#this was everything i had hoped for and then some

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here?

Summary: Things aren't going as smoothly as anyone would like. Maybe they can fix it. Maybe they can't.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 5,970 words

Warnings: Angst, discussion of nightmares, PTSD, discussion of death and killing people, emotions, so many emotions, angst, a little sliver of comfort

A/N: And it is back!! not super proud of this one but I'm starting out on a filler so...yeah. Really just setting up for the next part where some action starts again. You'll see. Anyway, glad to be back at it and I hope you enjoy!

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John stands at the door, gazing out at the yard. It’s pouring rain, dumping buckets on the roof. The water has pooled on the planks of the deck, splattering with every big drop that pours from the sky. The weather once again mirrors your mood, your sobs audible from your room over the pounding on the roof. 

John holds his mug in his hands, staring at the reflection in the window. Kyle and Johnny are sitting on the couch, both looking like kicked puppies. They’re itching to enter your room and go comfort you, but they’ve been kicked out for now. You’re not in the state of mind to be around any of them right now, no matter how badly your sobs tear at their heartstrings. 

You haven’t been in that state of mind for a few hours now. 

Whatever nightmare had plagued your mind last night, it was particularly awful. You’ve been up since the early hours, waking from a nightmare with a terrified scream that had continued until Kyle finally got you to stop and breathe. His ears are still ringing with it, his mind still pulsing with that fear. Something happened. Someone got in. Someone hurt you. 

Nothing happened. No one got in.  

The only threat was still just in your mind. 

Graves. 

He knows that’s at least part of your nightmares. Christine had disclosed that to him quietly on the side. Even she doesn’t know everything that plagues your dreams, but Graves seems to be a common specter in the darkness of your mind. 

It makes his blood boil, and not just out of anger for what Graves did to you. 

It boils with anger at himself too. 

It’s his fault you’re in this state in the first place. He should have known, he should have seen, he should have suspected. He should have never left you there. You should have been his priority over anything else. 

How badly he’s failed you. 

He lets out a sigh, turning away from the window to move over to the couches. He sinks down with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. The little progress you’ve made has regressed with this new string of nightmares, the fear pushing you further and further back into your mind. He’s resolved himself to only get worried when Christine is worried, and right now she’s beginning to look worried. If you regress back again, the chances of bringing you out of that are slim. Sure, there are plenty of options to help, but you have to want them to help. 

He knows exactly what will help, you just don’t want it. 

He runs a hand through his hair as your sobs begin to quiet. It’s longer than he’s let it get for a long time. They’re all a bit scraggly and ragged looking, worn down and lazy now that there’s no strict rules guiding their lives. None of them quite know what to do outside of the regulations they’ve spent the better parts of their lives living under. He’s been in the military longer now than he hasn’t, and he’s been finding himself itching for that structure again. He can never bring himself to relax and put the job aside even on leave. He only takes it when he has to and usually spends it training and keeping his skills sharp. 

Now...now things have changed. 

They have no return now. There’s no clear, set time that they have to return to base. They can’t return to base. It would leave them too open to a possible retaliation from Shepherd. They were betrayed by one of their own already, who's to say someone else wouldn’t be just as eager to become a traitor for a chunk of cash? They’re not even truly safe here. 

How are they going to go back to base after this? Can he bring himself to take you back there, a place you never felt comfortable in the first place? 

Where do they go from here? 

He’s been trying not to think too much about it. That’s a dilemma for a different day. That’s thinking too far ahead. Day by day is as far as he dares to take it now. 

The door closes quietly, John’s head lifting to watch Christine as she approaches the couch. There’s a slump to her shoulders, something that’s been getting lower and lower as the days have progressed. She’s struggling with this just as much as they all are. 

She sinks down on the couch, letting out a long breath. Your sobs have quieted, no sound coming from the room now. The silence is almost eerie after days of constant sounds, good and bad from your room. You were doing better. You were looking more alive and well. 

Then this happened. 

“She’s asleep.” Christine says, her voice strained. “Finally calmed down enough to nap.” She covers her eyes with a hand, sitting there still for a moment. 

“The nightmares?” John asks, glancing at Christine out of the corner of his eye. 

“Worse.” She says, her gaze far away. “She's remembering what happened.” 

John stares at Kyle and Johnny for a moment, the betas returning his worried gaze.

“Those shadows she killed...” Johnny says.

Christine nods. “She's, uh, not taking it well.” 

John runs a hand over his face. He knew it was possible you'd start to remember what happened during the time your omega took control. It wouldn't remain a dark spot forever, though he hoped it would. The things you were forced to do are coming to light now, the things you did to survive because they failed you. Taking the life of someone who deserves it is nothing to them. Taking the life of someone who would take yours just as quickly isn't so much as a second thought. 

You're not like them. 

You've never had to face that reality before, and you shouldn't have had to. 

“One of us should talk to her.” Kyle says.

“I don't think that's the best idea right now.” Christine shakes her head. “She's...regressed a bit. Pushing that on her, while well intentioned, might do more harm than good...” she trails off, her gaze still far away. 

The three of them sit there, waiting for what she’s going to say next. He’s not even sure Johnny or Kyle are breathing as they wait patiently for whatever solution Christine might be able to come up with, whatever move she thinks is the best one to take next. 

“I want to take her out.” Christine says. 

“What?” John asks in surprise. 

“She needs to get out of the house. It’s not doing any of us any good sitting in here all day.” She rubs her eyes. “She expressed interest in going for a walk a couple days ago. She needs to get up and moving, start regaining some of her strength.” 

John lets out a breath leaning back against the couch. He’s tempted to say no. His knee jerk reaction is to refuse. The world outside isn’t safe. If anyone is watching, if anyone sees them...

There’s always going to be that risk though, and Christine is right. Sitting in the house all day isn’t doing any of them any good. They’re at the mercy of the rain, but even then, he doubts it will keep any of them trapped inside for long. 

“When the rain clears up.” He finally says. “We'll discuss it more. But, I think that might be a good idea.” 

“What can we do?” Kyle asks, staring at Christine. 

She lets out a sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve helped hundreds of omegas in crisis and yet I don’t know why this case is so hard.” 

“This has become more personal than those cases.” John says. 

Christine’s shoulders slump even more. “I know. I try so hard but she’s just so...different from other omegas.” 

“This entire situation is different from what you’ve done before.” Kyle says. 

“You’re right.” Christine sighs. “The best we can do is let her lead. Do what she needs, give her what she wants. The worst thing that can happen right now is regression. If she regresses too far, we might never get her back.” 

“What is it? Tell me what ye need.” 

“Can you make me forget?” 

“I wish I could.” 

“Hit me hard enough on the head I might forget everything. Then we can all just start over.” 

“That’s not funny.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” 

“Kitten,” Johnny sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I wish I could make those thoughts go away. I wish I could make them mine.” 

“I killed people.” 

“I know.” He reaches out, touching your hand. “I wish ye didnae have to. Ye were just defending yerself. Those Shadows would have done worse to ye if ye hadn’t.” 

You curl up in your chair, turning away from him. “That’s not helpful.” 

“Sorry.” He says, letting out another sigh. “We just want to help ye.” 

You’re silent for a moment, sitting there listening to the waves. It’s cold this morning, not even the thick blanket draped over you offering much respite. It’s the first morning it hasn’t poured rain in days and you were determined to take full advantage of it despite the objections of your pack. 

“I know.” You finally say, staring out at the grey clouds looming on the horizon. The rain will return, just like the dark thoughts constantly swirling in your mind. They make you sick, nausea constantly churning in your stomach and threatening to rise. 

Johnny wraps his hand around yours, his palm warm against your cold skin. “Should head inside. Gonnae catch a cold.” 

“You know that’s a myth right?” You say, tilting your head to stare at him. 

“No it’s not.” He says, pulling your hand between his. “It’s not good for ye being out in the cold.” 

“I’ll live.” You say, trying to pull your hand from his, but he holds you firm. He’s stubborn, but so are you. 

“Kitten...” He says, almost whining at you. “Go inside please.” 

You let out a sigh, staring out at the horizon again. The clouds promise more rain soon, another downpour on its way. You hate it, how much it’s been raining. You just want to be outside, down at the beach, going on walks. Your pack won’t let you though, not while it’s raining, even though they often leave no matter the weather. 

It’s not fair. 

You’re not a fragile flower and you’re tired of being treated that way. Even though your brain feels like it’s in a blender constantly. Even though the pain of what happened still drives into you like a knife, you just want to be treated like a normal human being again. 

“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’ll go inside.” 

Johnny grabs your arm before you can head back in the door. “Ye know we just want the best for you.” 

You stare at him for a long moment, emotions swirling in your mind. They are trying. You’ll give them that credit. They’re trying, but not hard enough. “What you think is best and what’s actually best isn’t always the same.” 

He looks like a kicked puppy as he lets you go. You turn away before you can feel guilty, heading back inside the cottage. 

You pull the blanket tighter around you as you stare at the flickering flames in the hearth. The heat is intense so close, but it’s warming the chill under your skin. It’s getting colder at night, foretelling the upcoming winter. All the blankets in the world couldn’t fight off the chill that’s settled in you at night. You know what might help, but you’re not brave enough to approach that solution. 

The footsteps on the stairs don’t startle you in the otherwise silent house, the creak of them audible over the crackle of the logs in the fire. 

“I’d add another one.” A voice says from behind you. 

“I’m going to.” You say, reaching for the stack next to the fireplace. 

“Careful. Put it on the side.” 

“I know how to make a fire, thank you.” You snap, shoving the log in before moving it into place with the poker. “I’m not useless.” 

“Didn’t mean to imply you were.” It’s silent for a moment as you settle back into place. “What are you doing out here?” 

“I’m cold.” You answer simply, not feeling up to giving an entire expose on your current state of mind to the person you want to speak to the least right now. 

“We can turn the heat up more.” John says. “Whatever you want to be more comfortable.” 

I want you to leave. You bite your lip, suddenly not brave enough to say it out loud. 

They are trying. 

“Why are you down here?” You ask instead. 

“Couldn’t sleep so I came to get a snack.” He says. “You want anything?” 

“No.” You say quickly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. “I’m alright.” 

“You sure?” He presses, standing off to your right. 

You hesitate for a moment, curling your toes under the blanket as one of the logs snaps. It’s not food you need from him. Your appetite has decreased again with this new wave of horrible things plaguing your mind. “I want to know why,” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “why you left me there.” 

John shifts behind you, silent for a long moment. 

“I got too caught up in the big picture.” He finally says. “I thought that taking out Shepherd would end everything before it went too far. It’s the only way we’ll ever be safe, and I didn’t consider the lengths he’d go to, the lengths he’d let Graves go to, just to cover his own ass long enough for him to escape. I was wrong in making that decision. You’re not like us. You’ve never been left behind, tortured, had to fight your way out of an impossible situation. You shouldn’t have ever been put in that position. We all failed you. Every last one of us.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you stare into the fire. “You left me.” 

“I know.” He says, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.” 

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, your knuckles white where they’re gripping the edges of the blanket. The words are coming out and you can’t stop them. Maybe it’s because deep down you remember the better times, when he was a comfort. Someone you could trust to catch you when you fall. “I keep seeing them, seeing what I did, what happened. I killed people.” 

“People that would have killed you without a second thought.” He says. “You were defending yourself in a situation where that was unavoidable. It’s not your fault. None of it is.” 

“Can we ever move past this?” You ask, your voice quiet and broken.  

“I like to think we can.” John says. “It won’t be easy, but if that’s what you want, we sure as hell will work to make it happen. Things won’t go back to the way they were, and they shouldn’t. You deserve better than what we gave you.” 

You don’t respond because you can’t. His words float around in your mind, replaying over and over. You want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him, but a deep part of you can’t. He’s made promises before and then broke them. How can you trust this time will be different? 

The creak of the stairs wakes you. It’s jarring, pulling you out of a sleep you didn’t know you were in. You’re on the couch in the living room, bundled under a blanket with a decorative pillow under your head. You don’t remember moving to the couch. The fire is nothing more than embers now, but it feels warmer in the house. It’s dawn, the grey light streaming in through the window, chasing away the shadows of night. 

“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice asks you. 

You groan, rubbing your eyes. “Fell asleep.” 

“On the couch?” 

“Think I was on the floor first.” You yawn, pressing your face back into the pillow. “Don’t remember getting to the couch.” 

“Why?” 

“Got cold.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you pull the blanket up higher. 

Simon lets out a sigh before moving around the couch to the fireplace. He adds a couple logs in before lighting it again, the fire crackling back to life. You’re half asleep already as another blanket is draped over you, tucked up around your neck. There’s a feeling of a hand brushing over your head, but that may have just been your imagination as you drift off back to sleep. 

You don’t get to sleep long, more footsteps coming down the stairs waking you. A hand does brush over your head this time, the scent of the beach filling your nose. You let out a groan, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets. 

“Sleeping out here this morning?” Kyle’s soft voice reaches your ears. 

You grunt, chasing the quickly fading edges of sleep in your brain. 

“Breakfast is ready, if you want to get up.” 

You are hungry. There’s a quiet rumble of your stomach as you begin to register the smells coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs and coffee. Johnny is making the coffee most likely. Maybe you’ll have some this morning. You might need it with how groggy you feel. 

You stretch out on the couch, trying to breathe some life into your limbs. It’s not the most comfortable couch, definitely not for sleeping, but it’s better than the floor. It was likely John that moved you. He was the only one that knew you were out here last night. 

You're not sure how that makes you feel. 

It's nice on one hand, that he saved you from the pains of sleeping on the floor. But at the same time it feels like an intrusion. There was a time you wouldn't have thought twice about it. There was a time it would have been normal and expected and you would have thanked him for it. 

Now...now you're not sure. 

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking from being stuck in one position for so long. You blink slowly as you sit there for a moment. It’s warm in the house, almost too warm now with your body warmed from sleep. Dr. Keller is sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her. Tea, most likely. Maybe coffee. You’re not quite sure. She gives you a soft smile as you rub a hand across your face. 

You feel groggy as you push yourself up to stand, letting your stomach and feet guide you towards the smells coming from the kitchen. Kyle guides you to the table with a promise of making you a plate and you take your usual seat at the end of the table facing the kitchen. Dr. Keller is to your left this time, coffee in her mug judging by the smell. 

