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mononijikayu · 1 day

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“If i am with you” — gojo satoru.

This is what he’d like life to always be like, he told himself. This is why he went out there and did his thing. Why he bothered with trying to change everything from within, why he was gathering allies for his vision. This was his hope. This was what he wanted, what everyone deserved. He was glad. To have a place that was his. A place to be Satoru. Not the strongest. Not Gojo Satoru. He just wanted to be who he was in these four walls. The father, the husband, the friend, the hugger, the joker, the cook, the man of the house. This is what he wanted. This is who he is.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: if i am with you from the jujutsu kaisen s2 soundtrack

NOTE: i was supposed to publish this yesterday but i got distracted by the s2 of house of the dragon and crying about rhaenyra and jace and luke. i love them so muchhhhhh. but to comfort myself, i thought about what we would satoru do on father's day. and i thought about this. happy father's day, satoru!!! and to all your fathers and father figures, happy belated father's day!!! i love you!!! <3

addendum: i also started a ko-fi. im still deciding what should be there, but this is not going to be by tier, because its not fair i dont offer something in return. so until then, im just announcing and telling you that i only have one ko-fi~

masterlist

u s and t h e m

YOU DON’T THINK YOU EVER HAD TROUBLE GIVING GIFTS. For all occasions, you seemed to be the best at it. Everyone of your colleagues would say you knew them too well when they opened their presents. But you were stumped this time around. You don’t remember any time in your life where you ever failed at knowing what to give someone for father’s day.

Your father always liked what you gave him, especially ones you worked hard to make. You still remember when your father passed, you found all the father’s day cards and trinkets you’ve made him over the years. He especially loved the mewtwo one you gave him, during his last father’s day. That one he kept on his Jujutsu uniform when he passed.

But this time around, you think you really do not know what to give a first time father for his special day. Father’s Day was coming up, and you wanted it to be special. It was Satoru's first Father's Day as Satoshi's father, and you wanted to make sure it was memorable. Being a father was Satoru’s favorite thing about himself. And you wanted it to be great.

You shifted things over and over for the past month. You had pinterest boards of cute little arts and crafts. You had special sweet dishes he wanted to try. You had those little ads about the best gifts to give fathers on their special day. But nothing really was peaking your interest. They’re good but they’re not great. And your husband deserved great, nothing less.

You wanted to give him the very best, because he gives you everything. He was there the moment Satoshi was born, he was there the moment you and him took guardianship of Megumi and Tsumiki. He was always doing what he could, from always doing everything when he was around to making sure he spends time with the kids when he had time off, most especially on family Sunday.

But as days passed — there was nothing that stuck as being the great thing that one could give to the best father you know. You pouted as you slapped the top of your head lightly. You’ve dug through everything and anything in your brain for days and days and here you were, panicking as two days remained before that special day. You had to come up with something before he got home. As you pondered over what to do, your thoughts were interrupted by Megumi.

“Hey, can you help me with something?” he asked, holding a piece of paper.

You blinked at Megumi and nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’m trying to draw a family tree for school….”

“Uh huh….”

“But……. I don’t know much about my mom….or my dad.” He reveals to you, face echoing a scarlet fluster. “And I don’t….really know much about the Zenin clan.”

Your heart ached for him. Megumi didn’t know your Toji nii–sama, his own father, nor did he know much about his mother. You wondered sometimes how you were robbed of your father at such a young age, but you look at Megumi and Tsumiki and you wonder how it was for them. Because you at least remembered your beloved father. And they did not have that luxury.

Megumi has had a hard time trying to remember the past. And you can’t blame him or Tsumiki. His mother passed away soon after he was born. Megumi was three when Toji nii–sama left them with that woman he remarried. And only a year or two later, she too disappeared. The world was stacked against the two of them.

You sighed, crossing your arms. You don’t even think it would be good to talk about the family you had grown up with either. The only ones truly worth liking are Mai and Maki. The rest were not worth noting.

After all, the Zenin clan’s history was complicated and often painful. None truly needed to know more than those words. You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. The memories of Toji nii–sama were bittersweet, filled with both love and sorrow too. And that’s not something you were ready to talk about.

Before you could decide, Tsumiki walked in with a small smile. “Gen–san! Do we have any paint? I need it for a project.”

You and Megumi blink before you returned her smile and went to search the drawers. “You need help with the project,’miki?”

“No, thank you, Gen–san.” She grins at you waving her hands. “You don’t need to, I can do it!”

“You sure?”

“One hundred present.”

You handed her a small box of paints. “Here you go, ‘miki.”

She smiled brightly. “Thanks!” She hurried off, leaving you alone with Megumi again.

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the memory lane. You slowly started explaining some of the Zenin family history to Megumi, being careful not to overwhelm him with too many details. The one thing you didn’t want to do was to cause him some trouble with all of this. He’s still a kid. He would be fine with trying to know this when he’s a bit older.

“The Zenin family is one of the three great sorcerer families. Your father, Toji, was... unique among them. He’s my father’s cousin, so that makes me his first cousin, once removed. But he was like a brother to me.”

“First cousin once removed? What does that mean?”

“It means we’re one generation away in relation.” You pointed it out to him on the paper. “Because he and my dad were born from siblings, they are cousins. I am his first cousin.”

He narrowed his eyes, as though trying to understand. “Then what does that make me, you and ‘miki?”

“First cousins twice removed, for me to you.” You tell him, pointing again on the paper. “But since your dads are brothers, you guys are first cousins. But there’s two generations between me and both of you.”

“And then what’s Maki-san and Mai-san to you, me and ‘miki?”

“Maki and Mai are your second aunt, they’re born from your second grand uncle.” You say to him, trying to focus to not forget details. “Maki and Mai are my…..first cousins once removed, like your dad. ‘miki and you are their second nephew and niece.”

“Since your father was their cousin?”

“Yeah, That’s right, that’s right.”

Megumi listened intently, absorbing the information. You could see him trying to piece together the fragmented bits of his past. As he started drawing his family tree, you guided him, filling in names and relationships where you could. You talked about Toji nii-sama and his wife, but only briefly. You think it would be best if he asks you about it one day. You don’t want to push much on him. The Zenin family tree was already a lot to deal with.

“Is that all you need from me, ‘gumi?” You asked him as he started to finish up his work and he nodded at you.

“Thank you for taking the time to help me, Gen-san.” You grinned at him, rubbing his head as he pouted. “You didn’t have to rub my head like that. What if I grow bald?”

“Then we’ll figure out if Shoko can use the reverse curse technique on your hair!”

As you finished helping Megumi clean up the papers, your thoughts drifted back to Father’s Day. You still had time to plan something special for Satoru, seeing as he would probably come back tomorrow. Seeing Megumi’s determination and curiosity reminded you of the importance of perseverance. You’ll get that great present for him—

“Yahoo~”

You felt your eye twitch for some reason. Your husband, Gojo Satoru waved as he removed his bandages and took his dark rimmed glasses and wore them. He grinned at everyone from the genkan. You didn’t know he’d be back this soon. As soon as he stepped away from the genkan with his house slippers, he was greeted by the sight of Satoshi crawling towards him, his little face lighting up with a big smile. Satoshi had long abandoned his little blocks—his interest now was greeting his beloved father. Satoru picked him up, lifting him high into the air, making Satoshi giggle with delight.

“Hey there, little guy!” Satoru cooed, nuzzling his son with a loving gaze.

You emerged from the kitchen, surprised to see him. “You’re home early!”

“Yeah, it was not that hard to defeat the cursed spirit this time around.” He says as you walked over to him and kissed his cheek. “So I’m here.”

“Well I’m glad you’re here, safe and sound.”

“Me too!” He cheered as he tickled your son, who laughed. “Oh, it’s good to be home with family~”

“Oh, you remember about ‘miki’s performance tomorrow, right?”

Satoru grinned. “Of course I remember! One of the reasons I even came home early. Wouldn’t miss singing ‘miki sing her heart out~”

Just then, Tsumiki came rushing in. “Satoru-san! You’re home!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Satoru crouched down to hug her properly with his free arm, with a smile. “Of course I am! I wouldn’t miss your performance for anything.”

Tsumiki beamed with excitement, her eyes sparkling. “I’m so happy you’re here! I can’t wait for you to see me sing tomorrow.”

After a moment, Satoru stood up and spotted Megumi in the corner of the room, looking stressed. “Hey, Megumi,” he greeted, concern evident in his voice. “Everything okay?”

You stepped in, explaining, “He’s still having a hard time digesting how we’re related. He asked for help in the family tree project for school. It’s been a bit overwhelming.”

“Oh? You mean the Zenin family tree?” He snickered back at you. “It’s a whole mess of a knot, isn’t it, ‘gumi?”

You lightly hit his arm. “Hey, its just as bad as the Gojo–Mikoto family tree!”

“It’s not my fault our ancestors liked each other.” You gasped at him.

“Satoru, not in front of the kids!”

“I mean….you and I are related too—”

“La la la, we shouldn’t be talking anymore–”

“You guys are so loud.” Megumi frowns as he crosses his arms on his chest.

Satoru walked over to Megumi and ruffled his hair gently. “Don’t worry, Megumi. You don’t have to worry. You finally got out of the family knot—”

“You’re insufferable, Satoru!”

“Hey, it’s not wrong if it's true!”

“Oh, I think the food's done!”

“This is going to be a long night.”

YOU STILL DIDN’T HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR YOUR PRESENT. You wished you could hit your head on the wall, to try and get an answer. But it would hurt and you would start crying even more. So you opted to suffer in silence. Satoru wanted to be early, because he feared he’ll miss the performance.

So, you all head to the school together. Gojo Satoshi happily giggled as he was nestled in the baby carrier strapped to Satoru's chest, gurgling with delight at the new surroundings. At least your baby was the cutest boy in the world. He’s so beautiful in your husband’s arms.

As you walk, your mind races with. You still didn’t know what to give Satoru for Father’s Day, despite texting Shoko, Nanami, and even his wife for ideas. Nothing seemed quite right. Shoko suggested making a cake for Satoru but you do that all the time already. Nanami and his wife suggested making mochi but your husband buys that all the time already too.

You could feel a heaviness in you. What do you think is worthy to give as a gift to the best father in the whole world? You still didn’t know and that frustrates you. When have you ever been this stumped over a present?

“Are you okay?” Satoru asks, noticing your distraction.

You force a smile. “I’m fine, just a bit nervous. It’s my first time attending a much bigger school function like this. Well…for the kids.”

He gives you a reassuring smile and squeezes your hand. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll not mind that you’re nervous.”

“Maybe you’re right…..” You let out a gruntled sigh.

