked.

You nodded and made your way to the small picnic table. Seashells and sand crunched under your foot. The wind carried the scent of the sea, salty and crisp, as you sat on the bench, waiting for Gojo. The anticipation curled in your stomach, an unfamiliar yet thrilling feeling. You watched as he strolled back towards you, two cups of coffee in hand, his ever-present smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His silver hair was tousled slightly by the breeze, strands falling over his eyes, but you could still feel his gaze on you—intent, hungry, amused.

“Here,” he murmured, handing you a cup before settling beside you, thighs just barely brushing.

The warmth of the cup seeped into your palms, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating off Gojo. His presence was suffocating yet intoxicating, a constant push and pull. You took a sip, eyes flickering to him as he did the same. His fingers drummed against the paper cup, his body leaning ever so slightly toward you, like a magnet being drawn in.

“You keep looking at me like that,” he mused, turning his head, “I might think you actually like me.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “And what if I do?” The words slipped before you could stop them. You cursed yourself mentally for being so – casual.

Gojo froze for half a second before his grin widened, something mischievous yet unmistakably tender lurking beneath. “Then I’d say…” He tilted his head, voice lowering. “About damn time.”

Your pulse spiked. Desperate to shake the tension crackling between you, you cleared your throat and gestured toward the water. “Do you think it’s cold?”

Gojo hummed, considering for a moment before flashing his signature grin. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Without hesitation, he pulled off his coat, tossing it onto the bench before reaching down to untie his shoes. You followed suit, the adrenaline already kicking in. The moment your feet hit the damp sand, Gojo grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the waves. A laugh bubbled out of you, breathless and full, as you sprinted into the ocean.

The water was freezing, but neither of you cared. You gasped as a wave rushed over your feet, and Gojo took the opportunity to splash water at you, the droplets cool against your warm skin. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” you warned, retaliating with a splash of your own.

The playful war escalated, laughter echoing across the shore. Gojo suddenly lunged forward, hands gripping your waist as he effortlessly lifted you into the air. You shrieked, clutching onto his shoulders as he spun you around, the world blurring into a dizzy mix of sky and sea.

When he finally set you down, the ocean lapping at your waist, he didn’t let go. His arms remained wrapped around you, fingers pressing lightly against your back. The air between you changed—charged, electric.

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, golden rays casting a warm glow over everything. It felt like even the universe was pausing, holding its breath for what was about to happen.

Gojo hesitated, his grip tightening ever so slightly, eyes locked onto yours. You didn’t give him the chance to second-guess.

Closing the distance, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that started slowly. hesitantly, but quickly turned into something more—something desperate, full of longing, full of unspoken words. His hands slid up your back, pulling you flush against him, as if he needed to memorize the way you felt against him. The taste of salt lingered between you, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was this—him. You could feel the weight being lifted off your chest. You were ready to fall again. With him. 

Gojo had to control himself. His body shuddered with each kiss. He thought about all the time he didn’t kiss you and kissed you harder to make up for it. He thought about all the time he pushed you away, and pulled you closer to make up for it. You were here, in his arms, etched into his soul. You were not just his soulmate, you were his soul, his life force. God, he didn’t want to let you go. Didn’t want this moment to end. He had done it. He had erased the past, carved out a new future, a better future. Gojo sighed between the kisses. He had waited so long for this, and this was perfect. You were perfect. You were his. He has found you again and he will find you in every life.

When you finally pulled away, your breath mingling in the space between you, Gojo let out a quiet, shaky laugh. His forehead pressed against yours, his fingers ghosting over your jaw.

“I’m not letting you run away this time,” he murmured before leaning in again.

You looked up, the morning sun casted a soft golden glow over his face. With every second in his arms, the past disappeared bit by bit. You stared into his eyes and smiled, you saw love. Pure love. You realized that love was not black and white, it was golden like the morning sun on his face. You didn’t know whether you were supposed to choose him in this life but you did. Whatever happened from here on will be on you and you won’t have any regrets.

“I am in love with you”. Gojo whispered. “Madly. Obsessively.You have possessed me mind and soul .I– I can’t even explain it bu-”.

“I love you”. You cut him off and chuckled. You realized that love isn’t black and white. It can’t be explained by logic or rationale. If someone knew about your history with Gojo they would warn you to stay away from him. But right now, right here, in this moment you were in love with him. Maybe your love was the color of his hair in the morning sun.. golden.

He had offered to drop you home but you were entirely too drenched to go home or stay out so here you were, the elevator ride up to Gojo’s penthouse was silent, but the tension in the air was anything but. Your skin still tingled from the saltwater, from his touch, from the way his hands had held onto you just a little longer than necessary. Every glance he stole, every brush of his fingers against yours as you both stood side by side—it was intoxicating. 

The moment the doors slid open, you stepped into his home, and your breath hitched. Gojo’s penthouse was nothing short of stunning. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered an unobstructed view of the city, the skyline stretching endlessly before you. Soft, ambient lighting cast a warm glow over the sleek, modern decor—deep, navy blue accents contrasting against the cool marble floors. The open space felt effortless, luxurious without being ostentatious.

“You like it?” Gojo’s voice was casual, but there was something behind it—something expectant.

You turned to him, lips parted in awe. “Gojo, this is… breathtaking.”

He grinned, pleased. “I do have excellent taste.”

He slipped his fingers around your wrist, his touch gentle but deliberate, and led you toward the bedroom. The second you stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The room was dimly lit, the city lights filtering in through the sheer curtains, casting soft patterns on the dark wooden floors. The bed was massive, covered in plush sheets that looked entirely too inviting.

And then there was him. Standing close. Too close. Your pulse quickened as he reached up, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face. His fingers barely skimmed your skin, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re staring,” you whispered, trying to steady your breathing.

Gojo smirked, his voice dropping lower. “Hard not to.”

His eyes burned into yours—blue flames in the dim light. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the restrained intensity behind his playful demeanor. He always had that carefree smile, that teasing attitude—but right now? Right now, there was something hungry in the way he looked at you.

You swallowed hard. “We should probably—”

But before you could finish, he closed the distance.

His lips crashed onto yours, hot and desperate, his hands immediately finding your waist and pulling you against him. You gasped into the kiss, fingers fisting into the fabric of his shirt as he backed you up against the edge of the bed.

The kiss was different from the one on the beach—this wasn’t slow, wasn’t careful. This was years of tension unraveling, of lingering glances finally finding their release. His grip tightened, fingers pressing into your hips, as if making sure you were real. He kissed you like he was starving. Like he had been waiting for this moment forever.

Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned against your lips, the sound sending heat pooling in your stomach. He deepened the kiss, tilting your chin up, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue.

Gojo pulled away just enough to murmur, his breath hot against your skin, “Tell me you want this.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

His lips were on yours again in an instant. You didn’t waste any time as your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and you hastily removed them, breaking some in the process but you didn’t care and neither did he. He took his shirt off in one swift motion and then slowly scrunched up your dress slowly, tracing burning lines from your knee to your thighs to your waist to your ribs and then your soaking dress was on the floor. He broke the kiss and stared down at you like a man possessed. “You are breathtaking”. He whispered before grabbing you by your waist and gently lowering you on the bed. 

His mouth found your neck and he started leaving wet trails from the top of your neck to your shoulder to your clavicle. Your whole body ached in desperation. When he reached the heavenly place between your breasts he looked up at you with hungry eyes. Then without breaking eye contact he snapped your bra open and tossed it aside. His mouth found one of your breasts while his hand slid painfully slow down your stomach and slid under the thin strap of your lace thong. Gojo knew your body and he was going to use the knowledge to his advantage. 

His finger applied gentle pressure on your clit while he sucked and licked your breast. Your eyes rolled back as the pressure started building. You threw your back and let out a sinful moan which sent Gojo to heaven. Your one hand threaded through his hair while the other gripped the headboard as you moved slowly letting out one sinful moan after the other. Gojo took the chance and increased the pressure on your clit and that sent jolts of electricity through your body. He switched to the other breast as he slid his fingers lower and gently put them in your hole halfway and brought it out.In and out. In and out .He was making you go crazy and he knew it and he loved it. He repeated the same motion again and again. Each time going a little further.

“Fuck”. You groaned.

Gojo lifted his head up and began kissing down your stomach. The taste of your skin on his tongue made his head spin. He was high on your touch, your taste, and he hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet. His hard on was pressing painfully against his black pants but he didn’t care. He wanted to take his time. He wanted you to only think of him. He wanted to be the only thing occupying your mind. 

With slow deliberate motion he pulled down the lace thong  and threw it in a  corner. Once he was between your legs he looked up, you balanced yourself on your elbow and looked down at him. He could have busted right there at the view of you. Your soaked hair falling perfectly across your face, your eyes locked into his, challenging him to go ahead, your lips swollen all credits to him.

Your breath hitched, his pupils blown wide as he smirked before dipping his head lower between your legs. He licked one long strip and you were gone. You threw your head back and moaned. Gojo flicked your clit with his tongue a few times, teasing you, before bringing his mouth onto it and sucking in sharple making your body shudder. He continued sucking on your clit as he put two fingers inside of you and curled them up at just the right time.

Your body moved with his motion, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. Your back arched as your hand found itself in his hair again and your hips moved with his fingers in a perfect tandem.

“I– I’m going to-Ah”.

Gojo didn’t reply but got aggressive with his masterful maneuvers. He groaned and licked and sucked like a man starved being served his favourite meal. Within minutes you were gushing all over his fingers as your body shuddered. Your vision went white and your ears rang. 

Gojo sat up on his knees between your legs. He looked down at you and sucked his two fingers and groaned. That view made you twitch. He came up, leaning on his elbow on your side. “We can stop now if you want”. He spoke with his lips moving with each word on yours. 

“N– no”. You breathe out as you pull him by the back of his neck for a kiss. 

That’s all he needed to head. He broke the kiss and took his pants and boxers off together before climbing on top again. “Are you sure?”. He asked.

Your hands moved from his shoulder to stomach and to his cock. You rubbed him slowly and Gojo closed his eyes in bliss. “Yes”. You whispered near his ear as you kissed his neck. 

“You’re teasing me”. Gojo said while he moved in your hands.

“So?”. You asked, feigning innocence.

“You are going to be the death of me”. He said. But then his demeanor shifted. He was no longer in a mood to tease and joke. He wanted to make you his. He grabbed your wrist and then the other one in one hand and pinned it above your head. “I’ve waited for you. For a lifetime”, He gave a devilish smirk as he slowly bent your right leg till your knees were above your waist and positioned himself between your legs, “You are mine now y/n l/n. All mine”. 

His words, his touch, his smell, all of him made you dizzy in the best way possible. You felt him probing at your entrance. Like he was testing the waters. Then he entered slowly. Inch by inch. Passing each ring of muscle painfully slowly. Your breath hitched once he was fully inside.

Gojo groaned once he was fully in. This is where he belonged. He bent over you and started thrusting slowly. He moaned when you clenched around him. Oh you were so perfect. So perfect for him. With each thrust he felt closer to the god itself.

“Fuck– Satoru!”. You moaned as you bit your lips.

“Yes, love?”. Gojo said as he pecked your lips gently. “You are so beautiful. You are divine”.

His words made you clench. Gojo didn’t miss that sign as he picked up his pace. “Oh god love! You are mine. Okay? All mine. You’re so perfect!”. Gojo grunted as he brought his lips to yours and picked up his pace.

The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with grunts and moans. 

No one had ever had you like Gojo did. He knew how to push you over the edge and pull you back. He still had that skill. With each thrust you felt closer to him than ever before. It felt like your souls were merging together somewhere between the light sheen of sweat on your skin.

“I love you y/n”/ Gojo said as he continued thrusting but staring right in your eyes. “Fuck I love you so much”.

Your breath hitched as the knot grew tighter and tighter. “I– I’m– clo–close”.

“Cum on my cock love. It’s all yours. Fuck! All yours. Only yours!”. You groaned. His own end is not too farr of sight. As you spasmed uncontrollably around him, Gojo couldn’t hold himself any longer.

“Where can-”. He asked between broken moans.

“In!”. You screamed.

Your command turned his vision white. You came together as Gojo fucked you right through yours. You felt his cock twitch inside you as he came and for a minute none of you said anything.

Gojo slept right next to you and pulled you in his embrace. “You okay?”.

You nodded, still hazy from the crushing orgasm you had. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up”. Gojo said as he scooped you in his arms and carried you to the bathroom.

Your muscles relaxed as the two of you settled in the warm bath. “We have to go to work”.

Gojo chuckled behind you. He looked down at you lying on his chest, “Don’t worry about it. I am sure your boss would understand”.

You chuckled, “I have to go home to get changed though”. You were about to get up but Gojo pulled you back in.

“Don’t worry about it either. Just stay here with me. I don't want to spend another second without you”. Gojo spoke against your neck.

Needless to say that you didn’t have to worry about anything. As you stepped out of the bath a cloth rack with multiple outfits was waiting for you. Of course. 

“You know, we don’t have to go to work today? We can stay here all day”. Gojo whispered as he hugged you from behind.

“But I do. I have an important meeting with Maya about the new centre”. You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck, “Besides, I don’t want to stay in all day”

Gojo groaned and buried his face, “You’re mean”.

You arrived in the office an hour before lunch and immediately asked Maya to meet you in your office. You had given Gojo another chance but this time was going to be different. 

The knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. "Come in," you called.

Maya stepped in, taking a single glance at you before freezing in place. Her eyes raked over you, from the designer blouse to the perfectly fitted slacks and the subtle yet noticeable diamond bracelet on your wrist. Then, with an exaggerated whistle, she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Okay, who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?" she said, eyes glinting with amusement. "You look different. You look... rich."

You rolled your eyes, but a laugh slipped out. "Shut up, Maya."

"I'm serious!" She walked up, inspecting you like you were a painting in a museum. "The hair? The glow? The ridiculously well-tailored outfit? This is not your usual 'I barely had time this morning' look. What the hell happened?"

You took a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and gestured for her to sit. Maya raised an eyebrow but obeyed, settling onto the chair across from your desk.

"Okay," you started, pressing your palms against the desk. "Promise you won’t freak out?"

Maya narrowed her eyes. "Now I have to freak out."

You exhaled, then finally let the words spill out. "Gojo came over for dinner."

