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#self acceptance is a long road
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I’m watching the opening concert for World Pride and feeling aaalllll the semi-closeted raised-Catholic feels.
Courtney Act’s Broadway style number ‘we’ve always been here’ actually brought tears to my eyes.
This is bloody powerful
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bloobluebloo · 4 months
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Anyways it's going to be *great* when the passive blame that is already being largely placed on Arab and Muslim Americans (and the many people who just cannot consciously vote for someone who not only actively endorses a genocide, but whose party has spent so much time denying the fact and pussyfooting around the matter even from the most progressive candidates) who refuse to cast a vote for Biden becomes active and vehement blame instead of directing that anger and rage towards the political system that was allowed to degrade to a state where people have been essentially brainwashed to feverishly advocate for a candidate that has endorsed and actively funneled money towards a genocide and has not reversed any of those "Muslim bans" enacted by Trump that they love to bring up and has people at his rallies drowning out cries for a ceasefire with "4 more years" because the other guy will do the same but worse somehow. It's the people's fault, for not voting, of course.
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The funny thing about jason is that his logic is often extremely cop-like but he thinks he's exempt from thinking critically about his decisionmaking just because his identity is so far from a police officer. He's the fucking definition of "I could do it better" and all his good intentions rot immediately after he takes action. And I'm sure if you told him this he'd blow your brains out immediately.
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itsukicoded · 1 year
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🥮.
#every other day im pulling myself apart thread by frayed thread until all the worms spill out of me that i’ve been holding together for this#long. and i acknowledge that’s there’s a large part of me that doesn’t wish for healing anymore. im sick of analyzing my every thought#feeling and emotion im tired of thinking of everyone else or trying to tell myself to be less erratic i don’t want anymore journal prompts#to explain my behavior don’t want to look at how my anger towards someone has some childhood trauma behind it im sick of doing this sort of#thing the problems i have now can’t be solved w ‘understanding’ anymore the over understanding is a part of the underlying issue#im sick of having to become a ‘better person’ or reaching my darkest self and help be become more ‘empathetic to others’ i don’t want to be#a good person i want to be messy i want to scream i want cry i want to make massive mistakes stand in the rain until i get sick i want to no#call no show at work i want to break windows trespass on abandoned property run down a dark road at night drive to a different place and#sleep in my car i want to smash a plate on the sidewalk i want to lose my fucking mind why can’t that be healing? is it too unsightly? will#i inconvenience someone if they knew my feelings? i don’t care to be helpful i don’t want to be kind anymore i want the concept of goodness#to gasp for air underneath my heel im resenting the angel that gouged a hole in my chest im corrupting her pouring a hot searing black oil#down her throat maybe she won’t survive it. these aren’t feelings i can express at 24 i was supposed to have my emotional outbursts like six#years ago when i was a kid. im only losing control on the inside though bc embracing my ugliness is only acceptable if im becoming sweeter#if i can be a beacon for someone who’s hurting. if im becoming beautiful if i carry a magnetism that makes ppl look up to me want to be me#they can’t tell me that it’s okay to feel like holding my face underwater in a stream somewhere secluded. that im allowed to smash things#with a metal bat. that leaving people to cry alone is the only way to have myself back. because kindness is the most important thing in the#world i mean nothing if im not kind. my heart is useless if i haven’t ripped it out and neatly sliced it for someone else’s napkin im#infuriated thinking abt this maybe it’s my own toxic traits showing up maybe im triggered bc someone is telling me ‘be nice’ as if i haven’t#been fucking doing that my entire goddamn life. you have no advice for me? ‘set boundaries be kind’ and for the starving rabid animal in the#pit of my stomach? can i feed her by being kind to others? if i give everyone the share in her bowl then what? how many more years of this#can i take? ‘be kind have empathy’ is there no advice for the storm that brews in my soul? i don’t want to be good or beautiful i want to be#ugly i want to be cold i want to be self centered i want to be angry and selfish i want to paint myself black and burn myself at the stake i#want to be human like everyone else that doesn’t wonder how their lives affect others living without the peripheral vision of a rodent who#still gives a fuck abt being good? why did it mean that much to me anyway? i mean i know why I understand myself very well it’s everyone els#ha oh there’s that me vs then dichotomy again#……..#maybe i should eat something#or set something on fire#i should make dinner eat and pretend this didn’t happen just like always im okay and i’ll be fine like always#deleting
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realestgirlalive · 1 year
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having to rebuild self confidence is the most arduous task for someone who’s just a teenage girl
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saintobio · 4 months
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sincerely yours. (9)
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↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 
tags/warnings. profanity, usage of alcohol, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut
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series masterlist -> episode ten
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Satoru had a major problem. 
And it was his self-control. His lack of self-control was the reason he had engaged himself in an adulterous relationship back when he was married. His lack of self-control was the reason why you had become the recipient of his unreasonable anger in the early stages of your marriage. His lack of self-control was the reason why, out of all the women in the world, he was now sleeping with a friend of yours. For God’s sake, his lack of self-control was probably the reason why you were also pushed to your limits, choosing to cut your marital ties with him and leaving only the scraps of his role as a parent to Sachiro.
Back when he was attending his weekly therapy sessions, his therapist told him that part of what he needed to learn was to control his impulses, resist temptations, and actively exercise his willpower. They were easier to achieve then than now, since he was the loneliest man at the time with no friends, no wife, no son, and no bustling company to run. His decisions remained untainted, his temptations unchallenged, his emotions uninfluenced—a solitary journey at its finest. He was all by himself. How come? It was because he was sent by his mom to Osaka to temporarily seclude him from his harrowing memories in Tokyo, compelling him to sever ties with the outside world and immerse solely in personal convalescence. Reflecting now, it felt no different than being sent to a psychiatric hospital.
He could say it worked at the time. He learned how to keep his emotions at bay. He learned how to control his thoughts, throwing away the bad and keeping only the good. He was a new man by the time he returned to Tokyo, prepared as ever to take on his role as the Chairman of the Gojou Group, ready to once again try and live a normal life. But the moment news had spread about his ex-wife's marriage to his business rival, all the self-control he had painstakingly cultivated seemed to have evaporated in an instant.
Everything also went downhill after that. 
He wasn’t going to list down all of the things that happened nor the impact it had on him since you yourself were a witness to them. But if he was going to look at the way your return has changed the trajectory of his life 3 years after you first left, he would still at a hundred percent put all the blame on his shoulders. None of this domino effect would end up like this if he had been a faithful and loving husband in the first place. The pressure from his father was not the only root of all this, the branches also extended to his corporate greed which ultimately ruined his chance at a fruitful marriage with you. 
But at least, the chaos should have settled by now. You chose to move forward and he decided to respect your decision by finding his way to another. This should free you both from the emotional torture that had you imprisoned in each other's cage for the longest time. He would still be there for you as the father of your child, but otherwise, he was happy that you had Toji Zen’in by your side to fill in the marital gaps that he had failed to complete. 
A heavy sigh escaped his lips. The warm water fell on his body in rivulets, soaking him completely so early in the morning as he decided to take a long shower. For how long? He couldn’t tell. He could stay there for hours if need be. He had to let his mind wander on its own, with a hand pressed against the wall, and another stroking his white hair back. Despite accepting the fact that Toji now owned your love and affection… well, wasn’t that son of a gun too lucky? Did he even realize that the woman he would marry was once Satoru’s entire universe? 
Ah, but who cares? Satoru scoffed inwardly, leaning his head back to let the water hit his face. He had Akemi, so why did it matter if you had Toji? He wasn’t bitter. He was just trying to reason with himself that you deserved to be with someone you really, truthfully loved. And he deserved that, too. Maybe not now, but at the perfect time, he could relive the life of a married man after learning from his mistakes the hard way. A much better one. A married man who would never in his life betray, hurt, or ruin his partner. A doting husband who would offer his whole life just to make her happy. He promised to himself that Akemi should have that kind of man from him. 
Though, he could ask himself, how far was he from achieving that? He did practice his self-control last night when joined you in the pool—his face, inches away from you. Hand gripping your hip. Eye-to-eye. Skin-to-skin. Your warm breath fanning his cheek. Just another step forward and your lips would touch. But he didn’t let that happen. He mustered all of his power to pull back from the gravity that was drawing him closer to you. Still, he couldn’t deny that you looked absolutely gorgeous last night. As the moonlight illuminated your face, he could swear that the stars also sparkled on your eyes. They must be from the tears you were desperately holding back, but either way, you were still so goddamn beautiful. He almost couldn’t keep his eyes off you last night and had to distract himself from looking at your lips, your collarbone, your chest, your curves…
“Fuck.” 
Talk about self-control. 
Satoru had none of that right now. His body reacted involuntarily to the thought of you last night. The sensual thought of you. The what-ifs.
What if he had wrapped your legs around his waist and enveloped your lips into a passionate kiss? 
He took a deep breath, still holding onto the wall as his other hand traveled to his growing member. 
What if he had carried you all the way into the living room and laid you naked on the couch? 
Closing his eyes, his hand started moving on its own, stroking his hardened cock and feeling every ridge as he pleasured himself. 
What if you had let him devour you? Let him roll his tongue on your entrance and taste your sweet, sweet flesh? 
Gojou let out a moan. A quiet yet desperate moan when he continued to jerk himself off faster and rougher. Damn it. He had to keep it low and he better not be heard committing such a sin in the bathroom. Although, he was confident that you were still sound asleep next to Sachiro in your bedroom, so he didn't think you would hear the noise he was making.
After all, it was shameless to know what was driving his feral thoughts right now. Thoughts of you letting him slide his tip along your entrance. Thoughts of him ramming his cock inside your tight cunt, being squeezed by your soft, velvet walls. Thoughts of your breasts bouncing wildly as he continued to hit your most sensitive spot. Fuck. Faster. He would have taken you on all fours, too. He would have let you ride his hardened shaft. He would have pressed you against the sofa and put your legs above his shoulders, letting you milk his cock with the tightness of your cunt. Satoru would release his warm seed into you in every position. He would shoot every drop of his cum straight to your womb, no doubt impregnating you for the second time around. He would absolutely love that. He would love seeing the residues of his wanton desire for you seeping out of your pussy. He would be at bliss watching your belly grow a few months after that, knowing that he had created yet another beautiful life inside of you. 
“Y/N…” 
Awakened by his senses, Satoru opened his eyes and saw the sticky white mess on his hand and on the wall. What the hell did he just do? More importantly, what the hell was he thinking of? 
No one should know about that. Not you, not even Akemi. He didn’t cheat on her, no. He didn’t do anything with you. That shouldn’t be counted as cheating. He didn’t even touch you. And he wasn't even officially dating Akemi.
No, no… 
Absolutely not.
Drowning into a pool of guilt, the first thing he did after that sinful shower session was to contact his supposed girlfriend not-girlfiend. And to make things even more awkward, you entered the kitchen in silence at the right time, carrying a sleepy Sachiro in your arms, unaware of the dilemma that was sending your ex-lover into a spiral.
“Morning,” he greeted almost inaudibly, clearing his throat and taking a sip of coffee afterwards. He had to think straight. 
“Morning,” was your simple and oblivious reply as you went about your daily morning routine. 
Gojou, on the other hand, was typing on his phone because Akemi wasn’t answering his FaceTime calls. He had completely forgotten to update her all day because he had been a little bit too occupied the moment he landed in America. She must be overthinking why he hadn’t reached out to her until now, and he felt extremely awful and responsible for that, but she couldn’t be fast asleep that early, right? It was 7:00 a.m. in New York, so that meant it was only 9:00 p.m. back home. 
He nervously rang her number once more, mumbling a ‘please answer’ as he watched her caller ID appear on the screen. 
“Dada,” called Sachiro, looking at him as his mother sat him on the high chair to prepare his breakfast. 
Still holding his phone, Satoru walked to his son and placed a gentle kiss on his tiny forehead. “Morning, Sachi. Did you sleep well?” 
The toddler nodded at him, drinking milk from the baby bottle that he was holding with both hands. His eyes were wide and blue—quite the same hues of blue that would remind you of a clear sky. Satoru couldn’t help but pinch his adorable son’s cheeks. 
And while you were busy picking out food from the pantry, Akemi finally answered his call after the fourth attempt and showed her beautiful, soft features on the screen. His eyes immediately lit up at the sight of her. “Hey, how are you?” 
He could tell she was still a bit distant and upset because of what happened two weeks ago, when she claimed to have heard him say your name during his sleep. He already made an excuse for it as he also didn’t know why he even did it in the first place, but Akemi was still understandably hurt. He couldn’t blame her. 
“I’m fine, how are you?” she tiredly asked, seemingly heading towards her bed. “I just got home from work, that's why I wasn’t answering.” 
He could see, in the corner of his eyes, that you were glancing at him but he didn’t return it. All of his focus was on Akemi, feeling bad that he hadn’t exactly been a good partner for her lately. Especially after the shit he just did in the shower this morning, but that was a secret that was meant to be buried. “Alright, did you have dinner already? It’s morning here so I’m having breakfast.”
She offered a small smile albeit the visible exhaustion on her eyes. “I did. How’s Sachiro doing?” 
“You wanna see him?” He walked closer to his son, showing him on the screen as his big blue eyes stared at the woman on the other end of the line. “Sachi, say hi to Auntie ‘Kemi.” 
“Hiii~” Sachiro happily greeted Akemi, while the latter cooed at the sight of his son. She spoke to him with a gentle and motherly tone, weaving warmth and love into her words. It made his heart full knowing that Akemi would wholeheartedly treat his child as her own, because if there was a slight possibility that she wouldn’t, she knew that Satoru would rather let her go. His child was still more important than any other woman. And so if his future partner couldn’t accept the fact that he had a child with his ex-wife, then they shouldn’t be in his life after all. The case was different with Akemi because she was already your friend and she had the chance to see Sachiro grow up before Gojou even knew his son existed at all. It was a bit complicated, but things turned out to be easier on the part of acceptance. 
The only problem was you. 
Because by the time the call ended, Satoru could tell that you weren’t in the best mood as you ate breakfast next to Sachiro in complete silence. Your eyebrows were curled into annoyance, and yet your eyes held sadness in them, an expression that had become difficult for him to fathom. Were you jealous of Akemi? He assumed you would say no, but your expressions showed otherwise. 
“Y/N,” he called for your attention, hoping that you would look into his eyes for a little bit. Yet, not a chance did you do. “What’s our agenda for today?” 
You seemed irritated, if anything. You refused to look at him as you gave a curt reply. “I communicated everything you needed to know via email. You should have checked it instead of letting Miwa do everything for you.”
Jeez. You were definitely angry. “Okay.” He cleared his throat once more. “I just asked in case there was a last minute change.” 
“There isn’t. I would have said so if there is.” 
“Right.”
Satoru didn’t know how to act in front of his ex-wife anymore. Now that he had seemed to ignite your pique, he chose not to say anything else further as you two finished your meals and cleaned up after yourselves. The only time he spoke again was when he offered to bathe Sachiro so that you could focus on yourself. 
You agreed. 
And he did his part. 
It was simple give-and-take. A transactional relationship, if you must. Nothing else would blossom from that except your responsibilities as parents for Sachiro. 
——
The New York trip was already as awkward as it was. And it only just started. 
To be fair, it wouldn’t have been as uncomfortable if only Gojou had not decided to make it so. He was the one that made the atmosphere unpleasant by trying to savor every inch of closeness he could get to your skin, only to pull away as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t care about how it made you feel. He even had the audacity to lecture you on how to go about being good parents and setting a good example to Sachiro. Then suddenly, the next morning, he would act like such a loyal and caring partner to Akemi. 
