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#married people talking about their marriages
ham1lton · 3 days
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MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA
pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.
warnings: misogynistic media and comments.
summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.
author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!
— part of my maneater series ꕤ
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START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)
Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?
user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!
user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭
Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.
user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭
Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.
user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?
user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.
landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT
Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.
landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.
landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?
user7: LMFAOOOOOO
Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.
user8: BOOOOOOOOO
y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.
Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.
landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!
charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔
user6: y’all are MESSY 😭
user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍
georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻
Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.
user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.
user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!
Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!
georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.
user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭
Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?
charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.
georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.
user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!
logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.
Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.
oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰
user9: HELP???
user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!
user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!
Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.
user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.
user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!
user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?
lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.
Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?
lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.
Y/N: what a snitch…
user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭
Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.
youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???
lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.
user7: HELPSOSJSSJ
user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭
Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.
lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.
user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭
Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.
alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT
danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣
user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.
Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-
INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)
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whateversawesome · 2 days
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Spy x Family Chapter 97: An Old Love Story
Okay, say it with me: FOIL!
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You can see it too, right? Looks like Martha x Henry (Henderson)'s story is a foil of Twilight and Yor's story.
Henderson was in Twilight's place; the smart, lonely young man so focused on his ideals that he was blind about who was in front of him and his very own feelings.
Martha was in Yor's place, the strong and graceful girl too young and inexperienced to know her own heart and that she was in love.
This is exactly what's happening with Twiyor, the main couple of the story, and I think we may get to see one of the possible endings for our beloved Twiyor through Martha and Henderson story.
Now, what do we know about these two 🤔...
We know that Henry Henderson has a daughter and a son-in-law. It was mentioned he writes to them, but there was no mention of his wife. This leads me to believe that:
His wife is no longer alive.
He lives with his wife, so there's no reason for him to write to her.
He is divorced.
So, with this information we still can't know what's the current relationship between Martha and Henry, but we can take a guess 😉
From the way the story is being told, it almost feels like it's a semi-tragic love story, doesn't it? We can almost assume that they didn't end up together...or did they?
Theory one: Yup, everyone is right and Martha and Henderson eventually went their separate ways for reasons we'll probably get to know in the next couple of chapters.
If this theory is right, I think it's beautiful that they are getting a second chance 💖They certainly look more mature, confident, and calm (also elegant!). I love the way they look at each other, so much trust and love 😌
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Theory two: I know this one is a long shot (and Henderson just said in that panel that "She is merely and old friend") but maybe...they're actually married. Why am I so bold to even consider that possibility?! Well, there's this panel:
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The matron is clearly teasing Master Henderson, don't you agree? If she does it, it's because she knows something. Either she knows that there was something between those two in their youth or she knows they are married. I don't know, but they way she said the word "partner" and the fact that Master Henderson is married made me think that Martha is his wife. I know, I know...it's a remote possibility, but you have to remember that marriage is mentioned a lot through different characters and couples during the story, so maybe those two were actually married. (But, it's quite possible it's theory one).
Other things to consider...
How long have Ostania and Westalis been at war?
My guess is that we're talking about two different wars between the same countries; very much like WWI and WWII, where there was a brief period of peace before a second conflict. So, probably the first war started while Henderson was in his 20s and the second war started when he was in his 40s (and Twilight was a kid).
It makes a lot of sense that now they're in a period of "Cold War", just like in real life.
The Garden
I am convinced that the Garden is involved in this. I've talked about this before (read it here). After this chapter, I still think the Garden is going to pop up. Want some evidence?
Do you recognize this guy?
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That's right 😏 That's Matthew McMahon. What is he doing there? Too much of a coincidence, don't you think?
And also the way this is phrased:
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Odd that there was a mention of the word Garden, isn't it? And the fact that the whole story between those two takes place in a garden...🤔
In addition to that, in a previous chapter, Twilight observes how Martha moves like a soldier. Franky mentioned earlier that Garden people are like soldiers. And the Garden has a history of recruiting young skilled/strong people, like Yor. Things keep adding up.
The Consequences of War
This is a prevalent theme throughout the whole SxF universe: how war (violence, intolerance, manipulation of information, propaganda, politics) has affected the life of all the characters.
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No matter their background, nationality or education, we've seen it again and again with most of the characters big or small, like Twilight, Franky, Sylvia, Millie, and now we're about to see it with characters from an older generation like Martha and Henderson.
My guess is that this won't be the last time and this pattern will continue while the story lasts. I think what the story is trying to show us is how war is seen by some (politicians and men in power like Desmond) as a natural, inevitable course of action, but at the same time how brutal the consequences are in the smallest stories. That's one of the things that is truly remarkable about SxF.
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ronintales · 2 days
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ೃ₊ 🌾 ❝ So When I Die ❞ ╰►, Gojo Satoru
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𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 | following gojo satoru’s death, his ex wife is in charge of taking care of his funeral service and everything else that comes with it.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 | 4,676 words
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | character death, possible spoilers, funeral, angst, and not proofread ;p
 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I did NAWT want this to be my first work on here but due to certain circumstances…. AHEM his DEATH!!!! I felt it was necessary because laik… grief LOL. I wrote this a while back tho. Enjoy.
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꒰ 💌 ꒱ ♡ ༘° 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓, gojo satoru …
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Your ex-husband is dead, and in his line of work, yes, you know that he has a higher risk of dying than the average person, but still, death never comes expected, does it? Even if he always says—oh wait… used to, you suppose, say that he was crazy strong and no one could ever take him down. Well, he was wrong in the end like a bunch of other things. Like how well he took care of you, how he’d give you six kids, how—you won’t ramble, noting he’s dead now and there’s no point, but also because it’s quite rude of you to talk down on someone who is dead and can’t defend themselves. Whatever.
You just… don’t expect it. Yes, you understood he was hard headed and insanely cocky, but in a way… you always believed that he would always come home alive and, even if he did get hurt, he would be okay eventually as he heals. You don’t forget it, he’s only human, you know because of the many mistakes he’s made, but still… he’s… he’s gone?
You hesitated when you heard that. Gojo Satoru, the so-called love of your life from two years ago, is dead? Impossible, you think. Gojo Satoru found death embarrassing, with all the things he said. He said that he would be okay. He was always okay. What are you supposed to say to that?
When you get the call, you wonder why you, of all the people in his life, were the one they called to inform about his status. Why did you have to go to his place and clean out all his things? Take all his belongings with you? At first, your instinct was to say “throw it all away,” because what does Gojo Satoru mean to you now? You’re not his wife! He neglected you for years and filled your days and nights with sorrows. He broke your heart. But still, he didn’t mean nothing to you at the same time.
Those precious years of being his acquaintance in middle school. When you had shorter hair and he didn’t know much about you other than you were in his class and he had bought you cute white socks for your class gift exchange on Christmas that year. The long years that Gojo Satoru pined for you after you both attended the same high school. The hard and dark times he went through losing Suguru and shutting you out, though he loved you for so long. When you turned twenty, and Satoru had gotten better, to the point where he felt he was ready to move on and continue with his pursuit for you. When you turned twenty-three, and got married to him on a spur. When you moved in and shared a bed, until the marriage got cold and most nights you spent alone.
You couldn’t say for the past fourteen years, Gojo Satoru was nothing at all to you. The news was shocking, and knowing he was dead… did you have to be careful about how you felt about him, or how you thought of him? Well, now that he is dead, should you be so ruthless and hostile toward the man who broke your heart? You don’t know, so naturally, and it really just slips out, you agree to take care of the process of his passing.
For the most part, you’re calm. You don’t actually know how to feel, and you don’t know how to be. You’re not his wife, you have no obligations to take care of him, or anything that he cared about. Yet, you’re here. In his lonely apartment that doesn’t even smell like him. He probably never even spent much time in this place, even so, he still had a lot of belongings. Pictures of you in frames surprisingly. He did take them all when you got divorced and he moved out of the house, you just didn’t expect that he’d put them up on display. He probably didn’t get many visitors to question him about the lady in his pictures. You were sure that would get annoying.
Anyway, you don’t know if you’re supposed to cry or even feel sad. You don’t know if it’s strange to feel that way or not. You can’t quite make out how you feel, being surrounded by Gojo Satoru’s personality and things. You don’t think too much about the things inside the apartment because you don’t want to be too reminded of what you used to be. What you felt about the man once upon a time. If there was still love in your heart for him.
Gojo Satoru wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t clean either by any means. Given he probably didn’t stay here much, it made sense that you didn’t need to clean a whole lot of the apartment. You get there and you take it all in. Satoru’s little apartment, because he didn’t want to pay for such a luxurious place he wouldn’t even stay in. Maybe that kind of place made him feel more alone too. Thoughts you should not be thinking start to trickle into your brain, but you stop yourself. You shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, nor should you want to go back. You made a decision to leave and you should honor it. It was the right thing to do for yourself (hopefully).
Do you even want his things? No, not really. But you have a keep, donate, and a throw away bin anyway. Most of it keeps going to the keep bin and donation box. Somehow the feeling of someone else getting Gojo Satoru’s things is unsettling to you, but it’s even worse to think that all these things will just go to a landfill where things that were once valued are forgotten and it’s all going to be considered “trash.” Maybe that’s because you know why every item is there and the story behind that certain mug or decor piece. You don’t know it, but you’re trying your best not to care.
You sigh, the thought that this is all so strange, bothering and pestering you like an annoying fly. You tell yourself you know that already, so stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re in denial that Gojo Satoru is actually gone. You can feel him. He’s still there, you know it. That or you’re just surrounded by his belongings and that’s why his presence is here.
In your hand, you hold a big black garbage bag as you make your way to his bedroom to clear out his closet. This is a room of his that you haven’t been to, strange right? You wondered if another woman spent time here. Jealous much? You’re supposed to be clearing out your ex-husband’s apartment, not pondering about what he was up to after you two had split. The man is dead for one, what are you going to do about it? Confront his dead body? You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, so that thought is one you shake off and ignore too.
You sigh because you’re tired from cleaning all day and clearing his things out and you’re probably only a quarter’s way done with the place. It’s not even that big, it’s just been uncomfortably hard for you to bring yourself here with your mixed and strange feelings about this whole situation. Isn’t there anyone else who cares about Gojo Satoru? How come you’re stepping up to the plate when this is how you feel—confused and unsure? What are you even going to do for the funeral? You took the task up because Gojo Satoru would probably turn in his grave knowing the higher ups organized his funeral. So while it is strange for you to do all of this, you’ve rationalized the lot of this situation that you put yourself in. Once upon a time, he loved you right? So surely he would prefer you over—you’re so silly, thinking all these things when Gojo Satoru is your dead ex-husband.
You plop on the bed with a small groan as you turn over. This is a bit inappropriate, to be laying on your ex husband’s unmade bed. It’s left in the state that it was the last time he woke up. That’s a little precious you think, freely, not even denying it. Are you ruining this precious thing here? Well, in all honesty, you’re kind of cherishing it, because this is a small piece of Satoru that is really still here in the present times. He always liked soft things and this blanket is soft. The sheets still smell like your ex-husband. The light musk of his skin and his soap is there. The thought of this bed being his is comfortable enough. Like you miss his warmth and touch, you curl up on the mattress, hugging yourself to the scent of him surrounding, and you can almost imagine that he’s holding you right now, like he used to. His detergent is faintly there too, well actually, it’s the same as yours. He asked when you two had split and he was settling into his own place all the household items you used. You supposed that it was all he knew.
You offered to go shop for household things with him and it was probably the last time you two had exchanged any kind of affection. You let him put his hand on your thigh as he drove you two to the supermarket. He let you link your arm with his, sides flush together like you two didn’t just get divorced. It was a silent message of “I miss you,” because it was and—quite frankly, still is—hard to get over someone you loved for so long. Even if he left the marriage long before you did, emotionally and physically. This was something you wanted while you married, for Satoru to present, and in your arms. For him to show you that he cared and loved you. You were even a little upset that was the only time he was doing all of that for you, but you chose not to ruin the moment for the both of you.
Funny how all these memories and things between the two of you are flooding in constantly. It makes you feel kind of sick. Nauseous and unable to breathe. You open your eyes in realization of what you’re doing right now. You sit up immediately, flustered and embarrassed as if Satoru would open the door right now and have that annoying smug grin on his face with his arms crossed, just to say as he leans on the door frame, “I knew you missed me.” Following with your name because he liked your name the best. He always said your name was pretty and he wouldn’t give you a pet name because nothing will ever be as great as calling you by your name. A nice little reminder that Satoru loved your name makes you smile a bit. Weird how all of these just keep piling up. One thought triggers another and it almost makes you itch and feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. You almost have regrets about—
Whatever, you have a deadline to clean this place up you remind yourself. You spread your palms out on the sheets once more, feeling every thread that Satoru once laid his body on. You should take these for your bed, you think. They’re not so bad, just a plain white sheet, but it reminds you of Satoru’s hair and it would be waste.You lift yourself from the bed and open his closet, not even noticing how you keep having to make excuses for yourself to keep some of his things.