“I’m always right, darling~”

“Uh, uh, don’t push it.”

As you arrive in the auditorium, you find your seats among the other parents. The school’s auditorium buzzed with excitement, people were whispering and talking with one another. Many parents took time off to cheer for their kids too, you think.

Satoru whispered to Satoshi, about how he should cheer for Tsumiki when she comes out. You smiled at them as you look at the stage. You don’t know when Tsumiki was going to be up. But there’s quite a few teams in her grade, after all.

Each team that came sung a song that they made themselves. It was quite impressive, seeing young kids just being so lively and artistic. Jujutsu High didn’t really have much of these things, and even then, you and Satoru really didn’t attend any schooling outside your own clan’s comforts until you were of age to attend Jujutsu High.

So both of you were going to enjoy this, enjoying watching these kids have better joys than you ever had. Satoru was quite excited, clapping along and soon followed by your son who was also giggling and clapping along with his father.

Then when it finally came time, you immediately spot Tsumiki as she giggles nervously. She comes out with her team. Tsumiki shyly sent a wave, which made her pigtails bounce slightly. She was happy to see that you were both there. Your husband waved back, enthusiastically. You smiled as you waved too. But then Satoru immediately cheers, his voice booming with pride.

“That’s my kid!” Satoru shouts proudly, his eye glasses nearly falling off. Everyone was looking at you all. “You guys, isn’t she pretty?”

“Satoru, sit down!”

“But ‘miki looks cool! I wanna hype her up!”

“But she’s about to perform!”

The music starts and the auditorium turns dark. The lighting starts on cue and Tsumiki is the first to sing. You were in awe as she started mixing that with dancing too. Satoru immediately pulled his phone out and started recording with excited giggles. But it was quick to notice how he started to shift.

When he suddenly goes quiet, eyes wide with surprise. On the back of Tsumiki’s shirt, in those bright glittery bold letters, is written, "Gojo Tsumiki." Satoru glances around, noticing that all the other kids have their last names printed on their shirts too.

Tsumiki stops at the side as attention goes to another member of her group. Tsumiki waves at Satoru, her smile brilliantly radiant. Overcome with emotion, Gojo Satoru turns his head and buries his face in Satoshi’s tiny shoulder. Satoshi lets out a sound as though asking his dad if he was alright. You sighed, patting his shoulder.

You lean in, whispering, “Are you crying?”

His voice muffled, he replies, “No, I’m not.”

After the performance, Fushiguro Tsumiki runs over to greet you both, her face glowing with happiness to have spotted you. They won the top spot today, when Satoru was the loudest for. She was waving her medal as she rushed over to you both. You take Satoshi from Satoru, freeing him to hug Tsumiki tightly.

“You were amazing out there, kid.” Satoru says, his voice thick with pride. “I’m so proud of you.”

Tsumiki smiles up at him. “Thank you, Satoru-san!”

“You didn’t have to do that, you know! I was surprised, you wore my name on your back.”

“But I wanted to.” She beams at your husband shyly. “I can’t legally change my name, but I wanted everyone to see your name on my shirt, Satoru-san. After all, you’re the dad I have.”

Satoru starts to thank her, but his words become a jumble of emotions. Warm tears stream down his face, and you realize Tsumiki too started crying and wiping her tears. You let out a small sigh and smiled at them. You quickly pull out a tissue wrap and gently wipe Satoru and Tsumiki’s cheeks.

“Thank you for this, ‘miki.” he finally manages to say. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

She beams, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I’m glad you liked it, Satoru-san.”

“I’m going to go and hang up that shirt in a frame, okay? I’m gonna put it in my office!”

Tsumiki grinned. “I’ll be happy every time I see it there!”

“Me too!” Your husband cried with joy.

“Gugah!” Gojo Satoshi joined in.

“Yeah, what he said!”

SATOSHI WAS FALLING ASLEEP. Satoru cooed as he cradled him back and forth, humming to your little son as he was trying to get him to sleep. Satoshi was getting cranky by the end of the picture taken for the group and when you noticed, Satoru refused to hand your little son to you. He said that he was making much of what time he had your little dawn. If he had to fall asleep, it would be in his arms. You didn’t have the heart to deny your husband, because you could see the love in his eyes shining through. And so you let him do as he pleased as you and Tsumiki sat down on the bench together.

As the program concluded, Tsumiki’s class was told that the rest of the day was to be dismissed. Since it would be time to prepare for the first term exams next month, they thought a day break is not going to be too bad. Coincidentally, it was also already nearly time to pick up Megumi. So, you decided to wait outside his classroom until his class was over.

You were mulling over what would be a good dinner today, so you were trying to remember what you had in your fridge. Tsumiki had some suggestions and you took them in mind, but she was having cravings for something hot. And you kept thinking a spicy hot pot was going to be good. But a good question would be if your husband could take the spice. He really isn’t one to tolerate things he didn’t like. And every time you ate something spicy together, he seemed to not be as bothered.

It wasn't long before the bell rang in the school and you could see Megumi emerging, looking flustered. His hands were tightly pressed against his backpack straps. You quickly stood up, to take his school bag from him, but he pouts and tells you off softly. You nodded at him and ruffled up his hair tenderly with a small smile.

Satoru was quick to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Megumi replied swiftly, and sensing his reluctance to talk, no one pressed further.

Tsumiki sang as she opened the door into the house. Satoshi was found asleep in the carrier while you started to tell the kids to go get some rest before they showered. You went to the fridge immediately while your husband settled your little dawn down. Satoru emerged from the nursery and smiled at you when he immediately suggested hotpot, a cozy meal perfect for the occasion, and since Tsumiki was craving something spicy, you could just add some togarashi on her bowl.

As you and Satoru were talking in the kitchen about how grateful you were for the kids and what you guys should do tomorrow since it was still an off day, you felt Megumi approaching you. You looked at him as he pulled at your shirt. He lowered his gaze, his cheeks round and red. He opens his mouth but he doesn’t say anything. Satoru watches as he mouths towards you, asking what's going on. But you shook your head, not knowing what to say. Megumi gathered up his courage and then slowly placed a placard from his hands to yours. You could tell he was a bit hesitant to even hand it to you.

“I didn’t think it was right to submit in a Zenin family tree.” Megumi began, his voice steady but quiet. “I barely know them.”

You and Satoru looked at the placard together. It was simple, but it was colorful enough that you could call it lively. You could tell Megumi did it, it was his style. He likes beauty in simplicity. The tree was big enough to encompass all the information that he knew about each and everyone on the tree. Just as much, tender pictures that were neatly placed.

On it, Megumi had written that you were his mom and Satoru was his dad. Tsumiki was listed as his elder sister, and Satoshi as his younger brother. The simplicity and honesty of it touched your heart deeply. On the top, he wrote, ‘my family’ in that neat lettering that you had grown so fond of.

“I had to discuss my family tree and talk about my family,” Megumi explained bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m not gonna talk about strangers.”

You and Satoru looked at one another, eyes glossy with striking tears that were threatening to fall. When did you both deserve such beautiful happiness? What could you have both possibly done that made you both worthy of the love these kids have given you? You smiled at Megumi, looking at the placard again.

Satoru’s eyes softened as he pulled Megumi into a hug, ruffling his hair with a laugh. “I’m so proud of you, Megumi. You’re right, family is about who’s there for you.”

Megumi mumbled, “Stop hugging me so tightly.” but there was no real resistance in his voice.

Satoru chuckled, “I just want to hug my son.”

“‘am not your son—”

“Too late, the placard says it. We’re adopting you!”

“We should have this framed.” You say as you gently touch the placard with a grin. “I’m putting it in the living room.”

“Please don’t do it.”

“Oh wifey, that’s a great idea!”

“It’s really not.”

“Not valid to your dad, son!”

IT WAS AN ENJOYABLE TIME AFTER THAT. Your beloved little dawn Gojo Satoshi woke up just as dinner was finishing, and the whole family came back out and sat on the table all together to enjoy a lovely meal. The atmosphere was warm and filled with laughter and it was how it should always be. The meal was delicious. Tsumiki was right about the spice. It tasted good on yosenabe. As you predicted, Satoru didn’t like the spice and opted for some soy sauce. Megumi was satisfied with the taste without any condiments.

Dinner together was never quiet. Satoru made many jokes today, almost half of which are dad jokes. Megumi felt bashful about them, but you knew that he liked them. Satoshi and Tsumiki giggled at each and every one of Satoru’s little quips. You laughed too, until it hurt your cheeks to do so. If there was anyone who could be the light in the home, the one who makes life ever so beautiful, it would be your husband.

As you ate your mushrooms over the dashi, as Megumi drank his cup of orange juice, as Tsumiki grabbed a bite of her little pudding, Satoru couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and contentment. He had never imagined having a family this warm and loving, but here it was, a reality that he cherished deeply.

After dinner, the kids played for a long while. Satoshi had the most fun, trying to force himself to stand up. Megumi was making sure that he was not gonna fall, Tsumiki was excited to see Satoshi walk towards them. But the excitement also died down and everyone went to watch a movie. Tonight was Satoru’s pick and he chose Monsters vs. Aliens. He enjoyed it quite a lot, as much as the kids did. Satoshi had a blast copying the facial expressions of Insectosaurus which cracked Satoru up for hours.

But now the older kids had gone and went to bed, and Satoshi was playing with his puzzle pieces just behind the couch. The rest of the night was you and Satoru both staying up to tidy up the house. It was already midnight by the time you finished. Both of you lunged together on the couch, exhausted. Satoshi, now disinterested with the puzzle, went and played with his squishy toys.

You looked at the clock and then to your husband Satoru and, with a hint of regret in your voice, said, “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything for Father’s Day.”

Satoru looked at you and snickered. He shook his head and pulled you into a gentle embrace. “You don’t need to apologize, darling. You’ve given me everything I could ever want for Father’s Day. You made all of this possible.”

“But I just….I wanted to give you something great.”

He looked into your eyes, his expression filled with love and gratitude. “You already have given me something great. You gave me a home, warmth, and the loveliest family. It’s everything, darling. It’s more than anyone could ask for in this life.”

“I love you, my love. More than you know.”

Cerulean eyes met your lilac. “I love you too, darling. More than life itself.”

You hit his hand lightly. “You keep one upping me.”

He laughs. “I have to make sure you know I’m the one who loves you the most.”

“I already do.”

“And I’ll tell you everyday.”

“I should hope so.”

“Until we’re old and wrinkled.”

You laugh. “Is that going to be your case, handsome?”

“I reckon I’ll always be handsome.”

You sigh at him lovingly. “You always will be.”