“How did you sleep?” She asks, her hands wrapped around the mug. 

“Fine. Got cold.” You say, resting your head in your hand.

“John turned the heat up a bit. We can get you more blankets if you need them.” Dr. Keller says. 

You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. You won’t complain about more blankets, more soft things to lay with. There is one thing you wish you had, though. You’re not quite sure how to ask for it, or that it would even be possible to get. 

You jump when a hand touches your back, not realizing you had even dozed off sitting there. 

“Sorry.” Kyle says, setting a plate on the table in front of you. “Food’s hot. You want coffee or tea.” 

“Coffee.” You say instantly, earning a wide grin from Johnny as he takes his own seat at the table. 

“Even split this morning.” He says cheekily, setting his own mug down. “Three against three.” 

“Tea is still the superior choice.” Kyle says from the kitchen. “Better for you anyway.” 

“Coffee has a lot of health benefits as well.” Dr. Keller says. “So long as you don’t add too much sugar into it.” 

“See.” Johnny says, giving them a victorious grin. 

“She said so long as you don’t put too much sugar in it.” Kyle says, carrying over your mug of coffee. “You’ll get diabetes from how much you add in.” 

“Two spoonfuls isnae too much.” He turns to look at Dr. Keller. “Is it?” 

Dr. Keller gives him a worried look. “You might be pushing it there.” 

Johnny’s grin turns into a pout. “What do ye mean?” 

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips as you quickly shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth. As much as the deep pain of betrayal still aches in your chest, as much as you still want to hate them, you have to admit you missed this. It’s the least tense you’ve seen all of them in the last few weeks. Even Dr. Keller’s shoulders don’t seem quite so squared as they have been. 

A part of you feels guilty about it. It is your fault deep down. You’re the one keeping them all on edge, driving that wedge between them over and over again. Deep down you’re the one causing the heavy weight that’s settled over the house. You wish you could just go back to normal, you wish you could just wave a wand and make yourself okay again. You wish you could ease their pain just a little bit. 

The eggs suddenly don’t taste quite so good anymore. 

You force them down regardless in favor of causing another scene, in favor of dragging the mood down. They deserve a little lighthearted moment after everything. They don’t need to know the inner turmoil plaguing your mind. 

Simon shifts next to you, his eyes darting to glance at your face. You can feel them, the intensity of his gaze just as sharp as it had been back in the beginning, back before he looked at you with fondness. He’s stiff as he sits there, almost as if he can sense the storm raging inside of you as you force yourself to pretend that you’re fine in favor of keeping the bright mood that’s settled over the table. 

Maybe he can sense it. He is an alpha after all. It’s his job to know, to understand. You glance across the table at John, his eyes on his phone as he sips his tea. 

Your gaze drops down to your plate as you pick up a piece of bacon, your heart shattering just a little bit more. 

“‘S too early.” You whine as hands pull the blanket off of you. Cold air nips at your skin, making you curl up in a ball. 

“It’s noon. Come on.” A hand closes around your arm, gently shaking you. “You want to get up.” 

You let out a whine, pinching your face up. “No.” 

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Kyle says, brushing the hair back from your face. 

“Why.” You say, letting out a huff. 

“We’re going on a little trip.” Kyle pulls you up, forcing you into a seated position. “Dress warm.” 

You’re alone in the room again, the door left open. Light streams in, making you squint against the harsh intrusion. A quick glance at the clock reveals it is, in fact, a little past noon. You took a nap to make up for a night of tumultuous sleep, one of the few things you have to do here in this prison. Nap and read. It’s a lot like your life before the cottage, before everything that happened, except now you’re stuck with your pack around you at all times. 

You almost miss the times they were away. 

You maneuver yourself so your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you try to blink the drowsiness away. The nap hadn’t been nearly long enough, but judging by Kyle’s eagerness, they let you sleep a bit longer than they wanted. 

You let out a sigh before pushing yourself off the bed, moving to the dresser. You pull out warm clothes, quickly changing. You have no idea what they have planned, what’s going on. There was no frantic rush, Kyle’s energy more excited than anything. It makes you a bit worried as you step out of the room into the living area. 

They’re all waiting by the door, watching you as you approach them, rubbing your eyes. 

“Come on,” John says, setting a pair of shoes on the floor. “Boots on.” 

“What are we doing?” You ask, moving forward automatically. 

“We’re taking a little trip.” Kyle answers. 

You look at him cautiously as you step into the boots, pulling them on. You haven’t been away from the cottage since you arrived two weeks ago. You’ve barely been let outside, weather permitting. It’s an overcast day today, the world grey outside, but grey is better than rain. 

“Ready?” John asks as you stare at him. 

“I guess.” You say, still a bit hesitant. 

They make no effort to ease your discomfort and nerves. 

You’re led out the door and towards the cars by Dr. Keller. Her face is brighter than it has been lately which doesn’t help your nervous energy. She’s excited too, just like the rest of them. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Maybe it’s the anxiety of leaving after being trapped inside for so long. You just want to know where you’re going, what it is you’re going to be doing. 

Dr. Keller ushers you into the back seat of one of the cars, getting in the other side. Kyle and John climb into the front while Johnny and Simon get into the other car. 

You watch the green pass by as they drive, taking in the new landscape. You don’t remember arriving at the cottage. You don’t remember most of the trip at all. It’s all a blur in your memory, much like the events that transpired after your omega took over had been. You wish you could remember the trip over those events. You’d take green rolling hills over your own hands taking lives. 

It had been jarring waking in the cottage for the first time. A new place, a lack of memories getting there. You’re beginning to get tired of the pattern. You half expect to fall asleep and wake up somewhere new again most nights. You wouldn’t know any better. A slip of a pill into some food and you’d wake up somewhere halfway across the world. 

You like to think they’d at least warn you beforehand. 

John pulls the car into a parking lot, parking near a line of trees. Johnny pulls into the parking lot behind John, parking near the entrance. It’s on purpose, you know that much. Everything is about safety and making things look as inconspicuous as possible. Anyone could be a rat. Anyone could be watching. 

It’s windier here as you step out of the car, even though you haven't gone far from the cottage. Walking distance, if you were up for a hike. You’re not. 

“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, guiding you through the parking lot and towards a path. 

You still don’t know what’s happening as you follow them, Johnny holding your hand as you step onto the rocky path. He leads the way, the others following. John is behind you, hovering in case you slip in the gravel. You do your best not to, despite how quickly Johnny is leading you. He’s more eager than Kyle had been, and you’re sure he’d be running if you could keep up. 

You begin to figure out what’s happening as the sound of waves crashing on the shore gets louder and louder. Your chest starts to constrict with emotion as the trees start to get sparser and sparser, a cliff edge visible over Johnny’s shoulder. You want to run now, you want to break ahead and race your way to the edge of the cliff. Johnny, even in his excited state, would catch you before you could take off and potentially hurt yourself. 

You might hurt yourself just trying to run. 

You hate it. 

The land opens before you as you reach the edge of the cliff. The expanse of the sea seems daunting so close, grey and choppy from the wind. Salty air blasts you in the face, rustling your jacket as you stand there above a small beach. It’s empty, but that’s expected for the middle of fall. All the tourists have gone home, those with vacation homes back in better weather for the winter. 

You’re glad you’re alone. You wouldn’t want anyone else ruining this moment. 

Kyle’s fingers wrap around yours as you stand there, staring down at the beach below. “Come on.” 

The gravel turns to dirt as it winds down the side of the cliff, getting steeper as you near the beach. You do nearly slip as you follow Johnny down to the sand, your boots quickly getting muddy. You’re glad for them, understanding why John chose boots over more comfortable shoes. 

You pause as your feet sink into sand. You stare out at the water, at the white crests of waves crashing onto the shore. It’s real. It’s not just some mirage, some painting in the background of your life. It’s really here. You’re really here. 

No one says anything as you take a few steps forward before squatting down. You scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through your fingers. It’s coarse against your cold skin, thicker and rockier than the sand you’re used to, but it’s still sand. It’s still a beach. 

You’re at the beach. 

You scoop up another handful of sand, letting it run through your fingers again. You want to put some of it in a jar and set it on the nightstand at the cottage. You want to stare at it and remind yourself you’re really at the coast, you’re really just a short drive away from the sea. You want the sand to sink into your skin and flow through your veins and fill every crack that’s formed in your mind.  

You’re really here. 

You stand up straight, staring out at the water again. Your pack is still behind you, silently watching you. You shuffle forward a couple steps, waiting for one of them to stop you, to grab you and keep you from getting closer, but none of them move. You widen your steps, treading through the soft sand until you reach the edge of the wetter sand where the water was earlier. It’s easier to walk on as you continue to approach the water, the sound of your pack treading through the soft sand disappearing behind you as you get closer and closer to the water. The waves flow up the beach, your feet getting closer and closer to where that water stops. 

You half expect them to stop you as you step forward, letting the waves hit your feet. The salty water washes away the mud and sand clinging to your rubber boots, rushing up over the tops of your feet. You stare down at the water, watching it surge upward and around your ankles. You’d keep walking if you were brave enough, let it get higher and higher until it soaked your clothes, but you know they’d stop you. It’s far too cold to risk getting wet. You can feel the chill of the water through your boots as it flows over your feet. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there, watching the water rush back and forth, feeling the pressure of it against your boots as you stand in the waves. You’re really here. You’re really standing in the sea. 

You finally turn after what seems like an eternity, making your way back up to the softer sand. All of them are standing in a line, watching you. You wonder what’s going through their heads, what they feel standing here. Relief? Happiness? Guilt? Shame? The wind whips at your back, coming right off the water, blowing their scents away from you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to smell them right now. 

Tears burn your eyes as you make your way up towards John, trudging through the sand. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold wind, his beard longer than you’ve ever seen it. You don’t remember the last time you’ve really looked at him up close. His gaze is uncertain as he stares down at you, trying to gauge your next move. He can’t. You know he can’t and it makes you feel powerful. 

It shouldn’t, but it does. 

“Thank you.” You say finally, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Thank you.” 

You can hear them. They don’t know it, but you can. They think they’re speaking quietly, but in the silence of the morning, you can hear almost every word. Dr. Keller’s protests, John's quiet insistence. 

Leaving. 

That’s the word that caught your attention. Leaving. Someone is leaving. Someone is separating themselves from the pack again, and not just for a trip to town to go to the store. This meaning is different, it hangs differently in the air. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” Dr. Keller says, her voice just barely audible through the open sliding glass door. It’s open just a crack, just enough to hear what’s transpiring inside. 

“We won’t have another chance.” John says, his voice insistent. “We have to do this. She deserves it.” 

She. You. Whatever it is, it involves you. It always does. You can’t remember a time over the last few weeks when it hasn’t been about you. It’s always about you and you hate it. You almost wish things would go back to the way they were before, when you were a second thought, the one left behind.

You’re going to be left behind again. 

“John-” 

“I know.” John’s voice is louder again. “We have to do what’s best for our pack, and right now this is it.” 

The sliding door opens, the conversation over. Your stomach is churning, nausea eating its way up your esophagus as John crosses the deck towards where you’re seated. His steps are slow and quiet, almost like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might be, depending on how this conversation is going to go. 

How are you going to react? You expected it eventually. They’ll always leave, they’ll always put you last and think about themselves first. Are you upset? Are you angry? Is it a relief? 

You wish you could feel something right now. Instead you feel numb. Another promise broken, another lie told. 

“You’re leaving again.” You say, staring out at the horizon as John takes a seat next to you. You need to get it out first, say what you know before he can say it and break your heart again. 

He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in the chair. “We are, but you’re coming with us.” 

You turn to glance at him, taken aback by his words. You’re leaving too? You hadn’t considered this. The cottage is your prison. You are Rapunzel trapped by the Mother Gothel that is your pack, stuck in the tower for the rest of time. 

Leaving? 

“There’s something we need to take care of back in the states.” John explains. “You’re coming with us.” 

Back in the states? What could possibly be there that is left for you, for your pack? 

You don’t like the sound of that. You don’t like the sound of that one bit. 

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[andhumanslovedstories]

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I have a request for you!

So I was just thinking how if yuji maybe had a crush on someone and didn’t really know who to ask for advice since nobara would straight up laugh at him, and megumi wouldn’t really care. He knows the reader and Nanami are happily married so he decided to ask him for advice on how to ask the girl out!

This is the cutest thing ever, had to write that asap

Yuji asking Kento Nanami and his wife for relationship advice

Pairing: husband!Nanami x reader; Yuji x reader in a mother/son kinda way

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: If there's one couple that comes to his mind when he thinks about relationships, it has to be you and Nanami-sensei. Who else to ask for relationship advice if not you and him, then?

Warnings: this is pure fluff with a tint of comedy y'all, I'm in love with the Yuji and Nanami content, just a little happiness to brighten your day hehe

Yuji Itadori wanders the halls of Jujutsu High with a slight blush dusting his cheeks. He’s been doing everything he can to pretend everything is normal, but the fact is, he’s got something weighing on him - and it’s not cursed spirits for once. He’s been distracted during training, missing cues and slipping up in ways that aren’t like him. Megumi and Nobara have noticed, but his usual grin deflects their concern. What they don’t know is that there’s a girl he can’t stop thinking about, and Yuji doesn’t know a damn thing about what to do about it.

Which is how he finds himself searching for someone to give him advice - someone who’ll listen without teasing or judgment. He’s crossed Nobara off the list right away, imagining her hysterical laughter that would probably echo through the halls. Megumi was next, but he knew his friend would just shrug and say he didn’t know much about dating either. It isn’t until later that Yuji remembers someone he admires, someone who actually knows about relationships.

But how is he supposed to talk to you?

His footsteps quicken as he makes his way toward Nanami’s office. He knocks twice, then stands there awkwardly without waiting for a reply.

“Come in- Oh, there you are.”

Yuji pushes open the door to find not just Nanami sitting at his desk, but you, his wife, by his side. His heartbeat quickens in an instant. Normally, you don’t spend much time here at Jujutsu High – just like Nanami-sensei himself. It has to mean something that you’re here today when he was just thinking about you, right? Maybe this is the best chance he’ll get in his search for answers.

The two of you have become something of a constant for Yuji, the calm among the chaos that surrounds Jujutsu High. He’s seen the way Nanami looks at you, the subtle way his hand will brush against yours, or the soft look that crosses his face when you laugh. Yuji’s always admired it, but he’s never really thought about it being something he’d want too - until recently.