Maya’s lips parted slightly, but she held back whatever quip was on the tip of her tongue.

"We spent the whole night talking on my couch," you continued, feeling your face heat up at the memory. "We talked about everything—our childhoods, school, the stupid things we did growing up. It was... nice." You smiled to yourself before shaking your head. "And in the morning, he took me to this beautiful beachside café, just the two of us, and—"

Maya sat up straighter, her eyes wide. "And?"

You hesitated, but there was no point in hiding it. "We kissed."

Maya gasped dramatically, grabbing one of the throw pillows and smacking you with it. "Finally!" she shrieked.

You groaned, pushing the pillow away. "Let me finish, you menace."

Maya made a zipping motion over her lips, but the giddy excitement in her eyes was impossible to ignore.

You bit your lip, suddenly shy. "After that, we went back to his place and... things happened"

Maya’s mouth fell open. "Oh.my.God."

You buried your face in your hands. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Maya cackled. "Like my best friend is finally getting dicked down by the richest, hottest man in the country who also happens to be the head of the most influential family?!" She threw her hands up. "Because that's exactly how I'm looking at you!"

You groaned again, face burning. "Maya, please."

"No, no, I need details—actually, no, I don’t. I can already tell by the way you’re blushing like a teenager that it was good." She smirked. "But, uh, explain the new wardrobe, Miss Fancy Pants."

You sighed, shaking your head. "I had to clean up and I told him that I should head home and he said not to worry about it and the next thing I know Gojo got a whole wardrobe ready for me." You gestured at your outfit. "That's why I look like this."

Maya stared at you, completely silent for a beat. Then she leaned back, whistling again. "So let me get this straight. Gojo Satoru, the Gojo Satoru, has been in love with you since the day he stepped foot in this office, and now that you’re finally giving him a chance, he’s spoiling the absolute shit out of you?" She crossed her legs, looking deeply satisfied. "Damn”

You fiddled with the bracelet on your wrist, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. "He’s not—"

"Oh, please," Maya cut you off. "Rich men don’t just casually fill an entire wardrobe with custom-fitted designer clothes for someone unless they’re whipped." She smirked. "And Gojo? That man is obsessed with you."

You looked away, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

Maya grinned. "I can’t wait to see where this goes."

“That’s why I need you. No one can know about this. I want to take things slow”.

Maya smiled, “That man is obsessed with you, What-”.

“Stop saying that. He is not obsessed. We are just two people who like each other”.

“You want to test my theory?”.

“I don’t want to test anything Maya”. You sighed.

“Well I do. I will show you just how crazy he is”. Maya’s voice trailed off as she began typing something on her phone. “Now we wait”.

“Maya this isn’t funny”. 

“Look, I know he is a bit too much”, She said keeping her phone aside, “and it is totally fair if you want to take things slow but you need to tell him that. Because from what I have observed I am sure he is already picking out wedding destinations”. Maya sipped from her stanley. “Whatever you do, just know that I am always here for you”.

“Will you always be on my side? No matter how many favors Gojo does for you?”.

Maya reached across the table and put her hand on yours. “Always” A knock on the door made Maya smirk, “Come in!”. She ordered.

A man with two smoothies walked in. “For Ms.Y/n”, He bowed and put it on the table before taking his leave.

“What is this?”. You asked.

“I just texted Gojo to ask where I could find the best green smoothie as you were looking a little tired and I wanted to surprise you. Viola”. Maya grabbed one of the smoothies and got up. “That man is obsessed. I am here if you want to talk. But give him an honest chance”. She shrugged and walked out.

You stared at the smoothie. How can you tell Maya that this is how it starts. He makes you feel special and then hurts you in the end? Tears rolled down your cheek as you hid your face in your hand. Last 24 hours have been some of the best moments you have shared with Gojo. But you were scared. Terrified. What if this was history repeating itself? What if you had set yourself on the same path you had tried to escape?

You thought about everything that was different, This Gojo was more attentive. More attuned to your needs. More present. You thought about your first date with Gojo in another life. It was at a club. Sure it ended the same way as this one did but this seemed different somehow. Even the way he held you felt different. You took out a tissue and dabbed it over your eyes to get rid of the tears. Maybe Maya was right, maybe he did deserve an honest chance. But what if you can’t escape this time? Who could you even tell about the other life?

The cafeteria was buzzing with chatter, but at your table, the atmosphere was even louder—at least emotionally.

You sat beside Gojo, your tray untouched, while Maya and Juno sat across from the two of you. Gojo was casually sipping on his iced coffee, his sunglasses resting on the table, looking effortlessly unbothered. But Maya? She had that look—the one that told you she was up to something. And she was. Because Maya knew. She knew everything. And Gojo didn’t know that she knew.

You had barely lifted your fork when Maya leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, Gojo,” she started, voice light and way too innocent, “what did you do yesterday?”

Gojo barely spared her a glance as he stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork. “Nothing much.” He chewed thoughtfully. “Had a good night. Spent time with someone special.”

You choked on your drink. Gojo immediately turned to you, rubbing your back with concern. “You okay?”

You nodded frantically, coughing into your napkin while Maya bit back a laugh. Juno looked between all of you, clearly sensing that something was going on.

“Someone special?” Maya drawled, raising an eyebrow. “That’s interesting. Who’s the lucky person?”

Gojo glanced at her, then at you. You shot him a warning look. Do not say my name.

But Gojo, being Gojo, just smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Maya grinned, undeterred. “Oh, I would.” She rested her chin on her palm, feigning curiosity. “Actually, I’ve been wondering about something.”

Gojo leaned back, stretching his arms over the back of his chair. “Go on.”

Maya took a casual sip of her drink, then, with the same innocent expression, asked, “What kind of woman do you like?”

Gojo blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Huh?”

Maya shrugged. “You know, what’s your type?”

Juno stifled a laugh, catching on to what was happening.

Gojo rubbed his chin, considering. “Hmm. I guess I like strong-willed women. Smart, independent, someone who challenges me.” His lips curved into a small smile. “Someone who keeps me on my toes.”

Maya hummed. “Interesting. And what kind of man are you when you're in a relationship?”

You mentally screamed at her.

Gojo chuckled, completely unaware that he was walking straight into a trap. “Oh, I’m great in relationships,” he said smoothly. “Very devoted. Very affectionate. I spoil my girl.”

Maya’s grin widened. “Oh, I bet you do.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if something was clicking into place. He glanced at you. “Why do I feel like I’m being set up?”

You stabbed your fork into your salad, avoiding his gaze. “No idea.”

Maya continued, undeterred. “So, does this special person know just how devoted you are?”

Gojo tilted his head. “Maya…” His tone was laced with suspicion.

Maya’s smirk was practically evil now. She leaned forward. “Do I know this special person?”

Gojo finally caught on. His eyes flicked between you and Maya, realization dawning. He looked at Maya. Then at you. Then back at Maya. Then back at you.

You could see the exact moment it hit him. His entire expression shifted, mouth parting slightly before his eyes widened.

“Oh my God,” he breathed, turning fully to you. “You told her?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I had to tell someone!”

Gojo blinked rapidly, then turned back to Maya, completely scandalized. “And you let me embarrass myself?”

Maya burst into laughter. “Oh, I encouraged it.”

Juno, who had been watching the chaos unfold with amusement, finally spoke. “This is the best lunch we’ve had in weeks.”

Gojo shook his head, running a hand down his face. Then, after a moment, he grinned. That slow, mischievous, dangerous grin.

He turned to you, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that always made your stomach flip. “If you’re telling secrets, sweetheart, maybe I should tell some too.”

Your eyes widened. “Gojo. No.”

He smirked, leaning closer. “Like how you looked so good in my shirt today morning—” You kicked him under the table, face burning, while Maya and Juno howled with laughter.

The office was quiet, the last remnants of the day settling into a comfortable stillness as you packed up your things. You sighed, stretching your arms above your head, ready to leave when a familiar presence filled the doorway.

Gojo leaned against the frame, looking entirely too comfortable in his usual casual yet effortlessly cool stance. His sharp blue eyes watched you with an unreadable expression, his lips curving into that lazy, almost-too-charming smile.

"Need a ride home?" he asked, voice smooth, casual—too casual.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, a part of you wanting to say yes, to spend more time with him after everything that had happened between you two recently. But another part of you—one that desperately needed some quiet—held you back.

"Thanks, but no," you said, forcing a small smile. "I have dinner with my family tonight."

Gojo's brows lifted, just barely. "Family dinner, huh?" He clicked his tongue, and walked over to you, "That’s a shame. I was hoping for some alone time with my favorite person."

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, even as your heart did a stupid little flip. "You'll survive."

Gojo opened his mouth, undoubtedly to say something teasing, but before he could, another voice cut in.

"Are you excited for tomorrow?" You turned, finding Nanami entering your office, his usual composed demeanor in place. He held his briefcase in one hand, his gaze steady as he addressed you.

Gojo’s entire body stiffened. His head turned slightly, the barely-there twitch of his jaw betraying his irritation. Fucking Nanami. The moment had been perfect, just the two of you, and of course Nanami had to walk in and ruin it.

You, however, didn’t seem to notice the shift in Gojo’s energy. Your face lit up as you nodded. "Yeah, I can't wait!"

Gojo frowned. "Wait—what are you excited about?"

You glanced at him, as if realizing he hadn't been in the loop. "Oh, I'm going on a hiking trip to Mt. Hiei tomorrow. I want to see the marathon monks."

Gojo blinked. "Hiking?"

"Yeah," you said, grinning. "Nanami even said I’m allowed to sing at the top of my lungs on the way there."

Nanami exhaled sharply. "I did not say that. I said you could sing, but I made no promises about my patience."

You smirked. "Which means I’m absolutely taking full advantage of this rare opportunity."

Nanami sighed, rubbing his temple. "I’m already regretting this."

“No Backsies!”. You chuckled.

Gojo watched the two of you banter, something unpleasant settling in his chest. You looked too at ease with Nanami, too playful, too… comfortable.

And it bothered him. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned back against your desk, arms crossed, forcing a casual expression as he watched you laugh at something Nanami muttered under his breath. Gojo hated it. Hated that Nanami could get those easy smiles out of you, that he could make you look forward to something that he hadn’t been a part of.

Gojo spent the whole Saturday pacing around his living room. He kept checking his phone for a call or a text from you. Not that you had promised anything but you should contact him right? You were practically married now. His phone buzzed, you had posted an instagram story. He immediately tapped it open and regretted it. It was a selfie that you took with Nanami driving in the background with a smile. Singing on top of my lungs ontw to a beautiful hike! Thanks for keeping up with me @n.kento. 

He scoffed and threw his phone on the couch. 

You put your phone down and leaned back in the chair. “It is such a beautiful day”.

“It is”. Nanami smiled as he tapped his finger on the steering wheel. Something had been weighing on his heart and he didn’t know how to bring it up. 

“What’s on your mind?” you asked softly, watching him closely.

Nanami sighed, a heavy sound that carried years of resentment and buried pain. “It’s about Gojo.”

A pit formed in your stomach at the mere mention of the name. “Gojo? What about him?”

Nanami hesitated, his fingers curling into fists against the table as if he were trying to suppress the emotions threatening to surface. “There is something you need to know about him.”

The seriousness in his tone made you turn to him fully, lowering the volume of the song playing in the background. “What is it?”

He looked away, staring out into the darkness beyond the window as if searching for the right words. “Please don’t think that I am trying to smear his name. I am only sharing this so that you know why he and I can never get along.”

A chill ran through you. “Oh… did something happen between you two?”

Nanami took a deep breath, his jaw tightening before he finally spoke again. “Five years ago, I was working in Tokyo. In domain dynamics.”

Your breath hitched. You had no idea that Nanami had been part of domain dynamics before. That meant he had known Gojo long before everything else. The realization made your stomach churn.

“We were friends,” he continued. “Not close friends, but friends. I was in a relationship with a woman I had met at a café outside the office. Her name was Mishki.”

The name struck you like a dagger, reopening wounds you had long since tried to ignore. Mishki. The name brought with it memories that were best left buried. You remembered how close Gojo was with her, how he often left you behind just to go see her. You knew where this story was going, but you remained silent, afraid to hear the confirmation of your worst suspicions.

“I introduced Mishki to everyone, including Gojo. I took her to Gojo’s birthday at his penthouse. At that point, she and I had been together for two years...” Nanami paused, his fingers trembling slightly as he exhaled shakily. “That was my biggest mistake.”

Your heart clenched. You knew what was coming, but the weight of it still crushed you.

“All of us were drinking, talking, just… having fun,” Nanami continued, his voice quieter now, as if the memory itself drained him. “When it was time to go, I searched for her, but I couldn’t find her. I went around the penthouse… and I heard sounds.”

“Kento, you don’t have to—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s fine.” He gave you a sad, empty smile, one that did nothing to ease the pain radiating from him. “It was long ago.”

The silence between you stretched thin, fragile, ready to snap. And then he said the words you dreaded. “I found them in his bedroom.”

Your hands clenched into fists on your lap as your heart plummeted. You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? That you were sorry? That it wasn’t fair? None of it would change the past. None of it would take away the betrayal.

“I left immediately,” Nanami said, voice hollow. “But later on, I talked to her… to understand what happened. I really loved her, Y/N.”

The rawness in his voice nearly broke you.

“She told me that Gojo had offered her a position at the firm. A better position than mine. That, I didn’t mind.” He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But then she told me how Gojo really loved her. And that she loved him.”

Your chest tightened, your breath coming out in shallow puffs.

“I found out they had been talking for a while,” Nanami continued, voice now hoarse. “The worst part? Gojo knew how much I loved her. He—” Nanami swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he forced himself to continue. “He knew I was going to ask her to marry me.”

The weight of his words crashed over you like a tidal wave.

“Did you confront him?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yes. Yes, I did.” Nanami closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to block out the memory. “He laughed in my face and said Mishki was too good for me anyway. That she came from a rich family, was ambitious, and I… I was just me.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Oh god. Kento… I am so sorry.” You reached for his hand instinctively, tears rolling down your cheeks.”Did he at least apologize?”

Nanami chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. “You think he ever apologized? In return, he bought my company and made me his employee again.” He exhaled sharply. “Maybe he was right. I am just a no one. I don’t have money or power.”

“No.” Your voice was firm as you gripped his hand tightly. “You have a good heart. That is something that can’t be bought.”