Already feeling overwhelmed because you keep holding back, opening the closet makes you feel like you’re cracking. You let out a suppressed sound. You can’t even register what it sounds like. A squeak or something? But looking at all his clothes almost makes everything so real for you. All his uniform? All his coats and sweaters? Ah, the one from high school. And then you can see all the ones you bought him. Damn, does that really test your strength.
Lined up neatly and nicely put away, it’s almost a shame to you to give these away. Your hand shakes as you hesitantly reach for one of his favorite button ups. Your skin meets the soft fabric and you only lightly touch it because you don’t want to wrinkle it. You remember when you used to iron Satoru’s clothes early in the morning before he woke up. Even until the end of your marriage, you still ironed them.
You look up, reaching for his work uniform. This is what he wore most often, you know that. So you let yourself crumble. Carefully taking off the hanger and sitting on his bed as you hold the shirt close to you. You bring it to your nose, just to smell it. You wish it smelled like Satoru more, but even so, it makes you break down.
Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you take another sniff. The thought that Satoru really isn’t here anymore makes your heartbreak. It comes crashing down on you. You really miss him, and you regret that you didn’t spend as much time as you would have liked to with him. You wish you could have had the courage to tell him how much you still cared and loved him. Yes, it might not have been the same kind of love you had for him before, but you did still love him.
You let out a little sob. In frustration and despair, tears flow out as you hold his clothes close to you. The walls of your bruised heart collapses as you hold his clothes so tight as if he was still in them. Well, you really do wish he was. You’re desperate to feel him in your arms physically. Just a moment with him so you could say your last sentiments. Just a moment to see him again. Just a moment to love him.
You’re helpless as your tears flow endlessly onto his shirt. You feel silly, but you just can’t stop. You really miss Satoru, and you have been for so many months now. You stroke the shirt as you would his body, wallowing in the grief you’re supposed to feel, even if the dead man is your ex-husband. You spent so many years loving him, how could you just not feel anything to hear news of his death? How could you not feel any regret or remorse for how messy you left things with him? There’s so many things you want to say to him, and it kills you to know you will never get to say any of it to him.
You wonder if Satoru was still around, would he wrap his arms around you and tell you not to cry? Would he kiss your temple like he always did when you were down? You wish he would just do all of it. You wish you two could have tried harder. Your love for him never burned out, you know that much. It’s the reason why you’re here, alone in his room crying as you hold his clothes dearly to you. And even if you hate to say it, even if you don’t want to admit it, Satoru loved you until the very end too.
“I’m still in love with you y’know…”
“Shut up,” You mutter as you slide the eggs off the pan for the hungry man at the table.
It was the dead hours of the night when he returned from a mission, knocking on your door, telling you that he was hungry and needed a place to crash.You slammed the door on him of course, but he wedged his foot in the gap of the door (no, it didn’t hurt, he’s got magical powers that prevent him from actually getting hurt like damn maniac) and used his own strength against you to push his upper body through the door to beg you to let him stay. It was a mistake on your part, but it actually wasn’t all that terrible that night. You were just bitter.
“My bad,” Satoru said dramatically as he took a bite. “Just thought you missed me. That’s the reason you let me in, right?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, not in the mood for any of his games. His smug grin made everything even worse, because he was right. “Gojo Satoru, wipe that grin off your face.”
“Must have hit a nerve,” He teased like it was still appropriate to do so.
You actually don’t even remember what you said then after that, but you just know… Gojo Satoru has you all figured out yet… he never said anything about it to you. And that was just him. He knew well enough not to break your heart one more time, but he was selfish enough to constantly flirt with you any time he could. If he passed by, or was coming home late from a mission and knocking on your door to remind you that he existed. Not anymore.
After cleaning his apartment, it’s all empty now. Which is a little strange. You’ve never even been to his place until after he died, and yet… it makes your stomach turn and feel upset after realizing that this place is no longer where your ex-lover resides. You understand that he’s no longer occupying it. There’s no point in keeping it for him. But maybe because you don’t think it through while you’re still in the grieving process. You don’t think about Gojo Satoru being dead because you don’t want to. It makes your heart squeeze and your breath stop. You can’t face the fact that he no longer exists and you can no longer see him anymore. You just can’t, so you wonder: where will his home be? Who's going to take care of him? Where is he going to go to shelter himself from the rain or snow? Where is he going to sleep? Where can he feel safe and secure?
You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You really need to get some proper rest. You feel yourself withering in the bitter feelings you still have toward Satoru, but also the dangerous sorrow that’s sinking your whole body down. You can’t believe that you really miss Gojo Satoru after all this time hating him and wishing you two had never met when he was here and alive, waiting for you to just cave into what your heart wanted. Truth is though, you never would. You were too strong for that.
Finally, you pack up the final things, leaving absolutely nothing behind. Satoru isn’t here anymore, and it looks exactly like that. This little corner of the world isn’t his anymore, and you’d like to say that it never was because he didn’t spend much of his time in this place. It’s just sad to see it all gone, stripped to the bare white box it actually is without the fun of your late ex-husband. You shut the door, leaving this place behind and bringing this part of Satoru with you, maybe the only part of Satoru that is still worldly and able for you to have in your grasp. You leave the key to his apartment on the landlord’s desk and leave with the rest of Satoru’s things in your arms, all thrown in the cardboard box labeled “Satoru” in your handwriting with a permanent marker. Silly of you to not even realize it, Gojo Satoru’s home is not a place, it’s you.
The end of it was the funeral process. Which was much more work than cleaning his apartment. You wish somebody was worried about your well-being, but that somebody, the most likely candidate, was dead. Satoru would have told you to chill out a bit and ask you to wind down with him, but this is his funeral, he can’t really do that now, can he? But you don’t want to seem like you’re so reliant on him. You’ve done plenty of things without him, and this will be no exception. He just… sort of made the process easier and bearable. You’re on your 10th phone call with the carpenters of the coffin when you really wish you didn’t take on the task of carrying out Satoru’s dying wishes. He didn’t even have many, because he was so sure he wasn’t going to die so soon.
Through it all, you hold yourself together quite elegantly. Even through the eulogy. No one would even guess the mental strain you put yourself through to make this all happen. All the floral arrangements are beautiful, Satoru’s corpse is dressed nicely—though you grace him with a closed casket funeral because you were sure that he did not want anyone to see him so vulnerably lifeless and you simply could not handle the sight of his stale and unresponsive body. But everyone could indeed tell, Gojo Satoru was loved. They could understand your love for the man. You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t love him. But you just deny it.
His guest list was quite large. Some people you didn't even know, and you were sure he did not want that. But the higher ups had their own agenda too, and you had to make compromises though you stood your ground quite well for the sake of your late ex-husband's well being in the afterlife. You wonder, would Satoru love you for eternity for loving and caring for him unconditionally and so thoroughly? When you eventually join him, will he thank you for so meticulously planning and giving him a proper send off? You hope so. You hope that he will continue to love you in the next lifetime, and in that lifetime, you two will be happily together. Not miserably apart like you are now.
Maybe the only time anyone can see you break is when the casket is lowered and this is the last time that you’ll ever see Satoru’s face again, except you don’t. His casket is closed and covered with all the flowers you bought to send him off beautifully. There’s a complex look on your face, and no one could quite read it, but it was clear that there was a storm going on inside of you, stirring and rumbling. Your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes glossy with a down turn of your lips. You’re just keeping yourself together for Satoru. You need to.
The only time you get to break down about it is when you get home from the long day. Crumbling down your door, as you miserably sob. How could the world be so possibly cruel that you had to bury the last man you loved for the past ten years? It never gave you time to move on. You weren’t ready to let go just yet and be content with the distance. Sure, you asked for it when he was still tangible, but now he was untouchable, not existing, and it felt so painful. You curl up in a ball, on the bed you used to share with him. The bed you two used to gossip on and the bed where you simply just held him to sleep on your good days. The bed that you laid alone for most nights wishing he’d come to hold you and not be too tired for you. All the bad and good memories come to make you think of one thing; you wish Satoru was here right now.
You lay there, contemplating if you just want to stay there for the whole week or get up and cook yourself something. You haven’t been eating with how hectic it’s been to take care of Satoru’s send off. You sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep sounds like the best thing to you at the moment. You were drained and exhausted from preserving the life of Gojo Satoru as well as commemorating it. You needed that rest.
When you drift into sleep, you kind of hope that Satoru is there for you, waiting in a field of beautiful flowers like he came to visit you in a dream. Even if it’s just your imagination. You’d like to think that he cared enough that he left you alone to deal with all of the things he left behind. He doesn’t though, because you don’t dream. You just black out and you wonder if you’ll ever dream again. But maybe you’re just being dramatic because you miss your ex-husband so much. You blink the tears out from your eyes, wiping them before getting up and pulling yourself together. You can be sad, but not miserable. You were never the type to just crumble, however, even this shook you down to the very ground and yes, it is hard to get back up. But everything with Satoru was hard, and this was no different. You should have been used to this.
Eventually, you do get yourself together. Sad, but you’re functioning. You go back to work and you continue with your daily life. Satoru’s never really been a part of your daily routine after the 3rd year of being married to him. It was no different not seeing him at all, but it was just the fact that he truly wasn't there anymore. If you were to call his cell, it would just ring on your dresser in your room and go to voicemail. Sometimes, you wait for the voicemail just to hear his voice, but most times you stay away from his contact. You’re recovering, just slowly.
People at work send their condolences, just like they did when they found out you divorced Gojo Satoru. They give you a pitiful look and tell you to be strong, but when they think you’re not listening they bash Satoru for passing and still putting the responsibility of carrying his will out on his ex wife—you. You don’t defend him nor does what they say settle well with you. They’re right, of course. Gojo Satoru has always been selfish, up until his last breath, but you just can’t seem to feel validated when you’re the one who buried Gojo Satoru. He was once your whole world, how could you just completely numb yourself to the pain of losing your connection with him, absolutely and completely?
Apparently, you’re the only person on his will too. You inherit everything of his one day, and it’s kind of overwhelming. All of his money is transferred to your bank account, all his belongings, everything is yours. You don’t even know what to do with most of it. You don’t even want to look and use anything of his. So you store most of his things in a box and label it “Satoru,” along with the other things that you took from his apartment, and you make an account to store all his money in, for what? You don’t know, just something.
When you're older, you’ll come to realize that you made Satoru a loved person until the very end, and that you were perhaps the only person that he still had love for, even if you weren’t his wife anymore. This is why Satoru loved you so much, and yes, he got very lucky with you, you will give yourself that. But you also won’t feel so bitter about having to be the person to handle his departure because you made sure to do just the way he wanted it, by you. for now, you’ll miss him lots and bring him flowers whenever the time comes. You won’t call him your ex-husband, but your late-husband. You keep some of his clothes to wear like you used to. You still sleep on your side of the bed, leaving the space Satoru used to fill empty for him. Life goes on the way it used to.
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hazbinsimp777 · 2 days
Note
Hi!!! Hope it’s ok to request Vox and Lucifer with a fem s/o who’s very affectionate please. Giving random little kisses, listening to his problems, and all these romantic gestures. Sorry she just has so much love to give >_<
A:N: I am EATING this concept up! Thanks for the request anon! <3
May I present...
~Affection is Key~
Featuring Vox and Lucifer
✅️Fluff ✅️Wholesome ✅️Adorable
A/N: Reader is female, a sinner and married in both Headcanons
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~LUCIFER~
~ This man is SOAKING in all of the attention and affection you give him, he is the type that is a hopeless romantic. You are one of the only people that can actually make his day, besides Charlie of course
~ A refresher from his previous marriage
~ He loves how many gifts you have given him throughout your relationship, he even has a whole shrine of pictures of you and your gifts inside his closet. Something you absolutely do not know about and he had went through great lengths for that.
~ Even all the little homemade gifts you make him, a lil paper flower, a origami of a duck! HE LOVES IT ALL.
~ Whenever you two are in public, he adores how clingy you are towards him. Being the prideful shit he is, he holds his head up high and puffing his chest when you hugging his arm. ESPICALLY when you give him lil kisses on his forehead.
~ Even when he is meeting with the sins, he INSISTS that you must be brought along with him. During the meetings, he loves when you occasionally give him little kisses when the attention his not on him. His face is lightly blushing.
Lucifer : Ah Asmodeous! Yeah, this is my wife!
~ He literally brags about you to the other sins, but, they do think it is absolutely adorable.
~ You are his own personal-unpaid therapist. Always listening to his problems, giving advice at times and giving him reassurance to whatever he is ranting about. He even loves laying his head on your lap, with your fingers running through his hair when he is talking.
~ One thing that he loves it your cooking, at your time alive you had done your fair share of cooking and baking. Whenever you can, you would give your husband the best meals throughout the day.
~ Duck shaped pancakes, burgers, steaks and duck shaped cupcakes just to name a few! He is always so thankful for all the food you cook for him. Like you have always said, "The way to a man's heart is his stomach."
~ At random times of the day, no matter in private nor public, if something was out of place. His hair, clothes or hat, if it is out of place you are fixing it.
