#sem
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Hiiiiiiiii, I hope you’re well! This is my first time sending you an ask but I’m really curious about something :)
What would have happened if ms. Moons had ended up pregnant before she left satoru? Like her birth control failed or something and she gets pregnant, satoru doesn’t know and she still leaves, ends up raising the baby on her own and when they are reunited satoru finds out he had a kid with her. Would he have been happy to know he had a baby with her, would he step up to be a good dad???
SEM!Satoru being a good dad hahahahahaha you're so funny bestie.
once again. he will not care about the baby. it's not about 'omg i wanna raise a life with my one true love' it's just another leash for him. another promise he makes to himself that he owns you. the poor kid is just a physical manifestation for that.
he'd definitely be pissed if he finds Ms.moon again and discovers he has a kid. Not because he was kept away from the brat all this time, more in the sense that even a baby wasn't enough to keep you tethered to him. It hurts his pride a little.
Still, it's his blood and you both are clearly a package. He'd take the kid in, but he'd make it extremely clear on the fact that your kid's well-being hinged on your behavior. He's too soft to hurt you, but he doesn't have the same sentiment for your kid. It's a great way to keep you in line. Despite his irritation, he has to admit that your kid still served its purpose in the end.
Call Satoru superficial, but the way he treats his kid will mostly depend on how much said kid looks. That being said, he won't make his irritation known to the child, at least. He'd be nice and silly and cute, but behind closed doors he'd definitely complain and not so gently hint at this amazing overseas boarding school.
He'd tolerate the kid's presence a lot more if they looked like him. He'll see the kid as an extension of himself. If he isn't there around you, well, his reminder would. In his own demented way, the kid is like a memento from him to you.
If the kid looks like you, he'd be far less jealous of them. After all, it's a mini you! So cute! He'd behave more 'father-like' towards the kid. They might even go on fishing trips together.
God forbid if the kid doesn't look like you or him.
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Missing Flowers ( @semisolidmind Fanfic)
I wrote this because I was inspired by another bit of work. This one is sweet ans short and Mac centric. Inspired by this ask! Twice as Bad Au make brain go brrrr
Tw for some violence mentions and some allusions to intimate behaviour (it is not detailed at all - in fact you may miss it entirely - but it is alluded to thats why I mention this)
As the sweet scents of spring created on the wind, carrying blossoms and the soft buzzing bodies of bumblebees, Peaches felt a deep pang of loss. Outside in the spring air, walking along the edge of the mountains with the small attendants she was given, she looked out beyond the sparkling sea. Beyond the mountains and the sky and all that lay between. She imagined she was looking homeward. To her village.
She missed her village, missed her people who she knew as family and as friends. She missed the smell of the earth, the taste of the rain on her tongue and how the sun angled itself through her shuttered windows to cast the dust motes in startling detail as they passed through the beams. It had been over a decade now since her marriage of ‘demonic fashion’ to the rulers of Flower Fruit Mountain. The ache never would go away- it would linger like a hole in her smile, a tooth lost and never replaced.
However it wasn’t her village today that was making her homesick.
Peaches had a little patch of earth, maybe an acre large that she had dedicated to the propagation of flowers and fruits, vegetables and all manner of growing things. It had taken years of careful selection, of collecting seeds from far and wide, of dedicated research and late nights in the snow and the ice and the building of her greenhouse to gather the collection she had had.
Peaches had turned the soil, mixing it with her grass clippings, ash from the fire place, and the compost to enrich it. It had been years of careful and quiet work to build her collection of plants. The glass bits for her greenhouse had costed her years and years of hard work. She had been unable to have it as large as she wanted but it was enough. Within the wooden little wall sat her favorite flowers, the precious few she had bargained and hunted for, the seeds and clippings, were all here safe within the wooden walls.
All her work over the past few years gone in a flash of fire and a slash of violence. What had happened to her little home? Was the house standing? Rotting in its neglect of the years. Did someone take over her home if it was still standing?