Nanami blinked at you, as if unsure how to process your words. Then, slowly, he gave you a small, weary smile. “Thank you.”

Your heart ached for him. He had been through so much, suffered betrayals that no one should ever have to endure. And yet, despite everything, he remained kind. Strong. Good. 

The crisp mountain air filled your lungs as you took another deep breath, your excitement bubbling over as you took in the breathtaking view from the trail. Mt. Hiei stretched out before you in all its natural glory—rolling green slopes, mist curling around the trees like something out of a dream, and the distant sight of temple roofs peeking through the dense forest. The sounds of rustling leaves and birdsong made the entire experience feel almost sacred.

Nanami followed closely behind, his usual composed demeanor softened by the tranquility of nature. He had agreed to this trip mostly because of your enthusiasm, and while he had been looking forward to a peaceful hike, he found himself increasingly distracted.

By you.

You walked ahead of him, your steps light and filled with energy, your face glowing with excitement. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a golden hue over your skin, making you look almost ethereal. Every now and then, you would stop to admire a flower or point out something interesting—a particularly twisted tree, the way the moss covered the rocks like a soft blanket, or the distant silhouette of a monk walking along the trail.

Nanami should have been appreciating the beauty of nature, but his eyes kept straying to you.

And for the first time in a long time, he found himself wondering—had he been an idiot?

He had always been careful, always held himself back when it came to you. Because of Gojo. Because of the way Gojo always seemed to orbit around you, like you were the sun he couldn’t escape.

But watching you now, he wondered—had he given up too easily?

“Nanami, look!” you called out, turning toward him with a bright smile, your hair catching the wind. “You can see the whole valley from here!”

He stepped closer, his gaze flickering between the view and your expression. You were so happy, so alive out here.

And damn it, you were beautiful.

Before he could stop himself, he asked, “How are things between you and Gojo?”

Your smile faltered just a fraction—so subtle that if he hadn’t been watching you so closely, he might have missed it.

You hesitated, just for a second. You could have told him the truth. That you and Gojo had crossed lines that couldn’t be undone. That Gojo was no longer just a friend, no longer just a presence in your life but something more. But something inside you resisted.

“It’s… okay,” you finally said, voice measured, careful.

Nanami nodded slowly, processing your words. Okay. That wasn’t good. But it wasn’t bad either.

It meant there was still a chance.

Maybe Gojo hadn’t ruined everything for him just yet.

Gojo paced around his penthouse, one hand running through his already-messy hair, the other holding his phone as he FaceTimed with Shoko and Geto. His sunglasses were tossed onto the coffee table, his usually smug expression replaced by something bordering on pure frustration.

“She went hiking with Nanami,” Gojo huffed, practically seething. “Nanami.”

On the screen, Geto raised an eyebrow while Shoko exhaled dramatically, taking a long drag from her cigarette.

“So?” Shoko said lazily. “It’s just a hike.”

Gojo scoffed. “It’s not just a hike. It’s Mt. Hiei. That’s a romantic hike.”

Geto looked unimpressed. “Satoru, it’s a mountain.”

Gojo threw himself onto his couch, groaning loudly. “It’s not about the damn mountain! It’s about the fact that she went with him and not me.”

“You sound like a child,” Shoko muttered.

“I do not,” Gojo shot back. “I sound like someone whose girlfriend is spending the entire day with another man, probably laughing at all his stupid Nanami things.”

“Nanami things?” Geto repeated, amused.

“You know,” Gojo waved. “The deep voice. The brooding. The manners. Girls love that shit.”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “Maybe she just wanted some space, Gojo.”

Geto leaned back, folding his arms. “Yeah, I think that’s the real problem here.”

Gojo narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Geto sighed, choosing his words carefully. “Last time, you were obsessed with her, Satoru. And what happened?”

Gojo tensed.

“You drove her away,” Geto continued. “Maybe this time, you should try giving her some space instead of acting like a possessive idiot.”

Shoko nodded. “He’s right. You need to chill.Stop trying to dictate who she can spend time with”

Gojo scowled, sitting up straight. “I am chill.”

Geto and Shoko exchanged looks.

“No, you’re not,” they said in unison.

Gojo groaned, falling back against the couch. “You guys don’t get it. What if Nanami is trying to steal her from me?”

Geto sighed. “Then trust her to make her own choice.”

Gojo grumbled something under his breath, grabbing his phone and refreshing Instagram. Again. His stomach twisted at the first story. A selfie of you and Nanami, standing at the trailhead, both grinning. His jaw clenched. That should’ve been me. Another story. A video of you twirling around, arms spread wide, laughing as the wind played with your hair. Nanami’s voice could be heard in the background, saying something dry and unimpressed. Gojo hated it. Another story. A photo of a breathtaking view—but all Gojo saw was the fact that Nanami was in it, standing next to you.

Gojo tossed his phone onto the couch, rubbing his temples. “I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Shoko sighed. “For everyone’s sake, please don’t.”

Gojo had been staring at his phone for an hour now. His message sat there, unread.

Gojo: Are you home?

No reply. Not a single notification. He scrolled back to your Instagram stories, watching them again, his jaw tightening with each one. You had spent the entire day with Nanami, hiking, laughing, and taking in breathtaking views—without him. Now, an hour after your hike had ended, you still weren’t home? Gojo exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers tapping restlessly against the couch before he snapped and dialed Geto and Shoko on FaceTime again. The call connected almost immediately.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Shoko groaned when she saw his face. “Satoru, it’s been one hour. ONE.”

Geto sighed, already rubbing his temple. “What now?”

Gojo leaned forward, his frustration evident. “She’s not replying.”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “Maybe because she’s busy?”

Geto smirked. “Or maybe she’s just ignoring you.”

Gojo shot him a glare. “Not funny.”

“Actually, it’s very funny,” Geto muttered.

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, restless. “She always replies. But she’s been out with Nanami all day, and now she’s just—gone?” He scoffed. “What the hell are they even doing?”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “Maybe she just wanted to grab dinner after the hike?”

Gojo froze. Then his eyes widened in horror. “Oh my God,” he whispered, voice almost distant. “They’re at dinner together.”

“Uh—” Geto started, but Gojo was already spiraling.

“Why would they be at dinner?” Gojo’s voice grew sharper, paranoia seeping into his tone. “They were together all day, and now they need to prolong the date?”

“Date?” Shoko repeated.

Gojo ignored her. “What if he’s making a move on her right now?” His fingers clenched into a fist. “What if he’s trying to kiss her—”

Shoko and Geto groaned in unison. “For fuck’s sake,” Shoko muttered. “Nanami is not kissing her.”

“You don’t know that!” Gojo snapped.

Geto exhaled slowly. “Satoru, listen to me. She is not yours to control.” Gojo’s head snapped toward him, blue eyes dark with frustration. Geto’s expression didn’t waver. “If she wants to have dinner with anyone, she can.”

Gojo clenched his jaw. “Yeah, well, she should be having dinner with me.” Just then, his phone buzzed. Your name flashed across the screen.

Y/n: Hey, sorry, I just got home. Decided to grab dinner with Nanami after the hike.

Gojo froze. Then, slowly, he checked the time. 11:30 PM. His grip on his phone tightened. She was with him until now? Until almost midnight? “Oh, hell no,” Gojo muttered under his breath.

Geto and Shoko watched in exasperation as Gojo’s entire body tensed, his face twisting with barely-contained jealousy.

“Satoru,” Geto said, tone warning. “Do not do something stupid.”

Gojo’s mind was already racing, picturing exactly how the night had gone. Had Nanami walked you to your door? Had he leaned in? Has he touched you? Gojo hated it. He shot up from the couch, grabbing his jacket.

“I need to see her,” he muttered.

“No, you don’t,” Shoko deadpanned.

Geto sighed, already knowing this was going to be a long night. “For the love of—Gojo, sit down. You will scare her away!”.

Gojo stopped in his tracks. Geto was right. If you wanted the space to do your own thing then he should give you just that. If Nanami causes any problem for him then he knows exactly how to take care of it.

Sunday afternoon was a test of Gojo’s patience. He was already restless when he called you, craving the sound of your voice, the feeling of you near him. After one whole day of being deprived of your presence—thanks to Nanami—he was ready to reclaim your attention. But when you answered, your voice was light, casual, and utterly indifferent to his growing frustration.

“I can’t see you today, Satoru,” you said. “I have some important housework to take care of, so I’m busy the whole day.”

Gojo had to physically stop himself from groaning. Housework? Housework? You were ditching him for chores? His grip on his phone tightened. He wanted to argue, to whine, to remind you that he could have someone else take care of your entire apartment while you spent the day with him instead. But then he heard Geto’s voice in his head. Give her space, Satoru.

He exhaled slowly, pressing his lips together. “Fine, fine,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the couch. “But you owe me for this.”

You laughed, and the sound eased his irritation just a fraction. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

Gojo clung to that promise, counting down the hours until Monday.

The first thing Gojo saw when he entered the cafeteria was you. The first thing he noticed was that you weren’t alone. You sat with Nanami and Maya, laughing at something, your eyes crinkling at the corners, your smile too bright for so early in the morning. Gojo immediately felt an ugly twist in his stomach.

He was at your table before he could stop himself, his hand casually resting on the back of your chair as he sat beside you. “Morning.” His voice was light, but there was an edge underneath it. His sharp gaze flickered to Nanami, then back to you. “What’s going on?”

You turned to him, still smiling, oblivious to his irritation. “I was just telling them about the hike yesterday!”

Gojo forced a relaxed grin. “Oh? Do share.”

You launched into an animated story about the trip—how the air was crisp, how the view from the temple was breathtaking, how you had watched the marathon monks train. Your excitement was adorable, your eyes full of wonder. Gojo wanted to be happy for you. He did—but every time you mentioned Nanami’s name, his fingers curled into his palm beneath the table. And then Maya—his worst nightmare in human form—decided to take things further.

“Oh, Y/n,” she gasped dramatically. “You have to tell Gojo the story about how you almost fell and Nanami caught you just in time.”

Gojo’s body stiffened. His entire world came to a halt. You what? You tripped? And Nanami—that asshole—had been the one to catch you? 

You chuckled, brushing off her words. “It wasn’t that dramatic—”

“Oh, it was,” Maya interrupted. “She tripped on a rock, and if Nanami hadn’t been right there, she would’ve completely wiped out. It was very romantic.”

Gojo clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. Nanami, for his part, remained impassive, sipping his coffee as if the conversation was of no interest to him. Gojo wanted to strangle him. The thought of Nanami’s hands on you—of him being the one to catch you, to hold you, even for a second—made Gojo’s blood boil. But he forced his expression to remain neutral, even as his fingers dug into his thigh beneath the table.

“Sounds like an eventful hike,” he said smoothly, flashing a too-bright smile.

“Oh, it was,” Maya said, not even trying to hide her amusement.

Gojo turned his attention fully to you, ignoring everyone else. “Y/n, come to my office after this. We need to discuss the next step for the community center campaign.”

You blinked, slightly caught off guard. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

The moment you stepped into his office, Gojo shut the door behind you—and locked it.

You barely had time to react before his hands were on you, gripping your waist, pulling you into him. His lips crashed against yours, hot and desperate, his frustration from the entire weekend spilling into the kiss. It was needy, possessive—as if he was trying to remind you exactly who you belonged to. Your fingers curled into his shirt, your body pressing against his instinctively. The kiss was overwhelming, intoxicating, sending heat coursing through your veins. Gojo’s grip tightened, his fingers pressing into your hips, claiming you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice low and rough. “I missed you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “And I’m booking all of your weekends for the rest of your life.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “Satoru—”

“I’m serious.” His voice was firm, his usual teasing tone completely absent. “From now on I’ll be the one to catch you, hold you, touch you”.

That caught you off guard. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t joking. Not even a little bit.

You hesitated and pulled back from his embrace, choosing your words carefully. “That’s very sweet of you but I– I just want to see where this goes. Just want to take things slow and not dive head first like a fool like last time!”

Gojo frowned, his hands still resting on your waist. “Slow?”

“Yeah. You know, go on a few dates, spend some time and see how we fit into each other’s world”.

“I see”. Gojo flashed a flat smile that didn’t reach his eyes and pulled back. “Sure. If that’s what you want then I am happy to go as slow or as fast as you want”. He said calmly.

You could see he was hurt and you felt terrible. “Satoru.. I really like you and that’s the only reason I want to be cautious”.

Gojo looked down at the space between the two of you and nodded. “I know. Understood.”. He kissed you goodbye and watched you leave with a slow smirk on his face. Last time

The morning air felt unusually still, as if the universe itself was holding its breath. You had been awake for hours, pacing the wooden floors of the house, your heart pounding in anticipation of what you knew was about to happen. Today was the day. The day your mother would collapse in the kitchen, hit her head on the table, and slip into a coma. The day that had haunted your every waking thought since you returned from the future.

You had replayed the scene in your head over and over, dissecting every moment, every tiny detail. In the other timeline, you had been out running errands when it happened. You remembered the dread that had settled in your chest when you got the frantic call from a neighbor, their voice high with panic. You had rushed home only to find her unconscious on the kitchen floor, blood pooling beneath her head. The doctors had said the impact had worsened her condition, and within hours, the stroke had taken hold. You had lost her before you even had a chance to fight. But not this time.

This time, you were ready.

You had moved the small kitchen table to the side the night before, ensuring there was nothing in her path when she fell. You had borrowed Maya’s car, feeding her some excuse about moving furniture, and parked it right outside the house, engine ready. Your slip-on shoes sat neatly by the door, positioned for a swift exit.

At 6:30 AM, your mother shuffled into the kitchen, her hand pressed to her forehead. “I feel a little lightheaded,” she murmured.

You were at her side in an instant, your hands hovering near her arms, ready to catch her. “You should sit down, Ma. I’ll get you some water.”

She gave you a tired smile and waved you off. “I’m fine. Just need a moment.”

But you knew she wasn’t. And then it happened. Her body swayed. Her eyes fluttered shut.

You lunged forward as she collapsed, your arms catching her before she could hit the floor. Your pulse roared in your ears, but there was no time for panic. You scooped her up, ignoring the burning strain in your muscles, and carried her out of the house.

The car door was already open. You slid her into the passenger seat, buckled her in, and peeled out of the driveway, your foot pressing hard against the gas pedal. The streets blurred past you, but your focus remained razor-sharp. You had made it in time. That was all that mattered.

