#but this is also at least 5 years in the future so
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Now it's likely that Dolph is only 18 at the beginning of the manga and doesn't even meet Alex till after a time skip of sorts (based on the premise , we'll probably explore his time as military captain and other relationships he has) but I'm still kinda shocked at the possibility that Alex met Dolph far younger than I first thought
My general thought process regarding Dolph’s age and his relationship with Alex went like this:
Dolph went into the military/became a cyborg around 16-18, left around 25-28 , met Alex and dated him till the betrayal happened in the show proper where (I assume) Dolph is just entering his 30s
There's nothing to disprove my theory as of writing this, but if Dolph is actually younger than what I guessed, even just by a few years?
I don't know if I'm ready for the Dolph pain train
#captain laserhawk#captain laserhawk spoilers#dolph laserhawk#alex taylor#rambles#Dolph is so baby in the previews I can't#Until the manga disproves this I imagine Dolph had been with Alex for at least 2 years (5 maximum)#Partly because he canonicaly had other toxic relationships before Alex so obviously there's gotta be room on the timeline for that#But also while I think Dolph is quick to fall for someone I don't think he'd be quick to jump on those feelings#And I imagine Alex to be patient and willing to play the waiting game#You know Alex gotta really worm his way into Dolph's head and heart#Gotta make sure Dolph really trusts him for those future rebellion plans
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
I can go on that ramble about the future and housing and aromanticism though now. It’s like man, the future is already something that is so inconceivable to me. To then have the sexuality that does not allow me to slot in the cookie cutter you find a romantic partner that you end up moving in with is terrible. And like In this economy I sure can’t live alone, and I know at least when I’m sick I desperately want someone to be there. And then there’s I’m likely to move around a bunch how do you deal with that housing, other than the work having paid housing. like constantly having to find somewhere that’s looking for roommates and it isn’t terrible? And then long term, when I find a job I stay at for a while (that’s remote so I’d love to live in a remote place) is it like I find a place to stay and then I’m stuck there forever and I just have to hope that I make good friends at this new place. (Friends that don’t want to live exclusively with a romantic partner no less.) I want to live with close friends so bad and I’m not sure if that’s a feasible thing for my future. I’m a person that has so much hope so I have to assume that yes it will work out, I do believe that. But man just hearing someone mention it, sparks that hope.
#… vaguely related other way too personal ramble#I need to try so hard to keep my friends for a long time. I want it so much#but I’ve never had close friends till now and once I went to a different period in my life the friends I had were gone#and Ive made really close friends now in college and one day I was talking with one of them on a walk home and mentioned still being friend#in 5 years. and they were like that’s not happening this friendgroup isn’t sticking together that long and they were right#at least for them specifically they were the one that came back worse and it’s a big group#there are most definitely different groups inside it and that makes me worry if once I finish college I’ll still chat with them at all#and oh hey tying this into another thought I had earlier… I’m planning on studying abroad next semester (that’s the application I’m procras#inating rn lol) and I’ll be like 8 hours in the future and I guess that’ll be the ultimate test on if I can really keep friends#a trial run before I graduate#and I won’t let this thinking of the future ruin my time now I know that doesn’t help but still.#well… actually summer sorta also is a trial run. and I still talked with them just less often and in a different way… it’s gonna be okay#this is a post i made#uh I am bad at tagging if things are vent posts or not#vent#oh I completely forgot to put the online part of the tag ramble! Ive made quite a few friends online and we talk for a while and I love the#and then it’s a every once in a while going hey I still care about you but I can’t hold a conversation for the life of me#and now there’s. you know who. who I care about so much and we say things I never imagined people saying about me#and I am so scared? (… sure) that that’s gonna go the same way. and I’m not sure reassurance on any of this will really help I think it’ll#just be I will only be less scared of the future as time passes and it’s proven to be wrong#mh hit the I want to keep this all inside and not let this out to not make other people think about it thing#… okay now I need to make a joke that is so tonal whiplash cause uhhh okay siffrin#… I need to go to sleep it’s late I’m sure that’s why all these feelings are being brought up… ’I’m fine’ as great role model siffrin says#… but it doesn’t feel real that people care about me. that I do actually have an impact. that I’m actually a note in someone’s story#I know it logically everyone I’ve ever known is part of me but it’s so hard to imagine that applies to me in others#okay I’m gonna go shower and go to sleep. I wanna say ignore this post but that’s not a good idea I don’t think#though just talking into the void does help a lot. I’m great at talking myself into believing that things are a okay if I just talk about i#… this wasn’t supposed to be a vent or be so long geez