The stairs would need replacing. The second one had been creaking before her kidnapping. The wood had been softening and she had her eyes on a tree just beyond her garden. She had planned to cut it free and carve a new replacement. What of her animals? She had had a small herd of goats, little bleating creatures of brown and white.
The goats had been her source of fresh milk, meat and weed control. Each had been given a name. Each had been loved.
Had they been able to get away?
Had they been burned in the fire?
Peaches knew that the flowers and fruits she had were gone. Those couldn’t have escaped the fire - or the human retribution that would follow from any survivors.
Would Wukong have left survivors ? The Sage had come home many a times from such violence. He had woken her with cold hands grasping and seeking her out. He buried them in her hair or twined them in her fingers. Wukong would pull her to him and away from her own makeshift nest within their bed. In those early days he had not learned that the smell of fire and blood would upset her.
Those nights his blood had been on fire from conquest and he wanted only to enjoy the comfort of one of his dearest prizes. Her. Wukong would touch and whisper love into her ears as he fell asleep, a peace only she could bring in the aftermath of those bloodbaths. Sometimes she would wake in the morning to find blood smeared along her cheeks and in her hair.
It had been one of the times Macaque had found her hyperventilating after such a morning covered in blood that wasn’t hers, confused to where it could be from, and the memories of the night when the drunk had invaded her home.
And her world had changed. She had been pulled to his arms, her own chest pressing to his. Instructed to follow his breathing, to listen to the air whoosh from his body. To hold. Then to fill again like the bellows of a blacksmiths forge. And then to deflate.
When her breathing did not sound like the frantic flapping of a broken birds wing, thats when Macaque had asked her what happened. What had triggered her memories. Peaches asked how he knew- and her second husband rubbed a thumb beneath her eyes and caught a tear.
“You were screaming. Telling me to stop burning the village.” The words sounded sad. Not remorseful. Never remorseful for the actions that led here here. That brought her to residency in the mountain. The sadness was instead about the scars left behind, the invisible wounds that their actions had created.
After that, Wukong never came to bed smelling of blood or fresh from a conquest.
Wukong would never leave survivors of the village. Not after what he thought was a slight to her, to his perception of what was his. An extension of his own self importance. No. That seemed wrong even as Peaches thought it. Maybe she was an extension of his grandeur. But she wasn’t just a prize to be turned and looked at. Somehow, in some way, he had fallen in love with her.
Love for Wukong- for Macaque- was not like human love. Just as two peach trees could produce different fruits. Peaches knew that love between people was more of a communication, a build up to a relationship. At least in the best situations. Demons however … it was more draconic in a sense. To claim and catch, to conquer before another could take the prize between its claws and keep for themselves. Like dogs fighting over scraps, love was something to catch and hoard and keep.
Maybe it wasn’t so different from humans. Stories and mythologies had been woven of love like this. Men had gone to war and killed thousands of others in the name of one paramour, one love.
Wukong had done that. He had taken a conceived obstacle and removed it. He had snatched her as a wolf would steal a lamb in the cold of winter, taking her back to the mountain. Devouring her freedom to secure his happiness. When his brother came to see, to wonder at why their paramour was here. It hadn’t taken much convincing. It was as natural as breathing to take in their world.
Peaches attendants, those young ladies, waited patiently. Peaches stared out across the world and wished she had the eyes of eagles to stare and devour the miles so she could see for herself.
Was her garden truly gone? Had anything wild had been left behind ?
Had the apple trees gone wild? Were green granny smiths now growing wild among the pink ladys and dorsett goldens? Were the nectarines falling from the trees to rot beautifully in a horrid flash of sweet sick decay? Did the bees still pollinate whatever roses and hydrangeas survived ?
Had the fire consumed everything?
She missed her garden. Her plants. She missed her home.
She had been so lost in thought that she didn’t notice how her Ladies in waiting called out- she didn’t notice the shadow length beneath her feet. Until suddenly the ground was not ground at all but a gaping black hole- and she fell screaming.