At the hospital, nurses swarmed around you the moment you burst through the emergency entrance, calling for help. They whisked her onto a gurney, and you followed closely as they pushed her through the hallways, your hands clenched into fists.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you answered without looking at it, your eyes remained fixed at the shut metal doors, “Hello?”.

“Y/n”. Gojo’s voice echoed from the other side, “Where are you?”.

“At the hospital, Mom fainted”. You said flatly.

“Send your location now”. The line went dead.

You sighed as you collapsed on the metal chairs. As much as you hated it you needed Gojo. You were trying to be strong for your mom but you wanted someone to be strong for you. So you sent him your location immediately.

In 15 minutes Gojo was running through the doors. You got up to greet him but he immediately wrapped his arms around you, “It’s going to be okay”. He knew what had happened. He was there the last time it happened.

“I know”. You nodded and let go.

“What happened?”. He asked. He had to.

“We were just about to have breakfast and she fell unconscious and fell”.

“How did you get her here?”. Gojo asked, sitting down next to you.

“I had Maya’s car. I had to move some furniture so I borrowed it yesterday”.

“Huh”. Gojo poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Did she have any– injury?”.

“Nope”.

Gojo sat silently for a while. Recollecting the facts. From what he had remembered she did suffer an injury. “When did it happen exactly?”.

“7 AM”.

The Doctor came out through the metal doors and called out, “Ms.L/n?”.

“Yes!”. You got up immediately and walked over to the man with Gojo trailing behind you.

“She is stable. She had just been weak and dehydrated, nothing serious. We have her on IV and you can take her home by noon”.

But you knew better. At 12:45 PM, she was supposed to have a stroke. If you let her leave, history would repeat itself. “She needs to stay under observation,” you said, your voice firm.

The doctor gave you a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head. “I understand you’re worried, but there’s no medical reason to keep her admitted. We can’t occupy a room unless it’s necessary.”

You grit your teeth, frustration clawing at your chest. You couldn’t just tell them you had seen this all before. That you knew what was coming. “Trust me. She has– underlying health issues and I’m afraid that this might-”.

The man cut you off, “I understand your concern but we don’t see anything on her charts. She is absolutely fine. She will be discharged at 12:00 PM. You can take her home”. The man patted your shoulder and walked past you only to be stopped by Gojo standing in front of him.

“Let me make this simple,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. “If you want this hospital to keep running, you’ll do exactly what she says.”

The Doctor scoffed, “Who might you be?”.

“Gojo Satoru”.

The doctor stiffened, his throat bobbing as recognition dawned on his face. Gojo Satoru. The name alone carried weight, power.A tense silence stretched between them before the doctor finally nodded. “I—I’ll see what I can do.” he turned to you with a curt nod. “We’ll keep her under observation for the full day.”

The tension in the hospital corridor had dulled into a quiet hum, but Gojo’s gaze was sharp as ever, watching you like a puzzle he was piecing together. Your mother was safe for now, hooked up to an IV and resting under careful observation. You had done it—you had changed something. But Gojo… he wasn’t letting this go.

He leaned casually against the wall beside you, arms crossed, his signature blindfold missing for once, allowing those piercing blue eyes to study you freely. The hospital lights reflected off them, making them even more unnerving.

“You know, there’s something I’ve been wondering,” he said lightly, like he was talking about the weather. “Why’d you bring her here?”

You turned to him, confused. “What?”

“This is the best cardiology hospital in the city,” he said, tipping his chin toward the hospital’s logo on the wall. “But there was a general hospital much closer to your house. Would’ve been a five-minute drive instead of—what? Fifteen?”

Your stomach clenched, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You had prepared for everything today—the collapse, the drive, the argument with the doctor—but you hadn’t expected Gojo to question you like this.

You shrugged, keeping your expression neutral. “I wasn’t really thinking about it. Just panicked and drove to the first place that came to mind.”

Gojo hummed, tilting his head slightly as if considering your words. He didn’t press further, but you could tell he wasn’t satisfied with your answer. He was watching you too closely, studying you in a way that made your skin prickle.

But he didn’t say anything else. Not yet.

By the time the clock struck 1 PM, exhaustion was starting to creep in. You hadn’t eaten since morning, and Gojo had dragged you down to the hospital cafeteria, insisting you needed food before you collapsed yourself.

The cafeteria was buzzing with low chatter, the smell of coffee and warm food filling the air. You picked at the sandwich on your tray, barely tasting it, while Gojo slurped obnoxiously on a bowl of ramen.

“She’s going to be fine,” he said between bites, voice oddly gentle. “You can relax a little.”

You nodded absentmindedly, but your grip on the plastic fork remained tight. You knew the real danger wasn’t over yet.

Gojo tapped his chopsticks against his bowl, watching you carefully. “You know, you’re acting like you’re waiting for something bad to happen.”

Before you could answer, a sharp voice cut through the cafeteria noise.

“Miss Y/N!”

You turned just as a nurse rushed toward you, her face tight with urgency. The entire cafeteria seemed to blur out of focus, your heart stalling.

“There’s been an incident,” she said quickly. “Your mother just had a stroke. It was a minor one, and the doctor is treating her now, but you should come immediately.”

The world snapped into motion again. You were on your feet before the nurse even finished speaking, your half-eaten sandwich forgotten. Gojo stood just as fast, his expression unreadable, and together you rushed out of the cafeteria, your feet pounding against the sterile hospital floors.

Your chest was tight, panic clawing its way up your throat. Even though you had known this was coming, the words still sent a cold shock through your veins. Minor stroke. She was in the best possible place for this. You had made sure of that. But still—You skidded to a stop outside the operating theater, your breath shallow. The red “IN PROCEDURE” light was on. The seconds stretched into minutes, and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

Gojo stood beside you, hands stuffed in his pockets, but he wasn’t saying anything. Just watching.

An hour later, the door finally opened, and the doctor stepped out. You didn’t even wait for him to speak.

“Is she okay?”

The doctor gave you a reassuring nod. “She’s stable. The stroke was mild, and we caught it in time. We’ll keep her under observation for longer, but there’s no permanent damage.”

You sighed and sat back with your head in your hand. You have done it. You had saved your mother from slipping into a coma. You breathed out a sigh of relief. Gojo sat next to you rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

He observed you. You looked like you had just completed a mission. He excused himself and went to a far corner of the waiting room and picked up his phone,

“Hello?”. Geto answered.

“I need you to find everything about y/n. Why didn't she accept the offer from Domain Dynamics? Why didn’t she move out of Kyoto? Why is she still living with her mother?”.

Gojo scoffed, “Satoru, why-”.

“I might not be the only one who has come back”, Gojo said, looking right at you.

@commandertorindhepard @inlove-maze @starlightanyaaa @missybrat @lem-hhn @valleydoli @definetlythinkimanalien @luckyangelballoon @sheep-infog @gojoprincesss @kanaojacksonofc @bubera974 @ginginha @mari-ho14 @mashtura @concretewishes

[i-might-haveapolitic]

In case you're not subscribed to The Telegraph, the article is below the cut:

How innovative Hong Kong protesters are using lasers, traffic cones and parkour in battle with police

tmg.video.placeholder.alt zIH_DfXJQY4

Sophia Yan

Hong Kong

02 August 2019 9:01pm BST

In her pink top and billowy skirt there is little outward sign that Diana, 24, spends her weekends executing inventive, eye-catching protest tactics on the frontlines of Hong Kong’s pro-democracy movement.

Millions of young people have taken to the streets all summer to fight for the city’s freedoms in the face of growing repression from China.

In increasingly chaotic clashes, the protesters at the frontline bring with them a variety of homespun tools to confound highly-trained riot police backed by extensive surveillance capabilities.

During the week Diana - not her real name - taps furiously on her phone chatting with fellow frontline activists about new ways to stay one step ahead of the authorities.

Green laser-pointers are a must-have, shone at police cameras to prevent protesters’ faces from being captured - any who are identified risk a 10-year prison sentence for rioting - or target officers’ eyes.

Last weekend, as clashes between protesters and police descended into pandaemonium, Diana swung the beam to-and-fro to direct the pace of charges and retreats.

“I don’t know why, I just had the idea,” she said.

Effective protesting is all about “having a team of people,” said Brian, 20, who also declined to give his real name for fear of arrest.

Protesters drag cones to block traffic on a busy road in the centre of the city

Protesters drag cones to block traffic on a busy road in the centre of the city

One group, protesters explained, distracts police with the lasers or other bright lights so a second team can counter-attack. A third group leads changes to the formation and a fourth at the rear keeps spirits high by drumming and shouting slogans, while scouts and runners pass supplies and news between different frontlines.

Some protesters trained in parkour scale overpasses to assess the situation on the ground or drop objects to deter police.

Others work together to snuff out tear-gas, swiftly dropping traffic cones over the smoking canisters then pouring water into them through the nozzle.

This is a dangerous business, drawing giant blisters on protesters' arms and gasps on widely-shared social media clips.

To stymie facial recognition, demonstrators also spray paint surveillance cameras or unfurl umbrellas around groups in action – for instance, when they are removing metal street gates or bus stop sign poles to erect barriers to block police and indicate safe zones for protesters.

When they head home, protesters leave behind cash at subway stations to avoid being tracked through their public transport cards.

tmg.video.placeholder.alt wHc8piFPGBw

“We’re just private citizens – our abilities are not better than the police,” said Brian, one of the protesters who stormed the legislative building in early July. “They have full professional gear that is many times better than ours…so we can only find other methods, like using the lasers or strong lights, to make it harder for them to target us.”

As the movement continues with more rallies planned this weekend, many demonstrators have also upgraded their makeshift gear – gone are thin face masks and surfboards that were “useless” against police batons and giant riot shields, said Diana.

Now demonstrators pull up metal street signs to use as shields, don arm and leg guards, procure iron rods, and bring everything from bricks to eggs to throw.

Communication is carefully restricted, too.

Frontline defenders never store each other’s contact information and limit tactical chats to small numbers while designated messengers pass information between the groups.

The laser beams can disorient police and block facial recognition technology

The laser beams can disorient police and block facial recognition technology Credit: SIPA USA

The idea is to prevent police from tracking down too many people in case one person is arrested or devices are confiscated.

Across the city, activists target visitors from mainland China - where news of the protests are restricted to government propaganda - by using Airdrop to send information on why there are protests, the real story behind Tiananmen Square and emphasise that foreign forces do not control the movement.

Many protesters also keep their frontline participation from family, friends, and colleagues, so as to keep them from worrying and preserve relationships over differing political opinions.

“Every weekend, I feel so angry, passionate, desperate,” said Diana. “But on weekdays, you have to pretend to be a normal person and go to work.

A protester uses a traffic cone to cover a tear gas canister

A protester uses a traffic cone to cover a tear gas canister Credit: AP

The double life can be hard to balance – she recently got home at 2 am after choking on streams of tear gas before heading to the office by 7 am. Seconds before a standoff exploded, one frontliner was overheard asking his mother not to ring again, saying his movie was not over yet.

The frontliners draw parallels and inspiration for their own fight from the 2014 Ukrainian Revolution, though many worry that police or protester deaths are on the horizon – a development that could finally begin to splinter public opinion, which has largely been in support of the movement.

Protesters, however, say the Hong Kong government already has blood on its hands, given a series of protest-related suicides in recent weeks.

To them, success is the only option after being thwarted in the 2014 pro-democracy protests dubbed the Umbrella Revolution.

“Every time I stand out, I walk and fight for those who committed suicide and those who have been arrested,” said Diana.

“They were sacrificed; we can’t go back and say we forgive the government.”

Nice article about Hong Kong street tactics.

Cw: police violence, injuries, state surveillance

[gatorbites-imagines]

Gator, I think cyborg Mark is really interesting, specifically his cyborg parts, and I have so many little questions to fire at you. :')

1. Does cyborg Mark fix himself? // Like, does he have the tech to fix himself if his limbs get broken or anything, or is there a specific guy who does that for him like Art or Robot (for example) or some1 like that.

> 1.1 And if so, does he allow others to tinker with/on him that either aren't him fixing himself/isn't the designated fixer person or character?

> 1.2 Also would he be sensitive to that, like having his "insides" tampered with, would he have any sensation in those circuits to know what's being prodded and so on inside like his arm, leg, etc lol? I think you mentioned something about his bits being able to be switched around, so I think there could be some sensations he feels at least around his groin area if I'm not mistaken?/. (Feel free to correct)

2. Also does his personality diverge from Canon Mark much, what's it like (the personality)? We know he's a bit insecure about his looks :3 <- cannot remember anything else anymore due to shit for memory.

> 2.1 Does he have any pet peeves?

Feel free to ignore if needed, you don't need to answer everything:3 /gen

Hi anon :3

I've honestly been so hyped and shocked positively that people like my au stuff, since I've never really shared it before and been kinda embarrassed about it, here I go >:3

Cyborg Mark Grayson answers under the cut 🗣️

1. Yes, Cyborg Mark fixes himself if the damage is bad enough. I've explained in another post that he's made out of alloys/metals and nanobots that fix itself with time, like normal wounds just much faster. This also means his robotic body actually grows stronger with time like other Marks, so he's not left behind in that department. For plot reasons, if I were to write fanfic, then the reader would be the one to repair bigger problems or give upgrades, as well as teaching mark how to do the repairs himself.

He doesn't trust Robot, the GDA, the government, or really anybody. There are times where he has to rely on them, but it's clear he doesn't trust them like normal mark does.

1.1 I think he'd allow his lover to tinker with parts, but mainly his hands or like, arms or smth. Something he can easily fix himself, and only if they're truly in a safe situation where he wouldn't need to fight and have to recalibrate his limbs again. He'd also allow his insides to be 'tinkered' in the bedroom.

1.2 his insides are sensitive kinda like nerves, but he can dull it for battle reasons. One of the things he can do that other makes can't is wire play. Meaning that the reader can mess with some of his wires in his back and make him orgasm that way.

After losing the fight with Nolan, Mark didn't even really have genitals since he doesnt exclude waste the same way anymore. But after getting a boyfriend, he looks into ways to get that part of himself back after he feels like he deserves to be happy and enjoy things again. Even better if the reader is smart and helps make them, then they can try them out together.