~ For example, he goes FERAL whenever you are fixing his bowtie, fixing a strand of his hair, adjusting his hat or wiping down a bit of dust on his clothes.
Lucifer: Have my children now.
Y/n: Okay sure
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~VOX~
~ This was one thing Vox always had loved about you, how loving you are towards him and everything you do just because you love him. Honestly, it is a refresher in Hell, something rare to come across.
~ At times it does keep him up at night, why are you with him? How did you even get down here? At first it was VERY confused, so you don't only want sex or money from him? You want to be loving towards him? And LOYAL???
~ As long as you are with him, he isn't complaining.
~ For example, when he is going on camera on his television show, if there is anything out of place, it is a guarantee you will fix it. All you need to do is whisper, "You are going to be great Darling!" and blow a little kiss and all of the power is going to be out.
~ Another thing, he can bitch about Alastor as much as he wants to around you! While you are doing whatever you are doing, Vox can talk about anything you will be listening. You even give him very good advice and reassure him about anything. He only falls deeper in love with you after the first time you did that.
~ During his working days, you always check up on him and drop off any food you had made. Knowing Vox, he is a workaholic, so whenever you simply drop off food, water or check on him, it means the world to him. It shows how much you love him.
~ Speaking of food, he is IN LOVE with your cooking. As a man from the 1950s, even though he is not sexist and knows women are powerful. Doesn't mean he doesn't want to feel like a man in the relationship. So you taking care of him while he is working hard, means everything to him.
~ When he is around you, you make sure to give him as many hugs and innocent kisses as you possibly can. As an attention whore, he is taking and ADORING all of the random kisses and hugs you give him throughout the day.
~ Which is why he just HAD to wife you up immediately.
~ And because it will be easier to spy on your if you two are married.
~ That is why he spoils you rotten. At this point he is both your husband and sugar daddy in one. He can't help it! As affectionate and adorable you are, of course he wants to take really good care of you. Both the bedroom and overall.
~ Though you do not ask for much at all, he still insists he gets you the nicest clothes, shoes, jewelry, undergarments, perfumes, technology, stuffed animals and anything else you desire.
Vox: Honey! Look what I bought for you!
Y/n: *GASP* PLUSHIES! *runs over and jumps in the mountain of stuffed animals*
A/N: I hope this was good! I hope you liked it anon!
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sweets3rial · 2 days
Text
i wanted it to be you.
ch. 1 // ch. 2
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di!leon x fem!reader
summary: you wanted it to be him. he wanted it to be you. though, life is unfair. you don't always get what you want.
tags: much angst, some comfort, pining, talks about the past, talks about past relationships, flashbacks, ex-bf lsk, engagement/marriage, cheating/infidelity, affair, smut, car sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, fingering, mating press, creampie, slow and sensual (?), regret, and even more sadness.
warnings: cheating on spouse (not cheating on leon and leon not cheating on reader)
word count: 7.5k
the sunset has always brought peace to Leon. it was like a rinse, a reminder that his day was ending and starting for someone else across the globe.
a reminder that the day was fading into night and then would fade into morning then night again. it was a peaceful goodbye, silent and celebrated by some in the world. 
the orange, pink, blue, and purple hues brought warmth to his heart. the soft breeze blew up from the cliff and into his hair, his deep brown strands flicking into his eyes and ticking the heights of his cheekbones. his cheeks felt cold to the touch just like his heart. 
unlike the beautiful view and sunset, the peaceful breeze, and the silence, the storm inside Leon was the complete opposite. his skin was littered with ugly scars that he tried his best to hide. there was a storm inside of his heart, tornados destroying his peace, and noise in his head he couldn’t clear. 
he couldn’t sleep, worried about too many things he couldn’t handle or solve. he was tired but sleep only made him even more tired. the nightmares he’d face every night made it hard for him to stay asleep. he’d shoot up in a cold sweat, slapping his hands around his comforter looking for something … or someone. 
nothing can erase the image of that bling, the blinding reflection of a diamond, blinding his eyes from his view of you. it wasn’t any ordinary ring, it was a wedding ring. it hurt, more than any knife or bullet that has painted scars on his body.
he couldn’t believe it. he wanted to deny that even though it’s been so long, that there was still hope. hope for the two of you, that one day time and fate would bring you back together. 
but it seems like fate had other plans. someone else caught your eye, maybe he’s better, maybe he’s enough, maybe he can be there for you the ways Leon couldn’t. 
all while, Leon has been waiting. he stares into the sunset and it reminds him of the warmth of your skin and the shine of your smile. he is planted onto the ground instead of floating on a high like he was when he was with you. he cries and he doesn’t have you to hug him. 
he stirs in his sleep and he doesn’t have you to calm him. he gets home tired and he doesn’t have you to lull him into a peaceful sleep. he’d fall into the crook of your neck, practically putting all his weight on you and you’d accept it with your arms wide open. 
you could barely wrap your arms around him but you still tried, running your hand up and down his back, cooing into his ear and placing soft kisses to his tears. it’s funny how two people can go from cuddling skin to skin to absolutely nothing in a day. 
even though he’s seen every inch of your body, held you in your most vulnerable states, touched you in places no one else can, spoken to you about the future, he even met your family. all that only for you to treat each other like strangers. he’s nothing but a stranger now. it’s not fair. 
he should be the one getting down on one knee and proposing to you. he should’ve been the one to see you clasp your mouth in shock and watch the tears of joy well in your eyes. he should’ve slid that ring onto your finger, he should’ve been the one. 
that man that you married doesn’t even know your jewelry of choice. he had no taste. Leon knew you much better than that. 
his fist clenched in the pocket of his leather jacket. 
it should’ve been him. 
he jumped at the sound of a car door shutting behind him, his head whipping around and his muscles tensing.
it was you. 
you had just crawled out from your car — parked next to Leons. your facial expression was indiscernible but he could tell you were shocked to see him. though, you weren’t alarmed. he watched as you pursed your lips, “you’re here.” 
it was more of a statement rather than a question. the sound of your voice instantly stilled the storm in his mind. suddenly, there were clear skies and sunlight. no more rain and thunder. no more noise. just silence and peace. 
there you were, standing there so casually in a sweater and jeans. nothing has changed but at the same time so much was different. 
he shrugged, hands still in his pockets. 
“i’m here,” 
he watched your lips curve into a chuckle, he wasn’t sure if his heart had stopped or if his heart was racing at a rapid pace.
you were just as beautiful as the day he lost you. it left him speechless at how gorgeous you can be, in any setting, with any hairstyle, wearing any clothes — preferably his clothes. he loved it watching you dig through his dresser to pull out any old t-shirt. 
it’s all you would wear around the house. his clothes. 
your head dipped down as you walked towards him. slow footsteps, dead leaves at your feet crunching as you got closer and closer. he could feel his heart speed up with each step. blood rushing to the tip of his ears and his cheeks, now warm with a small blush. 
you slowed your steps down at a tree — your tree. your hand ran over the initials carved into the bark. your heart instantly stung at the sight and memories were quick to play in your head. 
it was a late night, both you and Leon had leaned up against this very tree. 
you two were enjoying the peace and he was pointing out the constellations in the sky. you weren’t keeping memory of what stars connected to make this instead, you were looking at him. listening to him speak. 
you always loved listening to his passions. 
there was a certain glimmer in his eyes that always captured your eye, that glimmer that indicated he was happy or excited. if you asked him what his favorite band was, he’d spark up, or even when you’d laugh at his horrible jokes. his eyes would gleam, his smile would grow and his face would no longer look so … tense. 
it hurts that you haven’t seen that look in a while. 
you smiled, tracing the tip of your finger over the ‘scar’. he had carved your initials into the tree and back then, it was still bright green and fresh. you remember laughing at how he struggled to carve a heart with the tip of his combat knife. it was cliche, something kids would do, but you were kids back then. free and in love. 
you let your hand fall back into the pocket of your jeans as you continued walking towards him. he kept his eyes on you the whole way, still as enamored as he was before. 
no, he couldn’t be. you were going to be married soon. 
“how are you?” he asked while clearing his throat. 
“i’m…” you paused looking out into the horizon. meanwhile, he was stuck looking at you. the orange light from the sun warmed up your skin beautifully, a natural glow highlighting the tip of your nose and your cheekbones.
he is reminded too much of the memories you two made when he looks at you. 
he loved kissing the tip of your nose and nudging the tip of his into your cheeks. you’d complain at how cold the tip of his nose was and then he’d instantly warm your skin with a kiss. 
“i’m alright, how about you?” you finished staring back at him. if you were being honest, you weren’t alright. you were having many many doubts.
did you get engaged too fast? are you even in love? should you have said yes? is he the right man? will the wedding be a disaster? who are you going to invite? 
all these thoughts were rushing through your head and you needed peace and quiet. so you went to the only place that could relatively give you that. your spot, the one you shared with your past lover. 
“i’m still standing, aren’t i?” 
you chuckled, such a Leon thing to say. 
“also, uh congrats,” his hand left his pocket and gestured down at your left hand. instantly, the cold weight of your wedding band became apparent to you and a chill ran through you. hiding your hand behind your back, you smiled up at him. 
you knew how much it hurt him, you could see the pain and the dullness in his eyes. they weren’t glimmering, he wasn’t happy. 
“thanks,” you smiled, timidly. 
“when’s the wedding?”
“um, don’t know, still trying to figure that out,” you breathed out, tucking a coil behind your ear. “just like everything else in my life,” you mumbled out the last part but Leon heard it all along with the fact that you were wearing earrings. 
~
‘i uh,’ he was bad at giving presents. he always was. he wasn’t sure if the recipient would like it or not. 
‘i got you these but-‘
‘Leon! ‘ he watched your eyes shoot open as he brought the small velvet box into your view. 
‘yes?’ he asked with a lift of his brow before flicking open the box. a set of beautiful earrings that were small and childish but they reminded him of you. 
‘oh! i love them!’ 
‘out of all the things i bought you, these are your favorite?’ he tsked, tucking your hair behind your ear as he prepared to put them on for you. 
‘i know but they’re cute,’
‘silly goose,’
~
he’s seen you happy many times before but that was pure joy. the way you jumped into his arms and hugged him with the grip of a gorilla. they were simple earrings from a small shop, but he watched as you grazed your fingers over them in awe. 
you asked how much they were and winced back at the price. nothing was too expensive to Leon, as long as it was for you. 
his heart dropped at the sight of those earrings, they don’t even match your necklace-
actually, they do.
~
‘babe, want this?’
‘huh?’ you turned towards him away from speaking with another employee. 
‘they match your earrings,’ he tapped at your earlobes causing them to jiggle. 
‘leon, it’s expensi-‘ you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips while shaking his head. 
‘shush.’
‘you don’t have to.’ he smiled, placing a small kiss to your lips. 
‘i want to.’
~
you’re wearing the matching necklace as well. both contrasting against your ring. one being gold the other being silver. he knew how persistent you were about matching your jewelry to your outfits and to one another. 
you never wore gold and silver at the same time. so why?
your hair dropped back down in front of your face with a gust of wind, hiding away your earrings. 
Leon steered his attention away from you and back down to his feet, “your hair is longer,” he commented. 
you lifted your hand up and tugged at a strand of your hair, “oh yeah, i guess so,” 
you haven’t even noticed, funny how time moves so fast but yet so slow for you. it only feels like yesterday that you and Leon were up here, sitting on a blanket and watching the day fade into the night. your hair was much shorter back then. 
“it looks good, suits you,” 
“thanks,”
the tension was only getting thicker and thicker. this was the first time you two actually talked ever since … god knows when. when you two broke up maybe? it left a bitter taste on your tongue whenever you thought back to it. 
it reminded you that you and Leon rarely argued. you two both worked in the same field, you both understood the weight and responsibility it was to be an agent.
but sometimes, when you love someone so much, you tend to ball up a lot of emotions in order not to hurt them. 
it was about time that you both would explode. 
“why are you here?” you suddenly spoke up, finally cutting the tension down a little. 
“i’m thinking of you…” Leon spoke honestly, “of us,” 
he watched as you froze, eyebrows curving upwards and the corner of your lips dropping into a frown. 
“Leon-“
“i am happy for you,” he was quick to cut you off, raising his voice over yours. 
“stop,” you mumbled out, dropping your head to avoid his gaze. 
“but why? how…” he paused, collecting his anger. he licked his lips and looked down at you. he watched as you bit your bottom lip and screwed your eyes shut. 
“why couldn’t we work?” he asked pointing between the both of you. 
“we were hurt, Leon,” you sighed, blinking away a tear before it could fall as you looked up at him. when you met his blue eyes, your heart sank. he was so hurt. he was still hurt. even after years, he is still hurt. 
“and hurt people hurt people.”
his sad blue eyes always hurt you more than any wound ever inflicted upon you. seeing him sad could easily bring you to your knees, as it is your biggest weakness. you were convinced that nothing could hurt you more than Leon. 