The thought of his loyalty made you scoff on the inside. He should be the absolute last one to be saying that. He should be the last one to profess how much of a loyal man he was trying to be to his new girl. 
Besides, even before this trip was arranged, you had already made it clear on your mind that the sole purpose of going to New York was for Sachiro's sake. Any interaction outside the need to be there for your son would be unnecessary. He wasn’t someone you still needed in your own personal life nor did he need you in his. Your past relationship no longer mattered in this situation and all that was left was for it to be forgotten. But even with your resistance to be anything more than a parent to your son, Satoru still respected you. He still showed, even in little ways, that he cared about your comfort throughout the trip. 
Five days had gone by, and everything you did in New York had been smooth sailing, all thanks to his grand number of connections across the USA. In a short amount of time, Sachiro’s surname had been legally changed, and everything else concerning his birth certificate had been corrected. The only issue left to address was your son’s nationality since Japan doesn’t permit dual citizenship and Sachiro would have to carry a Japanese citizenship and the Gojou name to be able to inherit his father’s assets and multinational conglomerate. You would leave that one up for Satoru to deal with, but everything else had been settled on your end. 
Although this trip wasn’t exactly a vacation, Gojou insisted that you two still take Sachiro out to explore the city he grew up in. And you did so by going to Central Park, telling your ex-husband stories of how you used to bring Sachiro there in a stroller when he was still a little baby and that plenty of strangers, both locals or tourists, would coo at him the minute they took a peek at his adorable face. You also took him to the Empire State Building to get the best view of the entire New York City, and Satoru being Satoru couldn’t leave without taking a family photo with you and your son, capturing the beautiful urban cityscape behind you. You could see it in his eyes that even though he was happy to be there, he was also melancholic at the same time. Almost three years of his son’s life were spent in this famous city, without him, and it was as though the bitter memories of those three years for him were haunting him back. Sadness was reflecting off of his crystal blue eyes as he took a minute staring at the view of the city, reminding you that you were the reason why he had missed out on his baby’s first memories. 
If guilt could literally eat you alive, you would have been devoured. 
“Ready to go, Sachi?” Satoru asked your son, tucking his phone away after having (seemingly) sent Akemi a text message, probably updating her of where he was and what he was doing. In fact, he had been texting and calling her every now and then, as if he was doing his best to reassure her that he wasn’t doing any funny business with you. Has Akemi always been a possessive partner? Even with your years of friendship with her, she had never acted that way in her past relationship. So, was she only like that to Satoru specifically? You wondered if she would go nuts had she heard Satoru tell you how badly he wanted to make more babies with you on your first night here. 
Sachiro nodded, clinging to your hand while reaching for his father’s. “Dada, hand pwease!” 
Satoru did offer his hand, but mirrored the surprise on your face when your son tried to link your fingers together, urging you to hold each other's hands like a couple. You didn’t want to get too offended by it, but your ex-husband was the first one to pull away. “I, uh, made a reservation for us in Carbone,” he said, unable to exchange eye-contact, “Yuuta will meet us there.” 
“Oh, he’s in New York?” you asked, pretending you didn’t notice how he acted allergic to your touch and redirected your attention to your son. “Did you hear that, Sachi? Uncle Yuuta will come and see you.” 
Your little one was oblivious to the world, too distracted by the throng of people surrounding the place that he didn’t even notice how his parents were uneasy with each other. To say that you didn’t feel bad for your son was a lie, because it actually broke your heart. Even if you and Satoru were working on co-parenting and making sure Sachiro wouldn’t feel the gravity of a broken household, you knew that when he reached the right age, all of this would still have an effect on him. One day, he would still be asking questions about his parents. Questions about why you separated, why your marriage failed, and why you had to move to New York while his father stayed behind. It hurt. Deep inside, it hurt so much to know that your only son wasn’t given the chance to have a complete family and it felt like a failure on your part as his parent. 
You were sure that was what Yuuta thought, too. As you met with him at a fancy restaurant in the city, you could see how his face lightened up seeing his nephew bonding with his parents as if it were a family vacation. He must have known what it was like to have a broken household. In fact, he had lived in a toxic one before, but he still grew up to be a mature and dignified young man who never let the horrors of his family’s actions affect his rational thinking. So if there was anyone in the world who would sympathize the most with Sachiro, it would be Yuuta.
“Sachi,” he spoke to your son fondly, wiping the sauce on the toddler’s chin. Yuuta chuckled as he watched the little boy's grimace after being given a small piece of broccoli. “You don’t like vegetables?” 
You fixed the bib on your son’s neck. “He does, but he’s very picky with it,” you tell Yuuta, glancing at Satoru who was busy speaking on the phone with Nanami about what appeared to be matters concerning the company. “Wonder where he got it from.” 
“Right.” Yuuta’s eyes turned into moon crescents as he smiled. “I remember nii-san being a little picky.” 
“You hear that Sachi?” you teased your son, who looked at you with his cute puppy eyes. You knew that if you had the ability to peak through his toddler mind, it would actually be full of fried chicken. The thought made you laugh. “Don’t be like daddy, okay? Sachi needs to have his veggies so he’ll be strong when he grows up.” 
“But…” Sachiro pointed to his father. “Dada is stwong.” 
Satoru chimed in at the conversation after having finished the call, “That’s right, Dada’s strong. Mommy could barely even handle me.” 
“Do you even know what we’re talking about?” You rolled your eyes, while Yuuta wanted to giggle, but chose to hold it back seeing the awkwardness of the situation.
Satoru shrugged and sat on his chair, eyeing the scrumptious dishes that were served to your table. He was acting like he hadn't been served more expensive meals before. “Have you tried the spicy rigatoni before? I heard it’s famous here.” 
You casually answered. “Yes. Toji used to bring me here every time he visited.” 
Look, you didn’t mean to overshare nor did you mean to make things even more awkward. You also didn’t mean to slap it in his face about how you were spending your years in New York with Toji. But Satoru, with his pride, took it resentfully. 
“Oh, really?” His words were the opposite of his voice. He was mirthless and full of unenthusiasm before changing the topic, redirecting his attention to his step-brother instead. “How’s Harvard?”
Yuuta eased the tension by making small talk, sharing details about his university life, and making sure he didn’t contribute to the growing tension. “I’m really just trying to survive this semester so I can go back home as soon as I graduate.” After taking a sip of his Cabernet Blend, he continued, “Like I promised, I’ll help you with the company.” 
You were happy, at least, to know that Satoru and Yuuta had fixed their relationship as step-brothers even after the whole incident with Nana, Eula, and their father. What used to be a relationship full of envy and competition finally became one that was full of mutual trust and support. Yuuta deserved that since he never once wished for his brother’s downfall, while Satoru also deserved to have a family member that had his back and helped him with the business without constantly fighting about inheritance. Because technically, Satoru was the sole heir of the Gojou family, and his dad only made it seem as though he would give it to Yuuta to make his own son comply with his orders. Satoru’s dad was controlling in that sense, and that was what led to all of this. 
But the present was more important. Things have changed and mistakes have been learned. It was all up to you on how you were going to manage your new life moving forward. 
Only, if only things were a little bit different on his side.
——
You had raised your son all by yourself for the last 3 years, so the presence of his father wasn’t really something you were used to for the longest time. How Sachiro acted around other people was solely a reflection of your teachings, discipline, and guidance as his mother. He didn’t really have a paternal figure up until now, and even if Toji was there to support your journey to motherhood, he never fully meddled with your mother-son relationship nor did he act like a replacement to Sachiro’s biological father. He loved him like his own, but respected the fact that the spot was reserved for Satoru. He knew that. He understood that, because he himself experienced raising a child alone without the presence of a mother. And if you asked him, he, too, would not want Megumi to replace the very love that he was supposed to have for his biological mom. Sure, Megumi could love and respect you, but Toji would still want him to save an unnegotiable spot for his mother in his heart. After all, she had birthed him. And in that same way, you had birthed Sachiro and created him with Satoru during your marriage. If there was anyone Sachiro should look up to, it had to be his father. 
And quite frankly, the father himself was doing an excellent job. 
But then again, remembering how hands-on Satoru was to you during your pregnancy, you never doubted that he would be a good parent. He may not be a perfect husband, but he loved his child with all of his heart and soul, and he would risk it all just to keep him happy. 
It was new to you how, throughout the trip, you didn’t have to take care of Sachiro alone. You and Satoru helped each other harmoniously, attending to your toddler’s needs and making sure he was being prioritized. You were glad. Truly. You were grateful to see that he wasn’t an absent father and that his words weren’t empty when he promised you that he would be a responsible dad to him. 
Though, at the back of your mind, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he welcomed another child in this world? A child that didn’t come from you? Deep inside, it hurt you to imagine him neglecting Sachiro on the side the minute he welcomed a new baby with Akemi. The reality was, the father would always prioritize the child of the current wife, not the child of the ex-wife. He would still support him, sure. But would he still pay the same level of attention that he was giving Sachiro now? You would probably break in half if Sachiro was thrown to the agonizing realm of feeling like an outsider in his own family because no child deserved that. If Satoru had that experience first-hand, he should not subject his own son to that same feeling.
You would be selfish to say this, but you wanted to seize the opportunity while Sachiro was still his only son. Hiding him from his father was your fault—you had gone through that a million times and you weren’t shy at holding yourself accountable through that mistake. However, you were already doing your best to make amends and make up for the years Sachiro had missed around his father. He was Satoru’s first and only child, and therefore he should never fight for his father’s affection. You weren’t sure what Satoru’s long term plans with Akemi were, but if they were considering having their own children someday, you would never allow your son to be pushed back at the bottom of the family tree.
Sachiro was the true first-born son of Satoru. He should never have to fight for his position in his father's eyes.
And so on the night of your flight back to Japan, when Satoru asked if he could take Sachiro with him for the rest of the week, you had no problems in saying yes. Your only wish right now was for them to spend as much time together as possible.
“Where are you taking him?” you did ask in spite of your leniency to send your son away, waiting inside the car as the pilot and crew prepared the private jet. “Please send me the full address. I need to know where he’s gonna stay and—”
“You’ll get the details from Miwa,” he casually said, rubbing Sachiro’s back as the little boy slept on his chest. He didn’t bother meeting your eyes as he talked. “I’m just taking him to my vacation home in Osaka.”
Osaka…
That was where his mother isolated him from the rest of the world when he was having terrible episodes. Episodes that worsened after he had found out that you ‘terminated’ his child and abandoned him for good. Shoko once said that they felt like Gojou disappeared from their lives while he was there, because nobody else could reach out to him. They couldn’t visit him nor could they contact him for a year or so until he was mentally ready to come back to Tokyo. 
You didn’t want to pry on matters that were sensitive to him, so you chose not to say anything concerning his decision to take Sachiro to Osaka. He must have wanted to reflect on his past experiences, allowing him to heal from them as it brought him to the incommutable life he had now—life knowing that Sachiro actually existed after everything that he was made to believe. 
“Please take good care of him, okay?” It was only a reminder, nothing else.
Satoru kept a straight face, nodding before he planted a kiss on his son’s forehead. “I got it from here.” 
After a minute of silence, you both got out of the car and you watched him carry the peaceful Sachiro in his arms. You left the sleeping toddler a tender kiss on the cheek before parting ways. “I love you, my baby.” Stroking his hair, you kissed his tiny nose. “Mommy will see you soon.” 
Satoru knew that you were staying behind. You had informed him of your plans before you even came here to the airport with him, explaining that Toji would be in Miami and that you had made arrangements to meet with your fiancé there. Satoru didn’t say anything much about it either, simply nodding his head at your decision and telling you to ‘do whatever’ because he was no longer a husband you should report your plans to. There was no hint of jealousy in his stance, but you couldn't miss the flicker of bitterness that did appear on his eyes for a millisecond. 
You didn’t even say goodbye to each other as you watched them board the plane. And he didn’t even bother looking back at you to tell you to take care of yourself. Not that you expected anything from him, but a quick goodbye would have been nice since you did spend the last couple of days together. Or perhaps, he was upset about the fact that you were staying behind to meet Toji? 
Either way, you were on your own now. 
It took some time for you to reach Toji in Miami. He had insisted on meeting you at the airport, but because he had to meet with a foreign investor, you headed straight to the hotel he was staying at. Funny enough, you couldn’t help but compare how different it was to stay in the same accommodation as your fiancé vs with your ex-husband and son. With Toji, nothing felt uncomfortable and sharing a room as a couple was as normal as it should be, but things did feel too formal and too forced. With Satoru, it felt awkward to share the same space with him, but since your son was there, it felt like home. It felt strangely close to home, like it was only right. That staying together as a family was what your heart wanted. 
Ever since Satoru went back to Japan with Sachiro, you had been feeling a wave of separation anxiety. Your mind was always left wandering towards them; how they were doing, where they were, what they had for dinner. You wondered if Sachiro was giving his father a headache. Smiling at the thought, perhaps he was giving Satoru a hard time changing his diapers. 
“Everything okay?” Toji, noticing your trance, put an arm around you as you two sat at the VIP lounge of the Miami Grand Prix. This was Toji’s scene. If Satoru was a fan of horseback riding and polo, Toji preferred big time F1 races. He even personally knew the racers, the type of cars they were driving, and everything a huge fan had to know. You weren’t all that familiar with these things, so it was a little hard to keep up with his lifestyle. 
“Y-Yeah, sorry,” you stammered, realizing how distracted you had been all this time. “What were you saying?” 
He drank from his glass of 30 year-old Macallan, downing the liquor like it was mere water. A cloud of disappointment settled over his features. “Not interesting to you, huh?” 
“No, I…” You made an effort to place a hand on his nape, giving him an apologetic peck on the lips. “I’m really sorry for zoning out. I was just… I guess I was just a little tired from New York.”
Toji placed a hand on your knee, sighing. “It’s fine. I was just trying to introduce the guys to you,” he said, scooting closer as he pointed to the racers. “You know that guy? Lewis Hamilton. He’s quite popular with the ladies,” then he moved his finger towards the other drivers, “And we got here for Ferrari, Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc, also fan favorites.” 
Your eyes suddenly caught sight of Gojou’s favorite car brand. “Um, how about McLaren? Who drives for them?” 
Unsure if Toji caught on or not, he did take a minute before feeding into your curiosity. “Norris and Piastri.” 
You wished you had any idea about F1 so that you could be as enthusiastic as Toji was at this event. He was at his happiest right now and you didn’t want to ruin it by being a boring, uncultured fiancé, because frankly, all these women around would have done a better job at entertaining him. Toji was very eye-candy and you couldn’t blame these models from glancing up at him, especially with how manly and suave he was, dressed like a picture perfect example of an old money businessman. The likes of him were the prey of these desperate influencers, willing to sell their bodies in exchange for a night with him. But truth be told, that was their way of living and you could never find it in yourself to insult them. You didn’t want to shame them for attempting to climb the social ladder because that was how they view money and success, or at least a faster ticket to it. 
As long as they didn’t try to make moves on your fiancé while you were around, you wouldn’t be so bothered by a few stares here and there. 
Neither was Toji. He must have experienced being stared at during these events plenty of times before, and he probably even sent women home crying because of rejection or worse, humiliation. Now that you think of it, how did Megumi feel when his father was being hit on while watching the Grand Prix? Most importantly, why was the teenage son absent at this current event? 