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
another childhood bucket list item obtained: i finally have a snuggie
#and it's the real thing not even a knockoff#kinda surprised they still exist#but also not surprised bc Blanket. blanket is universal#i just remember a lot of those As Seen On Tv ads like. imploding within 5 years#they still do As Seen On Tv products like there are still boxes marked with that logo it almost feels wrong like an ancient relic#bc most like. ubiquitous 2000s brands from my childhood are just Gone or at least so fundamentally changed it's not the same thing#heard about like 50 more companies going bankrupt probably in the last year alone#anyway ive always wanted a snuggie it's one of those Always Wanted things that never go away#others include: staples easy button (obtained!); mini fridge (not); pillow pet (i had a knockoff once); power drill (not)#i spent a surprising amount of my childhood actually going out of my way to buy stuff i could use in my own apartment in the future#i grew up lower middle class and then just lower class#so like. i always Knew i couldn't just furnish the whole apartment at once i Knew I'd have to build stuff up over time#also bc when my sister got kicked out she had like. nothing. in her trailer. and i did not want to have nothing#i knew if dad was willing to just toss out my sister like that i would absolutely follow suit#and i did! two years younger than my sister when she was!#it just happened that my mom didn't want me homeless at FOURTEEN when i legally could not work for two more years#so she went with me and we lived with my grandma#so take that dad. turns out throwing family members out willy nilly makes the rest of your family not trust you or like you!#and now i get to rub it in his face that HE can't function in a house by himself and still needs to beg my mom to clean up after him#bc i spent so much of my childhood getting berated and called lazy for not doing chores#getting told stuff like 'you have to function by yourself your parents can't always pick up after you'#and then he's literally useless without his wife#he's not disabled and he's not neurodivergent he's never even had a serious health scare he just doesn't bother to learn how to clean#his excuse is that he doesn't know how to use the washer and dryer (it has been almost ten years fucker. learn)#or he doesn't know which cleaning products to use (you have google and a library card. LOOK IT UP)#he's the only person i get mad at for this behaviour bc he's a fucking hypocrite and a child abuser about it too#he is the exception to my rule of everyone needs to be given the space to get things done where they're able and deserve help when needed#and I'll bend over backwards to make excuses for other people so i DONT exclude them from my rule i will try to find every good reason first#he has no fucking excuse though he made two teenagers nearly homeless bc he thought we were too lazy and then he's even worse
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
i only know two Ni doms irl but they're both driving me crazy
#internet people be like “oh ni doms are so mystical and clairvoyant” no they're not#lemme tell you what they are they're ANXIOUS#and they're making me ANXIOUS TOO#i love you ni doms but pls stop predicting your life in 20 years you could die tomorrow#i'm sorry but it's the truth the future holds so many possibilities that can ruin your “vIsIOn”#pls use your inferior Se once pls i beg you i promise you won't die if you live in the moment for 5 minutes#“Bat you don't use Se you can't complain about them” i know but at least i can switch between my Ne and my Si sometimes#one of them (INTJ) says EVERY SINGLE DAY: “i'm gonna do this i'm gonna do that and i also have this project for next month and-”#but he never does anything which translates to “what the hell happened to his Te?”#his Ni must want to choke his Te#and then there's my mother (INFJ) who not only keeps telling everyone what she's gonna do ignoring the fact that Stuff Happens (inf Pe agai#but whenever smth bad happens she always think it's “meant to be” and “part of the process of people's soul growth”#i vent to her and she's like “this is what g0d chose to you as a mission for your soul to evolve"#no wonder jesus was an INFJ as well their Ni-Fe is so pUrPOsE oF LIfE#mom i just wanted to tell you my day sucks idc about my mission on earth i just wanted you to comfort me#i know we all should be kind and avoid being superficial but sometimes shit happens and it's not bc of our spiritual growth or whatever#sometimes life sucks and we don't learn anything with that and sometimes we have to be mean with people#bc they suck or bc they're mean to us#well aNYWAY#tio morcego tá azedo#every cognitive function is amazing on their own way but each one of them will drive you crazy#there's no better type or function: everyone will drive you crazy#today i'm pissed with ni doms tomorrow i could be pissed with se doms which are their opposite types so who knows?