“Oh, Yuji,” you greet him warmly, your smile immediately easing some of the tension in his chest.

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh! Yeah!”

He shuffles from one foot to the other, trying to work out the right way to say this. Damn, this is even more awkward than he thought.

“I was, um, actually hoping to get some advice? Like… relationship advice?”

He glances at Nanami, who’s watching him with his usual steady gaze, then looks back at you, unsure how to continue.

You exchange a look with your husband before patting the chair next to you, gesturing for Yuji to take a seat with a bright smile and a slight blush creeping up your oh so gorgeous face. No wonder even Nanami-sensei fell head over heels for you.

“Of course, Yuji,” you reply, and there’s a softness in your voice that makes him feel like it’s okay to ask for help.

“What’s going on?”

Yuji sinks into the chair, cheeks still tinged pink as he starts to fidget with his fingers. There’s no turning back now.

“There’s this girl. She’s… she’s really nice and funny and strong, and she’s got this great smile and I, uh…”

He takes a breath, unsure how to continue without sounding like an idiot.

“I think I like her. I just don’t know how to… you know, tell her.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly listening but keeping quiet, letting you take the lead. He never thought that someone like Yuji would ask him for advice in something apart from sorcery. But on the other hand…

Nanami’s gaze drifts over you, your warm and welcoming features, how you take in every little thing Yuji says with those little reassuring nods. If there’s someone who’s able to help Yuji, it has to be you. After all, you were the first woman in his life that swept him off his feet.

You smile, leaning forward a little in order to make Yuji feel more comfortable.

“That’s exciting, Yuji. I’m glad you’re thinking about it, even if it feels a little intimidating. Do you know if she might feel the same way?”

Yuji shrugs, grinning sheepishly.

“I have no idea. I think we get along, but I don’t want to make things weird, you know?”

“Understandable,” Nanami throws in, voice calm and composed.

“Rushing into something like this can make things awkward, especially if you don’t fully understand how she feels. But it’s also not wrong to want to make your intentions clear if you truly like her.”

You nod in agreement, a little surprised by the way your usually so quiet husband now took the lead to give his student relationship advice.

“Exactly. Sometimes, a small step can give you some clarity on how she feels too. You don’t have to go all in at once.”

Yuji looks at you both thoughtfully, clearly absorbing every word.

“But how? Like, I don’t know what to say to her. Should I… compliment her or something?”

You chuckle softly, trying to keep your tone light so he doesn’t feel embarrassed.

“Well, a genuine compliment never hurts. But maybe instead of going straight for it, just try spending a little more time with her first. Get a sense of her interests, things she’s passionate about. You’re naturally friendly, Yuji, so use that to your advantage.”

Yuji’s eyes widen, like a lightbulb just went off in his head.

“That… actually makes sense! If I ask her about stuff she likes, then maybe she’ll see I’m interested, right?”

“Exactly,” you reply, smiling at his enthusiasm.

“And if she responds positively, you can build up to saying something more direct. Just be yourself - that’s probably what she likes about you anyway.”

He nods, almost bouncing with excitement, but then his face falls slightly, concern creeping back in.

“But what if she�� doesn’t like me like that?”

Nanami speaks up again, his voice even but warm.

“Rejection is a part of life, Yuji. If it happens, it doesn’t weaken your worth. It just means she’s not ready or interested, and that’s okay. You’ll still be the same person with the same good qualities.”

You reach out, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, a sudden wave of pride rushing over you. When you first met Kento, everyone around you kept telling you that it’ll never work out, that he’ll never feel the same way about you, that he’s cold as ice. But especially moments like this show you more than urgently what a kind heart your husband truly has and why you fell in love with him straight away.  

“And remember, we’re here for you no matter what. But you might be surprised - she may already be hoping you’d say something.”

Yuji takes a deep breath, letting your words sink in. The blush on his cheeks deepens, but there’s a new determination in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, more to himself than to either of you.

“I think… I think I can do this. I’ll try to talk to her more, see what she likes, and maybe, if it feels right, I’ll tell her.”

Both you and Nanami nod, clearly proud of him.

“Good,” you response, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“And let us know how it goes.”

Yuji grins, his usual spark returning to his face as he stands up, looking more energized than he has in days.

“Thanks, you guys. Really. This… this means a lot to me.”

With that, he heads out of the office, leaving you and Nanami exchanging a fond look. There’s something special about watching Yuji grow, about seeing him cope with feelings as regular as a high school crush even amidst the chaos of jujutsu life.

After he leaves, you let out a soft sigh.

“It’s so nice to see him think about something other than fighting for a change.”

Nanami chuckles.

“Yes. Though, if he’s anything like you were when we met, I imagine he’ll be quite charming in his attempts.”

You laugh, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“And if he’s anything like you, he’ll be both charming and a bit stubborn. But I think he’ll figure it out. He’s got a good heart.”

Bonus:

Days later, Yuji catches you in the hallway, an excited smile breaking across his face as he rushes over to you.

“Hey! I… I tried what you said,” he shouts, his eyes bright.

“Oh?”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

“How did it go?”

“She actually seemed really interested! We talked about some of her favorite movies, and I told her about my favorite songs, and it just… it felt natural, you know?”

He rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly.

“And then, before I could overthink it, I just kind of… told her I liked her. And… she said she liked me too!”

Your face lights up with pride and warmth, feeling a surge of happiness for him.

“Yuji, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

He laughs, a sound full of relief.

“Thank you. I mean, I couldn’t have done it without your help. I was so nervous, but you guys helped me feel like it was okay to just go for it. Now… now I feel like I can face anything!”

“Not that you couldn’t already,” you reply with a grin, giving his shoulder a congratulatory squeeze.

“You’re braver than you think, Yuji. Just remember, relationships are like fighting in their own way. It takes work and patience, but it’s worth it.”

“I’ll remember that,” he promises, his gaze filled with determination.

And as he heads off down the hall, you’re left with a smile on your face, proud of the young man who continues to grow not just as a sorcerer, but as a person.

A voice brings you out of your thoughts - Nanami, who’s been standing nearby, watching the exchange with a slight smile.

“You have a way with these kids,” he says, his voice gentle.

You turn to him, warmth filling your chest as you take his hand.

“Only because I’ve had a good example to follow.”

He squeezes your hand, his gaze softening as he looks down at you.

“I’d say you’re a natural. And who knows,” he adds with a rare hint of humor, “maybe Yuji’s just opened up the floodgates. We might find ourselves with more ‘romantic advice’ consultations soon.”

You chuckle, leaning into him.

“I think I’d be okay with that. These kids face so much danger. They deserve a little happiness too.”

With a fond smile, Nanami nods, and you both watch as Yuji disappears down the hall, excitement carrying him forward into this new chapter of his life. And for just a moment, everything feels peaceful, like you’re all part of something beautiful in the middle of the storm.

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[purinfelix]

you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto

summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900

a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏

Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.

You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.

It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.

You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.

All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.

"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.

"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.

"Hi," you say, almost shyly.

"Hi baby, how are you?"

"Good," you pause, "stressed."

He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"

"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"

"Nervous, of course."

"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.

"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."

You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."

This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."

You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."

Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.

"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.

"What do you mean?"

"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."

"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."

"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.

"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.

"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.

And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ

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

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

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

ꨄ words: 10.5k

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

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎

ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too late,” he whispers back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”

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

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

“How do I look?” you pose playfully.

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

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

“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru clears his throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”

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

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

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

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

“Okay, got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.

Haru barely spares a second glance.

“Nope! The stem is too small.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haru’s face lights up with pride.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re impossible…” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Haru.

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

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

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

“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”

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

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

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

“Promise ‘toru?”

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

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

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

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

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

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recognition.

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

No such luck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just us, huh?” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”

ꨄ︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now, that’s all that matters.

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

taglist:

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

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

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

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

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

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

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

@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

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

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

[great-now-im-confused]

Look shit is going to get bad. It's always going to get bad. But with that it means it'll get better too. What's good and bad is different for everyone. Many things that are bad for you know might stay that way. But many of them will also progress and change and actually get better. Beyond that thought, if you stay and you fight, you will get better. Maybe it is your family that'll always be crazy, maybe the political world will be beyond bleak for the foreseeable future, but if you stay you'll be able to see the things that will improve and will be good. I know so many of us have so much on our plates right now and the results of yesterday and dreadful. But please stay. I promise it'll be worth it.

Sure everything you hope for might not happen but you'll never get to know the things that WILL if you stay. I know the point of this post is mostly to address the dread many of us feel after the election. And I fully get it trust me I do. But as someone who has made that choice before and I am so grateful it didn't work for me to be able to still be here I want to share a few things.

"it gets better" is both right and wrong in my opinion. Yes sometimes the things that have you down so bad that you walk that path can absolutely get better. Sometimes they don't though and while that sucks it's okay. Because as I said before, YOU get better. (Not to run into "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" stuff because I get it, why do we have to be strong) You grow, you learn, you change. And with that growth and change your state of mind often changes too. Admittedly my life isn't too different from when I reached that point, but it's also so much better in so many ways. I'll use my family for an example. My family is so chaotic it's overwhelming and that hasn't changed, what has changed though is my ability to cope with it. I am still the one everyone runs to to fix problems. I still try to fix those problems more than I probably should, but I have started to learn to say no and to put up boundaries with them. So while yes it hasn't changed for the most part the growth I've had within myself has allowed me some space from all the chaos and it's truly helped me.

Then there's things like medication and therapy that's has helped immensely along the way. And I fully understand that not everyone has the same access to things I have been lucky enough to have along the way as the journey is different for everyone. And especially given the outcome of yesterday those things may become even harder to obtain for others. But I will say I also thought a lot of those things were out of my reach and I started asking the right questions and made it a little father (again this won't be true for everyone but hopefully will be able to at least a few)

I reached a standstill with progressing in my career because I didn't know what to do next. One day I got super lucky and met a new person who gave me so much guidance (more than I think they know) and it reignited my passion for my goals (again I know I am super lucky to find myself in that situation). My point with that is we have to be able to reach each other because you never know who you can help (with something that may be simple to you) and who can help you. You don't get to experience that if you're gone.

I'm not trying to get into my whole story or journey but I'm trying to share enough that it makes sense and is understood when I say I know what it feels like to be that low and I know what it feels like to overcome it. So please trust me on that.

I know things are scary right now. So much is uncertain and on the line. But you won't fix it by overly stressing about it and you won't fix anything is you don't stay. Times are going to get challenging and it's going to get hard and rough, but we will always be able to do something about it, especially together. So I can't help you if I leave and you can't help me if you go.

So take some time to process you frustration, your grief, and your fears. Then when you're ready take a deep breath and be prepared. Be prepared to take action. Figure out what is most important to you that you fear will change with the coming times. It could be your number 1 thing it could be a top 3-10 depending on what you have the energy for. And. Then start to learn. What can you do to help, what can you do to make a change, how can you make a difference. Then make a plan. When we all taken action things will start to be okay again.

But we can't inform each other if we're not here. We can't help if we're not here. Like OP said times have been bad before throughout history and humans have survived and we'll survive this. If you need a reminder and it won't mess you up too much look into the things people have preserved through (try not to focus too much on those tragically lost to those times because that won't help in this situation)

I know this is long and has gone all over the place but I needed to get this out because it's just part of everything swirling in my mind lately. So, sorry is it's a little hard to understand my points, if you'd like to reach out to discuss any of it with me if gladly try to be more clear on some of it I just was trying to not fully take over OP's post with my response (which I know I more than likely have by now, SORRY OP) this post just resonated with me and everything started flowing. So please just stay even if it means me typing all of this out was worth it and because you are worth it and we will work together to make it better

I hope none of you disappear in the coming days. Seriously don't do anything that can't be undone.

[thatdisasterauthor]

@teagantheamazing Hope you don't mind, but I wanted to pull this reply out to talk about a little more in depth, because I think it is important that people understand this as we move forward.

Also, I am speaking as a private citizen here, not as an employee of the Forest Service.

In the United States, wildland fire response is handled at three basic levels: Federal, State, and Local.

Federally, it is further broken down into the Bureau of Land Management and the Forest Service. (Some parks have their own fire crews as well, but that varies from park to park, and they're usually still technically Forest Service.) There's really not a ton of difference between the two aside from whose name is on your paycheck. Pay is the same across each, structure is the same across each, training is the same across each. Federal crews and resources are, generally, the main and biggest responders to wildfires because wildfires tend to happen primarily on federal lands.

At the state and local level things vary a lot from state to state. You can have things like the Colorado Division of Fire Prevention and Control in Colorado and Cal Fire in California, and you can have local structure departments that also have wildland divisions and/or training. Some of the local departments will be volunteer. State and local responders also work closely with federal responders, but how much and for how long varies from fire to fire.

Then, on top of all of that, you have private/contract crews. They are what it says on the tin: private crews of firefighters. Some of these crews are great! Very professional, very skilled. Others are...ah...not.

Now, what I am concerned about specifically as we head into this new administration is what is going to happen at the federal level. As I mentioned in the original post, the Forest Service is already struggling. It has ALWAYS been struggling. Without giving you a whole huge history lesson, the Forest Service was founded in the early 1900s by Teddy Roosevelt to protect public lands and preserve them for future use. People threw a FIT about it, specifically people who wanted to basically strip mine the forests for every single available resource. Taft was elected after Roosevelt and basically started undoing everything his predecessor had done. The budget for the Forest Service was destroyed, protections were rolled back. The only reason the Forest Service survived was because in 1910 there was a MASSIVE fire. It was, at the time, unprecedented and the Forest Service was able to use it to lobby for better funding going forward. But the same cycle has repeated ever since. An administration that doesn't value conservation will come in, shred the budget, there will be deadly consequences that make the next administration pad the budget some, and then it will start again.

It's a lot like people who stop taking their medicine because they think they're cured since they feel better, but they only feel better because they were taking their medicine.

So what happens now? Well, it's already happening and it happened under Biden, and will only get worse under Trump. To keep it simple, there are two kinds of federal employment: seasonal, and year-round. Most of the federal Forest Service jobs are seasonal, because the work is seasonal. This includes firefighters, but it also includes things like park rangers and trail maintenance crews. From late spring to early fall there are tooooons of people working. Then, the rest of the year, its a skeleton crew of year-rounders doing mostly maintenance work, controlled burns, paperwork, stuff like that.