“Love, why didn’t you bring Megumi with you?” you inquired out of a sudden curiosity, knowing that Megumi was always present next to his father during F1 events. 
Toji took a sip of the hard liquor once more. “He didn’t wanna go. He was giving me the silent treatment before I left for the US.” 
Confusion further blanketed your eyes. “Did something happen back home?” 
He let out a deep breath, his face signaling that he was deep in dilemma. “The Zen’in elders want to set him up for an arranged marriage,” he revealed, much to your surprise, “They wanna make sure he’s not gonna end up like me, married to someone who wasn’t ‘qualified’ to be my wife.” 
At first you were confused if he was referring to you, but you realized that he was describing his late wife. Megumi’s own mother, the only woman Toji had ever loved by a mile. He fought everyone for her, even turned his back on his own family for her, but claimed that he also ultimately led her to her demise because the elders of his family harassed her until the day she died. It was a tragic love, perhaps even more tragic than yours, so you somehow understood why Toji was conflicted about Megumi’s personal life.
But you? You were strongly against it. “I don’t support arranged marriages, you know that,” you told him with conviction, sympathizing for the poor boy, “It’s not gonna end well. You know what happened to me…”
“I know.” Toji’s eyes were filled with regret. “I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it unless Megumi himself tells me he has someone he loves.” 
“Did you ask?” 
“He’s tight-lipped about it.” 
You sighed. “Well, he’s a teenager. They get pretty shy about these things.”
Forcing a marriage was never a good thing. You couldn’t understand why the concept even existed because it didn’t benefit anyone aside from the people around the married couple. That was why they called it a marriage of convenience. They were married for everyone’s sake but themselves; family name, status, business… You have had enough of it. If only you realized it from the very beginning, you never would have subjected yourself to a loveless marriage with Satoru. Even if your love did grow eventually, things still didn’t work out for the best, and now your life was a mess. A divorced couple co-parenting their only son? There was obviously no convenience gained in that false marriage.
Megumi would just be wasting years of his life tied to a person he didn’t love and so you were hoping that Toji would fight for his son’s right. Because if he truly understood you, he would not subject his son to the same suffering you went through. 
“I wish my wife was here,” mumbled Toji, forlornly, “She’d know how to handle these things better than I do.” 
Were you not there for him? You swallowed your pride, hiding the pain in your voice. “Right…” A smile was all that you could offer. “I’m sure she would.” 
——
Something was different about Toji and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 
It wasn’t his appearance, and neither was it the way he spoke to you. He was all the same except for one thing; the look in his eyes. 
He had told you this before. He said that the eyes carry the most truthful and raw emotion that you can see on someone. The presence of love would be visible in someone’s eyes just as you would see stars on a clear, night sky. The lack, however, would mean that the eyes are blank and empty like the dark void in the expanse of the universe. You didn’t have to be poetic to be able to discern the way his eyes communicated his most solemn feelings in spite of trying to show otherwise. 
He must have been tired. Being caught up in your back-and-forths with your ex-husband, having to put up with your pretentious co-parenting situation, and the never ending need to keep an open mind about your situation with the same man who had ruined you. When your heart was in pieces, wasn’t he the one who tried to fix it? Wasn’t he the one who remained by your side during your darkest times? 
Whether that may be true, whether he truly ever loved you, you could recognize the stark difference of the Toji that genuinely cared for you to the Toji that was only actively trying to be there for you. What had changed him all of a sudden? 
“Toji, you drank a little too much.” A weary sigh escaped your lips, pulling all your might to drag your fiancé to lie comfortably in your shared bed later that night. At least, on the way to the hotel room, you had his bodyguards to thank for. They were there to haul him while he was in his drunken stupor, letting you lead the way, and dumping him carefully to his bed because there was no way you would be able to carry such a muscular man all by yourself. Now that you were alone with him, you decided to care for him the same way you used to do when Gojou was coming home drunk at night. Starting with his shoes that you took off, his shirt that you unbuttoned, his pants that you unzipped. “Come on, love. I’ll get you changed.”
The verdant hues of his eyes weren’t present. They were hiding behind his lids, refusing to meet your gaze. But if anything, he did open his mouth to speak, “...You. You wanna know a secret?” 
Drunken words are sober thoughts, you reminded yourself. Of the numerous times Satoru had gotten drunk during the early stages of your marriage, it was how you found out that deep inside him, he did care for you. That in spite of his ill-tempered exterior, he was a man deprived of parental love and support. What would be the case for Toji, then? 
“Yeah?” You waited for his answer, slipping his shirt off and revealing his toned body. 
The scar on his mouth moved when he displayed a mirthless smile. He was as drunk as an alcoholic would be. “I don’t… think… I can love you the same way I loved my first wife.” 
Your heart paused. In fact, every heartbeat became heavy. You knew how he felt, but didn’t expect him to say that out loud. “I-Is that so…?”
“Absolutely,” he mumbled, chuckling inaudibly. He was at a point where he was too far gone to realize the magnitude of the words he was saying to you. “Even if you try your best, she was everything I wanted in life and the only woman I could ever offer my heart to. She’s irreplaceable, and I don’t feel guilty about it... because I know you’re still into Satoru, too.”
“That’s…” You held your breath, holding back the sudden tears that formed in your eyes. “That’s not true.” 
Toji wasn’t done yet, however. He still went on with his drunken speech like he was finally pouring out raw, yet hurtful words out of the bottle. “Who knows? You would’ve had him touch you back in New York if you didn’t have me. You would’ve had him impregnate you, have his second child with you, and guess what? He still won’t be loyal to you.”
The pain in your heart increased tenfold. Everything went still and every minute felt like a stab to your soul. Should you say something? Should you get angry at him? No, no you couldn’t. Your chest was tightening and you knew it was smart not to let such negative emotions overpower you. His words were just a little difficult to grasp because Toji never in his life had been callous with his words to you. The tears that fell from your eyes were from the betrayal that you felt after hearing the cruel words he had uttered. And yet, you tried to hold on to that thin string of hope that Toji’s words didn’t come from a place of truth. 
“That’s enough, Toji. Go to sleep.” You pulled away, swallowing the bitter taste of weakness in your voice. 
He hummed, unaware of the pain he had put you through. “The more I look at you, the more I realize how much I actually don’t want to spend my whole life with you,” he admitted, with little to no regard for your current feelings, “I can’t fill this emptiness by being with another empty soul. And if there’s one thing I’m most grateful for, it’s that I let you run away that day before I fulfilled my vows with you—”
“Enough!” You shot up from bed and wiped the flood of tears on your eyes. “Enough! I’ve heard everything you wanted me to hear, okay?! Enough!” you raised your voice in despair, almost begging for him to stop tearing your heart asunder. “I get it! I fucking get it… so enough. Please, Toji.” 
Drunken words are sober thoughts.
A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.
Alcohol is a truth serum. 
The revelation of Toji’s true feelings that night was a reminder to you that he was just like any other man. That you should have never put him in such a high regard, thinking that he would be the prince charming that would save the poor damsel in distress. Why? What would he benefit from someone like you? You only deluded yourself into thinking that a man like him would take a single mother so seriously. You were only meant to be a placeholder for his dead wife after all. 
A placeholder, certainly. Not even deserving to have the title of a wife.
——
There was a huge contrast between being with you and Sachiro in New York vs being with Akemi and Sachiro in Osaka. The difference? There was no awkward air between Akemi and him. They were free to do things as they will—no restrictions, no certain do’s and don’ts. They were happy to have each other’s company, minus the guilt nor the unease of being by each other’s side. If anything, Satoru bitterly assumed that you were having the time of your life in Miami with Toji. You were so keen to see the man back there before parting ways with your ex-husband and son like you were simply discarding them to the side. 
If so be it, then fine. Satoru had all the right to have his son all to himself while you were gone. Besides, Akemi was just one call away and she was everything he could ever ask for. She cared for Sachiro as if she was his own mother and Satoru couldn’t be more grateful that he didn’t need to work on building a bond between her and his son. 
In fact, Akemi very much knew how to win Sachiro’s heart. As they took his adorable son to Universal Studios that day, she was nothing short of a caring mother. She had acted as a guardian to his son throughout the rides, letting the toddler enjoy his time at all the wonderful attractions that the theme park had to offer. Not once did his son cry too, so that only meant that they were doing a great job at taking care of him. 
Of course, it was a different story in the afternoon. After having spent all of his energy during the day, Sachiro had become tired and hungry by dinner time. But he wasn’t such a difficult kid to tend to, so Satoru was proud that his son still wasn’t throwing a tantrum even after a whole day of not having you around. 
“We’re gonna get Sachi fried chicken,” he enticed the pouting toddler, kissing his forehead while Akemi carried him in her arms. “Is that what you want?” 
Sachiro nodded and wrapped his little arms around his auntie’s neck. “Chicken, dada.”
Akemi smiled at the child’s gesture, tempting her to also place a kiss on his cheek. “You’re so cute and well-behaved, Sachi.” 
“—Satoru?” 
At the familiar voice, all three of them turned to the woman standing behind like a deer caught in the headlines. She was tall for a woman, slender, and had long, auburn hair, rosy cheeks, and ivory skin. Next to her was a tattooed man with salmon pink hair, a piercing on his ear, and a very defensive stance. Ah… How timely. 
Sera and Sukuna. 
Satoru wasn’t sure if he should openly greet them, after all, they weren’t acquaintances. And it was only recent that he got his memories back, triggered by Sera's presence at the expo. Other than that, he had no business with the two of them. Sukuna wasn’t a business partner of his, so him and Satoru had no formal connection towards each other. As for Sera, she might be his ex-girlfriend, but they didn’t exactly have the healthiest relationship to begin with, so…
“Of all the places,” she mumbled, almost gaping at the sight of him. Her eyes then trailed off to Akemi and Sachiro, with which her expressions shifted to guilt. Did she recognize his son? Did she remember the horrible attempt she did to harm his child during his ex-wife’s pregnancy? The memory was flooding Satoru’s brain like a tsunami. Yeah, in that case, Sera should definitely be filled with guilt. She tried to kill this harmless child. 
He cleared his throat, now becoming protective over his son at the presence of his ex. “We gotta go—”
“I guess it’s true,” Sera spoke again, this time redirecting her attention to Akemi. “The rumors, I mean. It’s all just surprising to me considering how obsessive Satoru was to Y/N.” She paused, seemingly wanting to comment at her ex-boyfriend’s current relationship in a mocking way. She kept her eyes on Akemi only, while Satoru was left wondering why Sera was acting hostile towards her. What was her deal now? She wasn't in the position to be acting all entitled to Gojou anymore, but here she was, talking to Akemi like she had met her before. “Did you know? He sacrificed everything for her. No one else made him beg on his knees the same way Y/N did.”
He couldn’t even tell how Akemi felt while Sera was clearly taunting her with her words, but she still managed to smile and excuse herself, keeping Sachiro away from an environment that should only be between adults. It was ridiculous, surely. What was Sera thinking trying to subject his son around that kind of hostility? Balling his fists, Satoru turned to Sukuna and spoke to him man-to-man. “You’d better keep your woman entertained so she’ll stop meddling into other people’s business.” 
Sukuna, however, found the situation equally humorous. “Don’t worry. We both are entertained.” 
Making a spectacle of Satoru’s personal life? No wonder they ended up together. They were both pieces of shit. 
Before Satoru turned on his heels to follow Akemi, Sera still had one last thing to say to him. This time, she was more calm and less malicious—her eyes following Akemi’s trail before looking back at him, “Satoru, if you have truly grown as a man, you won’t do this to Y/N.”
——
Sachiro was fast asleep when they returned to the Gojou clan's vacation home. 
Meanwhile, since the night was young for the two adults in that house, Akemi and Satoru shared a passionate session in the living room downstairs, letting her ride him as he placed soft kisses on her collarbone. They tried to keep quiet, obviously, and all the lights were turned off, leaving only the moonlight illuminating their view. After a few more minutes into their lovemaking, they eventually met their climax and tried to catch each other’s breath, embracing her in his arms as she fell limp against him. 
“Satoru, I missed you a lot while you were gone.” 
“...Same.” 
Silence engulfed them for some time until she let out an exasperated sigh. It was clear in her facial expressions alone that she was pondering about the whole scene with Sera earlier. “That girl earlier, Sera, she—”
“Don’t mind her.” Gojou closed his eyes and leaned his head against the backrest. He knew he had to clear things up straightforwardly, leaving no room for any misunderstandings. “She just loves riling people up. It’s ironic she’s coming at Y/N’s defense now like she didn’t torment her back then. She’s not worth paying attention to.” 
“Okay.” Akemi pulled away, cupping his face and stroking his cheek. She also offered him an angelic smile while doing so. “But you don’t feel that way anymore, right? For Y/N?”
Satoru took a deep breath, but steadied the movements of his chest. He felt defensive all of a sudden. “No.” 
Her smile grew more relaxed as she pressed a light peck on his lips. “Right.” And for a while, they both stayed silent. His thoughts ran straight to you, while hers was quite on a different route. “Earlier when I put Sachiro to bed, he called me his mama.” 
His eyes widened. “Oh… he did?”
She answered with a nod. “I don’t know if he’s just half asleep calling for his real mommy, but… At that moment, it made me realize how much I want to have my own,” she hinted at him, wistfully staring at his blue eyes with her shining ones, “with you.”
——
You didn’t take the flight back to Tokyo. 
What you took was an immediate flight straight to Osaka where you knew your son and your ex-husband would be. You weren’t sure if it was due to the height of your emotions, but you surely let your impulse win the best of you this time. 
You just wanted to escape. It was for the first time in your life where you were dying to set yourself free from Toji’s presence, the very same person who you once likened to a buoy in an open sea. Now he was no longer that. He was far from that. He was an anchor pulling you down at the deepest part of the ocean. Needless to say, the pain was still fresh from your heart when you took the earliest flight back home after his drunken confession to you. 
Despite the many missed calls and texts and emails he had sent you, none of them were returned. None of them were seen, or read, or had been replied to. 
All you wanted to do was get to your son. Your son. Your only comfort from all the painful things that the world has thrown at you. If not for Sachiro, you would have long ended yourself. But because he was born in this world, because he relied on his mother for love and guidance, you had to be strong and you had to seek the comfort in your heart from him. 
They could all turn their backs on you, but never will your son do. 
And so, after a few back-and-forth emails with Miwa to confirm the address of Satoru’s residence in Osaka, you ignored the jetlag that was hitting your body and traveled straight to his place without a wink of decent sleep. Sachiro. Sachiro was all you ever thought of when you asked your driver to drop you off the park nearby the Gojou clan's residence as soon as you spotted your son's mop of white hair, him running across the small bridge and pointing towards a fish in the pond. Your son was happily calling all the fishes, gushing about them to Satoru who stood next to him. 
You didn’t even care at how you looked during that moment. You just wanted to get to your son and embrace him in your arms. He had been away from you for way too long and you had already grown pale and sick from the separation anxiety that engulfed your heart and mind. 
You had to have your son. You had to hold him.
“Sachi!” you called out, a smile present on your face as you made your desperate way towards the bridge. Your son looked at you the moment he had heard your voice, and was already skipping towards you with a bright smile on his face. “My baby!” 
Satoru’s face, on the other hand, turned pallid. His eyes were full of surprise, unable to believe that you were actually right in front of him. It was like he had seen a ghost. No, worse than a ghost. Why? Did he not expect you to come when he had let Miwa send the address to you? Were you not welcome to visit your own son? 