#you can't escape it you will want to choke people of all types#if you only hate one or a few types only you're not studying mbti right you have to be pissed off with all types#same with the opposite if you only like one or a few types you're not studying mbti right#you have to love every type with a passion that no one can explain#if you don't get why a type is so special and so annoying at the same type you're not studying mbti right#i just complained about ni doms but i could write why i also love them in two minutes after i post this#ok i'll stop now i'm rambling too much
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
My kitten baby a few summer ago, chillin on a copy of Mary Oliver’s Devotions
You and I will always be back then 💖
#okay just a warning im going to talk about sad stuff now#cw pet loss#so he passed away unexpectedly on tuesday#:(#i was crying so hard that I had to skip one of my classes#i emailed the professor for my next class basically like ‘uh hey im coming to class but i might cry’#he never responded to it which is awkward but the least of my worries#anyway I definitely saw this cat being part of my future for the next ten years of my life at least#he was the sweetest cat ive ever met#my bf and i found him one day in 2019 roaming the neighborhood. he was really skinny so we fed him.#we realized he was really friendly and affectionate so we just had to take him in#this cat helped me through the deaths of family members covid and just everything I’ve struggled with in the past 5 years#and whenever we had friends over he liked to sit in the middle of all of us. he just loved hanging out with us#also my nephew is almost 4 now and has a speech delay. he cant say many words#but he can say ‘kitty’ because of how much he loves this cat#he was my best friend and there’s never going to be another cat like him#anyway sorry my blog is slowly morphing into something much more personal than just a literature blog#but idk i think it’s important to express grief and grapple with the realities of death#and i just wanted to memorialize my little buddy
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think the hardest thing in writing for me sometimes is the like “show don’t tell/let people communicate through subtext/Normal People don’t just walk around openly explaining their motivations for everything That’s Unnatural” thing because like.. I literally DO walk around openly explaining my motivations for everything, that is how I talk, I am an analytical detail oriented over-communicator who explains everything as thoroughly as possible and and will give a fully detailed 2 minute long answer to something simple like “how are you doing today?” .. like it’s hard to make things sound Natural and Normal when you yourself are inherently unnatural and abnormal in your methods of communication to an extent lol
#''hey. whats up? you look kind of sad.. is something wrong?'' normal answer (apparently how people are supposed to talk): *looks away#remosefully and stares into the distance* ''n-no.. I'm fine. don't worry about it.'' abnormal answer (how I would respond): ''Yeah I#'m mostly fine. I was just thinking about what the future is going to be like 30 years from now and if I'll ever actually accomplish anythin#g that I want to. which makes me feel X way for XYZ reason. you see because I had a dream last night that made me think of *continues to exp#lain my exact emotional state and inner thought process completely matter of factly in exact detail for 5 more minutes*#tfw you would be a badly written character if you existed in a story lol#This is also why I struggle making conflict because most conflicts can be resolved through conversation and I personally love to have long#detailed conversations about everything. Like literally I don't have hardly any conflicts interpersonally because if something happens it's#immediately followed up with like ''hey sorry if my tone of voice sounded a bit pointed or harsh. when you were talking to me I was trying#to balance all the stuff I was taking up the stairs and also my leg hurts so I think all my mental energy was being used there and I just#didn't feel like talking. I should have just said 'wait a minute and we can discuss it inside' instead of trying to end the conversation qui#ckly in a short rude way.' ''oh yeah thats fine. I thought it was something like that. sorry for hounding you about the topic as well. i#havent eaten in a while so I think I'm just a bit prickly at the moment. we should both rest for a while and destress from the store#trip and then talk about it later. maybe after lunch?' 