Right into a warm embrace and soft fur that smelled like orange blossoms and plum wine. Laughter bubbled out of Macaque bare chest. “I would think the Queen would be more aware of her surroundings by now.”
Peaches pulled away enough to hook her husband with a scowl. It was half hearted as the demonic monkey dipped downward and pressed his lips to the side of her face in soft peppered kisses. Peaches laughed at the affection, able to ease into the comfort that the six eared macaque had grown between them. The chestnut trees above them rattled like ladies whispering as casting the sunlight like dice over a game.
“Some brutes don’t walk - some slink in shadows.” Peaches teased back. She lifted a hand up and along Macaques face. Her fingers touched his ears- all six on display today instead of being glamoured and hidden. The large clawed hand tightened beneath her as she brushed her hands over them. Macaque leaned into her touch, pressing his face, and her hand, into hers.
“Slink?” The monkey teased. They were beneath a cluster of chestnut and beech trees. A whole new position upon the mountain - possibly leagues across the great kingdom.
“Slink?” Macaque nipped her ear and she yelped in surprise- cheeky like. “I do not slink.”
And then the stomach flip as the magic pulled them in. The very shadows that seemed to seep and flow through macaques black fur, the ebbing of ocean currents between the jetties of his being. The cold kissed her nose, the sun flashed. Peaches blinked as the orientation of the sky reasserted itself. They were closer to Water Curtain cave now. The mosses and lichens that grew in the soft moisture were tell tale signs.
“I merely use what I have to my advantage.”The Six Eared Macaque pulled his wife into himself as he began to walk. In her decade here she had begun to see the mountain like a second skin. Each turn of stone was becoming like a new crease in her skin. Here she understood that, even though the forest was near the palace, it was no where she had treaded recently.
Her husband was taking her somewhere. But where ?
“You left my ladies in distress.” Peaches asked. The steps against the forest floor were soothing. Would she allow herself to be soothed ? It was easier for Peaches to forget the scars that marred her when it was Macaque. With Wukong …
It would always be a sore spot. Always be cut that had healed too thin and the scar left behind would ache in the cold.
“I left them with a note that said I was taking my wife for a moment.”
How different the world would be if they had just asked her to come with them. Had the two brothers even floated the idea between each other? Thought to show her the beautiful mountain and let her fall into it and in love with it ? Peaches knew she would have come. The beauty here was unmatched - the fruits and flowers and plants and growing things would have stolen her away faster then a demons courting could ever achieve. If her boys had only asked her… only shown her….
“How are you Peaches ?” Macaques voice was soft.
“I am… far away.” She decided to be honest.
“The memories again?” Soft, gentle. Her sweet boy was still there. Still within this … sorrow. Peaches had found the little monkey bleeding among her hydrangeas and honeysuckle. The white and purple petals were turned crimson and crushed beneath the tiny body. Of course he had been a wild thing, a furious flash of teeth and claws. Any animal would be. So when the weak little monkey bit into her hand she hadn’t flinched. Instead she had waited, taking a blanket to scoop the poor creature up and into her arms- and to contain those claws. The bite was foolish- what she did was foolish- but… she was a foolish women.
The bite was deep, the pain a lance in her mind. Those teeth were large enough, sabers in gums - knives of nature that cut into the soft pad of her flesh. He didn’t let go, he didn’t release her hand until the blood on his flank was cleaned. Until the gash in his side had been sewed shut. He was too weak to worry her flesh into ruin. To take his pain and tear her apart. He could have. Though small, though at a disadvantage, the little was gifted with weapons where Peaches had been gifted none. She was soft handed, soft as a magnolia flower. No claws no teeth no strength.
