I am Hanaa, a resident of Gaza City, specifically in the northern Gaza Strip. I am 38 years old. I live with my eight children and my husband in the Gaza Strip. Before the war on Gaza began, I was living a happy life with my children and my husband. We had a monthly income that was sufficient to meet our needs and fulfill our requests. When the war on Gaza began on 10/7/2023, we lived as homeless people after our entire house was bombed at the beginning of the war. We were displaced to countless areas since the first day of the war. After more than 200 days of the war, one of my sons was martyred and two others were injured while trying to find us food to satisfy our hunger. I became fully responsible for him after my eldest son was martyred and the other two were seriously injured. My children, my husband and I live in displacement camps. We have no other shelter. For the sake of God, help me feed my children and build a home for us. Donate to me, even if it is a little, because I need your help.
My daughter Lama, with a heart as pure as a flower, carries pain greater than her years. She was injured in the war, and a metal plate was placed in her small hand. But the pain doesn't stop there... She needs care, medicine, food... and we have nothing. No medicine, no food, not even a loaf of bread.
We live under a siege that silently kills us. I beg you, from the depths of my heart... help her if you can, or share this plea so it reaches those with the ability and compassion.
Lama deserves life. Why are you ignoring me? Hasn't it come time for us to take action and stand together against this injustice?
My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.
But life had other plans.
War has returned to our home. Again.
And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.
There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.
I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.
Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.
This is my life.
This is my daughter’s life.
And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness.
Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.
Why I’m Reaching Out
Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.
That’s why I keep going.
I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.
How You Can Help:
🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity
🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources
🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war
💛 If you can, please support our journey here:
My name is Saja. I am a wife, a mother to a precious 8-month-old girl, and I am writing this in a moment that I wish I didn’t have to live t
If you can’t give, please consider sharing.
Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.
From My Heart to Yours
Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war.
But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.
I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.
Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you.
Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring.
We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.
"This is my brother Mohammed… 17 years old, from Gaza.
He’s not just a number — he’s a human with a dream, and he wants to live with dignity." ✊
I’m his brother, and today I’m sharing this video where Mohammed talks about our pain, our life, and the dream he refuses to give up — even in the middle of war.
If his voice reaches your heart, please help him continue his journey. ❤️
Donation link to support Mohammed and our family:
My name is Naser AbuThaher , and my world has been shattered by war. I lost my beloved mother and sister in an attack that took them away fr
Thank you from the bottom of our hearts to everyone who stood with us, donated, or even shared our story.
You are the light in our darkest days. You are the hope. ⭐
My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.
The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.
Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.
I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.
Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.
I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.
My name is Abdelmajed, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Everything I once knew has been taken away—my home, my safety, and the people
Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.
Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.
My name is Abdelmajed.
I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.
The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.
Basic needs have become luxuries.
Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.
I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.
Escape from Gaza is my only hope,
but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.
I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.
My name is Abdelmajed, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Everything I once knew has been taken away—my home, my safety, and the people
Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety.
Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.
Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.
tooth rotting fluff; thoughts about having a kid (toji); reader is referred to as sweet girl and it’s implied she’s mamagumi <3; this is so fucking sappy.
he thought he let it go
he was sure he had left it, everything, behind.
his pride, his feelings, they had been left to die in that wretched childhood house of his.
so why?
why was his heart racing in his chest as he laid beside her, unable to sleep?
—
lay beside me
let’s share the gloominess
hand in hand in the darkness
i feel like i’m holding my life in my fist
her face was smushed in his chest, limbs tangled in an endless knot, skin to skin. disheveled hair framed those angelic features of hers he had grown accustomed to staring at, long eyelashes gently laid on her cheeks in her apparently dreamless slumber.
her chest rose and fell steadily, soft breaths hitting his pecs, penetrating his skin and flesh, going straight to warm his battered heart.
these devils around my bed
are waiting for me to fall asleep
the room was swallowed by darkness, thoughts swirling around his tired mind. toji was never the one to ponder much about his feelings; he acted, he didn’t waste time thinking.
during some particularly silent nights though, he allowed his brain to wander, he allowed his heart to be ripped out of his chest by his own consciousness.
the reality of my nightmares scares me
a knife rips my chest apart
it’s an open heart surgery
he had promised himself to never let the muscle between his ribcage feel again, the mere thought too painful to handle. yet, here he was, cradling her body like it was made of the most precious and fragile porcelain, expertly crafted to look flawless. just for him.