2. Cyborg Mark is more jaded than canon Mark, he's more like season 3 Mark from the very beginning. He doesn't just kill anybody, but he also knows that sometimes it's a necessary evil. He's always ashamed of killing, but he doesn't actually feel regret or anything about it. This only adds to his constant fear that he's like his dad or that he's becoming some kind of monster.

He will also dissociate in a way when fighting people stronger than him or similar in strength. Blame it on trauma from fighting Nolan, but Mark just recedes into the back of his head and lets instincts and robotics do all the work.

2.1 I think a pet peeve is getting sand in his crevices. Or that the guardians would want him to join them. They'd be more insistent on this universe, as of course robot and the GDA wants in on his tech, but also because he's not actually friends with them.

He can work alongside them, but he doesn't have a friendship with for example Rex or Eve, since they never had time to get close before he was pulverized by his dad and had to learn to live again.

He also doesn't like when people worry too much about him, like his mom, or William who dropped out of college to help mark learn to live again, like walking, motor functions, etc. it's not that he doesn't appreciate it, he just doesn't feel he deserves it and that he robbed the people he cares for of a lot of things. So he has moments where he gets angry, but he always catches himself and feels even worse cuz he thinks he's like his dad.

So yeah, horrible daddy issues too.

[libraford]

I love that. And I see it a lot right now in how many people want to Do Good in the Face of Evil. Like... I was talking to someone at a show this past weekend who was part of a group that wanted to start up a QBIPOC non-profit because 'times are tough, but we can make it easier if we work together and help each other out.' And I think its beautiful that when we step out of our Rugged Individualism, people do want to work together to make our shared spaces better.

You are probably correct that the bins were removed due to cuts. More bins means more people to service the bins. As well as a dose of 'we don't know how to do this in a way that does not potentially expose our people to a deadly virus.' I didn't work for the parks during the pandemic, so I can't say. But from what the guys have told me there was just... a lot of confusion about what the day-to-day should look like without putting your people in danger.

Framing humans as a species reacting to an environment has really helped me figure out some of the things about the world I previously didn't understand. But I did try to explain it once to a coworker and he seemed offended that I was putting animals on the same field as humans. He said 'I like to think that I'm better than a dog.' But like... in some ways? Yeah. A dog can't cook or build a house or read. But humans need food and water and sunlight and social times. And they react to threats in an animal way. So like... why not? Explain human behaviors as if they're mammals with animal needs for survival.

But that's me being neurospicy.

Once you start thinking about humans as a species in a biome, it affects your entire way of looking at normal things.

The other day I referred to female morning joggers as an 'indicator species' in that if you see women jogging in the dark it means that the environment provides migration pathways (sidewalks, clear signs) and doesn't have any known predators of female morning joggers (guy with knife, bear, BigTruck, male morning joggers).

Though, I think that people consider framing humans as animals reacting to their environment as rude.

[labelleizzy]

It's important to know what is going on.

Written by US Senator Chris Murphy (D - CT)

Report from the Senate Floor:

Last night in the Senate, something really important happened. Republicans forced us to debate their billionaire bailout budget framework. We started voting at 6 PM because they knew doing it in the dark of night would minimize media coverage. And they do not want the American people to see how blatant their handover of our government to the billionaire class is.

So I want to explain what happened last night and what we did to fight back. The apex of Republicans’ plan to turn over our government to their wealthy cronies is a giant tax cut for billionaires and corporations. And they plan to pay for it with cuts to programs that working people rely on. Popular and necessary programs like Medicaid, Medicare, and SNAP, are all being targeted.

In order to pass the tax cut, Republicans have to go through a series of procedural steps. Last night, they took the first step which requires them to pass an outline of their plan, but with it, any senator can offer as many amendments as we want. So my Democratic colleagues and I did just that.

Now, we knew that Republicans would largely unanimously oppose them, but we had two objectives here. One, Republicans were forced to put their opinion on record — many for the first time — on the most corrupt parts of Trump and Musk’s agenda. Two, as I’ve been saying, I am going to make every process and procedure as slow and painful as possible for as long as my colleagues choose to ignore the constitutional crisis happening before our eyes.

So what did we propose? We proposed no tax cuts for anyone who makes a billion dollars a year. We made them vote on whether or not Elon Musk and DOGE should have limitless access to Americans’ personal data. We made them vote on whether to protect IVF and require insurers to cover it. Every single amendment Democrats proposed was shot down. On almost every single amendment, Republicans universally opposed it. Every Republican voted against our proposal to prevent more tax cuts for billionaires. The corruption and theft is happening in the open here.

The whole game for Republicans is taking your money and giving it to the wealthiest corporations and billionaires — even if it means kicking your parents out of a nursing home or turning off Medicaid for the poorest children. They know what they are doing is deeply unpopular. They are offering a tax cut to the most wealthy that is 850 times larger than what they are offering working people. Oh and by the way, any tax cuts for working people are going to be washed out by higher costs for basic necessities, like health care and food. It’s a fundamental injustice.

Thanks to your pressure and support, many of my Democratic colleagues have joined my effort to do everything we can to make sure they cannot destroy democracy and steal your money in the dark of the night. We are being loud about what is happening. I’m going to continue to grind the gears of Congress down as much as possible to make it that much harder and slower to get away with this corruption. That’s why the votes lasted until nearly 5 AM.

This is a five-alarm fire. I don’t think we have two years to plan and fight back. I think we have months. It’s still in our power to stop the destruction of our democracy with mass mobilization and effective opposition from elected officials. So we can’t miss any opportunity to take advantage of opportunities to put Republicans on the record and shine a light on what is happening.

And you have a role to play in this as well. I need you to amplify what’s happening, support the leaders who are fighting for you to make sure they can continue speaking truth to power against Musk and Trump’s billionaire cronies, and show up at rallies and town halls. Use every tool at your disposal to send a message loud and clear about how you expect my colleagues to lead and fight in this moment.

Every best wish,

US Senator Chris Murphy (D - CT)

[star-anise]

Disclaimer: I like Anita Sarkeesian.

But also, I just saw a writeup of a Youtuber whose content has come a long way from his Gamergate days, and to explain that, the wiki says, "Anita Sarkeesian is a radical feminist who created a webseries about sexist tropes in video games"

AHAHAHAHAHA ANITA SARKEESIAN, RADICAL FEMINIST

HOO HEE EXCUSE ME THAT'S A GOOD ONE

Radical feminist. Feminist extremist. Anita Sarkeesian.

Anita Sarkeesian did her Master's Thesis in Social and Political Thought in 2010 on the trope of the "Strong Woman" in fantasy and science fiction TV shows, and produced Tropes vs Women, a series of online videos breaking down her work in a way that was accessible to a lay audience. She found a ready audience in geek feminist circles, since this was exactly the kind of thing we wanted and needed right then.

Tropes vs Women was extremely bog-standard cultural critique, what you'd find expressed in discussion between scholars of literary theory or media analysis anywhere, and exactly what 99% of feminists were saying at the time. It certainly talked about patriarchy as the complex system of sexism fused into our cultural matrix, so it's not like it wasn't radical feminism from that viewpoint, but it wasn't "radical" by way of being especially militant. Sarkeesian frequently pointed out how individual occurrences of a trope weren't harmful in themselves, but that a media landscape completely saturated with only that trope and nothing but that trope is, in the aggregate, a big feminist issue.

And the internet

HAAAAAAAATED

her for it.

Like, geek feminists got flak a lot anyway, especially when we wanted things like properly enforced policies against sexual harassment at science fiction conventions. And yeah, there totally were toxic keyboard warriors who said stuff about all men being scum - but Sarkeesian wasn't one of them.

It's probably because of her succinct, matter-of-fact, "this is not a debated issue, feminists have decades of theory and research to back this point up, sources abound if you google for thirty seconds so I won't stop to baby you through all the fundamental concepts" approach that she got such a big reach. She was calm, concise, coherent, and rational, everything feminists are told we need to be.

Unfortunately that just made her seem... attackable, I think. A good target, not actually scary or impassioned, unlikely to respond to violence with violence. The perfect kind of person to play five seconds of, and then spend the next five minutes yelling into your mic because IF ANITA IS RIGHT ABOUT VIDEO GAME SEXIST YOU MIGHT AS WELL SAY THAT EVERYTHING IS SEXIST AND SEXISM IS SYSTEMIC AND ENDEMIC TO ALL OF WESTERN CULTURE AND OTHER CULTURES TOO, WHICH IS CLEARLY RIDICULOUS, ANITA LADY BAD.

She literally spent five solid years as Enemy #1 in online geek spaces. It was completely insane. I am so sorry she had to take the brunt of it, and yet grateful that she did. She held the line and took the shit and kept doing good decent feminist work for years after, though she did admit to burnout and closed up shop on her nonprofit org Feminist Frequency in 2023. I hope to hell she's having a good day.

But even now, more than a decade later, dudes talk about her as though she were Geek Feminist Godzilla, the biggest baddest woman in the universe, off to lay waste to downtown Video Games and cut everybody's balls off.

When people (mostly dudes, but not all) talk like this, it's just very funny and unintentionally revealing because of the absolute averageness of her third-wave, trans-inclusive, western-centric, intersectional feminism. It makes them look absolutely pathetic.

Because it just makes it clear that she is probably the first and last self-described feminist the speaker has ever paid attention to.

[phantom-dc]

Bruce sighed.

He never thought he would die like this. When he started out as Batman he was certain he would meet his end fighting the criminal underworld of Gotham. When he got older and life got stranger, he believed he would die fighting off a threat like Joker or Deathstroke, maybe even Darkseid. Being used as a human sacrifice to the King of the Infinite Realms was not on that list, let alone being a willing sacrifice.

Unfortunately, it had been necessary. An asteroid was on collision course with Earth. The asteroid had a colony of sapient alien life on it, so destroying it was not an option. As the League grew desperate, Constantine revealed a similar incident had happened a few years ago. The King of the Infinite Realms had, along with his subjects, turned the Earth intangible and both the Earth and the Asteroid had survived. Constantine isn’t sure why or how, but there are signs an extremely powerful ghost had merged realities and in the process erased the memories of this event from the entire population of Earth! The only reason Constantine knows about it is because a Demon with time-based powers told him during one of their poker games. Summoning this King was risky, as they had no idea what the King would want in return, but this entity seemed like their best bet. Now Bruce thinks they had been wrong.

Superman pulled Bruce out of his thoughts:

“Bruce, are you sure you want to go through with this? If we work together, we might be able to-”

Bruce cut him off:

“No, Clark. You heard Constantine. If we do not hold up our end of the deal, the Ghost King could simply make his ally, this “Clockwork”, reverse time to before the planet was saved. The Earth and the asteroid will still be destroyed, killing everyone on both. This is the only way.”

Clark looked dejected. He knew his friend was right. The King had turned the entire Earth intangible with one hand! He knew the League couldn’t defeat this foe, not without help. Any being that could help them would demand even more bloodshed in exchange, though. One human life in exchange of saving the entire planet had been a steal, according to the Justice League Dark. Clark looked at Bruce:

“Are you going to put on your cowl? This will be the only chance you have to tell the other Leaguers who you are.”

Bruce looked at his cowl. He had taken of his suit, so that his family had something to bury. But to reveal his identity to anyone other than Clark....

“I will keep it on. Even if I die here, I cannot risk anyone finding out my identity and using it to get to my family. I hope the League understands.”

Bruce is pulled into a hug. As Clark holds him as close as he can without breaking bones Bruce cannot help being filled with regret. He wanted more time with his family and, dare he say, friends. This was not how things were supposed to go. Clark pulls away and seems to want to say something:

“Bruce, I just want you to know, I-”

“WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON, B?”

Suddenly Nightwing enters the room, along with the entire Bat-family. Even Alfred and Oracle, donning masks, are there. They looked confused and scared, which made sense. They had all been summoned to the Watchtower, and when they had seen non-field members there as well they knew something was very wrong. Robin stepped forward, demanding an explanation:

“Father, what is happening? Why did you ask for us here? Explain yourself this instant!”

Red Robin looked ready to fight, staff in hand and in a low stance:

Where is the danger? Who is the enemy? Do you have intel for us? ARE YOU BEING MIND CONTROLLED?

Spoiler yanked at Red Robin’s cowl, pulling him out of his paranoid spiral:

“Easy, Captain Paranoid! Let him speak!”

Red Hood was clearly agitated. It was never a good sign if he was asked to the Watchtower:

“The fuck is going on, old man? Are you dying or something? That’s my stick, not yours!”

Bruce steeled his nerves. This was not going to be an easy conversation. How does one tell their family they are going to die and there is nothing to be done about it? Things had been going well for them, too. Dick and he hadn’t fought as often anymore, Jason had not called him names when he patrolled Crime ally last week, Tim hadn’t done anything that could be considered villainous (that he knew of) and Damian had not stabbed any goons for a month. Truly things had been good. Bruce knew this would mess it all up. He feared Jason would start killing again, or Damian would take out his grief on the criminals or Tim would… Well he had no idea. Last time Bruce disappeared Tim blew up so many LoA bases (he still wasn’t sure whether there had been people inside or not), so it was anyone’s gue-

“Sir, could you please elaborate on why we are here? I’m assuming it has something to do with the reason for this dreadful cold, and perhaps your lack of a shirt?”

Bruce sighed. Alfred always knew how to get through to him. With a heavy heart he told them everything. He would sacrifice himself for the survival of both planets. There was nothing to be done about that, and he asked them to please accept his decision. Naturally everyone was outraged. Amidst the chaos, Orphan asked a question:

“Why you?”

Bruce explained that, according to Constantine, the King had asked for a single sacrifice in return: “To feast on a non-magic, non-meta mortal human that will not resist being consumed.” It had pointed specifically at Batman, making sure they all knew which one it wanted. There had been no time to negotiate the prize, so he had accepted. After that it had left immediately for Earth, turning it intangible so the asteroid flew through harmlessly and fulfilling its end of the deal. Orphan seemed to think for a bit, before speaking up again:

“We’ll miss you.”

She hugged Batman. The others, realizing there was nothing they could do, at least not before facing the King, joined in as well. Bruce told them how proud he was of everyone. That they were strong and brilliant, and to please protect each other and Gotham in his stead. He thanked Alfred and Oracle for their help over the years and to please continue to support the others with the same strength they used to help him. After a moment they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Wonder Woman had entered the room. With a saddened expression, and a dented doorhandle that showed her tension, she had come to collect her friend.:

“Batman. It’s time.”