“Mamaaa!” Sachiro hugged you tightly, allowing you to attack his cute face with kisses all over.  
“Mommy missed you so much, my baby.” You could almost cry. As young as he was, he had no idea how much comfort he was bringing into your heart. Just to be able to see him, hold him, kiss him was enough for you to feel complete again. It was at your brokenness did you realize how much Sachiro could fix you whole.
“Y/N, I thought you…” Satoru paused, confusion seemed to be settling on his features as you looked up at him. “You’re supposed to be back by Monday.” 
For a moment, you were reminded of the reason you came home earlier than intended and it stung your heart to think about. “Change of plans.” 
A small scoff left his lips. “Don’t tell me you left Toji back there.”
I did, you wanted to say. Satoru had no single idea how true his words were, but that was none of his business and you had no plans of confiding in him about what had happened. You may be angry with Toji now, but you still respected him enough not to do terrible things behind his back. 
“I had to see my son,” you lied, although it wasn’t exactly one, and got up while holding your toddler’s hand. “Are you ready to go home with mommy, Sachi?” 
Reluctance clouded your son’s face, and he became more resolute at shaking his head the moment a woman’s voice called for him from afar. A woman, a very, painfully familiar woman came into view a few meters away from you. Standing there was your best friend, Akemi Hirai, looking at you with wide, mortified eyes as soon as she saw your presence. 
And in a snap, Sachiro ran to her. Your son ran straight to her, joyfully and excitedly as if she was his real mother. 
How many more heartbreaks do you have to go through? 
How many more tears do you have to hold back? 
“I…” Your hands were shaking. Your entire body was on the verge of breaking down. All this time, your son had been in this vacation home living like a happy little family with your ex-husband and best friend. 
Now, he even refused to go home with you. 
Gojou scanned through the look on your eyes as though he was reading your emotions, but you showed none of it. Not a single emotion could be seen on your face. Not an ounce of pain shown, despite seeing how your son immediately forgot about you and headed straight to another woman. How excited he was to spend more time with his dad and his new girlfriend. How, much to your discomfort, he refused to go back to Tokyo with you. You saw the future family Sachiro was about to have without you in the picture, and damn did it hit you like a truck. 
Why, why did everyone in your life choose others before you? 
“I’m sorry. I’ll bring him to your house Monday morning,” said your ex-husband in a soft, delicate voice, almost as if he was being careful with you. “We’ll take care of him.” 
You could simply nod, avoiding eye-contact with anyone in the vicinity except for Satoru. “Okay...” you struggled with words. Your entire body was shaking. The last thing you wanted was to sound like a selfish mother, but frankly, you were about to self-destruct. “Just keep him happy… that's all I ask.” 
Behind your mask of indifference, Satoru knew what right words had to be said. You needed reassurance, and that was exactly what he gave you. “I won’t ever take him away from you, Y/N. I promise.” 
You watched them walk away, leaving you alone with a look of sympathy that you didn’t need. Sympathy that you despised having received. This should serve as a wake up call to you that no one in this world would ever love you. That even your own child would, one day, abandon you. 
As tears fell from your eyes, you felt a certain pang on your chest that hurt worse than every other pain combined. “You know you’re not so good with promises, Satoru.” 
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writing-with-sophia · 10 months
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Common misfortunes for characters
Death of a loved one: This can be a profound and devastating experience for a character, leading to grief, guilt, and a sense of loss. It can also serve as a catalyst for character development and exploration of themes such as mortality, coping with loss, and the fragility of life.
Serious illness or injury: Physical or mental health challenges can test a character's resilience and force them to confront their limitations. It can also provide opportunities for exploring themes of perseverance, the importance of support systems, and the fragility of the human body.
Loss of a job or financial ruin: Financial struggles can lead to desperation, uncertainty, and a loss of identity for a character. It can also present opportunities for growth, reinvention, and exploring themes of resilience, resourcefulness, and the true value of material possessions.
Betrayal by a trusted friend or ally: Betrayal can shatter trust and lead to feelings of anger, betrayal, and a loss of faith in others. It can create complex moral dilemmas for the character and explore themes of loyalty, forgiveness, and the dark side of human nature.
Imprisonment or wrongful accusation: Being imprisoned or falsely accused can lead to feelings of powerlessness, injustice, and a struggle for redemption. It provides opportunities for exploring themes of justice, personal agency, and the lengths one will go to prove their innocence.
Natural disasters: Natural disasters can be catastrophic events that disrupt lives, challenge survival instincts, and test a character's resilience. They can explore themes of human vulnerability, the power of nature, and the strength of community in times of crisis.
War or conflict: War and conflict can have profound impacts on characters, leading to physical and emotional trauma, loss of loved ones, and moral dilemmas. They provide opportunities for exploring themes of heroism, sacrifice, the futility of violence, and the long-lasting effects of war.
Addiction or substance abuse: Characters grappling with addiction or substance abuse can experience a downward spiral, strained relationships, and a loss of control. It allows for exploration of themes such as self-destructive behavior, the road to recovery, and the impact of addiction on oneself and others.
Mental health issues: Characters dealing with mental health issues like depression or anxiety can face internal struggles, isolation, and difficulties in functioning. It provides an opportunity to delve into themes of stigma, self-discovery, and the importance of mental health support.
Loss of a child or miscarriage: The loss of a child or experiencing a miscarriage can be emotionally devastating for characters, leading to grief, guilt, and questioning of one's purpose or identity. It allows for exploration of themes of parental love, coping with loss, and the complexities of grief.
Failed relationships or divorce: Characters going through failed relationships or divorce can experience heartbreak, loneliness, and a sense of failure. It presents an opportunity to explore themes of love, forgiveness, personal growth, and the complexities of human relationships.
Alienation or social isolation: Characters who feel alienated or socially isolated can grapple with feelings of loneliness, rejection, and a sense of not belonging. It allows for exploration of themes of identity, acceptance, and the importance of human connection.
Identity theft or fraud: Characters who fall victim to identity theft or fraud can face financial ruin, loss of reputation, and a struggle to reclaim their identity. It provides opportunities to delve into themes of trust, deception, and the lengths one goes to protect their identity.
Accidental injury or disability: Characters experiencing accidental injury or acquiring a disability can face physical and emotional challenges, adjusting to a new way of life, and overcoming societal barriers. It allows for exploration of themes such as resilience, self-acceptance, and the meaning of true strength.
Loss of a treasured possession or heirloom: Losing a treasured possession or heirloom can evoke feelings of loss, nostalgia, and a connection to the past. It provides an opportunity to explore themes of materialism, attachment, and the value of intangible memories.
Being stranded or lost in a remote or dangerous location: Characters finding themselves stranded or lost in a remote or dangerous location can face survival challenges, fear, and the need to rely on their instincts. It allows for exploration of themes of resilience, self-discovery, and the inherent strength of the human spirit.
Struggling with poverty or homelessness: Characters experiencing poverty or homelessness can encounter hardships, discrimination, and a constant struggle for basic needs. It provides an opportunity to explore themes of social inequality, resilience, and the power of compassion and empathy.
Encounter with a dangerous or malicious antagonist: Characters facing a dangerous or malicious antagonist can be subjected to physical and psychological harm, manipulation, and a fight for their lives. It allows for exploration of themes of good versus evil, moral choices, and the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity.
Political or social persecution: Characters experiencing political or social persecution can face oppression, injustice, and the fight for their rights and freedom. It provides an opportunity to explore themes of social change, courage, and the power of collective action.
Being framed for a crime they didn't commit: Characters who are framed for a crime they didn't commit can face wrongful accusation, a loss of trust, and the pursuit of justice. It allows for exploration of themes of innocence, perseverance, and the search for truth.
These misfortunes can be used individually or combined to create layered and complex narratives where characters face adversity, overcome challenges, and ultimately find strength and growth through their experiences. Remember to balance the misfortunes with moments of resilience, hope, and eventual triumph to create a compelling narrative.
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nishikiace · 9 months
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fingerfucking gojo in ijichi's backseat and forcing ijichi to watch 😌
ftm! sub! gojo satoru, voyeur ijichi kiyotaka
Warnings: dubcon tw, gn!reader, dom!reader, ftm!character - afab anatomy, fingering, squirting, dubcon - voyeurism (ijichi does not initially consent to seeing sexual acts)
[masterlist]
satoru gojo is obnoxious, unashamed. he's spoilt beyond belief and rarely faces social consequences for his behaviour - he's the strongest, after all.
which is why he thinks it's acceptable to slide directly into your lap after a long day of missions, right when you sit down in the backseat of ijichis car.
"oh? didn't realise you were sitting here too!" he flirts down at you, laying his back flush to your chest. you give a deep sign, deciding its not worth the battle and wrapping an arm around his waist in lieu of a seatbelt. you nod at ijichi in the rear view mirror to start the drive home.
satoru pouts at being ignored by everyone, fists curling up under his chin as he begins to plot.
its only the car jolts from a bump in the road that he starts to work. using the jolt to his advantage, satoru repositions himself over your groin, feeling the imaginary heat between your legs pressing up into his. he grinds down. you stiffen and slowly turn to look at him.
"don't you fucking dare." your arm pulls him closer to you, trying to stop his movement. the man smirks and grinds down again, gyrating his hips in barely visible, shallow circles over your lap. your fingers dig in to his side in warning. "satoru, ijichi is right there."
he turns his head to whisper in your ear.
"I know."
before returning to pushing his ass into your crotch. he pauses to angle his hips down - to feel the pressure better on his pussy, before continuing to grind in deep and shallow thrusts on you. your mouth tightens at the ministrations, eyes closing in an attempt to have self control as you hear his soft sighs of pleasure barely audible near your ears. hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you start counting down the minutes before you get back home but this has the opposite effect for you. your breath is warm and mouth too close to satoru's sensitive skin and he finds himself getting too wet too fast, gasps sputtering slightly in realisation. he grinds more desperately.
your willpower for self control snaps as soon as you feel him seeping through his own uniform and onto yours. you move the hand wrapped around him to hold tightly at his lower abdomen, flat against his womb, and bring the other to slowly dip into his waistband. your fingers reach down to cup his pussy over his underwear, inside his trousers, massaging the wet tissue and feeling his heartbeat through the fabric. a muffled whine reaches your ears as satoru's blindfold tilts in your direction, anticipation trembling on his lips.
his cunt is pulsing so you begin to slowly rub over his clit and down to his covered hole. slick is soaking the thin fabric and it's barely minimising the feel of your fingers. a blush is beginning to appear under his blindfold and his hips tilt further into your hand, discreetly moving with each slide and trying to angle you to slip into his underwear. however, he got himself into this situation so you mercilessly grab his whole cunt, middle fingers almost in his hole and palm on his pubic bone, and squeeze threateningly. satoru hiccups from the pain, jolting and losing control over his hips. he bucks into your hand, hips shaking as you begin to rapidly circle his clit with your fingertips.
"p-please.. inside." he manages to whisper between hiccuping gasps, head beginning to fall back onto your shoulder. by this point, his face is too red to hide and his crotch is visibly wet and bumpy from where your hand is rubbing. you open your mouth to reply, wet hand gripping to stop another too-strong bucking when your eyes flick up to catch a sweating ijichi staring at you in the mirror.
he jumps at the eye contact, near swerving and gulping nervously. you maintain your pupils on his, waiting for him to catch your gaze again. when he does, you bring your hand out of satoru's wet pants and slowly lick your fingers for show. satoru lifts his head to see why you stopped and stills when he catches ijichis eyes flicker down to his covered pussy.
"a-ahah, you didn't see any-nngh!" he stumbles through his excuse with a yelp as you rip open his trousers to expose his soaked wet panties to the driver. "what a-are you - stop!" satoru thrashes slightly to hide himself, but your hand on his lower tummy presses down hard and pushes his clothed cunt in the air for ijichi to see better. the man gulps.
"you wanted this satoru." humming, you bring your wet hand to his clit and pinch between two fingers, sliding the rest up and down his overheated slit. his thighs spasm with each pass, ass writhing and head thrown back against your shoulder. you don't break eye contact with ijcihi, who is struggling between focusing on the road or on the fat cunt trembling in his mirror view. his hands are clenching white on the steering wheel.
finding the panties too annoying and slimy to remain, you push them to the side, exposing satoru's bare, red-pink cunt to ijichi for the first time. he's glistening and shining in slick and matted white hairs, hole clenching on nothing. satoru whines pathetically into your ear, legs spreading wider at how stupidly hot this situation is.
satoru gojo is obnoxious and unashamed, but he's especially a menace to kiyotaka ijichi's mental health.
you bare down harder on his womb to present his pussy. then, you put your hand back to his cunt to dip your fingers in his slick and stretch out the webs and drips for ijichi to see. the smell of musk is filling the car and you can see as he realises that, shifting his lower half slightly.
amused, you press two fingers down to the knuckles into satoru's hole and ignore his ragged moan to rapidly tap them into his g-spot. his walls clench around you and milk your hand while you rub harder, rougher into that spongy area. he's wailing in your ear, you realise half-heartedly, still watching ijichi's hesitant glances at the naked pussy and pulsating hole. satoru whines harder, hips lifting off your lap and bucking in the drivers direction as you bring him closer to his orgasm, fingers pushing more and more inside him with loud squelching and drooling slick.
ijichi's flushed face is now almost fully focused on satoru's shaking, bucking body, car near stationary from how slow its moving. he is writhing in his seat slightly, wanting to adjust the bulge thats no doubt throbbing and painful against his tight slacks. his eyes flick to yours, swallowing and licking his lips.
you take your fingers out, ignoring satoru's sobbing complaint, and slap your palm down hard across his clit.
the body in your lap seizes and convulses, ripped and choked screams leaving satoru's gaping mouth, thighs spread in the air and tense as his pussy squirts violently. you bring your fingers to rub at his clit mercilessly as he cums to lengthen his orgasm and spray harder into the front seat. his hips are bucking and shaking like a live wire as satoru struggles to process the unholy pleasure that wracks his body.
raising your eyes from satorus soaked and matted lower half, you look at ijichi again. his mouth is wide open, red face sprayed in satoru's squirt, sweat collecting on his body and hips aimlessly pulsing in his seat. his whitened knuckles are shaking on the steering wheel.
he's panting.
satoru has collapsed and passed out, so it's just you and ijichi. you bring your hand to the abused cunt on your lap, stroking it through the aftershocks gently.
"well? drive us home, then."
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libraryofgage · 6 months
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Addams Family B-Side (1)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell (on the way!)
This is part of a series of unrelated works entitled "Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually" and I think that title is fairly self-explanatory. If there are any other couples you think would be good parents for our Stevie boy, let me know and I'll take them into consideration!
Anyway, the B-Side thing is because this is like taking my Addams Family Steddie au and just flipping the cassette tape hfjsdk
This time, it's Steve that's the Addams and Eddie that's normal!
Anyway, blame @whatthemeepever for this one specifically cuz it's gonna spiral into a wild ride actually, so let's all pray for Eddie in advance
If you'd like a tag for any future parts, let me know!
And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't
-------
The moment Steve is born, his father sticks a light bulb in his mouth. When it glows, he jumps with joy and throws Steve into the air. The moment Steve's mother realizes what's happening, she slaps his father upside the head, throws the light bulb at him, and threatens to blow him up again if he sticks anymore into Steve's mouth before he starts teething.
She follows through on the promise exactly two weeks later, and Steve's parents (one smug and the other notably singed but delighted) rebuild their house next door to his father's brother.