'sure. sounds good.' like LITERALLY. lol#it is so hard for me to write characters who are bad communicators or don't understand their own internal states or arent constantly#analyzing their own actions to understand what they do/don't feel and why and what the cause of it is and etc. etc. etc.#I just naturally want everyone to perfectly undertsand everything and communicate amazingly and have complete self awareness and#logical presence of mind gjhbj.. which like.. of course comes across as unnatyural and also those type of people rarely ever get involved in#conflict and conflict is APPARENTLY what drives stories (even though I don't like most conflicts and just want to resolve them lol) so ...aa#I mean you can get around this to some degree by the fact that (at least in my opinion) no rule for dialogue is 100%. dialogue is good if it#sounds naturally like it comes from the character who said it. It can be meandering and pointless and rambly IF that matches the character.#it can be dry and overly self aware IF your character is that way and it suits them. So like throwing in a few detached scholar types or lik#e '5000 year old cave dwelling hermit' type people is good for me and works BUT the thing is an ENTIRE cast of characters can't be that way.#at some point - even in a setting where everyone is reserved and academic (like a research camp in the wilderness full of scholars and stuff#) still SOMEBODY has to be the one who's conflict prone and doesn't pristinely understand all of their emotions and etc. etc. Because statis#tically that is still literally the majority. Kind of like my tendency to make everyone 100% aromantic and asexul when it's like.. YES.. may#be 2 or 3 or even 4 out of 10 of them could be that way. but like.. an entire group? a diverse group of 10 people from all walks of life and#EVERY single one is like that??? hgjh . you have to add realistic variety#As much as I'm pro 'have more stories where sex or romance are literally NOT involved at all in any capacity since it's already oversaturate#d in media' I'm also dedicated to realism. alas. (at least as realistic as you can get in a fantasy setting lol)
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
yeah like I might actually not be trans. It’s pretty likely I haven’t been repressing, I’ve just come to find I’m comfortable living as a woman. hey why are you bringing up the fact that I feel horrendously shitty in the specific way that, when I labeled myself as trans, I thought of as gender dysphoria every time I meet a transmasculine person in real life? I don’t think that’s relevant
#z talks#not horse game#yeah I’m definitely repressing#It’s SUCH. a recognisable feeling.#I felt it SO so so so much in my mid teen years. All the time. I am intimately familiar with it.#It’s what I felt like all the time when my mental health was at its worst#I know exactly what it feels like and I feel it the second it kicks in. and these days it also activates this deep dread in me#I made my choice and I made my peace and that choice is the life I want to live is not one where coming out is an option.#but that’s why I’m stuck isn’t it. that’s why I can never picture my future clearly#I mean let’s be honest that’s why I spent at least a year of my life in a weird halfway-dissociated haze#ok i’m gonna cry and question my life choices i think#and then go to bed because i have to wake up in 5 hours and 40 minutes
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Goodreads Choice Awards but the nominees are just the books I've personally shelved
I have a lot of thoughts about the options as they exist (mostly not that bad, except when it comes to the total elimination of children's literature, about which I am furious), but per usual I can't really articulate them in a coherent way SO I sorted my shelves by publication date, ignored the GCA requirement of a minimum 3.5 average rating, and am doing this instead.
[update: oops this did not turn out coherent either. but it got typed!]
Important Reminder: These are not all books I consider equal contenders for "best." I simply wanted to highlight every possible option I actually knew about and have read or am interested in reading.
YA
After the Sirens - Sharon Farrell
Begin Again - Emma Lord (forgot to add this one before)
The Brothers Hawthorne - Jennifer Lynn Barnes (actual nominee and I'm gonna vote for it even though it seems like it may be more of a filler book. The Davenports is the only other official nom to intrigue me, and its lower average rating + hideous cartoon cover isn't enough to flip me unread so sorry, we're going Basic Popularity Contest Pick)
Cleaning Up - Leanne Lieberman
Five Survive - Holly Jackson (definitely not a winner)
Gather - Kenneth M. Cadow (edit: National Book Award finalist?? like with the adult fiction??)
Good as Gold -- Candace Buford (definite contender for fave so far)
Holly Horror - Michelle Jabès Corpora
The Island - Natasha Preston (lol. lmao even. but ridiculous fun)
The Lake House - Sarah Beth Durst
A Long Stretch of Bad Days - Mindy McGinnis
The Renaissance of Gwen Hathaway - Ashley Schumacher (here on author loyalty only)
Three Rivers - Sarah Stusek (THAT'S RIGHT. HER.)