Bruce nodded at her. Thanking her, he tried to leave with her, but was stopped by Alfred. After a quick hug, Alfed offered Bruce a cookie from the plate he had brought along:

“Every man deserves a final meal. I’m sorry this was all I have to offer.”

Taking a grateful bite, Bruce allowed himself to indulge in the taste of home.

“Thank you, Alfred. This means more to me then you realize.”

Steeling himself once more, Batman and the others followed Wonder Woman to the main room. It was the largest room in the Watchtower, several stories high with observation platforms, security screens showing cities all over the planet and a teleportation platform. As they approached the room, Batman was surprised by the cold that radiated form the entrance. Opening the door the source of all the cold and grief became visible to the group. Signal had to shield his eyes:

“What the hell!?!”

There it was, the High Ghost King of the Infinite Realms. A giant being, which had been so large they had to move to the observation platform to speak with it. Even then it towered over the heroes. It’s skin impossibly dark, with constellations spotting its tail & torso. The stars converging on its lower arms, making it look like it was wearing glowing white gloves, the same as a strange symbol on his chest that seemed important. The stars on its neck blending seamlessly with its hair, yet leaving its head completely dark aside from a few little spots on its face. The only facial feature they could make out where 2 Lazarus green eyes, focused on the new arrivals. On its hand, a ring with a skull on it that had freaked out the Lanterns. On its head a dark crown covered in patches of frost, and its own Aurora Borealis spreading from it. The room had already been partially covered in frost simply from the King’s aura. Power emanated from it, which had caused several members that had been dead and revived before to kneel on reflex, which was frightening even if they managed to get up on their own again.

Martian Manhunter had tried to peek in the Kings mind, hoping to find a way to convince the King to spare Batman, but he had been unsuccessful. As soon as he tried his knees buckled, and he had been pushed out. Ever since the Ghost King had radiated frustration. Now, as Batman entered wearing only his cowl and some spare pants, that frustration seemed to spike dangerously. Was the King upset he had been left to wait for his offer?

"What the fuck is this? I didn’t ask for a striptease, especially from some old Frootloop!”

“Constantine, what’s wrong? What is it saying?”

Batman was worried. He had not expected more anger from the being when presented with the offering. Looking at Constantine, he saw the magician frantically looking through the pages of his books, desperately looking for a translation.

“Hang on, mate. I’m doing my best here! Ehrm… no, that’s not right… Something about mating? Maybe he likes you, Bats. He also said something about “the absence of clothing” so…

Suddenly he is cut off by a strange sound coming from the Ghost King. It makes a strange motion with its body and its giant maw opens, as more of those sounds escape. It reminds Robin of Alfred the Cat when he has a hairball. However, there is more sound in the Watchtower now. The Red Hood is clutching his stomach as he is doubling down in laughter.

“HAHAHAHA!!! WHAT? HOW THE FUCK DID YOU TRANSLATE THAT BADLY? HOLY SHIT!”

The Ghost King stops making the noises, and it’s eyes snap to Red Hood. It moves it’s head closer to him, casually passing it through the barrier Constantine had put up. Constantine’s swears in surprise, but the King seems not to care as it “speaks” to Red Hood:

"Oh, thank the Acients! Someone who understands Ghost Speak! Can you PLEASE help me and translate for us? This trench coat guy is terrible, and somehow twists everything I say in the worst way!"

Red Hood relaxed, looking up at the Ghost King’s giant head.:

“Sure man, no problem. I’m pretty sure he is using like 3 different dictionaries to get this far. I saw him first translate Ghost to Pixie, Pixie to Gnome and Gnome to Demon before telling us in English! So, what’s up?”

Batman was stunned. The Ghost King actually face palmed. What the heck was going on?

"Of course he is. That explains why it sounds like he is putting this through Google Translate 4 times! These guys summoned me to save the Earth, which, totally cool. Happy to help! But a summons makes it official, which means I need to get an offering. I can’t leave without it or I face a mountain of paperwork from some stupid bureaucratic eyeballs for not following proper procedure. But I can always ask something simple and get it over with. No biggie, right? WRONG.”

Red Hood actually grabs a chair to sit on. Not even in a somewhat respectful way, he is sitting on it backwards, casually leaning on it.

“Oh, boy. How badly did they fuck up? Gotta be big since Batman over there is ready to be eaten?”

The King glares at Constantine, who puts up his bravest “time to out-bollock a Eldritch Demon” face. The King is not impressed:

"Man, I asked, and I quote: “I’d like to eat a regular human meal that doesn’t fight back, like that guy would eat!” I wanted it to be clear I didn’t want blood, or corpses or virgins or any of the other horrible things stupid cults try to give me! I just wanted a burger or something! But then Mr. triple dictionary over there somehow turns that into: ‘’I wish to feast on a non-magic, non-meta mortal human that will not resist being consumed, and it must be that one.” I’ll admit I was pointing at one of the non-supers, but that didn’t mean I wanted to eat him! I just wanted to make sure it was normal food, something that doesn’t fight back!”

Red Hood looked confused, asking if the King’s food usually fights back. The King rolls it’s eyes:

"In life, I lived with mad scientist parents who treated lab safety as a suggestion at best and a chore for teens at worst. Put enough samples in the fridge and you get a whole new type of Thanksgiving trauma. Dang, I’m getting even more hungry. I’d love some turkey right now. Could you get them to bring me some food? That way I can have my sacrifice and leave…”

Red Hood stands up. He asks if the King can wait a few more minutes, claiming that after all that frustration he deserved something better. Getting a nod from the Ghost King, the Red Hood suddenly shouted over the platform railing towards the waiting Leaguers:

“FLASH! Get your squad up here, and bring pen & paper! I got a job for y’all!”

Zooming up every member of the Flash family gets a list of things to get and a warning not to tell the Bats what’s on it, or Red Hood will shoot them in the knees. Looking at the lists, they quickly caught on what was going on and promised they wouldn’t tell. This was way too funny! Red Hood does a fake bow to the King, clearly amusing himself.

“Don’t worry, your Hungry-ness! Your sacrifice is being prepared! Anything else we can assist you with?”

The Ghost King seems to tilt its head in amusement. Whatever Hood was doing, it was working, which honestly was the only reason nobody had tackled him to the floor.

"Actually, if you could get that Frootloop to put on a shirt that would be great. He is shivering and honestly, I’m worried he’s going to poke someone’s eye out with a nipple. Why is he shirtless anyway? Please tell me he wasn’t actually trying to seduce me or something, he’s old enough to be my dad! Gross!”

This caused Red Hood to again double over in laughter. Everyone was confused, what could possibly be so funny in this situation? Constantine had frantically tried translating during their conversation, but it had gone too fast for him. He gave up when the King mentioned eyeballs and seduction, accepting he wouldn’t get anywhere like this. Batman however couldn’t resist his need to know everything anymore.

“Hood, report! How are you communicating with the entity?”

Red Hood turns to Batman, walks past him and towards Alfred, grabbing one of the cookies he had brought with him. As he walks back and hands it to the Ghost King, he starts to explain:

“Honestly, not sure. It feels instinctive, like a second mother-tongue. Pretty sure it’s some sort of “dead-guy-language” you learn when you die. Speaking off: Turns out Constantine is a VERY unreliable translator. Spooky here is actually pretty chill! He used you as an example to make sure we knew what he wanted, not to demand you as a sacrifice. He is in fact pretty ticked that you guys tried to feed B to him. Speaking of: Batman? Put a shirt on, for fucks sake. You look like you’re going to freeze your tits off.”

This earned a round of giggles from Green Lantern & Green Arrow. Now that the tension had left the room, other Leaguers also smiled in relief. Besides, it’s always fun to see Batman being the butt of a joke. Sure enough, Batman let out a frustrated sound, that got the rest of the Bats to join in on the fun. They understood that their dad in fact felt rather silly right now, which meant that they had more to gossip about soon. Constantine now was wondering what Hood was up to:

“Mate, I did my best! Sorry for not being fluent in every language in existence. What the hell did you send the Flash to get? The bloke is a scientist and denies magic when it’s right in front of ‘im! What could they possibly get that I couldn’t-”

At that moment, the Flashes zoom out of the Zeta tubes and zoom across the observation deck. After a few moments of red and yellow blurs, the deck is covered with tables filled front to back with food! Picking up a receipt that fell to the floor, Batman realizes this is take-out from all over the world. Seeing a puddle of Lazarus water grow on the floor, he looks up. The Ghost King is actually drooling! Red Hood steps aside and gestures to the feast:

“Welp! There is your sacrifice! One. And I also quote: “regular human meal that doesn’t fight back, like “that guy” would eat!” Well, more of a feast then a meal, but I’m sure a big guy like you can finish it, and you can always take home the rest I guess. Bon Appetit!”

Opening his giant maw, the Ghost King digs in. Well, as much as he can. He actually looks kind of silly eating everything with a tiny fork. Still, judging from the purring sound emanating through the Watchtower it’s to the Kings liking.

"DUDE, THIS IS SO GOOD? I need to know these restaurants! You want a bite for helping me out? You saved me SOOO much annoying paperwork, I was about to bail!”

Picking up a plate of karaage, Red Hood took of his helmet revealing a second mask underneath and dug in as well:

“Don’t mind if I do, this smells fantastic! Oh shit, you should try this stuff, it’s great!”

Red Hood being allowed to partake in the offering so casually caused Constantine to do a double take. He realizes he seriously misjudged this entity. Still, that didn’t explain the horrific stories about him. He would need to do some digging into that, maybe with Hood as a translator. For now he takes a swig of his drink. The world was saved, no one died or lost their Soul and he didn’t make any new enemies he thinks. Plus, Batman felt like an idiot, and that always made the Brit smile.

All in all a good day!

[hyperlexichypatia]

This is a semi spinoff of this post, but really its own thought.

When a job pays less than a living wage, it generally attracts one of two types of employees:

Desperate people (usually poor and/or otherwise marginalized or with barriers to employment), who will take any job, no matter how bad, because they need the money, or

Independently wealthy people (usually well-off retirees, students being supported by their families, or women with well-off husbands*), who don't care about the pay scale because they don't need the money anyway.**

And sometimes, organizations will intentionally keep a job low-paying or non-paying with the deliberate intent of narrowing their pool to that second category.

People sometimes bring this up when discussing the salaries of elected officials -- yes, most politicians are paid more than most "regular people," but they're not paid enough to sustain the expensive lifestyle politicians have to maintain, and that's on purpose. It's not an oversight, and it's not primarily about cost-cutting. It's a deliberate barrier to ensure that only rich people can run for office.

The same is true, albeit to less severe effect, of unpaid internships -- the benefit of "hiring" an unpaid intern isn't (just) that you don't have to pay them; it's also that you can ensure that all your workers are rich, or at least middle-class.

When nonprofits brag about how little of their budget goes to "overhead" and "salaries", as if those terms were synonymous with "waste," what they're really saying is "All our employees are financially comfortable enough that they don't worry about being underpaid. Our staff has no socioeconomic diversity, and probably very little ethnic or cultural diversity." ***

This isn't a secret. I'm not blowing anything wide open here. People very openly admit that they think underpaid workers are better, because they're "not in it for the money." This is frequently cited as a reason, for example, that private school teachers are "better" than public school teachers -- they're paid less, so they're not "in it for the money," so they must be working out of the goodness of their hearts. I keep seeing these cursed ads for a pet-sitting service where the petsitters aren't paid, which is a selling point, because they're "not in it for the money."

"In it for the money" is the worst thing a worker could be, of course. Heaven forbid they be so greedy and entitled and selfish as to expect their full-time labor to enable them to pay for basic living expenses. I get this all the time as a public library worker, when I point out how underfunded and underpaid we are. "But... you're not doing it for the money, right?" And I'm supposed to laugh and say "No, no, I'd do it for free, of course!"

Except, see, I have these pesky little human needs, like food. And I can't get a cart full of groceries and explain to the cashier that I don't have any money, but I have just so much job satisfaction!

And it's gendered, of course it's gendered. The subtext of "But you're not doing it for the money, of course" is "But how much pin money do you really need, little lady? Doesn't your husband give you a proper allowance?"

Conceptually, it's just an extension of the upper-class cultural norm that "polite" (rich) people "don't talk about money" (because if you have to think about how much money you have or how much you need, you're insufficiently rich).

*Gendered language very much intentional.

**Disabled people are more likely to be in the first category (most disabled people are poor, and being disabled is expensive), but are usually talked about as if they're in the second category. We're told that disabled people sorting clothing for $1.03 an hour are "So happy to be here" and "Just want to be included," and it's not like they need the money, since, as we all know, disability benefits are ample and generous [heavy sarcasm].

***Unless, of course, they're a nonprofit whose "mission" involves "job placement," in which case what they're saying is "We exploit the poor and desperate people we're purporting to help." Either way, "We pay our employees like crap" is nothing to brag about.

[reality-shitting]

General realizations ab shifting that helped me

The void is not a realm or a place- it is YOU. You ARE the Void. The Void is solely the awareness of being, fully.

You are not ONE being. Think of the consciousness in you as being interconnected with all other infinite versions of you. These interconnections converge into your full consciousness, the true YOU. It's almost Eldritch to think about.

Something I'm just now thinking of, perhaps this means the subconscious is all other versions of you- you're separated and cut off from experiencing the entirety of being, but that entirety is still there, guiding you from behind the scenes.

No matter what the assumption, "I am" is true. I am kind, as my actions and thoughts show, but I'm also cruel and cold-hearted, as may be the perception of another. I think I'm funny, but someone else may think I'm cheesy- therefore, I am both. And this also goes for the personas of myself in other realities. I am everything. Simultaneously, this also means I am Nothing. I simply am.

To add to the points above, I believe this "Eldritch" conglomerate is what we call the Void state, and would explain why every manifestation happens instantly once we reach this state. Think of it like accessing the files in an infinite data base- all you need to do is find the files you're looking for and download them.

As much as people will try to stress things like "you need to let go" or realizing that shifting is easy, you won't truly be able to understand what they're saying until you experience it.

All things exist at once and every inconceivably small action creates a new reality. As small as "this single cell from 7000 years ago died .000000001 seconds prematurely", and smaller.

