#i wish i had 1 billion dollars

[aropride]

i might MIGHT big might get a piercing on sunday. KNOCK ON WOOD.

[copepods]

bird collective is torturing me by having literally every clothing item in their store be the fucking coolest ever and also so expensive

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 2 ᰔᩚ

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

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

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex » 【note, there is physical & emotional intimidation in this chapter (from naoya not satoru), this is a form of domestic abuse, reader discretion advised】

ꨄ words: 12.5k

ꨄ a/n. firstly, wow thank you so much for all your kind words on ch 1 :") secondly, this series may be more than 3 chapters (maybe more like 4 or 5?) idk i'm still working out the pacing rn bc i really want the relationship to feel fluid and natural. this chapter ended up being much longer than i anticipated 😅 but as always, i would love to hear your thoughts and hope you enjoy ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

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ch 2 // under the spotlight

Becoming a mother makes you realize you can do almost anything one-handed—though honestly, sometimes you wish you had an abundance of limbs.  

Especially now. Your apartment is a whirlwind of activity – scattered toys, half packed bags and the remnants of breakfast still on the table. You’re in the middle of prepping your daughter’s essentials, trying to make sure you don’t forget anything important. Her preferred snacks, extra clothes, diapers, and a few of her favorite toys all stuffed into a bag.

“Mama, mama, look!”

Haru’s innocent voice rings out like a melody amidst your morning clamor. Halting your frantic movements, you’re drawn to her face, lit up with pure joy as she holds up her beloved Pikachu plushie. The bright yellow toy bounces in her hands as she makes it dance.

Her innocence provides a brief, much-needed, calm to the storm of nerves brewing inside of you. After all, today’s the day you’re meeting with Satoru and his lawyer to finalize the marriage contract. Your marriage—weird.

It feels odd saying it, the word foreign on your tongue. Marriage is a concept you never thought you’d be rushing into, especially not like this.

Once upon a time, you thought you’d marry Naoya Zenin.

Back then, you were so in love with his charm, his confidence, and the way he seemed to have everything figured out. But reality had a way of shattering those illusions.

His charm turned to arrogance, his confidence to control. It wasn’t long before you realized he cared more about owning you than loving you, and now you’re left with nothing but heartache and a broken family.

But amidst your turmoil you found a precious gift—Haru.

Her infectious giggle is a stark contrast to the chaos within your mind—it always manages to pull you back from your whirlwind of worries.

You’ll do anything in your power to keep her smiling, even if that means marrying Satoru Gojo, the man who is guilty for an abundance of your headaches.

With a deep breath, you zip up your duffle bag and turn to Haru who is lovably babbling to Pikachu.

“Come here, sweetie,” you say, kneeling down with her small jacket in your hand.

She toddles over to you, clutching her comforting plushie, eyes wide and curious.

Easing her tiny arms into the sleeves, you gently help Haru into her jacket.

“We’re going to meet some new friends today,” you tell her softly, fastening the buttons with care. “One of them is named Mr. Gojo.”

“Mr. Gojo?” she echoes, face scrunching up in concentration.

Truth be told, you weren't planning on bringing Haru to this meeting, but you’re faced with a lack of options, especially since technically, you’re fired.

Well… temporarily.

Until Satoru rehires you, paying the nanny isn’t feasible with your already stretched finances, Utahime, your ever-reliable friend, is unavailable. Your neighbor, who sometimes steps in to help, is out of town, and your mom is… your mom – as undependable as ever.

At this point you'd rather be caught dead than call Naoya again.

Calling him yesterday, when your nanny bailed, was a moment of pure desperation, a lapse in judgment driven by the chaos of the day and the fear of getting fired. Not your proudest moment.

It’s no surprise he’ll likely use it against you—hold it over your head like a weapon. It’s a pattern you’re all too familiar with.

But today marks the beginning of a new chapter, one that you’re determined to make the best of for both you and your daughter—once this marriage is finalized, you’ll be back to earning a steady income again.

A sigh escapes your lips as you focus back on Haru, her innocent eyes look up at you expectantly.

“Yes, Mr. Gojo,” you repeat, giving her a reassuring smile as you reach down to tie her shoelaces. “We’re going on an adventure today, just you and Mommy.”

“An adventure!” Haru cheers, clapping her hands in unbridled excitement.

Just as you pull the last loop tight, a knock reverberates through the front door, startling you. It’s unexpected, you weren’t anticipating any visitors.

With a deep breath, you twist the handle and pull the door open. The sight that greets you sends a cold wave of dread crashing over you, your heart pounding in your chest.

Speak of the devil—Naoya.

He has an uncanny knack for impeccable timing, always appearing when he’s least wanted.

His presence is as imposing as ever—a smirk crowned on his lips, posture relaxed, hands in his pockets—exuding an air of ownership over everything that’s around him.

As if he owns you.

Damn it. You really can’t deal with this right now; you don’t have the time. Satoru is expecting you, and you need to get moving.

Leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, he surveys you with that annoyingly smug expression plastered upon his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't my two favorite girls," he drawls, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

The frustration you feel from Naoya is vastly different from what you experience with Satoru. With Satoru, it's harmless—like dealing with a mischievous child. But with Naoya, every sight of him makes you want to flee, as if each encounter is a battle you barely survive. He reopens old wounds that never truly healed, leaving you raw and exposed.

Every fiber of your being screams in protest at the sight of him, but you force yourself to maintain composure—refusing to let him see the effect he has on you.

"What do you want, Naoya? I really don’t have time for this today."

Turning away from him, you begin gathering the last of Haru’s things with brisk, precise movements, making it clear you have no intention of prolonging this interaction.

He steps inside, smirk widening with satisfaction and tone laced with mock concern.

"Just thought I'd drop by and see how you're managing. Got your message. Heard you were looking for a babysitter yesterday.”

As expected—you’re really kicking yourself for calling him. His false sympathy only heightens your irritation, grating on your nerves as the condescension drips from his words like venom.

If you weren’t already leaving, you would slam the door right in his smug face.

Gritting your teeth, you attempt to keep your tone steady, for no one other than Haru.

"We're fine, Naoya. We don’t need your help."

In hopes to end this conversation quickly, you grasp Haru’s hand and attempt to brush past him. But he sidesteps, effectively forbidding your path to the door, looming like an unwanted shadow.

"Still as stubborn as ever, I see. How’s that working out for you?” he scowls as he peers through your apartment, “This place is a mess. And you don’t look like you’re dressed for work. Lost your job already?”

His words hit a nerve, you feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"We are managing just fine. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be."

But he wasn’t going to let you go so easily. His expression darkens, and as you repeatedly try to step past him, he halts you yet again, blocking your way like an insurmountable wall.

"And where exactly are you going? Shouldn't you be at work today?"

"That's none of your business. I really need to go," you retort, lifting your chin assertively as you force your way past him. Your shoulder brushes against his in a deliberate act of defiance.

The moment you cast him aside, he immediately pursues after—but choosing to ignore him, you close the door behind you, turning the lock with a decisive click.

As you start leading Haru towards the elevator, you adopt a brisk pace in hopes to put as much distance between you and Naoya as possible.

But he raises an eyebrow, smirk widening as he traverses after you. You hear his footsteps echoing down the hallway of your apartment complex.

"Oh, I think it is my business. Especially when it concerns my daughter."

Oh, please.

It’s painfully ironic how he pretends to care about Haru only when it suits him.

After you served him child support papers, he had the audacity to demand a DNA test, claiming he needed ‘proof’ that Haru was his. Of course, something like that takes time for the judge to arrange.

He knew that damn well—it was just another ploy to delay the process further.

As anger bubbles up within you, a scoff escapes your lips, teetering on the edge of a bitter laugh.

"Oh, so she’s yours when it’s convenient for you. Don't pretend you care about Haru now. You’ve done nothing but make our lives difficult."

Your movements are sharp and frantic until you finally halt in front of the elevator. Just as you press the button to descend, Naoya’s presence descends over you—suffocating like a dark cloud, his face twisting into a menacing scowl.

"Maybe if you weren’t so damn stubborn, things wouldn’t be so difficult. You know, if you ever need help, all you have to do is ask," the insincerity in his voice makes your skin crawl—as his words slither into your ears, each syllable is laced with a condescending edge.

You scoff, jabbing the button over and over again with mounting urgency. Can this damn elevator come any faster?

"Help? From you? I'd rather figure things out on my own than rely on your 'help'."

He steps closer, making you feel small and cornered. It’s a familiar tactic he would use to get his way—the accustomed sense of intimidation he used to exert over you returns, chilling your spine.

"Suit yourself. Just remember, you can’t keep this up forever. Sooner or later, you’ll realize you need me again,” his voice drops to a low, threatening whisper, the underlying menace making it clear that he relishes the control he still believes he has over you.

Suddenly, you feel small tiny hands gripping tightly onto your leg. Haru’s wide eyes dart between the two of you, her innocent face reflecting a nervous unease that she can’t fully understand—but you do.

Fuck it. Enough is enough. You can't let this continue any longer—screw the elevator.

With a determined breath, you scoop Haru into your arms, feeling her trembling slightly against you. "Come on, sweetie," you say softly.

Her tiny heart beats against your chest, mirroring your own anxiety. Holding her close, you immediately head towards the stairway, your stride quickening.

But Naoya's presence lingers, his footsteps echoing ominously after you.

“Really, Naoya?”

Oh, this is it. Your patience is wearing thin—he’s like a growth you can’t get rid of.

You feel Haru’s grip tighten around your neck as she buries her face into your shoulder. You have been trying desperately not to yell, for Haru’s sake, but at this point, Naoya is overstepping your boundaries.

“Just go away. The only thing I need from you is to hurry up and finish that damn DNA test,” you shout, refusing to look back as you head towards the stairs. “There was no reason for that bullshit; you know Haru is yours. I know you’re just trying to stall our court date,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration and anger.

Naoya’s eyes gleam with a cold amusement, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a mocking smile.

"Stalling? Hardly. You’re insane, I just want to be thorough. You should understand that, being so meticulous yourself," he sneers, tone derisively sweet.

Finally, you reach the stairway—beginning your descent, Haru clings tightly to you as Pikachu dangles precariously from each hurried step.

"This conversation is over, Naoya,” your voice echoes in the narrow space. “Stay out of our lives. I only want to see you in court."

Naoya contemplates following you, lowering himself a few steps before abruptly stopping. As his voice reverberates through the stairwell, his unsettling demand bounces off the cold concrete walls, chilling you to your core.

"For now, y/n. But remember, this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. You always come crawling back to me one way or another. You’re incapable of anything without me."

There was a time when you believed those words, but you will not fall back into that same vicious cycle.

Choosing not to respond, your resolve is sharpened with one clear goal, getting Haru and yourself out of this building as quickly as possible.

The moment you clear through the lobby door, a shaky sigh escapes your lips. This day is already starting off with a bang—hopefully it goes much better at Satoru’s.

Forcing a smile for your frightened daughter, you try to mask the tears welling up in your eyes—the tremor in your voice quaking.

“Come on honey, let’s go meet Mr. Gojo.”

Time to get this marriage finalized.

ꨄ︎

You had expectations of what Satoru’s house would be like, but even those couldn’t hold a light to the real thing—it’s a stark contrast to the modest apartment you call home.

The meticulously manicured lawn, the pristine arcadian, and the large, ornate door all showcase opulence.

It’s far more luxurious than you had imagined, making you feel distinctly out of place as you step out of your car in your worn jeans and t-shirt, hair pulled up in a lazy bun.

Wait…should you have come dressed businesslike?

But you have Haru—was this supposed to be a professional meeting? Fuck.

On top of everything else, you’re already a few minutes late. Tardiness has become a tiresome trend in your life, one that exhausts you to your very core.

Traversing the entryway, Haru grips your hand tightly as you walk through the stone pathway. Her fingers tremble slightly, perhaps from the unsettling encounter with Naoya, or perhaps from the overwhelming new environment.

Nerves simmer through you once you approach the doorway, but you resolve to mask them. You weren’t going to let Naoya ruin your day—this meeting is your chance to retake control of your life.

As you reach out and press the doorbell, a soft melodic chime resonates, echoing through the spacious foyer beyond.

Within moments, the door swings open, revealing Satoru.

You immediately feel a sense of relief as you observe him dressed surprisingly casual—a fitted blue t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and lean frame, paired with dark jeans that hug his long legs. His snowy hair remains tousled in that effortlessly stylish way, framing his strikingly handsome face.

It’s impossible to advert your eyes as he greets you with that familiarly confident smile curling upon his lips, and those vivid blue eyes, enchanting you with an intriguing glint.

“Hm, late again, I see,” Satoru teases, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if wounded with an exaggerated sigh. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show up. Here I was, thinking you might divorce me before we even get married—” he stops, lifting his brow as his gaze shifts to the small figure peeking out from behind your legs.

“Well, well, and who is this?”

Haru’s wide eyes are filled with curiosity and apprehension. She peeps out nervously, clutching her plushie’s worn, familiar fabric for comfort.

Satoru’s smile softens as he looks at the little girl, but a twinge of uncertainty tugs at him internally. Children were a mystery to him, their emotions and reactions unpredictable.

What should he say? How should he act?

A flicker of fear crosses his mind—what if he says the wrong thing and makes her cry?

Oh God…

The thought of dealing with a child's tears makes him feel out of his depth, a sensation he’s not accustomed to. Satoru finds himself in unfamiliar territory. He’s used to commanding rooms and negotiating high-stake deals, not interacting with shy children clutching stuffed toys.

But faking confidence has always worked in the business world, and he is determined to make a good impression now.

As you notice Haru’s uncertainty, you gently caress her head, delicately coaxing her out from behind your legs.

"It’s okay, sweetie. This is Mr. Gojo, can you say hi?"

There is an air about you—the gentle ease in your voice, the way you instinctively know how to comfort Haru. It stirs something within Satoru, something he can’t quite place.

All he knows it that now he really doesn’t want to fuck this up.

"I’m really sorry for bringing her along," you begin, tone earnest as you meet Satoru with an apologetic gaze. "I hope it’s okay. I just didn’t have anyone who could watch her today. But she’ll keep to herself during our meeting, I promise."

Satoru’s expression softens further as he looks at Haru, his uncertainty momentarily forgotten. She is so fragile, so docile. In her delicate features, he sees an uncanny resemblance to you—a small reflection of your strength and vulnerability intertwined.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he reassures softly. Crouching down to her level, his toothy smile is warm and inviting. “Hi there, I’m Satoru. What’s your name?”

Haru looks up at you for reassurance, her small hand tightening around your leg. Encouraged by your nod, she turns back to Satoru and whispers tentatively—

“Haru.”

Satoru grins, captivated by the softness and delicacy of Haru's voice. Though he is uncertain how to connect with a child. His mind races—

What do kids like?

What should he say next?

While his thoughts scramble, a spark of an idea forms the moment he observes Haru clutching Pikachu.

“Nice to meet you, Haru. Do you like Pokémon?”

Haru nods, her grip on the plushie relaxing slightly. There is a subtle warmth behind the apprehension in her eyes as she holds up her Pikachu toy to show Satoru.

“Yes, Pikachu.”

“Pikachu is pretty cool,” he lets out a contemplative hum as he tries to find common ground. A faint nostalgic smile plays on his features. “But you know, Digimon is even better. Have you ever heard of Agumon?”

Haru’s eyes widen with curiosity as she shakes her head, her interest clearly piqued.

Satoru’s inner child shines through—eyes sparkling with a genuine enthusiasm as his lips curl up into a grin. This is his chance to bridge the gap between them.

“Tell ya what, maybe we can watch some Digimon together sometime. How’s that sound?”

You feel Haru’s grip loosen on your leg. A faint smile touches her lips and a quiet giggle escapes as her initial shyness begins to slowly fade.

“Okay.”

There are many thoughts that come to your mind as you watch this interaction play out—the foremost being how unexpectedly gentle Satoru can be with kids. Something about him, that overconfident and sometimes arrogant man you’ve worked beside, feels different now. Almost likable.

Charming, even

But what you really can’t fathom the most is the image of a sophisticated billionaire engrossed in a kids’ cartoon. That concept alone is enough to make you suppress a laugh.

“You’re a fan of Digimon?” you raise an eyebrow.

Satoru stands up, brushing off his knees with a nonchalant shrug and a crooked smile.

“I used to watch it all the time growing up. Please, come in,” he ushers you inside the building, leading you down the grand hall.

Your breath hitches at the sight of the expansive foyer. The high ceiling, polished marble floors, and impressive chandelier casting a warm glow leave you speechless.

Following behind him, you find yourself studying Satoru’s confident strides—the movement of his back, his broad shoulders and the effortless air of authority he exudes. It’s a stark contrast to what you just witnessed moments ago with Haru.

But that alone makes him even more intriguing to you. Satoru can feel a bit like a wild card. Glimpses of tenderness hidden behind feigned aloofness—subtle playfulness followed by an exacting seriousness.

He keeps surprising you.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Digimon fan,” you remark as you follow behind him.

Satoru chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“Guilty as charged.”

You can’t help but notice the way he avoids your gaze—is he perhaps being… bashful?

Oh, this is rich.

You really would need an abundance of limbs to count on your hands the amount of times Satoru has given you shit—making your life a daily torture is his specialty after all. Perhaps that is why you couldn’t resist letting this opportunity pass up.

“Next thing you’ll tell me is that you have a secret stash of Digimon cards somewhere,” you snort.

Satoru lets out a contemplative hum.

“Well, I did have a pretty impressive collection back in the day. Who knows, maybe I still have them tucked away in a drawer somewhere.”

“Seriously?” you are unable to hide the amusement in your voice. “You, with a collection of Digimon cards? That’s something I’d pay to see.”

He rolls his eyes with a pout tugging on his lips.

“You’re enjoying this too much. Maybe I’ll dig them out for you one day. But only if you’re nice.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Me, nice to you? That’s a tall order.”

A faint chuckle leaves Satoru’s lips as the spacious foyer transitions into a grand hallway. Haru skips beside you, glancing up at Satoru with a newfound admiration.

The moment you reach a large set of intricately carved wooden doors, he pauses, turning to you with a reassuring smile before pushing them open.

Inside, a cozy yet sophisticated study awaits—shelves lined with books and a large mahogany desk dominating the room.

“Yo, Suguru,” he waves flippantly, “this is y/n and her daughter, Haru.”

Your eyes are met with a man seated behind the desk—a calm and composed air about him. He is strikingly beautiful, raven hair tied back into a bun with louse tousles framing his face. As he looks up from a stack of papers, his sharp yet gentle eyes focus on you and Haru. He rises, extending a hand with a polite smile.

“Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Suguru Geto.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” you shake his hand with a subtle nod.

The presence of another stranger causes Haru’s shyness to return as she hides behind your legs again—you kneel down, smoothing her hair gently.

“Haru,” you pull out a small bag of her favorite toys from your duffle bag, “why don’t you take a seat over there and play with your toys while Mommy talks with Mr. Gojo and Mr. Geto?”