with the door and windows closed
the light can’t get through
but if your caress me i can reopen my eyes
tears dry
every wound stitches itself back together
he had honestly forgotten what comfort felt like for a long time, his body and mind getting accostumed to constant stress, anxiety and loneliness, all self inflicted. but then.. she stepped into his life.
with her soft giggles, lighthearted jokes and sunny smile, and she messed everything up. every wall he’d worked so hard to put up crumbling helplessly under the weight of her gentle voice.
i promise you, i’ll learn
to not hate everything i have
both in good and bad
wether it’s rain or snow
for your name, i’ll kill.
his merciless hands had ended many lives, cold and heartless in the process, but it never came from something personal, at least that’s what he liked telling himself. he was the one who left it all behind, the small satisfaction that came with eliminating a gifted one was just a small figment of his imagination.
so why did his entire body shake in pure fury only imagining someone bringing harm to the little slice of heaven he held in his strong arms?
lay down beside me
let’s share the sun
me and you, hand in hand in the desert
but when you smile, suddenly it pours.
i know who you are
you’re splendid, like your name
such a sweet girl she was, and that’s what he always called her. his sweet girl. if toji had to be frank, it was only fitting.
saccharine voice pulling him out from far more nightmares than he liked to admit, dainty hands pulling him back to slumber, running through his unruly locks.
she was so sweet, the sweetest.
suddenly, he felt her stir in his arms, his eyes quickly darting to the digital clock on her nightstand. 3:45 am. fuck, did he wake her? were his thoughts that fucking loud?
“mhmm.. ‘ji, why aren’t you sleeping?” she said, nuzzling her face into his chest, voice still heavy with sleep.
us, a monster and a little girl
hand in hand, navigating the world
towards a new life, i’m ready
this is the ascent from rock bottom
“don’t worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout that, sweet girl, go back to sleep” he replied, voice gruff and husky, while caressing her back in an attempt to lull her back to sleep.
“why don’t you join me, mh?” she readjusted her body, face now in the crook of his neck, trailing chaste kisses all the way up to his jawline.
“don’t wanna you bein’ all grumpy in the morning" she chuckled in a whisper.
my god, what are you?
the eighth world wonder
the gods’ daughter
you who made the impossible happen
gave me my will to live back.
god she was just so fucking perfect.
his hands trailed from her back down to her waist, pulling her into him more. he needed her impossibly close, bodies melting together, never wanting to let go.
that night toji realized he’d marry her, even give her a kid. maybe he could be selfish for once, and make another little blessing for them to share.
and if the world is too small for us
we’ll redefine space and time,
us.
“yeah.. sorry for wakin’ ya doll, let’s go back to sleep, ‘aight?” he squeezed her hips gently.
I really love your Gojo therapy session piece! I would absolutely love to read more of it!! Thank you for your great work ❤️
aaafbksmfhskdbhabdbsns thank u sm anon this means a lot to me🥹 and yes i am actually working on more parts! (i still don’t know how many they’re gonna be tho)
some angst (suicide is mentioned very briefly), no use of y/n, cursing, female!reader, idiots unknowingly pining for each other, emotionally constipated gojo
it was so fucking stupid, he didn’t need any of this. he’s the strongest sorcerer of the modern era for god’s sake.
why on earth was he being forced to see a goddamn therapist?
upon yaga’s request- well, demand actually, he was required to see a shrink because, as the principal worded it, he needed ‘a lot of fucking help’.
of course, he refused at first.
thee satoru gojo in a shrink’s office? what was that, some twisted fucking joke?
sadly for him though, yaga decided to put his foot down and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. he threatened the snowy haired man to take away his teaching job if he didn’t get the help he apparently desperately needed.
so it began, satoru gojo’s journey with his therapist.
over the course of a couple of months, satoru had grown accustomed to his routine with his therapist.
he met up with her in her cozy little office, she tried to make the conversation about his feelings and he’d redirect it to something else entirely, mainly complaining about higher ups in his field.
that always earned him a look, but she never forced him to share his inner monologues with her.
she couldn’t do that even if she wanted to anyways, he wouldn’t let her.
all of this led to an unlikely.. friendship?
well, satoru wouldn’t exactly call it a friendship, but it was.. something.
that day, was no different than their usual meetings.
a tall and lean figure made its way into her office and sat on the comfortable armchair in front of her about 30 minutes prior, but all she got from him up until that point were silences and changes of subject.
“and how did that make you feel?” god here she went again with that stupid fucking question.
satoru sighed, stretching his legs and arms a little.
sometimes she forgot how massive he actually was.
the woman briefly averted her eyes, looking everywhere but at his stupidly stunning figure, afraid yet another crack would appear in her professional persona.
she’d tell herself it wasn’t her fault, it was only natural after all! he was just very nice to look at.
she could be pretty dense, for a therapist.