Shifting IS easy- in the same way that gleeking or stretching is easy. Some people are able to do it on command or go further than others with no training whatsoever. Others may do it accidentally and sporadically. This does not mean the latter are unable to do these things at will, but they simply need a bit of help learning to do it on command.

Question stressing you out? "But what about this plot hole?", "How does XYZ work??", "What will happen back in my OR???"- STOP. No need to stress yourself over that, this by itself I feel cost me years on my journey. Everything will work out. It doesn't matter how, but it will, and it will either even itself out or be in your favor. Don't even think about those things. Relax.

Another one that held me back MASSIVELY. Struggling to visualize your DR? "I know it has THIS SPECIFIC TABLE in this SPECIFIC place and everything has to be perfect"! No. Your visualization does Not need to be perfect. Nor does it have to be "accurate", really. Once you just let your mind wander and let your subconscious make up it's own layout, it'll help you slip in much more easily. I put so much pressure on myself to make sure I was visualizing my specific reality, and it became so much easier when I just trusted myself to build it up from my subconscious instead of "forcing" a look

They say once it's in the 4D (imagination), it's already real. That's why you're encouraged to embody, think, act, feel as your DR self. Like playing pretend as a kid, you'll be so focused on your imagination, you don't even realize you're in your OR. If you don't shift through that alone, it certainly helps make you feel far more connected. This is also why I came up with the Furina method (although I suppose it's debatable if I really "came up" with it)

Methods/Advice are like pants. Some are too itchy, some are too tight, some you like the feel of but there's just some small flaw. When you find what you were missing, what you needed to hear, it'll be a perfect fit.

[okwonyo]

CAN YOU SEE ME？ IM WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME ..

──── 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇.

bsf!enhypen x fem!rea 7OO non-idol au fluff potential future relationship ૮(^﹏^ ! skinship jealousy 【 MUSÉE 】

じや wrote this in a rush ! enjoy 🎀

rbs ✶ comments please + daily

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 ｡ ｡ watches you from a distance. with his eyes wide as a deer caught in the headlights, he doesn’t say anything or does anything about it— he just watches. he can’t help but observe your movements, the way you laugh or how you tuck your hair behind your ear while you talk to the other man. he studies you, sadness in his eyes, trying to find out if you are interested in someone other than him or not. “what?” you ask him when you see the grimace on his face. instead of answering, he questions you too, “do you like him?” relief washes over him in a wave when you shake your head, “i thought we were just talking but he wanted more,” then you add, “i’d rather spend time with you”.

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

𝐉𝐀𝐘 ｡ ｡ is always near you. in any circumstances, in any sort of place. if you are near, he is too— almost as if he was your bodyguard or, you as you prefer to say, guardian angel. any person that approaches you, approaches him too and needs to get approved by him to even talk to you. therefore, there is no need to explain that when a guy tries to talk to you, they get hit by a presence impossible to ignore right behind you. the menacing glares can make anyone pale and stumble over their words in front of you. and the funniest part, is that you are well aware of that but decide to act clueless— always shooting a fake confused look at him before smiling sweetly when yet another man runs away from you.

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 ｡ ｡ as your known best friend, many people come to him when they wonder if you are single and try to find a way to ask you out. unfortunately for them, he is not only your best friend but also desperately and irrevocably in love with you. so, in lieu of giving proper answers and advice, he assures them that you are already taken, by no one else but him. and to be completely honest, it works quite well. he even likes to, just for the sake of the silly little lie— of course, be really clingy in front of others. you don’t mind, he has always been like that, and it makes him happy to touch you for a second and be your lover. even if it’s through everyone’s eyes but yours.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 ｡ ｡ he has a special radar for whoever has romantic interests towards you. i mean, he would know how having a crush ok you feels like. since he has been in love with you since primary school. so, where are both around someone who seems to like a you a little bit too much, he starts his extra-clingy and affectionate best friend act. draping his arm on your shoulders, talking to you nonstop and asking for your attention as soon as your eyes go on anywhere else but him. “are you drunk?” you laugh all of the time, not even annoyed in the slightest. he is drunk, drunk in love.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 ｡ ｡ he is unable to control his face when a guy comes to talk to you. he stares at him with a disgusted and utterly offended expression on the surface of his face. as soon as romance is being involved, he tugs you close without thinking— the petname ‘sweetheart’ even slip out. you don’t seem to mind, you only excuse yourself to your other interlocutor before focusing fully on your best friend. when you don’t look, he shoots to the flabbergasted man a very proud grin. he loves to be your favorite.

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 ｡ ｡ he is flabbergasted, took over by immense disbelief and utter shock. he just watched the cashier shamelessly flirt with you— right in front of hom, without decorum. yes, he is not your boyfriend, but come on! he believes that the cashier should have been a little bit ashamed at least. “please,” he pleads as soon as you get out of the shop. “don’t tell me you are going to go out with that guy.” you immediately smile, a teasing question already tingling your tongue, “why? are you jealous?” his heart drops, his face reddens and he starts walking as you chuckle.

𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 ｡ ｡ uses all his strength to try to not be jealous— alas, he fails as soon as he even thinks about you and that ‘nobody’ together. he looks at you with sad eyes and a frown, as if he was a kicked puppy, whereupon you tell him you got asked on a date by the stranger. “wouldn’t you rather spend time with me?” he asks you, and you giggle. “what? this guy will be boring in two weeks but, i will be fun forever.” this idiot isn’t even able to contain his happiness when you tell him that he is right, that you will stay with him tonight. he is so happy that he hugs you, tight.

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open & network : @sgz-net

[munsonsmixtapes]

Flattery Works With Me

Eddie Munson x shy!fem!reader

summary: with a predicament, the boys beg you to ask Eddie to postpone a DnD session because they know he will do anything you ask

part two

The conversations that were happening throughout the cafeteria rang in your ears as you headed to the table that you always sat at. The usual suspects were all there and you were going to take your seat right next to Eddie just like always. 

You were nervous to speak to him, not only because you were shy, but also because you had been meaning to ask him if the DnD session for that night could be postponed because you had a lot of homework. But you knew how he felt about that sort of thing so you were dreading it, hoping that he would agree just this once. 

Before you could sit, though, you could see Dustin, Lucas, and Mike all arguing a little ways away from the table. From the looks of it, it seemed to be pretty heated and there was no way you were getting in the middle of that. You hated hearing people argue, the loud voices always making you feel anxious because you didn’t have control of the situation. And you liked having control, craved it, even. 

But as soon as you set your tray down on the table, Lucas waved you over. You didn’t know what he was wanting, but you reluctantly made your way over to the boys, your curiosity piqued. You now had to know what their little spat had to do with you. 

“What’s going on?” You asked and Dustin was about to speak before Mike cut him off. That was something that happened often considering that Mike didn’t like how slowly Dustin would take to explain the situation. 

“Look,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. “We have a prior commitment and can’t make it to the session tonight.” You just knew that they were only telling you that because they wanted you to ask Eddie. 

“Correction: Mike was out late with El last night and got grounded so he can’t go to the session,” Lucas corrected with a roll of his eyes. 

“We were wondering if you’d talk to Eddie for us?” Dustin looked at you with hopeful eyes and the smile on his face made you want to pinch his little cheeks. 

“Why me?” You knew exactly why, but you wanted confirmation that Eddie did feel how you thought he did. That you weren’t just being delusional. Because that had happened so many times; you having a crush on someone and your feelings not being reciprocated in any way shape or form. 

“Are you kidding? The man is in love with you.” You scoffed at the comment, but couldn’t help but feel heat rise to your cheeks. Could it have been possible? You supposed you were going to have to ask, but you just couldn’t get yourself to. Asking him to postpone the session was one thing, but asking if he had feelings for you? Absolutely not. 

“Yeah, he’ll do anything you say.” There was some truth to that and if you had more confidence, you would have tested just how far you could get by batting your lashes and putting on a flirty tone. “So will you please ask him?” You were going to ask him anyway, but now there was pressure on you to actually make the move.

“Why don’t you ask him?” You didn’t understand why it had to be you. Surely he would have postponed it for them, right? 

Mike rolled his eyes and made a beeline for Eddie and you watched the conversation, barely picking up what they were saying, but Eddie definitely didn’t look happy. He then waved Mike off and the boy gave you a look as if to say “See?” 

“I told you, he won’t listen to us. But with you? I think we have a shot.” 

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. You really didn’t believe them, because why would Eddie have been interested in you? You had barely uttered a full sentence to the man in the few months that you’d known him so there was no possible way that he could have liked you like that. 

“Please?” Dustin begged one more time and the three of them jutted out their bottom lips, their eyes pleading. God, you really were a pushover. 

“Well, I do have a lot of homework to do tonight.” 

“I knew she’d do it,” Mike nodded with a smile and you ignored him, taking a deep breath and heading over to the metal head who was sitting at the end of the table. 

Eddie took no time to turn to you, a bright smile appearing on his face. You were so pretty that it was unfair and he kept wondering to himself what he had done to have been so lucky to have you in his life. He thought your shyness was adorable, the way he’d have to lean forward to hear what you were saying because of how soft spoken you were. 

And the dresses you always wore nearly killed him. The way they swung when you walked and how everyone would stare at you in the school hallway, he wondered how you didn’t realize just how beautiful you were. Surely you had to have known, but with the way you were always so surprised when he complimented you, it was clear that you had no idea. 

“Hi, Eddie,” you greeted him, trying your best to maintain eye contact with him, every time you caught sight of that beautiful brown color, you knew you’d be a goner. They were hypnotizing, so fucking pretty that it should have been a crime. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled, turning fully in his chair to face you. “Take a seat.” If he knew it wouldn’t have made you uncomfortable, he would have offered his lap. 

You hesitantly sat in the seat next to him and he could tell you were uneasy, your anxiety palpable. He let his hand inch towards yours underneath the table, letting his pinky stroke yours gently as if asking for permission to take it. Without a word, you wrapped your pinky around his, ignoring his gaze, unpacking your lunch with your free hand.

You felt your anxiety melt away as you felt his pinky squeeze yours gently, as if to tell you that he was right there for you. And he was. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, because at that point, you were his number one priority and he would stop at nothing to help you. He wished it was possible to go into your mind and quiet the voices that were always whispering to you.

“Can I ask you something,” you asked, feeling your hands shake as you realized what you were about to do. Your voice was barely above a whisper, but Eddie just leaned forward so he could hear you. His hearing wasn’t that great anyway, but he actually kind of liked that you were so soft spoken so he had an excuse to get closer to you. 

“Anything,” he replied, giving your pinky another squeeze and you beckoned him forward. Eddie leaned closer to you with no question and you nervously reached up and tucked some hair behind his ear, cupping your hand around it before leaning in and whispering into it. 

“I-I have a lot of homework to do tonight and I was wondering if it’d be okay if we postponed the session tonight?” You asked and felt your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for his answer. You pulled away from him and bit down on your bottom lip and Eddie had to stop himself from staring, wanting to pull your lip from your teeth and kiss you, not giving a single fuck about who was looking. 

You were so goddamn adorable that he felt his chest ache. Didn’t you know that he would do anything for you? Just one bat of those eyelashes and he would have even been willing to commit murder if it meant that you would give him even a sliver of a chance. 

“Yeah,” he nodded his head furiously. “No problem. You know flattery works with me," he winked, giving you a nudge. He hadn’t even given his decision a second thought as he stood up from the table, his mushy feelings subsiding as he took on his authoritative role. 

“Alright, everyone listen up,” he said, his voice a little too loud for your liking. “The session tonight is being postponed until next week because y/n has homework to do.” You turned to the others at the table and they all groaned, digging into their pockets and pulling out money that Dustin was gratefully taking, thanking them all for the cash. 

You could hear grumbles from the others, upset that not only was there not going to be a session that night, but also because they now were out five dollars. It was seemingly a lose-lose. You turned to Eddie who was already looking at you, a warm smile playing on his pretty pink lips. 

He then leaned down and put his lips right by your ear, his hot breath on your skin making you shudder. His hand fell to your shoulder and the way his hair was fanning around you made your cheeks heat even more. 

“I can help you with your homework if you need it.” He pulled away so that your faces were only inches apart, that stupid smirk still evident on his lips. 

“I-I’d like that,” you nodded. 

“It’s a date,” he said, shooting you a wink before sitting back down in his chair. You lowered your head and began eating your lunch, letting yourself come up with things to do with Eddie because there was no way you were actually going to do your homework.

[rafecameronssl4t]

What's ours || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: canon fic based off this scene in s4 ep6!!!!

Warnings: angst!!!

Word count: 2, 458

A/n: HAD to write abt this scene

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

"Rafey?" your voice rings out as you step out of the shared bedroom, the soft sound of your bare feet padding against the wooden floor. "'M out here on the porch," his voice calls back, low and calm, carrying just a hint of warmth. A smile spreads across your lips as you pick up your pace, excitement bubbling in your chest. Sliding the glass door, you step onto the porch, the late afternoon sunlight casting a golden glow across everything it touches.

There he is, lounging casually on the couch, his polo clinging to his broad shoulders and biceps in a way that makes your stomach flutter. "Hey, baby," Rafe greets, his smile wide and genuine, the kind that always has a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room. "Hey," you murmur, your eyes locking with his. You pause for a moment, giving him the chance to drink in the sight of you.

With a playful glint in your eye, you do a small twirl, letting the flow of your new dress spin out around you, the fabric catching the evening light. You watch Rafe’s reaction carefully, feeling a thrill at how his gaze moves down your figure. "What do you think?" You ask, the words soft but full of a quiet confidence. "It looks good," Rafe says after a beat, his eyes lingering on you for a fraction longer than you expect.

There’s a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his lips, and when he leans back against the cushions of the couch, his eyes never leave you. "You look good," he adds, his voice deeper now, like the words are heavy with more than just praise. You beam at his words, crossing the porch to close the distance between you. "Where you going lookin’ all pretty?" he teases, spreading his legs slightly as he pats his thighs, his grin turning sly.

The gesture is an open invitation, and you happily accept, settling onto his lap. Your arm slides naturally around his shoulders, and his hands find their place on your knee, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "Just shopping with the girls," you explain, playing with the collar of his shirt absentmindedly. "There's this new boutique that just opened up—" You’re cut off by the sound of the front door creaking open and a hesitant voice calling out, "Hello?"