Yet he did not tear her apart. The tiny monkey was left alone after he was patched up. A bowl of water, a small basket of peeled mandarins. And the window- left open to let in the wet jungle air. Her kindness had cost her her hand- the day after it was purple and swollen. It was hard to work in the soil- to work in the garden and her little farm. She had carrots to pull, goats to milk, and trees to prune. By the end of the day she could barely close the hand and it had grown yellow on top of the purple. Like a plum trampled enough to ruin the flesh but not enough to break it open.
The next morning however, when she unwrapped to tend the wound and let it breath… she found the wrappings clean. The swelling was gone. The punctures were still there. But…. They had healed over.
She had been a fool. Peaches had thought it was from her tending that the wound had healed up. She had been a fool. Who would have known that her foolish heart would lead to this future?
“Its not just the memories- its a memory.” They had stopped walking now.
“Which one?” The leaves rustled above them. The air smelled of water and earth and stone. It was … calming. So the memory coming forward now wasn’t cast in sorrow. But in calm.
“Of you.” She reached up and pressed a finger to the very tip of his nose. “Of the garden. When we first met.”
Macaque grimaced.
“Not my best introduction...” He looked down at her hand. The scar was still there, silver moons along her skin.
“Are you embarrassed?”Peaches teased. Macaque paused. He set her down onto her feet, kneeling. His hands caught her wrist- the one he had scared all those years ago- and brought it to his face.
“Truly I am. I mauled your hand.”He kissed it, rubbed a claw over the scars, worried at it with his lips and his tender forehead brushes.
“You were in pain. And you healed it.” Peaches pulled him up. Off his knees. In these moments, these tender touches, was the sweetness that had grown between them. There was the flash of that little monkey she had saved. Who had slowly begun to bring her gifts and treasures. His first gift had never been showed. Macaque had never been talked about- as it had required secrecy.
“Lao Tzi had chased me out.” The simian smiled into her face, teeth flashing like moonlight. “Heaven was in an uproar over my thievery. But … they thought I was Wukong.”
“Mac!” She beat on his shoulder in play. Roaring laughter was rewarded to her as the trickier of the two loomed over and draped his arms over her front, pressing her back to his chest.
“I couldn’t let them know it was me!” His teeth were in her hair, soft croons and gentle nips being pressed to her skin. “I was in a bit of a hurry.”
Her cheeky six eared husband then began to press her and tease her in a very flirtatious fashion that turned Peaches skin flushed and burning. It was long moments and minutes after the teasing and the stolen presses of kisses and promises for later, that Peaches decided to open her heart a bit more to him.
“I miss it all. I miss the house and the village and …. I miss the garden the most. All my plants. My animals…” Peaches rested her face in his arm, drinking in the plum wine and orange blossom smell that was so thickly wrapped in his fur.
“All the growing things… do you think they are still there ?” It was easy to think of it here, when Macaque had been kind and soft to her. When he understood what emotional wounds were still healing, still painfully sore. The rush of his heart was against her ear was nice.
“Have they gone wild and returned to the woods ? What of the roses- they are the hardest here to tend. And the magnolia trees….” A bird flitted and flew its way between the emerald leaves. A dolphin flying through a sea of emerald green.
Macaque spun her suddenly, his hand gripping hers, his tail flicking. She was pulled along, hands grasping his as they walked faster.
“Lets walk. We will go and see the orchards and you will tell me all the flowers you had and loved and never got to tend.”
“I would tell you anyway.” Peaches laughed softly. “I loved my flowers.”
The look of serious thought didn’t alleviate in the wake of her laughter.
“You will tell me in detail and what seasons they grow- and what habitats they grow in. Who the traders were that gave you the seeds and the clippings.” They rounded the corner of a stone outcropping, the path before them becoming more well trodden. The path to the orchards.
“And I want you to find a piece of the mountain- get that foolish orange orangutang of my brother to help you clear it and drain it and turn its soil rich.”
The realization was dawning on Peaches then.
“Ma-Macaque…” Was he suggesting what her heart was starting to hope?