Satoru kissed your cheek. “Thank you for being the light of my home. I wouldn’t be the father I am without you by my side.”

“And I wouldn’t be the mother I am without you.”

“If I am with you, it will be happiness.” He whispers under his breath. “If I am with you, I’m going to be alive.”

“You make me fall in love with you over and over.”

He grins at you. “That’s the point. For all of our lives and even beyond that, darling.”

You hugged him tighter, feeling the strength and sincerity of his words. In that quiet, tender moment, you realized that the best gifts are often not material but the love and support we give each other every day. As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and fulfillment.

You had your family all together.

With all its warmth and love, this was it.

This was truly the greatest gift of all.

As long as you were with him, it was alright.

Life would be the best there ever was.

epilogue

You were preparing to get to bed, but Satoshi was being rowdy, and the morning sun was already beginning to peek through the windows. Satoru, seeing how tired you were, gently told you, “Go to bed. I’ll meet you there once Satoshi’s asleep.”

Grateful for his understanding, you nodded and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water helped soothe your tired muscles, and you felt more relaxed as you got ready for bed.

Meanwhile, Satoru was cradling Satoshi, rocking him gently in his arms. Satoshi, still full of energy, reached for his papa’s face, his tiny fingers patting Satoru’s cheeks. He giggled, his eyes bright and mischievous.

Satoru smiled down at him, murmuring softly, “Come on, little guy, it’s time to sleep.”

Satoshi started babbling, his sounds turning into something more distinct. Suddenly, he said, “Dada.”

Both you and Satoru’s eyes went wide in surprise and delight. You had just stepped out of the bathroom when you heard it. A smile broke across your face, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Did he just say...?” you began, looking at Satoru.

“Yeah, he did,” Satoru replied, his cerulean eyes shining with pride and happiness. “Satoshi said his first word!”

You walked over to them, and Satoru pulled you into the embrace, Satoshi nestled between you both. “His first word on Father’s Day,” Satoru whispered, emotion thick in his voice. “It’s perfect.”

You kissed Satoshi’s forehead and then Satoru’s cheek, feeling a profound sense of joy. “Happy Father’s Day, Satoru. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

As the morning sun continued to rise, you finally crawled into bed, feeling the comforting presence of Satoru beside you. Satoshi was peacefully asleep in his crib, the excitement of the early morning finally wearing him out.

You turned to Satoru, who was lying on his side, his eyes still glowing with the joy of Satoshi’s first word. “You know,” you said softly, “I couldn’t have planned a better Father’s Day gift than this.”

Satoru smiled, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. “I don’t think anything could top that. Hearing him say ‘Dada’ for the first time… it’s just perfect.”

You both lay there for a moment, soaking in the tranquility of the morning and the profound happiness that filled the room. “I’ve been thinking about how to show you how much you mean to us,” you confessed, “but seeing you with the kids, seeing how much they love you, that’s what really matters.”

Satoru pulled you closer, his warmth enveloping you. “You’ve given me everything I could ever want. This family, our home, the love we share… It's more than I ever imagined. Thank you for making it all possible.”

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “We did it together, Satoru. We built this life together.”

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering as if to imprint the moment in his memory. “And we’ll keep building it, one day at a time.”

The peaceful silence stretched on, and slowly, exhaustion began to claim you. As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a deep sense of contentment and love. The morning had brought an unexpected gift, one that underscored the beauty of the family you had created.

Satoru held you close, his thoughts echoing yours. He watched as you fell asleep, his heart full of gratitude and love. For him, this Father’s Day was not just about a celebration—it was a reminder of the journey you had taken together, the hardships you had overcome, and the beautiful life you had built.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, filling the room with a warm glow, Satoru finally closed his eyes, ready to join you in sleep. The house was quiet, filled with the peaceful breaths of a family deeply connected by love and the promise of many more joyful moments to come.

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brujamala-aka-gigi · 22 hours

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a tarot reading just in case you need to remember this: it's okay to be a bitch.

we all know good vibes, kindness and empathy are amazing traits and etc BUT... there's shitty people who don't deserve that and some of us can't pretend like we are not full of anger. "negative" emotions are just as valid as "positive" ones, they contribute to our growth and our character, and they also keep us same from further harm.

pile 1 pile 2 pile 3

pick a pile and let's find out what type of "bitch" behavior can bring something good to your life.

MASTERPOST & PAID SERVICES

xoxo gigi <3

images from pinterest and dividers by @ithemes

plz excuse the shit quality pictures of the cards, i'm working on that but i didn't realize how bad they were until i uploaded them :(

btw I'm doing a poll so you can pick a day when its convenient for you and me to do an ask game on here, answer some questions with my tarots and give away readings from my menu.

Pile Number One

Hello there! So, the cards on this reading are mostly “positive” if we take a superficial approach, and ignore the prompt of this reading. What I see here is that, although there’s a sense of brightness, joy and enthusiasm that is typically associated with your identity, there’s a lot of your inner world that it’s not getting any chances to be manifested into your daily life. I think many people assume you are happier than you actually feel, and many people think the joys and blessings of your life came to you out of nowhere, they think you’re naturally successful, when in reality you are quite the hard worker. Nobody likes to be realistic in the struggle to achieve anything, so it's understandable to some extent that people are not seeing the actual strength and patience that it took you to be where you are.

Personally, I think that sometimes it’s really hard to fight back against misconceptions on how hard do we actually have to work in order to get something, it’s even harder when people don’t allow you to express anger, and belittle any feeling that it’s not as comfortable to be around as your usual “good vibes”. You are the type of person who everyone is too lazy to understand beyond their own romantic ideas of you. Don’t let others dehumanize you like that, you are a person, not a secondary character in someone’s love life, or the sweet innocent sidekick, or the girl next door, or whatever. Embrace everything that makes you complex and misunderstood, as these are the things that will bring you closer to people who are actually interested in your true self.

But, there’s absolutely nothing wrong if you’re being strategic about who gets to see your most genuine version and who doesn’t. I see a lot of prosperity for you in the future, and you might not be able to appreciate this now, but your career choices will make you quite happy eventually. Take a lot of time to reflect on the people you want to keep around you, trust your intuition and prioritize your mental health, don’t be afraid to communicate your emotions in ways that others might find uncomfortable, in the worst case, by doing this you will find out who actually deserves your time and energy. And please, don’t fall for the first person who shows any kind of romantic interest, this is not a great moment for you to deal with a relationship, as there’s some emotional work to do first. Be persistent with how you take care of yourself, be patient and kind to you in the same way you are with others.

Pile Number Two

What I’m seeing a lot on these cards is a lack of closure and proper communication about it. I’m not necessarily talking about a situation that hasn’t been settled yet, but more so about the fact that you are able to perceive things deeper than the average person and whenever you can, you do go ahead and take the actions necessary in order to get things going in the way you know best. You are someone who moves quickly and efficiently, but others who are more dogmatic in their ways are beginning to find issue with this, forcing you to conform to spaces where everyone knows you are too overqualified to be in.

I don’t think you are someone who is submissive or someone who allows people to walk all over you, but I see that you’re trying to find less conflictive approaches to issues and situations that you are used to solving in more explosive ways. Behaving in a more “diplomatic” or “assertive” way is not exactly what works for you, but at this point it is necessary that you learn to tolerate being put in this position. I don’t see you losing your values or your ideals, not even your personal strength. But I am concerned that you might be doubting yourself with things that are so bonded to your nature that you haven’t even thought twice about so far, and rightly so! You’re lucky that your determination and passionate ways, even when proving an inconvenience to others who don’t get it, has been channeled in such proactive ways.

At this point, all I can tell you is that whenever you are being forced to remain in stagnation due to self doubt, you shouldn't attribute this to your lack of will to stick to norms and traditions, but more so, this situations happen because people around you need to catch up with what you already saw and processed. This means that many times you will have to choose between waiting or moving on by yourself. Be strategic about this, and always make sure that there are comfortable places for when you need to reflect and relax. Yes, many things have gone right for you by moving impulsively and following your gut, but imagine how much more you could accomplish if you took some time to plan.

There’s nothing wrong with your creativity thriving in chaotic environments, there’s nothing wrong with being confrontational and hot headed, absolutely nothing bad about being perceived as hot headed and impulsive… just be more mindful on how to channel these parts of yourself.

Pile Number 3

Okay, this is a complex set of cards for a complex and sensitive person. What I'm seeing here is this sort of nostalgia other people have for a version of you that was painful to live for yourself. I think plenty of people were feeling too comfortable with you when you were not on top of your game or working towards your own personal happiness. I feel like you are now beginning to find new ways of questioning and deconstructing ideas and actions that are no longer serving your deeper desires, and you are sharing this with people who are not willing to join you in this path, while also alienating you from your own power to manifest into existence the person you want to become.

As you are beginning to move away from spaces of comfort that were designed for a weakened version of yourself, you will realize there’s plenty of facades and deceitful half truths. It’s a shame that all you have during this moment is your own emotional intelligence and a well justified sense of hope, nobody should face things like this on their own. But being realistic, solitude is a strength in your case, and you will soon find out that this journey was meant to give you consciousness about the powers and strength, many have tried to hide from you in order for them to keep the spotlight.

Don’t let others force you into being someone who is only an ornament or a tool for keeping a facade. Even if you are naturally generous, kind, empathetic, and altruistic, it’s not a betrayal of those values to focus on growing outside places that don’t deserve all your sensitivity. This is a moment where you will find plenty of personal characteristics that many have ignored or belittled, cultivate those and nurture your ability to exist on your own terms. You have more control than you think, and far more tools than you imagine. It takes bravery and intellect to take the steps you are taking into finding new ways of being yourself, while also being celebrated and respected.

Always remember that many times, others will make you believe something crucial to you is a defect, or a disadvantage, but it’s up to you if you’re taking into consideration the thoughts of someone who doesn’t know why you are who you are, and who you are trying to be. (You shouldn't).

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crystalandbow · 1 day

Text

WHAT LESSON ARE YOU CURRENTLY LEARNING 👀🩰

-pac edition (3 piles)

For entertainment purposes only

PILE 1

I hope you are having a great day🎀

let us dissect & discuss the image you have chosen (swans)

no cards today😭 *experimental reading*

firstly, what you are learning rn is related to trust, bondings and friendships (for few it could be about trusting your family members)

it isn't about romantic love (so far, even though the image can relate to love, but i am not picking up anything like that so far)

for those that felt called towards the 3rd pile as well, it talks about self love , appreciating one's own efforts, taking care and being gentle with your own soul.

i'm also getting the word "pause", like time has paused / everything is going slow and you are just wondering whats happening, observing everything around you for answers. things might be going slow and easy, for some they find peace here.

im also getting the image of the hermit which shows: being alone, and on hilly mountainous regions) things are cold ? meaning no progress, like i said above things & progress are slow which some people are okay with since yall understand that things take time (you have understood this lesson and are now getting tested, once you pass this you'll be upgraded to the next level soon);

while for some it's stressful, unbearable, you wanna get out of this slowness and being by yourself. but that is your lesson and you need to get okay/comfortable with this feeling of being out of your comfort zone, you need to understand that you'll be okay and getting out of your shell will not always be that painful/ hurt you.

should i do more of these?

that is it for you guys! please do lmk what you think about this reading for private readings : click here! my tipping jar : click here!