“we could’ve worked it out, we could’ve talked, gone to couples therapy,” he took a step closer to you, his body felt weak almost as if he had broken every bone in his body. “we could’ve done something,”
“i did something! i moved on, okay!” you suddenly shouted out at him, causing him to pause. “i found someone who can communicate and i found someone who doesn’t bottle up and hide away, he loves me-“
“does he?” Leon grimaced, you pursed your lips and hid away from him. almost, as if you were ashamed. he continued to slowly approach you as if you were a timid animal. he was gentle and slow. 
“see, don’t do that-“
“he doesn’t even know half of you, he doesn’t know you like i do,” 
“Leon, stop.” 
even if you told him to stop, you weren’t moving away. you two were opposite sides of a magnet, you couldn’t help but attract each other.
the smell of his cologne was dragging you back to him, the smell of his sweat and his shampoo. the sound of his voice. the warmth radiating off of him. 
it was something you were so used to. it was home. 
he grabbed ahold of your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. you instantly melted into him, the feeling of his rough palms was always better than anyone else. you could recognize his touch out of a thousand men. 
he was never rough, he was always gentle. he used his hands to kill but to also touch and soothe.
“please,” he whispered out. a breeze coming from behind you lifted the scent of your perfume off your skin and into Leon. you always had a signature scent, one that had his mind in a frenzy whenever it hit him. 
“i know your dream ring by heart, like the back of my hand.” he huffed out. you couldn’t help but breathe out the air caught in your lungs. he reached up slowly with his other hand, brushing your hair back to reveal your earrings. 
“they matched these exact earrings,” his hand traveled down to pick up the pendant of your necklace, “and this necklace.” 
as he turned the pendant around, your initials were carved on the back, the same font and style as your initials on the tree. he still remembers going to the jeweler and asking him to engrave those two letters, with a really bad heart around them. 
showing him the picture of the initials carved onto the tree. you must treasure her. he had said and Leon replied, more than she’ll ever know.
“why do you still have these?” 
“because…they’re my favorite.” you couldn’t lie. out of the plethora of necklaces and earrings, you always reached for this pair. telling your fiance lies; oh, they were a gift from my father. 
“because they’re from you and i can’t let them go, i can’t…” you trailed off, looking down at his chapped lips. he was biting on the inside of his cheek, you could tell. you remember telling him so many times not to do so, you didn’t like it when he was anxious. 
you would always remind him that you were right there beside him, even if he was all alone. 
no words could explain what you were feeling right now. it was a mix of anger and sadness.
but it wasn’t the type of anger that made you want to lash out, it was the type of anger that made you want to cry and walk away. but the sadness was something else, it made you want to curl up into his chest and stay there. 
it made you want to go home. but home was where Leon was. 
Leon was the first man you’ve ever loved. you wanted him to be your first and your last. you remember looking at him and seeing a peaceful future. you thought, after you two split, that you were going to be able to start over again. 
with someone new, something fresh. but your fiance, he wasn’t Leon. he was great in his own way. he was handsome and kind. he was smart and caring. but he wasn’t Leon. 
sometimes, his voice would morph into Leons. his laugh would sound like Leon's. his pattern of breathing sounded like Leon's. you couldn’t escape him or maybe you just couldn’t let him go. 
“are you happy?”
his question caught you off guard, your eyebrows scrunched up at him, and you were slightly taken aback and sure that he meant something else. though, once you looked into his eyes you knew he was serious. “what?”
“does he make you happy?“ 
“stop.” you shook your head. 
“answer the question,” he gulped down the lump in his throat, searching for something and anything in your eyes to prove that he was wrong. 
“yes,” you stammered out. his hopes died then and he nodded slowly, understanding that there was no longer a place for him in your heart anymore. he was happy that you were happy, but he just wished you were happy with him. 
he let go of your hand, letting it drop to his side. 
“but,” he was taken aback when you reached back for his. you wrapped your hand around his pinky, halting him in his steps. “i’ll never love him like i loved you.” 
his eyes flickered up to yours, only to meet the top of your head as your head was tilted downwards towards the ground. you were fighting back tears, your bottom lip shaking. 
“he makes me happy but the very thought of you has me overjoyed,” you looked back up at him, a tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and the tip of your nose swelling red. 
“he buys me designer clothes but i still wear your sweatpants i stole five years ago i-“ you continued to ramble and Leon just listened, his heart fluttering with every word. he never thought he’d hear those words spill from your pretty lips. 
“i still come here almost every day to look at the constellations you showed me,” you sucked in a deep breath, “i drive by the house, our house,” 
you let the tears fall freely as his hand slowly intertwined with yours again. he thought you didn’t pay any mind to him, that he was just a lost memory to you, that you couldn’t care less about him but…
“i still have all your gifts, your letters, your trashy collectibles, i…” you paused to suck in another deep breath, your hands shaking in his but you calmed down at the wind blowing his cologne your way. he was here in front of you and finally, you could tell him the truth. the one you’ve wanted to tell him for a long time. 
“i wanted it to be you.” 
Leon's breath faltered as the words left your mouth. you wanted it to be him, not anyone else. 
without another word, he tugged you closer to him. it was a matter of seconds before his lips found yours, enveloping them in his warmth and passion. you reciprocated his kiss instantly. a tear falling down your cheek and meeting the corner of your mouth. 
he could taste the salty tear in your kiss, and it reminded him of the days he would spend kissing away your tears after you had a nightmare or cuddling you to his chest as you ruined another shirt with your tears.
his arms wrapped around the small of your back, bringing you closer to him as he pressed deeper into your kiss. he was holding onto you so tight to the point it was hard to breathe and even harder to stay put on two feet. 
his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, both eagerly and hungrily. as he did so, you opened your mouth for him. his tongue met yours in a wet frenzy, and he moaned into your mouth as his grip on you only grew stronger. 
you took a few steps back, feeling as if you were going to fall. he only followed you in pursuit, up until you had backed up into the tree. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. your kiss was becoming sloppy, with wet lips and fighting tongue. 
he gave your thigh a quick two taps and you knew exactly what that meant. you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and he smirked against your lips. the fact you remembered, even after all these years, drove him insane. 
you let him carry you wherever he wanted, you didn’t care to look or pull away from his lips. you trusted him. if he were to take you away right now, you would go. you’d leave with him and live the life you always wanted…with him. 
he pressed you up against his passenger door, unintentionally slamming your body into the metal. the only time Leon was ever rough was during times like this. desperation, hunger, and pure lust. his hand frantically searched for the back door handle. 
the minute he got it open, one minute you were pressed against the door and the next you were being thrown into his backseat. you landed on his leather seats with a loud thud, your chest heaving up and down as you stared at him. 
his eyes were no longer gentle or sweet, they were filled with lust and something devious. but also something so deep and passionate. he was hungry but he was never greedy. 
he slowly crawled into the car as you crawled away. he was out of breath, cheeks flushed and lips swollen pink. you looked up at him as he slowly crawled on top of you. 
he hooked his foot into the door handle and he pulled his knee up to shut the door. his eyes stayed on yours, he didn’t want to waste another word or breath. he slid his fingers through your hair, taking a hold of the back of your head. 
it suddenly dawned on you what had happened and what you two were doing. he was leaning down to meet your lips once again and you forgot. to you now, this was another late night, you two had just carved your initials onto the tree and he had just got his new car. 
he was still blonde and your hair was shorter. he didn’t have his bullet wound and you didn’t have a scar on your hip. you didn’t have this heavy ring on your finger and you were still young. 
you leaned up onto your elbows, meeting him halfway with just as much heat. his hand traveled up your thigh, guiding you to wrap your leg around his waist once again and you followed. just like before, you followed his every instruction. 
“god, i missed you,” he breathed out with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. he then traveled down your jaw, with slow wet kisses. your whole body shivered as he found that spot just south of your earlobe. you sucked in a shaky breath. 
“Leon, please,”
“patience, my love,” he tsked. your legs tightened around his neck, even though he said you needed patience, you needed him. you missed him so much, a part of that was the sex. the sex was fucking amazing. it always was, from the very first time you met until now. 
he fucked you in a way you could never comprehend. he knew just the right things that had the breath leaving your body and your heart leaping out of your chest. 
as he kissed at your collarbone, his hands were traveling up your sweater. large, hot, and rough. his hands felt like sand paper against your soft skin but god it felt so good. you let out a trembling breath as you ground your hips into the buckle of his belt. 
he groaned at the friction, grinding his erection down to meet your hips. he could feel your heartbeat pulsing at your heat through both of his jeans. it was evident that you both were in dire need of each other. 
his calloused hands cupped at your bare breast and he groaned into your skin at the feeling of your bare skin. something he hasn’t felt in so long, your warm and soft skin. his cock jumped in his jeans, just the taste of your skin has driven him crazy. 
he felt dizzy, he hadn’t breathed or blinked ever since his lips hit yours. he didn’t want to waste a single taste or glance. he circled both of your pebbled nipples with his thumbs, smirking at the small whine that left your mouth. 
“no bra, huh?”
“shut up,” you grumbled, beyond sexually frustrated. 
he couldn’t help but laugh as he dragged your sweater off of your body. he tossed it somewhere in his front seat and you could see in his eyes that excitement.
he stared at your breast in complete awe, your body was something Leon worshipped. you were his god and he was all but a simple beggar on the street. 
he always stared at you as if you were some distinct painting; taking note of every small detail, every mole and every scar. even if he’s seen you a thousand times, he always acts like its the first time he’s laid eyes on you. 
“my gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” he sighed, his lips meeting yours in a quick kiss, “how can you be so perfect?”
your heart fluttered at his words, he never failed to have you utterly speechless. 
you trailed your hands over his shoulders and underneath his leather jacket. as you slowly worked his jacket off of him, eyes watching every inch of skin slowly being revealed to you. his muscles flexed underneath his t-shirt as he shrugged his jacket off and threw it somewhere into the front of the car. 
he then pulled his t-shirt over his head in a quick and rushed manner, throwing it along with the rest of his clothes. he’s grown more muscle and definitely bulked up since you’d last seen him. he’s always been so perfect. his body was nice and toned, decorated with firm and chiseled muscle. he was like a marble statue, the ones in the museum with gorgeous proportions and sharp features. 
how can he be so perfect?
he leaned back over you, and rather than your lips in less of a rush of lust, he kissed you slowly and passionately. the feeling of your sensitive nipples brushing up against his warm chest made you shake and let out a small whine. 
his hand traveled up your side again, taking your breast into his palm, and squeezing your nipple between his index and middle finger. you shuddered, a small moan leaving your lips as his other hand traveled down to the button of your jeans. 
he worked his way around the hem of your jeans to take off both your jeans and your panties at the same time. you reached down for his belt, struggling to unbuckle it whilst also struggling to shimmy your pants off of your hips. 
the windows of the car were beginning to fog up, you could barely see the outside, any light shining through was only a smudged blur. it was getting harder to breathe and much harder to think. as you kicked your jeans off, you were quick to help push off his. 
you both were as loud as you wanted, the sound of moans mixed with wet kisses and heaving breaths. 
“i need you, i need you,” you panted out like a prayer. 
he kissed down your chest, bringing your nipple into his mouth while his hand soothed the inside of your legs — sticky with sweat and arousal. you keened under his touch, your thighs shaking and your clit aching. 
you clenched around nothing, desperate for his touch. in your mind, you were counting down the seconds until he touched you. counting each inch that his fingers traced up your thigh. it was when his fingers slotted between your damp folds you broke. 
a desperate sob left your lips and your hips bucked. he moaned into your skin, pulling away from your nipple with a pop. “so wet, all for me,” he breathed out, pressing a small kiss to your breast.
his fingers prodded at your hole, collecting the arousal that dripped when you clenched around nothing. he could tell you were so eagerly waiting for him. eyes gleaming down at him and watching his every move. 
his thumb found your clit and he applied the right amount of pressure that had you arching your back with a small wail. the leather of the seats were hot, there was condensations dripping down the windows and it smelt heavy of sex and his cologne. 
“tell me, tell me what you need, baby,” he heaved out against your cheek. 
“i need you, i want … you,” you replied, out of breath and strength. with that, his inserted one of his fingers, the small stretch was enough to have your jaw hanging open and your legs quivering out of control. nothing and no one has ever had this much of an effect on you, not even fear. 
but Leon, he could make you weak with a simple glance. 
as you clenched around his finger, Leon found it hard to breathe. you were so warm and dripping all over his palm, he could smell your sex everywhere in the car, it was sweet and god it was good. he screwed his eyes shut, trying to contain his composure but you were driving him wild. 
each moan that spilled your lips with every stroke of his finger, he was teetering on the edge of sanity. 
he inserted another finger, slowly and carefully. he didn’t want to hurt you, but watching as your eyebrows curled upwards and your head tilt back, he knew he was doing everything but hurting you. 
a deep moan spilled from your tongue as he curled his fingers up into your gummy walls. at the same time, his thumb pressed circled against your clit. 