“you worry too much,” he said casually, albeit a little irritated, after some back and forth. for some reason he couldn’t quite understand, his mood wasn’t the best that day, but he still tried to keep his usual laid back attitude, hiding the annoyance behind a pout. for her sake.
“i’ve told you countless times, i’m here just because i was basically forced, nothing is actually wrong with me.. if yaga didn’t constantly check in with you, i wouldn’t even attend our ‘sessions’ in the first place”.
well.. if he had to be completely honest, satoru had told only half the truth.
he attended their meetings also because his therapist was a very pretty sight to look at, and surprisingly interesting to talk to (when she wasn’t trying to pry into his feelings, that is.)
satoru was more than aware she was only trying to do her job, he really was. he just.. didn’t care, so he decided he was going to make it her problem. maybe he’d manage to get her to her wits end and she’d finally give up on him.
‘please don’t give up on me’
gojo leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees. a playful smile took over his previously pouty lips as he said something along the lines of ‘why don’t we talk about YOUR feelings instead?’.
maybe he could joke his way out of this? he hoped he could.
his therapist sighs, scrunching her nose and pinching the bridge of it slightly. cute.
“we don’t talk about my feelings because i am your therapist, not the other way around, gojo” she countered, trying to keep the conversation as workplace appropriate as possible, suppressing the urge to headbutt the stubbron (and gorgeous) man in front of her.
the woman was very proud of her skills as a therapist, so much so that the lack of progress with this peculiar snowy haired man left her particularly dissatisfied, so she started putting slightly more effort than usual in trying to crack his façade, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
“and, for your information, i do worry about you for a reason” she continued, voice firm, stern even.
‘she really worries about me?’
“judging by the very limited amount of insight on yourself you’ve provided me, you really do need someone to talk to about your feelings” his pretty therapist added, looking at him straight in the eyes.
she looked like she wanted to obliterate his sunglasses with her mind.
‘don’t look at me like that’
feelings feelings feelings, he was so tired of hearing her going on about them.
after that statement his mood quickly worsened even more, his face fading in a cold, borderline cynical, front.
‘well, thats a first’ she thought to herself, a little taken aback.
satoru had been curious about what exactly she saw in him from day one. was it concern? pity?
‘i don’t want her pity’
whatever it was, it was a waste of time on both ends.
"i see" he hummed thoughtfully as he tapped his fingers against his knee, pondering on his next words. "can I ask you something?"
“sure, go ahead” she answered calmly, a bit of unsureness and skepticism detectable in her voice given the sudden shift in his character.
satoru seemed to stare right through her for a few moments. his gaze was cold and unmoving, his eyes felt like they were piercing hers in a way that no other client's ever has.
“have you ever considered…” he begins slowly, voice low “that you might not be as good at this job as you think you are?”
his words were sharp, each one chosen with great intent. there was something behind his eyes that both fascinated and terrified her.
‘im sorry’
her eyes widened momentarily at his question.
a flash of annoyance, maybe even anger, thundering in them as her eyebrows furrowed, her lips parting to throw an equally biting remark back at him.
be professional.
she took a deep breath and crossed one leg over the other, speaking calmly once again.
“if you want to criticise my skills you’re free to do so, even though you’re not qualified to do so” the woman retorted.
“and if you want a different therapist you’re more than free to ask mr. yaga” her words did have a little edge to them, but she still managed to keep most of her composure.
before the man in front of her could get a word in, she added one more thing.
“but from my perspective, a therapist’s perspective, you do need one” she said as she tapped her heeled foot on the ground.
‘i know i need help’
‘help me please’
satoru pondered for a couple of seconds, then he chuckled humourlessly as he leaned back in his chair.
his face was stoic, similar to a statue, and his eyes lacked their usual shininess, almost looking muddy.
not that she’d noticed anyways, considering they were hidden behind his glasses.
there was an intensity to his gaze though, one that made even just looking at him feel as if she was under a microscope.
"I think you're taking this too personally." he hums, mocking her ever so slightly.
"i’m not criticising your skills per se, all I'm saying is..." he pauses for a moment, considering how best to say it. "even a blind man could see your ‘concern’ for me runs deeper than the usual pity you feel for all your patients”
“you must think i’m really fucking pathetic, huh?”
what the fuck was he going on about?
“my concern for you, or any other patient for the matter, is not based on pity in the first place, gojo” she looked at him, her face bewildered.