PILE 2

I hope you are having a great day🎀

let us dissect & discuss the image you have chosen (the rose painting)

no cards today😭 *experimental reading*

love, straight up!

if you

so the women holding the rose is wearing the color white which symbolises purity, innocence, i m hearing the word "childlike" while being drawn towards the sun card in the tarot deck, and even pinterest lol. well the white dress + the sun card, could show how your inner child/ childhood dream is close to coming true (but that isnt really a lesson so). the sun card is alot about success for you in this story. so even success and bright/ joy in your love life. as a lesson it talk about comforting that inner child, providing it that love and care as it has been hurt from outsiders, you have been upset/sad, might even think that your love life is very bad, almost as if you have been cursed to stay away from loyalty and love but that isn't the case for MOST. it is because your inner child is so very wounded, it is sacred to interact with others because it thinks they'll hurt them and obv it will think so because honey be honest! what mental diet do you have? do you care about your inner child? do you show love to yourself? your inner child is wounded and your lesson is to show care for it, treat it like your own lil baby, take care of yourself. for yourself. otherwise even the right ones won't stay long.

have a positive diet of purity and celebrate the innocence within you, be easy! if you wonder why your life had to suffer just know that the suns shines bright because it burns like that. only when yiu go through the pain can you appreciate the love and light is my philosophy for overcoming any dark night of the soul.

have fun with your inner child, play with it & make it feel at ease so that it helps you attract better opportunities.

TAKE CARE AND BYEEE

that is it you guys! please do lmk what you think about this reading for private readings : click here! my tipping jar : click here!

should i do more of these? lmk

PILE 3

I hope you are having a great day🎀

let us dissect & discuss the image you have chosen (lipgloss)

no cards today😭 *experimental reading*

the lipgloss pile😄i was sooo excited for this specific pile. i wanna know what it is for you!

anyways lets begin

well firstly, life could be all over the place, in a mess or in chaos, im getting new york city vibes aswell, showing how life cools so cool on the outside (to other people) but in reality it is also in some mess. its fast paced and chaotic (THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF PILE 1)

your life might be all over the place and in chaos, so much that you don't know what you should focus on, you want to do everything, you are trying your hands everywhere in all fields and everywhere hoping something might work out?

this pile is all about having too much in your plate and the problem is that it isn't organised. you need to be organised, its not bad but you aren't able to focus on anything which could be creating more & more problems. im getting attention deficiency. you need to learn how to not procrastinate & to remove distractions from your life. to be more organised and to know what is good / healthy for you.

for some y'all could be a lil worried about money and want a sign/guidance about it, maybe like a conformation of whether or not you are on the right track

your lesson is to set prioritise and work on them, be focused on them and now that doing a specific task will take you closer to achieving that goal/priorities & what will take you away from your goals/ priorities.

set goals & work TOWARDS them & get out of a mess, get organised is your lesson

should i do more of these?

that is it for you guys! please do lmk what you think about this reading for private readings : click here! my tipping jar : click here!

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hoseoksluna · 4 hours

Text

BLACKBERRIES | jhs ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!hobi x berries!oc

genre: smut, angst

word count: 6.1k

summary: opening jungkook's message brought in a blessing and a curse.

pinterest board: blackberries / taglist: join

warnings: breeding kink, raw sex, hobi rubs your clit......., provider!hobi, talks of pregnancy, slight nipple play, oc cries, ruined sex and orgasm, swearing, spanking, talks of punishment, heavy daddy issues

note: i loved every minute of writing this part, so i'm happy to bring it to you, finally. it brought a lot of clarity and direction as i was writing mindlessly all this time. this series will have one or two more parts (probably two more) and then i'll finally be done writing about two members:D. i love you, guys, so much. let me know what you think. i miss you. i hope you like this as much as i do. <3

The morning has spilled in like a friend through the dusky pink curtains, casting a soft light over the place Hobi is focusing on as he’s buried in your femininity, balls-deep. Lingering there as if he was nesting at home.

You haven’t slept a wink. Neither has he, restless by your sadness-induced insomnia, zapped with consistent life by the threat that lit up your phone when drowsiness asked for your hand, longing to take you to its kingdom. If you were to become a princess, the matter was snatched away from you—or rather tossed back and forth as you drifted in and out of that threshold. Hobi suggested to you to open the attachment sent in the message, rip the skeleton out of the closet and burn it in celebration of your wedding, so you could rest… but you couldn’t. You were fearful and you lacked courage, because you knew that if you were to make your eyes the witness of what regret has forced Jungkook to do, calmness wouldn’t have been the embrace you sought.

That is, if regret was truly the wave of emotion that swam past those starlit irises of his. You don’t trust your memories anymore—they’ve become a chaos of mist that you get stuck in when you dare to wade in it. And it’s so peculiar that you have to do it willfully, instead of being wholly swallowed by them, instead of being so unfairly and awfully haunted by them that there’s nothing left for you to do but to relive the anguish over and over again.

To Hobi’s suggestion, you proposed to wait until the morning comes and the new day’s strength and possibilities greet you. You don’t really know where you found this wisp of positivity in you, but you twiddled with it all night, acknowledging yourself with it. The full moon rose up high in the blackness of the sleeping heavens, no cloud covered its magnificent light shining wistfully over the way Hobi spooned you and it gave you the notion, the whim to be as bare as it was. He had marked you with its phase, foreshadowed this flourishment with its crescent likeness on the flesh of your thigh, so you figure it’s only right that you use it when it’s right in front of you—that you complete it, make it full.

You are going to confront Jungkook. Take the other end of this blanket’s pained darkness and flip it to its other side. Let the moonlight have it as you watch, hands by your side. Let the rays sweep it clean of its thick dust until it resembles its very own face. End the relationship once and for all.

That means talking to him in a way that doesn’t correspond to the emotional violence that occurred hours ago. That means killing it with kindness, not raising your voice, nor your fists. And you wish to do it alone—without Hobi’s presence. You’re aware that if he were there, it would be proper. And not only that, he would also step in if the situation asked for it, but something tells you that this time… it’s not going to be a fight.

It’s going to be a calm conversation between two humans that used to be close.

This notion had been whispered to you the moment the light of your phone died until the sun awakened. Its voice kept you uneasy and fidgety—partly because you don’t know to whom the voice belonged to, partly because you simply don’t trust yourself. Being mean and uncompromising with him served as a shield. You don’t know what’s going to happen once you’re in a room with him all defenseless, but you have to risk it.

You’ve been feeling very intensely that it’s meant to happen.

It’s what Hobi has been feeling as well, taking your jitteriness in his grasp and kissing it away. He had begun at the nape of your neck and your shoulder and you encouraged him by closing your hand over his and leading it beneath the duvet, thinking that perhaps if you head into this direction of his holy lust, you’d find answers, you’d find instructions, words you could use later to unravel to Jungkook. You regarded his unfolding responsibility over your emotions as so terribly fatherly—grounding and validating that it aroused you; it soaked your little pajama shorts that he had dressed you in and the low gasp that reached your ears when he discovered it with the guided movement of his fingers… it felt better than any hit of the blackberry vape he bought you.

Hence why you hushed your disagreement when Hobi shifted, craving to taste you. You wanted the clasp of the connection between you and him fully shut by having him inside you, and so you reached behind yourself, grabbed that intimate part of him to stroke him, to get him fully erect, letting go of him only for a brief moment to drag your shorts and underwear down. You didn’t perceive his hesitancy until he took a hold of your hasty hand, shadowing it with his palm against your knuckles like he had done yesterday in his car.

His breath trembled before he spoke. “You’re not prepared enough for me.”

You didn’t find your words until he sank his fingers between yours, another grounding sensation washing over you as he guided your hand to the parts of his manhood that feel the most stimulating for him. The tip of his cock and down his balls, his kids that he had promised that were yours. The essence of it drenched you even more, without him knowing—the perfect picture, greater than any painting you ever saw, of him loosening himself inside of you, the hot spurts, his growls, deepened by the flaring passion, then the clicking of connection, and your belly, full and swollen, carrying a concoction of him and you that will live beyond your death.

“I can take it like this,” were your truthful words, head turned halfway to him as your side position allowed it to.

Hobi closed his mouth over your cheek in a slow, deep kiss that you’ve never experienced before. A rising tide of tears flooded your eyes and stayed there, not wanting to pour over. His care, his knowing better, his responsibility, all the principle of his fatherliness. It soothed your body, encouraged the picture in your mind to bloom with more vivid colors.

It was illogical, plain stupid to think like this within a week of knowing him, but why did it feel so right? Why did it feel like a step that didn’t waver underneath your bare feet, like the soft sand under the stable, still weight of the sea, right as a small, murmuring wave laps at the shore. Why did it feel that way? How come these thoughts never burst forth whenever Jungkook held you down and did everything that made your body call him Daddy?

Was it because sex with Hobi never felt like a playtime, but something way more serious? Something way more mature, ripened, that had that darkened, tangy flavor of blackberries. A flavor that lasted, didn’t dissipate after swallowing. Something that you’ve strongly begun to believe is able to run the course of your entire life; that has the enigma to break the curse.

Your attachment to him developed, grew a small pair of wings that curled within his chest, shivering like a newborn child. Not screaming, not crying. Quiet, calm, serene.

Your tears threatened to pour out, its former decision not to wearing out. Your emotions longed to submit, longed to rest—and you broke open the lock, longing to love yourself back.

“Let me rub your little clit and get you ready for it, pup. It’s gonna hurt if I don’t and that’s not happening under my watch,” he murmured, dragging his fingernails up your arm, flattening the pads of his fingers on the way down your breast and ribs, rooting at the overspilling pooch of your stomach—the source of your river of tears. He left gooseflesh in his wake as your liquid, freed emotions trickled down your cheeks, one that he warmed by pressing your back flush against his chest, placing the side of your head on top of yours, lips puckered in an eternal, oscillating kiss—the makeshift, heart-shaped sunlight that shines through the surface of your river.