“oh god, please-“ 
“calling on god in a situation like this is pretty sinful of you, baby,” he snickered. you wanted to slap him across the face for such a comment but you could barely process his words, your mind was too focused on the pleasure he was giving you and drooling at the thought of his cock. 
he could feel you pulsing around him whilst dripping with need. each curl of his fingers earned him a thristy moan and a squelch. he kissed down your neck, in between the navel of your breasts, and down you stomach. until he reached you abdomen. 
he sucked at your skin, hoping to leave a mark where it wasn’t too noticeable. the pressure on your abdomen along with the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you caused your legs to clamp around him. 
“fuck!” you whined out, carding your fingers through his hair. one of his hands traveled up underneath your thighs, bringing them to rest on his shoulders. your chest rose up and down with excitement, your heart thrumming up against the cage of your ribcage and sweat trickling down your face. 
you took a moment to admire him, kissing at your abdomen while his fingers circled at your swollen clit. he was so pretty. his blue eyes seemed to glow, even if it was dark. the moonlight shining through the foggy windows highlighted the messy strands of his hair and made out every feature of his face. 
his jaw, his straight nose and his hooded eyes. he was beautiful, in between your thighs, standing in the sunlight, standing in the moonlight, asleep or awake, he was just beautiful. 
his lips traveled up between your thighs, kissing at the fat and nipping at your skin. you jumped at the feeling off his teeth but still you loved it. his tongue ran along the small bite mark before he created another. 
“mmm Leon,” 
“shhh,” he soothed, nudging his nose into your plump skin. 
he removed his fingers from your aching cunt with a small pop and before you could whine in protest, he tapped the side of your thigh because he knew that you were going to whine.
once you shut up, he smirked against your inner thigh and brought up his slicked fingers up to your mouth. you opened your mouth and allowed him to place his fingers onto your tongue. 
you swirled your tongue around his digits before sucking your slick off of them. he groaned at the sight of you sucking his fingers, eyelashes batting down at him and face glimmering with sweat. 
“so dirty,” he smiled, blowing air onto your clit. you shivered at the sensation. 
he kissed down your thigh until his tongue found your clit, flicking at the bud with the tip of his tongue all while looking in your eyes to watch your reaction. you moaned around his fingers, lifting your hips — eager for more. 
“patience, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your clit while taking his fingers out from your mouth with a pop. 
he slowly crawled over you, leaving kisses in his path. he finally reached your chin, placing a kiss there and then to your lips. he sucked in a deep breath through his nose, letting his hand run down your side until he guided your thigh back around his torso. 
he stroked himself a few times, groaning against your lips. when his tip nudged your clit, you opened your mouth with a moan, allowing him to stroke his tongue along yours. 
“tell me if it hurts,” he whispered to you, you gave him a reassuring nod and he shook his head. 
“i need your word-“
“yes, yes! i’ll tell you,” 
he slowly sank into you, watching your facial expressions keenly. you were overtaken with pleasure, your jaw hanging open at the painful stretch but also a moan boiling in your throat from your ache being relieved. 
he reached up for the car window behind you, looking for some grip. he left a hand print on the foggy window as his fingers trailed down to the handle. a groan left his lips and he buried his face into your neck, “fuck, so tight.” 
your gummy walls were pulsing around him, making it hard for him to breathe. you were so wet and so warm, making it easy for him to thrust in without any problem. Leon felt like a teenage boy all over again, ready to burst within seconds. 
his swollen tip pressed against your cervix and a whine left your lips. your toes curled and you struggled to suck in a breath, “so good,” you managed to squeak out, clawing at his back to leave scars. 
he slowly rocked his hips into you, grunting at each small thrust. you wrapped your legs around him, begging him to go deeper even if it hurt. one hand stayed on his back while the other ran up the nape of his neck and into his hair. 
“god, you’ve always taken my cock so well,” he whispered out into your ear, with that he began thrusting into you, causing your body to jolt and bounce with every connection of your hips. they were so and deep thrusts. 
he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock and he wanted to watch your face contort as his tip hit your g-spot every time. 
you arched your back into a moan and he took this chance to wrap his arms underneath you. he wanted to keep you pressed to him, he wanted to feel you because he knew this would be the last time. he knew you’d both regret your actions once the passion has died down but he wanted to live in the moment. he didn’t want to think of consenquences after this. 
he just needed to feel you one last time. 
“faster,” you begged, kissing the lobe of his ear. chills ran down his spine at the feeling of your hot breath and your dragged out words. he obeyed without question, pounding into you at a pace that has you sobbing. the car shook underneath you guys and both of you were sure any hikers could hear and guess what was going on inside his tinted jeep. 
“this pussy’s so good, fuck,” he seethed through his teeth, opening his mouth to bite down onto your collarbone. 
“mm fuck,” you whined out, tossing your head back and clenching your legs around him tighter. you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, with every thrust there was a wave sent through you. you could feel him in your bones. the tension was only getting tighter, your limbs were on fire but you liked the burn. 
you tugged him away from sucking at your breats and your chest, guiding his lips to yours in a rushed manor. you wanted to taste him. his teeth clashes against yours but it wasn’t long until you both found a rhythm. 
he moaned into your mouth, ignoring the ache in his chest from the amount of air. you were his air. he could breathe when he was around you, he felt light. you were his fix. you were his drug. you were his lifeline. 
you controlled whether his heart beat or stop. you controlled whether he was happy or sad. you controlled his mind, body, and soul. you had complete control over him and you just didn’t know it. 
you parted from his lips, a string of saliva snapping back onto your chin. “it’s too much,” you sobbed. you watched the inner corner of his lips twitch, almost as if he was about to smile. he brought your legs up over his shoulder, positioning you the way he wanted that way he cold fuck into you deeper. 
this new angle was enough to put you on the egde, a tear slipped past your eyes and your pupils had rolled back into your skull. 
“you can take it,” he heaved out, as he continued to piston into you. your brain was mush, you couldn’t speak or reply back to him. the only thing on your mind was the feeling of his cock stretching your walls and the sound of his voice. 
“Leon,” you stammered out. you were clenching around him tightly, your legs shaking and your moans spilling out nonstop. he knew you were close, he could tell from the look on your face. completely fucked out of your mind, not a single thought processing.
“my beautiful girl,” he reached down for your clit, “come for me,” 
he kissed another tear slipping down into your hairline as you whined beneath him. your breath was caught in your throat and you could see stars waltzing behind your eyes, you gushed around his cock while moaning out his name. 
he gripped the leather by your head, every taut muscle in his body relaxing as he spilled his hot seed into you. he pressed his tip deep to your cervix, hoping you’d feel every hot rope he gave you. he kissed at your cheeks slowly, slowly rolling his hips into you as you both came down from your highs. 
he was buried in the crook of your neck, heaving out deep breaths and in between them he said, “i love you.” 
your heart sunk. you could physically feel it. your blood ran cold and there was a pain in your chest. 
“i, i have to go,” you could feel his eyebrows scrunch against your shoulder as you sat up from underneath him. you hurriedly reached for your clothes as your sinuses began to sting and tears welled up in your eyes. you were so so stupid. 
how could you have done this? how could you sleep with another man when your wedding is in mere months? not just any man, but your ex. 
you struggled to slide on your panties, you skin still sticky with sweat and cum. 
Leon let his head drop as he listened to you struggle and cry. he reached out for you, “honey, wait-“
“no!” you smacked him away, turning to face towards him with tears in your eyes. “i’m sorry, we should’ve never done this, i’m so sorry,” you broke down and before you knew it he was scooping you back into his arms. 
you wanted to push him away but you had no strength, physically and mentally. “i should’ve never came here and-“
“shhh,” he soothed the back of your head, coaxing you into laying your head onto his shoulder. 
“it’s my fault for still-” you paused suddenly. Leons breath hitched and his body went still. 
“still what?”
“i’m sorry, Leon.”
you pulled away from him, refusing to look him in the eyes. it hurt too much to face him. he doesn’t know how much power he has over you. you couldn’t hide secrets or say no. you couldn’t lie to him. it breaks you to lie to him.
it hurts that you still love him so much.
you reached for your sweater in the passenger seat and throwing it on. 
“answer me,” his voice cracked and with that your heart shattered. you couldn’t turn around and see him crying. you just can’t. the hem of the sweatshirt sat on your tits as you put on your jeans. your throat was aching and you were trying not to cry. you felt like a child.  
“do you still love me?” he reached for your hand, stopping you from reaching for the door. you turned to face him, your eyes now puffy with tears and your lip trembling. you tried so hard not to let the tears fall but it was too late. he watched as you swallowed back a cry and let your hand fall from his. 
“goodbye, Leon.” 
those were the same words you spoke to him when your relationship ended years ago. it was like slow motion, his brain was catching the final moments of you. it was so odd seeing your back profile, even if he’s seen it so many times, it was odd to see it when you were leaving him. 
you left Leon there in your once shared apartment. 
now you leave him in a foggy car that smells just like you. 
as the door opened, he was hit with the fresh night air, cooling the sweat on his body. the smell of fresh pine hit him along with the smell of your perfume. there were sounds of croaking frogs, trees dancing in the wind, crickets, and your choked back sobs. 
then the car door shut. there was silence all around him. he was stuck watching your foggy figure fade away, watching you get into your car and drive off without looking back at him once. he remained frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 
all he could do was let a single tears run down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. he leaned back into his own car seat, looking up at the roof with a heavy sigh. 
here comes the storm, once again. 
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(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)
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I’ve written about this a lot before but it bears reiterating now.
I’ve seen some takes that essentially say Taylor was callous because she broke up with Joe because he “couldn’t get over his depression” and how cruel that is when she said she loves him.
And I think that a lot of the people who think that are identifying with Joe, and empathizing with him and suffering from a version of somewhat understandable main character syndrome. I see this a lot in advice on how to be there for someone struggling with their mental health. It says things like “keep reaching out even if they ignore you. They appreciate it.” “Keep inviting them to do things even if they say no” “Continue letting them know you are there for them to talk to even if they repeatedly shut you out.” And I’m not saying this is bad advice, but it makes it sound like there is one person who struggles with their mental health surrounded by supporting characters who are 100% healthy and able to give an endless supply of emotional energy and that they never have mental health struggles that are impacted by this. (My mental health for instance tanks when I reach out over and over and get rejected because I feel like no one likes me)
From what I can tell from her music (which by the way is the only indication we have that Joe struggles with his mental health, so if we are accepting that premise we need to accept everything else she says about it) Taylor followed a lot of this advice for a long time.
Years of labor locks and ceilings
Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away
Always rising from the ashes
There was nowhere for me to stay but I stayed anyways
And she tried and tried until it was having a hugely detrimental impact on her mental health which she relates
She discusses how she had to revert into a dream world because of the impact of it:
I dreamed about it in the dark the night I felt like I might die
She talks about how holding on to the relationship made her feel:
I know my pain was such an imposition
My white-knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment
My spine split from carrying us up the hill
Wet through my clothes weary bones caught the chill
She had a huge amount of anxiety about the relationship so much that her friends noticed how it was impacting her
My friends say it isn’t right to be scared every day of a love affair
My friends tried but I wouldn’t hear it/watched me daily disappearing
She got to the point where she wasn’t sure he even wanted her
Every breath feels like rarest air/When you’re not sure if he wants to be there
Is it really your anxiety that keeps you from giving me everything or do you just not want to
I wouldn’t marry me either
Her mental health was deteriorating, so if Joe deserved a partner that would support him when his mental health was struggling, doesn’t Taylor? There’s no evidence that he was able to give that to her and she felt very misunderstood by him
My face was gray but you wouldn’t admit that we were sick
How can you say you love someone you can’t tell is dying
You never read into my melancholia
Nobody noticed my new aesthetic
You say you don’t understand and I say I know you don’t
He don’t understand me
A pathological people pleaser/who only wanted you to see her
Why is his mental health considered more important than hers? One person doesn’t get to call dibs on being the one with mental health problems while the other person is assigned to be the supporting character forever.
It’s also clear she had hopes and dreams for a future that involved marriage and kids that he couldn’t or wouldn’t give her. So should she should give those up so as not to leave her partner who is depressed and be labeled a bad person?
It isn’t his fault that he’s depressed but Taylor clearly has mental health struggles too and one is not more important to the other. They were unable to be good partners to each other due to this, so ending it was the right thing. Were there better ways to do it, yes! But she was clearly struggling so incredibly much that I for one, will give her grace and understanding
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“In my life, I love you more”
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summary: Toji has been thinking about marriage lately. Genre: Fluff, angst, Toji x black!stepmom reader, fem reader
cw: nothing fr, Toji is a little sad but it fixes itself, mentions death, there’s cursing, gojo 🤢
word count: 0.9K
A/N: the parasites keep WINNING.
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Fiance!Toji who lowkey acts like you’re already married. He and Megumi live with you, you sleep in the same bed, and he feeds your dog. Not to mention, he never corrects anyone when they refer to you as his wife.
Fiancé!Toji who realizes out of the blue he wants to marry you. He’s known you for about 5 years and has been exclusive with you for 4. Megumi and him have been living with you for almost 3 years. Besides, He hates how “girlfriend” or “stepmom” feels on his tongue. 