Your brows furrow as you glance at Rafe. "Were you expecting someone?" you ask, your voice laced with curiosity. Rafe exhales a sharp breath, "Yeah," he admits nonchalantly. "Sarah." Your surprise is instant, and your voice reflects it. "Sarah? She agreed to meet up with you?" He chuckles, the sound warm and a little cynical. "Yeah, well… desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess." Before you can process his words, Sarah’s footsteps sound on the porch, slow but deliberate.

Your eyes shift to the doorway, and soon enough, her figure appears. She glances at you briefly as you move to sit beside Rafe, her gaze cool but not unfriendly, before turning her attention to Rafe. "Hey," he greets her with exaggerated enthusiasm, clapping his hands together with theatrical flair. "Thanks for showing up. Good work." Sarah doesn’t miss a beat, rolling her eyes as if she’s heard this act too many times. "Please, stop," she says flatly.

Rafe grins even wider, running a hand through his buzzed hair, clearly enjoying the reaction. You shift slightly, about to stand to give them space, but Rafe’s hand tightens gently on your waist, silently urging you to stay. "I don’t want to argue, Rafe," Sarah sighs, crossing her arms as she looks at him. Her tone is exasperated, but there’s something softer beneath it. "We already have enough people against us."

An awkward silence settles over the porch, the only sound being the occasional chirping of birds in the trees. The air grows heavy with the weight of unspoken things, a tension that seems to hum between them. You clear your throat, trying to ease the tension. "Can I get you something to drink? Iced tea, maybe?" you offer, your voice polite, even as your eyes flicker between Sarah and Rafe, sensing the undercurrent of frustration.

Sarah’s eyes meet yours, her gaze flicking over the space with an almost detached interest before she shakes her head. "No, thanks. I don’t plan on staying long." You nod, the smile on your lips soft but understanding. There’s something about the way she holds herself—tired, wary—that makes you feel a strange sense of empathy. It’s clear she’s not here for pleasantries.

"Kiara mentioned…" Sarah starts, her voice uncertain as she scans the porch, her eyes flitting from the furniture to the surroundings, clearly uncomfortable. "That you might be able to help." She directs the latter half of her sentence at Rafe, her gaze lingering on him, but there’s a hesitation in her tone, a quiet pleading buried beneath the words. Rafe pulls at the sleeve of his polo, his fingers tugging at the fabric.

He doesn’t look up immediately but instead turns his attention to the ground in front of him, gathering his thoughts. "Uh, no. No, not with the land stuff. You guys are on your own with that," he responds firmly, his gaze briefly flicking up to meet Sarah's. There's an almost apologetic edge to his words, but it's clear that he's drawing a hard line in the sand. Sarah’s expression falls, disappointment flashing across her face, her shoulders sagging slightly as if the weight of unspoken words is pulling her down.

"Right," she mutters softly, the edge of frustration in her voice barely concealed. She pauses, taking a breath before looking back at Rafe. "Sorry," Rafe adds, his voice quieter, almost regretful, but the frustration is still evident. "But…" He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the papers scattered across the table before him, the flicker of something heavier passing through his eyes.

"But there's… there's something else I wanted to talk to you about," he says, his tone shifting. It’s not just business now—there’s a vulnerability that creeps in, something raw beneath the surface. You watch him, your eyes tracing the subtle movements of his hand as he runs his fingers across his lips, trying to gather the right words. You stay silent, your own gaze fixed on his profile, your heart picking up pace as you sense the shift in the air.

This is no longer just a casual conversation—it feels more like a breaking point, something much deeper. "So when…" Rafe starts, his voice faltering slightly, the words coming out with an almost painful deliberation. He takes a moment, his eyes lingering on the papers again, then he looks down at your left hand resting on his shoulder, his gaze momentarily softening when it lands on the ring you wear—the one his mother gave him.

"Dad died," he finally says, the words coming out like a slow exhale, as if speaking them is harder than he’d like to admit. You feel the change in his tone immediately, the sadness in his voice gripping you, and you instinctively start rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder with your thumb, your mind connecting the dots, knowing how touchy the subject of Ward’s death always is for Rafe.

"...the first time," Rafe adds, his voice quiet, as though even acknowledging that death was not the final one is too painful to process fully. "um, he said I got a quarter of what he had," Rafe continues, his voice distant now, lost in the past as he leans forward, flicking through the papers with a focus that feels almost obsessive. "Yeah, he said I got a quarter too," Sarah chimes in, nodding slowly.

There’s something tired in her voice, a recognition of the weight of their father’s legacy that neither of them ever truly asked for. "But you didn’t get it, did you?" Rafe’s words are sharp, his gaze intense as it locks onto Sarah. There’s a challenge in his eyes, a quiet demand for the truth. Sarah hesitates for a moment, the silence stretching longer than it should. You can see her thinking, weighing her words carefully before answering.

"No," Sarah says finally, her voice quiet but firm. "Yeah, well, good luck trying to get that from Rose's greedy paws," Rafe scoffs, the bitterness dripping from his words. "She's got that money locked down tight." Sarah’s brows knit together, "well, I keep trying to call," she retorts, her tone sharp. "She won’t even let me talk to Wheezie." She crosses her arms, her gaze flickering away as if saying it out loud makes the situation even more real.

Rafe leans forward, his elbows digging into his knees as his expression hardens. "Yes, yes, that’s what I’m saying," he says, his voice rising slightly. He locks eyes with Sarah, a fiery determination in his blue gaze. "We’re a family, and I’m not—" He cuts himself off, inhaling deeply as he shakes his head. "I’m not even allowed to talk to my own sister? That’s not fair, Sarah. You know that."

Sarah’s jaw tightens, and she slowly nods, her lips pressed together as she looks down. "And then Rose," Rafe continues, his arm gesturing wide as his frustration boils over. "She just gets to keep all that gold for herself? What gives her the right? That’s not what Dad intended." His fist slams into the wooden coffee table with a resounding thud, causing Sarah to flinch in her seat. The tension spikes in the air, and you instinctively place your hand on his shoulder, your touch firm yet gentle, hoping to ground him.

"That’s not what Dad wanted," Rafe repeats, his voice cracking slightly as he pounds the table again. Sarah visibly recoils this time, her discomfort palpable. "And it pisses me off!" Rafe’s voice rises, his anger spilling out unchecked. But before his hand can connect with the table a third time, you reach forward and grab it, your fingers curling around his. "Rafe," you say softly, your voice calm but firm. His eyes dart to you, and for a moment, the fire in them dims.

He exhales sharply, leaning back slightly as he glances at Sarah, who keeps her gaze down, avoiding his. "That’s our money, okay?" Rafe insists, his tone quieter but still edged with frustration. Sarah lets out a shaky exhale, her hands fidgeting in her lap as Rafe sighs heavily, running a hand over his buzzed hair. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable, until you place your palm on Rafe’s thigh, your thumb brushing soothingly against the fabric of his shorts.

He glances at you, and you offer him a small, reassuring smile. He manages a faint one in return before looking back at Sarah. "I don’t know about you, but I really—I need that money," Rafe admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability. Sarah’s gaze snaps to him, her expression hardening. "And what about the gold cross you stole?" she counters, her tone sharp and accusatory.

"It was gold-plated," Rafe shoots back with a shrug, rubbing his eyes as if the conversation is draining him. "It was a good score. It’s not endless. It’s not like the Merchant gold, so..." His voice trails off, exhaustion creeping in. "I’m so sorry to hear that," Sarah says, her words laced with sarcasm. Rafe exhales through his nose, standing abruptly, "I don't know. I was just thinking, um." Both you and Sarah track his movements as he walks to the porch railing, gripping it tightly before turning to face her.

"You know, you and me," he starts, gesturing between them, "we try to get Wheezie back." Sarah’s eyes narrow in disbelief. "How?" she asks, her voice flat, as if she’s waiting for him to say something ridiculous. "I don’t know, but..." Rafe admits, pacing back to the table. He moves the glass in front of him before perching on the edge, leaning closer to Sarah. His proximity makes her shift uncomfortably, but she doesn’t move away.

"And then we try to get the money back," Rafe continues, his voice steady and resolute. You can see the determination etched into his features, the way his jaw sets and his eyes gleam with a fervour you know all too well. He pauses, his gaze fixed on Sarah. "Which is why we need to work together," he says, his tone almost pleading now. "Just like Dad taught us. We align our interests." Sarah’s lips press into a thin line, her eyes fixed on the table as Rafe quietly watches.

"I just thought, you and me," Rafe begins again, his voice softer. "We can get back what’s ours." There’s a beat of silence, the weight of his words hanging between them. Sarah bites her lip, her gaze darting to Rafe, then away again. "Look, I’m trying here—" Rafe says, but Sarah cuts him off, rising to her feet abruptly. "No," she says firmly, shaking her head. "I’m sorry."

She turns and strides off the deck, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoing behind her. You stand, moving to where Rafe is still perched on the table, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing gently as he lets out a frustrated groan. "Can’t she see that I’m trying?" he mutters, his voice laced with annoyance. "Like seriously—" "Shh," you murmur, your thumbs massaging the tense muscles in his shoulders.

"I know, baby. I know you’re trying." You move to stand in front of him, slotting yourself between his legs as he rests his forehead against your stomach. Your manicured fingers run through his buzzed hair, the rhythmic motion calming him as he exhales deeply. "When will she realise that we’re on her side here?" he whispers, his voice tinged with despair.

"You just have to give her time," you reply softly, your fingers stilling for a moment. "She wants to trust you, but she can’t just yet, Rafe." He tilts his head to look up at you, his blue eyes glassy. "I’ve already lost Dad," he says quietly, his voice cracking. "I don’t want to lose her—I don’t want our family to fall apart." Your heart clenches at the raw vulnerability in his tone. You cradle his face gently, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones as you hold his gaze.

"Listen to me, Rafe," you say, your voice steady and full of conviction. "You won’t lose Sarah, and your family won’t fall apart." His lips press into a thin line, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "How can you be so sure?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just know," you reply softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Because I believe in you."

[leilakisakabiri]

Miami Hot Lap (CL)

Summary: You're forced to do a Miami Hot Lap with your boyfriend.

Warning(s): Just fluff.

A/N: Ahh I love this concept!! Requests are open for Charles and Lando.

Word Count: 800+

Masterlist

Being invited to an F1 race through a brand seemed like a fun idea at first. You would get to see your boyfriend for the first time in weeks, watch the race in your hometown, and somehow still be able to call it work. It was a win-win situation.

That was until they approached you with a video idea.

"So since you're working with one of our sponsored brands for the weekend, a Miami native, and dating a driver, we thought it was only fair to ask you to do the Miami hot lap video." The F1 content manager explained.

"Miami hot lap?" You questioned, unfamiliar with what they wanted you to do.

"Yeah y'know just go for a few laps on the track with a driver. For you, it would be Charles of course." She assured.

You shook your head rapidly, shrinking back, "No thank you. I don't drive with Charles."

"But he's your boyfriend? Surely you've driven with him before?"

You sighed, "Yeah in a city, where he's forced to follow the speed limit, I would never be able to handle going that fast. He's too scary without restrictions."

She furrowed her eyebrows, opening her mouth to respond before she was cut off.

"Spreading lies about me again?"

You felt your lips upturn in a smile as he came up behind you, fingers entwining with yours as he kissed your cheek.

You turned to face him, attempting to be firm, "I love you, but I'm not driving with you." You repeated.

One hour later you found yourself being strapped into the passenger seat of his car, cursing yourself for giving in after he convinced you it wouldn't be that bad.

The camera sat on the dashboard, recording the both of you.

"Go slow," You warned, as he got the green light to pull away.

"We'll get no views then." He argued.

You started at him in disbelief, "Would you rather have more views on a video or have a girlfriend in one piece?"

It was quiet for a beat too long and you put your hand up, "You know what don't answer that. I don't want to know."

"So how do you like driving with me so far?" He asked once you made it past the first lap.

You nodded, "Not bad, right now I feel like we're going to get food."

He smirked, "Well in that case go on and get comfortable."

You eyed him skeptically but you decided to trust him, "Okaaay," you dragged out the word as you slouched a bit more in the seat, letting your body relax against the seat, going as far as to admire the view outside the window.

The peace only lasted for a second before Charles was slamming on the pedal, sending the car lurching forward at record speeds.

While he got a shot of adrenaline, you felt your stomach somersault as your body jolted backward.

“Charles. Charles!!” Your voice filled with panic, fingers grabbing onto the side of the car for dear life, eyes wide as you refused to take your eyes off the rapidly passing road in front of you.

He laughed at your reaction, only stopping once he realized how serious you were. He dropped a hand down to squeeze yours, reassuring you, “Relax I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The supposedly sweet action had the opposite effect, “Keep both your hands on the wheel!” You shrieked, sending him into another fit of laughter.

You put a hand to your forehead in shock and disbelief, "We're going to die."

You felt hysterical, and his shit-eating grin only irked you further.

"We're not going to die. I promise." He swore, trying to calm you down.

You shoved his shoulder, "Your promises mean nothing to me anymore Charles. We're going to die and it's all your fault." you deadpanned.

“Y/n amor I’m barely pushing 90 mph.” He revealed.

Your body froze, before finally losing some tension, “Oh."

You checked the meter seeing that he was telling the truth, "It feels a lot faster,” you argued, “Especially with the sharp turns," you elaborated.

He agreed with you but not before side-eyeing you, "Right."

"So should we go faster?" He proposed.

"Charles," You warned.

"Why so formal?"

You glanced at each other for a second and already knew what would happen from the unfiltered excitement in his eyes, "Hold on amour."

You watched in horror as the meter rapidly rose hitting up to 130mph, you mouthed a "help me" to the camera.

“I think I’m gonna throw up everywhere.” You groaned once the car had finally come to a halt.

Charles patted your head affectionately as you laid your head against your knees, “You’ll be ok.”

“No. I’m going to projectile vomit on this dashboard,” you warned, “I’m never driving with you again.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at your comment but didn't say anything, instead facing the camera.

"Well thanks for joining us today, if you want more videos like this-"

You lifted your head off your knees when you noticed he hadn't finished his sentence, finding him staring at you expectedly.

"Like and subscribe?" you questioned, voice hoarse.

"Exactly. See you guys later!" He waved bye to the camera and moved your head to lay on his lap so you could rest.