“You get the land ready.” His fingers squeezed hers. “I will collect the seeds in my journeys. I will find the best lines and horticulturists and gather you a collection that will rival the one we foolishly took from you.”
His eyes held hers. It had the same effect that a sunrise had on a snow trapped forest. The light in them was refracted and doubled as Peaches felt her heart fill. She didn’t realize that tears were dripping until Macaque was reaching up to coo and rub them free, calling to her in comforting familial tones a monkey would use to soothe an create comfort.
“And I will be able to play within your garden and see you smile like you just did. I would bring down the lunar gardens to see you smile again… as you did when i first saw you in that garden. ”
#hcwrites#hcfanfics#writing stuff#twice as bad au#bad end wukong#fanfic for semisolid#HERE YOU GO. A SWEET ONE#A MAC CENTRIC ONE#I see mac as a sweetheart#hes a good boy even though hes just as murdery and violence filled as his brother#jttw au#jttw tag#sun wukong#jttw fanfic#lmk#lmk fanfiction#six eared macaque#sem#bad end wukong weeeeee#this one was nice to pull out some other language i never use#just a fun little one#THIS IS NOT THE ONE FOLLOWING UP TO THE TIGER ON THE MOUNTAIN#I just wanted to write Mac pledging to get Peaches her garden back#because of course he would also love that garden- and her having come upon him#yes i think mac would have stolen some sort of healing potion or pill from the immortals#i mean#he did bite the fuck out of her hand#and those teeth?!!#peaches is glad he wasnt at any sort of mental place to shake and tear apart her skin#like a shark she would have been torn apart
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Estaba muy estresada como para hacer dibujo con boceto
Bueno, allí les dejo el primer re draw que hago en esta libreta, creo
#art#tradicional art#fanart#artists on tumblr#draw#illustration#drawing#sketch#doodle#lmk#lmk six eared macaque#lmk art#fanart lmk#lmk fandom#lmk fanart#SEM#macaque fanart#lego macaque#six eared macaque#macaque#lego monkey kid macaque#lego#lego monkie kid#lego monkey kid fanart#redraw#re draw#liu er mihou#liu er mihou fanart#lmk liu er mihou#black and white
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O que ninguém te conta sobre o “não” de Deus.
Quase um ano e meio do “não” que quase me enlouqueceu, posso dizer que tem dias que suportar o “não” é muito difícil, quase impossível e que se não fosse o Espírito Santo não teria como aguentar. O “não” do Pai não significa que logo vem um sim ou que como um passe de mágica você vai deixar de querer aquilo, pelo contrário, você mata mais um pouco da sua carne a cada dia que você se recusa a viver do seu modo e isso às vezes dói pra caramba, mas Deus sempre tem um refrigério! Tem dias que você vai achar que entendeu tudo errado, que foi loucura da sua cabeça porque não é possível que doa/machuque/incomode tanto por tanto tempo algo que veio de Deus, só que o problema não está no que Deus direcionou mas na mania que todo ser humano tem de achar que sabe o melhor para si quando na verdade vemos muito mal uma linha enquanto Deus vê toda a história. O “não” de Deus é uma das coisas mais dolorosas que se pode viver, mas também é uma das melhores coisas que podemos receber Dele! É Deus nos amando com toda sua força, graça e misericórdia porque Ele não tem apenas alguns momentos bons para vivermos, mas Ele tem a vida abundante disponível para todos nós. Aquele “não” ainda arranca minhas lágrimas e aperta aqui no peito mas também faz com que eu veja o quanto Deus está perto cuidando de mim. Enfim, o “não” é terrível, mas nunca seria pior que viver uma vida fora da vontade de Deus e estar perto do Pai faz tudo valer a pena!
carol giovannini, chance com Deus.
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Wonderful boys for wonderful @alserm
o(〃＾▽＾〃)o
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I know I don't do any SEM/SWK ships but I thought about a scenario where SEM is the leader of his own troop trying to woo SWK into being his boo— going with something like a "Ape together strong." thing.