Fiance!Toji who thinks about how nice your surname sounds. Zenin has never felt comfortable. He cherishes Fushiguro, however, it doesn’t stop him from imagining what it would be like to be referred to as “Mrs.___ Husband”. 
Fiancé!Toji who’s been calling you his wife for the last 6 months. He has a habit of calling you wifey, but it was more of a nickname. At first, you thought it was him fucking with you, but he seems a little too serious about it. 
Fiance!Toji who proposes to you randomly. You and him were watching Paranorman on the couch as Megumi was asleep in your arms when he looks over at you. He about proposing often and since he has no sense of decorum, now seems like a good time. He casually asks “You wanna get married?” You damn near cry and knock his head off. 
Fiance!Toji gets rings for the both of you and takes off his old one. You tell him that he doesn’t have to get rid of his old wedding ring. You won’t be offended if he wants keep it. Toji doesn’t think much of it. He’s always been the type to leave things behind. What’s so different about it now? 
Fiance!Toji whom you gave a thin gold chain necklace with his old ring attached. You put it on him while telling him, “he doesn’t need to abandon everything. He can still keep her close to him.” He thinks about giving it to Megumi when he’s older. 
Fiance!Toji who’s both ecstatic and disappointed you don’t want a big wedding. Fantasies die hard. One of his few good childhood memories was of a Zenin clan wedding. The bride and groom dressed up while music played and everyone gathered around. For a second, it felt like they were an actual family. Although, Toji realizes that neither of you has the luxury of finances or close family to participate. 
Fiance!Toji and you plan to have a small family dinner as your wedding. You’ll go in a white dress while he and Megumi wear three-piece suits. You’ll all eat and then go home as a family. It’s small but sweet.
Fiance!Toji feels nervous about the wedding dinner. He confides in you that he feels like he’s cursed. He has no cursed energy, his first wife died, and he can barely raise his son even now. You comfort him saying “We’ll get through it. That’s what couples are supposed to do.” He doesn’t completely believe you, but it puts him at ease nonetheless. 
Fiance!Toji is pissed when he picks up Megumi from school and learns that the news of your marriage has spread. Megumi barely talks, how the fuck do all his teachers know?
Fiance!Toji finds out that Megumi’s best friend, Yuuji Itadori, snitched. Now he has to deal with not only all of Megumi’s teachers wanting invites to the dinner, but the loud-mouthed kid wanting one as well. 
Fiance!Toji who tells you this and you burst out laughing. The idea of Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru hounding him for an invite to the wedding is comical. He doesn’t get it. In the end, he can’t say no to you when you say, “Let's invite em, it’d be nice to have people celebrate us.” 
Husband!Toji who when the day comes feels conflicted. He thought he would feel more excited and annoyed. However, he feels comfortable, almost happy. He watches as Megumi and Yuuji sit at the table coloring in the kid's menus. Gojo and Suguru are annoying but Nanami, their plus one, keeps them in check. Yuuji’s uncle, father, and his wife have decent conversation with you. The whole thing feels almost homely.
Husband!Toji who leaves with you when the restaurant closes. Y’all were only supposed to stay for an hour but everyone wanted pictures of the happy couple and the unofficial bridesmaids.
Husband!Toji who stays downstairs as you put Megumi to bed since you said you had a surprise for him. You come back down and give him a bouquet of red and white roses. 
Husband!Toji doesn’t expect anything else, but you take him to the backyard of your shared house. You’re both still dressed in your wedding clothes. You say your vows as you grab his hand. You look up at the night sky and thank Megumi’s mother. You hope that you’ll be half the mother and wife she was. You promise to her that no matter what you’ll cherish and keep Toji safe. 
Husband!Toji who for once in his damn life is silent. He has no words, so he does the next best thing and kisses his bride. 
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nrilliree · 21 hours
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https://www.tumblr.com/dreamfyre-beautiful/748866149787353088/problems-i-have-with-hotd-so-far?source=share
This post is killing me !
Alicent is not a good person.
Helaena is barely a character in the original version and she never had any autonomy.
The point of dancing is not to have a smalfolk perspective, stop with this fucking hypocrisy.
Criston Cole is not even a fucking member of the smalfolk ! Wtf ?!
Then the problem with Laena is not that they try to make her look older than Rhaenyra in episode 5, in fact canonically in HOTD she remains younger than Rhaenyra, so what are you complaining about ? Plus this comment is completely stupid, because Laena is older than Rhaenyra in the book ! You know ! The original version ?!
Um... A mother who abandons decorum for her child ? Alicent doesn't do what she does for Aemond by wanting to take Lucerys' eye and attacking Rhaenyra. She's been doing this kind of thing for 10 years already. She literally uses what happened to her son to try to take down Rhaenyra by making up lies saying that Lucerys ambushed Aemond to try to kill him and then she brings it all on herself, poor woman who has no did what was expected of her all these years. It mostly looks like a woman taking out her frustration on another woman, rather than a mother defending her son, we need to stop the bullshit.
So... Laena didn't die killed by Daemon. She died of a complicated childbirth, like many women of the time. She simply accelerated the death process by getting burned by Vaghar (for somes stupid reasons...). And Laenor didn't even die in HOTD, and people always seem to voluntarily forget that yes, certainly Daemyra had this plan together, but that Laenor there accepted and left of her own free will !
Then, it's crazy this obsession to repeat that Rhaenyra is trying to take the title of Corlys for Luke and therefore that she is taking it from the twins Rhaena and Baela... The TG really has a problem with legitimate heirs, huh ? Rhaenyra was designated heir to the throne by Viserys and Lucerys was designated heir to Lord of Tides by Corlys himself ! What isn't clicking in your head about that ?! Rhaenyra doesn't steal anything from anyone for her sons !
And his rant about "the new promo saying "[team black] acts more like family" maybe my family is weird but we don't fuck or get married at all" Um... wtf ? Yes, the TB is more of a close-knit family than the TG, there is not even a debate to be had over it and sorry but does this person forget that there is incest also among the TG ? Not only because of the marriage of Aegon II and Helaena, but also simply because Aegon II openly flirts with Baela, you know, his uncle's daughter? (I say this because a lot of TG claims that Aegon II is actually disgusted by incest and is only with Helaena out of obligation. So yes, the marriage to Helaena is arranged, but clearly this boy didn't have problem with the incestuous costumes of the Targaryens and Westeros This is shown by his reaction when he learns that he is going to marry Helaena and that he flirts with Baela / sexually harassed her). Aemond even since have a crush on Helaena in HOTD, so... no incest in TG ? Let me laugh !
And oh poor people who are full of the fact that the dragons in their team have no development ? We're going to see Sunfyre in season 2, it's confirmed. Then Dreamfyre plays no fucking role in the dance, just like Helaena. Welcome to reality. This show neglects dragons in general anyway, a shame when this show normaly talks about their extinction...
And still the madness of talking about the fact that Alicent doesn't have the right to terrifying childbirth scenes ?! So, the show is about the Targaryens, especially Targaryen women. At least she's supposed to ! And it makes sense that women who died in childbirth or had complications during childbirth are entitled to on-screen scenes about it. Alicent is not a Targaryen and didn't even have a complicated birth so get the fuck out.
My god the TG really have a problem understanding the basics of this story...
I have a blocked user, so I will not refer to @dreamfyre-beautiful's post, but to what you write.
1) If you feel satisfied by forcing a woman who has not yet delivered her placenta to give up her newborn baby (knowing the history of her siblings, mother and both grandmothers) or march through the entire castle - you are not a good person. If you allow one son to bully another until no one sees it - you are not a good person. If you are planning a coup and usurpation of the throne, sending your children to war because you will not bend the knee- you are not a good person.
2) Helaena is probably more of a character in the show than she was in the book at this point in Dance. She was always barely a character.
3) Criston is not a smalfolk. He belongs to a family that was the banners of the Dondarrions. It's not smalfolk.
What amuses me the most is when someone is both team green and team smalfolk, because… it's impossible. I'm not saying that team black was wonderful for the smalfolk, because during the war you can't do that, as ASOIAF has shown more than once, but it is the green team that is responsible for the vast majority of suffering among the smalfolk.
It was Aemond who burned the Riverlands. It was Daeron who burned Bitterbridge. It was the TG people who committed the Tumbleton massacre. It was the TG people who plundered Spicetown. It was Aegon who ordered the building of large golden statues of war criminals during war and famine.
These were all crimes against smalfolk.
And TB? Rhaenyra raised taxes because the Greens robbed the treasury. Alternatively, you could add the Greyjoy plundering to this.
4) In my opinion, there were some problems with Laena's casting. The actress who played teenage Laena was almost the same age as adult Laena, and the actress who played adult Laena was much older than the actresses who played Rhaenyra and Alicent. She was undoubtedly beautiful, but a little too old for the role.
5) Alicent doesn't even scream to Rhaenyra about Aemond's harm. He screams about his own, putting his own suffering above his son's in that moment. With her attitude, she forced Aemond to comfort HER.
6) Okay… I understand people say Viserys murdered Aemma, but how could Daemon murder Laena…? After all, he cared about saving Laena, not the child. He talked to the maester about this. What did he use to murder her? Because he got her pregnant? They already had two children, in the series Baela and Rhaena are apparently not twins, so it's no wonder that he thought that the third birth would also be problem-free.
7) Rhaenyra didn't take anything from Baela and Rhaena because… Driftmark was never theirs. They are Targaryens. Lucerys is Velaryon. Corlys chose to legitimize his own bastard rather than give Driftmark to his grandchildren, so where is Rhaenyra's fault? Even if she didn't want Drifmark, she had to fight for it, otherwise giving away her son's inheritance would be suspicious, right?
8) The marriage of a niece and uncle is less incest than the marriage of a brother and sister. Even outside the Targaryen family, nieces married uncles and cousins married cousins. Even Tywin Lannister was married to his cousin. And even if the marriage of Aegon and Helaena was arranged, she is not wind-pollinated and he fathered her three children.
9) I wrote about dragons here, I think it was about the same post: https://www.tumblr.com/nrilliree/749167004582297600/i-saw-a-post-complaining-that-the-show-goes-above?source=share
10) Aemma's birth was necessary because she died that way. Laena's birth was necessary because she died that way. Rhaenyra's birth was needed to show Alicent's cruelty and Alicent's objectification of Rhaenyra's children. Alicent's delivery was not necessary. And seriously, three birth scenes for six episodes was enough. Definitely. I feel sorry for every pregnant woman who watched the series.
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tac-the-unseen · 2 days
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Gary 'Roach' Sanderson Sfw alphabet
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
He’s actually pretty affectionate. Any chance he has to hold your hand or kiss you, he takes it, including missions. He’s told you he takes just a little bit of time to love you because ‘I’ll never know when our time has come.’ He wants the last memory you have of him to be a loving one, and he wants his last to be spent thinking about his unending love for you.
And don’t think for a second that because he can’t talk he won't praise you. He leaves you notes or texts that tell you just how much he really loves you. He puts sticky notes on all the doors he knows you'll walk through. Every mirror, the fridge, your desk, computer monitor, windows, everywhere he knows you'll see them.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
You two got close to each other while on a long mission. It was hard not too, Saving each other's lives on the daily can really bring people together. You ate every meal together, watched out for each other, took your time to understand what he wanted to say. You were able to build trust in each other fairly quickly because of this. By the time the mission ended it felt like you two had known each other forever. You were able to slip into a routine with him fast, becoming the first and last person you spoke to every day. It wasn't long before Gary started to catch feelings for you.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He likes cuddling, He doesn’t love it but he likes how it easily communicates his love for you. It's simple, but when you're with a guy that can’t speak, every little thing he does is noticeable and a declaration of his affection. The reason he doesn't like it too much is that even though he is normally cool as a cucumber, he can get overwhelmed pretty fast. He tries to let you know it’s not your fault, but it's hard to communicate that when he's overwhelmed. So even though he loves giving you physical attention he might pull away from this kind.
Sleeping is the exception to this, He always cuddles you at night. When it comes to cuddling positions he loves to hold you and wrap his whole body around you.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Yes and No. He loves you, but he also loves his job. He loves the thrill and adventure and doesn’t want to give that up. He’ll buy you a house, he’ll live with you, but he will yearn for adventure. If at some point he’s on leave or simply allowed to go home he’ll take a break for like, a week. But after that he’s planning hikes, camping trips, rock climbing, stuff like that.
He's an okay cook, he's great on the grill though (His steaks are to die for).
He can clean, the military is really strict about cleanliness. If you need something cleaned up or otherwise taken care of, just point and he's on it.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He breaks up with you face to face. He makes a list of the reasons why it wouldn't work. He makes it gentle and softly gives you the news. He feels bad about the break up and because he's awkward gives you a 50 dollar gift card to your favorite store or restaurant.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
He is willing to commit to you, but he will take his time to make sure you're the right one. He might be fast in a relationship but when it comes to marriage he takes his time.
When he’s sure he wants to marry you, he will plan everything out meticulously. He will secretly get your ring size, figure out what kind of ring you want, and what your dream proposal is. If you don't have a dream proposal he will combine his own dream and the things you like.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Gary’s soft with you. He opens up to you and lets you open up to him. He’ll use sign language or notes to tell you about his past and feelings. He tells you about what he wants to do with his life or what he wishes to do with you.