Steve's mother chooses his first and last name (Harrington, a reference to some long-lost family friend or other), and his father is reluctantly given the freedom to choose his middle name. In the end, he is dubbed Steve Faustus Harrington, a name his mother is so surprised to find acceptable that she kisses his father as a reward.
And so begins Steve's life.
------
"I can't believe you got expelled," Steve's mother seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white. "Again!"
Steve crosses his arms, sinking lower in his seat as he glares out the window. "It's not my fault they were shitty friends. They got what they deserved."
He hears his mother laugh, the sound strained and indignant and very quickly followed by his father turning to look at Steve from the passenger seat. His sunken eyes are filled with suppressed delight as he asks, "What did they do this time?"
A few seconds pass before Steve sighs. "They said they couldn't go out later because they had to study for finals. I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Finals are three weeks away, and they can't spare one weekend for the funeral museum?" he says, scoffing as he looks at his father, grins, and adds, "So, I brought the funeral museum to them, coffins and cremations and all."
His father's eyes light up, sheer joy and pride dancing in them. And for the very first time in Steve's life, his mother pulls over to the side of the road and parks the car.
"Pumpkin?" his father asks.
"Fester," she says, her voice low and somewhere in the range of upset, "do you remember when I tried to kill your entire family?"
"Of course. It was a splendid attempt."
She nods and looks at him with a tiny, somewhat pained smile. Then she turns and sets her gaze on Steve. "Darling, what kind of grades do your friends have?" she asks. "Because if you're anything like me, and I know you are, you tend to befriend people who are significantly dumber than you."
Steve blinks, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, most of them were about to fail," he admits.
"Then, isn't it possible they really were studying for finals? Especially if they were close to failing at a school where passing is a requirement of attendance? Perhaps you could have suggested going to the...funeral museum after finals?"
A few seconds pass as Steve considers her words, a crushing sense of realization and guilt dropping on his shoulders and traveling to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel nauseous, and he stares down at his lap. "I fucked up," he finally says, voice quiet and apologetic.
"Of course not!" Fester says, reaching out and ruffling Steve's hair despite the affronted noise from Debbie, "Your plan was beautifully conceived and masterfully executed. Perhaps you should just talk a little more before pulling out the urns next time."
"Incredibly, your father is right," Debbie says, looking pleasantly surprised before turning her gaze to Steve. She sighs and holds out a hand, squeezing Steve's when he takes it. "Don't get so blinded by a beautiful pair of shoes that you completely miss the sale two aisles over, Steve. At the very least, do a little more research before resorting to torture and murder. Personally, I'm very tired of calling the family's lawyer."
Steve snorts at the utter lie. Debbie loves calling the family's lawyer. She does so regularly just to double-check the state of Fester's stocks and bonds and deeds and general worth. "Okay," he says, nodding once, "I'll remember for the next school."
"You know," Fester says, looking at Debbie hopefully, "Pubert is a senior this year. Maybe Steve could go to high school with him."
Debbie hesitates, frowning slightly before saying, "Yes, but it's...public school."
"The best Gomez and Morticia could find! It was highly recommended by Margaret, and Pubert can make sure Steve adjusts and makes friends."
Steve can see the moment his mother agrees. She sighs, lets go of his hand, and fixes her already perfect bob. "Well, I suppose," she says before looking at Steve once more. "And you, Steve? Would you like to try...public school for your junior year?"
"Sure, might be fun," Steve says, thinking about all the movies he's seen that display public high schools as a zoo and the worst place on Earth. It sounds great, and if the place is still standing while Pubert attends, it must be somewhat entertaining.
------
"You've got everything you'll need?"
Steve looks up from lacing his shoes and smiles at his mother, earning a nervous grin in return. Her blonde hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and Steve feels warm and fuzzy (like a mold growing over his heart) at knowing she's so worried as to appear less-than-perfect in front of him.
"Yes, I've got everything," he says, gesturing to the backpack on the stairs next to him. In addition to notebooks and his pencil case, Steve has also packed a travel mace, a miniature bomb (alarm clock detonator stored separately, of course), a tiny bottle of tequila, and his lucky lightbulb (just in case).
His mother nods once, takes a deep breath, and then turns her head toward the kitchen to shout, "FESTER!"
Something crashes, a cat (they don't have a cat) yowls, and Steve's father slides into the doorway. "Yes, Pumpkin?" he asks, eyes bright and happy and utterly stuck on Debbie.
"Is Steve's lunch ready? You made something normal, right?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.
Fester glances at Steve, a brief look shared between them that's both sympathetic and endeared toward Debbie. "Of course," Fester says, disappearing for two seconds before striding over to the stairs with a pink lunch box decorated with black skulls (Steve chose the color, Fester chose the pattern, and Debbie gave them her stamp of approval). "A turkey sandwich, fruit, cookies, and juice."
"Fruit?" Debbie asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Apple slices!"
After a few seconds, Debbie nods, and Fester gives the lunch box to Steve, shifting some so Debbie doesn't see the conspiratorial wink that tells him the juice is definitely poisoned. Steve grins and shoves the lunch box into his bag. He finishes lacing his shoes and stands, holding his arms out so his mother can inspect him.
"You've done a wonderful job pairing your shirt and shoes," Debbie says, walking around Steve with an air of pride and approval. She rubs the sleeve of his pastel yellow sweater between her thumb and forefinger, nodding once. "The plum pants are a bold choice, but it pays off. And, as always, your hair is flawless, dear."
Steve grins, letting his arms fall to his side. "I tried that new mousse you gave me," he says, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to run them through his hair. "It works great."
His mother smiles even wider and kisses his cheek, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the lipstick residue she leaves behind. "I knew it would," she says, inspecting Steve's face once more before nodding with approval.
"Pumpkin, it's time for Steve to go. Pubert is waiting."
Debbie huffs softly and gives Steve one last once over before nodding and hurrying him toward the door. "Have a good day at school, try not to blow anything up, and call me if Pubert tries to cut off your head with a rusty knife again," she says.
"What if it's a clean knife?"
"Well, that's fine. Grandmama will just sew it back on."
Steve grins and waves to both of his parents before hurrying toward the sidewalk where Pubert is waiting. His hair is parted down the middle and gelled down, his pencil-thin mustache is immaculate as ever, and he's wearing a three-piece suit. When Steve is closer, he pulls out two cigars and offers one.
"This isn't an exploding cigar again, right? I'm wearing a new shirt," Steve says, taking it and looking it over.
"Nah, that joke only works once," Pubert says, dragging a match against his palm to light it. He holds it to his cigar first, puffs a few times, and then does the same for Steve. "How long till you get expelled again, you think?"
Steve shrugs as he takes a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before skillfully blowing it out in perfect circles as they walk. "I haven't been to a public school before," he says, tapping the cigar over the sidewalk, "so, hopefully, at least a year."
"Public school is fun," Pubert says, getting a wicked grin as he looks at Steve. "You can get away with a lot."
"And the other kids?"
"Well, they've certainly got a lot to learn. I mean, most of them can't even handle a little cyanide."
Steve scrunches his nose and takes another puff of his cigar. After a few seconds he asks, "Will we have any classes together?"
"You're a year below me, so maybe an elective or two. What did you sign up for?"
"I signed up for, uh, shop class, forensic science, and Gothic literature."
"We'll have Gothic lit together," Pubert says, flashing a smile before asking, "And you know what shop class is, right?"
Steve blinks, suddenly a little hesitant. "Is it not, like, something about shopping?"
"No. It's building things. With wood, usually."
"Oh! So, I can build anything?"
"I guess. I haven't taken it."
"Well, I'll find out. Maybe I can build Dad a catapult or guillotine or something."
As they get closer to the school, more students fill the sidewalks, but Steve notices that most of them seem to give him and Pubert a wide berth. They also stare, looking at Steve like he's some kind of puzzle to be solved, with more than a few flashing sympathetic smiles like he's trapped and can't get away. "You're popular," Steve notes, taking one last puff of his cigar before dropping it into a trash can.
"I would fucking hope so," Pubert says, finishing off his cigar and tossing it into the next trash can they pass. "I didn't flood the place with roaches and vermin to not be known."
Steve grins, listening as Pubert regales him with the tale only to cut it short when they get inside the school and pass the front office. "I need to get my schedule, but Mom said she made sure we'd have lunch together," Steve says.
Pubert waves him off. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria. Have fun, cousin," he replies, mockingly saluting him before heading off down the main hall.
-----
Steve's first class of the day was AP Calculus, followed by AP Physics, Wood Shop, and AP U.S. History. When it's finally time for lunch, he surveys the cafeteria for a few seconds before finding a table in a dark corner that everyone seems to avoid. By the time he gets there, Pubert has sat down with a tray from the lunch line.
Steve sets his backpack on the table, sits down, and says, "For a place that's so lifeless, it's not even fun."
"Yeah, it's like that," Pubert agrees, poking some unidentifiable mush on his tray with a spork before spooning some into his mouth.
It's with a somewhat jealous expression that Steve pulls out his lunch box and removes a thermos of poisoned juice. "Is it bad?" he asks, nodding to the tray.
"Utterly repulsive."
Steve sighs and takes a sip from the thermos before pulling out everything else in his lunch box. "They made me wear safety goggles in shop. Safety goggles! It's like they don't know how fun splinters in the eyes are. And everyone is soooo scared of the saws, it's ridiculous," he complains, taking an angry bite of his sandwich.
"What about your other classes?"
"Physics would be better with more practical examples. I mean, who cares about apples when we could learn if a body falls faster than a cannonball?"
"From experience, no," Pubert says, "Anyway, you gonna join any clubs?"
"Maybe the swim team? If I'm lucky, I'll drown," Steve says, perking up a little at the thought.
"Best of luck with that," Pubert replies, stealing Steve's thermos to take a sip of his juice. When he places it back, he offers Steve a sporkful of the mush.
Steve lights up and happily tries it, wondering how something can be so perfectly undercooked and overcooked at the same time. "Impressive," he says, passing the spork back. "Is that freezer burn?"
Before Pubert can answer, a bang from the other side of the cafeteria cuts off all other sounds. Steve glances over to see a boy in heavy combat boots climbing onto his table with a mischievous grin. He's wearing a shirt with a devil head on it and "Hellfire Club" emblazoned above and a vest with spikes, pins, and patches. His hair is just below his shoulders and a little curly, and Steve can see from here the wild glint in his eyes as he stomps down the table while talking.
"I'm tired of the double standards of this lame school. If you're into science or band or some other 'uncool' interest, the administration couldn't give two shits! Oh, the choir room needs new risers so the current ones don't break any necks? Well, that's too bad, we've got to give the football team new monogrammed towels for the locker room!" the guy says, grinning when a group of kids to the side shouts their agreement. "And never mind that our Robotics team has won the school three trophies when the basketball team so valiantly scraped into third place last year for being kinda good at throwing balls into laundry baskets."
"Prick!"
Steve glances at the guy who shouted, taking in his letterman jacket before quickly dismissing him. He looks back in time to see the boy on the table sticking out his tongue and holding his hands to his temples to make horns. There's an even wilder look in his eyes now, a sheer glee at causing a scene and getting under someone's skin.
Steve doesn't realize he's smiling until the boy scoffs, shouts one more line about the school's unfair preference for "mediocre jocks," and hops off the table. He looks over at Pubert and asks, "Who was that?"
Pubert glances at Steve, studying him for a moment before swallowing another mouthful of mush and saying, "Eddie Munson. He does that once a week, usually."
"Eddie Munson," Steve murmurs, glancing over at Eddie's table again and smiling a little wider.
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ad15124 · 9 months
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I'm sorry but no Pixar movie will ever live up to the best one. a hot shot entirely arrogant and egotistical yet ultimately lonely young guy lands up in the middle of a small town before a big race, and having destroyed it's road by accident is now forced to rebuild it? slaps. he meets a beautiful woman who won't take any of his bullshit? wonderful. he realises the old grandpa is a washed up hero that people turned their back on after he came back from an injury, now residing amongst people who love and care for him and he thinks the guy will ruin the town he lives in? dear god I am in love. the young-un meets someone of a sort he once looked down on and they have fun together, and he finally finds a best friend? I will cry. the hotshot falls in love with the town, the town that has long since left the public eye, and the grandpa shows him how self-centred he's been his entire life? please I'm crumbling. the rockstar helps everyone in town, makes them all feel loved and heard and finally feels at home before the paparazzi find him and drag him to his competition, the door closing on his found family just as he's connected with them, all apparently because the grandpa gave them a call? I'm furious! him losing focus at the competition only to hear the grandpa in his headset and go “yeah yeah it's just - wait WHAT” and find that they all came to watch and the grandpa is his coach now all because the best friend didn't get to say goodbye? god I'm squealing with joy! the old dude in his last race ends up in an accident and this boy stops in his tracks, remembers how his coach was disgraced the same way and helps push him to the finish line? I am sobbing. “there's more to racing than just winning” same line as the start, but where earlier it was to impress the camera, this time it's from the bottom of the heart. banging my fists on the table “you got a lot of stuff kid” the grandpa says to the boy, pride, forgiveness and acceptance mingle as I begin to wail. the new racing headquarters will be built in the town, it's back on the map. I am hopping up and down out of sheer jubilation. oh and they're all cars btw. what more do you want?
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esperderek · 11 months
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It's a minor thing, but I rather like that this is Suletta's last line in the series.
Through all of G Witch, one of the biggest things that Suletta has struggled is her inability to state her needs and desires. It even turns out her whole list of school life was given to her by her Mom rather than something that she generated and desired herself.
It kind of calls back to episode 12, the lunch scene, where Suletta is unable to speak up and rectify a mistake that left her without any food, something she just took and accepted thanks to her low self-worth.
It wasn't until Miorine did she start actually wanting something properly, for herself, and it took her a long, hard road to get to the "I'm a greedy person." Suletta of the final episode. (Seriously Suletta you're like in the running for the kindest person in Gundam.)
So for her to say "I'm feeling hungry", while so simple, shows how far she's come from how she was at the start of the series, and a fine last line for her to leave the series on.
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iiseor · 3 months
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⋆𐙚 ₊ summer strikes . . . (1)
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synopsis: forced by joel to spend the summer in a small town consequent her agreement to get sober—ellie's acceptance towards the situation grows significantly the moment you cross paths.
cw: alcohol/drugs, mentalhealth issues, ellie is not Joel's daughter in this AU, she just stays with him for context! word count : 1.9k. Tags: @boobdrug @seraphicsentences @amberputh sorry this is short . . i didn't wanna wait any longer to upload it. Next part will be longer . . . master list
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" i don't understand why this was your first option?" ellie huffed as she planted her bags in the back of Joel's truck. "It's what's best for you" he replied, slamming the door as he got inside — ellie following. "Yea whatever" she scoffed.
For ellie days had been longer, the nights nearly decades, trailing behind her filled with nothing but misery. She had been locked inside for weeks, terrified of breaking her promise to joel.
the promise that she'd get sober. Straighten up and stop self sabotaging. Fix everything, stop acting out, become an adult and do good. She knew the consequences, she knew how he'd look at her if things got even worse. So she did her best, locked herself away from anything and everything that could possibly make her relapse.
But to joel, that was even worse.
His soloution? Taking her to an entirely different places to stay with his cousins family.
In a small, quiet town where she couldn't.
possibly be tempted to do bad.
Right?
.
The road trip was hours, tho felt like minutes for ellie who was asleep for nearly the entire ride, only waking up right before joel had pulled in the driveway. Which happened to be more than enough time for her to take in the beautiful scenery — and beaming sun.