With a light nod, Haru takes the bag and settles into a comfortable armchair in the corner of the room—spreading out her treasures with a look of concentration.

You take a seat across from Suguru, with Satoru sinking into the chair beside you—posture relaxed and seemingly indifferent.

“Alright, let’s get down to business,” Suguru leans forward, “I’ve drafted the marriage contract based on the discussions I’ve had with Satoru. I’ll walk you through the main points.”

Referencing the document upon the desk, he begins.

“Firstly, as you both know, the purpose of this marriage is strictly business-related with no romantic implications. Both parties agree to maintain the appearance of a committed relationship in public and professional settings.”

Okay, easy—right?

You nod, but in the corner of your eye you can see Satoru lounging back in his chair. The mild disinterest on his face and the nonchalant way he twirls a pen between his fingers makes you grit your teeth.

He carries a casual attitude—one you shouldn’t be surprised with at this point because it’s the same infuriating aura he brings to every business meeting. But in this case, it’s a stark contrast to the gravity of this conversation. Here you are, discussing marriage and he’s sitting here as if you’re determining what to eat for lunch.

Yup, nothing’s changed. He still aggravates the hell out of you.

“Next, the duration of the marriage is set for one year, starting from the date of signing,” Suguru continues. “There are provisions for extending or terminating the marriage early, should both parties agree.”

You absorb every word as you listen intently, but Satoru seems to be in his own world. It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes as you catch him leaning back further into his chair, now balancing it on two legs. He taps his pen against his lip thoughtfully—an indifferent expression plastered across his face.

Is he even listening?

Here you are, about to commit to a fake marriage for the sake of your job and your daughter, and Satoru looks like a bored child.

You shoot him a sideways glance, silently willing him to take this more seriously, but the moment he catches your eye he simply offers a lazy wink, making your blood boil even more.

Suguru, unfazed by Satoru's demeanor, continues outlining the contract.

“The financial arrangements are next…Satoru will include a monthly allowance to you, y/n, to cover personal and household expenses. Both parties will maintain separate bank accounts, and any joint financial decisions require mutual consent.”

You blink in surprise. A monthly allowance?

Though you had asked Satoru to cover child care, you weren’t expecting this level of financial support. Isn’t that a bit excessive?

“Wait, what?” you blurt out, unable to hide your astonishment. “A monthly allowance? For personal and household expenses?”

Satoru’s chair drops back onto all four legs with a soft thud as he leans forward, finally showing a hint of interest. He raises an eyebrow at your reaction, a lazy smile curling his lips.

“We wouldn’t want you or Haru to struggle, now, would we?”

His words sound almost considerate, but it’s the casual way he says them that makes you question his sincerity.

“Some might see you being my secretary as a conflict of interest now. You’ll still work beside me, but I can’t give you a formal salary for that role. Doing it this way ensures that all you have to worry about is playing your part. Besides,” he adds, a hint of amusement creeping back into his voice, “what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t support my wife?”

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a wary look, trying to gauge his true intentions. It makes sense… but is he mocking you, or is this his way of showing genuine concern? With Satoru, it’s always hard to tell.

Suguru clears his throat, drawing your attention back to the contract.

“Moving on to the living arrangements, you will both reside in the marital home here.”

Satoru interrupts, tone almost too nonchalant as he leans back in his chair and lazily stretches, “I’ve already arranged for a moving company to pack your things in a few days. They’ll handle everything.”

You blink, the suddenness of it all sinking in.

“Huh?”

“Problem, sweetheart?”

“I... I didn’t realize I’d be moving in so… soon. What about my apartment? I have a lease, and breaking it will incur a penalty.”

He waves off your concern with a dismissive hand, leaning back further with hands casually behind his head.

“I’ll pay it. Consider it handled. No point in you staying there when you’re supposed to be living here.”

Your eyes widen, taken aback by his insouciant dismissal of what, to you, is a significant expense.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. We need to make this look legitimate, and that means living together. Consider it part of the arrangement.”

To him, solving problems with money seamed effortless.

To you, this isn’t just a contract; it’s a complete upheaval of your life.

You’re starting to really feel the difference in your two worlds.

The abruptness is a bit overwhelming, and yet, Satoru seems to handle it with the same ease he applies to all his business dealings.

It’s a bit unnerving. It’s not that you aren’t grateful, but you can’t help but wonder…does he pity you? See you as a charity act?

Suguru, sensing your hesitation, interjects your thoughts with a soothing tone,

“It’s important for appearances that you both share a residence. It solidifies the arrangement in the eyes of your colleagues and the public.”

You take a deep breath, nodding again. “Right, I understand.”

Suguru nods, making a note on the document.

“Good. Now, let’s move on to the responsibilities and obligations. You’re both expected to attend public and social functions, maintaining the façade of a loving marriage.”

Satoru who still remains leaned in his chair, now has his head tilted back, looking up towards the ceiling.

"Oh, and by the way," he begins, eyes flicking to you while his posture remains unmoved, "we'll be getting married at the courthouse tomorrow to make things official on paper. Our public ceremony will be a grand affair, but it will come later to keep the media satisfied and appease everyone."

Tomorrow?

You give a hesitant nod, absorbing the rapid pace at which your life is changing.

“Alright…tomorrow.”

Suguru flips to the next page, “In terms of termination, either party can initiate it with a 30-day notice. Grounds for early termination include breach of contract or mutual consent. Upon termination, Satoru will provide a one-time settlement payment to you, y/n.”

You blink as Suguru pushes the contract towards you, the settlement amount highlighted in bold. Did Satoru add a few extra zeros by mistake? That number can’t be correct, right?

You glance up at Satoru, who is now inspecting his nails with a look of utter boredom.

“Is this…correct?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru looks up, meeting your eyes with a casual shrug.

“Yeah, it’s correct. Consider it a thank you for playing along.”

You shake your head slightly, trying to wrap your mind around the figure. This settlement could change your life, secure Haru’s future, and give you the stability you’ve been desperately seeking.

You could pay off your medical bills for the childbirth, could go back to school. Hell, you could be free of Naoya, you wouldn’t need him or his money.

You narrow your eyes, suspicious of his sudden generosity.

"And what’s the catch?”

Satoru chuckles, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand.

"Come on now, sweetheart. Just think of it as me taking care of my...business partner."

Suguru clears his throat, glancing between the two of you.

“Well, there is one additional detail, y/n. The settlement is contingent on maintaining a favorable public image. Any actions or behaviors that damage Satoru’s reputation would result in the forfeiture of all financial support and settlement funds.”

You blink, the implications dawning on you. Ah, of course there would be a condition—you knew better than to think he was just being generous.

“So… I’m responsible for upholding your image? What does that even mean?”

Satoru’s crooked grin widens.

“It means no scandals, no controversies. You play the part of the perfect spouse, attend events, smile for the cameras, and keep any...personal indiscretions out of the spotlight. Simple enough, right?”

Your stomach churns as you realize the depth of his control—you thought you were escaping Naoya’s grasp, but it seems control is still a prevalent force in your life.

This isn’t just a marriage of convenience; it’s a binding agreement that keeps you in line with his public persona, ensuring that any slip-up on your part will have dire financial consequences.

A part of you can’t blame him, though. It makes sense for him to take extra precautions. The Gojos have always been in the public eye, and there have been countless rumors about Satoru's refusal to settle down.

“What if something happens that’s out of my control? What if someone tries to smear my name?”

Satoru’s eyes harden slightly, though his smile remains.

“We’ll handle that on a case-by-case basis. But let’s just say I have ways of managing the media. You just need to play your part, nothing more.”

The calculated control in his tone, juxtaposed with his unwavering smile, makes your skin prickle with unease. The room feels suddenly colder, and a knot tightens in your stomach. You thought you were stepping into a partnership, but now it feels like a performance where one wrong move could cost you dearly.

Suguru interjects, his tone professional.

“This clause is essential for protecting both your interests and Satoru’s. Maintaining a positive public image is crucial for the success of this arrangement and for avoiding any complications that could arise from negative publicity.”

You take a deep breath—this was a gamble. The settlement would secure Haru’s future, your future, but your every move would be scrutinized, and any misstep could strip away the stability you desperately needed.

Your eyes wander to Haru, quietly and innocently playing with her toys. For her sake, you were willing to play Satoru’s game, even if it meant living under the constant pressure of his expectations.

“Alright,” you say firmly. “I agree to the terms.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker with satisfaction and Suguru leans forward sliding a pen towards you both.

“Good. If you both agree to these terms, we can proceed with the signing.”

You observe Satoru as he reaches for the pen—he is back to that usual air of nonchalance; it is almost unsettling. He signs the document with a flourish, barely glancing at the terms, and you envy his composure.

When he hands you the pen, meeting your eyes with a confident smile, you hesitate for a second—then, with a determined snatch, you take the pen from his delicate hand.

Holding your breath, you press the pen to paper and sign your name in one fell swoop. Each stroke of the pen feels heavy, final, but also strangely empowering.

No turning back now.

ꨄ︎

The courthouse ceremony was as brief and impersonal as you expected.

Something about Haru witnessing you legally enter into a fake marriage just didn’t feel right—so you opted to leave her with Satoru’s nanny.

Standing in front of the judge, reciting vows, and signing the official documents felt more like a business transaction than a wedding.

Glancing at Satoru, you couldn't help but feel a bit solemn as you observed him, his expression as indifferent as ever.

This wasn't the fairy tale wedding you once dreamed of. There was no crowd, no rings, no romantic gestures—just a legal agreement with a pen on paper, binding you to him for the next year.

But then again, you knew that coming into this—it was never about romance or dreams; it was about survival and securing a future for Haru.

It was over as quickly as it began—just like that, the judge declared you husband and wife, immediately leaving you alone with Satoru right after.

Noticing your serious expression, Satoru leans in slightly as you gather the official documents.

"You look like you're attending a funeral, not a wedding Mrs. Gojo," his voice drips with playful mockery.

Hearing him call you ‘Mrs. Gojo’ sends a shiver down your spine. That was going to take some getting used to.

“And you look like you’re at a board meeting, not your wedding, Mr. Gojo,” you retort, unable to hide the underlying bite in your voice as your fingers shuffle through the pages.

A deep chuckle reverberates through the otherwise solemn atmosphere. Once you tuck the documents under your arm, you begin to make your way towards the exit. Satoru immediately falls into step beside you.

“Touché. But really, lighten up sweetheart. Gonna need to work harder to convince everyone you’re head over heels in love with me,” there’s a playful challenge in his voice.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“Well, forgive me for not swooning over this magical moment. You know, this isn't exactly how I pictured my wedding day," you mutter, trying to mask the internal melancholy whirling within you.

When you reach for the door, Satoru beats you to it, holding it open with a flourish.

"Oh? And how did you picture it?” he raises an eyebrow as his eyes gleam in amusement, “Let me guess, lots of flowers, a big white dress, and some poor guy professing his undying love for you?"

Okay, screw him. He was really not making this any better. You feel the heat rise to your face as a scoff escapes your lips—the only response you will give him.

Brushing past him, your heels click against the polished floors through the marble halls of the courthouse. As you glance to the tall, ornate windows lining the corridor, the sunlight streams through, casting intricate patterns.

“Hmm, think I guessed right,” he chuckles as he saunters after you.

“And what if you did?” you snap, voice echoing in the grand space. “Is it so weird for me to want a normal family for my daughter?”

The teasing glint in his eyes dim as his expression softens slightly. Once you reach the elevator, Satoru presses the button—the two of you wait in an awkward silence.

The moment the elevator door slides open, you both step inside, the quiet hum of the machinery enveloping you.

“No, it’s not weird. It’s just... different from what I’ve ever thought about,” he says while he presses the button to the lobby.

You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the back of the elevator.

“What, Mr. Perfect never thought about settling down?”

Satoru's gaze drifts for a moment as he considers your question. The elevator begins its descent, the soft whirl filling the silence.

“Honestly? No, I never did. My father used to pressure me about it all the time. Wanted me to marry someone who could... 'enhance' our family’s status.” He was contemplative, and the echoes of old frustrations are clear in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden openness.

The rumors about Satoru had always painted him as a carefree bachelor, uninterested in the constraints of marriage.

Some said he was too focused on his career, while others whispered that he enjoyed his freedom too much to settle down. There were even speculations that he had a hidden lover, or perhaps he was waiting for the perfect match to come along, someone who could stand by his side both in business and in life.

“…and you never found anyone who fit the bill?”

He chuckles, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Plenty of candidates. None that I wanted to spend my life with. Plus, all those ‘suitable matches’ were just women trying to get their hands on the Gojo fortune. Most people just see the money and power. They don't see the person behind it.”

The vulnerability in his eyes is fleeting, and you realize that his father’s expectations must have weighed heavily on him. The pressure to find someone was not about love or companionship—it was about maintaining an image, a legacy. In a way, you both have been victims to control your entire lives.

As the depth of his frustrations become more apparent, you feel a pang of sympathy. It’s enough to make you wonder about the real Satoru. The elevator continues its descent, and you find yourself lingering on his words.

“That sounds... difficult. So why did you go through with this then? With me?”

His gaze softens; his expression thoughtful as he watches the numbers descending the floor levels. He tilts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Because you’re different. You didn’t come to me looking for wealth or status. You needed help, and I needed a solution. It’s honest, in a way. No hidden agendas, no false pretenses.”

A nervous flutter dances in your stomach, your fingers fidgeting with the folder of documents in your hands. The softness in his words catch you off guard, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact.

A small, rueful smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“In a world where everyone wants something from me, I find your straightforwardness refreshing.”

Your heart skips as a warm blush creeps up your cheeks.

“I never thought you’d see it that way. I just... I wanted to do what was best for Haru.”

“And that’s what makes you different,” he replies softly. “You’re doing this for her, not for yourself. That’s why I agreed to this. Because I believe you’re sincere.”

The elevator chimes softly as it reaches the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal the bustling courthouse lobby.

The weight of the conversation settles between you, a rare moment of vulnerability that made you see Satoru in a new light—a glimpse into his inner world.

The moment you near the courthouse door, you and Satoru push it open in an attempt to exit, but are immediately greeted by a barrage of flashing cameras and shouted questions. Paparazzi swarm around you, seeming to have materialized out of nowhere—how did they even know where to find you both?

Satoru, ever the master of public appearances, wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. His touch is warm and firm, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart through his suit.

The sensation of his hand resting securely on your hip sends a tingle through your body, a fluttering in your stomach—you realize now that this is the first time he has touched you.

“Smile for the cameras, Mrs. Gojo,” he whispers into your ear, breath tickling your skin.

You blink, heat rising to your face as you’re momentarily caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. But you quickly compose yourself, remembering the role you have to play.

Leaning into him slightly, you offer a shy smile to the cameras. The flashes intensify and the questions grow louder.

“Mr. Gojo why are you in a courthouse?”

“Mr. Gojo, what is the status of Gojo Corporation?”

“Who is this woman Mr. Gojo?”

“What is your statement on your father’s passing?”

As the paparazzi continue to snap photos and shout questions, Satoru leans down and presses a quick, gentle kiss to your temple. His lips were soft, and the warmth of his breath burned your skin. The gesture, though small, sends a shiver down your spine.

It was all for show, you reminded yourself. Just part of the act.

Yet, the unexpected intimacy lingered, making it hard to ignore the way your heart raced at his touch.

Satoru’s kiss had worked perfectly, fueling the media frenzy. The paparazzi went wild at the tender action—camera flashes intensifying and voices growing louder. They call out more questions, desperate to capture every angle of the seemingly affectionate moment. You feel the eyes of the crowd boring into you.

“Let’s get out of here,” Satoru murmurs, voice low and soothing amidst the chaos.

He reaches out, hand warm and firm as he interlocks his fingers with yours, gently guiding you through the throng of reporters towards the waiting car. His other arm subtly shields you from the crowd.

As you finally break free from the mass of flashing cameras and shouting voices, you slide into the car, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as Satoru slides beside you immediately after.

Glancing back at the courthouse, the reality of your new life begins to sink in. Once the car pulls away, a breath escapes you—one you didn’t realize you had been holding in.

“That was... intense.”

Satoru chuckles, arm resting behind your shoulder. He tilts his head slightly, allowing a few tousles of white hair to fall into his eyes. Through the soft strands, his gaze meets yours, a mix of amusement and seriousness dancing in his striking blue eyes.

“Welcome to my world," he murmurs. "Better get used to it, sweetheart. This is just the beginning.”

ꨄ︎

The following day, a moving company arrived at your apartment as promised—they packed up your belongings with swift efficiency, leaving you feeling like a spectator in your own life.

Watching your life be boxed up and loaded into trucks was bittersweet—as your small apartment, with its familiar creaks and cracks, had been your safe haven.

Everything was arranged, down to the smallest detail. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself standing in the grand foyer of Satoru’s mansion once again, this time with all your worldly possessions.

Haru, wide-eyed and excited, clung to your side, her tiny fingers wrapped around your hand.

"Welcome to your new home," Satoru says with a grin.

It felt more like stepping into a palace than a home.

He reaches down and grabs one of your suitcases, lifting it effortlessly,

"Let me show you to our room."

You feel your face heat up instantly.

"Our room?" you stammer. "Why would we need to share a room when no one is here to watch this charade?"

Satoru's grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

"Relax, I'm just teasing you. You have your own room. I just wanted to see your reaction."

You shoot him a glare, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance.

“You're impossible," you mutter, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

He chuckles, leading you up the grand staircase, and Haru follows closely, her eyes darting around in awe at the luxurious decor. The polished marble steps feel cool underneath you, and the ornate banisters gleam under the soft lighting.

"Come on, let me show you around." Satoru says as he leads the way down a long corridor.

The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and framed artwork, each piece more exquisite than the last.

Eventually, Satoru stops in front of a set of double doors, turning to you with a small, satisfied smile.

"Here we are."

He pushes them open to reveal a spacious bedroom. The room beautifully furnished, with a large bed, elegant drapes, and a balcony overlooking the manicured gardens below.

"This is your room," he announces, setting your suitcase down gently.

"Wow," you breathe.

It feels a bit overwhelming the moment you step foot inside. Haru, on the other hand, darts past you, exploring every nook and cranny with a delighted giggle. It was easily twice the size of your old apartment.

"This is beautiful... and a lot."

Satoru leans against the doorframe, arms casually crossing over his chest.

The soft light from the chandelier above casts a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His white hair, tousled just enough to seem effortlessly stylish, frames his face perfectly.

"Only the best for my... business partner," he says, tone light yet carrying a hint of something deeper.

You offer a simple, "Thanks," but your voice is softer than you intended. Your eyes betray you, lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary.

Satoru's eyes hold yours with a softness that catches you off guard—a striking shade of blue that seems almost ethereal. In that moment, you couldn't help but notice the intensity and warmth in his gaze, it’s almost tender, making you feel like anything but just a ‘business partner’.