When it comes to physicality he's still soft with you. He loves to hold you and softly touch you. Gary loves to hold your hand and hug you from behind. It's the easiest way to communicate his love for you.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
He loves hugs but tries to make sure he touches you in appropriate times. It's hard to find the right times when you're fighting for your life all the time. When you get back to base or back to home, He's all over you. It's these times when he's okay with cuddling and prolonged touching.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
When teaching you to sign he left out how to sign ‘i love you’ because he didn’t want it to feel like he was forcing you to say it or that he was love bombing you. He was secretly signing ‘I love you’ but you didn’t have to know that. you aren't fluent in sign so it's not like you noticed.
He was being sent on a mission where he wouldn’t have any contact with you for several months. You two were outside while other soldiers entered the awaiting helicopters. He was in all his gear, mask up, and an ACR strapped on his back. After you had signed your goodbyes and he was at the entrance of the helicopter, He turned around and signed “I love you so much”. He didn’t expect anything to happen after as normally nothing did. Until you signed back ‘Love you more.’
In truth he hasn’t stopped thinking about that day.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
If put on a scale it would be 6/10. He's not insanely jealous, but he can't help the pit in his chest he feels when you're talking to another guy. He can play nice and not get deep into it, but as soon as the guy starts flirting, his nice act is out the window.
A fellow soldier decided to make a sudden and not at all anticipated comment on your ass…while Gary was in ear shot. It took Gary all of 3 seconds to send the guy flying and knock him on his ass. Gary was reprimanded as the soldier lost 4 of his teeth in that fight, Oh and the broken collarbone didn’t help either.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
This is the one part of the relationship (besides Marriage) that took the longest to happen. This is because it involved taking his mask off.
Once he was comfortable with you and the idea of seeing his face, he'd let the mask go and kiss you. It was actually the first thing he did when he took off his mask.
You two were in his room, sitting on his bed, you two had a long talk about his face and trust. After this Gary removed his mask and eye gear and held your hand. He took a breath then kissed you softly and passionately. It was a Huge milestone in your relationship.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Gary is okay around kids, He can handle them for bits at a time, but kids don't seem to like him that much. Kids don’t like the silence, it unnerves the little ones. But he's kind and careful and has told you that if you want kids he'll do better with them.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
He just wants to hold you a little longer, To spend these gentle moments with you for as long as he can. He's the one telling you to come back to bed, pulling you back into bed and into his arms. He makes grumbles and noises of pleasure when you slither back into his arms. He may not be able to Tell you he loves you, but the kisses, noises, and cuddles speak for themselves.
Once he's out of bed and stepping into the day, He’ll get into his chores and start cleaning up from the night before and help you in your morning routine. Once he's done cleaning up and you're cooking breakfast you better believe he's hugging you from behind.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Gary has a tough time going to bed. You have to convince him to come to bed and get some sleep. You can get him to bed by reminding him of the warm mornings or promises of intimacy.
He will slowly do his nightly routine to prolong the inevitable. He'll take his time cleaning up, showering, brushing his teeth, a little bit of skin care, then begrudgingly climbing in bed. His apprehension is swiftly thrown out the window once he is in your arms and in a warm bed.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
It depends on what he's opening up about. Because He primarily uses sign language and writing to talk to you he can easily edit but for the most part he's pretty open with you. However there are something he would never tell you, no matter how close you guys are.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He is even tempered most of the time, He rarely gets angry outside of the battlefield. When he does get angry it's not at you and is never taken out on you.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Gary remembers the little things, he’s hooked on every word you say. He writes what he thinks is important down. If you like to talk, well great, he likes to listen.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
You had found a box of kittens while on a mission. You had taken and hidden them from your teammates and captain. Gary found out about this when one night he caught back at base cooing of a blanket that meowed back.
You had explained yourself and told him you just wanted them to be safe and you were trying to find them a home. He kept the secret and helped you care for the kittens. You made the kitten get a good home and occasionally get updates about them. He loved seeing you in a Domestic light and liked feeling like a parent even if it was only for a few days.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He's on guard all the time, He is a war criminal. He can be a silly little guy then into a serious scary soldier.
Physically: He will defend you till his last breath. He will do everything he can to make sure you're safe.
Emotionally/Mentally: He will make sure he's always there for you to lean on. His soft, loving personality gets even more soft and loving. He makes sure to free up time just to check on you and hold you.
When it comes to his safety, just knowing you care is enough for him to feel better.
Physically: He would rather die than have you put yourself in danger to save him. But if you do, he will enterally appreciate you and your love for him.
Emotionally/Mentally: He doesn’t like asking for help but when he does, it should be taken very seriously. Sometimes he just needs someone that nods while he signs away at what's troubling him. Other times he just needs to have someone to hold onto.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Depends on why you're having a date night. Obviously he’s not going to pull out all the stops for a casual date night but he's not doing the bare minimum either.
He puts in the appropriate amount of effect for your dates and makes sure it's something you'll enjoy.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He has a habit of sneaking food. The military trains soldiers to simply inhale the small portion of food given to them. Even though there is extra food he waits until he thinks no one is looking to ‘steal’ another piece. Everyone knows, no one says a word.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
The mask is really just to keep his identity safe. Even though it takes him a while to take it off, that's mostly to make sure he can really trust you. He is not too concerned with his looks but that doesn’t mean he has no concern about his looks.
Gary never really thought to care about anyone's opinion, but that changed fast when he developed feelings for you. He can and will clean up if you ask him to.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
It's a slow burn when it comes to this deep level of attachment. At first you were just this really cool friend, then best friends, then partners. You fell deeper and deeper into his heart before you became the center of it.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
He communicates mostly through sign language, which he made sure to teach you. He took you step by step, getting you to understand how the language is ACTUALLY structured. He loved watching you try and figure out what he said and how to respond.
Outside of work, Roach has a couple deaf friends that he take on hikes and fishing trips.
If you ever get married, Ghost is his best man.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Someone unwilling to learn sign. Its his main way of communicating and its frustrating to write down everything he wants to say all the time.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
He has to be practically dragged to bed if you want him to sleep.
The best way to get him to bed is too softly play his favorite music, lay down, and give him puppy dog eyes.
What is he going to do? Say no to you and that pretty look on your face? Absolutely not, he's flying into that bed.
Thanks for reading <3
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rerinko · 3 days
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There may be some slight grammatical errors i'm going to go back over it soon!
Chappell Roan “Good Luck Babe”: The song “Good Luck Babe” by Chappel Roan has blown up online. I personally love the song and I love Chappell Roan. I love seeing any sapphic media in general but especially lesbian specific media. One thing that has come along with the success of this song has been debates online. Debates about comphet, biphobia and lesbiphobia. I couldn't help but join those debates but I quickly learned short form comments aren't the best way to express your opinion coherently.
I saw this one video on TikTok that I can no longer find. It may have been deleted. In this video this bisexual woman on TikTok talked about how she kept seeing this idea that if you identify as bi but you're unfulfilled by relationships with men then you aren't bi. She also brought up how consistently marriage hasn't always been the best for women and just because she is straight doesn't mean a woman will be fulfilled by a relationship with any man. It's also biphobic to say so due those reasons. The lack of fulfillment I reference when talking about the realization that you are a lesbian is very different from the lack of fulfillment straight or bi women can experience in a relationship. A woman who likes men can be unfulfilled in a relationship with a man but that reason does not boil down to the fact that they are a man. If you are a lesbian a man could be perfect, they could provide everything, treat you amazingly, you could even have a good sex life and think you're in love but still no matter what there's something wrong. It's not him or his actions, it's the fact that it's “a him” in the first place. The reason why so many women never realize they're a lesbian is because it's so normalized to be unfulfilled in a relationship with a man. But being is a lesbian not just being unfulfilled with men but being unfulfilled with men in a way that you aren't with women. Straight or bi women have the ability to truly love and be fulfilled by a man. Lesbians do not. This is not to say every relationship is fulfilling. Just because you're with the gender you like, you like this person and you're in a relationship doesn't inherently make the relationship fulfilling. Relationships are complicated and many of them can bring more stress and pain to one's life than love and happiness.
I have seen many TikTok comments say comphet isn't a lesbian only experience and any queer people can experience and I simply do not agree. Lesbians are unique, it is the one sexuality that doesn't include men. The entire world is structured around men, this is a man's world. Women to this day in Canada and the United States can't get sterilized without their husbands consent. Realtors and car salesmen will automatically talk to the husband even if the wife is the one with the money making the purchase. When a woman gets married she takes her husband's last name. From a young age women are socialized to centre their entire life around men. From what we wear, to how we speak, even down to our interests we're taught to change it for the fancy of men. I grew up watching romance movies and I always wanted my own Prince Charming. It seemed like in every show I watched aimed at young girls the happy ending was the main girl getting the guy she wanted. We're never our own people. We are first the property of our fathers then our husbands. But isn't that the issue? When you're a lesbian there is no husband. There is no fairy tale ending, there is no Prince Charming, there's no man to stand up for you against misogynistic men in general. When you realize that you feel like a failure. You want to fit in. You want to talk with your girl friends about your boy crushes and gossip with them. You want to be one of the girls, you want to be normal, you want to like a boy. So you do. You choose one or someone just happens to be available and at first you like the attention. You like the butterflies because you've never held hands romantically before. You even think about him at night and imagine what your first kiss would be like. Then your first kiss actually happens and something feels wrong. You try again and again and nothing makes sense because you thought you liked him. Then you kiss a girl and it all makes sense. I wished I was bisexual, because I at least could've had a chance of marrying a man.
Men can be men. They don't need a wife, sure it's an add on but it's more like a trophy or an accessory they bare. Men can find success while single, they can be respected while single and they don't need their wives consent to do things. Gay men don't have to mourn privileges they will no longer gain because they are gay due to their gender. Men in general will never have to worry about so many things women do. Comphet isn't just being closeted it's about survival in society. It's about you being in denial because your entire life you've been shown there's only one way to be happy and that's to love a man and you'll never love a man. I'm sure all of these issues get even worse in more traditional cultures where men have all of the power making ability.
Bisexual women also face homophobia. I have spent much of this talking about bisexual women liking men but I do want to highlight the fact that bisexual women are also queer. Bisexual women share in the pain of being a queer women. They are often fetitzhed by men even by men they're in relationships and like lesbians assaulted due to the fact they like women. I don't think bisexual women are any less queer than lesbians but I do believe we go through different experiences. We both share the joy and pain of loving women but bisexual women will never understand the pain of not liking men.
Chappell Roan is a lesbian who makes songs about the lesbian experience. I've seen some people talk about the bridge and how they didn't realize it was about a lesbian and instead thought it was about a straight woman.
“When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night
With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife
And when you think about me, all of those years ago
You're standing face to face with "I told you so"
You know I hate to say it, I told you so”
This commenter expanded by saying they just assumed it was about a straight woman who had lost her identity to her husband. I could understand how someone could come to this conclusion after one listen but I think after another few listens you can completely tell this song is about being a closeted lesbian.
This song to me almost feels like a secret summer love affair. One person wants to tell everyone and scream about their love from the rooftops and the other isn't ready to come out. They aren't ready to call what they have love because if they actually admitted it they would be admitting they never truly loved a man. They would have to come to terms with the fact they won't have a “normal” life, they won't have a nuclear family and no matter what not everyone will approve of them. These two people then split down two different paths. One accepts who they are but the other goes on to live a lie. They marry a man despite who they truly are and this bridge is the manifestation of the betrayal of your true self.
Someone's personal interpretation is different from the intended interpretation by the artist. Having your own interpretation is completely valid and it's one of the main things that draws peoples to art. But when art is made with a specific audience in mind actively speaking over those people and saying “oh well I think it's actually about this.” Is just whataboutism. Not everything has to be about everyone and you can relate to something without it being about you.
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zephyrrr101 · 16 hours
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A take on Rhaenyra's usurpation and the coming line of succession
I don't usually take sides. I do not. And I'm sorry for the long scroll you've got to do. But reading the succession line page of Fire and Blood kind of makes me very sad.
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People can argue whatever they want but saying 'Aegon's ascent was disputed by his half-sister Rhaenyra' rather than 'Rhaenyra's ascent was disputed by her half-brother Aegon' is the worst thing that could happen to her.
Everyone can say whatever they want and I'll take your opinions in consideration, respecting it with grace, but Rhaenyra was the rightful heir till the end of Viserys I's reign. Whether it is the show or book, she remained being one. Despite Alicent doing it willingly or mistakenly, Rhaenyra does get usurped.
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This sentence here makes it quite clear that Viserys didn't care about what the Lords of Westeros thought and to be honest, as a king he really does not need to. (And it really does not goes into the point of Maegor doing as he wanted) The king's is the final word when it comes to Monarchy. If Viserys says Rhaenyra is the heir, she is the heir. Jaehaeyrs, named Baelon his heir instead of Rhaenys, Aemon's daughter, because he wanted to, he brought the Council of 101 because he wanted to. Just as Viserys names his daughter his heir because he wanted to. For if he didn't, had Aemma not died, had he not married Alicent, Daemon would be his heir. But this was his first and foremost decision after losing his wife and child.