"Miller!! Long time no see" the brown haired man yelled from the drive way as Joel pulled in.
ellie was stunned by the view ahead of her, a beautiful—yet typical country house surrounded by acres of trees, bushes and green grass, accompanied by a small barn, the lake only meters away.
both stepping out of the car, Joel greeted your father in an instant. The two brothers sharing a hug while Ellie breathed in the crisp air. For her, it felt like this was the first time she breathed freshly in years—soaked in sunlight opposed to narcotics, scents of salted ocean water and oak filling her senses.
"Someone's gotten taller" tommy motioned to ellie, her head still facing the clouds before she slowly came back to reality.
"Ready to check out the place kid?" He added, patting her on the back as Joel lifted the final bags out of the truck and put them on the pavement for Tommy to grab. "Sounds good.." Ellie sighed out in response, picking up whatever bags she could to carry inside. "Now holdon" Joel called out
"make sure you behave, and no going against old man's rules. He'll keep u in check while I'm gone, but just a reminder" he said pulling her into a hug. "Yeah yeah I got it" Ellie said pushing him away and following inside.
"See you later" they both called and waved as Joel hopped back in the truck.
and that was it for ellie.
the end of something, the start of another.
from the start, and all over again.
she had one last chance to get better.
.
Tommy sighed as he sat the last of Ellie's bags down on the living room floor, brushing his hands off and placing them on his hips—Ellie standing awkwardly like a confused puppy. "Welp, there's not much to the living room or kitchen... pretty generic... um, take a quick look around if you'd like and ill get these bags to your room" ellie was about to open hee mouth, protest that she could carry them up herself—but before she could, Tommy was already yelling up the stairs.
"Y/n can you come help me?" He called out. Y/n... Joel didn't mention there would be more company..
your foot steps marched quickly down the stairs, skipping a step on the way down.
Paint stained overalls flashed the girls eyes as you stood before her, paint brushes still in hand as you hoped off the final step.
"Oh hi Ellie" you spoke, so sweet and soft—flashing a smile.
she knows my name, how does she know my name ? ellies mind spun between the vision of you and the words you spoke.. already driving her crazy.
"H... hey" she choked out, almost jumping back as you stepped closer to her, holding your hand out for her to her grab onto.
you stared at her with a smile for a minute while she looked back at you like a deer caught in the headlights. For a moment, she was completely frozen—only for seconds before you picked up her hand and shook it for urself, smiling through the process and breaking her still shape, your touch sending sparks through her body.. "Nice to meet you" "I'll help you take these upstrairs!" You said, letting go of her hand picking up two of the bags and walking past her to go back upstairs, ellie still half in her day dream doing the same.
"Here it is!" You told, placing her bags inside and stepping out of the way so she could do the same. In front of her was four empty walls and bed framed mattress, "I took everything down, I figured you'd wanna decorate it your own way" you said with that soft smile again. "Yeah... thank you" she said forcing a smile back.
It's not like she wasn't thankful , of course she was. How couldn't she be when you were so fucking sweet to her already? she was so love struck she didn't know how to smile genuinely, or think of anything besides how good you looked—despite being caught of gaurd by her quick arrival. "Ill let you settle in" you spoke, breaking the awkward silence, "the closet is over there for your clothes and if you need any extra storage bins my dad can bring them up" you added. "if you need any help let me know!" knodding at her, you walked away.
.
Ellie's body ached as she looked around the vacent room, feelings sunk into her body and whithered throughout her veins 'I promised Joel' was all she could think of 'this is my last chance' she whispered to herself. Staying here with you and tommy wasnt the thing killing her inside, not in the slightest. it was the ringing notion in the back of her head that continuously told her to start again, to drink again, ruin everything and go back to her old ways, that made her want to tear everything apart.
for now, all she knew is that she had to build willpower. She couldn't let herself get worse. Not in front of tommy, not in front of you... not under the promises she made with Joel.
knock knock
"You good In here girl?" Tommy's voice broke hee out of a second trance and made her jump, turning to see the man just above her eyes. "Didn't mean to scare ya" he chuckled moving into the room, "its alright..." she breathed out. The room fell silent for a few moments, Tommy picking up a few of ellies things now scattered throughout the floor and putting them away for her. "This used to be Joel's room you know... before he was a grown ass man" he laughed, Ellie pushing a smile. "But I'm glad you have him and he has you, I can tell he wants what's best for you and I'm sure you'll find it while here" looking around the room he added, "Come down for dinner when your done, yeah?"
"Yeah" she agreed, tommy walking away while ellie turned her gaze towards the crystalline window, sun beaming onto her warm freckles.
One last chance she repeated.
.
Ellie only took an hour to finish her room, about the same amount of time it took tommy and you to finish cooking. She didn't bring much to decorate. some old band posters joel had gifted, her comic books, her journal and her guitar. The important things in her mind. She paced back and fourth throughout her room for almost ten minutes out of the hour she set up, staring at herself in her bathrooms body length mirror for another ten before building up the courage to face dinner.
"Done already?" Tommy questioned as Ellie made her way towards the kitchen, her eyes scanning and spotting you setting up the table. "Uh yeah" she replied standing awkwardly, Tommy's eyes faced her with confusion. "You can sit down you know, make urself at home"
"Right..." she replied again, sitting down at the table you had finished placing silverware on. "You like fish right? Joel didn't tell me any dietary preferences or anything so I tried to keep it simple for tonight" tommy smiled setting a plate of freshly cooked salmon, vegetables and rice down in front of ellie—and you who had joined her at the table.
To be honest, Ellie hadn't had a real cooked meal in months. Between the alcohol, and just overly terrible diet, salmon and rice sounded like a luxury to her. Let alone vegetables.
"This is good .... thank you" she told, not hesitating to taste everything in front of her.
Tommy sat down in between you two, the three way table being jsut enough space, you all silently eating till a thought popped into your head. "Oh! Ellie, have you seen the lake yet??" You questioned, Ellie giving you that dear caught glance again—Quickly clearing her throat before stuttering out. "Oh um .. kind of... I caught a glimpse of it" she replied, trying to contain the sudden shivers that went down hee body as you spoke to her. "Oh ! Well that's not good enough... its truly beautiful out there, especially when the weather is nice ! we should go fishing tomorrow, then you can see it for yourself" you rambled on, Tommy subtly knodding his head in agreement before swallowing his food and given a spoken one, "I agree, it'll be good for you girls to get to know eachother now" he spoke.
ellie—not against the idea ... more so embarrassed over her next words. "I um.... i don't know how to fish" she said lowering her head to her plate. "Joel never taught you?" You questioned. "No" was all she responded, slightly meeting your gaze, noticing tommy's semi shocked expression in the corner of her eye. You hummed for a minute, taking another bite of your food and a sip of your drink.
"It's okay then, you have me now! I'm probably better than him anyways" you laughed in response, Tommy laughing along as he stood up, gathering all of your now empty plates and dragging them to the sink.
Ellie stood up to follow him, but before she could touch a dish tommy stopped her "Don't worry about it kid, I got it, you go settle in" he patted her on the back setting her off—you already making your way up the stairs, though not fast enough to miss ellie before she got to her room. "Goodnight ellie !" You waved as you walked towards your door, ellie caught off gaurd by you once again and nearly stumbling into her room. "Night" she called back awkwardly, just awkwardly enough to make you frown in confusion by her lack of energy returned. Unknown to you, she was already slapping her hand on her face for how stupid her response sounded as she closed her door and sat on her bed.
As she layed away, thoughts poring into the moon lit night as crickets cherped outside her window, her wondering mind kept replaying the sound of your words in her head. "You have me now".
That sentence ... your words ...
she has you now .. even if you didn't mean it the way she thought, even if it was an empty statement. Somebody thought she had them ... she has people.
she has another chance to make it all right.
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formulafics · 3 months
Text
❀ NEW DESIRE | MV1
SCENARIO: you and max are childhood friends. despite claiming a platonic relationship - or rather, not claiming a romantic one, fans are certain that there’s more to what you both have, especially when max openly simps for you on streams, and most definitely when his private account gets leaked.
PAIRING: max verstappen x fem!reader
AN: i am so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! that being said, i hope you still enjoy it! thank you for your patience and your request 🫶🏻 also i did use google translate for the dutch part so if you speak dutch im so sorry LMFAO
as always, a shoutout to @renarots because these fics truly would not be as good without their input. <3
if you saw me change the title, no you didn’t
MASTERLIST
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YNLN on Instagram stories
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grandprixsandgossip on instagram
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14,567 likes
grandprixsandgossip for a long time, fans of max verstappen have questioned his relationship with childhood friend yn ln. recently, the formula one drivers’ private instagram account posts were leaked after a fan somehow was accepted to follow his private account, which features many pictures of him and yn, dating all the way back to 2014.
you can find the archive of his posts on our website by following the link in our bio. while we weren’t able to gather every comment and like, we were able to get a majority of the posts!
what are your thoughts?
view all 782 comments
formulaverstappen okay so this is pure he-said-she-said, but apparently on the holidays post, max’s sister commented “just friends? 😉” and max responded with the 😳 emoji I AM SICK
rizzciardo anyone who still thinks they’re just friends is LYING to their self
lnnation haunted by the fact that yn learned dutch for max and she helped him learn english
formulanorriz if he doesn’t ask her out at this rate, IM GOING TO
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GRANDPRIXSANDGOSSIP.COM
maxemillianv on instagram
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maxemillianv goede race, nog betere mensen ❤️ of moet ik zeggen persoon haha (great race, even better people or should i say person haha)
ynln zoveel liefde voor jou. ik ben zo trots op je ❤️🏆 (so much love for you. i’m so proud of you. )
maxemillianv on instagram
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maxemillianv out of office
maxemillianv on instagram
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maxemillianv happy holidays 🎄
victoriaverstappen just friends? 😉
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It’s funny, the way Max is. He’s blunt all the time, but this is different. A part of you is worried that maybe he’s upset, that perhaps something like this will be the reason you and him stray apart - you can’t imagine it. The thought of being anything but with Max matches your chest tighten, and even though you’d like to think that isn’t the case, you can’t be sure.
The wait for Max to arrive at your house is almost torturous. Your mind is racing, and by the time you hear his car pull up, you’re damn near shaking out of your skin. He doesn’t even have to knock or ring the doorbell - hell, he’s barely out of the car when you open your front door and step outside. You study his body language, trying to determine what exactly to expect. You just can’t clock it. With a sharp inhale, you lock your door and then make your way towards the car.
“Is everything okay?” you ask, uncertainty making your voice waver. “Yes,” Max responds simply. It’s a genuine yes, and in fact, he sounds almost happy. Your brows furrow in confusion as he opens the passenger side door for you, and you genuinely don’t think you could be more puzzled. You press your lips together as he returns to the drivers seat and starts the car again, not waiting to pull out of the driveway.
“Max, you’re scaring me,” you say. Scared isn’t the right word, but it’s something along those lines. His eyes stay on the road, yours are fixed on his face, still trying so desperately to read him. He glances at you, offers a small smile, then reaches over to grab your hand. He intertwined your fingers, assuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. It’s still odd - the whole situation, but that does make you feel more relaxed.
It’s quiet for longer than you’d like it to be. Aside from the radio, which is on a low volume, and the smooth rumble of the vehicle, it’s silent.
Finally, Max speaks. “I’m not worried about the posts,” he says, glancing at you for the second time. You find yourself wishing he could look at you for longer, a weird feeling washing over you as his eyes return to the road. He squeezes your hand subconsciously, his thumb soothing over the back of it. “Seriously?” you almost forgot to respond, but at the last minute, you remember his statement. “Seriously,” Max hums. The smile returns to his lips, and much to your relief, he expounds.
“Sure, it’s not ideal, but at the same time,” he pauses, and you can tell he’s trying to think of how to describe it. He chuckles briefly, “The only way to put it is that it’s made me realize that you’re so much more than a good friend.”
You’re still stumped. Now, you’re realizing that you don’t even know where Max is taking you - not that you’re worried about it, but the whole situation is just so strange, especially for you and Max. Thus, you remain silent, eyes never leaving him. You’re waiting for him to say something else, and he’s waiting for you to respond, assuming that you’d understand what he’s saying. Hes the first to realize that you don’t understand, and amused smile playing on his lips at your confusion. “Hold on, you’ll know what I mean when we get there,” He says, and this is somehow so Max, but not him at all, leaving you to sit silently, at least a million thoughts filling your mind.
Max pulls into a parking lot, and it only takes you a moment to realize you know where you are. You’ve been here with him once before, and you still remember that night so vividly. That was the first - and only - time you had ever questioned your feelings for Max. Any other time, you never had to think about how you felt. You knew you were happy with him, and it was the same for him. You didn’t need to know if you loved him, and he didn’t need to know if he loved you.
Now that the memories are coming back to your mind, it begins to dawn on you, what Max said. Regardless, you stay quiet and let him guide you into the club, hand still in his. He takes you to the very spot you both sat the first night you came here, and this time, rather than an empty booth and table, there’s a large bouquet of white roses sitting atop the table, a small note folded beside them. You aren’t sure what to say, or what to do. Your eyes flicker between the roses, the note, and Max, who carefully pulls you closer, his free hand now resting on the small of your back.
“I’ll give you the choice - you can read the card or I can relay it to you,” he says. You choose what first comes to mind. “Relay it to me.” Max nods, then turns you to face him, his hands on your waist. Instinctively, you place yours on his shoulders. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, and even though you’re certain that his words are the briefest summary of what’s in the card, you can’t be bothered. A smile takes over your expression and you nod. Max smiles too, pulling you into a tight hug.
The rest of the night, you continued on like you would have had he not asked you to be his girlfriend. There was no need for things to be different. In fact, the only thing that would change from here would be the pure admiration you both have always had for one another, and that was perfectly fine with you. Somewhere along the line, a certain friend showed up, and you did eventually read the card.
Safe to say, Max’s recap of the words written in the card were indeed brief. Your heart is happy knowing that only you would see such a soft, loving side of him, and only you would be able to clearly picture your best friend- boyfriend, all mushy as he writes the card.
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maxverstappen1 on instagram
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liked by ynln, landonorris, danielricciardo, pierregasly, and 324,512 others
maxverstappen1 my ❤️
view all 7,432 comments
landonorris okay i guess we don’t do photo creds anymore 😒
⤷ maxverstappen1 👍📸
ynln so much love for you always. ❤️
⤷ maxverstappen1 ❤️🔄
⤷ formulaverstappen IS THIS HIS WAY OF SAYING THAT BACK TO YN??? THERE ARE REAL TEARS IN MY EYES
victoriaverstappen very ‘just friends’ of you
⤷ maxverstappen1 👀
⤷ mv331lvr YALL EITHER GET THIS OR YOU DONT IM GOING INSANE
ln4nation THE FACT THAT LANDO TOOK THESE AND WAS THERE WITJ THEM IM GAGGED
papayabull YN AND MAX CONFIRMED DATING THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE
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TAGLIST
@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @vellicora @spidersophie @arkhammaid @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @leclercvsx @sleepeatread @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @i-love-ptv @motorsp0rt @fastcarsandshit @marshmummy @jellyfish123guts @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @sadieurlady @piasstrisblog @pretty-little-bunny382728 @lokietro @stopeatread
Thank you for reading! 🌷
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bettyfrommars · 5 months
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One More Night
older!Eddie x afab!Reader
Eddie survived the upside down and has been on the road ever since. one day he meets you and decides to stay in town a bit longer. He has a lot of scars both inside and out. This can be read as a smutty standalone but it was inspired by drifter!eddie and oregon!eddie. He is in the age range of 30-50 in these au's.
just more proof that Eddie Lives.
other short stories
18+ONLY, MDNI please, smut, unprotected piv, oral for all, fingering, creampie, use of she/her, mutual pining, monsterfucking only if you squint.
wc: 1.4k
“I haven’t done this in a while,” Eddie said, exhaling a shaky breath. 