Overwhelmed by it all, you could only nod.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make you strong, you want that?” Hobi continued, hand sneaking down your mound, your feminine flesh until he reached your heat, collecting your nectar, then drifting back up to your clit, stopping there. You writhed, your bum pushing up against him, mewling your agreement. “Spread your legs for me.”

You parted them and Hobi followed your movement with his palm, guiding you to hook one of your legs behind his, shifting you a little onto your back, giving him more space for the expansion of the eternity of his kisses. He fondled your cheek with his, acknowledging himself with your tears, forcing them to be his when he breathed them in, exhaling with a mournful sigh.

You had never been mourned before. And the feeling was too great—too, too great.

“Don’t cry, pup. I’m gonna make it right. Everything.”

He didn’t wish to fix you; he was determined to fix your life. You began to sob, your fingers finding his temple, sinking into his silky hair. Hobi waited for the halt of your liquidity, thinking it’s sadness, but your emotions didn’t bear its face. They were clothed in thankfulness and wore the face of a bride of felicity, a woman who carried dejection in her arms for her entire life, only to have been gifted joy by a man who saw her, met her and listened to his heart when it asked for her.

You placed his hand right back, where it belonged. Became aware how his fingertips were the perfect size for the swollenness of your clit, which led you to think it was created for him, for his fingers only; that no one else would ever touch it because there would be no one after him. It has become his until the end of time.

“I’m not gonna touch you when you’re crying,” Hobi whispered and you shook your head, pressing his middle finger against that sensitive part of you.

“I’m not sad, baby,” you said in the same hushed tone, which halted your tears. “I’m happy. Those are happy tears. Touch me, please.”

He used the same hand to turn your chin for his lips to kiss yours, slow and passionate, making you cry out. He sighed against you, breaking the exchange of affection to look at you in the growing, muted light, irises flicking between yours, deep in thought. And when he licked his fingertips and rubbed your clit, you realized he did it in order to watch your reaction because those same irises fluttered back into his head. He hissed, baring his teeth, and you mewled little sounds that almost made him roll them back again.

“Your clit is so swollen,” Hobi commented, love stretching over his eyes, and your walls clenched, tightly. You knew in that very instant that the love you saw got engraved along those fleshy walls of yours, never to regrow into its former state.

“My body is asking for you,” you murmured, using the similar words that you did yesterday in his car, when you teased him.

He moaned. “Oh, yeah?”

It were your eyes that rolled back and you let him espy your perversely innocent obsession with those two words. Your torso lifted off of the mattress, hips twirling in the rhythm of his circles, your throat emitting the sweetest, most prolonged noises. And he swore, mouth parted.

“You like when I say that?”

You nodded, your orgasm quickening in tandem with his motions. The blush that appeared upon his cheeks casted the room in a rosy glow. Even the moon shone differently—more gently, the heavens dressing themselves in the dawn of his warm emotions. It added much to the coming of your climax, the same colors dipping inside, and you yearned for his lips.

“Kiss me, please.”

He kissed you with a delicate hunger, burying his nose into your cheek, breathing hard. His other hand had sneaked around your torso when you arched it and as he kissed you, he lifted the hem of your pajama shirt and brushed his palm over your nipples. Streaks of the pinks of his dawn blasted in your dark vision, sizzling once he grabbed both of your breasts in that same hand, and your body gained momentum in its writhing dance, your nubs stimulated. And when his tongue greeted yours, you came.

His fingers glided along your wetness as you fell down from your high, unable to kiss him back. Hobi watched you with enlarged pupils and with reddened, puffy lips, out of which trickled little, rough noises of pleasure. He was pleased to see what he saw, cordially mellow life spreading over you, changing you. You felt it and you were fearful of it abandoning you, clutching it with all your might on the inside and he helped you—sank his fingers inside your heat, stretching you out, desiring to see it blanketing you, perpetually.

And then he was on top of you, driving his cock up and down your glinting femininity, panting, licking his lips, murmuring something about how he wanted to look at your face when he gave you what you wanted. He held himself steady in his fist, humming with each snap of his hips, his buff figure glistening in sweat. But all that your attention was painted with was the blessed picture of him getting you pregnant. It dizzied your senses, hormones rushing in, overpowering everything else.

And you didn’t voice it out until he was mid-stroke.

“I want you to breed me so bad.”

Hobi growled, gutturally, stomach clenching—making his abdominal muscles more prominent than before. He fucked you hard, stopping after each rock of his hips, your body reverberating.

“Be quiet or I won’t last.”

Due to the hormones intoxicating your brain, his rejection saddened you and your mouth rounded in a pout, hands clasping his muscled arms, your manicured fingernails scratching down the skin. Hobi only cooed at your reaction, leaning his weight on one arm, his hand petting your cheek, thumb tracing the half-moon of your mouth, failing to precisely follow the line, quivering as he continued to ram into you.

He grinned once your expression broke and melted into an angelically lustful one. He gave you the entirety of him, his mound kissing yours, again and again.

You caught your breath, got used to the overbearing sensation of him rapidly prodding your guts. “Give me your kids, please, please.”

And your plea didn’t have an ending until he decided.

“If you say please one more time, I’ll stop.”

And you did.

He pulled out, brows shadowing his deepening blush, and he pinned your hands behind your head, leaning his weight on them. His bedewed cock twinkled on the pooch of your tummy and you closed your thighs over it as much as your position allowed you, your legs hanging over his shoulders.

“Eyes on me,” Hobi commanded and you lifted your gaze, boring it into his. “You make me wanna do bad fucking things to you,” he continued, groaning when you squeezed the muscles of your thighs, affected by his words—your heart quickened, drunk by the dark side of his desire. “Punish you. Ruin you. But I can’t. I can’t when you’re such an angel, when you’re so bite-sized. You deserve nothing but love and gentleness, so don’t fucking tempt me and let me fuck you like you deserve.”

Maddened by his words, you began to lift your hips, thighs clenched, feeling small, courageous and girlish. Hobi closed his eyes, moaning. Fucked your thighs until he couldn’t take it anymore, holding them steady, staring you down. Then, he pried them apart and made love to them with his mouth, rooting at your stomach, marking it just once—on the skin just beside your belly button.

“I love your little tummy so much,” he whispered, biting it, biting into your insecurity and chewing it out, making you cry out in pleasure. Took your hands in his, rubbed your knuckles. “Are you gonna be a good pup now?”

Your femininity drooled for him and you nodded, but he wanted you to use your words.

“I’m gonna be a good pup now, Hoseok.”

He swore, kissing you hard on the mouth. “I don’t know what makes me crazy first. Hearing you say your pet name or hearing you say my name. You’re so good. So good to me.”

It was melting, what occurred next. In the same, poetic way the night melted into the morning, Hobi melted into you. He began to fuck you, languidly. No rush, no hastiness. Eye contact, hand holding. Nose to nose. Time might have stopped between you and him, but it went on beyond the atmosphere of the love you felt surrounding it from within. It reminded you of the love that swam past his eyes, of the way it got engraved on the walls of your heat—and with every tranquil stroke, you sensed him etching it deeper. The poem you recited for him, the picture of your swollen belly, the curved lines of his endeared eyes. You’ve gotten lost in it, and so has he—in the cherub pendant of your necklace, sitting proudly on your chest. The rosy light as it longs to look, too, at his studying material. It’s what brings him into the present time, tender eyes flicking to the side, where the light is spilling from, realizing that the morning has come.

He places his hand flat on your chest, fingers over the cherub. “You’re wearing yourself on your necklace. Little baby angel with pretty, pretty wings.”

You pucker your mouth, asking for a kiss, heart warmed by the fact he’s mentioning something that’s so dear to you. He gives it to you, chaste and gentle, whimpering against you as he twitches inside your femininity. He begins to move, smoothly, at that same slow pace. Love—that must be the wordless expression of love. You tremble all over.

“What do my wings look like?” you ask, thumb stroking his knuckle as your hands remain intertwined with his. You tighten your hold, stealing some of his stability.

Hobi doesn’t pause to think; his answer is ready on the tip of his tongue. “You’re golden, pup. From head to toe, but differently. You’re smothered in pink. Gold and pink.”

His imaginary wings quiver, pink and black. You sigh, pleased, heart thumping.

“The sun is up,” he says, kissing your neck once. “Are you strong and brave like that angel to open the message?”

You widen your eyes, mouth parting and drying in shock. “Now?”

He smiles, lazily, focusing his kisses on your cheek. “Yes, now, pup. So I can make you forget about what you saw right after.”

A moan escapes you and you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his back. Hobi picks up the speed, whimpering in your ear, hands gripping your waist—grounding you, giving you the notion that nothing bad could ever happen to you when he holds you like this, when he makes those sounds for you and when he’s connected with you like this. You can taste his strength when he nestles himself inside you to the hilt all over again,. And you smack your mouth, loving the tangy flavor of it.

What a perfect time to open the message.

“Okay. I can do it.”

Hobi coos. “That’s my pup.”

You clench around him and he growls, kissing you, the sound traveling down to your heart, steeling it. Breaking the kiss, he reaches over for your phone and hands it to you. You position it so both of you can see the screen as you tap on the singular notification, your stomach rippling while your heart remains strong. And while it loads, you whisk your gaze to Hobi.

He’s nibbling his bottom lip.

Nervous.

Ache seizes you and you’d say fuck it and fling your phone away, but you’re aware you need to do this. So you and Hobi can have the needed peace. It’s a step towards the confrontation that will follow soon.

“Can you hold my hand?” you ask, mouth rounded in tender emotion and Hobi doesn’t hesitate to take your hand. Interlacing your fingers with his in his style, he keeps your hand pressed against his chest and you can feel the vibrations of his violent heart.

Your ache grows.

The picture has finished loading.

A canvas is poised behind the sunless background of his floor length windows, illuminated by the faint lights that shone in his living room. You’d focus on the drying art, on its colors, on its vague message, but you know, instinctually, that the message isn’t there.

It’s right there in the reflection of his window.

Jungkook is standing there alone, barren down to his manliness. Covering the base of his semi-hard length with a hint of decency, the largeness of his hand only conceals the fine hairs on his mound while the rest is naked to the eye. The glint, perpetuated and divulging his arousal, on the mushroom head of his manhood. The broadness of his chest, the slenderness of his waist, the tattooed sleeve that leads to the part of him that used to bring you so much pleasure.

Your body betrays you; you clench around Hobi.

You can feel his gaze upon your face, but it’s not scorching hot. It’s anything but.