Many say that if Rhaenyra couldn't bear to do sacrifices then she should have given up her claim but there is one thing that we need to realise.
Rhaenyra was the first ever woman to officially named heir.
Surely, there have been many women who were names heir presumably before.
Aerea/Rhaella Targaryen was heir to both Maegor and Jaehaeyrs.
Rhaena, Aenys' daughter, could have been also considered his heir until Aegon the Uncrowned was born.
But Rhaenyra's accession as the heir is pointed out in book being lavish and how many lords did bend their knee to her. Rhaenyra's accession as the heir and future reigning Queen was a way to open a door, to pave a path for all the other woman born in House Targaryen to be able to get the heirship.
It is not a small thing. It is a duty that she has been given. A duty not just for herself but for all the girls, all the women who might have been born before their younger brothers and could be passed over by them just for the fact of them being woman.
I won't say she didn't make mistakes. She did. But even as a character we need to understand that we read about a human. She did what she had to, to salvage from whatever she was given.
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She was given a shitty situation, to be honest. Married to a man who unofficially known to be gay, even the council knew of this when the matter of her marriage was called upon the discussion.
And to be honest, if I were in Rhaenyra's place, being given the ability to change the laws of succession, being able to prove that I could be better than what everyone thought if me, even I would give up my stubbornness and deal with hand that I'm dealt with.
Rhaenyra had more to lose than anyone in this situation. And she would not only bring herself down in this situation but also the other women who would come after her too.
And that's what exactly happened even after trying everything she could.
The line of succession page in the first two images is exactly what ends up happening because some people couldn't bare the thought of Rhaenyra, a woman, ascending the throne.
Because either willingly or mistakenly, Alicent Hightower wanted her blood on the throne as Viserys himself says this in the book.
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When we read this highlighted line, we must understand this that Alicent either had talked to Viserys about it or showed it from her actions. And this is being talked pointedly about the book. Not the show. The book.
Rhaenyra's refusal to accept Aegon's accession is no way wrong. She is the rightful heir. It is her right. Something she is given by her father. Something her father didn't want another person, much less his own sons, to have.
And this is usurpation.
This usurpation, The Dance Of The Dragons, it leads to the future kings, Viserys II and his council to consider not putting Aegon III's daughter Daena at the throne after all her older brother were dead. He rather installs himself as the king and then his son, Aegon IV.
Of course, she and her sisters were kept away from the world, all the thanks to Baelor the idiot (I refuse to call him blessed), she could still have learned. She was loved by small folk. Some lords even supported her. But only because her grandmother had been usurped, only because men were too afraid of what would happen if she were to become a reigning queen, too plauged with past to even do the right thing, she too was passed over for her Uncle.
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Well here ends my Ted talk.
And for my works and a very shameless self-promotion here's my masterlist
Lots of love 💕
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jomiddlemarch · 1 month
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for danger is in words 
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“My wife’s name is Mary,” he said, first in English, before he noticed and then again in the Portuguese she would understand. There was a something about her face that told him he perhaps hadn’t needed the translation. “Not so different—”
“You did not call me by her name,” Mariko said, a reassurance he should not have needed, but it had been a long time since he’d tumbled a woman and Mariko had touched him in ways he had not imagined, given him pleasure with hands he would have thought devilish clever except for the look in her dark eyes as she’d stroked him. Tenderness and wonder, as if he were precious, an unexpected marvel, not a scarred sea-pilot with manners too rough, too eager, for the subtle Japans.
“’Tisn’t proper to speak of her now, I warrant. After pillowing,” John said, using the term Mariko had. She was a widow, even if not as merry as widow as one would find in London or Amsterdam, so perhaps she had done nothing untoward by her rights, but it didn’t seem polite to hold a woman in his arms, her bare skin more delicate than her silk robe, the taste of her yet in his mouth, and talk of another.
“Men’s tongues wag after congress,” she said. “Unless they sleep.”
“You gave me great joy,” he said. It sounded awkward, formal, but his Portuguese did not run to either poetry or the sweet-talk lovers used, endearments and admissions. Praise was used quite differently here and he didn’t want to risk offending her.
“I thought I must,” she said. “You were very loud.”
He laughed, a low, rumbling chuckle that startled her, a sudden tenseness in her shoulders. He would not have been able to tell if she were wearing her usual robes, standing across from him, but naked, pressed against him, it was undeniable.
“I suppose I was. I offer my most sincere apology if you’d have it,” he said.
“You did nothing wrong. Many cry out at the peak,” she said.
“You did not,” he replied. She had made a very soft sound and he’d felt her body surge around his, her hands tightening on his back, her neck arched. The moonlight through the paper screens had not enough power to give him any color, but he’d felt her flush even if he could not see the roses in her cheeks, the hue of a Tudor blossom down her throat and across her full breasts.
“Did your Mary?” she replied. For once, perhaps, it was not a challenge nor a game whose rules he was meant to discover mid-play. She was curious, about Mary and about English women, about the world he’d left behind. What he’d told her about the Thames had not slaked her thirst but whetted it, but she wanted more than details of a silver river in a filthy city, a jeweled Virgin Queen on her throne. She wanted to know about the bed he’d lain in, conceiving his children, the bedclothes rumpled, the rushes on the floor with their wilting herbs. Mary with her bright chestnut hair unbound, a spatter of freckles across her cheeks, her eyes light. He couldn’t recall their blue anymore.
“Not at first. She was shy, ‘til she learned to like it,” he said.
“To like pillowing?”
“To like make noise. To letting me know I’d pleased her. Or that she wanted more,” he said. Mariko shifted and sated as he was, she stirred him. It would not do to think whether each gesture was studied, a courtier’s or a courtesan’s. He would not know unless she told him and she would not tell him if he asked direct. That at least, he’d learned, how little appreciated was the confrontation, even if his only goal was the discovery of her appetite, her delight. 
“Without you, she is quiet,” Mariko said.
“She is virtuous, a respected matron. Her bed is empty but she is quiet only in that regard. She’s known for her wit, her temper,” he said. Mary would like to be rendered so, even if she sulked to learn he’d shared his bed with another. 
“You miss her,” Mariko said. At least, he heard it thus. The word she chose was one she paused before uttering and he wondered how deficient she found Portuguese to her purpose.
“Less than I ought,” he admitted. “All is dross that is not Helena,” he added wryly, mocking his own inconstancy, ruing the comparison that Mariko posed, in every way lovely and quick, fair and bright and with untold depths he would never plumb.
“I do not understand, Anjin,” she said.
“A line from a play, from home,” he said. “I mean to say, I do my wife a disservice, but one I cannot regret.”
“Because you pillowed with me?”
“’Twas not only such for me,” he said. If he were fluent in her language, still he would struggle to explain to her what he had felt during their coupling, all words platitudes in their attempt to contain the ineffable. He would have felt embarrassed to describe it so except that he felt most himself surrounded by the sea and the horizon, by those things elemental—water and salt, air and star. Something in her answered him, even if it was an aspect she had withdrawn behind her bloody fence, and that was more powerful than any ecstasy.
“To a starving man, a crumb is a banquet,” she said.
“And now I know you have never had a hungry winter,” he replied. He’d had his fair share as a child. He didn’t mention the desperate straits they’d come to before being taken in by the Japans, the men turning in their hammock as if winding their own shrouds about their bony carcasses. “A crumb to a starving man is not a banquet but torture and lying with you was neither feast nor agony.” He leaned in and grazed her temple with his lips, traced the curve of her cheek with his forefinger.
“Sweet,” he murmured.
“You are gentle, Anjin. More gentle than I expected,” she said. He thought of how she’d become very still when he’d brought her palm to his lips and when he’d drawn her close to nestle against him as they rocked together on the cusp of abandonment. He thought of how she’d touched the scars on his back and arm, the ones on his ribs, his belly, the question in her eyes unasked, unconcealed.
“I would have you call me John,” he said. 
“I am not your consort,” Mariko said. 
“That is why I ask. It is not a demand,” he said.
“Only now,” she said. She looked at him and took a breath. Her lips parted, as if invitation. “John.”
“We agreed now is the only time there is,” he replied and pulled her to him, tasting his name on her tongue, sighing the pleasure of it into her mouth and stroking it down her back.
The cry she gave when he brought her to the crest was sharp, like a wheeling gull’s, and so shocking that he spent in the next instant, his groan swallowed into silence. He lay panting, his cock still hard within her, his hand at her waist when she moved to whisper in his ear.
“John. Only now.” 
Shout-out to @aquitainequeen for her post on early 17th century theater and what John could have seen/quoted. I went full-throttle Dr. Faustus, as she suggested he'd had loved that!
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gunstellations · 3 months
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a little family
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fictionadventurer · 8 months
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There's something about reading really great writing that's so relaxing. You can just sit back and let the words wash over you, knowing that you can trust the writer.
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brother-emperors · 8 months
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ALRIGHT okay I will attempt to explain this to the best of my ability, which is currently being held together by tape and coffee
so I have a long running post philippi story focusing on the octavian-antony divorce arc conflict and it's heavily dramatized and full of dead people. it's one part historical, one part my own invention, and one part fucking around with ideas (or the lack there of) in movies about antony and cleopatra. many of which are bad! however. there is a bad one that's actually good. like, I wouldn't recommend it except that I talk about it constantly.
it's the 1953 movie, Serpent of the Nile and I have not known peace since watching it. it's one of the more interesting takes on antony and cleopatra (TO ME), and more importantly: I'm obsessed with the plot point where antony helps lucilius escape egypt to warn octavian.
this scene is partially inspired by that! this scene is partially inspired by several things, but that's the one to mention bc I haven't published any of this story except for the periodic scene I've drawn for fun so listing the rest of it will not add to this experience and also I’m very sleepy right now
the egyptian wall backgrounds in the first page and the last page are of a tomb wall painting, the third page uses an illustration of the death of antony for shakespeare's antony and cleopatra, and on the second page is actually my own painting of antony and cleopatra after giambattista pittoni's painting of antony, cleopatra, and the famous pearl incident
additionally, that last page. the floor. that's a relief commemorating the battle of actium. I'd been reading about depictions of actium and it is. intriguing, especially since my first thought wrt to all of that is usually abt the bodies in the water and how they'll never be buried or antony's parthian fuck up setting the stage for all of this.
also this specifically. fascinating.
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Representations and Re-presentations of the Battle of Actium, Barbara Kellum
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findafight · 2 years
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QPR stobin in their forties, married since, like, '87, finding out about qpr language. They see someone mention it or just stuble upon it on the internet and go oh!! That's us! That's what we have! :) Because they're still involved with lgbtq activism, and are like oh!! These young people have words for what we are isn't that amazing!
I think Robin would find out that sometimes people call their queerplatonic partner "zucchinis" absolutely hilarious and never refer to Steve as anything else. He's her zucchini. Her sweet yam. Her pumpkin pie. Steve giggles at it and says "because we're fruity!"
They don't get divorced to get married to their romantic partners because that's a hassle and also they don't want to. What would happen to the children. To the cats. To the fish the cats long to eat that they are expressly forbidden from eating because their mother and father are cruel and deserve jail for a thousand years. They are each other's PERSON, no romantic relationship will change that. This causes some stir when it's revealed Steve is Eddie's partner and also Steve has a wife. Eddie Munson, beloved queer metalhead/rocker is a homewrecker?? They try to explain! They do!
Steve is like 'okay well we were best friends and soulmates and very queer in the 80's it was just easier to get married especially seeing as I wanted my parents to have nothing to do with anything incase I died, so no brainer. We already lived together, it didn't really change anything except we were able to adopt!" "But don't you want to marry someone you actually love?" "I love Robin more than anything else besides our children??" "Not...what about Eddie?" "Yeah I love him he's my partner. But I don't want to marry him I'm already married to Robin." "But you aren't in love with her" "not romantically no. We're what the kids call 'zucchinis'" "I'm sorry what" "zucchinis! It's what some people call a queerplatonic partner! Like, a life partner that isn't romantic but is still the most important person! Rob thinks it's a very funny name and I gotta say, with the unconventional nature of this type of relationship I agree it fits."
Steve gets on twitter and is like "sorry to everyone who doesn't understand platonically spending your whole life with someone but I'm different" and then logs tf off and lets people freak the hell out in the replies.
And Eddie is like yes my partner is married. No he's not cheating. Yes we were together when he got married. No I'm not jealous. Yes I knew he was getting married I know you know this I was the best man. No he's not getting a divorce to marry me now same sex marriage is legal. Yes I'm fine with it. No it's not a problem. Yes I understand ya'll don't get it. No I don't actually care you don't get it. Yes Robin and Steve are the most important person in each other's lives. No I'm not hurt by that they were like that when I met them. Yes I love him. No I'm not worried they're actually in a secret heterosexual relationship that's ridiculous and stupid this interview is over.
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