You were standing just inside the door of his motel room, hands fisting the t-shirt material at his ribs under the heavy leather of his jacket, wordlessly begging to feel his skin on yours.  His hands were at your hips, kneading the meat there in time with his heartbeat, and he'd wanted you so bad for so long, he thought he might bust a seam on his jeans.
“It’s been a while for me, too,” you hummed against his throat, dragging your lips back and forth under his earlobe with the two hoop piercings before you sucked it into your mouth for a nibble. “But I hear it’s like riding a bike.”
God, he smelled so good.  Not like the last guy you’d been on a date with who wore so much cologne it blinded your senses, but a mix of Irish Spring soap, motor oil, and campfire.  The way skin smells after you’ve hiked in nature and soaked up the sun.
He’d been living at the motel for the past few months, pumping gas and slinging wrenches up the road, thinking he’d take off again in the spring, but then he met you, and something inside of him began to blossom out of the cold, dead rot in his veins. 
He took your face in his hands and his kisses were starved; depraved, even.  Clothing came off almost in a panic, each of you raw with the urgency to cure a bad case of mutual loneliness. 
You made your way down his chest, hands caressing every inch of his bare flesh in the dim of the gold lamp light, reading the braille of a man on the run from himself.  
You got to your knees when you pushed his jeans and boxers down, they fell to the ground with a thump from his wallet and chain.  He groaned when your soft lips went around the head of his cock, aching at the warmth of your acceptance.  A few searching kisses along his shaft and he was trembling; it had been so long since he’d let someone touch him. 
You were being so tender, as if he were fragile, as if he could break at any moment—as if you knew.  
“Tell me what you like?” You slowly stood to full height, stuttering a self-conscious laugh.  “Maybe I’m not as good at this as I thought.”
“No, you're so perfect,” he blurted, easing you back onto the bed, nudging your legs apart gently with his knee. He searched your eyes, “I want to see you.”
You shivered when his knuckles found the slick mess between your legs.  He was staring at your face, shifting his weight, watching your pleading reaction as you whimpered, “pleasepleasepleaseFuckplease.”
He licked in swirls down your stomach, you had scars there too. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered into the hair just above your prize, his hot breath on a secret place you hadn’t shared in a while.
His tongue found its home, and then rolled there like a crocodile with its prey. 
The way he devoured you made you arch back on the mattress and wail. 
“Th-that..that feels so good,” you clutched onto his head between your legs, digging your fingers into his hair, and he reached up to put his hand on top of yours, encouraging your guidance. 
It had been days since he remembered smiling, but he did then, against your heat, reveling in the way you shook and clung to him. 
He sank two fingers in and let out a long moan, unable to stop himself from thrusting against the bed, precum leaking from his tip. 
“More,” you writhed, clinging to the comforter, and he slipped a third in.
He felt the fluttering contraction and went deeper, hungrily lapping up whatever you could give him.  He heard you trying to speak but it only came out in gasps and whimpers, chanting his name like a prayer.
The hunger of the moment overtook him and, before he could stop himself, he growled.
It was the type of sound an animal would make, low and guttural, and it made your head snap up in surprise at the vibration of it.
Staring back at you from the end of the bed, his pupils glowed garnet red.  
In a post-orgasm haze, you must’ve imagined it. In a blink then they were normal again; dark orbs rimmed in white, watching you curiously.
He lowered his head to brush his lips over your swollen, soaked cunt. “Do you think she could handle another one?”
“Come up here with me?” Your voice was a rasp, and you did not have to ask him twice.
“I’m all yours,” he said with a wiggle of his brows, scooping you up to roll you over on the bed, and you squealed at how strong he was.
On top, you wasted no time guiding his throbbing length inside, straightening to work your way down and ease into it, throwing your head back.
He cursed at how well you took him, darting his hips up to meet you.  He loved seeing you like this, loved watching your face when you began to move.  He licked his thumb and forefinger and plucked at one of your nipples.  
What if he stayed another week?
Your eyes squeezed shut and he wondered if you had noticed what happened a few moments ago.
He’d lost himself back there, had felt himself going through the change at the peak of your arousal. 
That...thing he’d been carrying with him all those years since he’d almost died in the Upside Down was awake, and it was at his door, knocking.  
Bang bang bang.
Let me in, it hissed in a voice that sounded very much like his own. Let me have her.
It couldn’t have you, not ever. 
You were a sweet piece of heaven to him, a safe haven where he could forget who he was for however long he had with you.  
You screamed that you were close again, and his thumb was at your clit as you bounced.  “Eddie, oh fuck, oh god!” 
“I can't believe how good you feel," he grunted. "You gonna cum for me again baby, yeah?” He planted his feet on the mattress for leverage. 
He’d been able to cum before without changing, but with you it was different.
You’d awakened something…feral.
Before he could think too much about it, your walls were rippling around him, and he poured hot and heavy inside of you.  His whole body spasmed, and you were both making incomprehensible sounds, speaking in tongues.  
There was so much cum, he could feel it spilling out, and he just kept pounding it in, lost in a release so intense, it felt as if he were melting into the bed. 
Breathless, you collapsed to his chest, each of you sweaty and glistening and gasping for gulps of air.  
“Holy shit, I don’t think...I’ve ever…cum so hard…in my life…” you were trying to remember how to speak with your cheek pressed into his shoulder, unable to move. 
He curled his arms around you, turning to plant his lips on the back of your head as he spoke.  “Does that mean we could do this again?”
What was he talking about? He couldn’t see you again, he had to get out of town.  Hit the road.  Get back to his longtime lover, the lonely highway.  Eat dust and burn rubber. Everything he touched turned to shit, and the people close to him always got hurt
Or worse.
He cared about you enough to leave you.
But not that night
He would allow himself this, just a few more hours
To feel you fall asleep in his arms
To twitch and snore and breathe you in
He asked if you were comfortable when he pulled the covers up, painting kisses along your shoulder. 
He spooned you like you were his missing puzzle piece, the one he thought was long gone, tucked down somewhere in the couch cushion, and you reached a hand up to intertwine your fingers with his.
You hadn’t been sleeping well at all the past few weeks, but as your breathing found his rhythm, your eyes fluttered, and you drifted.  The last thing you remembered thinking was how long it had been since somebody held you.  
You were too relaxed to notice that the hand you held was no longer human.
The hand you held had claws.  
456 notes · View notes
borzoilover69 · 4 months
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Jake Writing Guide : 2024 Colourised!
Ok well, this isn't the prime year 2014 but I really wanted to make a concise and easy to consume guide for how to write Jake accurately since he can be quite the fussy tosspot if you dont know where to start. [ WARNING ITS A BIT LONG I INCLUDE JAKE DIALOGUE TO HELP WITH UNDERSTANDING WHAT IM SAYING. ] First off: drop the commas, and the apostrophes. He uses largely run-on sentences and has a sort of rambly sense of words. He does however use "these" every now and then and just as it strikes him tends to *Drag out the ole roleplayisms.* when it suits the situation.
Jake doesn't really tend to use old-timey slang but he does have rather antiquated ways of speaking, with a pension for more articulated language. He only REALLY breaks out the old timey words when particularly impressed or exasperated for emphasis. Usually, these words are british slang.
Note how he goes on a ramble that is slightly self-centred. He also spins stories similiar to how Dirk does, but without the ice-cold deal. Tossing in his own spin with his own words.
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This one is just really fucking funny.
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When hes particularly exasperated he leans into it MORE. Just really spreads it on thick. Like if he continues to say funny words you'll forget everything else and be distracted by his whimsy.
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Jake is FAR more socially aware than people give him credit for but prefers to avoid tricky subjects hes not too comfortable with until he feels suitably ready for it, prefers battles he knows he can win so to speak. He also tends to think hes overthinking it and backtrack into ignorance. He overcomplicates things same as dirk does but rather than doing Dirks "yup thats a me problem. Im going to quietly stress about it now!", jake brushes it under the rug and tries not to think about it like a college student trying not to think about their outstanding academic paper and the promise of "Yeah, I'll do it later" (doesn't)
Note his more genuine understanding of why Dirk functions the way he does, well aware of the pros AND cons of having something like a combat machine hunting him.
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His awareness of Janes crush and reluctance to deal with it:
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Subsequent backtracking and denial of said premonitions, brushing it under the rug. Again, stating his reluctance to get into it because it's a situation he's not wellversed. Jake doesn't like being put into unpredictable situations, he prefers the easy road that won't inconvenience him much.
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Also his desire to be seen as seemingly perfect and not have to dwell on others intents. Now this is something I don't see touched on as MUCH on writing guides for Jake English (then again the majority were made in 2014 so who can blame them.) But when Jake touches on what he views as MORE TABOO feelings aka ones which compromise the go-getter Adventurer image that arent BRAVE and GUSTO and GUNS, such as weakness, hesitation, he tends to pose back to the asking party as a question and reconsider his thought process. Like: Do YOU think its ok for me to feel this way? Why do you think that? Could you imagine me thinking something like that? He cares a LOT about his image and whats acceptable for him to be and to mask his difficulty in some social situations.
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He doesn't like acknowledging that which might be sort of difficult for him to come to terms with, with the ye olde character trait of repression that him and John share, believing if he keeps his feelings buttoned up, they don't need to feel embarassed (aka: avoidance)
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Hes also a fair bit more snarkier than fanon gives him hooks for. His subconscious takes the form of his best friend, but its commented as being “like hal, in terms of snarks”. Jake can also be the snarky customer to Dirk AND Hal, and Caliborn too. He's a gentleman to ladies (TO A DEGREE) but with guys he's not afraid to be more cutting with it. I am begging you on your hands and knees to drop the woobified jake english and make him slightly snarky and a bit offputting and weird. Jake grew up in the middle of a jungle and burned his grandmother.
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Also he seems to be slightly aware of outside forces, note him calling attention to the fact he knows things he shouldn't canonically even be able to know.
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Because Jake IS a little freak. He thinks corpse puppetry is funny. He punches what he thinks is fish hitler while ranting about movies. Hes funny as fuck. Hello.
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However, with all of THAT out of the way, lets focus on some of the more ABRASIVE parts of his personality. While Jake is funnily charming with his old lingo and tendency to ramble, he has issues! One HUGE one is reluctance to fully FACE things he doesnt feel he has a full grasp on. He DOESNT like going out of his comfort zone, he DOESNT like talking about his emotions to people he really cares about or thinks has fallen for his manic dreamboat pixie persona, He's well aware people fall for it. He works hard to make sure people DO. But it sort of restricts him to that persona, he can't grow from it as long as he holds onto the idea that this persona hes chasing is the only way he can BE without being vulnerable.
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Jake can be OVERBEARING, and not just that, painfully unaware when he's up his own ass! This critic he gives to Dirk applies to himself! The reason why he doesn't like brainghost dirk is because GOD forbid the man self-reflect juuust a little and find something that upsets him. Nope! Not going to deal with it. Just as quickly as he is to switch the thought that everyone loves him, he is just as likely to switch to think that everyone doesnt.
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Anyways, I think thats all I have to say, Jakes words speak a LOT about his character, and I genuinely love him a lot. He has some words i think about a lot and hes genuinely such an awesome guy. I'll let a few choice pieces of dialogue from Jake himself close this out for me.
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This was one of the last conversations we see with him. And I still think about his words a lot.
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I'll probably edit this when I get the energy. But I think i covered most of it. Happy writing!
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deansapplepie · 5 months
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The Spitting Image | Part 1
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Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader
Warnings: swearing, threatening, someone is punched, mentions of violence, mentions of doing harm to children (none of the characters, it’s just a thought), walkers, mentions of injuries, a little angsty. Minors do not interact. (If I forgot anything let me know)
Word Count: 4,419
A/N: It was supposed to be a one shot, but it was getting too big and I wasn’t in the middle of it, so I’ll make a mini series of it.
The reader’s son is 17 yo, so if you don’t feel comfortable reading something self insert having a kid this age, it’s up to you.
Here I’m supposing Daryl is in the beginning of his 40s when they get to Alexandria to make sense the age of his son.
Also, I have no idea how are the laws in the U.S.A. To register your children, so if it’s not possible to register a kid with the name of the father without the father, let’s pretend in this universe it is.
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Series Masterlist Part 2
Main Masterlist
It had been days that you were out there with Aaron and Eric, you had found a possible group to invite to Alexandria. While you and Aaron was observing them from afar in the road, Eric was in a nearby city waiting for you.
That group seemed like a good group, they took care of each other and shared. They also had a kid and a baby, it needed to mean something. As a mom, you could clearly identify with their struggles and want to protect every kid you came by, unless it was a psychopath kid that wanted to kill you and your son, then… you had no empathy.
United and righteous people were exactly the kind of people you needed for Alexandria. It seemed as they were hungry and thirsty you had some supplies you could give them to help. Hiding on the trees you could only observe them using binoculars as you needed to remain far from them because of safety. You had never zoomed to observe them this much before, but there was something intriguing you and you didn’t voice it to Aaron yet. He was one of your best friends back in Alexandria, but you had to make sure.
There were a guy, all wearing black. He had a sleeveless black shirt that showed his toned arms, he seemed to be tall and had really broad shoulders and a relatively long hair. He carried a crossbow, and even though he was as tired and week as everyone else, he tried to not let it show. You only knew a person like this, but it had been so long since you last saw him that you thought this was your mind playing games with you. You were so young back then, you changed so much… he probably did too, probably you even crossed paths before the world ended and you didn’t recognized each other. But you had to make sure it wasn’t him so just your mind would relax and you could control your anxiety.
That’s why you were zooming the binoculars to the maximum and focusing solely on him, expecting him to look to a side so you could clearly see his face. He did, and when he did your heart stopped for some milliseconds and you thought all the air was drawn from your lungs. “Holly shit!” Was the only thing you were able to say, so glad now you could openly curse, because there wasn’t any child around.
“What’s it?” Aaron asked curiously and you passed him the binoculars unable to say anything. He looked at it, zooming out and couldn’t see anything extraordinary. “I don’t see anything. What did you see?”
You rested your back on the trunk of the tree that you were both sitting on its branch. You tried to breath in and out, just like your therapist had recommended you when you started to treat you’re anxiety.
“Y/N, what happened?” Aaron asked again turning his attention to you and holding your hand, which you accepted gratefully.
“I… I think my ex is in this group.” Oh my God. You were freaking out! It wasn’t as if you had ended bad, well it depends on the point of view, but seeing him after all this years, after all that happened, after…
“You think?” Aaron asked one more time, if it was your ex why you sounded like you were not completely sure.
“Yes, it was a long time ago. We were barely adults, so we changed a lot, but I’m 98% sure the archer is him.” You said continuing your exercise and taking your canteen with shaking hands to drink some water.
“Oh… let me check him out and see if you have good taste in men.”
“Aaron!” You protested the most silently you could. “Well, you may surprise a little when you see him, he is…”
“… DJ’s father! Holly crap!” He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost as the man looked exactly like the teenager boy he knew back in Alexandria, of course the man was way older than the boy. “Do you have an uterus or a copy machine in your belly?”