Now, with all of that said, here is where we stand at this specific moment: the decision has already been made that the Forest Service will not be hiring seasonal workers outside of firefighting next year. This means no seasonal park rangers, no seasonal maintenance people, none of that. This means next year parks are going to be a MESS. Bathrooms will not be cleaned regularly, campgrounds will not be maintained, trails will not be maintained, and a ton of other stuff. The year-rounder skeleton crew will be all we've got. And, crucially, there will be less professionals monitoring the woods looking for new fires. Rangers, even ones not working directly on fire stuff, are a crucial level of protection for spotting and reporting fires.

Secondary to that is the pay issue. Even if you're a year-rounder, the pay is abysmal. Your average out the gate, newbie wildland firefighter is going to make around $17/hr base pay if they work for a federal agency. Now, there's a ton of random stuff that can bump that pay up even without the retention bonus we're currently getting. You get a night differential and a Sunday differential for starters, and hazard pay when you are actively working a fire, plus there's ALWAYS overtime, sometimes an insane amount of it. Then there's per diem if you are traveling for a fire, and that can be a nice little bump too. But the point/problem is that the pay is VERY unpredictable. You can have a massively busy season and be swimming in money, or you can have a slow as fuck season and end up scrapping by because the base pay isn't enough. The Wildland Firefighter Paycheck Protection Act is supposed to fix this by bumping up the base pay, but that can has been kicked back and forth in the government for yeeeears now.

Now, as you mentioned, people CAN transfer their federal qualifications for fire to state and private crews. It generally pays better if you do. But we do not want to privatize fire response. Given the size of this country, given the spread of the population within it, we have to have a federal firefighting force. Leaving it to the states and private companies will not be enough.

That is where we are starting the new administration: abysmal pay, failing departments, and slimmed back hiring. Given Trump's repeated insistence on slimming down the government, on withholding aid in blue states, on getting rid of things like the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (which is also crucial for firefighting), and other things in that vein, I think we are staring down the barrel of a very, very dangerous time.

So, some action items if you want to help:

Call your local representatives and insist they pass the Wildland Firefighter Protection Act NOW, before the new administration comes in. The new administration could still screw it up, but we've gotta at least try.

Be patient and understanding with Park Rangers in the coming years. They are doing their best with what they've got.

Take responsibility for your use of public lands. Clean up after yourself, pick up litter when you see it, and donate if there is a way for you to do so.

Educate yourself and your community on wildland fire even if you don't think you are in a wildland fire prone area. Learn about and implement defensible space around your homes and communities. I'll be doing a lot of education around this going forward, so if you have questions or want help please ask me!

[munsonsmixtapes]

You'll Fit Right In

shy!eddie x fem!reader

summary: Eddie is super nervous to meet your parents, but it turns out he has nothing to worry about as they have the exact same interests that he does

cw: Eddie has anxiety

this is a request made by @bellasm3lla in a comment on this post

You and Eddie stand on the porch of your childhood home and you can see that he's panicking. This dinner has been planned for weeks now and he's super nervous to meet your parents. Adults aside from Wayne don't seem to like him because he plays DnD and they all seem to think he's some sort of devil incarnate even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

Eddie is nothing but sweet and kind and you really hoped other people were able to see that instead of listening to silly rumors. You've always seen him for who he is and know that your parents will love him.

You've tried to tell him that they're nothing but chill, but you totally understand why he's so anxious. You've tried multiple times to give him an out, but he wouldn't take it. He just told you that he could handle it and that he wanted to at least try before he gave up.

So you're knocking on the door as he's holding onto your other hand for dear life as he rests his chin on your shoulder, inching his face towards your neck to hide as the door opens.

But as soon as it opens, his ears pick on some music playing at a loud volume. He immediately recognizes the song as Gypsy by Dio. And that's when he pulls away from you just in time to see your mom's Metallica t-shirt. Now he suddenly doesn't know why he was so nervous.

Your mom is quick to pull him into a hug and he's quick to respond, squeezing her just as tight before she pulls away, a bright smile on her face.

"Oh, it's so lovely to meet you," she gushes as she pulls him into the house, you and your dad following.

"Sorry we're late, we were cleaning up our DnD session we had earlier," your dad apologizes and Eddie's head whips around to you, silently asking you why you hadn't told him about any of that. All you had said was that they were cool. But you had told him exactly what they were into and he would just tune you out because he had convinced himself that he hadn't wanted to hear it.

"You guys play DnD?" He asks, suddenly feeling all of his nerves melt away as your mom leads him into the living room where everything from their session was still set up.

"Every week. Do you play?" Does he play? Your dad might as well have asked him if he breathed.

"I do," Eddie nods. "I'm actually the DM of my own club."

"I knew I had a good feeling about you," your mom pinches his cheek. "Can I get you a drink, Eddie? We've got some beers in the fridge."

"Sure," Eddie nods and your parents get your drink order before they both disappear into the kitchen, leaving you and Eddie alone.

He leans over to you and you give him a knowing smile as you know exactly what he's going to say.

"You didn't tell me that your parents were so cool," he whispers and you just giggle in response.

"I actually did, but you wouldn't listen to me." Eddie just waves you off as your parents as your parents enter the living room once again with your drinks and all Eddie can think about it just how he's going to fit in there and that he really was nervous for no reason. Because there, he feels right at home.

[8housevenus]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ placements that feel like a fairytale ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

🧚pisces venus - "i've walked with you once upon a dream," such an exceptional place for venus and a very good lover. thoughtful and remembers little things about somebody. gives even when they have nothing. venus is exalted here, which strengthens the power of venus. rosed-colored glasses, natural lovers. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚neptune in 1st/2nd/7th/9th - 1st/ dreamy appearance, "i wish i could look like you," "i don't know if i wanna be you or be with you," wins people over, sometimes unaware of their influence, stands out in a room full of people. 2nd/ "you sound so sweet," delicate voices, gives the best compliments or receives unique compliments, gets money for no reason or gives money for no reason, very questionable kind of person but it is a likable feature about them. 7th/ unpredictable in love, "tag you're it," loves the chase and the longevity of a new/fresh relationship. people wish they could be with you or have had dreams/thoughts of pursuing you. sometimes people might drop many hints but never say. 9th/ super underrated, people feel elevated in your energy, you bring out a new lens to others, your ability to change and only get better overtime seems super unreal. the type to go mia and then randomly appear in a fancy italian restaurant with 1 million dollars and a rich spouse. they think it and it is, very big planners and attractive to the outside. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚sun in 5th/7th - 5th/ their love is their passion, and their self-expression is one that is bold and unique. this is your "entertainer," placement, understands the role they play in this life. courageous in their love and give an experience that one will never have again. 7th/ people-person, revolves around being open-minded and naturally attracting friends, partners, and even some enemies. a very commendable individual. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚libra/taurus rising - the symbols of beauty and allurance. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚cancer sun - exudes a tender warmth to others. "wifey material, mom friend, therapist," has probably heard it all. cancer sun has seen the vulnerability of everybody they have met, there's a strong trust here and their strength is undeniable. think of fairy godmother. has an emotional depth that allows others to easily fall for them. double points if it is a man with a cancer sun; women will admire this difference about you from other men. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚libra moon - pretty when you cry, everyone stops to hear you talk, such a mediating and magnetic energy, wears their heart on their sleeve and can empathize very well with others they have nothing in common with. all about fairness and equity, wants to be the peacekeeper in most situations. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚venus in 11th/2nd/7th - 11h/ friends will admire you and pick up on your aesthetic and can even try to "become" the same way. you make people feel really good and you are inspiring. 2nd/ you are well kept and seem orderly. soft voice, soft appearance, and loves to smother themselves and others with little gestures. 7th/ ideal partner placement, looking for love in everything they do, has very good connections and dazzles their flirt onto everybody they meet. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚personal planets in 4, 7, 12, 16, 19, 24, 27 degrees - these are libra, cancer, and pisces degrees, can amplify these placements by sprinkling on some of these signs qualities. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚neptune conjunct/ trine sun - dreamy-esque, can't keep you off my mind, is it love is it lust? naturally charming and independent. knows how they make others feel, giving others a sense of hope that makes them cling on forever. usually, the favorite boy or girl for somebody. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚venus conjunct moon/neptune - awareness to what relationships might require, or what other people want out of you. knows how to express themselves properly, can be sweet/seductive one minute, then manipulative/moody the next. likes to change up their style for their partner; very intimate and puts their partner's needs first. will be super feminine for their loved one. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚midheaven conjunt/trine/sextile neptune or venus - enhanced beauty in the public eye. people want to be around you and there's maybe some type of distance between you and your lovers- which makes relationships so much more intriguing. "i've got my eye on you." these people love makeup, jewelry, skin care, anything to appear ideal. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚virgo midheaven - seen as a damsel in distress sometimes; but they are elegant and reserved. they are the ones that people usually rely on and open up to the fastest. their fairytale qualities come from how they act rather than how they speak. they will make sure you are covered and will attract you with their practicality and realness. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚virgo venus - has a purified perception of love, very service oriented and even shy. they are slow and steady in terms of love language, however a virgo venus will always make sure their partner only gets the best. they want to make everything perfect for their significant other, which makes the virgo venus placement seem so admirable. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚cancer venus - soft, sweet, and giving. full of the feminine and embodies the nurturer archetype. magnetic to the opposite sex; babe magnet, and usually wear pastel colors or colors that are bright. they don't like to make themselves unknown to the idea of love. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚moon/neptune in 5th - has such a childlike approach to the world, very full of nostalgia and is deep-rooted in being memorable for others. oftentimes moon in 5th has a dramatized identity about themselves, which gives the fairytale vibes because it can feel almost surreal. neptune can also have this affect, neptune 5th might always get "i wish you were here," or "where's so and so," very memorable and such sweet and delicate impressions to the public. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

🧚sun in 9th - would take their partners through all kinds of experiences, the kind of people to take you higher and change your mind-set on various subjects. very underrated placement and i find it quite fairy-tale like due to the fact that there's always some form of expansion for these individuals and you can see and feel their inner glow when they are in new environments. usually, can have foreigners or various kinds of people fall for them, they quite literally shine in new horizons. 🌷 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

thank you for reading <3

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: Your future spouse's first impression of you

Hello and welcome to this new post of mine! I will give you a reading where I give you a reading on your future spouse's first impression of you. I hope you guys enjoy and find this interesting.

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Subliminal Channel

~pick a card~

Pile 1:

The first thing your future spouse will do, what may not be seen as something positive for a few of you, is comparing you to the people they’ve had around them and the people they still have around them. Not in a way in which they figure what part is better and what part is worse, but in a way of recognizing how different you are from all the people they’ve known and communicated with before.

They immediately notice how you try to make people around you feel better. How you care for your friends when they are hurt, how you care about the feelings of others and take things that went unjust for the people around you serious. They’ll perceive you as a sensual and kind person, a loving person with a kind and caring heart. Someone who loves to make friends and care for them. This might be done by listening to their troubles, making them food or doing little tasks they might find difficult, boosting their confidence when they need to.

Pile 2:

The first time they see you they will perceive you as curious, as someone who likes to observe and take things in without intervening. Someone who likes to keep track of everything that is going on around them without having people pay much attention to you. Because of this, they’ll gain the same curiosity towards you.

They’ll find it hard to read you, to find out what kind of person you are. To them you might be mysterious in such a way it might make them anxious, but that emotion makes it possible for you two to get closer to one another and quickly find out what is going on behind your eyes, in your thoughts.

Once that barrier of lack of understanding and secrets is broken, that attraction and wish to understand you won’t leave, ever. They’ll continue to find you interesting, amusing, intelligent, addicting. They’ll cherish you for the unique person you are, the person they fell for the first time they saw you, for the first impression they got from you.

Pile 3:

The first thing your future spouse notices when they watch you from afar or when in your presence, would be your strong sense of personality. You have this aura and personality they notice, a strong sense of justice and loyalty. You can be dominant in your way of speaking whenever you feel like you need to, whenever you try to make a point, whenever people don’t take you seriously or don’t listen to you.

You can stand up for yourself, you are independent and can fend for yourself. Those personality traits belong to a strong person, a person who knows their worth. For some of you guys getting to the point of standing up for yourself might still be difficult, but your future spouse will see and know you have it in you, and they can’t wait to see it, to have it used towards them even.

They want to be taken seriously and have a good way of communicating in a relationship. Something they believe would be possible to createcwith you the first time they meet you. They love a person who is clear with their wishes, with their wants and dreams, with their emotions and thoughts.

[deadpresidents]

I just hope these next 4 years go by fast

This election isn't just about the next four years. With Trump in the White House and a Republican Senate at his side, the MAGA movement can pick up where they left off when it comes to packing the federal judiciary with right-wing judges who will control the Supreme Court and appellate courts throughout the country potentially for the rest of the lives of everyone reading this right now. It's the perfect recipe for them to continue stripping reproductive rights away from women nationwide and gives them the opportunity to turn their attention to the other issues that they have been dying to attack, from voting rights to gay marriage and every other extension of personal freedom that has been won by minorities and marginalized people in hard-fought battles over the past 60 years. This is the nightmare scenario that people have been warning folks about for the past few elections. It's here. And there isn't going to be a way to put the toothpaste back in the tube.

The consequences of this election will have a direct, negative impact on your life -- possibly on the entire remainder of your life. This country just re-elected a President with authoritarian tendencies who is the willing puppet of a dangerous Christian nationalist movement that figured out exactly how to manipulate him (through flattery) for their aims. They have created the perfect vehicle for a genuine cult of personality that they can use to achieve the goals they have been very clear about striving for over the past few years. And you can't blame anybody other than the American voters because they not only elected Trump, but they gave him a fucking mandate, with a Republican Senate and potentially a Republican House. They already have a right-wing dominated Supreme Court for the next few decades, and now they are going to ensure that the entire federal judiciary is in their control for years to come. And don't forget the fact that a few months ago, the Supreme Court handed down a decision that gave Presidents sweeping immunity for a broad (and conveniently undefined) range of "official" acts, so Trump is going to go into this second term knowing that not only does he not have to deal with the "guardrails" of responsible adults he had around him in his first term (Mattis, Tillerson, Kelly, General Milley, etc), but he knows he can get away with virtually anything and everything that he wants to do this time around. If you thought that Trump's first term was bad, just understand that they are prepared this time and now he's surrounded himself with people who will do his bidding -- people who are perfectly willing to let Trump be Donald Trump.