“Who is this person to you?” he asks, calmly, and you swallow with difficulty. The time has come for the truth; you can sense that it’s right, that it’s meant to be, but still you hesitate, try hard to find the bit of strength you have in order to use it to speak. But you discover that it’s all been used up, so you remain silent. Hobi calls you by your name, pressing on the matter, tiny stars of trust flashing in his eyes. “I’m not a boy, you can talk to me. You can tell me who this person is to you without me getting mad, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

It’s not that you’re fearful of his reaction—you just wish this never happened in the first place. You don’t want to deal with this, you don’t want to bring Jungkook into your relationship any more than he already is. But it’s inevitable. You can’t pause it. You can’t delay it.

You can only face it.

“He’s my ex,” you whisper, not trusting your own voice, worried that it’ll break and your tears will make an appearance.

“I thought so, but I wanted to hear it from you. Good.” He licks his lips, eyes descending to your cherub before they fix on your mouth, pecking you. Your chest shudders with emotions. “When did you break up?”

Your chin quivers. Inevitable. “Almost a month ago.”

Hobi nods, thinking as he rubs his knuckles on your cheek. “Do you still love him?”

A tear rolls down your cheek while silence echoes within your mind, body and soul. “I don’t know.”

He cradles your face with both hands. “You squeezed around me when you looked at him. Got wetter. It’s okay. It’s too soon. I found you too soon.”

You sob, loudly, uglily. Hobi shushes you, kissing your tears away. Pulls out of you and shifts onto his back, bringing you with him, so you can lie on his chest. Cocoons you in his arms, nose buried in your hair that he pets, breathing steadily while his heart tremors. You cling to him with all your might. Break and break while he keeps the shards of you whole, the sharp edges cutting his skin open. And you’re sorry, terribly, terribly sorry. You sink it into his chest, into his neck—kissing him there with your tears, your sobs and your hands that roam everywhere they can reach in the snugness that little by little find a way to help you voice it out.

“I’m so sorry, Hobi. I’m so sorry.”

He rubs your back. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You disagree. Loathe your body for the way it sang for another man. “But I did. You felt what my body did. I’m so sorry.”

He even grew soft and pulled out of you. A dread courses down your treacherous body at a thought that seizes you—that in most probability this is the last time he showers you in the kindness of attention, that this is the last sun you’ll ever see for the rest of your life.

Hobi brushes your hair back and gazes down at you, splitting your thoughts in two. “Look at me.” Rays of the heart-shaped sun paint streaks of rose gold in his pearlescent eyes. There must be all sources of light—you’ve never seen such stark luminosity. It pulls you in, tightens your attachment to him, encourages your private desire to be with him, stay with him, live life with him. You drift your fingertips along the softness of his skin on his chest that you’re resting upon, hear its hushed calling for you, but you fear it’s all in your mind. “Your body reacted the way it was supposed to. You spent some time with this person, loved him at some point and it just ended. Your body is still used to him and as much as it pains me, I understand it.”

The shards in you crumble, staining his skin in crimson. Your fingers begin to itch to claw that accustomedness away, so you can be all new and pure for him. They tremble against his shoulder and like a kitty cat, Hobi rubs his cheek on it, soothing its tremor, soothing its ruination tendencies, and you let him, willfully, gladly. You want him to paint you so anew that you’d have to get to know yourself all over again, that you’d have to wade through heavy, murky waters in order to remember, faintly, your past love.

You lost all respect for Jungkook—and, vividly, you sense the final conclusion to the chapter of your life with him.

“I want you, Hobi. No one else,” you whisper, your tears dried upon your cheeks, on his chest, too.

He lifts your chin. Looks at you for a time that seems centuries-long. “You want me?”

You nod in his hand. “I want to spend my life with you. Is it also too soon to think that?”

He laughs, softly, lips curled in a gentle smile. He swipes his thumb under your eyes, over your eyelashes, and he kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry. I said it because I want you all to myself. I also told you I don’t share, remember?”

Yesterday in his car, when he wasn’t willing to kill the engine and fuck you in your silky dress and thigh-high boots because he didn’t want other people around to hear your sounds of pleasure. His smile reaches your mouth, rightfully, at the memory. You deem it belongs there. Deem these memories should be the only ones living in your mind. Those to come, too. Not the image of Jungkook’s bareness and the unknown canvas you didn’t even glance at.

Now that you’ve descended to a state of calmness, you think about the matter of ‘soon’, portrayed by his words. You repeat them in your mind—“Too soon. I found you too soon.”—and admiration for him slinks into your heart, growing there into a bush of raspberries that you can strangely taste in your mouth. Every chamber of your weakened heart is perfumed by it the longer that sentence rings in your system. You’re touched by it, by his softness, by his lack of anger that would only be appropriate in this situation. And it means a lot to you, because all that you’ve ever known from the few men in your life, besides indifference, is anger. Your father, your first boyfriend, Jungkook. All of those men showed you that you’re deserving of the scalding, poisonous sting of anger due to your actions.

Hobi isn’t like that. He regrets the time. His emotions shoot out into the realm, where your footfalls never made an imprint.

Your sweetened body yearns to give back to him, but you don’t know how to do it in a way that isn’t lustful.

You lift your torso, propping your forearms on his chest, breasts squished against him. Your hair falls around you, vivifying the beginning bloom of your arousal, the raspberries. And you blow them, against his lips, coaxing an endeared hum out of him. Hobi opens his mouth to speak, but you outrun him, needing to get something out of your chest.

“Thank you for not being angry with me,” you say and the sunlight rises furthermore, gracing you with a picturesque aura that tightens the thankfulness, laced with the need to pleasure him, within you. “You’re not sharing me with anyone, and you never will. I’m yours and I want your kids. But I’m sorry that you regret it’s too soon. I’m sorry I’m not prepared enough for you. You don’t deserve this.”

Hobi shakes his head, pressing his lips in a firm line, dimples etched above. You regard them as so beautiful that you trace them with your fingertip. He envelops his arms around you tighter, grasping the nape of your neck, drawing you in to kiss you. And the raspberries burst as he moves his mouth against you, priming your yearning to give back to him.

A string of saliva keeps you bound to him as he withdraws and it propels you to kiss him again. He lets you, briefly, whimpers when you slip your tongue inside, and he forcefully pulls you away. Needs to say something—his eyes are full of that thumping urgency.

“I could never be angry at you for something that isn’t your fault,” he breathes out, chest lifting rapidly as he pants, the urgency growing in size and you sense that he really wants you to know this. “And these kids?” He thrusts his hips against you and yours and his smile widens in unison—he’s pressed right against your naked mound and stomach, and the movement caused his balls to softly tap the round, fleshy edges of your bum. “They’re yours as soon as this settles, you hear me?”

You coo, cradling his face, eyes narrowing in taut, tender emotion. And something of the same urgency spills out of you in similar fashion. “All night I imagined carrying your child. But I’ll start taking my birth control again until—”

“You don’t have to,” he disagrees, seriousness coating his tone, and your mouth parts. “As soon as this settles, you’re having my child, if that’s what you want as well.”

The words—isn’t it too soon?—almost drips out of your agape mouth, but then your desire stops you. If it weren’t the time for it, would your desire for it still harmonize with your heart?

Seeing your hesitancy, Hobi continues. “I have a house. A stable job. Money in my bank account. In savings. I’ve wanted a child for a long time and it got to the point that I had to physically stop myself from wanting it. And then I met you—and you wouldn’t stop tempting me with it.” He chuckles and you’re struck with speechlessness, your heart, your lungs swollen with a mania of affection, elation and passion. Merely your hands are able to talk—and you squeeze his cheeks, squishing them, prolonging his sound of joy, planting a flush across them. “You’re the person I was waiting for, pup. And the waiting is over. I have no reason to wait anymore, do I?”

You kiss him and onto his lips you say: “You don’t.”

He hums, deeply. Glides his hands down your spine to your bum, kneading it, and it’s instinctual—the way your hips begin to grind against the squishiness of him. In response, his lips latch onto your neck as his hands begin to guide your movement into a kingdom of vigorousness. Delightful pleasure anoints your body in rosy relief, exultation and in a rhapsody of excitement to see, to meet the new, upcoming face of your life.

Hobi, the curse breaker. The enigma is revealed and your organs flutter, scurry to write a hymn for him.

It’s what he absolutely, befittingly deserves.

And more.

You crawl back down until you straddle his knees, keeping your hands flat on his stomach as you take the softness of him into your mouth. You fail due to how lightweight he is, coaxing a giggle out of you and a determination to try harder to gratify your yearning to give back to him, and Hobi moans, pets your hair, the reverberations of his sighs stimulating your intimate parts.

You swallow a little bit of him, pausing at his tip, your cheeks hollowed out. He sinks his fingers into your hair, body trembling underneath you, and it feels exhilarating. A question that needs to be voiced out springs in you, spurred from the subtle saltiness of his precum that you devour.

“So, are you my boyfriend now?”

Hobi grins, petting you as if you were a puppy—waggling your head as you toy with the tip of his cock, using your tongue, feeling him harden, little by little. “I’m your husband.” Your stomach flips, cheeks redden and Hobi laughs, gently. Your arousal drips down, unabashedly, down your inner thigh. He grabs your jaw, his length plopping out of your mouth. Another trickle of arousal follows the one that stained your flesh. “But yeah, I’m your boyfriend. You wanna mark down this day, pup?”

You nod, speechless again, your mind a sultry, misty pool of lewdness and the image of your pregnant belly laps past your eyes, drenching you. “The day you stuff me full of your cum… as a boyfriend.”

Hobi rolls his eyes back, sucking in a breath as your smile blossoms. He tugs you upwards until your pussy rests against his cock the way it did before, caging you in with one arm around your back while the other squeezes the fleshy part of your hip.

“Grind your pussy on it, pup. Come on,” he orders and you listen, rolling your hips against his hardening manhood, your dripping essence making it an easy ride. Then, he kneads your ass cheek, descending to the back of your thigh and spanking it once, coaxing a high-pitched moan out of you that rapidly stiffens him. The sharp pain mingles with the pleasure rooting from your stimulated clit and you want more.

You’d reach behind yourself and put him inside, if he hadn’t spanked your ass so hard that you cried out.

“Fuck, Hobi.”

Your eyes wet with pleasure-filled tears behind closed eyelids and when you open them, you catch the lopsided smile on Hobi’s face straightening into a narrow, firm line. Your heart quivers, the mist in your mind evaporates and you lift yourself onto your hands.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask, panic evident in your voice, but it seems as though he can’t hear you—his eyes are lost, unblinking, his being having strayed away to a dark corner of his mind.

It isn’t until you shake his cheek that he flicks his eyes up to yours. Wretchedness dims out their light and it might as well rip out your heart, with its raspberry fragrance and all.