Was he always this beautiful?

You can’t help but wonder, feeling a warmth spread through you as the silence stretches on. The moment feels strangely intimate, a connection forming that neither of you expected.

Crap. What are you thinking?

Haru’s giggle breaks the spell as she jumps on your bed.

"Oh, and just so you know," he adds with a playful glint in his eye, "my room is right next door. We share the bathroom, so try not to hog all the hot water."

You blink, surprised. "We have to share a bathroom?"

Curiosity getting the better of you, you open the bathroom door and peer inside.

It was equally impressive, with a large tub and walk-in shower, all in pristine condition. The fixtures gleam, and the marble countertop adds a touch of luxury. There was another door leading directly to Satoru’s room, a constant reminder of his proximity.

"Yep. Just think of it as our first test of marital bliss. Can we survive sharing a bathroom?" Satoru's voice was suddenly closer.

You turn to find him standing right behind you, having moved from his previous spot at the doorframe. The idea of sharing such a personal space with him was a bit unnerving. An awkwardly intimate setup for such a detached relationship, but you didn't have much of a choice.

"…I suppose I'll manage.”

Satoru laughs softly.

"That's the spirit. And don't worry, Haru's room is right across from us. She's got the best room in the house actually," he adds, tilting his head to the side as a cue for you to follow him.

Haru trails excitedly behind as you walk through the luxurious hallway, her giggles echo off the walls. Opening the door, you peek inside and are struck by the sheer extravagance of it.

The room was a child’s dream—decorated in soft pastel colors, with a canopy bed draped in delicate lace, plush toys neatly arranged on shelves, and even a small play area complete with a dollhouse and a set of building blocks. The walls were adorned with whimsical murals of fairies and woodland creatures, creating a magical atmosphere that seemed straight out of a storybook.

Haru's delighted squeals bring a smile to your face, easing the last of your worries.

It was clear that Satoru had spared no expense in making her feel welcome. Each detail spoke of thoughtfulness and care, from the cozy reading nook to the vibrant rainbow-colored rug that added a playful touch to the room. How on earth did he pull all this off so quickly?

“Wow, look, Mama!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up with joy, running inside to inspect her new haven.

A sense of relief washes over you as a tender smile forms upon your lips. At least Haru would be happy here. The sight of her so animated and cheerful makes the transition a bit easier to bear. Satoru stands beside you.

“I wanted her to feel at home," he says softly, eyes reflecting a rare sincerity.

“You've done more than that. She's ecstatic," you reply, watching Haru dive into a pile of stuffed animals with a gleeful laugh.

Satoru clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, the gesture uncharacteristically awkward. He glances at the clock on the wall, as if searching for an excuse to end the moment.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," his tone is gentle and almost hesitant. "Let me know if you need anything. Dinner will be ready soon, see you down there?”

His usual confidence is somewhat muted—you wonder, is it you? Haru?

"Yeah,” you nod, “I’m going to put a few of my things away and then we’ll meet you downstairs."

“Right. Take your time. There's no rush."

You can’t help but replay the interaction in your mind as you unpack the essentials from your suitcase. The awkwardness between you and Satoru would pass, you hope. For now, it was enough to know that Haru is happy and safe.

Haru’s laughter echoes from her room, a sound that brings a smile to your face. She seemed to be adjusting much faster than expected, her innocent joy undiminished by the upheaval.

And to you, her laughter solidified it—marrying Satoru, this was the right call.

ꨄ︎

The past few days living with Satoru had been a whirlwind of adjustments—it wasn’t without its challenges. The mansion, with its sprawling rooms and luxurious decor, is more like a museum than a home.

The sheer size makes you feel small and out of place at times, and the constant presence of staff make it difficult to find a moment of privacy.

Satoru, however, had been surprisingly considerate. He’s a constant reminder of the delicate balance you need to maintain—attentive yet reserved, playful yet serious, a paradox that kept you on edge.

Your interactions with Satoru had settled into a routine of polite, if somewhat distant, cohabitation. There were moments of unexpected tenderness, like when he had found you struggling to open a jar in the kitchen and had stepped in to help with a playful grin.

Another time, you had been overwhelmed while trying to assemble a new toy for Haru, and Satoru had quietly taken a seat beside you, helping to figure out the instructions without a word.

Yet despite these moments, there was always an underlying tension, a reminder of the unusual circumstances that had brought you together.

As the days passed, the impending charity gala loomed larger in your mind—the first public event you would attend together as a married couple.

Satoru had taken the time to sit down with you and discuss how you would present yourselves, a task that seemed daunting but necessary.

You agreed on the basics: stay close, exchange subtle touches, and share occasional whispers to create an air of intimacy. The plan was straightforward, but the execution would be another matter entirely.

He emphasized the importance of appearing united, offering tips on how to handle the media and the probing questions that were sure to come. His confidence and ease in handling the media was something you were learning to lean on, though the pressure of maintaining the charade weighed heavily on you.

“What about Haru?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

“We’ll leave her out of the spotlight,” Satoru replied gently. “I don’t want to overwhelm her. She takes no part in this agreement beyond being your daughter. She’ll stay here with the nanny during the event.”

Amidst all this, your phone had been buzzing constantly with missed calls from Naoya. You hadn't answered any of them—maybe you should just call off the court case?

You did just go through a life changing event, marriage, and that often interferes with the legal process anyways. The judge would need to take into consideration your new source of income for the child support payments.

Honestly, you don’t need Naoya’s support anymore.

You’ll take care of that after the gala though—right now you already have too much on your plate, spending hours with Satoru, fabricating shared experiences and finding common ground to make your relationship believable.

The task of memorizing details about his likes and dislikes, his habits, and his quirks was daunting, but you found yourself surprised at the small details you were beginning to remember about him—the way he took his coffee, his favorite late-night snack, the way his eyes crinkled just slightly when he found something genuinely funny, or how he would absentmindedly run a hand through his tousled white hair when deep in thought.

As the days slipped by in a blur of preparations and rehearsed smiles, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this carefully constructed façade was starting to take on a life of its own. Each shared glance and each moment of unexpected kindness blurred the lines between reality and pretense, leaving you wondering just how deep this charade would go.

ꨄ︎

Standing in front of your bathroom mirror, you adjust the luxurious dress Satoru had picked out for you. A deep, elegant blue fabric clings to your curves in all the right places, and the V-shaped open back that rests above your hips adds a touch of allure.

Loose cascading waves frame your face perfectly, and the professional makeup artist gave you a look that is both subtle and glamorous, enhancing your features in a way the felt natural yet striking.

You barely recognize yourself.

The transformation was astonishing, turning you from a frazzled single mother into a vision of sophistication and grace.

Was it too much? You feel out of sorts, like you’re wearing someone else's skin. The elegant image in the mirror is both thrilling and unnerving.

As you try to steady your racing heart, a knock on the bathroom door makes you jump slightly—Satoru’s door.

“Y/n you ready?” his voice calls out.

With a deep breath, you take one last look in the mirror. As you open the door, Satoru’s frame leans casually against the entryway.

The sleek black tuxedo he is adorned in highlights his broad shoulder and lean frame. His white hair is perfectly styled, contrasting sharply with the dark fabric.

He meets you with a stunned silence—eyes widening slightly as he takes you in. The cool blue of his irises seem more vibrant, gleaming with anticipation as they trace over your form.

You had never seen his eyes linger across your figure like this before—the intensity of his gaze makes your stomach flutter. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you fear what will come out of his mouth.

Does he think it’s too much?

“Wow,” he breathes, voice almost reverent. “You look... stunning.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his unexpected compliment, and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze.

"Thank you," you say softly, smoothing down the fabric of your dress.

Satoru steps closer, eyes locked on you. He reaches out and gently lifts your chin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“Seriously, you look amazing. I knew the dress would look good on you, but this... you’re going to be the star of the gala,” a slow smile spreads across his lips. “Ready to knock them dead?”

You nod, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your stomach.

“As ready as I’ll ever be…hopefully I can live up to the part.”

“You will,” offering you his arm, he adds, “Just be yourself, and stay by my side, we’re in this together."

ꨄ︎

The ride to the gala is filled with a comfortable silence.

The city lights blur outside the window as the car smoothly navigates through the streets. You find yourself stealing glances at Satoru, admiring the way his profile looks in the dim light.

Strange.

The usually insufferable man seemed different tonight—steadfast, dependable, almost... comforting? Perhaps it’s the nerves.

His arm rests casually behind you, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, and you’re surprised yourself how it does not bother you—in fact, it’s actually quite soothing.

Once you arrive, the grand ballroom is a stunning sight. Chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow over the elegantly dressed crowd.

The room is filled with the city’s elite—a sea of luxurious gowns and tailored suits mingling and exchanging pleasantries. The sight of you and Satoru together was enough to turn heads, drawing curious and admiring glances.

But the sheer number of people, the pressure of playing your part, and the countless eyes watching your every move—it’s all a bit overwhelming. You really felt out of place here.

Sensing your unease, Satoru leans in close, breath warm against your ear.

“Remember, just follow my lead.”

Guiding you with ease, his hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you voyage through the attendees—the warm gentle touch is electric against your bare skin.

Your eyes skim through the herd of people and land on a waiter balancing a tray of champagne glasses. Perhaps a drink would ease your nerves? You don’t hesitate to grab a glass as you navigate the crowd.

Satoru, ever the socialite, seamlessly traverses the room, introducing you to important figures and engaging in small talk that you struggle to follow.

Discussions ranged from market trends and corporate mergers, to the latest charity galas and art exhibitions. Trying to keep up, you nod and smile at the appropriate moments.

It’s clear that Satoru is in his element—his charm, effortless. You find yourself admiring how easy he makes it all look.

As you cling to him, the pride in his eyes when he looks at you makes you feel like you belong, even if you are just playing a part in this elaborate charade.

The evening flowed smoothly enough, with your glass of champagne acting as a steady companion. The warmth of the alcohol helps you mingle with guests, exchange polite conversations, and stay close to Satoru, all as planned. But each interaction was a delicate dance—your smiles and nods masking the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

Honestly, your mind was elsewhere—there is an undercurrent of anxiety as you anticipate Satoru’s announcement on stage, where he would publicly acknowledge your marriage during his donation speech.

When the moment you had been dreading finally arrives, you settle into a chair near the front, heart pounding in your chest.

Satoru takes the stage with a natural grace, and as the spotlight illuminates his striking figure, his presence commands the attention of everyone in the room.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, his voice resonating with a confident authority. “I want to thank you all for being here tonight. Your generosity and support make events like this possible.”

His words flow smoothly as he speaks eloquently about the cause and significance of the charity, each sentence perfectly crafted to engage and inspire—you marveled at his ability to enthrall people.

Pressing your champagne glass to your lips, you desperately hope the cool liquid can help to steady your nerves a bit more.

Then, the moment came.

“I will be donating ten million dollars to this charity,” Satoru announces, his voice carrying a conviction.

The amount causes a ripple of excitement and murmurs to spread through the crowd—you nearly choked on your champagne in shock.

Ten million?

You couldn’t even fathom having that much money, let alone donating it. The magnitude of Satoru’s status is staggering.

A smile tugs at Satoru’s lips—a genuine warmth mingling with the mischievous glint in his eyes. He pauses, letting the impact of his words settle, then lifts a finger to tap his chin contemplatively, as if he just remembered something.

“Or should I say, we will be donating—me and my lovely wife.”

Satoru gestures in your direction as a spotlight beams upon you. The crowd erupts into an enthusiastic applause, causing your heart to race the moment all eyes instantly turn to you.

There is a rush of heat that rises to your cheeks, mixing with the warmth of the alcohol. The weight of the crowd’s gaze makes your vision a bit blurry.

Beckoning you to join him on stage, Satoru extends his hand and offers a comforting smile. Though, the moment you stand, the room spins slightly—perhaps it’s from the champagne, or perhaps it’s the sheer pressure.

You can’t fuck this up.

With as much grace as you can muster, you make your way to the platform.

Satoru wraps an arm around your waist the moment you are at his side, pulling you close and steadying your trembling figure. He looks down into your eyes with a genuine look of endearment.

“Everyone, please welcome my beautiful wife, y/n,” he says softly in the microphone, his voice filled with a gentle pride.

The applause swells, and you manage a smile, trying to focus on Satoru while ignoring the spotlight’s heat and the intense gazes of attendees.

Leaning in, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “You’re doing great.”

Despite the orchestrated nature of your relationship, in this moment, his genuine reassurance means everything. His presence is a steady anchor in the sea of faces and flashing cameras, the only thing holding you together right now.

When the applause dies down, Satoru continues his speech, the warmth of his hand remaining on your waist as his thumb traces soft circles.

You can barely focus on his words, the dizzying reality of where you’re standing feels both exhilarating and terrifying.

The moment Satoru’s speech concludes, the soft hum of conversation mingling and the delicate notes of the live orchestra begin to fill the air yet again. Satoru leads you off the stage, his hand never leaving your side.

Almost immediately after you descend to the floor, Satoru is approached by a business associate, his demeanor shifting effortlessly into that of a seasoned negotiator as they exchange discussions of market trends, potential collaborations, and strategic ventures.

Your heart is still pounding—public speaking was never your strong suit. Despite not needing to speak, being on that stage stirred something within you.

You recall a particularly disastrous presentation in college where you accidentally knocked over the projector, sending your notes flying across the room. The laughter from the audience still haunts you, and since then, you’ve always dreaded being the center of attention.

With Satoru engrossed in conversation, you seize the opportunity to make your way to the bar—seeking a moment of reprieve. Another drink wouldn’t hurt, right?

The gleaming rows of crystal glasses and various bottles of wine and spirits catch your eye. You scan the selection, your gaze lingering on a particularly rich, deep red wine.

Deciding it’s exactly what you need to steady your nerves, you signal the bartender and opt for a glass of the robust vintage, savoring the thought of its smooth, calming flavor.

One glass turned into two—your nerves finally beginning to settle as the soothing effects of the alcohol take over your senses.

Realizing you’ve been away from Satoru for quite some time, you prepare to rejoin him—but just as you start to rise, a familiar, unwelcome voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Well, well, look who we have here,” Naoya sneers, leaning against the bar beside you, a glass of scotch swirling in his hand. “Didn’t expect to see you here, mingling with the high society.”

A chill runs down your spine and you heart drops. No amount of alcohol could have prepared you for this moment.

“Naoya,” you stiffen, clutching your wine glass tighter. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a swig of his scotch, emptying the glass and placing it down on the counter with a loud clink. Leaning closer into your space, his eyes narrow—a cold, cynical stare boring into you.

“I could ask you the same thing. This doesn’t seem like your usual scene. What’s your angle?”

Your breath quickens and you feel your pulse hammering in your chest. Adverting your gaze, your fingers brush against the rim of your wine glass.

“I’m sure you heard, I’m here with my husband, if you must know. Not that it’s any of your business.”

The sneer he meets you with makes the room suddenly feel smaller, as if his presence is suffocating you.

“Husband, huh?” his eyes rake over you with contempt suspicion, “Quite the leap from where you were a few weeks ago. Is this some kind of game to you?”

Summoning your courage, you straighten your back and meet his gaze head-on.

“Not a game, Naoya. It’s called moving on. You should try it sometime. My life is no longer any of your concern.”

Taking a step closer, he looms over you—his voice lowering to a menacing whisper.

“I don’t buy it. This whole charade… you think I don’t know what you’re trying to pull?”

For a moment, you are frozen in place, the fear and control Naoya exerts paralyzing you. Your mind races, the implications of his words sinking in.

What if he exposes you?

What if this carefully constructed facade comes crashing down?

Before you can respond, you feel an arm slip around your waist, pulling you with practiced ease out of Naoya’s bubble and right beside Satoru.

“There you are, darling. Everything alright?”

His voice is smooth and warm, and his gaze flicks between you and Naoya, narrowing as he surveys the situation. The look on your face unsettles him—something feels off.

Naoya straightens himself, leaning against the bar with a supercilious smirk as he crosses his arms.

“Just catching up with an old friend. No harm in that, right?”

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Satoru’s tone was light but laced with an underlying steel, “I’m y/n’s husband, Satoru Gojo.”

A scoff escapes Naoya as his eyes flash with irritation, but an unnerving smile remains upon his lips.

“Yes, I’ve heard. You certainly move fast, don’t you, y/n?”

Naoya can see right through you—you fell a flash of panic. Turning to Satoru, your eyes meet his with a silent plea for support. His expression softens and he gives you a reassuring nod while tightening his grip upon your waist.

“Well, when you know, you know,” Satoru says with a charming smile, “and we knew.”

Naoya snickers, running his hand through his hair in disbelief.

“Come on y/n. How did someone like you end up with someone like him? Seems... unlikely. You don’t belong here.”

Heat rises to your face and the sudden urge to shrink away overwhelms you—your heart dropping at the sting of Naoya’s words.

Suddenly, Satoru steps closer, creating a protective barrier between you and Naoya—the playful glint in his eyes gone, replaced with a cold, steely determination.

“Watch your mouth, you don’t get to talk to my wife like that.”

“I’m just stating the obvious,” Naoya shrugs, meeting Satoru’s glare with an indifference as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “She’s out of her league here.”

Satoru’s jaw tightens, his voice low and dangerously calm.

“If you think she’s out of her league, then you clearly don’t know her at all. You’re out of line. Y/n belongs here more than anyone. So, unless you have something worthwhile to say, I suggest you move along.”

“Is that so?” Naoya raises an eyebrow. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical. After all, you’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf, Satoru Gojo.”

Panic seizes you as Naoya’s observation hangs in the air. The last thing you need is for him to start spreading rumors or causing trouble. You realize you have to do something, and fast. Your mind races, desperately searching for a way to convince Naoya of your authenticity.

Summoning all the courage you can muster, you step forward, threading your arms around Satoru’s neck as you rest your forehead against his own. Your words are addressed to Naoya, but your eyes remain on Satoru the entire time, drawing strength from his steady gaze and the warmth of his touch.

“Satoru and I... we chose each other for reasons that go beyond what you see. We may have our differences, but we’re stronger together, and we have a connection that you can’t comprehend.”

Satoru’s eyes soften, reflecting a silent understanding and a shared resolve—his breath mingling with yours.

Feeling Naoya’s probing gaze, you know he won’t be easily convinced, and so, acting on impulse, you pull Satoru closer and crash your lips against his.

For a moment, Satoru seemed caught off guard. His eyes widened in surprise before they fluttered closed, his hands moving to rest on your hips. The world around you seemed to fade away as the kiss lingered, heat pooling in your stomach.

It was supposed to be a quick peck, just enough to sell the act. But the moment your lips met his, something shifted.

Perhaps you were emboldened by the alcohol, perhaps it was the need to be convincing, perhaps it was the way Satoru stood up for you—without thinking, you deepen the kiss, parting your lips and slipping your tongue into his mouth, making things more intimate than you originally intended.