I wish there was a reason to cry foul, lodge protests, and challenge the election's results. But this wasn't a rigged election. There isn't any confusion about what the voters really wanted. The American people did this. People you know and care about and who say they care about you are the people who did this. We need to recognize that these elections aren't outliers anymore. Trump's supporters aren't simply chaos agents who got lucky on a bad day for the Democrats. That's the country we live in now and we have to find a way to resist it that actually makes a difference because now they have the keys to all the doors and all of the alarm codes. This country has normalized the conspiracy theories and nativism and racism that has powered the MAGA movement since the moment Trump came down the elevator at Trump Tower in 2015. He's given those people permission to be open with their hatred towards people who aren't like them, and it's actually become surprising to see how many Americans have been eager to take advantage of that. I didn't think I had any misconceptions about this country before Donald Trump because I recognized this nation's history, but I clearly had some misconceptions about people I thought I knew until I saw them wearing a red MAGA hat or noticed they had a gigantic flag with Trump's name hanging where their U.S. flag used to hang. Once that happened, it was like a switch went off with them and they started saying things in ways that I'd never heard them speak. I feel like that's happened to the entire country. It breaks my heart and it pisses me off.

For the past few years, I've been warning everybody about how elections have consequences. I imagine that there are hundreds of posts on this blog with that phrase in all caps listed with the tags. Now the elections have happened, and we have to live with real fucking consequences. And we're going to pass these consequences on to other generations because this is the one that you can't get a do-over on. When you give a movement like this the power and the mandate that this country just gave them, there is no easily rolling back the things that they end up doing. They are going to fundamentally change the lives of people in this nation and especially change the way the younger generations of Americans live and love and learn for years to come. And you have people in your life who made that happen. It's another disgusting day in America -- a prelude to another reprehensible four years (at the very least) -- and I'm ashamed of tens of millions of my fellow Americans because this one is on them. They know exactly who the man is that they voted for, and now we know exactly who they are, too.

[strwberri-milk]

Hello! Can I request an angst Sylus x reader ff where the princess reader and Prince Sylus are in an arranged marriage and he really hates her also because of the rumors her fake friend made. The reader is cold on the outside but a very loving and sweet inside. During their 1 ½ year as a married couple, Sylus didn't acknowledged her as his wife but she does as her husband. One day, tables turned....Sorry for my English 😭

urgh i think you're wanting a fic from this which if i were to do this it would hoenstly end up being 5k</a long fic for which i aim 40k words for minimum and i mean this with all the kindness of my heart - i do not have the energy to do that for free so i hope youre okay w the typical hc style im doing!! also i changed some of it bc i dont see sylus making judgements of people based off what hes told

Sylus had long given up on the idea of doing things for himself wholly. He didn't have the ability to do things for just himself, selfishness the last thing on his mind with the status he owns. That's why he didn't object too much to being married - even if it was to someone he doesn't know.

Your first meeting was all business. He didn't mind at all but everybody in the room could feel the temperature drop by a few degrees. The two of you set out the terms of the marriage cleanly, coming to an agreement in very little time. To him it seemed that the two of you are on the same page, making things that much easier.

To respect your boundaries the two of you sleep in separate rooms. He's always busy, going off to meetings or sitting in his office reviewing the immense stacks of paperwork he has. Despite that, you try your best to find ways to include yourself in his schedule.

The servants always make room for you when you pass by, allowing you to go as you please while whispering about what might happen if they didn't. You pay it no mind, knowing that you've always been seen as intimidating. All it did was secure you a perfect match in Sylus, so you couldn't really mind. You learned quickly what his daily schedule looked like, finding the smallest gaps to insert yourself simply by delivering refreshments or news that other staff begged you not to do as it was below your station.

Sylus was a little surprised at first but he took it well, greeting you politely and thanking you whenever you came in. He understood it as you trying to keep appearances with your marriage, despite it being very clear to everybody involved everything was just for politics. He allows you your vice, sometimes even making small conversations with you. He didn't think you had any ulterior motive with how brief and impersonal the visits were.

He learned later that you began baking the pastries for him through the grapevine. You didn't tell him yourself, worried that he'd think you were trying to buy his affection while all you really wanted was just a way to be closer to him without intruding. He thanks you by buying a new set of clothes for you, a short, yet sweet note of him thanking you for thinking of him.

He doesn't seek you out still, not until he hears you've come down with a terrible illness that the physicians can't quite place. Thankfully it doesn't seem to be fatal, just incapacitating. By now the staff have begun to warm up around you, quietly speaking amongst themselves about how much you miss being able to see Sylus . You've admitted that you know Sylus doesn't see you as his spouse but you think of him as your dear husband, even if your relationship is slightly more than that of acquaintances.

He comes to visit you, sitting by your bed and just. Talking. He doesn't address the fact that you're sick - you've heard it too many times at this point - and just tells you about his day. Asks you about yours, what you want to do next week and if you'd be wanting to spend some time with him. The way your eyes light up makes him regret not reaching out to you sooner but he has a feeling he's got more than enough time to make it up to you.

[jinhyun]

—catalyst.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, pining, non-idol au, best friend’s little brother au

word count: 5.4k

summary: when your best friend points out how there seems to be something more than just a platonic friendship going on between you and hyunjin, you couldn’t help but start questioning everything you’ve been doing together so far.

a/n: and we finally get y/n’s pov!! (and a little bit of hyunie’s as always lol can’t help myself). there is a lotttttt of overthinking on her end so please go easy on her, she just got hit by facts she hadn’t thought twice about before (thank u chan).

if anyone comes across this in the tags, this is part 15.2 of a social media series called heart out! you can read it as a stand-alone but i wouldn’t recommend it since there are a lot of references to the previous parts of the story.

as always i hope you all enjoy! if you do, please let me know your thoughts on it<3

When you woke up that day, you never would’ve expected to end up with so many unanswered questions by the end of it.

It was supposed to be a normal day — a great one, actually. You were having lunch at the Hwang’s household, and that itself was enough to make you happy as ever.

It had been a while since you’d last seen Hyunjin and Yeji’s parents, let alone shared a meal with them, so you took it upon yourself to get up extra early that morning in order to make some dessert for them —a lemon pie and a chocolate one, as they were Mr. and Mrs. Hwang’s favourites— and still have enough time left to get ready.

Yeji called you out as soon as she and Chan arrived to pick you up, ranting about how it wasn’t necessary for you to bring anything, while you and Chan could only laugh, knowing well enough she was already eyeing the lemon pie and thinking of how many pieces she would have.

What only made it funnier to you was that you knew you’d get a similar reaction from Hyunjin once you met him at his parents’, only he’d be eyeing the chocolate pie instead.

Said and done, as soon as you entered their house and Hyunjin came up to greet you —not without first letting you know just how hurt he was over you sharing a ride with your friends instead of him—, he began to go on about how he told you that you didn’t need to bring their parents any presents, like you said you would after his mother had so generously made you some soup when you were in bed with a fever a week ago. Nevertheless, you could see the way he stole a few glances at the chocolate pie, before offering to take it to the kitchen, while Yeji did the same with the lemon one. You could never get bored with these two.

Their parents, you knew very well by now, were just the same as them. It was clear where Yeji and Hyunjin got their humor and antics from.

You always had a very nice time with them, as they’d always find the right topic to keep the conversation going. But then for some reason your dating life made it to the conversation at one point and Mingyu was brought up by their mother asking you about the ‘handsome young man’ they met a couple of times; and somehow that alone would be the catalyst that set off a series of events that ultimately left you questioning your entire relationship with Hyunjin later that night.

“So you are definitely not getting back together with him?” Their mother asked at last, once the whole ‘Mingyu lore’, as Yeji called it, had been covered.

“Um…” you hesitated, eyes unconsciously locking with Hyunjin next to you, before you looked for Yeji, who was in front of him. “No, we’re not”.

“Oh, dear” she lamented. “What he did was such a shame, the two of you certainly made a very nice couple”.

“You heard how he turned out to be an asshole, though” Yeji pointed out, taking the words from Hyunjin’s mouth and inevitably having him and Chan nod in silent agreement.

“It’s a good thing you’re moving past him” their father chimed in this time.

You nodded, giving him a gentle smile. You were trying your best, for sure.

“His parents must be devastated” Mrs. Hwang lamented again, bringing your attention back to her.

This time, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. “I mean, I got along really well with them, but I wouldn’t go as far as to think they’re devastated”.

“Losing a daughter-in-law as beautiful and attentive as you…” she explained, bringing some heat to your cheeks that you tried to play off by taking a sip of water. “The two of you would’ve made such beautiful children”.

The water you were drinking didn’t follow the path down your throat it should’ve at the sound of her statement, and you inevitably ended up choking on it.

“Yah, mum” Hyunjin called her out, gently patting your back as you tried to catch your breath. “Can we not mention children and her ex in the same sentence?”

“Right, sorry” she apologised, handing you a napkin and giving you a soft smile before her eyes focused on her husband; ignoring the way Hyunjin’s hand remained unconsciously drawing small circles on your back until you were able to breathe normally again. “But just imagine if we had that kind of genes in the family”.

“Did she just call us ugly?” Yeji frowned, locking eyes with Hyunjin, who couldn’t help but chuckle instead of acting offended like his sister — in his eyes you were on a whole other level of beauty after all.

“Honestly though, even I feel offended now” Chan butted in. “I don’t recall you wanting my genes this bad”.

“They met you when we were already a couple, she probably would’ve tried to bribe you too otherwise” Yeji let him know with a cynical laugh, having you all follow right after.

“Trust me, she’s already pictured how cute your children will be” Mr. Hwang let the couple know.

“Can we not?” Yeji pleaded with red cheeks this time. Chan, on the other hand, could not let the opportunity to tease her pass, poking her cheek and repeating in a squeaky voice just how cute their kids would be. “Back to the topic of Y/N’s genes, please” she begged.

“Jeez! Thanks, best friend” you ironically said amidst an incredulous laugh, earning a finger heart and an obnoxious smile from her in response.

“My point was,” their mother resumed her previous train of thought. “Now that Y/N’s single, I’m kind of wishing we had an older son. Imagine how beautiful their children would be if she became a Hwang”.

Well, that certainly felt like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown right at Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin’s right here, though?” Chan pointed out before the youngest could begin to get lost in his —quite angsty— thoughts. “They’re both in their twenties, I’d say there’s hope for Y/N to become a Hwang”.

And maybe, if you weren’t too busy kicking Chan under the table, you would’ve noticed the shy smile curving up Hyunjin’s mouth, as well as his slightly rosy cheeks as he looked down to his still nearly untouched food.

Maybe if Yeji wasn’t too busy laughing at her boyfriend after getting hit and ever so poorly trying to comfort him, she would’ve noticed her brother being all flustered, too.

But, thankfully for him, his parents did. And that was enough for them to nod their heads in silent understanding.

That was the last comment they made about your dating life that afternoon, having no trouble directing the topic once again towards Chan and Yeji’s relationship instead.

You, on the other hand, although had managed to do a pretty good job at following whatever topic was brought up for the rest of the meal, could not seem to let Chan’s comment go.

It was out of place. Way out of it. What did Hyunjin have to do with it anyway? Like, yes, they were talking about you becoming a Hwang and, yes, he was the only son they had, but that didn’t immediately make him an option?

He was three years younger than you. He was only seventeen and still in high school when you met, whereas you were in your second year of university. It felt wrong to even think about it. And it was even worse considering that there was a reason his mum had explicitly mentioned her wish to have an older son instead of pushing you towards Hyunjin right away. It didn’t seem right for them either, as far as you could tell from what had just gone down.

Which is why you couldn’t let it go. Not even after you and Hyunjin got back to your place, like you had agreed to earlier that day when you decided to share a car with Chan and Yeji instead of him, and he wasted no time to secure his much needed alone time with you once you were done at his parents’.

You’d excused yourself to the kitchen to make some popcorn while Hyunjin was comfortably resting on your couch as he looked for any romcom movie to watch while he sipped on the hot chocolate you made as soon as you got home, and you took those few minutes away from him to text Chan and ask for an explanation.

And, God, did you get one.

You re-read the conversation over and over after he went offline, unable to understand where the hell had it all come from.

“He’s 23 now”.

“You may have met when he was 17 but he’s an adult now”.

“Considering what’s currently going on between the two of you”.

“I’m just trying to make you see and actually consider all your choices”.

“Hyunjin is not a little boy anymore”.

Every single text, hitting harder than the other.

Of course he was no longer a little boy. He stopped being one a long time ago, you weren’t stupid. But he was still Hyunjin, Yeji’s little brother. Nothing would ever change that.

You were supposed to care for him just like she did, to be there for him and protect him when the time came. He wasn’t supposed to be ‘a choice’ for you like any other guy could.

He was Hyunjin, the teenage boy who hardly talked to you the weekend you first met and would stutter almost every time he did, and who would so shyly let you and Yeji know dinner was ready whenever you stayed at theirs after that.

Hyunjin, the high school student you’d give some advice regarding the university admission test and applications throughout his last year of it, and whose graduation you attended later on.

Hyunjin, who made it to your university and would constantly ask for your help in his assignments, regardless of him having chosen a completely different major; and who you’d constantly check up on to make sure he was doing okay in his first year of it.

Hyunjin, who held you tight as ever the night Mingyu left you, and refused to go home like Yeji told him it was okay for him to until he was sure you were sound asleep and no longer crying, which didn’t happen until way past four in the morning.

Hyunjin, who would text to check up on you every single day after your breakup, even if it meant getting very short, cold answers from the heartbroken and detached persona that had taken over your body the following weeks.

Hyunjin, who included you in his New Year’s Eve plans and kept you company the entire weekend Yeji and Chan were away.

Hyunjin, who made it known he missed being as close as you once got to be years ago and took the lead to propose picking up where you left off.

Hyunjin, the man who had spent the entire past month making your days better by simply texting or showing up at your place — being there for you even when you didn’t need him to.

Had you really missed how much he was there for you? When was it that the roles reversed and he started to look after you instead?