“The painting,” Hobi says and you furrow your brows, not sure what he means.

“What painting?”

He sits up, leaning his back against the pillowed headrest, licking his lips. “In the picture he sent you,” he explains, his voice dull and low; your lungs constrict. Cold sweat prickles your spine and you can’t breathe. What did Jungkook paint on that canvas? “You didn’t look at the painting?”

You’re ashamed to admit that you didn’t, so, breaking the eye contact, you shake your head ‘no’, your features drooping. Hobi takes your hands in his, his thumbs in the middle of your palms, and the gesture helps you reconnect the exchange of gazes. Pity floods the indistinct light and your lungs burn.

“He painted you. Bent over… his lap I guess. Your butt was red and it had his handprint.”

The fire of your lungs spreads to the rest of your body and you don’t hesitate before you grab your phone and dial Jungkook’s number.

Don’t hesitate to burn him with the same fire.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan,

BACK to masterlist | READ part one | READ part two | READ part three

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strawb3rryshake · 18 hours

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how dps boys react to getting complimented

Based on this post i found on pinterest :D

(i skipped stick i’m sorry stick fans)

meeks getting called pretty:

- he’s probably used to it considering how much he looks like his mama and it’s definitely not the first time he’s heard this

- and he knows how to accept a compliment like a normal person

- probably still smiles a lot and thinks about it afterwards

neil getting called cute:

- also can accept compliments like a functioning member of society

- kinda just grins at you when he says thank you, he’d probably give you a nice compliment back

- moves on with his day and doesn’t really think much of it

- bet he wishes it was todd who said it tho

cameron getting called cute:

- acts like he doesn’t care about the compliment but thinks about it for hours afterwards

- he probably doesn’t get a lot of compliments so it’s a big ego boost and he spends extra time in front of the mirror the next day (much to everyone’s annoyance)

- i feel like he would have preferred “handsome” or something else instead but he’s not gonna complain

charlie getting called hot:

- you expected this answer, i expected this answer, everyone expected this answer

- he probably winks at whoever gave him the compliment or bites his lip or does something dumb and flirtatious

- he flaunts the compliment a little bit to the others but after that he doesn’t think much of it

todd getting called pretty:

- he never expects to receive compliments anyway, but to be called PRETTY? he’s dead. deceased. look at what you’ve done.

- his face turns red and he thinks about it so much after and it embarrasses him every time it pops into mind

- he’d still manage to mumble some sort of thank you once he recovers

pitts getting called cute:

- never really receives compliments, much less ones like THAT.

- stammers a lot and suddenly he doesn’t know where to put his limbs and he just feels so awkward about it (he appreciates it tho i swear)

- probably tells meeks about it but after that he doesn’t think about it too much

knox getting called hot:

- for as much of the forward, hopeless romantic type he is, this was entirely unexpected

- handsome, sure. he’d even take “cute” and be able to react normally. he wasn’t prepared for this one tho

- personal hc that he’s the type of person who can flirt but can’t handle being flirted with

#i haven’t posted headcanons ever so #i hope everyone enjoys #should i do more of these?#dead poets society #dps headcanons #dps fandom #dps #neil perry #steven meeks #richard cameron #charlie dalton #todd anderson #gerard pitts #knox overstreet

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inumakisangel · 2 days

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Things for you to put in your dr script

a little post showing some things from my dr script to give you ideas for your own hehe :3

all pics (except from the toge one above) are from pinterest. if you own any of them and want creds, lmk!

♡ Security things ♡

1 - (VERY IMPORTANT!!) Everything is exactly how you wanted and imagined

I personally did not have any problems regarding how the reality is because of that. Not saying things will be 100% different from how you thought it would be, but putting that everything is exactly how you imagined will make the experience so much better (and will save you from stress if something is not how you wanted)

2 - (ALSO VERY IMPORTANT!!) Memories of before you shifted to DR come to you naturally

Just so you can know what stuff happened before you shifted

3 - (optional, but important) Any wish granter

Have you ever imagined having something happen in your dr that is totally out of your control and that you can't resolve? Create some way to make what you want to happen, happen regardless of the circumstances. Some ideas are:

2.1: Wish diary

A magical diary where, anything you write in it, no matter how difficult it is to happen, will happen one way or another, and exactly how you wanted, imagined and specified

2.2: Magical sentence

If you say (sentence of your choice) right after or before saying something that you wanted to happen, it will happen no matter what

2.3: Magical signal

If you do (action of your choice, for example, drawing a little heart on your nose with your finger) right after or before saying something that you wanted to happen, it will happen no matter what

2.4: Naturally happens just through your emotions!

If you're going to a reality where it's a bit dangerous, this is especially good, and i reccomend doing the first three together or the last one alone. In my dr, i only scripted the 2.1 and 2.2, and i only use it when it's an emergency since i prefer to see how things go on their own

And it will help you a lot if the writer of the fiction of your dr is a menace who kills every single character without a hint of pity and humanity in blood. gege. WHEN I CATCH YOU, GEGE.

4 - (optional) You will not go through any type of stress, and you only feel the good emotions

I mean... you're going to another whole reality in which you can do every single thing you want. Why are you subjecting youself to go through stressful situations?

5 - (really optional) Days have more/less time

This one is for the girlies like me who want to spend as much time as possible with the people from your dr ‼️

In my DR, days last 34 hours, 19 hours of day and 15 hours of night

6 - Same artists, bands, shows, brands, anime and social media exists there

This is actually one of the best things i scripted because i could scroll on tiktok, reccomend songs to my friends, continue to watch One Piece, buy sanrio things, eat kfc, etc

7 - (optional but really important!!) When you go back to cr, time in dr stops

Also one of the best things i scripted. You just get super giddy and excited to shift back and do whatever you want to do, and you can also plan things way better!

Tiny things

8 - You're immune to lose items/immune to them become damaged or dirty

9 - You're immune of getting lost (you always know the way of every place)

10 - You always have enough money to buy whatever you want

11 - You're always clean and smelling nice

12 - You can eat anything you want at any amount you want and you don't gain any weight

13 - You always know when someone is lying

14 - You're immune of getting sick

15 - All food tastes amazing

16 - You always know when you're in danger and when you're being stalked

17 - You always know if your food has been poisoned

♡ Material things ♡

1 - Flip phones

The canon year in JJK is 2018, so technically, technology is advanced, but i wanted to have flip phones so bad!! And i think would be weird for me to use an old ass phone while everyone uses iphones or smth. So i scripted that technology is advanced as in 2018, however, phone brands simply continued the trend of creating phones with old designs!

And these are the phones i have:

2 - (product brand of choice) is cheap and accessible in dr

This lines up with the one talking about how brands and media that exist in cr, exists in dr. I can finally buy dior and sanrio stuff without having to sell my organs!!!!

3 - There are many brands of products in the exact style you like (and that are cheap and accessible)

For the girlies who have underrated type of style in which stuff is difficult to find. I specifically did with hime gyaru and coquette clothing!

4 - People always give you good gifts

In cases like spending your birthday there and someone gives you like a dead bug or something

♡ More + random ♡

1 - You always know exactly what the other person wants to hear

2 - Your breath is always nice

3 - You will remember everything that happened in dr in great detail and very clearly

4 - You are enchantingly beautiful from every angle (not only in dr🤭🤭 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒛)

5 - You know how to kiss really well, and everyone who has ever kissed you says it was the best kiss they've ever had in their entire lives

6 - Your skin is really soft and healthy

7 - You always give off the impression you want to give

8 - Your diction is really good and you never make mistakes in words/names.

9 - Everyone has a good first impression of you

10 - Everyone likes to talk to you and be around you all the time + no one feels uncomfortable/irritated with you around

11 - You are immune to experiencing uncomfortable situations

12 - You have the number of everyone you know

13 - (insert favorite fanfiction of your choice) happens

14 - No one secretly makes fun of you/thinks anything bad of you

15 - (insert character of your choice) exists in dr as a normal person

16 - All clothing looks fabulous on you/matches how you look

17 - You're not bothered by loud noises/loud people

18 - Your phone battery never runs out when you need it

♡ Scenarios ♡

☆ "X person invites me to lunch with them everyday"

☆ "X person sends me a lot of messages everyday"

☆ "X person loves to listen to music with me, and thinks my music taste is amazing"

☆ "X person loves my hair and asks to touch it a lot of times"

☆ "X person adores my cooking/baking"

☆ "X person visits me everyday"

☆ "X person sends me tiktoks everyday"

☆ "X person acts as if they don't like me, but i'm actually their favorite person"

☆ "X person gives me letters and tiny gifts everyday"

☆ "X person is pratically glued to me from how much time they spend with me"

☆ "X person and I have matching pfps on (app of choice)"

☆ "I have a lot of pictures of me and X person"

☆ "X person loves taking pictures with me, and of me when i'm not looking"

☆ "X person thinks about me everyday"

☆ "X person always worries about me and how i'm feeling"

☆ "X person admires my pictures everyday"

☆ "X person has me as their phone wallpaper"

☆ "X person wants to be around me all the time"

☆ "X person has the same sense of humour as me, and finds me really funny"

☆ "X people always want me around"

☆ "X person always jokingly flirts with me (but they're secretly serious)"

☆ "X person admires me when i'm not looking"

☆ "X person loves to stargaze because the stars reminds them of me"

☆ "X person's first instinct when they're bored is to think of me"

☆ "X person thinks i'm the best person they've ever met"

☆ "X person wouldn't trade time with me for anything in the world"

☆ "X person feels really comforted when i'm around them"

☆ "X person can't look at my lips too much or else they won't resist the urge to kiss me"

☆ "X person invites me to play videogames with them everyday"

☆ "X person buys a lot of things for me"

☆ "(song of choice) always make X person remind of me"

☆ "It's obvious to everyone that X person loves me"

☆ "X people always ships me with X person"

☆ "X person gets sad when i'm not around them"

☆ "X person only feels comfortable venting with me"

☆ "X person has a diary, and they write about me a lot in it"

☆ "X person always calls me by (nickname of choice)"

this was so fun to make! i'll gladly make a part two if y'all want! <3

#♡ ⋆｡≀✧. * shifting ꒷꒦*.+ ♡#shifting blog #reality shifting #desired reality #reality shift #shifting community #reality shifter #shifting realities #shifting #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #shifting ideas #shifting script #shifting script ideas #shifting scenarios

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crowtrobotx · 2 days

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Happy Father's Day only to Karl Heisenberg. I wrote a little oc x canon ficlet this morning to deal with some ~feelings~ and I thought maybe someone might also enjoy it. This can be considered a Check Engine-AU-AU, lol, otherwise known as "Mechanic!Karl no Village." Word Count: 2166 Warnings: Nothing significant but if the subject of pregnancy isn't your thing you probably won't have a good time. ~~~~~~~~ Come on. Where are you, jackass? Kris’s fingers fidgeted nervously with a loose thread at the hem of her dress, eyes laser focused on the empty driveway from her perch on the living room couch. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck beneath the wild tangle of curls in spite of the air conditioning, cranked a rebellious one degree lower than normal out of desperation. She winced. That singular digit might have been the only thing that was preventing her from hurling onto the freshly cleaned hardwood floor.