You can feel Satoru tense for a moment, his surprise evident. But then, with a soft hum against your mouth he melts into the kiss, a hand moving to cup your face as he returns the intimacy with unexpected fervor—his other hand encircling around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

Your fingers thread through Satoru’s hair and the world around you seems to fade away—the only thing that mattered now was the heat radiating off of Satoru’s body, the warmth of his lips against yours, and the lingering sweet taste of the gala’s chocolate cake mingling with the wine on your tongue.

It was a moment that felt both incredibly real and utterly surreal.

When you finally pull back, you are both breathless. As you catch a flicker of something unreadable in Satoru’s half lidded eyes, for a brief moment, you forget about Naoya completely, about the act, about everything except the electric connection between you both.

Satoru's thumb gently caresses your cheek, his gaze softening.

Pulling yourself back to reality, you peer over to Naoya—his smug expression had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise and irritation.

“As you can see, we’re very happy together,” you say sweetly, rubbing your nose against Satoru’s.

"Didn't think you were the type to move on so quickly," Naoya sneers.

A wave of exhilaration and embarrassment course through you as Naoya retreats back into the crowd. The kiss had done its job, but it had also left you with a lingering sense of uncertainty. Satoru’s touch is still warm on your skin—you can still taste him on your lips.

"You okay?" he asks softly, his concern genuine.

The question pulls you out of your thoughts, but his gaze does the opposite—your face flushes and it feels like your heart is going to pound out of your chest.

"Yeah. I... I just needed to convince him.."

Satoru studies you momentarily—knowing there is more to the story with Naoya. But he also knows now isn’t the time to pry.

He chuckles softly, his hand lingering on your waist.

“Well, I think you succeeded. That was... unexpected. You really went for it there,” he murmurs.

For a moment, it felt like you were playing a role, but the feelings stirring inside you were anything but fake.

"I'm sorry," you swallow hard, face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..."

“I didn’t mind,” he interjects, thumb brushing against your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just so you know, you did great. Better than I expected,” his voice low and husky.

Fuck.

You blink—Naoya is gone, but here Satoru is, still holding you so intimately, so intently.

The way he looks at you, the warmth in his touch, the tone of his voice—it makes you question the lines between reality and pretense.

“Didn’t know you had it in you.” Satoru hums, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. He leans in, his breath dancing on your lips, tantalizingly close. “But next time, let’s save the tongue for when we’re really alone, hm?”

What is he saying?

Your mind races, trying to decipher his words, his intentions. Was he still in character, or was there a hint of genuine desire in his eyes?

The electricity in the air was undeniable, and you find yourself lost in the intensity of his gaze—the crowd around you fading, their murmurs and whispers becoming a distant hum.

Satoru’s eyes held secrets you were desperate to uncover.

As you struggle to formulate your thoughts, Satoru’s hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along you jaw.

"Relax," he murmurs, "We're just putting on a show, remember?"

You nod, though your heart betrays you with its rapid pace.

“Right,” you whisper, forcing a smile. “Just a show.”

But deep down, you can’t shake the feeling that there was more to this act than either of you were willing to admit.

ahh i really enjoyed writing this chapter. okay, i was snickering at satoru's internal turmoil when he met haru for the first time. i couldn't resist with the digimon 🤭 my daughter is currently obsessed with pikachu so that's where that inspiration came from lol. also, this kiss was one of my favs to write 🥰 lemme know if you guys are interested in me making this a longer series. as always, thanks for reading 🫶🏻 → on to the next chapter ꨄ

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[lucid-loves]

First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 1

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.5k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, eventual smut, virgin reader

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.

Chapter Synopsis: Ghost travels to the small country of Stuoca to meet the person assigned to guard for the next month. When you lay your eyes on him, you can’t help but feel scared, yet also curious. He feels the same when encountering such a precious, fragile thing like you.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6

The porcelain teacup felt warm in your hands, holding your favorite blend of tea flavored to your preference. The grandfather clock in the room ticked by, filling the silence. While you normally liked to play some music to fill the space with sound, your parents told you that you must be quiet. That you had to sit pretty and be patient until you were allowed to do so. 

You stared into your cup, slowly losing your appetite for teatime as the pit in your stomach grew bigger. You felt like there was something wrong, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. Normally, your parents were eager to show you off to any guest that was coming to the palace. Right now, it is different. You were locked away in one of the many palace studies. There was your butler with you who watched your worries grow. There were a couple of guards outside the closed doors, stopping anyone from entering unless the king or queen allowed it. 

Looking out the arched window and overlooking the lush palace garden, you wished you could enjoy your teatime outside like you normally did. Feeling the fresh air, hearing the birds chirp in the distance, enjoying the subtle aroma of flowers flowing with the wind. It was really the only time you were allowed to be outside. 

Even though you were a grown woman, your parents have always seen you as their little princess.

While you sat silently in the study, the king and queen of Stuoca was meeting the man that would guard you with his life. It was jarring being in a place like this. Everything from the floor to the ceiling was crafted with exquisite, polished stone. Anything made of wood was a rich cherry. On marble pedestals along the halls held works of art behind glass. Jewelry, crowns, busts. Golden chandeliers with crystals reflecting the light hung from the ceilings that were painted with angels. 

Everything in the palace was worth billions upon billions of dollars. Standing in the middle of it all was Ghost, a man that once was just scraping by in his younger days. He still stood out like a sore thumb among it all. The skull balaclava secured over his head, tattoos revealed on his forearm, the black t-shirt that clung tight to his muscles. It was like death himself walked the bright palace halls. 

“Pardon me, Lieutenant Ghost, but you don’t have to wear that mask here, do you?” The queen, your mother, nervously addressed from her red velvet seat. The mask was making her scared. That was how people normally reacted when they saw him for the first time.

“Yes I do, your majesty.” He curtly responded, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. Ghost was just as uncomfortable as your parents were. When he heard that he was being deployed to guard a princess, he laughed, thinking it was a joke. But now, here he was being served tea and cookies with the king and queen of Stuoca. As much as being on base was a pain in the ass at times, he missed it. 

The king cleared his throat before taking another sip of tea from his teacup. When they reached out to the United States for a bodyguard, they weren’t expecting someone so. . . rough to be sent out. But, if this was the right man for the job, then so be it. As long as his princess was safe. “Thank you for traveling so far away from home in order to help us with our problem. Being a country so small, we weren’t even sure if your country would even bat an eye at us.”

Ghost shifted on the balls of his feet, growing more uncomfortable with the sudden gratitude. He just wanted to start the job already. The sooner he starts, the sooner he can end it. “You said that you’ve received threats. Anything else happened while I was busy traveling here?”

With a snap of the king’s fingers, a maid came over and presented an opened envelope. Ghost quirked a brow under his mask as he took it. Opening it revealed the original letter that was reported to Laswell. The one that he’s already seen with his 141 team. Handwritten, black ink, very articulated. The letter detailed how the royal family would burn down along with their palace. That the princess will be kidnapped and tortured if they didn’t get what they wanted, which was power to control the country. 

Ghost sighed, feeling like he got the short end of the stick on this mission. The entire 141 was working on this case. However, Ghost was the one stuck with babysitting duty while the rest of the guys got to experience all of the action. They were off investigating while he was sitting on a velvet couch in the grandest office he has ever seen. 

“That’s all we have for now to physically show you. The only other concern is the graffiti that has been popping up around the city.” The king explained calmly as a different maid brought over a manilla folder full of pictures. Pictures depicted a graffiti crow on various different buildings. They weren’t murals, but the symbols were prominent enough to be noticed. 

“A crow is a symbol of misfortune and death. A bad omen, wouldn’t you agree?” The queen spoke up, taking a slow sip of her tea as she tried to read the lieutenant’s reaction. It was impossible to do so with his mask. 

“Where is the princess right now?” He inquired. It seemed odd that you didn’t come in with your parents. He figured that they would want you right by their side at all times if they were really concerned about the threats. 

The king and queen stood as if on a cue. The king gestured for Ghost to do the same. “Our daughter is in one of the studies waiting to meet you. For her sake, please refrain from bringing up the letter and graffiti. We don’t want to startle her more than what has already been done.”

Ghost gave a curt nod before following your parents to the study where you stayed. The way they spoke about you, you seemed more like a caged bird rather than their beloved daughter. It unsettled the lieutenant, but perhaps it was just the consequence of formality. They wouldn’t have reached out to the United States for help if they didn’t care after all.

Once they approached the door, the guards saluted and opened it up. Beyond the doors was the most ornate office Ghost has ever seen. Once his eyes settled on you, you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Every hair on your head was in place with the help of maids. There were no wrinkles in your dress and no stains in sight. Your makeup was light and only flattered your features. The gems on your necklace complimented your bright eyes. Ghost was almost at a loss for words. When you stood up and curtsied to greet them, he could feel his heart beat against his ribs.

“Good evening.” You simply greeted, your tone polite as ever as a princess should be. 

“Sweetheart, this is going to be your personal bodyguard from now on. He’s going to keep you safe, no matter where you go. Isn’t that wonderful?” Your mother gave a sickly sweet smile, her efforts to meet the status quo seeming a little more forced as she interacted with you.

You definitely knew that something was wrong now. You may have been a confined princess, but you weren’t stupid. However, you decided to refrain from asking what the trouble was. It wasn’t appropriate. Not with your parents watching you.

For now, you focused on the news that you were now going to have a bodyguard. Your eyes shifted towards the large man. Muscles clearly defined under his shirt, posture straight and strong, mask hiding his identity. Compared to him, you were much smaller and much weaker. It intimidated you a bit. It made you hesitant to accept him. However, there were expectations to meet, regardless of how you truly felt.

“Princess Y/n. It is a pleasure to meet you.” You softly spoke as you gave another sweet curtsy towards him. 

He quirked a brow. You were taking this awfully well. A part of him expected some more push-back. He honestly expected you to be a spoiled brat. Yet, here you were, taking everything in stride for now. You knew how to compose yourself better than he expected. “Lieutenant Ghost. I’ll be keeping you safe. For me to do that, there’s going to be some changes.”

You looked to your parents, looking for the explanation for this change. There was not even a bat of the eye as they faked their smiles. “You will still complete your studies as a princess should. Attend the parties as needed to keep up appearances as well.”

Ghost shook his head, authority taking over his baritone voice. “Negative. The princess will not be attending any more parties. Doing so could risk her safety.”

Something was definitely wrong. Your eyes widened at the news. A part of you, though, was celebrating. No more parties? Would your parents really accept this? The sudden shock on their faces morphed into strained smiles, telling you that they weren’t going to accept this so easily. The king cleared his throat. “Lieutenant, it is very important for the princess to still make appearances. It is essential for her.”

Ghost looked at you all of a sudden, wondering how you felt about this change compared to your parents’ obvious protest. You tried to remain unreadable, not wanting to set either party off with your personal opinion. If you had the choice, though, you would sacrifice the parties. They were more for your parents than they were for you anyway.

Ghost sighed in slight frustration. Normally, he was excellent at reading people. He did it all the time with new recruits, enemies, and his team. Their poker faces were nothing compared to yours. “One party if absolutely necessary. No longer than an hour. Just to keep up appearances.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back your disappointment. Well, at least you weren’t expected to be present during the entirety of your parents’ showing off. “Understood, Lieutenant Ghost.”

At least your parents seemed happier with the compromise. Your mother grinned brightly. “Wonderful! Give him the princess’s schedule!”

Your butler hurried over and gave Ghost your schedule. He nearly stumbled back with how packed it was. Piano lessons, dance lessons, tea times, dress fittings, and independent study went on and on for pages and pages. Did you have any time to yourself besides sleep?

“The show must go on! If you have any questions or procedures to discuss, don’t hesitate to reach out to us. We hope that you two get along well.” The queen concluded, eager to leave the room so that she could go on with her own daily life. The king followed close behind as they left the room, leaving you and your bodyguard to get to know each other.

You didn’t mind being civil, but you doubted that he would try to get to know you. He simply didn’t seem like the type to stray away from his responsibilities for anything. For now, you silently went back to your seat to finish up tea time. Ghost stood awkwardly for a moment before finding his own place to settle. Leaning against the stone wall, he examined you further.

The way you held your teacup was gentle. Your dress draped against your legs like a smooth waterfall. The way you looked out the window was melancholic. After a few minutes, you spoke up, curiosity getting the better of you. “Why are you my new bodyguard, Lieutenant Ghost?”

Ghost didn’t expect your question. He hardly even knew what you meant when you asked it. Still, he kept his cool as he dug further. It wasn’t like there was any malice in your tone. In fact, your tone was nothing but innocent. “What do you mean? Are you asking me why I took the job?”

You shook your head, staring into your teacup once again as you got a little shy. Lieutenant Ghost wouldn’t report your conversations to your parents, would he? But, you had to know. “Is my life in serious danger?”

Behind the mask, Ghost’s mouth was partially opened with shock. His body grew tense as he realized what was really going on. “They haven’t told you, have they?”

“My parents can be. . . protective. Their priority to maintain normalcy can cause them to make certain judgments in regards to my life.” You subtly worded, fearing that the guards outside were listening to what you were saying. Hopefully, Ghost would understand what you meant.

Thankfully, he did. Now more than before, you really did seem like a caged bird. You deserve the truth. “Your parents received a threatening letter from a terrorist organization. They seem to be after your life in order to manipulate your parents. I serve under Task Force 141 that specializes in missions like this. The rest of my team is investigating the organization while I am to protect you personally.”

Your grip around your teacup tightened slightly as you learned the truth. It seemed that your intuition was correct. This was a serious problem. You swallowed your new fears down hard before proceeding as normal. “Thank you for your honesty, Lieutenant.”

Ghost sympathized with you as he finally saw a shred of how you really felt about this entire situation. His perception of who he was protecting was completely wrong. You were no brat or clueless royalty with too much time and money on your precious princess hands. You were sharp. You were polite. You were obedient. It made him want to know the real you.

He knew that he shouldn’t get closer than what was necessary. Yet, the anxious look in your beautiful eyes as you stared out the window made him want to provide you with some comfort. Some way to break the ice while also doing his job. He opted for a simple conversation about your daily schedule. “What’s independent study for you?”

“It’s my time to study what I wish within reason. Any subject that I may find interesting as long as it is appropriate for a princess.” You delicately explained, putting everything as nice as possible.

All Ghost heard was that you were restricted from real knowledge. However, it wasn’t his place to make a comment on it. It didn’t matter if he didn’t find it fair. You were a princess and you obviously took your responsibilities, fair or not, seriously. He gave a simple hum in acknowledgment for the time being on that matter. “What are you studying?”

You looked at Ghost curiously, wondering how much of this was just workplace conversation and how much of this was genuine attempts at knowing you. The way Ghost looked at you with such resolute, cold eyes made you shiver. Something told you that this was his usual look. “I’m studying many things at the moment that would be proper for me to know.”

It seemed like subtle and vague answers were the only things he was going to get out of you, but he already picked up on the fact that you didn’t do this to be cold towards him. The tone you carried was careful. Gentle. You didn’t want to say anything that could get you in trouble. Simon knew what that was like.

The conversation was dropped for the time being. It seemed like your physical being wasn’t the only thing he had to protect. Your social reputation was at stake as well. Respecting that, he focused back on guarding you. Not without noticing every little thing about you though.

You stole glances at him every so often as well as you sipped your tea. The more you looked at him, the more he intrigued you. You’ve never had a guard that had his build. You’ve never even seen someone with tattoos in person before. He stood out against the pristine white around the palace. A shadow in the light. You were curious about what he looked like under the mask.

~

The rest of the night proceeded as normal save for your new shadow. You were ushered by your butler to your routine lessons, Ghost always close behind. He stayed silent throughout it all, but observant. You did feel like he was watching your every move. While you were used to being heavily monitored, having Ghost be the one observing you made you more nervous than normal. Music lessons, dance lessons, and studying didn’t go as smoothly as you made more mistakes under the pressure. For some reason, you wanted to impress him like you were one of his newest soldiers. 

Ghost thought nothing of it as you did what you had to do. In reality, he found your abilities to be quite impressive, mistakes or not. He did chalk it up to him being an intimidating presence. Despite it, he could tell that you were skilled. 

When bedtime rolled around, he followed into your room. A grand room with a king, white canopy bed, cherry-wood antique furniture, and large, arched windows leading to a balcony. The windows were the second problem that Ghost needed to address if he wanted to keep you safe. “You can’t sleep in here. It would be too easy to-”

Meeting your eyes made him pause. You waited patiently for him to finish as he was going to say, prepared to take the steps necessary to ensure that the next change would be as smooth as possible. Looking at you, though, Ghost saw a pretty woman that he needed to be more gentle towards. Less explicit in language. You were already afraid for your life. He didn’t want to make that anxiety worse for you.

“Is there another room in the palace that has less open windows?” He asked cautiously, minding his words this time. 

You appreciated his careful consideration, feeling more and more safe with him as he made decisions to protect you. “I believe there is. I can sleep there tonight.”

He followed you to another room in the palace that was away from any windows. He nearly sighed in relief as the new bedroom was windowless, smaller, and much more comfortable to be in. The bed was still massive and the antique furniture was polished, but the warmer palette of the decor made the room feel less like a museum display. 

You felt better too as you looked around the cozy room. The windows in your usual bedroom just reminded you of what you couldn’t have. Though, your anxiety grew as you realized that Ghost was still within the room. Your cheeks grew a subtle pink as you chose your words with precision. “I would like to get ready for bed. Is it necessary for you to be here while I do?”

“Well. . .” Ghost thought carefully, trying to make the best decision here. After a few seconds, he determined that you needed your privacy. He was already invading it enough by being your personal bodyguard. With an accepting, silent nod, he stepped out of the room while you changed into pajamas. A few maid staff passed by, gawking at the lieutenant. A glare was enough to have them scurry on their way.

While you changed, you thought about Ghost. About his real personality, his job, his friends. What kind of work does he normally do? Has he ever killed someone? It certainly seemed like he’s gotten into his fair share of fights from the scars you have seen on his arms. Was he dreading this job? At times, you thought that you could see him get antsy while waiting for you. You probably wouldn’t like waiting on a princess either if you were in his shoes. 

Once you were changed into your silky pajamas, you knocked on the door. “Lieutenant? I’m all dressed. You could come in now.”

Swiftly, he came in. For a second, he admired the way you looked in your pajamas. You looked so much more comfortable. The way you were letting down your hair in front of the vanity had him gulp too. “I won’t be watching you sleep all night. Just until you fall asleep, and then I’ll wait outside the door.”

“What about your sleep?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. The way his arms were crossed over his broad chest made you shrink within yourself a bit. 

“I’m used to not sleeping. I don’t usually sleep well either. Don’t worry about me, princess.” He responded bluntly, putting some more personal distance between the two of you. He would be lying if your concern over his own time didn’t make him melt a little though. 