SEM (as a headcannon) would also be a monkey born from mud, unlike Wùkōng who is a stone monkey. He is a mud or clay monkey that gained his six ears bc of this and that, and was strong enough to amass a huge troop of his own like a few thousand family members. But of course, it would never be as huge as Wùkōng's family of 47 thousand monkeys. SEM isn't even completely evil here but still does his face stealing gimmick and being an overall dick sometimes— terrorizing some beasts and other Yao in their territories. Just overall chilling. Then he saw or heard about Wùkōng and then went "Hey that dude is strong. I'm also strong. I wanna make him my mate so we can be strong together. Also strong me and strong mate = to strong babies. We could do that together. Yeah. Strong family."
That's deadass his only coherent and ambitious goal ever since defeating the last troop leader a hundred years ago or so.
Aaaand that's how he found himself presenting a huge beheaded Yao to Wùkōng w his family of terrified monkeys that saw this random six eared monkey just punt the corpse inside Shuilian Cave.
In a 'flirty' way.
#jttw#jttw au#journey to the west#six eared macaque#SEM#liu er mihou#SWK#sun wukong#jttw scenraio#jttw sun wukong#jttw liu er mihou#I'm not even gonna call it Shadowpeach it's Dumbass x Dumbass#or Sunplum— it's sounds cute#yeah that's a better ship name for this disaster#Sunplum#sem x swk#shadowpeach
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#digital marketing#marketing#business#search engine optimization#students#smm#sem#seo#content writting
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Parsnips and turnips...and meat
Bearing in mind the season that's in it, I'm happy to tag this post as containing food, and indeed foods (like pork) some of my followers may not care to see. So: done. (Because sometimes, courtesy's best embodied in caution: and v.v. If someone knows a better way to tag for these purposes, do let me know in the comments.)
...And that said: we had a reshoot scheduled for the roasted root vegetables recipe over at the Food and Cooking of the Middle Kingdoms site. So that was getting ready to go forward today, and I thought, "But why not look at the recipe list and see if there's anything else in the freezer we can thaw out and cook / plate up with them? Because veggies tend to look a little lonely by themselves."
So: here's a dry run for the black vinegar-braised bacon chops recipe that's been lurking in the wings for a while. (See the "in prep" tab at the master recipes listing.)
...For those interested: this recipe is unquestionably a Ladhain invention. It seems pigs were not present "south of the Wall" before the King asked the Dragons to break a new pass through the Bluepeaks onto Arlen's soil, through which Ladhain (formerly "Reaver") people could migrate into Arlene lands should they wish. And apparently the Ladhain are now seriously into pork. Per this (in the upcoming Tales of the Five 3: The LIbrarian) from the new young Chief of all Chieftains of the Ladha—a.k.a. the guy who kllled Freelorn* in The Door Into Shadow:*
“We were bred to be enemies to one another,” Sem said very low, “like the bear and the corkindrill. But we've denied that breeding, and sought another way. What luck was it that we survived that denial, my brother?”
Freelorn shook his head. “Not luck,” he said. “Someone else had a hand in what came after.”
Sem nodded. After a few moments that they both spent looking into the fire, he said, “While I was at your wedding…”
Freelorn couldn’t help but laugh under his breath. Over a number of visits he'd heard a fair number of stories that began with those words and ended with tales of Sem trying to deal with his people’s seriously varied reactions to Arlene hospitality. “It’s another story about the wine, isn’t it,” Lorn said.
“Not as such,” Sem said. And then he too laughed: that small breathy laugh that came so rarely from him. “…Well, yes. I had… perhaps more wine than was wise? My head began to ache me, for everyone who saw me desired to let me know I was welcome by giving me more of it. So I went to sit a while and have some of the roast pork.”