“you think i pity you?” she raised both her eyebrows in question, the incredulous expression still on her face.
satoru chuckles. though the sound is soft and quiet, delightful to hear, something about its sweetness makes it bone chilling.
nonetheless, this made her excited.
it was the widest range of emotions he’d ever shown her.
‘im breaking through!’
“do you not?” he asks, shifting in his chair, and leaning back in it once again, folding his arms over his broad chest.
“why else would you be trying as hard as you are to ‘fix’ me?” he asks, a frown stretched across his gorgeous face.
“i’m just a client like any other, but yet here you are! trying your damn hardest to change me.”
ah, so he did noticed her extra effort huh. fuck.
still, who the hell put the idea she pitied him into his stupid head?
“i do not pity you, gojo. i’ve seen patients far worse than you are” she said, almost sounding a little defensive.
“and i’m not trying to ‘fix you’, or change you for that matter! that is not my job!” she exclaimed, a smidge too loud, massaging her temple with one of her hands immediately after. probably to chase away the growing headache he’d given her.
‘i managed to piss off my own therapist what the fuck is wrong with me and why do i even care?’
before he was completely swallowed by his self deprecating thoughts, her voice brought him back once again, like a saving grace.
“my job is helping patients navigate through their emotions, using methods that are tailored perfectly for them” she explained.
“i communicate with my patients to help them find a way to process their feelings that works for them. i do not pity them, i just help them” she paused “..or, well, try to. if they let me” the woman concluded, face serious.
his face twists in distaste as he listened to her speak. bullshit.
“that’s the thing though,” he responds slowly “i don’t need help with that”
the man pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, finally meeting her eyes properly.
‘he’s so pretty’
“you think I need your little ‘tools’? or to talk about my feelings??” he said, annoyance lacing his voice.
“i have always known how to process my emotions. I don’t need you to teach me how. i’m. fine.”
she barely held back the urge to scoff.
gojo had never realised how bad his coping mechanism were, and she was just trying to get him to develop healthier ones, bit by bit.
‘communicating would be a great fucking start’
evidently though, it wasn’t working, so she decided it was time to switch up her approach and be a little brazen, maybe that would work.
“you? processing emotions? that’s a good one.” she snickered
he scrunched his nose up, questioningly “and what could you possibly mean by that, huh?” he felt himself get more and more agitated as the seconds ticked by.
he felt like he was being stripped naked, exposed, against his will. all the things he’d worked so hard to bury, the careless persona he’d built..
‘stop looking at me, stop finding out things about me i don’t want you to know.’
“you bottle everything up, pretend it’s fine and let it eat at you from the inside, little by little” she looked at him menacingly, her eyes narrowed into slits.
“that big goofy grin, or the confident smirk you put on, doesn’t work in here, gojo”
she clicked her tongue in disapproval. “in this office, i’m reading you, not the other way around” she continued ad she pointed an accusatory finger at him.
“i know you’re used to getting you way, because you’re smart, even though it doesn’t look like it, but as long as your ass is sat in that chair, you won’t find a way to give me answers you think will please me”
“if your goal is to get me to tell yaga to get off your back, then we’re going to be here for loooong. i’m striving for the truth and i’m going to get it”
to hell with being professional.
the man remained silent for a few moments, his expression almost..hurt? “…I think I hate you.”
he smiled in defeat, leaning forward once again, and though his voice was even and calm, it came out a bit strained.
“no, I know I do.” he didn’t though, and that confused him to no end.
the woman gently laid her hands in her lap, trying to ignore the sting his words left in her chest as her voice went back to its usually stoic connotation, completely discarding the venom it previously dripped in.
“i get that a lot from patients like yourself” she started, calmly.
“usually, they drop therapy after a few session because they can’t handle the truth being thrown in their face and then, after a while..”
a pause, like she was choosing her next words carefully “they end up dropping dead on the floor when the fire crew cuts the rope they hung themselves from” she finished, her expression darkening ever so slightly.
“you think you don’t need help, you think you’re fine just ignoring your emotions, but one day they will catch up to you and it’ll be too late to save you” her voice lowered, almost shamefully, as she tore her eyes away from his.
“nobody will be there to save you from drowning.”
satoru looked shocked for a moment, then he felt a sudden and unprovoked rage take over his body.
how dare she?
he wasn’t like that. he was strong. the strongest, actually.
he wordlessly jumped up from of his seat and went to stride straight out of the room, with the intention of never stepping foot there again, but then he stopped, his back still to her.
for some weird reason he couldn’t quite comprehend, gojo felt the need to still try and prove he was fine, despite the fact the issues he’d tried so hard to hide had been uncovered and brought up to the scorching sunlight.