“I see. My apologies, but I am unsure that I will be able to fall asleep quickly tonight. You might be waiting for a while.” You honestly admitted, feeling the anxious pit in your stomach begin to swallow you like a blackhole. You already felt enough like a burden to the maids and butlers with how strictly your parents had them wait on you. 

Ghost shook his head, noticing how lightly you scrunch your brows in concern. How you nervously bit a tiny part of your bottom lip. Subtle behaviors that no one would notice if they weren’t truly paying attention. You were so different from what he was expecting when he was first told that he would be guarding a princess. “It’s fine. This is my job.”

You turned away from your reflection in the mirror to look at Ghost. Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed how blue his eyes were. Such a deep, oceanic blue that held so many secrets. He stared right back at you, noticing how your worries couldn’t be quelled with just two simple sentences. Finally, he was able to read you.

“If it will help, you can talk to me until you fall asleep. Anything you want. I promise that I won’t tell the king and queen.” He offered, taking a seat on the Victorian-styled couch that was at the foot of the bed. 

His offer came as a complete surprise to you. You didn’t expect him to be so kind. You have learned long ago that there was a difference between being civil and genuinely kind. Ghost was being nice, which felt like a rarity given his outward personality. Quickly, you finished getting ready for bed. Once you were cozy underneath the cotton covers, Ghost turned off the main light. The small lamp on your nightstand stayed on, allowing a comfortable dim to illuminate the otherwise dark room.

An awkward silence fell between the two of you as you tried to think about what to talk about. There was still a fear in you that he would tell your parents, but Ghost didn’t seem like the type to break his promises. Besides that, you never really talked about yourself before. No one has ever been interested in what you liked and disliked. Not that you had a lot of experiences with how your parents kept you in the palace and filtered what you could learn. However, that wasn’t to say that you were curious enough to find a way to learn anyways. At the very least, you had plenty of questions about the outside. 

“For my independent study, I am focusing on classicism art. At least. . . that is what my parents think. I. . . I have been studying other things in secret. My handmaiden sneaks new books into the library for me sometimes if she can.” You confessed, feeling a weight of your chest as you admitted your truth. You didn’t like lying and sneaking around in secret. While you loved new knowledge, you still carried that weight with you.

Ghost listened carefully to your confession. His back was turned towards you, a comfortable thing for you since you weren’t keen on the idea of someone watching you fall asleep. It was enough for him to just sit at the foot of your bed. 

“What new books have you read?” He inquired, wondering what sorts of books a princess could possibly want to read in secret. 

You took a deep breath, feeling your cheeks flush as you admitted more of your secrets. Without interruption, he let you speak. He listened to your voice that lowered into a pleasant whisper when you told him about all the books you were reading and wanted to read. A couple of times, he couldn’t help but crack a smirk at some of your opinions that were refreshingly assertive. 

It didn’t take long for him to hear you start dozing. It started with quieter words morphing into sweet slurs. As soon as he heard your steady, deep breaths, he silently got up and left the room. Standing guard in front of the door, he contacted his team by phone to give an update. 

“Lieutenant, how is she?” Captain Price cut to the chase, his voice low as he investigated matters on his side.

“She’s. . .” Ghost began before trailing off. He had to think about the right words to use. 

“She's a spoiled rotten princess?” Another voice came through. The chuckle was no doubt Soap.

“Honestly, no. She’s a princess, but she’s anything but rotten.” He finally admitted, keeping his voice quiet since the halls seemed to echo. 

There was another laugh before the captain cleared his throat, regaining authority. “I’m glad that she is much more pleasant to deal with than what was expected. Just be careful not to get too personal. I know you will be around each other a lot, but the mission is our priority.”

“Of course, Captain.” Ghost promised, wondering if this particular promise would be easy to keep or not. 

[cosmicdream222]

What is “the state of wish fulfilled” or “feeling the wish fulfilled”?

(Explained in my own words cuz states tumblr is a shitshow)

When I was in HS, I was obsessed with Japan and wanted to visit, and eventually move there.

My dream life = living in Japan, doing the things I wanted to do

My life at the time = living in America, not being able to do the things I wanted to do

Was I sitting around feeling sorry for myself and whining “boo hoo poor me, I wish I was in Japan. Why did I have to be born here? It’s not fair I’m missing out on so much.” HELL NO!! That = the state of lack

Instead, I was excited. I didn’t see going to Japan as such a big deal, it’s not like I wanted to go to outer space! All I had to do was save up some money and buy a plane ticket. It was totally realistic in my mind, why couldn’t I do it?

Sure I wasn’t there now, but I KNEW I could go there eventually. So I spent my time studying & practicing Japanese, enjoying my hobbies from afar, researching & planning my future visits. That = the state of wish fulfilled.

(And yes, I did end up visiting many times and eventually lived there for 5 years.)

Here’s another scenario:

Imagine right now that you won the lottery for an extremely large amount of money - let’s say 1 billion dollars. You have the winning ticket in your hand and you’re at the lotto office right now. They tell you it’s gonna be a few weeks of processing and paperwork before you actually receive the money, but it is yours. It is done.

It doesn’t matter if you’re currently broke, in debt, hate your job, hate your living situation or have any other unfortunate circumstances. In a few weeks, you will have more money than you will ever be able to spend. You will never have to work again. You will never have to worry about money again.

You might not currently know what it “feels like” to be a billionaire, but you know that your current circumstances don’t matter anymore because everything is gonna change soon.

Now, if you are reading this, you have learned about loa/void/shifting - and that is even better than any lottery you could ever win. You found out the truth, my dudes! Reality is an illusion and you can have anything you want. ANYTHING anything, not just materialistic earth things!

Yes we have been programmed with opposite beliefs our whole lives. It might be hard to wrap your head around at first. It might be hard to let go of all the victim-based thinking that society encourages. It might take a week or a month or longer to manifest your desires - but does it matter? Time is an illusion, and you WILL succeed eventually. You didn’t find out about the truth only to fail.

Sitting around on tumblr scrolling for more methods, asking every blogger the same questions, complaining that you don’t have your desires yet = the state of lack

Knowing that you WILL have your desires NO MATTER WHAT and not letting your current circumstances affect you = the state of wish fulfilled.

Have patience and persist! I have faith in you, so have a little faith in yourselves! ILY all and want you to live your best life ❤️

[kylekirkwoods]

OSCAR & ARTHUR || Truth or Dare with Prema ↳ if Oscar had three wishes from a genie, he would wish for more wishes, 10 billion dollars, and...

prema video moments that i think about a lot (1/?)

[whokilledjared]

the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself. (& takes on social media)

Hi.

I'm lonely.

The moment I got "two weeks off school" in sophomore year, life went to 4x speed & I can't turn it off no matter how hard I try.

Maybe COVID-19 adolescence did numbers on me. Somewhere between the iPhone 5c and ChatGPT, 14-hour screen times have live-streamed to me a steady, homogenous death of culture.

Nothing is cool anymore. Nothing is sacred. Every movement is a trend, and every cult classic a sequel.

The value we place on things being beautiful, on being "cool," and our gatekept appreciation of how hard these things were to find: it's been co-opted, or perhaps stolen. It's been stolen by the new merchant class. "Disruptors" and "innovators" turning our lives into a burgeoning black mirror prequel. Soon, we'll graduate too, and we'll wring every morsel of value in each others' lives dry for cash.

Plain and simple, I think we're being manipulated.

Your dates are an algorithm. Your music is a social signal. And Zuck knows when you sleep.*

God. What the fuck are we doing???

“Individuation is becoming the thing which is not the ego, and that is very strange.” — Carl Jung

Recently, I deleted Instagram. My first impulse was to post a story or something, announcing my departure. But then, I thought that would be lame.

I got rid of my account, too. Kinda. Over 1 year, over 800 followers removed, and what remains of me is a little grey icon, and "JM_0000000010" where my name and face used to be.

yay.

There were many people I wish I could have been friends with, but I wonder, too, why I find myself so drawn to the validation of others. Does social media affect me worse, or do we all just choose to ignore it, languishing in private?

At any rate, this last year has almost felt like re-learning how to be a human being.

Personally, I think one of the biggest markers for maturity is when you become willing to disappoint the people you know in favor of what feels right to you, when you start to unravel the stories you’ve told yourself (or been told) about who you are and what you should be. In short, the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself.

And sometimes, I think about every college student that has ever lived. My grandmother, my dad, and so on. Just consider for a moment all kids who graduated before 2010:

What was it like for the ones in 1940? To walk around, before a campus had computers? In 2006: To meet someone pretty, but forget their number? In 1999: To cram into dorms, and watch Seinfeld live on-air?

Would I, like my dad in 1988, have braved cold night, brisk wind, & landline phone-call just to knock and see if my friends were too busy to hang?

What stories could I tell if there was even the slightest chance of getting lost on the way home from a party?

Humans are social creatures. We crave our friends like water. To me, the clearest difference between Dasani and Instagram is that one of them comes in a bottle.

Yet despite these distractions and comforts we have in 2024, somehow, we still have engineering students. People who carve out time in their day to sit down, look at paper, and solve differential equations. But then, that's not so hard, is it? It just takes time. Precious, fucking, time.

At Meta, leagues and leagues of these engineers power behavioral scientists, who are competing for the highest salary. Their benchmarks? Your FOMO. Guilt. Anxiety. Obsession. The worse you feel, the more you engage with their content. The more you engage with their content, well, you're starting to get the point.

Try something for me: Open up Instagram, but don't tap anything. What happens? How many little animations? How many tiny nudges prompting you to get lost? Our home-pages are billion-dollar diving boards, hoisting us over engineered catacombs of subconscious quicksand.

My homepage is my FOMO, my envy, and my crushes. The pain and struggle of trying to be someone who I am not. My little existential crises, bundled-up, packaged, and shipped with a like button.

To abandon your social networks entirely, however, requires a safety net of close friends. After all, your friends are online, and you'd be miserable without them.

This is the problem with our monkey brains. Millennia of sociological natural-selection have made us quite great at feeling terrible. We're damn good at making tribal status games to play with, too.

Seeking refuge in quirked up septum piercings and boygenius listeners, my time in counter-cultural, alternative "scenes" between St. Louis and Tampa has shown me that even the weirdest of folks and the most removed can accidentally find themselves reduced to nothing more than high-school popularity contests. Even if I love them. Even if they're amazing people. We're human.

We can't "quit social media" as much as we can't "quit bottled water" Sure, we can, but it's inconvenient. And even without a bottle, we're still drinking water.

So I lost touch with my friends. I got no new updates on their lives. I forced myself into the inconvenience of not having a phone to reach for in fleeting moments of boredom. Suddenly, I was out of the loop. Suddenly, I was bored. And suddenly, nobody missed me. My only friends were the ones I had the time to text. Everyone else ... does not exist.

Weekends have become more valuable than ever. Without the empty social calories of seeing my friends' pictures, I find myself planning hangouts as often as my schedule allows. I have more lunches, more study sessions, and more is done in the company of less.

And I have the time to breathe.

And in this calm, I think I found my answer: it's my misplaced ambition. These fears of anxiety and people I thought I would miss, they seem represent something I want to see more of within myself. Something I want to develop, lean into more deeply, as an individual. And I think that's quite normal; to look out into the world and feel attracted to things we want to see more of. This is, I think, how everyone develops their own definition of beauty — and of coolness. It's largely the intersection of what we find most interesting, and what we want to see more of in the world. Because beauty and coolness, by definition, are rare and hard to find. If they were everywhere, nothing be beautiful, nor would anything be cool.

When we all turn into wrinkles and cataracts, bad backs and heart attacks, for a brief, glorious moment, our lives are going to flash before our eyes. In this moment, you'll see your story. The ultimate progression of you.

How much of that will be skibidi toilet and reaction clips? How much of that will be arguing on the internet? Can you tell me, just how much of your life will you have skipped over to pacify your intentionally-lowered attention span?

That girl whose number you couldn't find Those passing questions over coffee that you couldn't search on Google The boredom of a subway ride

Those are not inconveniences, they're what the older generations refer to as "life."

* (oh, but if you can't sleep, consider this aside: Google knows the angle you walk at, how fast you're walking, and they've got crowdsourced pictures of everywhere around you at all times of the day. fun bedtime thoughts <3)

[cyber-corp]

I finished Metal Gear Solid yesterday, and I can absolutely tell what the fuss is about with these games.

Like most kids from the late 00’s/early 10’s, I learnt about the Metal Gear series and Solid Snake through Smash Bros, and he always had this mystique quality around him. Who even is this rugged man? Why is he fighting with Luigi? What does he do?

It turns out Snake knew just about himself as much as I did when I first saw him.

Metal Gear Solid is a game about a man literally made for war struggling with his own identity, to the point where he doesn’t even have a real name, only his codename, Solid Snake. He was only brought into this world to genetically replicate the greatest solider before him, and now he has to make a decision: face his future or drown in his past. On Shadow Moses Island, he is tasked with tracking down a weapon known as Metal Gear REX, which is capable of launching nuclear weapons like someone firing a pistol. It’s in the hands of a group of terrorists, which is demanding a ransom of 1 billion dollars and the body of legendary soldier Big Boss, which just so happens to be where Snake comes in.

You see, Snake (Solid) isn’t like the other guys. He was developed as a government project to make the bestest solider the world has ever known, the Les Enfante Terribles project. He and his brother Snake (Liquid) were the aftermath of the project, and Snake (Liquid) also happens to be the puppermaster behind Shadow Moses Island.

Eventually, Solid Snake is helped out a man who worked on Metal Gear REX, who is such a wet soggy cat that it’s impossible not to enjoy his screen presence. His name is Otacon, which means Otaku Convention, which is so ridiculous that it kind of works.

The gameplay is definitely unlike anything I’ve experienced before. It pushes the boundaries between the game world and the player so far you might as well be literally him fr. There’s a scene where Snake gets a medicinal shot and you have to put the controller on your arm to feel it! It’s insanely cool details like this that I wish games today could incorporate.

Anyway, the game is very good, worthy of its praise, and apparently it only gets better from here.

I guess you could say….The Best Is Yet To Come

B)

[jennarations]

Would love your landoscar fic recs 💌

your wish is my absolute command 🫡🫡

i’ve gone back to college and started student teaching and gotten covid and adopted a kitten all in the last two weeks so i haven’t gotten to read as much but here is what i’ve got! the key is the same as the lestappen fic rec:

> (Title) +/= (Multichaptered/One-Shot)

(Summary)

!!! (Link)

• (Tags - please note these are just the tags I saw relevant to myself, double check the fics themselves for any other tags you might deem relevant!) *(Word count)

Here we go! I’m also tagging some of the bestest and loveliest authors at the bottom of the post, go send them some love!! (Putting it under a Read More for all of our collective sanity)

My one (1) work (shameless self plug heheheh):

> Thunderstruck =

Lando has a childhood fear of thunderstorms and in a record-breaking year for rainfall, Oscar Piastri becomes his new teammate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50579323?view_adult=true

• Falling in love, Slight pining, Fluff, Humor *8.1k

—

> If You’re Barbie, And I’m Barbie, Then Who’s Driving the Bus? =

Anyways, the driver room is largely quiet at the moment. But not entirely, much to Lando’s enjoyment.

Buzzing from Oscar’s headphones, loud enough for Lando to hear the words, is a song from Barbie.

Charli XCX, no less.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48940792#main

• Fluff, Comedy *800 words

> Mortifying! Anyways, =

Mortifying interaction, but he’d survive. Besides, it’s not like the cashier was that cut–

“Cute enough to make you stupid, huh Norris?” He could hear his smile before he saw his face, a proper Cheshire grin.

“Fuck off mate,” Lando groaned, already trying to scrub the cashier from his brain. Except for the Australian accent, he decided; that bit could stay. Maybe his eyes, too, as tired as they had seemed. And his hair, which looked so soft in that kind of ridiculous side part.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49328047/chapters/124474876?

• College AU, Clumsy Lando, Meet-cute *2.3k

> The New Normal =

He wears a lot of shorts.

Lando had thought that Daniel wore shorts a lot, and then along came Oscar. It must be something about Australians.

Carlos never wore shorts.

Oscar’s pale, unblemished, muscular (and hairy) thighs spill out of the team issued black shorts whenever they sit to film content, or sit in meetings, or whenever Oscar sits in Lando’s general vicinity while wearing them.

They’re not a distraction.

OR Lando’s very healthy obsession with his new teammate’s thighs.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49335997/chapters/124496539?

• Pining, Slight smut *8k

> Invocations One Fall Away From the Concrete = ♥️

“Okay,” Lando says. “What’s your power?”

“Telekinesis,” Oscar replies a little too easily, like he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. In fact, he’s already looking back down at his form. Lando doesn’t miss the way he seems completely stumped by the ‘Birth date’ square though.

Telekinetics are far and few between. You’re probably more likely to be struck by lightning twice than to meet a telekinetic. They’re so highly sought after in the hero industry that any telekinetic baby would automatically have a net worth of at least three hundred billion US dollars the second it was born. Moreover Oscar's an Oxy. It’s like, the jackpot of jackpots. This guy’s simply unreal on paper.

Lando scrunches up his face, rolls his eyes and says, “alright.” He shrugs. “Nothing to write home about, then.”

--------------------

AKA the low-key superpowers au where they have to activate their powers doing a really specific thing. Oscar's activation is a mystery to Lando, but it involves a lot of good stuff, pinky promise. (Lando Wink™)

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49508506/chapters/124953475?

• Non-Driver AU, Superpowers AU, Roommates, Slight Angst, Fluff, Humor *10.3k

> Only Found = ♥️

“Hey, well. No strings attached, right?” Oscar says, strategically.

Lando smiles and says, “hell yeah. And now that that’s established, what’s your stance on aliens? Also, do you still want your cake?”

--

cinderella soulmates au where whatever you lose, your soulmate finds. except: oscar has a soulmate and lando is a No-Match, a person who doesn't have a soulmate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49218676#main

• Non-Driver AU, Soulmates AU, Lawyer!Oscar, Streamer!Lando, Angst, Fluff *6.8k

> Carried Away =

"Oscar," Lando said. "Don't hate me, alright, but I've—”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48871015#main

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Relationship, Angst, Fluff, Humor *22.1k

> Little Bit of Love =

“I’m freezing,” Lando says. Whines, really. “Don’t be mean, Oscar, I feel like shit.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49143811

• Sick fic, Fluff, Realization of Feelings *4.7k

> Signed Sealed =

Delivered

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48959461#main

• Text fic, NSFW pics *4.3k

> Smokeshow =

Because Oscar won the American football challenge, Lando had to wear the cheerleader uniform.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48546973#main

• Smut, Cheerleader uniform Lando, Brat!Lando *3.5k

> I’ll Kiss You First =

“Uh,” Oscar says, when they’re in the car on their way to the airport. “I think you’re—um. Going into heat, mate.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47264011#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Oscar, Omega!Lando, Smut *3.1k

> Sunflower Seeds =

Not worth dwelling on, really. Oscar doesn’t have to understand him to be on his team. If he were a pitcher, it would be different; Oscar has to get his pitchers in order to do his job as a catcher well. Lando isn’t a pitcher, though. So it’s fine.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596088/chapters/125175172?