Freelorn turned his head to reach for the jug and somewhat hide his smile. Pigs seemed not to have made it past the Wall in the millennia before it was broken, and if there was one request that always came up when dinner for visiting Ladha was planned, it was pork. When it came to pork crackling, the Chief of all Chieftains of his people had a soft spot a league wide—so that one of the few aspects of a royal dinner in Arlen that could make Herewiss and Sem laugh at each other across a platter was when they each strove to confiscate the best piece from any given roast before the other one got it. “Aha,” Lorn said, “now I understand. You got cozy with one of the spit-turners and got them to put aside the best bit for you.”
“That was my intent,” Sem said. “But I never had a chance. For along came a woman who reminded me a great deal of [Sem's wife] Litiv: dark hair and deep eyes. That lady fetched me a great piece of that crackling, and a mighty goblet of barley beer; and she kissed me kindly and told me I was welcome, and went her way. …And as she went, I was able to glimpse what lay only half-seen in the darkness of Her cloak.”
Freelorn took a long breath, let it out. “Ah.”
“So then I finally understood fully what I was being told,” Sem said.. “…That I had come to the right place, at the right time—and must now pay attention to everything I saw and heard.”
Lorn nodded, and poured Sem's cup full again.
Anyway: the pics. Roasted parsnips and turnips first. (The spoon is horn. So is the bowl. It's rare to find such a big piece of horn tableware.)
The recipe for the pork will be a week or two coming, as we need to run it once more (with more attention to the baking part of the process: we may need more garlic) and other tweaks. The veg recipe remains fine, and we'll be slotting in the new images over the next couple/few days (I like to take the time to view them on as many possible platforms/devices as possible. Is it just me, or are all Apple-based images natively redder? ..Yet the iPad's image editor seems to me to have the best and most sensitive tweaking options.) (shrug)
*[python]"It got better."[/python]
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Another new character!!
Sem is a popular model known for his trademark cuteness and sweet, bubbly energy! One day he's propositioned by a mysterious group for a large amount of money to stay in their estate for a few days just to fuck, and what they conveniently leave out is that they're part of an alien insectoid race disguised as humans to live on Earth! And they wanted Sem to breed with.
The pregnancies last a long time, upwards of multiple years, and are slow and taxing. But that gives Sem's body to acclimate to the alien bodies inside him, and he's developed a strong affection for his breeding body.
(He's also an Altaria gijinka)
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LOVE the new fic. The betrayal literally made me tear up.
I was just curious would Gojo have given up on Ms. Moon if she were married or maybe had a kid.
oh fu c k such a good idea whydidn'tithinkofthis- (this got so long i am so sorry)
in the fic, ms.moon is pretty traumatized after the gojo incident to have any real relationships after.
But maybe ms.moon gets into therapy, works through the issues of intimacy. You meet someone, nice, kind. You settle down, have a kid. It'll be nice for a few years...but when gojo comes back into your life. he'll shut it down quick.
Gojo's worse than his high school self now. He might not beat your husband up, but that might be a blessing compared to the tsunami he's about to havoc on your family. Using his connections, he'll make sure your husband never finds a job in the entire city, the entire region even. He might even dig up something your husband did in his past, a small drug problem he had with highschool-something that would get swept under the rug normally, but with Gojo's scrutiny, it's about to become a lot bigger.
You could stop it. With enough begging. After you'd cry your heart out, he'd shush you, wiping away your tears, saying that he'd forgive you for your transgressions.
You'd be expected to divorce your husband. Your husband would be pretty pissed with your flimsy reasoning of 'my childhood bully isn't done with ruining my life' but then he'd remember that there is a reason the Gojo family is so big. And they don't take kindly to competitors who stand in their way. You'd understand why he lets you walk away without a fight, but a part of you wished he would have pushed more, even if the result would have remained the same.
It's your child who suffers the worst through all of this. Maybe you had a daughter. Perhaps gojo would be a bit more tolerant towards her if she looked like you but she was clearly her father's daughter. In the past, you adored it, now it's another curse for you.