“i’m not stupid. i am perfectly aware shit might eventually catch up to me, but i’m the strongest fucking being that ever walked this earth, i’ll deal with it”
what was meant to be a powerful statement, came out sounding whiny and hoarse, almost like he was trying to delude himself into believing his own words.
‘at least he admitted he has issues, progress is progress’
his therapist opened her mouth to talk, but he didn’t give her a chance.
he felt like he was being consumed by a sudden and foreign rage.
“BESIDES WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE?!” he suddenly screamed, rapidly turning to face her again, his glasses being hauled across the room in the process.
“why are you that concerned over some stranger like me?” he adds, his expression hard, “do you genuinely, truly, believe I’m worth helping?!”
‘we’re going to have to work on these self deprecating thoughts’
‘im the strongest, i don’t need to be cared for.’
“yes, i do” she stood up from her chair in a (failed) attempt to not crane her neck upwards to look at him.
“i do believe you are worth helping” she assured him in a gentle voice “you can walk out now, if you wish, but never forget this is a safe space where you’re free to talk, satoru” she said, her words surprisingly comforting.
“you’re not a god, you’re human just like the rest of us”
being called human never felt so good.. and it was also the first time she had ever called him by his first name.
and just like that, the usual gojo satoru was back, cracking jokes.
“do you normally call your clients by their first name, or am i special?” he asked, the question dripping with sarcasm and a tiny bit of flirt, as a small smile appeared on his lips.
the angry pretty boy has been calmed down, success.
“you definitely have a savior complex” he added quietly, chuckling a bit “it’s cute”.
a smile made its way on her face too as she shook her head a little, her cheeks a little warm at the compliment “whatever lets you sleep at night”
the woman sat back down, once again crossing one leg over the other.
“now, will you sit down and give therapy an actual chance, satoru?” she looked up at him, expectantly and hopefully.
“yeah.. yeah, i’ll do that.”
gojo satoru may have been the strongest sorcerer in modern history, but he was still human like everyone else.
# just a little drabble about suguru geto because brainrot hhh
fluff fluff fluff!!
just thinking ab going on a first date with suguru.
he’d be such a gentleman :((
first of all, he religiously follows the sidewalk rule. he needs you to be as far away as possible from the road, reckless drivers are a very real danger you know?
since it’s a first date there won’t be much pda involved BUT!! your hand will be in his so! fucking! fast! if you find yourselves in a large crowd. he’d keep you close to him and look down at you assuringly, as if he was saying “i got you”.
you try to open a door or pull out a chair for yourself? he will be personally offended. seriously, who do you take him for? ladies should never touch a door handle or pull out a chair for themselves, especially beautiful ones!!
all in all, suguru geto is and always will be a gentleman.
now, imagine you went on a few dates right?
things start getting more serious, real feelings start blooming on both sides.
the dates you guys go on change almost drastically.
first dates are a big deal to him, always striving for perfection. fancy dinners, buying expensive gifts for you, endless flowers, aaaaall the works. he wanted to live up to your standards you know?
but then, after the third or fourth date, maybe you suggest going on a picnic in the middle of nowhere, offering to come over to his house first to prepare the food, and he swears he can feel himself melting.
getou’s main love language is quality time, just basking in a loved one’s presence is a blessing for him, so you offering to do such a cute and intimate thing with him? man caught feels, expeditiously.
the day of the date finally rolls around and you head over to his house. while you help him make the food (even though he insisted you just relaxed on his couch and let him work) he’s all pink cheeks and bashful smiles.
you know, that smile of his. that closed eye smile that is probably contributing to the planet’s temperature rising for how warm it is??? yeah, that kind of smile.
the food is prepped, so it was time to head out. when you two finally get to where you’re having your lil picnic date, conversation just starts flowing so naturally: talking about everything and nothing, philosophical talks transforming into playful banter, chit chat becoming very personal questions. the both of you hadn’t realized how late it got, it was probably time to head back home.. or maybe not. not yet.
you two hadn’t shared your first kiss yet, sugu had said he wanted to take is slow and you respected that, so until you were sure he was 100% ready you weren’t going to make a move on him. you wanted him to move at his own pace and take it a step further whenever he felt ready.
little did you know that getou had been dying to kiss those lips of yours from the moment he first laid eyes on them, and finally, it happened.
kissing suguru for the first time, on a blanket in a flower field, felt like.. heaven.
yeah, if you had to describe it in one word heaven would surely be it.