You jumped when the microwave started beeping, letting you know the popcorn was ready. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you rushed to pour the popcorn into a bowl before making your way back into the living room.

Hyunjin’s head snapped in your direction, unable to hide his smile as soon as he saw you.

You gulped, trying your best to calm your heartbeats down before you took a seat next to him right as he placed the now empty mug on the coffee table. Maybe you should’ve texted Chan later that night, when Hyunjin was back at his place and you wouldn’t have to face him right away after being hit with so many questions.

“I was like one minute away from going over there to see what was taking you so long” he confessed.

“Just making us a small snack” you smiled cutely, shaking the bowl in your hands to make your point.

“I’m pretty sure popcorn takes like three minutes to make in the microwave,” he pointed out, shoving a single one into his mouth. “You took like seven”.

You scoffed in amusement. “Did you set a timer or something?”

“No, but I watched three whole movie trailers,” he admitted, earning a breathy laugh from you. “And that without counting the minutes I spent scrolling through movies to watch. I’d say you took at least ten minutes, actually”.

“Did you miss me that much to actually count the minutes?” You couldn’t help but joke.

“Well, yes” he answered with no hesitation, and no signs of joking either; very unfortunately for your already shaken up heart. “I told you earlier that I hadn’t seen you all week and wanted to spend time with you”.

“We’ve been together nearly all day” you reminded him sweetly.

“Not alone, though” his words made you feel warm inside, like they seemed to be doing a lot lately. “It’s not the same”.

“Sorry,” you pouted, and that was enough for him to melt. “I got kinda caught up texting and… here, I’ll just leave my phone on the table so we’ll just focus on the movie”.

Placing your phone next to his on the coffee table in front, you leaned back against the sofa, tilting your head up towards the TV, so he’d hit ‘play’ and you could get started on your movie night.

When five seconds went by and he didn’t move an inch, you focused your eyes on him instead.

“Hyunie?” You called him, moving your hand in front of him to pull him out of his thoughts and smiling once you did. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, um, I just…” he struggled, having his eyes going back to your phone. “Was it work related? Like, was it… was he…”

“I was talking to Channie” you clarified when you got what was going through his mind. “Don’t be silly now, you really think I’d spend ten minutes of my life texting my ex boyfriend?”

“I mean, you guys have a project together now, so…”

“Still, we can just get it over with by email” you stood your ground. “I only spend that long texting people I actually enjoy talking to”.

He smiled, happy to know you would usually spend that amount of time texting —if not more— and, therefore, he was one of those lucky ones you enjoyed talking to.

Beaming after that realisation, and with the possibility of you talking to your ex out of the way, he grabbed the remote and pointed it to the TV.

“Is this one okay?” He asked, motioning towards the title ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ displayed on it.

You nodded quite effusively. “What are you waiting for, it’s one of my favourites”.

He bit his lip, but not even that was enough to hide the wide smile taking over his face as he leaned back against the couch as well and finally hit ‘play’. Of course he knew you loved that movie. He wasn’t choosing one only he enjoyed after all, and maybe knowing you’d get happy about it was the reason he ended up going with this particular one.

To be fair, he knew he’d spend half of the movie looking at you instead anyway. It was quite cute how you wouldn’t notice, being way too immersed in the plot you must’ve watched a hundred times by now.

Every now and then, he would reach for the popcorn at the same time as you, with the mere intention of his fingers faintly touching yours, but by the third time they touched and he got no reaction from you, he decided he wanted more — having your fingers touch without you noticing was not enough.

So, he slid slightly down the sofa, just enough for his face to be on the same level as yours, and then he rested his head on your shoulder.

That, you noticed. Hyunjin realised by the way your body tensed up under his touch.

And, for a moment there, he considered sitting up and going back to his previous position, hating the thought of his proximity making you feel uncomfortable; but you greatly surprised him by leaning your head on his before he could do so, silently letting him know right then that you did in fact enjoy being this close to him.

In the end, he had nothing to worry about when it came to touching you, for you had made it clear a while ago that it didn’t bother you. But, then again, he wasn’t sure whether you were only enduring it or actually enjoyed it. He didn’t know which touches were okay and which ones were crossing the line. And the thing was, so far, you enjoyed every single kind of physical contact he had tried with you. They were all brief, innocent even, sweet.

Him leaning his head on your shoulder hadn’t made you tense up because he crossed some kind of line, but because, unknown to him, your head was a complete mess right then. Unable to let your previous conversation with Chan go, you were now questioning the meaning behind this small action of his.

“Considering what’s currently going on between the two of you”.

Was this what he meant by that? You and Hyunjin being this kind of close?

This was the first time he rested his head on your shoulder out of all the times you’d been sitting down on your couch just like this, and now you couldn’t tell whether you were overthinking too much because of your friend’s words, or whether you would’ve started overthinking just the same regardless of it.

Yes, he had held your hand before, but it was an act for the hotteok lady not to feel ashamed after thinking the two of you were a couple.

Yes, you had cuddled through the night on this very couch, but it was only because you passed out without either of you noticing.

Every other ‘major’ touch you shared had an excuse behind it. Hyunjin lying his head on your shoulder, however? It didn’t have one. He just felt like it, wanted to be close to you. And ultimately you ended up giving in and resting your head on his simply because you felt like it, too. It felt nice. Regardless of the mess going on in your head, you wanted to be close to him, too.

Was it even an overthinking matter anyway? Friends did this all the time, right? Both you and Chan used to do it a lot before you and Mingyu started dating. You and Yeji still did it a lot, too, up to this day. Why did it suddenly feel different with Hyunjin?

Damn you, Bang Chan. You certainly didn’t need this right now.

Once again, your thoughts were interrupted by a sound. This one was softer than your microwave’s beep, though, more like a buzz coming from one of the phones on the coffee table. Considering your phone wasn’t on silent mode right then, you knew it was Hyunjin’s.

“Your phone just buzzed” you let him know when he wouldn’t budge.

“Leave it” he replied simply, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“What if it’s important?” You wondered.

He sighed, already giving in — as easily as he always did when it came to you. “I’m too comfy, can you pass it to me?”

You nodded in a second, unable to hold back the chuckle that escaped your mouth when you leaned over to grab his phone and he followed your movement, as he refused to lift his head from its comfortable spot on your shoulder.

Just as you were back in your place and about to hand him his phone, though, its screen lit up, letting you see a single message from Dahye.

As soon as you saw it, you panicked, practically shoving the phone into Hyunjin’s hands.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have read that” you apologised, shamefully looking away.

Hyunjin frowned, sitting up in clear alert before he could check what you were talking about. His eyes opened wide once he read Dahye’s text and he immediately realised what it must’ve looked like to you.

It was a simple question: “Are you coming over tonight?”

No hello, no ‘Hyunjinie~’; just straight to the point, which couldn’t help but lead you to wonder whether texts like this and him going over to her place at night were an usual occurrence by now.

Hyunjin had told you all about her at New Year’s Eve. From how they kissed when he was drunk to how she wouldn’t leave him alone even years after it happened. He told you it was one sided, that he was tired of her constant insistence. But then why did that one text from her make it seem like that wasn’t precisely the case?

Unlike him, you hadn’t read Han’s message following Dahye’s, for it had just been delivered when he checked his phone right then. You hadn’t read the one message that gave the whole context to Dahye’s obscure text.

“She means to the pregame,” he was fast to clear up. “Han just texted me and apparently we’re going to a noraebang tonight and pregaming at Haeun’s. Dahye’s staying with her, so…”

You nodded, feeling like you weren’t in the place to say anything. It was his life, after all. He could be with whoever he wanted. He didn’t owe you any explanations. Fuck, did you want any explanations?

You didn’t know if you were feeling embarrassed for reading a text message that was supposed to be private, or if you were upset over the idea that Chan had just planted in your head being tainted not even an hour later.

Maybe you’d been thinking too much over something that wasn’t even there, being influenced by your best friend and what he thought was going on between you and Hyunjin. Maybe it was nothing after all.

But you couldn’t deny that you did feel quite uneasy over her text.

Were you upset that she was talking to him? Were you upset they were possibly hooking up? Was it being about Hyunjin you were upset about? Or were you just upset over how much the scene playing right in front of you resembled the times you’d just started questioning Mingyu’s relationship with Hayun while you were still together?

The times you’d catch the suspicious text messages popping up on his notifications, how nervous he would get and how he would start to throw excuse after excuse for you to believe he had nothing to do with her… You knew this feeling all too well, and you hated that you were feeling it again, with Hyunjin of all people, when you were not even together, you had no feelings for him as far as you knew, and, most importantly, you knew he was nothing like Mingyu at all.

And yet, here you were, feeling the goddamn lump in your throat you had felt one too many times by now because of a guy.

“Y/N?” He brought you back to reality. He looked worried. “I promise it doesn’t mean what it looked like”.

You had to hold back the hopeless laugh that threatened to escape your mouth at the sound of his words.

Words you had heard and decided to let pass way more times than you were proud of, and which brought you right back to the downfall of your last relationship.

You didn’t know which one of your concerns had to do with the trauma of your past relationship and which ones were actually related to the current situation you had just found yourself in.

When did it all stop being about Mingyu and it started being about Hyunjin?

“It’s okay” you gave him the most genuine smile you could give him, to let him know you were alright. Still, he didn’t look convinced. “You should get going, though”.

“I mean it, though” he pushed it when he could tell you weren’t convinced. “You can go through the t—”

“Hyunie,” you cut him off, this time with a soft chuckle. “It’s okay. I believe you”.

Did you?

“But apparently there is a pregame taking place in a bit, so you should get going”.

“You don’t even know at what time it is” he pouted.

“It’s a little past seven right now,” you pointed out, checking the time in your phone. “I’m guessing at seven thirty? Eight at most?”

Looking down to the group chat with his friends and realising you were right, he only made his pout more prominent.

“Am I right?” You wondered with a teasing smirk.

“Yes…” he let out a defeated sigh.

When you laughed triumphantly, he leaned in to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“I don’t wanna go yet” he mumbled.

“You have to if you wanna make it in time with your friends”.

“I can always just skip pregame” he suggested, then sitting up again and looking at you with a mischievous smile. “Or skip night out as a whole”.

“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin” you scolded him. “You are not pulling a New Year’s Eve stunt on me again”.

“A New Year’s Eve stunt?” He wondered rather amusedly.

“You know, when you said you’d only stay with me until midnight and then ended up not going back to your friends that night” you explained.

“This is different, though. We had plans before”.

“Staying on the couch watching movies with me can’t even compete with going out with your friends”.

“No, you’re right” he nodded. “It can’t compete because staying in with you would win every time”.

“Hyunjin…” you tried your best to sound stern and not melt over his words. “Go”.

“But…”

“I’m not letting you skip yet another night out with your friends because of me”.

“Come with me then?” He asked with puppy eyes.

You were quick to look away, knowing well enough you would fall for his charms otherwise. “I’ll have to pass this time”.

“Is it because of Dahye?” He carefully wondered, taking your following silence as a yes. “We can skip pregame and then I’ll tell my friends to make up some excuse for her not to join us at noraebang”.

“Hyunjin,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “You don’t have to do that, just go have fun with them”.

“But I wanna be with you” he pouted once more.

“Hyunie…” it sounded like you were begging by now. “The movie’s about to end anyway”.

“And we were supposed to watch another once once it did” he reminded you, later allowing a taunting smirk to curve up his lips when a certain idea made it to his head. “Are you so set on making me leave right now because you’re afraid you might not want me to leave at all if I stay any longer?”

You snorted, playfully yet gently poking his forehead. “Someone’s gotten a little too cocky, don’t you think?”

“Am I wrong, though?” He pushed it. “Do you really want me to go?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want me to go?” He repeated.

“Your friends—”

“That’s not what I’m asking you” he cut you off. “You have this really bad habit of always avoiding my questions, you know?”

You found yourself lowering your head, feeling oh-so-little under his piercing stare.

Although Hyunjin loved seeing you nervous because of him and it was a very rare occurrence coming from you, right then, he wanted your eyes on him. So, placing two fingers under your chin, he tilted your head back to his eye level — both of you only realising how close you actually were when your eyes met.

“It’s a simple yes or no question” he specified, gently removing a strand of hair from your face. “Do you want me to go?”

“No” you answered truthfully this time.

He smiled brightly.

“But—BUT,” you emphasized before he could celebrate, leaning slightly back and lifting your index finger for him to pay attention. “Like I said, I’m not letting you bail on your friends again, there will come a time they’ll get tired of it. You deserve to let loose and have some fun only with them”.

“But we were supposed to hang out today…”

“And we did?”

He frowned, clearly not happy with your answer.

“Come onnn,” you tried your best to convince him. “We’ll hang out again tomorrow anyway”.

“We will?” He perked up instantly, enough to make you feel shy all over again.

“I mean, if you want to, of course…” you corrected yourself. You had really become that used to seeing him both days every weekend now for it to be more of a given, huh?

“I believe it’s pretty clear by now that I always want to hang out with you”.

You tried to hold back a smile — needless to say, your efforts were miserable. “Okay then, we’ll see each other tomorrow”.

“Okay,” he smiled, satisfied with your new plans. “Let’s go out this time, since staying in is too boring for you now”.

“When did I ever say that?!”

“When you said that this,” he motioned around your place. “Wasn’t competition for a night out”.

“That is so not what I meant?” You argued.

“Still,” he laughed, eyes softening when they locked with yours. “I’m taking you out for lunch, okay?”

You smiled timidly, nodding your head. “Let’s see if you’re not too hungover first. Might have to end up taking care of you instead”.

“Now I might get blackout drunk just to have you taking care of me tomorrow”.

You shook your head in disbelief, unable to hide your amusement as you looked away. “Never mind, I will be sending either Yeji or your mum instead”.

“I’m joking, I’m joking” he laughed, looking for your eyes to lock with his again and gently grabbing your hands that were resting on your lap. “I’ll behave. Just let me take you out for lunch tomorrow, hm? Just us two”.

Staring down at your hands in his warm, soft ones, you couldn’t help but get invaded with more questions than answers.

It felt nice… being touched by him felt nice. Being close to him as a whole made you feel all warm inside. And he was right when he joked about you being scared you wouldn’t want him to leave at all if he stayed any longer, because truth was you already didn’t. You wanted him to stay, as close as you were minutes before.