• Non-Driver AU, Baseball AU, Realization of Feelings, Fluff *8.6k

> Chronically Bitchless But Still Wifed Up = ♥️

Lando wasn’t above throwing his weight around in order to get what he wanted, at least in some circumstances. And he wanted to meet Oscar Piastri.

In general, he wanted to go to a MotoGP weekend and probably could have either bought tickets and waited around there like a normal person or asked one of his actual sort-of friends in the paddock to hang out in their garage, but the more specific desire was to meet Oscar Piastri.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49301212#main

• MotoGP!Oscar, Driver!Lando, Fluff, Humor *8.3k

> Negative Splits =

So officially, Oscar Piastri, pretty good steepler and pretty bad pacer, was now a professional runner.

They wanted him to steeple, mostly, though he’d be doing cross country in the fall, and Lando had pinky promised him, mid-distance guy to mid-distance guy, that if he wanted to get into the 3k flat indoor then he would get him in.

Oscar didn’t really want to ask how he planned on doing that. Felt safer not to ask.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48161206#main

• Non-Driver AU, Professional Runner AU, Injuries, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort *10.1k

> Thinkin Bout Your Touch =

Lando’s brain gets so occupied by the thought it shouldn’t come as a surprise really, when a few rounds later Oscar says, “Dare.” Lando blurts out, “Let me suck your dick.”

There’s a long, awkward silence in which they just stare at each other, Oscar’s expression completely unreadable. “Uh,” he eventually says. “I think a dare is something I’m supposed to do.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48704749?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.3k

> I’ve Tasted Blood (And I Want More) =

Lando grabs a pillow and hits him with it, while Oscar laughs loudly. His fangs are on full display, white and sharp and pretty. “You know what I mean, you dickhead!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Oscar says, eyes twinkling. “You want me to use you as a human Capri Sun. You know, like a weirdo.”

“God, you’re making this so much worse than it is,” Lando says, burying his face in his hands. It’s. Well, it’s embarrassing, but Oscar also hasn’t outright said no, so. You know what they say. In for a penny, in for a pound. “So, will you?” And then, just in case, he adds. “Suck my blood?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48136999#main

• Vampire!Oscar, PWP *5.6k

> Legerdemain =

“You’re so modest it’s disgusting,” Lando says. “Michelle’s told me all about it. You winning against some master back in Australia. Anyways, she wants to hop on the bandwagon, get us to play chess, take photos after the weekend. She thinks you could teach me. It would show that you’re pedantic and that I’m pushing past my comfort zone...”

Oscar scoffs. “If Michelle’s only taking photos, why do I need to teach you it? Couldn’t we just pose with a chess set, like the Williams drivers?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49690744/chapters/125422075?

• Chess, Humor, Sexual Tension *5.8k

> What You Do To Me =

“Oh,” Oscar says, because what else are you supposed to say when your teammate says ‘I wish I still had a girlfriend so I could fuck some of that frustration out of me’. “I mean. I uh. I could give you a blowjob? I’d suggest a fuck but I don’t have any lube on me right now and I’m guessing you don’t either.”

Huh, would you look at that. Looks like the award for ‘most insane statement of the night’ doesn’t go to Lando after all.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47993518?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.5k

> Purring in My Lap (cause he loves me) =

The cat thing ends up getting sort of explained in Bahrain, when Lando walks into his driver room and finds a small orange cat sitting on his couch.

Oscar’s cat, presumably.

And he kind of looks like Oscar, too. Slender, lean, and with a slightly grumpy, unimpressed expression on his face. It makes Lando laugh a little. Like owner, like pet, clearly. “Should I just call you Oscat, then,” Lando jokes, giving the cat a little head scratch.

The cat, Oscat, stops rubbing at Lando’s hand and just stares at him instead. Lando would almost say he was looking at him disapprovingly, but it is a cat, so he’s probably just imagining things.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47878867#main

• Cat!Oscar, Fluff, Slight Angst *5k

> In Limbo =

“So what, you like me?”

Tick this box for yes, and this box for no. Fold it tight. Slide the paper under the desk. Don’t let anyone see.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49619383#main

• PWP, Dubious Consent *2.3k

> Eyes on Me =

He just doesn’t understand why Oscar stares so much.

It first comes to his attention at the pre-season media shoots. They have to be photographed in the new gear, and the new suits, and all the while a video camera is rolling to capture content for some behind the scenes pre-season footage. Lando likes to look back at the content they film, just to see how awkward he is.

He looks over some of the test photos while the videos load, and he sees Oscar’s eyes on him a lot of the time. Lando’s own are on the camera, his posture relaxed as he goes through the motions of what the team asks of him.

OR

Lando notices just how much Oscar stares at him, until one day he realises just how much he stares back.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49769368#main

• Mutual Pining *3.8k

> Home Is Wherever You Are =

‘You know, we could ask Carlos to babysit tonight,’ Lando mumbled against his mouth.

Oscar pulled back and hit his husband’s chest while laughing at him and shaking his head.

‘The man just arrived, babe, we can’t ask that right away!’

Lando pouted and pulled Oscar back against his chest. ‘But it’s been so long since it’s just been the two of us.’

OR: Lando and Oscar spend the day with their daughter and friends before finally having some alone time

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49909321

• Kid!fic, Established Relationship, Fluff *4.1k

> Grand Theft August =

Oscar Piastri, eh? It's not the worst idea he's ever had.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49975555?view_adult=true#main

• Angst, Humor, Smut *6.9k

> We’re All in the Butter But Some of Us Are Looking At the Cars = ♥️

Under it, the cross stitch with the Mandela quote, there was another one. A different one. Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars. Stars, again. And then the one beneath that was also about stars. Weird, he thought, then went to the till to wait for his sister.

Above the pile, too high for twelve year old Oscar to read, a sign was stamped. SECTION #13: REACH FOR THE STARS.

Twenty two year old Oscar rests his nose to the glass and looks at the clouds.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49696357

• Angst, Slow burn, Prose, Realization of Feelings *14.3k

> Terraforming =

“WORMHOLES! An Einstein brain child. They are created when FTL objects puncture the bed sheet that is our universe. Going through them should be a trip through timespace, which sounds cool, except it’s not because we never know what’s on the other side—”

“I think you meant fabric, not bed sheet,” Oscar says.

Lando rolls his eyes. “It’s a metaphor, mate.”

“For what?”

“For like. The fabric of the universe.”

“Huh.”

“Shut up.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50099659

• Space AU, Non-Linear Narrative, Angst, Happy Ending *8.8k <- I literally haven’t read this yet because it was uploaded today but i love enzo and all their stuff is fantastic so i’m rec’ing it anyway :)

> Superdense Neutron Star//Post Supernova +

It felt good to laugh. Thursdays already kind of sucked, all of the walking and talking and nothing to do, even when he wasn’t being drilled on the abrupt shift of his career. It was manageable because it had to be; because there was half a season left and a championship spot left to fight for and a team that was still his home, even if he’d just been delivered the eviction notice.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49981615/chapters/126195823

• Angst, Fluff, Ambiguous Ending *21.8k <- i also have not had the time to read this one because of life, but i trust leaf with my feelings (and my life) so this also goes on the list.

EDIT 11/5: More additions to the list!

> Unraveled =

Lando does not have a thing for his roommate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50085112/chapters/126476167?

• Non-Driver AU, Roommate AU, Bartender!Lando, Realization of Feelings *7.1k

> It’s Not Queerbaiting, It’s Saving the World =

Lando bursts into Oscar’s room without knocking. He’s red in the face and panting, sweat collecting on his forehead like he just ran a marathon.

“You need to kiss me.”

or, the drivers stage a protest, of sorts. Oscar might lose his mind.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49710619#main

• Fluff, Humor *1.6k

> Melepathic. Or Something =

“Thank God we used condoms,” mutters Oscar later, when they’re presentable, no doubt thinking back to last week when they. Well. Lando peeks out the door to check if the hallway is clear. It is.

“Yeah,” he says as he gestures Oscar out. “See you in a few, mate.” Oscar slips through and Lando picks up his phone again, sees a new message. Up for some fun tonight?

sure, says Lando after a moment. Amen to short refractory periods and all that.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47589115#main

• Smut, Miscommunication, Happy Ending, FWB *8.5k

> What Would You Do (If I Went To Touch You Now?) =

“Okay, so they both like each other. We need to get them together.”

“How? Lando’s too freaked out to think straight and Oscar is the human embodiment of the standing man emoji.”

Charles purses his lips for a moment before he snatches his boyfriend’s phone up from the other side of the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Initiating Mission Landoscar.”

“Did you just make that up?”

Charles waves at him dismissively as he begins texting, and Max lays his head down on the coffee table and prays for strength.

***

In which Max tries to prove to an oblivious Charles how glaringly obvious it is that Lando is head over heels in love with Oscar. When Charles finally gets with the program, Lestappen go on A Mission™ to get the two idiots to admit their feelings for each-other, but it’s easier said than done.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48745483/chapters/122963314

• Lestappen as a plot device, Angst, Slight Smut, Fluff, Humor, Texting, Escape Room Shenanigans *29.7

> Soft Vanilla Foreplay = ♥️

“Oh shit, you’re,” Lando gasps, smiles. “You’re a. You’re Robin Hood. You’re a kitty Robin Hood.”

Oscar stops grinding. “Can we have this talk tomorrow?”

Lando laughs and comes down to place a kiss on Oscar’s lips. “Yeah. Oh yeah. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be great. I’m sooooo busy right now. Hmm.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50382910/chapters/127293583?

• Vigilantes, Cat!Oscar, Hacker!Lando, Non-Driver AU, Slight angst, Humor, Happy Ending *8.6k

> Is it Gay to Watch Your Teammate on TikTok? (Asking for a friend) +

He’s sitting on the bed, dinner long since picked at, with his knees pulled up to his chest. He feels close to hyperventilating.

It’s playing on loop, some sappy little edit captioned “i need to find someone to look at me the same way oscar looks at lando”.

And really, who the fuck was going to tell him that Oscar smiles at him like that?

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/127611460?

• Fluff, Humor, Ship aware Lando (containment breach of RPF), Pining *4.6k

> HOCKEY!!! Shrimp Colors :) =

Montreal puts Oscar on waivers after years - years of bouncing from the feeder team up to the league, and then back down. Edmonton picks him up.

Edmonton keeps him. Lando does, too.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50562061/chapters/127728067?

• Non-Driver AU, Hockey AU, Leaf puts sports boys into other sports, Angst, Fluff *13.8k

> My Shelter in a Hurricane =

Oscar wants to help Lando get better after the disappointment of Qatar's GP qualification. He doesn't know how...

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50639854/chapters/127923673?

• Fluff, Established Relationship, Post-Qatar Quali, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Pretty When You Cry =

Lando wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry, rip his hairs out, punch a hole into a wall, maybe shove someone, or maybe all of the above.

Or: the mclaren boys comfort each other after that shipwreck of a qualifying.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50624551?view_adult=true#main

• Fluff, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Already Home = ♥️

Lando takes a deep steadying breath. “I think I might be in love with Oscar.” He says, and hates how immediately when he says the words, he knows it’s true.

“Right,” Max says, nodding. “And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’” Lando says, a little outraged. “I can’t be in love with him! We’re married! This is like, a disaster waiting to happen!”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50704861/chapters/128087614?

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Marriage, Falling in Love, Angst, Humor, Fluff *32.5k

> Do You Like Me? Y/N =

oscar & lando have an awkward plane conversation, aided by uquiz.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50706235/chapters/128091004?

• Fluff *3.8k

> Recreate the Sun =

“You know who you sound like when you say that?” Lando asks absently, tossing the open bag of Skittles to one side and hoisting himself up the bed to rest against the pillows, head tipped back, the jut of his Adam’s apple catching stark in the TV’s flickering light.

On some level, Oscar already knows what’s coming. The Cheshire cat grin Lando gives to the ceiling near enough confirms it.

“Who?”

“Mark Webber.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48632239

• PWP, Weed use, Oscar/Mark mentions *3k

> Landoscar Cooking Show =

Lando and Oscar's love story through food-related posts on Instagram

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50825998#main

• Picture fic, Social media fic, Fluff *0k

> Little Renaissance = ♥️

And Oscar - people said he didn’t like the spotlight, didn’t know how to capture it and keep it the way Lando did. They always compared the two of them, in that regard. Even after Oscar left. But they weren’t right, the strangers, not after the first year at least.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50824324/chapters/128393929?

• Future Fic, Retirement, Angst, Pining, Acceptance, Happy Ending, Prose *14.2k

> Those Magic Changes =

“Yeah, right.” Oscar’s beer tastes stale in his mouth. “Sure there’s other perks though, right?”

Logan’s attention has been taken by his phone. Probably a girl, Oscar thinks, or his Mom. Maybe there’s a particularly big fish being shared in the family group chat. He types out a message then locks it with purpose, chucking it face down on the table.

“Yeah, I mean. You know what they say happens when you podium, right? The girl thing?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49308133#main

• Fem!Oscar, Smut, PWP *7.8k

> Sometimes I Start To Think You Hate Me Too =

Lando seems to have come to the conclusion that his strategy of appeasing him isn't working, so he opts for being impersonal, objective. "You were optimistic, Carlos locked up, you both crashed. It was a racing incident, and you - you are being dumb about it."

It doesn't work.

He scoffs, upset, he has never left anything well alone, he digs his heels deeper. "I wasn't too optimistic, I was inexperienced, was I not?"

OR,

The deep fear of yearning, wanting and needing without understanding the jealousy that consumes you. Breaking and breathing heavily under an awfully put facade of everything going well.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49659349/chapters/125339467?

• Angst, Inner Turmoil, Fluff, Happy Ending *3.7k

> Mine =

All in all, it’d been a shit weekend for Oscar. He knew he was beating himself up over understandable, expected rookie mistakes, he knew it was a great learning opportunity, he knew that the damage to his car hadn’t been entirely his fault on both occasions. Even if he didn’t show it or express it outwardly, it stung to watch his teammate stand on the podium - P3 - after all that’d happened. It hurt even more when that P3 became P2 before they’d even finished celebrating.

Lando moved up in the championship, so did the team. He deserved it, but it hurt like a bitch.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/51053692?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Dom!Oscar *2.8k

> Sanctus = ♥️

“Nessun maggior dolore che ricordarsi del tempo felice ne la miseria,” Oscar read. Recited. Proclaimed.

“There is no greater sorrow than thinking back upon a happy time in misery,” Lando echoed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50752399/chapters/128207113?

• Renaissance AU, Non-Driver AU, Angst, Master/Servant Relationship, Religious Imagery, Fluff, Happy Ending *5.5k

> Anything Less Than Human =

Oscar doesn’t really do entrances. Sure, in high society, it’s deemed necessary to stand at the top of some ridiculous staircase and wait for someone to announce your arrival. But that really only works in your favor if your name has any kind of good status associated with it.

Oscar’s not fortunate enough to fall into that category.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49902154/chapters/125979850?

• Vampire!Oscar, Masquerade Ball, Consensual Blood Sucking *2.7k

That’s all for now folks!

Authors (i love and cherish u all, you’re simply the light of my life):

@wanderingblindly @eisenberg @ocontraire @celientjeee @nyoomfruits @gaslybottoms and @ venerat (ao3 user)

P.S. whoever the nonnies are that wrote “Grand Theft August” and “We’re All in the Butter but Some of us are Watching the Cars” i would literally pay you to step on me, thanks and good night.

[meshaamem-li]

imagine how much more vibrant and varied our animation industry could have been if large monopolies like Disney would have spent $20m on 10 films instead of $200m on 1 soulless cashgrab.

seriously. Wish had a budget of 200 MILLION dollars, and for what? a sorry excuse of a story that feels like it's been written by AI? if Disney divided the money across multiple creators and let them pour actual passion into their art, we could have so many more animated films of different genres and for different audiences.

the average movies I can find that aren't a large disney production are usually made on like a $30-60m budget, but Song of the Sea was made with a $7.5m budget, wolfwalkers was made on an $11m budget, and the nightmare before Christmas was $24m. Your Name was only $5.5m!!!! so it's not impossible to make good films on lower budgets.

I'm not saying "don't pay your artists" or limit creativity, but there's no reasons to waste 200 fucking million on a movie that has no soul when there are millions of artists and storytellers who are just itching for their story to be told. not every movie has to have groundbreaking hyperrealistic animation, you can actually make really good and unique animation without it being this fucking expensive! (while still paying your fucking animators because they're fucking amazing and deserve a much higher wage than the Industry standard)

it's like.... why they putting all their money on like 1-2 films a year when they can make at least double that amount and they'll still look good??? why are they not giving any room for experimentation with lower budget films and instead relying on soulless cashgrabs that appease the general audience of parents and doesn't treat their young viewers as people with taste? take more risks!!! bring some variety to the medium!!! this 200 million film could have been 4 50 million films!!! you are a multi BILLION dollar corporation, you have the resources to make multiple films at a time, and not all of them need to be the most amazing and visually appealing movie of all time!

yes, movie production is complicated and requires a LOT of people and a LOT of time, and costs a LOT of money, but animation evolved a lot over the years, and we're at a point where indie animators can make a solid short film basically by themselves at home and it would look much better than anything that was made 30 years ago because the tools we have now are much more powerful and accessible.

[dirtybitfic]

Taken in Pt.1

matt x y/n

Y/n's dad suddenly passes , her dad left her everything in the will and left his business in the hands of his dearest friend ... but the business isn't all he left in his hands

Yesterday was my fathers funeral . I never thought that id loose my dad so young I guess I thought he'd always be around when I needed him . He was healthy and active which is why this sudden death was such a shock . My dad was my best friend , he loved me more than anything in the world and I the same , he may have been a hard working man but he was always there for me no matter what . He was a single parent to me since my mother passed from cancer when I was four, I know it was hard for him but he did the best he could and I couldn't have asked for a better dad.

Now that he's gone I just feel empty , like nothing matters . I decided not to finish out my senior yer of high school which my father was fully supportive of . I hated school , I was never good at it and it effected my mental health terribly . My father was very rich and now I guess... I am which is kind of scary . I enjoy art , painting and sketching is the one thing I am good at . My father loved coming home and sitting with me as he told me about his day and I would just paint and listen . My father told me " Me amore , if school isn't something you enjoy and you'd rather spend your time home painting and doing what you love I am in full support , I just want you to be happy and have a fulfilling life and if this is it then I am happy too" after that conversation he pulled me out of school and bought so many art products I couldn't run out even if I tried .