It was a deceptively lovely summer day outside, the only hint of how truly unpleasant the weather was buried somewhere in the incessant screaming of the cicadas crawling all over the trees that enveloped their property. The heat waves radiating from the asphalt made her feel lightheaded just looking at it - how Karl worked in that stuffy garage all day, in those frustratingly attractive coveralls, without passing out was a mystery to her even after all these years. Maybe he finally did die of heatstroke. Would explain why he’s late, today of all days. Her stomach churned miserably.

She knew she was taking this all far too seriously. It didn’t have to be perfect - she could just tell him outright, like a sane person, but unfortunately she’d gone on Pinterest one too many times over the last couple of days in an attempt to quell her bubbling anxiety and it had all gone to shit from there.

Maybe it was how unexpectedly long it had taken. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d finally convinced herself it wasn’t actually a dream, that it was really happening and she wasn’t going to wake up in a cold sweat. Regardless, she’d put a silly amount of effort into this already - and spent her coffee money at the dollar store - so dammit, it had to turn out cute at the very least. She smoothed out the black linen fabric over her belly, hand lingering a moment longer than normal.

The glint of a windshield from the road had her sitting up like an excited dog. Sturm, snoring away on his well-chewed pet bed to her side, didn’t react at all. She’d been faked out by a school bus once already, but the harsh rattle of the perpetually fucked muffler on Karl’s impossibly old pick-up was, for once, like music to her ears. The truck rolled into view, prompting Kris to shakily rise to her feet and make for the kitchen.

“Okay,” she exhaled slowly, trying to steady the flutter in her chest. “It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s going to be fine.”

The outfit: adorable. The setup: in place. The lines she’d rehearsed in the lukewarm bath this morning until she’d gone hoarse: memorized. She could not fuck this up - if she did, she might simply melt into a puddle with all that remained of her being a pair of cartoon blinking eyes.

Get your shit together. These things never go as planned. He’s going to know something is up because you’ve been home alone all day and you did your hair and makeup instead of embracing the slug girl aesthetic, anyway.

Kris grimaced at her own inner voice, ceding that perhaps it was correct. She awkwardly milled about the room: leaning on the counter, deciding it looked too suspicious, picking up a knife, deciding it looked too insane. Footfalls growing louder toward the side door had her panicked and she at last decided to busy herself washing out an already cleaned coffee mug over the sink.

You can do this. What did Linda call you last time you were in office? A boss bitch? Lull him into a false sense of security. Pretend like you’re a respectable housewife and not a foul-mouthed nasty bitch someone was stupid enough to marry.

The screen door banged open, its rusty hinges surviving yet another assault from her careless husband’s grip. The man himself finally appeared, his outgrown beard and wiry silver waves a total mess from the heat and his work. Still, he didn’t seem agitated - a good sign. Otherwise Kris would have put off her little plan until later, unwilling to take unnecessary risks with something so precious. This would be her Instagram-worthy moment, dammit.

“Honey,” Karl’s loud croon shattered the peaceful silence that had reigned all day, “I’m home!”

God, he was revolting. Kris couldn’t help but to set the cup down and nearly dash to his waiting arms. He caught her in a near crushing bear hug, looking quite pleased with her reaction. She saved the ooey-gooey greetings for special occasions - she couldn’t let the man get even cockier, after all, and she had a reputation to uphold.

“You’re sweaty,” she observed, head finding purchase on his chest all the same, finding comfort in the familiar. “And you stink.”

“Sure do,” he said with a little too much pride. He ran a hand - probably grease-covered, by the looks of it; thank God I’m wearing black - down her back and hummed thoughtfully. “But you, on the other hand, look cute as a button. What’s the occasion? Did I do something nice and not remember?”

Kris untangled herself from his grasp, trying her best to look disinterested and unaffected. With a wave of her hand she returned to the kitchen sink, this time feigning interest in putting away the dishes, and cast a lidded look at him over her shoulder. She hoped her concealer was hiding her heat in her cheeks and making her act more believable. “It’s hot and I got bored,” she lied. Why do I feel like dragging his smelly ass to the floor with me right now?

Karl’s toolbelt hit the linoleum with a loud clang. In a couple of confident strides he was at her back, hands shamelessly trying to find purchase at her hips again. “Aww, did my girl get lonely without me? I can fix that for you, y’know… I don’t mind.” His fuzzy jaw nuzzled into her neck, the edges of his lips curling into a smarmy grin.

Of course - if one thing was going to ruin this, it would be the thing that had caused the situation to begin with: Karl’s dick.

Kris thwacked him playfully on the thigh with the nearest tea towel and rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the traitorous warmth pooling deep in her abdomen. “You know the rules. Not until you’re not going to stain my poor clothes with all those oil splotches. Then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically. She’d known him long enough to recognize false exasperation - he didn’t like messing up her pretty outfits, either. Karl turned to make his way to the bedroom when Kris caught his arm, putting on her best surprised face and tone.

“Oh! I almost forgot, can you help me out really quick? There’s something that needs to come out of the oven and I’ve got to finish this.”

“It’s ten steps away, doll- OUCH! You and that damn towel. Yeah, sure. One sec.”

Kris held her breath as he stomped across the room, rubbing his leg where she’d nailed him yet again. This was it. Her picture perfect moment. Even Sturm had managed to lift his greying head to peer curiously from the living room.

Karl opened the range. The singular honey bun sitting on the pain looked comically out of place, but that was the point - there was absolutely no way he could ignore it. Kris nearly shattered the dish in her hands, so tight did her fraying nerves make her grip.

“Oh, sweet,” Karl said, before picking the pastry up and taking a bite. “I was starvin’ after all those tire rotations today. Thanks!”

He resumed his trek upstairs, whistling contentedly. Sturm stared at her with a look that conveyed a sort of pity before resuming his daily 18 hours of beauty rest. Even the shriek of insects outside seemed to have dulled to a quiet hum out of respect for whatever remained of Kris’s dignity. She wordlessly placed the plate onto the counter, a mixture of resignation, rage, and outright bewilderment swirling in her chest.

He did not just do that. You hallucinated it in a hormonal fugue. There’s no way.

She had accounted for what she thought was every likely outcome. Unbridled excitement, tears, perhaps disbelief. Even that he would be angry - not truly angry, of course, but it was the emotion he defaulted to whenever he wasn’t sure how to handle whatever feelings were rushing through him, however positive.

She had not, however, considered the possibility that he was more stupid than the bag of hammers hanging above his workbench.

“Karl,” she croaked out just as he reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

He paused and peeked his head around to face her, crumbs somehow already decorating his beard. “What?”

Kris flexed her fingers and inhaled slowly to steady her voice. “Could you come here again please?”

When Karl returned to the kitchen, it took everything in her not to throat-punch him. He was simultaneously the smartest and dumbest man she had ever met - in spite of his horrific personality, everyone in town came to him for their mechanical needs because absolutely no one knew their way around an engine like he did. And yet here she was, trying to convey an extremely obvious plot twist to absolutely no avail while he stuffed his face.

“Can you tell me what you’re holding?” she asked, the strain in her tone causing her voice to sound unnaturally high.

Karl swallowed. He rotated the bread, eyeing it somewhat nervously as if he feared it might now explode. “It’s… a roll?”

“Well… some might say a bun.” Kris was getting desperate. Her new favorite hobby of vomiting was feeling like more and more of a possibility with every passing second. At least it would get her out of this situation.

“A bun,” Karl repeated.

She waited for him to do the math before giving in to his helpless, slightly annoyed look.

“Yes. A bun. From the oven.”

“That’s usually where they come from, babe. Did you hit that pretty little head of yours while I was at work today or what?”

Another silence. Kris swore to herself that she was going to throw this man through the second floor window.

“You found the bun…” Kris gestured, indicating that she intended him to finish her sentence.

“In the oven,” they both said at once. For a brief, tantalizing moment, Kris thought it had finally worked. She had been fully prepared to snatch the little wrapped test hidden in the utensils drawer and gift it to him in a sickeningly sweet gesture worthy of a Hallmark movie, until she noticed the completely clueless look on his face hadn’t yet retreated.

Are you fucking-

“Was it not for me?” Karl ventured at last. “Uh, s-sorry. Guess I shoulda asked. I can get you another one at the corner mart on my way home tomorrow if you want.”

“I do not want a gas station dessert, thankyouverymuch,” Kris hissed. The thought of what Karl-tier food might do to her already compromised digestive system sent a shiver down her spine. “I am trying to- you know what, never mind. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Ohhhhh,” Karl suddenly cooed, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning in to peck the tip of her nose. “Wait. I get it now.”

Cautious relief relaxed Kris’s shoulders. She batted her lashes at him and made a soft questioning sound, feigning innocence.

“You want a new oven. Why didn’t you say so? I got enough parts in that shed out back to make you ten if you want. Anything for my gal!” Karl’s grin was begging to be slapped right off his stupid, handsome face.

Instead, and with all the strength she had in reserve, Kris simply shut her eyes and lightly patted her husband’s chest. We’re going to call this a practice run. That’s all. “A new oven would be lovely. You’re the best, Heisy-bear.”

Karl winked before happily popping the rest of the bun in his mouth and reclaiming his usual air of off-putting flirtatiousness.

“You know it is kinda weird that you just made one,” he spat around the mouthful as he patted her cheek. “But I know you don’t like summers, pumpkin. Fries your brain and makes you do weird shit. ‘S okay, I still love you”

“Thank goodness for that.”

Kris waited until he was out of sight before allowing herself a brief, silent scream into her palms. Sturm hobbled into the kitchen at last, his three paws tapping rhythmically as he presented her one of his well-loved chew toys as a kind of consolation prize. She sighed, and at last allowed herself a laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Thanks, boy,” she whispered, bending to scratch the dog’s velvety ears. “Well, time for plan B, I suppose. Do you know where I can buy a mini toolkit?”

#okay to rb but i'm not going to put this in the main tags bc there have been too many weird cruel people in there recently #as always sorry if the formatting is weird. tumblr went nuts on me trying to post this.#i really need a consistent canon x oc tag. maybe...#murder mom & murder dad

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