Was it okay for you to be this close? Both physically and also emotionally? To the point of talking every single day and finding a way to see each other more than you saw your own best friends?

Did you enjoy his touch so much because it came from him? Or was it because you missed being touched?

Was he like this with everyone else? With Dahye? Anyone else at all? Did he treat you differently from them? Or was he just a flirty person and what you were now considering to be some kind of special treatment was just him acting the same as he did with every other girl?

Were you beginning to fall for him? Had you really been that oblivious to your own feelings? Or were you just looking too much into it now because of Chan’s influence, and mistaking a platonic —and rather strong— connection for something more?

Would Yeji be okay with it?

Too many questions were invading your mind, one right after the other, and you couldn’t find a single answer to any of them just yet.

However, although you didn’t know what you were feeling and were unsure about what demons were from your past and which ones were new, you did know one thing for sure: You were never as happy as when you were with him.

So, with a soft smile and a nod of your head, pushing any other thought for later tonight when you went to bed, you said the only thing you could answer to his request right then. “Okay”.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin @shyshyshytwice @nicoleparadas @​broken-glowsticks

[jubshead]

𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐚

Paring: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: The only person who could ruin a vacation in Italy was your stepmother, but what if she made it unexpectedly better?

A/N: Okay, so this was inspired by the second season of White Lotus and the title is in italian because I thought the english word was too crude.

I hope this isn’t too OOC, let me know!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

Warnings: Face slapping, non-consensual spanking, dubious consent, unwanted arousal, degradation kink, face sitting.

I hope I didn’t leave anything behind, but if I did let me know.

Word count: 3.1k

Date: Nov 05, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist

Tag list: @jmkjournalblog @thecavalrywife @yourbasicqueerie @polaris-likethestar @riosslut @maevaofendora @yippie-kai-gay @w1theredroz3 (sorry for tagging you guys again, I’m making a few adjustments)

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The sun shines through the blowing white curtains and into the bedroom. The last few days in Sicily were cloudy, and as pleasant as they had been, you’ve been longing for a day at the beach. The weather today was perfect for spending time in a bikini and staying at the hotel, not visiting any tourist spots or museums.

Italy is breathtaking. College was wearing you out, so spending a few weeks away from the student mentality is doing you good, it also helps that your father is paying for everything, even if it doesn’t erase the complicated relationship you two had.

Waking up early is mandatory in every vacation and today was especially easy. As soon as you had taken a peek at the open window of your room, you got out of bed. The constant tiredness you felt from your routine had vanished a few days into the city, and you were excited to make the most of it.

Skin glistening with sunscreen, you head downstairs for breakfast. The buffet was set up on a covered balcony with the chairs outside, where you could enjoy the view of the italian architecture as you ate. Grabbing a few fruits and a spoonful of eggs, you head out to find an empty table, only to catch sight of your father’s raised arm moving left and right to get your attention.

This vacation would be perfect if it weren’t for them. 

“Good morning.” You say, settling on one of the chairs.

Your greeting goes unanswered. Your father is back on his phone and your stepmother gives you a mouth pressed smile, doesn’t bother pretending she likes you. Every time you were in their presence, you felt like throwing up. Besides the fact that your father is 30 years older than her, you still hate both of them for the affair they had while your parents were together. 

You’ve always known your father was an asshole, but adultery was the final straw. The only reason you kept in contact with him was because of your mother. The saint she was, begged you to not distance yourself from him, scared you would be alone when she was gone, and how could you not grant a dying woman’s wish?

Rio was a cunt, but you couldn't deny that she was attractive. Your father wanting to stay with her wasn't a huge surprise. It was pretty clear, though, that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. She was obviously with him for the money, and you were pretty sure she was cheating on him. Karma is a bitch, after all, and your dad’s time has finally come. 

Eating your meal slowly, you enjoy the light breeze blowing your hair back. Cargo navy blue shorts and an open white button shirt hide away your black bikini and when you stretch your arms up, you feel eyes on you. Turning towards your stepmother, you’re greeted with sunglasses covered eyes and a similar blouse to yours, her brown hair is down. 

“I have to get some work done, so I won’t be able to spend the day with you.” Your father tells you, finally looking up from the phone.

“That’s fine.” You reply, shoving a spoonful of papaya into you mouth 

Oh, thank goodness you wouldn't have to stay with them today. 

“Rio will go to the beach with you, though.” 

Your eye twitch at that. Glancing in her direction, you see her tongue poking into her cheek and a side smile, clearly enjoying your suffering. 

“I’m sure she would like to do something else. “ You try. 

“No, no. I want you to spend time together, get to know each other.” Your father and his need to make you two close, this whole trip was all about that and yet you still avoid her like you have done all these years. You’ve never wanted any kind of relationship with her and that wasn’t about to change. 

“Whatever.” You breathe out. 

“Come up to our room. Rio needs to change and I can give you girls some cash to go out and buy a few clothes.” Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Spending as much time away from her as possible was one of your goals in this vacation.

He leaves his uneaten breakfast on the table and gets up. 

“Fine.” You concede. 

In the hallway, they walk ahead of you and you take a moment to watch them. Your father moves with the confidence of a rich white man with a plastic filled face. He’s in his 70's and doesn’t have the worst body, but if Rio was putting up with him because of money, it must be torture. She was clearly above his level, with black hair, slim body and defined arms. Anyone could see that. She had a powerful aura and walked with a sway to her hips. 

You look up when you realize you’re staring at her ass. 

The white door opens up with your dad's key card. Their bedroom is huge. The entrance leads to a living room with two couches and a coffee table. At the parallel wall to the entry, a large door opens to a balcony with a beautiful view of the mountains, the water constantly crashing against the rocks. Their bed is on the left side and is separated by a bow shaped wall, the other side of the room is the bathroom. It has a big counter with multiple beauty products. 

“I’m off. There’s a computer room downstairs, if anyone needs me, I’ll be there.” He hands you three hundred dollars and goes to kiss Rio. 

He holds her waist firmly and she turns her head before his lips contact with hers. She pushes him slightly back and pat his shoulders, you hold in your laugh. 

“Okay then.” He mutters embarrassed, ruffling your hair on his way out.

It doesn’t take 10 seconds after he leaves for you to turn to her and say. “Look, we don’t have to do this. I don’t want to spend time with you and I’m sure the sentiment is mutual.” 

She fake gasps at you, eyebrows raised and smirks. “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” 

Rolling your eyes, you head to the bathroom to wash your hands, they feel sticky after eating the fruits from breakfast. You hear some movement in the bedroom and assume Rio is grabbing her bikini. The wardrobe door closes shut and you glance up in the mirror to watch your stepmother's figure walking behind you. You’re one step away from moving out of the restroom when she slips her blouse and shorts off. 

Time seems to stop as you watch her with her back to you, her ass is completely bare and you stare as she first ties the top knots of the two-piece. She bends to pull up the bottoms and you look down to your hands, your breath comes out shallowly, the image buried into your mind.

“Boo.” A voice says, her breath ghosts your ear and you try to hide your startlement. 

Looking up, you purse your lips. She’s standing a foot behind you and smiles smugly in your direction. When you turn around, her face is closer than you expected.

“What do you want?” You ask sharply.

“What do I want?” She repeats slowly, her fingers running through your hair ends. “You tell me.” She stares into your eyes and you squint, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back.

“Fuck off.” You let out an incredulous laugh. “I always knew you were a whore, but this is beyond anything I’d have expected.” 

“Why? Are you still mad at me because of mommy?” She teases with a fake pout. 

Your entire face closes off and you take a step towards her. 

“Don’t talk about my mother. You could never be half of the woman she was.” 

“Oh, yeah? Your father would disagree.” 

The reaction is instantaneous. Your palm stings from the contact and you gape at her, surprised at your own slap. With your hand frozen in midair, you observe as her head turns back in your direction, her cheek is stained by red fingers and she lets out a breathy laugh, running her digits through it. 

“You are gonna regret that.” 

The apology that was about to come out of your mouth is cut off by the yank on your scalp, your body is forcefully rotated towards the sink and you hold the impact with your palms. The tug in your hair makes your back bend in an uncomfortable way and your neck aches as it’s pulled back. Rio pressed firmly against your arched ass and rested her chin on your shoulder, looking at your startled face through the reflection. Her nails sink in your flesh.

“What are you doing?” You breathe out, partially scared and slightly aroused. 

“Has anyones ever told you that you’re a brat?” She avoids your question with one with her own, you feel fingers running down your waist. 

“Has anyone ever told you?” You return. 

She scoffs as her mouth breaks into a grin, shaking her head left and right. The digits you felt moving through your covered skin grip you with full force and move to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning it. Panic flashes in your eyes as she pushes it down. You struggle against her hold and she pulls your hair harder. 

“Don’t fight it, sweetheart.” 

Breath catches in your throat when her fingers grab a handful of your bare ass. 

“Do you know how I tame a brat?” She whispers in your ear and answers her own question. “I teach her a lesson.” 

The sound of her palm colliding with your backside echoes off the white walls and your surprised yelp follows it. The slap doesn’t hurt, you could bet Rio didn’t put all her strength into it, the worst part, for sure, is that it felt good. The sting brings a delicious burn to your skin and you prevent yourself from asking for more.

The second time it happens, you grab harder into the counter. Words seem to fail you and you stand still, this whole thing feels like a fever dream. You look up at the mirror and see Rio’s eyes completely fixated on your ass, she smoothes her hands through it and you shudder. 

The one that follows is firmer and you groan, unable to contain yourself. Goosebumps mark your skin and your body reacts to the pain, shifting uncomfortably against your bikini.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” She asks, raising her brows and giving you a maniac grin.

“Fuck you.” 

She ‘tsks’ behind you and hums, slapping you three times in a row. The reaction is instantaneous and you hate yourself for pushing your ass back against her. 

“Who’s the whore now?” She asks in your ear and laughs. 

The taunting worsens your condition. Slick gathers in your underwear and you bite your lips, stressed by the way your body is reacting to your step mother. She doesn’t give you any type of relief and smacks you two more times. This torture seems to be going on forever, but you’ve only counted seven slaps. You had no idea how long it would last.

You’re about to speak when she strikes you one more time, with an open mouth, you aren’t able to contain the moan that escapes you and your face lights up like a christmas tree.

“You are so cute when you blush, sweetheart.” She tells you and licks your ear, her palm massages your sore butt and she adds. “Everytime we meet, I just want to have you all to myself.” She pulls back and looks at your pitiful position. Arched back, red ass and shorts bunched up mid-thigh, she runs tongue over her teeth. “When I saw the opportunity today, I just knew I had to take it. It’s so easy to rile you up and the fact that you hate me only makes it all the more delicious.” You shudder at her words. 

She is fucking mental. 

She surprises you for a second time with a spank. Tears well up in your eyes, the sting is worse than before and your arousal is burning you up from inside. The whole situation is making you dizzy, you feel like you’d fall down if Rio wasn’t holding you so tightly. Your neck hurts and you almost beg her to stop, but you couldn’t handle the humiliation, so you face it like a big girl. 

She delivers two more and you screw your eyes shut. One tear runs down your face and you feel Rio releasing the grip on your hair, turning you around to face her. 

“Ten slaps, that’s all. No need to cry.” She runs her thumb over your wet cheek. 

The sink presses against your backside and the cold of it helps with the burn, with your eyes still closed, you take a deep breath. You’re still in shock. 

“Did you learn your lesson?” She asks, her palms holding your wrist against your breasts. 

You stare at her for a second. Laughing at her smirk, you spit right in her face. She closes her eyes, whipping the dripping saliva with her fingers. Her entire face closes off, her patience seems to have run thin. 

She doesn’t say anything else, turns around and pulls you by the forearm. You struggle against her hold, but she’s stronger than you expected. Losing your balance when she throws you on the mattress, you don’t have time to get up before she’s upon you, holding your wrist above your head and kissing you roughly.

You hate yourself for it, but it doesn’t take 5 seconds for you to kiss her back. She’s in full control of the kiss and you writhe beneath her, failing to release your arms. Her tongue runs against yours and you can barely breathe from the intensity, your head spinning. 

One of her hands runs down your side to the bikini bottom. 

You suck in a breath when she separates. 

“I could eat you alive in this, couldn’t take my eyes off you at breakfast.” She tells you, licking your cheek. 

Her hand brushes the black fabric before pushing it aside, you are embarrassed by your state. Her fingers run through your wet folds, circling your entrance as you whine, desperate to be fucked.

“You are pathetic.” She says close to your face. 

Fuck your body for reacting the way it shouldn’t. The degradation turns you on even more and you feel your resolve crumbling. Rio chuckles at the intern battle she sees in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to use that pretty little head of yours for long.” 

She rolls off of you. The opportunity to escape presents itself and you don’t move an inch, with your wetness sticking to your thighs, you just want Rio to have her way with you. She smirks at you and crawls up your body until she’s stradling your ribs. 

She doesn't put her full weight on you as she squeezes your cheeks and says. “Let’s see if this mouth is good for anything other than being disrespectful.”

You barely have time to understand the implication before her cunt completely shadows your vision. Her bikini is set aside and she pushes her hips down, making you grip her thighs in an attempt to control her pace. Giving up on your moral high ground, you lick a stripe up her lower lips. She hums on top of you and grinds down, her juices smear on your chin and you’ve only just begun. Apparently you weren’t the only one affected by the spanking.

Focusing your attention elsewhere, you leave a hard bite on her inner thigh, taking your hatred on her skin. She moans and sits completely on your face, making it impossible to breathe. 

“You better get to work, sweetheart.” She mocks you and amends. “Before you pass out.”

You fully believe she’d let that happen so with renewed energy, you grab into her butt and grind her center against your face. Your tongue circles her entrance before going in. Hearing her hand grab the headboard, you begin to move in and out. Your pace is rapid and she seems to enjoy it as she starts to ride your face. Sucking her lower lips makes her groan on top of you, so you repeat the motion and squeeze a handful of her ass, making her moan. 

With little breath, you stick your tongue out and let her chase her own orgasm. She slowly moves in circular motion and spreads her juices around your face. Her movement picks up speed and within seconds she’s bouncing against your mouth. You grip her ass tightly and feel your nose bumping against her clit. 

She becomes a moaning mess on top of you. 