“Ok, if even you can see it’s totally him.” You said and you didn’t know if you were relieved or anxious, probably both at the same time.
“Ok, so… is he a good person to take with us?” He had to ask, even though you were good friends, you never talked much about him, it seemed to hurt you a lot, so he never pushed.
“Yes, of course. Don’t think I’d have named my child after him if he wasn’t.” You answered. It wasn’t his fault or yours, you just had to blame people like your parents that thought they were better than everyone else. “It’s just that it has been so long after last time we saw each other, I’m just nervous to meet him again.”
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You tried approaching them by letting water and food as a gift for them on the road, but they just rejected everything, they were suspicious, they probably went through a lot of shit. You don’t blame them, you’d react the same if it was you. A heavy storm caught you by surprise, you needed to find shelter and protect yourselves. Once you saw the group entered a barn, you decided to go back to your RV and wait the next day or the storm pass before approaching them more directly this time.
The next morning the weather had improved, so you left again to where they were. At distance you saw two women near to the location of the barn, you approached them and presented yourselves and minutes later both of you were on your knees, hands behind your heads and an angry man in front of you. But before the said angry man could do anything or ask anything, the archer came from the shadows and your name left his lips. “Y/N”
“Daryl.” You replied a smile on your face, you wanted to keep a more straight face don’t be so pathetic about how you were happy to see him there alive, older and hotter, but you couldn’t, because it had always been like that, you’d see him and you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. You’d open the biggest smile at him and would have your heart racing with excitement and anxiety.
“Do you know each other?” The angry man asked Daryl, but you replied. You couldn’t hold your tongue, you were anxious and when it was like that, you’d say even what you weren’t meant to say.
“We dated.” You answered, also you knew that Daryl would die of shyness if he had to say you dated or anything like this. That’s if deep inside him he was still that boy.
The man you came to know the name was Rick Grimes shot you a look that said ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ and then looked back at Daryl in hopes he would confirm it or not. “Yeah, it’s true.”
“If she’s his ex, she’s no good. We should better don’t believe them.” You saw a ginger man with a big mustache speaking.
“Listen here, Obelix. You better not bad mouth me again or I’ll beat you so hard your mustache is going to end on your ass!” You were normally sweet and polite, but you’d never let anyone judge you, or anyone that you loved, especially this person that doesn’t even know you.
“Definitely related to Daryl.” An asian man said and couldn’t contain a small laugh, even in the state the group was.
Daryl had a smirk on his face and you couldn’t read what it meant. The Rick guy didn’t took it easy on you just because Daryl knew you, he argument people could change and he wasn’t wrong. Most of the time he hold the conversation with Aaron and you were glad about it, Aaron was better at this than you were, even though you could bring a sense of comfort most of the times when you approached women or groups with children, this wasn’t a situation where Aaron actually needed you. Unless they decided to kill both of you or something else, then you’d have to play the last card you could with them and that could only be used with them, because of Daryl. You’d need to use your son to convince them to let you go, and you’d hate to do such thing. Using your son to blackmail someone was never something you’d like to do.
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You remembered the day you first had the courage to talk to him, you had always thought he was cute and cool, but you never had the courage. Until a day your “friends” excluded you and you didn’t even got to know why. You were 16 and they were so immature to do such thing, so yeah, it was their loss you thought. That’s what you tried to say and convince yourself you were better without them.
At lunch time having no table to sit, you went straight to his table, that was it, your opportunity to get to know him. “Can I have a sit here?” You asked in front of him.
“ ‘m not the owner of the chair.” He said, eyes on his plate. “But ya won’t want to be seen with me sweetheart.”
“Thanks.” You put your tray on the table and took the chair in front of him. “I’m Y/N.”
“Daryl. We already know each other. We had a subject together. Once.” He remembered! You were ecstatic, of course you’d remember him, you developed a huge crush on him since you had to pair up, but you didn’t expect him to remember you. You didn’t think you were as cool as the other girls to be remembered. “Ya still have time to maintain the integrity of yer reputation and leave.”
“I have no reputation to save, my friends simply decided I’m not cool anymore, so… fuck them, gonna make whatever I want.” He snorted, he never thought he’d live to see you cuss. You never looked like one to do so. “What’s funny?”
“Thought you never cussed.”
“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me Dixon.” You replied and from this time you started to pass more and more time together, starting a strange friendship that was the commonest thing for both of you, but people outside loved to judge.
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Most of the time they were discussing, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. It was as if you did, he’d disappear into thin air. In the end Rick sent a group to your RV to confirm if you were telling the truth and threatened killing you if they took too long to comeback. After they came back, Rick agreed to go to Alexandria but they would drive and you should tell them where it was, and then started again another drama.
“How are we supposed to trust you? Maybe you got another group and a radio and you’re going to attack our place. We have children and elders, we can’t risk.” You tried to reason with him, even though you knew you were in a small number and you’d never win this ‘battle’.
“Don’t you trust Daryl?” Rick threw this card. Really?
“How am I supposed to when you didn’t believe me and he did nothing to tell you were wrong and I could be trusted?” He knew you were right, not even for a second you thought Daryl wasn’t the same, but you had a point and even he knew it.
In the end you had no option but give in to their requests. You took them to the nearest city so you could take Eric too and while fighting against walkers he got his ankle hurt. Not longer after you got back to the road and in direction of Alexandria. While going there you tried to make some small talk with them, but most were not very open to it.
“What’s her name?” You asked Daryl that had a beautiful baby in his arms.
“ ‘s Judith.” He answered, he looked at her with such adoration. It was adorable to see such a big and rustic man being so tender with a baby in his arms.
“She’s so pretty.” You always wanted a baby girl, but of course you were more than happy with your baby boy. It was just a silly girl dream to have a daughter so you can play doll with them. “Can I hold her a little? There’s a long time I don’t get to hold a baby.”
Despite the common silent agreement of the group to not trust you just yet, he trusted you and was sure you’d do nothing against his ‘lil ass kicker’. So he let you have her a little in your arms and she continued to sleep peacefully. Carl observed you with the eyes of a hawk, ready to end you if you did anything wrong against his little sister, but you didn’t.
“Is your family with ya?” Daryl drawled by your side while you were mesmerized by little Jude. He wanted to know if your asshole of dad was still around and also your mom, but he couldn’t ask it like this, he didn’t know how your relation with them were after everything, he didn’t want to offend you.
“It’s just me and my son, but he’s not this cute anymore and I no longer can carry him in my arms like that.” You replied, wishing he’d have curiosity about DJ, but also afraid of where this curiosity could take you in this moment.
“What’s his name?” He asked trying to be polite, but deep down it hurt him that you had another lover and had a child, he couldn’t control this, but it was painful anyway.
“DJ.” You simply said, god you didn’t want to reveal at this moment your baby was Daryl Dixon Junior. Before he could ask the name and not the nickname, you threw another question at him. “Did you get any of my letters?”
He was taken aback. You tried to keep contact with him. You tried to reach him out. “Did ya send me letters? I… Ididn’t know. I left with Merle shortly after what happened. Probably old man got them.”
By his surprise you believed he really didn’t know. He never read the letters. He never ignored you or pretended your son didn’t exist. Deep down, you knew he’d never do that, but you never could confirm it, because you never got to see him again. Until now.
A little after Carl took Judith from your arms, you already had enough. He couldn’t let you more than you were supposed to with the baby. While your mind wandered to the past, Daryl’s were a turmoil trying to decipher what could be the name of your son, since you gave no detail.
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The day prior he had warned you ‘wear sneakers tomorrow, you asked why and he just repeated what he said before. So you did. There was almost a year since your friendship with Daryl Dixon started and at that moment, he was your best friend. Sometimes he’d stay with you studying in the library or just hanging out around the city. You trusted him.
Next day, you arrived at school and found him next to an old blue truck. “What’s that?”
“A car.” He answered the obvious.
“I know dumbass! But where did you get it?” You asked curiously, he had never gone to school in one.
“I borrowed it from Merle without telling him.” Which means he stole his own brother, at least for some hours. “I’m returning it later, probably won’t even know about it. He’s knocked out in his bedroom.”
“Ok, if he catch us, I’m telling it was all you.” You played with him, but you knew Merle would never catch you, at least not before Daryl arrived at home with it.
“It actually was.” He shrugged. “Also, no way he’d believe a sweet thing like you helped me in any of that.” You instantly blushed, it wasn’t always that Daryl would throw sweet words or compliments at you, so every time you’d not fail and blush. “Did ya wear sneakers?”
“Yep.” You put one foot in front of you to show your sneakers.
“Pink? Really?” He teased you, he knew for sure you’d wear at least one thing pink and you were always wearing sandals or any other more delicate shoes.
“I don’t have many sneakers, so… yeah.” You retracted your foot to stand close to the other again.
As soon as the bell rang you entered the school and went to your classes. In the end of the day, you got together at the parking lot ready to spend your day together. “Where are we going?” You asked curiously.
“Get in the car and you’ll see.” He replied going to the driver’s side.
“Ok, Dar. I’ll let you be all mysterious while I die out of curiosity.” You dramatically entered the truck and took the passenger sit.
You drove for some time and even got outside the city. You knew he was familiarized with the forest, he told you he’d hunt, but you never thought he’d bring you someday near it. “You know I know shit about hunting, don’t you?” You asked while the car stopped close to a small trail.
“Yep, dun worry. I didn’t bring ya here to go hunting. It’s something else, wanna show you a place.” He slightly touched your hand reassuring you and you could swear it sent a delicious tingling sensation all over your body.
He got out of the truck, took a bag in the truck bed and waited for you so you could start the trail. There was 5 minutes you were walking when you tripped and almost fell down, leading to the boy to hold your hand until you arrived at your final destination.
It was a waterfall, a beautiful one, with a small lake. The water was a beautiful green surrounded by big rocks. You got all excited with the sight and gave your biggest smile to him, which made his heart flutter and stole a small smile from him.
You took your sneakers off and both of you sat on a rock where you could put your feet in the cold refreshing water. There was the shadow of a tree that made it bearable to be outside there in the warm weather. You loved how Daryl was relaxed and just enjoying the place and your company, you could talk a lot or talk nothing and it would be perfect for him.
You don’t know what made you do that, but the moment just felt perfect to speak your mind to him, actually speak with your heart. “I like you, Daryl.”
“Yeah, we’re friends of course ya do.” It was obvious if you didn’t you wouldn’t be around.
“No, I like you in the way I’ve been crushing on you for years and just now I have the courage to say, yay…” you said, trying to be a little funny so the moment wouldn’t be so embarrassing, but it would be already too embarrassing if he just rejected you at that moment.
He looked at you impressed and thinking how you could like him for so long if everybody in the school, no, in the damn city thought he was a sore loser and a scumbag. “Are ya sure?” He double checked, just in case.
“I wouldn’t put myself in this embarrassing situation with risk of you rejecting me and losing your friendship if I didn’t.” You turned to look at him and were struck by his deep blue eyes that seemed to see your soul every time you looked into it. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, I’ll…”
Before you could finish your apologetic sentence, his lips crashed on yours and his hand held yours one more time, and that was the first of many kisses you’d come to share in the following years.
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You woke up startled, the RV came to a stop. You were finally at the gates of Alexandria, you and Aaron got off first and the rest of the group followed you and once the gates were open you could see that at the same time they were cautious they were also impressed with the place. You entered the gate and Deanna came to welcome the new people. Aaron took Eric to the infirmary and before you could excuse yourself and go home take a good bath and spend some quality time with your child, you saw the tall teenager in his 17s running in your direction. You suddenly worried, he would see him. Both of them would see each other. You smiled at your baby boy that wasn’t a baby anymore, and he hugged you tightly even taking you from the ground. He had became so tall in the last years that it was funny to see the difference of his height to his mom’s.
Daryl was frozen in place, when he saw the young man running in your direction it was as if he could see his younger self in the past, but he wasn’t hallucinating or anything like that, because that boy that looked so much like him had also many features from you. The group looked surprised at the boy, probably thinking the same thing Aaron thought when he landed his eyes at Daryl. A million thoughts ran on the hunter’s mind, this kid just could be his… he had too because no way someone could look so much like the other and don’t be blood related, especially being the son of your youth lover.
“How are you baby?” You asked cupping DJ’s face with your hand and checking his face to see if he was healthy and well.
“I’m ok mom, are you good?” He asked back observing you, he had always been such a good observer.
“We need to talk…” you started to say but couldn’t finish because the boy’s eyes landed on Daryl some meters behind looking at both of you.
DJ knew, you told him before how he looked so much like his dad. So he knew when he looked strictly to an older version of him. He put you aside and walked strong steps on Daryl’s direction, you yelled his name but he just ignored you and before you could stop him, he punched his father right on his jaw.
“DJ! No!” You put yourself between both of them.
“No? Mom! He never cared about us and now he just shows here like this? He ignored all the letters you sent and the pictures of me, and…” he bursted the feelings trapped on his chest all those years. He had the perfect speech on his mind, he elaborated it for years just to end his father and make him ashamed of what he did, but now he didn’t even say half of it and the rest stayed stuck in his throat unable to come out as tears accumulated in his blue eyes.
“It’s ok. I probably deserve it.” Daryl said from behind.
“Honey, it’s not like this. We don’t solve anything like this. You don’t know the whole story.” You rested your hands on your son’s shoulders.
“You mean the edited version of how he never cared about us, or looked for us? I know you never told me everything, I’m not stupid. And I also know men are bastards that don’t care about discarding pregnant women!” Shit. Shit. Shit. Things were getting out of control the boy was causing a scene.
“Listen to me, Daryl Dixon Junior! I’m your mother and I’d never name you after your father if he was this kind of bastard!” You firmly told him, there were so many years that you didn’t call him by his whole name that he knew he would be in trouble if he didn’t obey you at that moment. “Now, apologize, go home and wait for me.”
“Fine.” The young man said teeth greeted. “I’m sorry for punching you because you’re an asshole.” With that he turned around and left before you could lecture him one more time in front of everyone.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daryl asked. Obviously not talking about the past, it was clear to him that you tried in the past.
“I wouldn’t dare use my son to bring you to safety. I know you’d come if I said, and your group… I know this kind of bond, you’re family. I didn’t want to be selfish and make all of you come because I used DJ to convince you. I wanted you to come because you wanted, because you trusted what Aaron and I were offering.”
He couldn’t understand well about it, he wasn’t a father till some minutes ago… even though he wished he was one long before, the kid really had a personality, reminding him a lot about himself and even about Merle. But he could try to understand, to listen to you and if he stopped to think, it didn’t made a difference if you told before or now, he would still have the same feeling of anxiety, excitement and lost, lost for all the years and everything that he lost not being around his son.
“I’m sorry you had to discover like that.” You apologized even though you knew in no way it would be less shocking for him. “We have a lot to talk, the three of us… of course, if you want to.”
“Yeah, we need to talk. I wanna know everything and I wanna know him, if ya allow me and if he wants.” He was quick to answer. God, how could you even give him a choice? He had to do it.
“Great. So… I’m gonna let you finish solving things with Deanna, when you are free, come to my house. It’s the one with the magenta pink doormat.” You give some steps backwards, eyes still on him.
“Pink, hugh…” he knew everything with you needed to have a little of pink and for sure with the end of the world you could not afford pink acessories, at least you’d make sure that one thing in your life was.
“Yes…” you almost murmured. “I’ll see you later.”
“See ya…” he replied. Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)
Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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