I found out during my meeting with our accountant that my father left me everything , the house , the money , the cars , the jet .... which I am grateful for but what could I ever do with all of that at 20 years old . The one thing I was least expecting was to find out that my father left his multi- billion dollar company to a man i've never met .... well evidently I did but so long ago I couldn't remember . Even more shockingly my father had out in his will that if for any reason he passed before I was married or had a family of my own that he wished for me to live with this friend of his .

So now I'm packing away my life to move to Oregon . Im so nervous only because I haven't seen my fathers friend since I was probably 4 years old , i'm not very good with people i'm introverted and quiet. If I had the choice i'd stay here and live alone , sure id feel a bit sad and very lonely in the house without my dad but id feel comfortable in my own space . I know my father wouldn't want me to live with his friend or leave his company with him if he didn't fully trust that he would take very good care of us. My father was very selective with who he was close with and trusted , i'm the same way so I know that he must be a very good person which I guess settles my worries a little .

My fathers assistant has been here helping me with everything , she is in a way a motherly figure to me . Lina has been my fathers assistant since I was about 6 so she's been a very important person in our lives . She helped me get ready for school and with my school work when I struggled and my dad wasn't able to help , she drove me to school and would take me shopping . All around she did everything a mother would and i'm sad to have to leave her behind. " Y/n I know this is all scary for you but I know Matt well . He is a bit intimidating and cold but thats strictly when we talk business , your father loved him as a brother . He trusted him with you for a reason okay , i'll always be a phone call away you know that" Lina says as we pack up the last couple of things . " I know I just... I hate leaving you Lina , you're the closest thing i've had to a mother and it breaks my heart that I have to move away . This house , the place i've lived my entire life ... I know It will always be here and you'll take good care of it but its bittersweet leaving you know" I say as I try and hold back tears but fail when I see her crying . " I know my sweet girl , I hate that you have to leave but on the bright side this could be good for you , new environment and new things to inspire you for your art " she says and I smile " yeah you're right I know it will all be okay " I say as we share a long hug and the moving truck pulls up in the driveway .

After loading up all my things , lots of huge luggage filled with my clothes , shoes , makup , art supplies , easels, canvases, room decor, books and other random shit. Evidently Lina and Matt talked and he asked what I like my room to look like and the furniture designs I like , then went on and entire shopping spree to make my room and his house to my liking . It was sweet of him but I feel bad he went through all the trouble for me . We load my shit onto one of the many big ass private jets my dad owns ... well I guess I own now , and i'm off to Oregon. Evidently we're flying into a small airport Matt had built on a big strip of land he owns close to his house . I put my head phones and put on some storm sounds and decide to just sleep though the flight .

I get shaken awake by one of the staff I know well " Hey y/n were about to land sweetheart " she says softly and I smile " Thank you Lisa" I say as I slide off my headphones and put then back in the case and put them in my bag. My leg bounces nervously as we finally land down . Im getting more and more nervous the closer we get to me having to actually get off and greet Matt. Lina did tell me he wasn't as old as my father , evidently my dad had met him when he was intern fresh out of college and the friendship blossomed from there. So I don't know exactly how old he really is but with and educated guess id say late 20's early thirties.

" Ms. Y/n , we're going to start unpacking the lower cabin into the truck but you can go a head and meet Mr. Sturniolo outside and drive up to the house with him" James our pilot says . " Okay , thank you James . Im so glad you decided to stay on staff you truly are the best pilot we could have ever asked for " I say to him before giving him a hug. " You and your father are my favorite passengers , good luck here I think you're going to like it a lot" he says with a little wink before opening the door for me . I step out into a cool breeze immediately looking out to a foggy field surrounded by willow trees and what looks like a garden maze . I walk down the stairs carefully before looking around for said Matt.

" Y/n" I hear a deep voice say to my right and I practically snap my neck to see ... the hottest man i've ever seen in my life . " M-matt?" I ask shakily . " Yep thats me , how was the flight ?" he asks as he walks closer taking the bag that i'm holding then ushering me to a car. "Good I slept the whole time " I say smiling and he returns it " Im glad to hear that , were going to head up to the house so you can get settled in okay , after they bring all your luggage up and we get it inside we can go get some food if you'd like" he explains and I smile and nod " That would be great, I didn't realize how hungry I was until you mentioned it " I say with a small laugh as my stomach grumbles.

He starts up the car and I have to hold back my gasp from how loud it is , his car is so sexy . We pull away from the landing pad and start down a misty road lined with trees and intricate lamp posts . I look out the window taking in the new place i'll be living for, at this point ,I don't know how long. It's actually quite beautiful if i'm being honest. The amount of deep thick wood and forest , filled with deep fog and animals lurking in the shadows , its quite alluring . I cant wait to paint it , show the true darkness and dancing shadows in the fog , the vibe here is matching my mood lately .

We finally reach a gate and make our way through and up a long loop drive way , he parks and turns off the car . He gets out and comes to my side opening the door for me and offering me his hand to assist getting out , another kind gesture that makes me smile. " come ill show you to your room" he says as he keeps hold of my hand leading me up the stairs and through the large black door into a grande foyer , it feels like a mid evil castle inside and I love every bit of it. " Wow your house is ... just wow " I say as I look around , my mouth hung open as I follow every detail with my eyes. " Thank you but it's your house too now don't forget that , I want you to feel at home and comfortable here so if there is anything you'd want to change I have no problem doing that" he says smiling at me I return it with a small nod. He leads me up the beautiful stair case and into a long hallway going to the right instead of the left. " Your room is just down here " he says leading me down the long checker floored hall . I love the vibe of this house its very dark but it has the perfect gothic victorian look. " here you are " he says as he drops my hand and opens the door for me , I smile as I take in my new bedroom . It's perfect , the dark rich blue walls that almost look black, all black furniture and bedding god I love it. " Oh my god I love it " I say as I turn to him smiling . " Oh thank god I really tried my best to make it exactly how you'd like from what Lina told me but... if i'm going to be honest I was scared you would hate it" he says smiling softly at me jokingly wiping sweat off his forehead. " No really its perfect I love it , thank you for you know ... putting in that much money and effort for me to feel comfortable here it means a lot" I say wanting to give him a hug but i'm to scared to initiate it. He opens his arms for me and I immediately hug him .

It feels ... safe and warm . His broad shoulders and muscles tensing as he holds me tight makes me almost want to cry. I hold onto him like my life depends on it . Feeling a mans touch , a mans hug makes me miss my father even more . My dad gave the best hugs so having that feeling again has tears falling down my face in seconds . Matt shushes softly as he runs a hand softly over my hair and holds my head closer to his chest letting soak his shirt with my salty tears . " I know sweet I know let it all out" he coos making me cry harder as the emotions finally hit me . He slowly backs us to a chair as he sits pulling me with him . Im cooled into a ball on his lap as he rocks me softly as I let all my emotions out . It does feel a bit weird to be rocked and on a mans lap crying at the ripe age of 20 especially a man I barley know but... it feels right and I feel safe .

I must have fallen asleep because I wake up in bed hearing quite shuffling somewhere in my room. I sit up looking around finding Matt putting away clothes into the large walk in closet in my room . I sniffle making him turn around to look at me . " Hey sorry did I wake you ?" he asks and I shake my head " How long have I been asleep ?" I ask and he looks at his watch " About 9 hours" he says smiling at me " Oh shit i'm sorry , we were supposed to get food I didn't mean to fall asleep" I apologize feeling bad I slept through the night . " No its okay , you wore yourself out crying and you obviously needed the sleep " he says as he hang up a couple of my sweatshirts in the closet . " yeah I guess you're right... I haven't been sleeping well lately" I say running a hand through my messy hair and yawning . " Well what do you feel like doing today , we can go get some breakfast, cook here , watch a movie, go into town and walk around ... whatever you want to do " he says and I smile thinking over the options . " I kind of feel like going for a long walk actually and maybe some coffee" I say and he nods "Done and done , I'll let you get changed and stuff and you can meet me downstairs in the kitchen when your ready" he says smiling and making his way to the door " Hey Matt" I say softly and he turns " Yes" he says quietly " Thank you " I smile and he tilts his head smiling " For what?" he asks and I shrug " For letting me come live with you , for being so kind , making this room perfectly for me and letting me cry lat night ... I know this probably throws off your normal day to day life and having a girl in your house is probably a lot to adjust to so really just thank you" I ramble on and he smiles sweetly " Of corse y/n , your father made it clear to me from when you were young that if anything went wrong he wanted me ti be there for you and I made that promise to him 10 years ago and I intend to keep it for the rest of my life , I know this all seems scary and is a lot to take in but all you need to know if i'm happy your here and you are not a burden to me " he says and I smile as I choke up at his kind words . " Okay i'll let you get ready now " he says as he steps out and closes the door . I throw on some flare leggings that are lined with fleece and out on a thicker off shoulder sweater and some fuzzy socks . I find my make up and toiletry bag and head into my large bathroom . I wash my face and do my skin care and putting on bit of makeup , eye liner, blush , a but of bronzer , brow gel and some light brow mascara . I run my hands through my hair quickly then head out of my room to the stairs and take them down . Im not exactly sure which way the kitchen is so I just wander to the left hoping its the right way. The further I get I start to hear nose and get hopeful i'm going the right way . I take a right turn into the kitchen and see Matt at the long island making some coffee . " Hey " I say softly as I approach him . " Hey , I heard you like espresso so I made you like a um... what do you call it oh Carmel macchiato or at least I tried to " he says as he hands me the ice cold coffee and I smile " Thank you " I say before taking a sip , I cant help the moan that slips out of my mouth as I close my eyes . " Good" he asks laughing at my reaction " Best one i've ever had" I say smiling at him " Oh that cant be true you're just being nice" he says shaking his head smiling " No seriously it's really fucking good" I say and he smiles " Good i'm glad you like it" .

After finishing my coffee Matt gives a bit of a hard time about me needing to put on warmer clothes if we're going to go for a walk . Some could even call it a small argument .

" You're going to need some warmer clothes if were going for a walk" he told me and I laughed " Oh come on ill be fine its not that cold" I told him and he shook his head " Yes it is y/n it is 48 degrees outside right now , you need to put on warmer clothes " he told me with a stern look " I don't want to i'll be fine " I told him crossing my arms stubbornly " If you don't put on warmer clothes were aren't going of a walk" he shot back with a glare and I laughed " Are you serious right now" I asked him and he shot me a look " Yes now go upstairs and change" he told me before pointing to the hallway and giving me a hard glare . " Wow one day in and your already ordering me around like your my dad ... I don't know who you think you are telling me what to do i'm not a child " I spit back with attitude which didn't seem to make him very happy " Your living under my roof until that changes ill tell you what to do and you'll listen is that understood " He has said to me in a tone that had me fuming . " Oh your roof now right right you know what . fuck . you. Matt " I had growled back at him before running out of the house and onto a path leading into thick foggy woods.

Now I seem to be lost and im fucking freezing . I am now realizing running away into these woods wasn't the bets idea . In the moment I was angry with him ordering me around so soon but ... now that use been out here for probably 2 hours I wish I had just listened to him and put on warmer clothes. The further I walk I start to see water in the distant fog . I reach the small clearing , i'm met by a small little pond swamp type of thing . I look to my left and see a grave heard in the distance and decide to wait out there till I either decide to magically find my way back home or some one to somehow find me.

I reach the grave yard and a chill runs down my spine , its slowly getting darker and more foggy creating a creepy vibe over the surrounding area. I would normally think this was beautiful but right now , i'm scared and cold and very much regretting my decision to run away. I find a small bench to sit on . I sit and think about how terrible my life is going as of right now. My dad just died last month , I up routed my entire life here, I have no friends , I know no one here and I just got into a fight with the only person who seems to care about me here .

The longer is sit here the more scared I get. I swear I keep hearing sounds around me , crackling branches , whispers in the distance and animals howling . The fog has become thick blurring my line of vision in every direction . Now that I think about it , I might have matts number in my phone . I bring it out of my pocket and look through my contacts searching for his number . I fine it and immediately dial praying to god he picks up , just my luck my phone is a bout to die which makes this situation that much worse. After 5 rings he picks up . " Y/N WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU IVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR 3 HOURS" he yells through the phone sounding angry but also worried " A- a graveyard , I got lost I don't know where I am and i'm scared " I rush out and I hear him sigh through the phone " Its okay I know where you are , stay there okay ill be there as fast as I can " he says as I hear tires screech in the background . " o-okay ... i'm sorry Matt I didn't mean to get lost for so long " I say quietly as tears threaten to spill . " Its okay I know you didn't mean too , i'm sorry for yelling I was just worried " He apologizes his tone calm now. " We will be having a talk when we get home okay , i'm not mad we just need to set some rules" he says and I sigh " Yes sir" I answer not even realizing how weird it was , i'm so used to saying it to my dad when we would argue and it just naturally slipped out . I hear him clear his throat before speaking "Okay i'm pulling up to the gate just look for head lights okay" he says and I look around " Okay I see them i'm walking to you now" I say as I get up and start towards the lights in the distance .

The second I reach the door I open it quietly claiming in not looking at him out of fear. " I was really worried y/n " He says as he starts driving away " I- I know i'm sorry I won't do it again" I say before a tear slips down my cheek . I feel terrible for the way I acted towards him , I mean fuck he took me in and this is how I thank him on the first day of living together .

We drive in silence until we park in the drive way and head into the house . " Come to the living room " he says and I follow behind him quietly . He sits in front of the fire place that currently has a crackling fire immuring heat into the room . I sit next to him on the floor curling my legs to my chest and resting my head on my knees . " so first things first . i'm sorry for ordering you around this morning , I didn't mean to act like I did and i'm sorry , second that can never happen again you could have seriously been hurt out in the forest all alone and third we need to talk about some other things so we can keep this from happening again" he says and I nod along " I accept your apology and i'm sorry too , I over reacted and worried you and that was not what I wanted to do , I guess I just... i'm not used to being reprimanded like that and I blew it out of proportion so again i'm sorry and any rules you set I will obey from now on I promise " I say and look over at him to see him smiling , I smile back and he puts an arm around my shoulder pulling me close to his side .

" Okay here are a couple ground rules , If I tell you to put on warmer clothes to go outside don't fight me on it i'm doing it for your own good , no wandering around in the garden or woods unless I know your going and you share your location in the case you get lost and I need to find you , last communicate your feeling with me so we can avoid situations like today I don't want to fight with you its not beneficial to either of us and honestly it feels wrong reprimanding you as If your a child , you're an adult and I would like to be able to treat you as such okay" he says and I smile " I understand and I will do my best to obey the rules " I say and he smiles " Good now that that is over with , go change and well go get some dinner i'm hungry and I know you must be too" he says and I nod laughing " starving actually" I respond before getting up and jogging upstairs to my room . I throw on a sweatshirt and sweatpants and some tines shoes then head back down to meet him in the foyer.

We went and had some good food and talked a lot about my dad and Matt seemed to be very interested in my interests . " I know you love painting so I took it upon myself to covert one of the rooms into a art room for you , i'll show you when we get home " he says smiling kindly at me . " That very kind of you" I say smiling at him feeling an over whelming feeling of comfort but also sadness. We head home after a while and i'm practically running into the house because for one its freezing and I have to pee really bad. " Someone is in a rush " he says laughing before unlocking the door " I have to pee" I yell as I sprinting up the stairs to my room .

I head back down stairs after using the bathroom and getting ready for bed , wearing my comfiest pajamas that are slightly skimpy but I never really cared about keeping it modest if i'm just going to be sleeping.

I hear music from the living room and follow it only to walk in seeing the music is coming from Matt playing a grand piano that is set up in front of the large windows looking out into the dark misty forest behind the house. " Claire de lune?" I ask smiling and slowly walking over to the piano . " Yeah its one of my favorite classical songs" he says looking up at me but still playing the piece beautifully. He cocks his head motioning for me to come and sit next to him. I do and watch as his fingers dance over the keys expertly . He finishes the song and taps my thigh softly " Any song you want to hear ?" he asks and I think for a second " Sonata 14?" I say more as a question than answer . He smiles widely before nodding . The second he starts to play I close my eyes and smile listening as he plays it beautifully . I took ballet classes from the age of 4 and stopped when I was 18 . I loved it so much but in injured my foot and it ended my dancing years. " keep playing ill be back" I whisper before running to my room and finding my point shoes in one of the snacked boxes.

I run back down with them in hand smiling . Good thing this house is mostly tile and wood , meaning it gives me a good surface to dance on. This living room is so large that I have a lot of room to dance . " Blair Claire de lune again pretty please " I say as I finish tying up my shoes . He smiles and nods as he finished the last song and slowly moves into Claire de lune again .

I move fluidly as I barre quickly backwards in a line and slowly move into turns . I smile as I move with the music feeling like myself again for the first time in weeks. As I finish a turn he stops playing ad I open my eyes still smiling looking over to see him staring at me with a look I cant quite place .

I walk over to him breathing slightly hard from all of the turns I just did . " That was beautiful " he says smiling at me . " Your amazing at playing piano" I compliment back and he shakes him head " Eh i'm okay I guess" he says making me laugh and lightly smack his shoulder " Your amazing " I say and I swear I see a light blush cover his cheeks.

I take my shoes off and he gets up " Come on ill show you your art room " he says and I follow behind him down a long hall to the right . We walk right into a gorgeous sun room that is now covered in different easels and multiple different sized canvases , shelves littered with every type of paint I could ever need all organized by color .

" Aww Matt ... this is amazing t-thank you " I say as I look around feeling overwhelmed . I feel tears sting my eyes , i'm honestly embarrass by how much i've cried infant of him already. " Come here " he says opening his arms for a hug . I immediately hug him tight crying thanking him over and over again . " I want you to know I really do care for you y/n , truly I want to give you the world just like your father did , and if art is what makes you happy then I will spend every ounce I have until this room is filled with supplies to last you forever " He whispers to me while soothingly running his hand over my hair . " Thank you Matt really , I - I don't know how to thank you but I - I feel cared for and after the month I have had you've made me happy so thank you really from the bottom of my heart " I say looking up at him smiling . He uses his thumbs to wipe my tears and places a soft kiss on my head . " Oh I also installed blue tooth speakers in the ceiling so you can play your music as loud as you want while you paint " he says smiling down at me . " Won't that disturb you though?" I ask and he smiles " No for the most part i'll be in the city for work but I will be spending a couple months working from home just until you settle in fully and are comfortable enough to be here alone " he says a nod " sounds good to me " I shrug smiling at him .