For someone who can’t breathe, however, eternity seems to pass as you struggle to keep up with her. She is clearly on the edge and trying to reach her peak, so, in a last attempt to get her off of you, you run your tongue all the way up before sucking her clit as hard as you can. 

Her movement comes to a halt and you feel her body tensing up, her thighs tighten around your head and your ears ring from the pressure. Her orgasm finally hits and she shudders on top of you, breathing heavily and letting out unrestrained moans. 

She collapses beside you and you take the biggest gulp of air you can manage. Your breathing is as ragged as hers and you curse yourself for having a weakness for older women, this shouldn't have happened. 

Silence befalls you for about a minute as Rio gathers herself and you contemplate your life choices. As soon as her breathing is slower, she gets up on her knees in the bed. All your previous worries leave your mind as soon as she’s back upon you, straddling your waist and biting her lips.

She kisses you and grasps the wrists that hold her face, you press your center against hers and let out a whine when she pulls back and gets out of the bed. With a puzzled face, you sit up and ask.

“Where are you going?” 

“To the beach.” She simply says, grabbing a sun hat and putting it on. 

“What?” You rapidly blink.

“You heard me.” Her face breaks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen in her sulking face. 

“Rio.” You whine like a petulant child. 

She comes towards you and gives you a long peck. Your mouth follows hers  as she pulls away.

“Brats don’t get rewards.” She states and heads for the door, exiting the room with a witchy cackle as you throw yourself back onto the bed. 

[warping-realities]

Online Scam - An OnlyFags Story

Inspired by the concept created by @johnbrand and @boysmentfs

Henry wasn’t having a good day; hell, it wasn’t even a good week or month. He had been stoked for college, ready to hit up new places and live it up, but the truth was that everything was turning into a total shitshow. His roommate was barely tolerable and he hadn’t made a single friend yet. All of this was messing with his head. But what really got to him was being totally broke, not having a dime to his name. His dad sent him a bit of cash, still stuck between being proud of having a son in college and feeling ashamed that son was openly gay. Henry, a name picked by his late mother, who passed down her delicate traits both physically and mentally, knew his dad earned that money busting his ass as a mechanic at a big car shop, and it didn’t come in large amounts, but surely he could send more than the pathetic little sum he was sending. The young man wondered if he’d get more cash if he had a sports scholarship instead of one for his grades.

While hunting for a side gig that could hook him up with some cash, Henry got blindsided by a new message alert on his computer screen. It wasn’t just the message itself; it was who it was from. Larry Thomas was in charge of the more complex systems at the car company where Henry’s dad worked. He was a relatively new hire, and Henry’s dad didn’t get along with the guy at all, with Henry only knowing him from the last company holiday party, since Henry’s dad didn’t want a “degenerate faggot” near his son. The irony of the situation was lost on the old man.

“Hey, kid, I heard your dad telling the guys he cut your funds to force you to man up or whatever. Maybe this will help you scrape together some cash!” the message from the man said, along with a link. Feeling like he had nothing to lose and pissed off at his dad, who he was now sure was punishing him for being gay, Henry clicked the link, which immediately started downloading some kind of app.

“Shit, I hope this ain’t a virus,” he muttered in front of the computer screen.

After loading, a logo popped up at the top: OnlyFags. What the hell was that? Some kind of joke from Larry? Did he team up with Henry’s dad just to humiliate him? Nah, that didn’t make sense; they hated each other. Still, Henry had caught a few looks from Larry directed at his dad that made him think there was some kinda unrequited attraction there… Before he could do anything, a text box popped up asking “Are you a creator or a user?” followed by two more boxes for a username and password. Henry’s computer acted on its own, typing in a sequence so fast he couldn’t read anything that was written or checked. The screen froze for a moment, a spinning circle indicating something was loading, and soon a bunch of boxes appeared on the screen with various profiles.

A massive shock hit Henry with what those profiles showed. He stared in horror and disgust at what they displayed. Mostly dudes between twenty and forty years old with their bodies on full display, playing with pierced nipples, licking feet, or even getting off in plain sight! He moved the mouse, intending to close that crap and delete that app from his computer ASAP.

But fear took over as, instead of shutting down that damn app, the mouse pointer moved on its own to click the profile button in the opposite corner of the screen. The screen loaded again, and there was a profile filled out for him— name, age, height, weight, shoe size, and even dick size. All of it wildly different from reality. A warning popped up quickly: “Your profile picture is outdated! Would you like to take a new one?”

A sudden wave of even greater horror washed over Henry as his hand clicked “yes.” The front camera opened, and his hand set the timer for twenty seconds before propping it against the headboard of the bed, moving to the other side. Almost robotically, he took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor before adjusting his pose for the camera. He moved, trying to get his foot in the shot while flexing one arm, not realizing he’d gained a bunch of pounds of pure muscle and that his delicate size 7 feet had ballooned to a more robust size 10.

Paralyzed and unable to move, he saw a message pop up on the computer screen. “New photo uploaded! Error!!! Photo does not match profile. Correcting parameters!” Scared, he quickly summoned the last bit of willpower he had and tried to get up and shut that app down once and for all, only to be shoved back by an invisible wall, with all the impact you’d expect from a high-speed crash. Dizzy and confused, he felt his face and body go through a sensation of distortion, and suddenly… nothing! The most complete emptiness reigned in his mind. He didn’t know who he was or even his own name. And he stayed like that for several seconds, staring into the inner void.

Until a new notification appeared on the screen, grabbing his attention. “Success! Parameters corrected; new profile picture published!” Immediately, likes started flooding in on his photo and profile, making him focus on the computer screen just as the computer camera turned on again and a live stream began.

He quickly, almost automatically, repositioned himself, flexing one of the powerful arms he’d just acquired. A notification on the app pinged: “New donation from DirtyFaggotMike.”

The app, once again on its own, opened a list of donations from various users with similar and usernames, ranging from small amounts to hundreds of dollars. Henry felt a rush of pride inside him as memories of all the degrading content about that kind of people and the outrageous amounts of cash received for it flooded his mind!

A new comment appeared in at the top of the page with a $100 donation. “Master, your giant hands turn me on; I’d love to be smothered by them.” Henry found himself talking automatically to the screen: “Keep dreaming, faggot. You’re lucky enough to be able to worship them from a distance!” he replied, grinning arrogantly as he admired his own flexed arm.

A part of Henry still intact, lost in the gigantic void that his memories had become, managed to feel mortified; he didn’t want any of those horrible messages to be received by him, let alone responded to that way. That little remaining fraction tried again to regain control, only to be shoved back as the being occupying his body massaged his powerful pecs and spoke laughing arrogantly while getting up: “Where’s my money, you fags? You won’t get shit from me if this account doesn’t start filling up!”

The next message he received was the reply he’d been waiting for—a private message from LickLuckyLarry. “Master Hunter, I’ve been one of your loyal followers for months and I want to pay a good amount to see you jerk off if it’s not too much audacity on my part.”

Henry… Hunter smiled at that message. With a smirk on his face, he replied, “Disgusting faggot. Of course, it’s a hell of a lot of audacity for a worm like you to ask me that! But it’s you pathetic beings that keep my wallet full. I’m willing to accept, but it’ll depend on how much you’re willing to pay for all this!” he replied, grinning wickedly as his hands roamed over his abs and thighs, tentatively close to his cock.

“Master, please,” the guy replied, “I’d do anything to see you work that giant cock until it explodes with your alpha jizz.”

“Great, let’s talk privately; don’t turn on the camera! I don’t wanna see that faggot face of yours, it’ll be hard enough to jerk off knowing a worm like you is watching! And as for the rest of you, take note, faggots, you should all aspire to be like him.”

He leaned forward and closed the live window, before before lying down in his bed and focusing on talking privately in his smartphone with the guy willing to pay to see him play with his own cock. “I said I didn’t wanna see that pathetic face of yours, faggot,” he said upon seeing the man’s face appear on the app chat screen.

“Sorry, Master Hunter, I couldn’t help it; I promise to pay you a much bigger sum, but I wanted to know if you remember me?”

“And why the hell would I remember a pathetic faggot like you?” Hunter asked with a wicked grin.

“Because I work with your dad and… you… you let me suck your cock at the last company holiday party!”

“And? You’re not the first little bitch I’ve let do that! There’s no shame in showing off a bit or even letting one of you kind pay for a blowjob in the absence of something better. And that whore secretary didn’t want to give me any… Anyway, don’t think you’ll get a discount just because you know my old man, and if you try to blackmail me, I’ll use these weapons to smother you in a way way different from what that other faggot wanted!”

“No, Master Hunter… it’s not that… it’s just that you look so much like your dad! You’re a twenty-years-younger copy of him… I… I’ll pay you a bigger sum… but can you refer to yourself as Master Rusty while you jerk off?”

“So you have a fetish for my old man, huh? You sick fuck! But I’m cool with that! Just keep that ugly mug off the screen and don’t you dare talk to me while I do what needs to be done!”

“Thanks, Master Rusty… just one more thing, that mustache you’re growing makes you look even more like your dad… if I may be so bold, I’d say you should keep it.”

“I’ve allowed too much boldness, you worm. Now let’s wrap this up. Camera off,” Hunter said as he laid back on the bed, the camera aimed at him.

“So you want a piece of old Rusty, huh? You little shit?” Hunter teased, while Henry’s little voice tried to fight against the wave of mockery and arrogance filling his mind.

“A new chance to suck that cock? Only in your dreams.” He continued, with vivid memories of orgies with various women and dozens of live streams and videos for desperate gay guys into humiliation flooding his mind.

“You can look and admire, you can worship me from a distance, but this here, this here you’ll never have again pathetic faggot,” he concluded before exploding with a huge load that covered his entire abdomen.

“Thanks for the grand, loser.”

He ended the call and saved a copy of the video showing only the upper part of his body, teasing the release the full presentation for his fans after they donated a good chunk of cash.

As he lay back down, distracted, thinking about the bizarre situation with a coworker of his dad’s and what Old Rusty would think if he found out where the money supporting his son extravagant lifestyle and his monthly allowances was coming from. In that moment of distraction what remained of Henry inside him made one last attempt to surface, somehow managing to miraculously regain a bit of control. Thinking about how to fix this, Henry looked at his body; however, he seemed… normal. His enormous size 15 feet were giving off a potent funk as always. His well-developed calves giving way to tree trunk thighs, while hanging between them was his pride, his massive 10-inch cock, with which he toyed a bit before continuing his investigation. His abs were chiseled like an 8-brick wall, and just above them were the two slabs of flesh that were his pecs. He grabbed his phone and opened the camera, seeing his face; indeed, a near-exact copy of his dad’s face, square and masculine. The overall impression was one of arrogance and disdain, which precisely defined his personality.

He dropped the phone and smiled, satisfied, as he rested his head on his powerful arms. “Damn, Hunter, you’re one hot piece of ass,” he said to himself. “These faggots will never get tired of you,” he concluded, knowing that with a body and a cock like his, money would never be a problem.

Hundreds of miles away from Hunter’s dorm, Larry was finishing up his third or fourth jerk-off session, this time looking at the gif that served as Hunter’s profile picture on the app. That, he thought, was the best decision he’d ever made, seeing the perfect copy of Rusty that Hunter had become, a copy willing to treat him in the degrading way he’d dreamed for months that his dad would do. As he reached orgasm, remembering all the insults and humiliations, he wondered to himself if there was a chance that the son of one of the other coworkers would fall into the same trap; well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, especially if the reward was as delicious as Hunter.

[ivesambrose]

NOVEMBER 2024 MINI MESSAGES ❤️

1. 2. 3.

And we're in November and I feel everyone's a little overwhelmed, but I intend that you receive the guidance you need.

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Picture 1

You feel like you're struggling to make it up hill and maybe you're point blank exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. The theme of this month for you to lighten the burden you've been carrying in hopes that someone will lighten it. That someone is you. This month also calls for physical rest. I will admit there might be moments you'll feel like you have a bunch of stuff to sort out that do leave you feeling tired but trust that yourself to prioritise you. Take care of your back health some of you. You may also feel a bit emotionally distant or just plain bored or even be deep in contemplation as though you're missing something. However, I see a burst of new ideas, insights or information or clarity that lets you leave that apathetic energy you had been previously feeling, behind. It's as though out of the blue, the path clears. This month brings a positive transition which means you have to leave something behind. But what you do leave behind, won't be a loss. November ends on a more emotionally fulfulling month than it started on. Now whatever fulfills you emotionally, is innately personal to you. Trust that you'll have it and even if you can't right now, know that things will fall in place anyway.

Picture 2

Don't often say this, but it's truly your month if you're the 'I'll channel every emotion in me into getting everything done and becoming the best.' and even if you're someone who believes that slow and steady will win the race, it's still your month. You'll be working diligently into improving an aspect or multiple aspects of your life or just working hard towards your goals. By this I mean that you'll show up, you'll be consistent and you will improve. You've always been good at this now you'll be better and eventually great. Expect the rewards of your labour, especially financially. Be as ambitions as you wish to be instead of diluting yourself. If you can mentally the paint the picture then you can have it. Just make sure to not overwork and overwhelm yourself. You will be attracting influential individuals but also people who have an addictive or controlling personality, stay wary of those and keep your boundaries intact. Bit by bit, all your efforts, the dominant thoughts you have, what you say to yourself and others, what you share, what you consume etc all of it will add up. This month ends with you feeling like "A brand new person" and yes, I am referencing the Tame Impala song.

Picture 3

Oh you're fired up this month to the point even you're amused by it. Either it's a sudden burst of energy you'll feel or an opportunity that will be presented to you. You'll also be feeling excited, eager, curious and creative. Lot of planning, lot of risk taking, like you've decided to put your foot down on regards to something and you will be rather defensive of it because I'm seeing maybe some people might want to project their own ideas or limitations onto you or downplay your enthusiasm and determination. Don't let that get to you. In fact, do not overwhelm yourself this month since there is a risk of feeling burnt out. Try not to be too hot headed either and also avoid shopping as therapy (not too much, you can treat yourself though!) I do see there will be someone warm, kind and empathetic towards you. Extremely loving and understanding. Have the same energy towards yourself and those who care for you. Keep your heart a little open too. This month will end on you over coming a rather low point of your life is what I'm sensing. There's a feeling of isolation and defeat that you'll be overcoming and stepping into a version of you that's passionate and wants to experience life to their fullest.