You have to keep her away, for her sake. Gojo is already more than upset that you dared to start a family without him. Besides, why would you want her with you? Why would you want her to suffer under gojo's whims?
A part of you has to admit that it's also for your sake. You don't want your daughter to see you like that. Weak, rolling under that man's thumb.
She's probably just a toddler when you have to leave. She's too young to understand when you say 'mommy's going away for a while'. Maybe you'd lie to her, say that you're going overseas and when she asks if she can come with you, you'd shake your head because talking anymore would be too much because Satoru's waiting in the sleek black car right on the curb. It doesn't matter what you say, she screams and sobs the entire time.
You don't touch your ex-husband, you don't even hug because you know Satoru's watching. You just ask him to take care of her before you walk into the car, getting into the passenger seat. Your daughter's still begging you to come back. You make sure the car is out of her sight before you start sobbing.
There's a hand on your thigh, squeezing, a mocking act of comfort. You're sure Satoru's grinning.
"Aw. Don’t cry, baby," you can barely hold yourself back from slapping him, though you doubted even pain would wipe that look off his face.
The hand drifts up your thigh, playing with the hem of your pants.
"Once we have our own kids, you’ll get way too busy to think about your old one.”
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No es una novedad que las personas usen tumblr como un diario, pero sí lo es para mí. Normalmente no soy una persona que comparta mucho de si mismo, pero quiero dejar un rastro de mí mismo, algo que pueda leer en un tiempo y recordar; pero también ser esa carta abandonada que cuenta la historia de alguien y como fue viviendo sus días. Un cuento de alguien que no conoces pero que por alguna razón seguirás leyendo, y por ahí aprendas algo de él.
Hoy desperté pensando en las redes sociales, concretamente en esta, y como antes era distinta, y como sus usuarios eran distintos, con contenido diferente. Entiendo el mercado, y entiendo las decisiones de quienes manejan esta y todas las demás redes, que sean para todo el público y no un grupo de personas particulares. Hoy desperté y vi un meme, un vídeo gracioso, una imagen graciosa, y pensé. Ya estoy cansado de entretenerme, de encarcelarme en pendejadas graciosas, en películas pochocleras y en poesía de plástico; no me mal entiendan, me entretienen esas cosas, pero siempre es lo mismo. Yo sigo siendo el mismo desde hace demasiado tiempo, y no recuerdo la última vez que aprendí algo de verdad profundo. Están bien los datos curiosos sobre el espacio, está bien tu lista de películas sobre el duelo y está perfecta tu poesía sobre como te rompieron el corazón y pudiste seguir. Pero ya.
Hoy quiero reorganizar mí vida.
Quiero hacer algo en vez de ver cómo las hacen.
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Quando você se esforça tanto e nada acontece, é frustrante.
#EsforçoEmVão#esforço#desânimo#frustração#PersistênciaSemResultado#persistência#sem#resultado#SuperaçãoDeDesafios#superação#desafios#ExpectativasNãoAtendidas#expectativas#resiliência#Autoavaliação#avaliação#fracasso#fraqueza#fraquezas#AprendizadoComFracassos#aprendizado#ManterAFé#MotivaçãoParaContinuar#continuar#motivação#ReavaliarMetas#reavaliar#vida#metas#desistir
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O “não” algumas vezes não é a condução a benção, mas a benção em si. Confie em tudo aquilo que o Senhor diz!
carol giovannini, chance com Deus.
#projetofalandonocéu#diariodeumaadoradora#deus#vida#leitura#devocional#amor#sem#fim#jesus#senhor#amém
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Best Places To Boost Your Brand Visibility
#explorefeed#differenthashtags#digitalmarketing#marketing#marketingdigital#digital#seo#smo#sem#googleads#socialmediamarketing#searchengineoptimization#socialmedia#social#revenue#boost#sales#ambiguousit#ambiguoussolutions
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We are moving our episodes on their own web page. Youtube is being strike happy and we don't want to lose the channel.
So if you want to see the new episode check it out here:
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