" Okay I have one last surprise in the garage for you" he says and I look at him confused " Oh come on you'll love it " He says grabbing my hand and ushering me towards the garage . We walk through the house and as soon as we reach the door he covers my eyes with his hands " Okay open the door and then carefully walk down the steps , there are 5 steps okay?" he says and I nod smiling feeling excited but scared i'm going to bust my shit . I carefully walk down the steps and sigh when I reach level ground " Okay take 6 step forward and then stop " he instructs and I do . he pulls his hands away and I open my eyes , jaw dropping when I see the most beautiful convertible . It's my literal dream car . " MATT WHAT this - this cant be for me ..." I say as I stare at him in shock " Oh it is . It's all yours" he says smiling as he hands me the keys . I squeal as I jump onto him hugging him giggling in excitement . " It wasn't all me ... your dad he um , he had told me a while ago that this was your dream car but he could never find one so I had been searching for it for a while . I found it and bought it for an amazing price but I had to have it reconstructed and fixed up but I know the red seating was the biggest part you loved so I had someone makes custom red leather seats for you " he says and I smile " Thank you thank you thank you " I repeat crying happy tears . I may have grown up with money but I was not raised like a spoiled brat . My dad spent his money wisely and never let me become the type of stuck up rich kid like so many others I grew up around . So having Matt go through all the trouble to make my room exactly how id like, remodel and entire room into a art studio for me and spend thousands of dollars on my dream car for me makes me feel so loved .

" You happy with it ?" he asks and I laugh " Are you kidding words cant even describe how this all has made me feel , I love it so much Matt thank you " I say bringing him back in for a long hug . " How about a little test drive huh?" I ask him wiggling my eyebrows making him laugh . " Okay go grab your shoes and a coat and we'll take it for a spin" he says and I immediately run giggling in excitement all the way to my closet throwing on a coat and shoes and running back down . " Woah fucking shit slow down slow down before you hurt yourself " he says as I run into the garage so fast I barrel into him kicking us both off of our feet . He groans from the fall to the floor as I burst out laughing apologizing through tears from laughing so hard " S-sorry oh my god I d-didnt mean to take you down like t-that" I say still laughing . " Alright crazy lets get this bad boy started up" he says as he helps me up from the floor and opens the car door for me . I climb in and wait for him to get situated in his seat before I turn on the car and smile eyes widening when I hear the loud engine start.

We get out of the driveway and onto the road and i'm immediately smiling as we Cruze through the windy roads . Its dark and a little foggy but I just cant believe i'm driving my dream car .

Matt had some upgrades done to the radio so I have a touch screen , navigation, back up camera and bluetooth. I connect my phone when we hit a stop sign and start playing Rx queen by deftones . He looks at me shocked " what?" I ask smiling and he smiles " Just shocked you listen to this band is all" he says laughing . " I loveeee deaftones" I say and he smiles " same " he says before turning it up . After driving around for probably 30 minuets were pulling back into the garage .

" Im exhausted" I say with a yawn and he nods agreeing " Me too , need anything before we head off to bed ?" he asks and I think " Mm some water and then I'm out" I say and he nods heading to the kitchen to fill up a cup for me . He hands me the ice cold water and gives me a quick hug before heading to bed. " I'll be up early , I have a couple important zoom meetings tomorrow so i'll be in my office most of the day but if you need me come and knock alright" he says and I nod " okay good night" I say waving good bye as I make my way to my room .

The second I hit the bed and rip off my clothes , shoes and socks and am left in just my under wear I turn on the fan and put on a movie I don't care about , I turn off the lights and fall asleep .

Ive only been here three days now but i'm already starting to like living here . Its a beautiful state and Matt has been amazing . Im excited to see more of what Oregon has to offer and growing closer to Matt hopefully building a better relationship and feeling comfortable to fully be myself around him .

[fishfingersalad]

big post of all my random rvb au ideas and some hcs, decided this was more reasonable than making like 20 different posts.

Hc the freelancers who die are like submarines that go missing, officially still out on patrol. Florida is the only freelancer that is officially gone from the program. A rumor starts that the freelancers suits are in some way connected to the us states so people think that when florida (state) blew up, so did Agent Florida's armour killing him in the process

 (I'm an ace Tucker believer) Y'know how Tucker gets charged child support for a bunch of kids post chorus? I don't think he has any kids outside of Junior. I think a bunch of people who got pregnant post temple of procreation were like shit idk the kids other parent. Uhhhh. Let's just say it was the rich famous planetary hero guy who claims to have slept with everyone. He probably doesn't even remember the people he's slept with. And then Tucker, asexual who has had sex one (1) time and realised he didnt like it very much, is stuck between revealing to the whole goddamn planet that he doesnt actually fuck, and paying a billion dollars of child support.

In an everyone lives no one dies type au I think Donut gets Maine, Locus, South, and Wash to come to his wine and cheese hour and he does their makeup and their nails.

Au where Sigma is just so fucking invested in getting Maine and Wash to date that he doesnt do anything evil. "Agent Maine, I think you will find this course I have signed you up for quite informative" Sigma this is a couples wine and pottery class "Oh look, is that Agent Washington over there? you should go say hi."

Au where Wash and Epsilon bond. It still fucks Wash up and shit, cause yknow. Epsilon issues. But Wash goes like "I am going to fucking kill the director he fucked you ai over so much" And Epsilon is so taken aback bc of Alphas view of Wash from an outside, heavily filtered perspective made him seem happy go lucky, innocent, and a bit naive.

Au where the freelancers find out that the director is Linas dad and behind her back they're all like "hey is she okay? why does he talk to her like that?" but then whenever she's around they just accuse her of nepotism. Gamma and Sigma team up to hack the leaderboard and change her name to nepotism baby.

I love South. I wish she existed more. I wish her and North and Theta could have gotten along. I wish Theta could suit jump like Omega and Alpha. I wish Theta could spend time with South. Like yeah South wouldn't like having to share an ai with her brother but like. He's their littlest brother.

Junior and Theta could autism bond. I think they'd both like comics. Also Junior teaches Theta basketball and Theta teaches Junior to skate. Skateboard kid plus scooter kid. I think Palomo would like to skateboard too. Wash and Palomo both helped teach Theta to skateboard. Wash bc he's friends w North, Palomo bc he's at the skatepark frequently. Jensen roller skates, she's... okay at it. not good. but okay. She broke her tailbone trying to impress Palomo. Andersmith would work at a youth center that the teens hang out at. Matthews works at a movie theatre, Bitters watches a movie there every week, maybe just to see Matthews.

Sarge werebear. Simmons vampire. Grif faun. Donut Light Elemental. Lopez is a ghost that got stuck in a shitty robot Sarge built. Church and the ai are ghosts, Tex is a vampire, Caboose is a werewolf (big doggy :3). Siren Tucker. Deep sea mermaid Junior (glowing octopus type stuff). Faun Kai (same as Grif). Carolina’s a Phoenix. Wash some kind of big cat thing. Florida Shapeshifter (he prefers being reptiles). The twins are demons. 479er is a harpy. York poltergeist (throws stuff at people). Wyoming's some kind of “answer my riddles three” type of imp. Ct is also a shapeshifter. Maine’s just a regular guy with a lot of weird friends. Felix and Locus are a fire elemental and a dryad respectively. Siris is a water elemental. In my au Donut’s a light elemental which makes it so fucking funny if Church pops up and says "boo" Donut just fucking decks him. and through Church being a ghost (a form of light) and Donut being a light elemental, Donut’s fist connects. South is the demon people are more likely to fear, but North is the one you really need to look out for. When South loses her temper people get frightened, when North loses his temper people die. If there's like. a group of kids exploring or something North’ll hold South back from doing anything more than scaring them. If there's a priest attempting an exorcism or someone with a cross threatening South, their organs will be found separately from their bodies. 

It's kinda funny when people make Church and Lina siblings and then Tex is just some random girl that Church likes. Like I fully understand why and the only other alternative i can think of is like. Church is the director's younger brother who was raised alongside his daughter after their parents died. and Tex is Allison's younger sister. Only way I could put together Church kinda being the director and Tex kinda being Allison but also Church and Lina being siblings without there being any relation between Tex and Church.

Florida and Ct have a coworker friends relationship i think. When they first met I think Florida said something vague and threatening to her so she pulled a knife on him. They've been sort of friends ever since.

[palmtreepalmtree]

I was tagged forever ago by the lovely @statueinthestone. Thank you for thinking of me, my friend.

This is 15 Questions for 15 Mutuals - I aim to not follow these instructions.

1. Are you named after anyone?

Yes, my grandfather Shlomo. My name, like his name, means peace.

2. When was the last time you cried?

This morning, reading the news.

3. Do you have kids?

No, thank you.

4. What sports do you play/have played?

I played softball as a kid - had a good arm so played catcher mostly once stealing became a thing which I did not enjoy. Also played JV tennis in high school. I did enjoy that and wish I had kept it up.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Is there a single person who has answered this question without sarcasm?

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Truly, no idea. I am one of the least observant people around.

7. What's your eye color?

Hazel.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I reject this binary, but accepting this binary, happy endings.

9. Any talents?

Not really. My hobbies come in waves.

10. Where were you born?

La la land.

11. What are your hobbies?

These days it's mostly cross-stitch, crossword puzzles, and stardew valley.

12. Do you have any pets?

Not at this time.

13. How tall are you?

I'm not. I'm in 2-D.

14. Favorite subject in school?

The classes that were most meaningful to the development of my worldview were: Women in Film, Sex and Gender, Constitutional Law, Immigration Law, International Law, and National Security Law & Policy.

15. Dream job?

To the extent I must work, I'm pretty much doing it, but I suppose otherwise I'd love to have my own foundation and give billions of dollars away.

I'm not following these instructions and tagging anyone else, but I'd love to read anyone else's response if you like to do it.

[the-villian-7th]

Here's a hypothetical: What if you won the lottery tomorrow? You get 10 million dollars to spend; however you wish. What would you do with that amount of money?

Personally, I'd buy a house, invest 1 million, give 2 million to my family, and then use the remaining 7 million for charity.

at a 4% quarterly interest rate, I'd make 120k a year just off my investments, which is twice the average income in my city. and I wouldn't have any debt, or have to make payments on a house or for rent. I'd be very very rich by anyone's standards.

With the remaing 7 mil, I'd donate a bunch of money to local queer organizations that have impacted my life heavily. I'd also give a bunch to some local food banks and housing programs, and give a bunch to rainbow railroad. that 7 million could probably have a huge impact on the lives of a ton of people.

Jeff bezos has a net worth of 208.7 billion dollars, over 2000 times bigger than our hypothetical amount.

Is that ethical? is it ok, morally, to sit on that much money, when it could do so much good?

What would you do, if tommorow, you had 208,700,000,000 dollars?

[catboycumgutters]

text below. now. i don't do celebrities. and the only thing i know about this guy is that thrift shop is a fuckin bop. but @macklemore has good words to share here, so, (the "two words" were "fuck america" btw)

there are nine images in one post from instagram user macklemore. in order,

1/ My thoughts and feelings are not always expressed perfectly or politely. Sometimes I slip up and get caught in the moment. Saturday night was one of those times.

I strive to always lead with love in an effort to bring people together and never to create more division. The "Palestine Will Live Forever" festival I performed at was rooted in peace, love, and solidarity. Unfortunately, the historic event in my hometown that brought thousands of people together to raise awareness and money for the people of Palestine has become overshadowed by two words.

2/ I wish I had been in a better place with my grief and anger. But the truth is I'm not ok. I haven't been.

The last 11.5 months of watching a genocide unfold in front of us has been excruciating on a spiritual, emotional and human level. I have been in utter disbelief with how our government is showing up at this moment in history. I don't think I'm alone.

I see dismembered kids in Gaza being pulled out of rubble, murder by U.S manufactured bombs. I see my own children in their lifeless bodies. I don't think I'm alone.

3/ I listen to their parents scream and hear the deepest cries of pain and helplessness imaginable. I cry with them. I don't think I'm alone.

I have been disillusioned and disheartened as our government has continued to unequivocally fund and support Israel's on-going violence against the people of Palestine. I don't think I'm not alone.

My pain and emotion at times has felt uncontrollable. It boils over throughout the day as I try to pretend I'm ok. I'm not ok. I don't think I'm alone.

4/ I am outraged by the fact that we lack money for healthcare, affordable housing and education in America yet we send billions to Israel to commit internationally recognized war crimes. I don't think I'm alone.

I watch democrats sign bills to ban semi-automatic assault rifles after another horrific school shooting takes place, then turn around and use the same ink to send those same weapons off to Israel to kill the children of Palestine. I feel insane. I don't think I'm alone.

Some days I don't know how to love something that is hurting others so much. I don't think I'm alone.

5/ Yet, I have been mobilized by the millions of people around the world taking to the streets to protest on behalf of all those that have been murdered by Netanyahu's regime. I have been in awe and inspired by those in the Jewish community that have courageously shown up in solidarity, marching with protesters at protests stating "not in our name" and "never again means never again for everyone." I don't think I'm alone.

I have found hope in our young people, who have been willing to risk their degrees by participating in college encampments to demand a ceasefire. I have been revitalized by their hearts guiding them towards justice and peace, risking their future diplomas. I don't think I'm alone.

6/ But some days the darkness outshines the light, and it's hard to see the path ahead to justice. I get lost in what our world has become.

Some days the genocide displayed on my screen is too much for my spirit to stare at in such clarity.

And some days I wake up, see another couple billion dollars given to Israel, or another refugee encampment destroyed, or a father holding a limb from his martyred child, or another speech from a politician justifying the right of Israel to "defend itself" while denying Palestinians the right to exist, and I say to myself... . "Fuck America." I don't think I'm alone.

7/ But do not misconstrue the word "fuck" for the word "hate." It's different to be angry than to disown. My "fuck" - my anger - is rooted not in disdain for where I was born but in anguish for how we can collectively allow this to continue. It is not directed at the people that make up our country, but towards our government who refuse to listen to us. It is directed at the politicians who have put profit over people, who put lobbyist money over their moral compass. I think, "How are these people representing us as a country?" I don't think I'm alone.

8/ But I care. My care is rooted in the legacy of protests and resistance of past generations, who stood at the forefront of the Civil Rights Movement, the movement against he Vietnam War, and the great solidarity movement that defeated apartheid in South Africa. This moment is calling us as Americans to rise and recognize our collective power rather than succumb to our own apathy. It is beckoning us to gain a shared analysis around the systems of oppression that are currently running our country so we can evolve, ensuring that ALL of our children can live in a more equitable world, and not only a few.

9/ I've slipped in front of the world before. I'm sure I'll do it again. But they will not silence my voice, and they will not close my heart. I've lost endorsements, I've lost shows, I've lost business ties. I am still here, unwavering in my support for a Free Palestine. I care about humanity and this earth too much to turn back now. My intent always comes back to the pursuit of peace, love, equality and liberation for all. And that isn't radical, it's human. I don't think I"m alone.

/end

[theliterarywolf]

RE : Welcome Home r34.

My position is that disregarding Clown's wishes is shitty, but also this is the internet and porn of things that get popular is kind of inevitable. You can mitigate it by politely asking not to, and most will listen. But R34 artists are kind of a stubborn contrarian bunch (especially if they hang around places like 4chan) and telling them no even in the tactful way Clown did would probably just spur them to go "Nyeeeeehhhh fuck you I won't do what you tell me" And what makes it worse is that such a position becomes easier to justify if you're someone who's had to put up with a decade plus of "RULE34 IS BAD!!!!! THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!1!! I DON'T CARE IF YOU TAG IT SO THAT I CAN'T SEE IT JUST BY STUMBLING UPON IT, IF YOU SEXUALIZE MY BLORBO YOU'RE A PEDOPHILE!!!1!!11 BRONIES ARE RAPE APOLOGISTS WHO ARE ALSO PEDOPHILES AND STOLE A LITTLE GIRLS SHOW AWAY FROM THEM BECAUSE MUH SOGGY KNEES!!!! ANIME FANS ARE EVIL ALT RIGHT PEDOPHILES!! FANS OF JAPANESE MADE VIDEO GAMES ARE PEDOPHILES!!!!1 PEDO PEDO PEDO PEDO PEDO REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Like I don't think it's *okay*, I'm just saying that this is highly disappointing, but unsurprising.

See, so this is the exact mentality I was thinking about when I answered those first few asks.

Because, you know what? You're right: the internet is the internet and certain people are just going to do whatever the hell they want either way.

However, I'm going to bring up a few portions written by myself and others that kind of lean into my ultimate attitude on situations like this.

'Read more' because this turned into a doozy.

First and foremost, this portion from Absolmon's reblog of one of the earlier posts:

"I also think there’s a world of difference between a small time creator wanting to retain some control of their characters vs a billion dollar corporations character. I remember when JaidenAnimations made an statement saying she was upset by all the porn made of her avatar character, especially with her collaborators and people rushing out to make even more of it. The fact that Jaiden is ace and has a well known history of body image issues just makes it even more skeevy. "

This portion from a conversation I was having with Marquis de Glad:

Marquis - I dunno... Is it any different than all the people who make Rule34 of Elizabeth from Bioshock Infinite despite the creator not liking it? Or is that something you dislike as well? Mind you, I know basically nothing about this entire thing other than what you've posted, so it's possible I'm missing some context

Me - Well, I'm of the mindset that 'not liking' =/= 'please don't do this' I'm sure that Hasbro doesn't like all the MLP smut out there, but they never actually said 'please don't create this'. Another example would be how Martin Freeman's wife was talking about how she didn't like all the porn of her husband's characters people made that she kept finding when wanting to show their kids their dad's work... But she never said 'please don't do this'

And then, finally, from an ask I just answered:

"No one wants to think about the creators of their favored IPs anymore. They just want to be given the shiny new ball to treat (or mistreat) in any way they see fit for a while before dumping it to the wayside a month or so later to do it to something else. And if, heaven forbid, you get a creator who dares to want to have some matter of agency with how people engage with their creation, well...

'Why do you hate people having fun?'

'Well, I'm just going to do it anyway.'

'So... Anyway, these characters are now mine because the creator is obviously shitty and doesn't know them as well as I do'"

However, one other thing that I think a lot of people aren't remembering in the conversation around this issue is the notion of boundaries. And not just the boundaries creators are justified in setting for themselves, but the boundaries within fandom itself.

Because, going back to the whole rhetorical reenactment you had up there, there was a time when NSFW creators used to be able to lock up their work behind certain tags so that creators and minors wouldn't have to see it unless they took it upon themselves to sniff around. Remember things like Steven Universe smut being tagged as 'Stephen Galaxy', MLP smut having the nickname of 'Clop', or even people trying to recreate that effect in the Cookie Run fandom with tags like 'NotSafeforCookies'.

On the opposite end of this (the boundary established for NSFW to exist in so that creators and minors wouldn't have to see it), then, it would be understood that Creators and Minors wouldn't engage with said content.

Is the picture that I'm trying to establish here clear? Because while we can talk about 'respect a creator's boundaries' until the cows come home, some people will just not want to do that. Especially in the current fandom-space where NSFW is being demonized more and more. However, we are currently suffering a pandemic of people either refusing to tag properly or purposefully tagging their work with the most popular tags so that it is basically guaranteed to go outside of its intended audience.

And that is why, in a conversation that should only center around a creator becoming overwhelmed by how people are treating and feeling justified to their creation, you keep having people bring up fanpol and proshippers. Because that boundary being trampled on by both sides of the equation is what will continue to cause situations like this.