Summer Rental - Rektok Ross (why am I this aware of brand-new ya horror??) (because I love horror and it's usually better paced and spookier and less shock-gory than the adult brand? fair)
YA FANTASY / SCI FI
Dream to Me - Megan Paasch (I think it would go here, anyway. but maybe it's just regular YA)
The Eternal Ones - Namina Forna (I gotta remember this series exists)
FANTASY
Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faeries -- winner winner pick!! (no like officially)
Starling House - Alix E. Harrow (though this is a close second, and honestly, if they weren't both actual nominees I'd think The Unmaking of June Farrow has some potential intrigue)
ROMANCE
Hazel Fine Sings Along - Katie Wicks (no comment on its Wattpad origin. I didn't notice until just now. have not read it.)
Famous For A Living - Melissa Ferguson (popular enough for Once Upon a Book Club! but not for for an official nom, despite my hopes, in this fiercely competitive category. boooo)
Out On a Limb - Hannah Bonam-Young (damn I actually saw this one making rounds on BookTube, thought it might be here)
Something Wild & Wonderful - Anita Kelly (can't believe there's actually a queer romance I want to see show up and it doesn't)
(Bonus: legit nominees I am considering for validity include Happy Place; Yours Truly - I really need to figure out if Emily Henry and Abby Jimenez are in my wheelhouse or not - and Hello Stranger, though as much as I like Katherine Center this one does not call to me)
FICTION
This Bird Has Flown - Susanna Hoffs (might also have been under romance if picked for the actual GCA? feels more mainstream than that but idk. anyway HATERS 2 THE LEFT.)
^ also my pick for debut
The Lost Manuscript - Mollie Rushmeyer (dunno which category this would officially go in either. probably romance? maybe mystery? but it's got a lot more plot than the average romance)
HISTORICAL FICTION
The Echo of Old Books - Barbara Davis (holy crap this one's actually in the nominations?! Instant vote. Almost disappointing because there are some other candidates I would have felt fine voting for to block the worse ones, but this is the only one on my acute TBR. If I don't give at least 4 stars I will be shocked)
MYSTERY/THRILLER
Forgotten Trail - Claire Kells
The Hike - Lucy Clarke
The Only One Left - Riley Sager
Homecoming - Kate Morton (crisis alert! the latter two are both official nominees and I am equally interested in both/both have equally good track records with me) (probs. gonna vote Kate on the principle of female solidarity. even though this is really stretching the definition of "mystery")
HORROR
A Haunting on the Hill - Elizabeth Hand
(How To Sell a Haunted House is a hard maybe but also the only one I think I'd even consider trying from the official noms)
MEMOIR
Paris: The Memoir - Paris Hilton
The Woman in Me - Britney Spears
Grimoire Girl - Hilarie Burton Morgan
Tell Me Everything - Minka Kelly
If You Would Have Told Me - John Stamos
Goodbye to Clocks Ticking - Joseph Monninger (forgot I just stumbled upon this one recently! it's on my library list but not my GR account)
and one more except GCA put it in a different category hang on
Three of these - not Burton's, alas - are actually nominees. Britney is gonna win but not without a fight from me. Do I go with Paris, whose memoir impressed me even though I still don't care much for her as a person, or Minka, whose memoir I haven't read but whose reviews sound excellent and whom I like more?
HUMOR
Being Henry - Henry Winkler (there is absolutely no reason for this not to be nominated in memoir btw. I hope it wins Humor because nothing else appeals in that category and I have multiple vendettas (SAMANTHA IRBY), but it would be as misplaced a win as the Office Ladies book was last year. fully deserving of an award! actually the best of the given nominees! but also like an adult beating a bunch of children in a footrace.)
MIDDLE GRADE
(no longer a GCA category but it fudgin' should be)
Just Gus - McCall Hoyle
Falling Out of Time - Margaret Peterson Haddix (actually glad I don't have to choose between these two because like. dogs - but also boy MC - or author loyalty ft. sequel to my childhood fave??)
Rosie Frost and the Falcon Queen - Geri Halliwell The Spice Girl (no. 😔) (and yet it is still on my shelf)
I have no strong opinions for any categories I skipped.
#I am actually very familiar with a lot of options this year thanks to my new BookTube obsession but still haven't read that many#(and probably won't)#so instead I present to you: books I have actually read or at least am excited to read someday#also excited to come back in the future and see how many better options from 2023 I have since found and read#...ooh maybe that should be my next post: actual picks or top 5 contenders from 5 to 10 years ago?#also: rats. i should have done cover image collages to break up the text walls...oh well#GCA related
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
so the overall.. shape and tone of my current project is pretty much set in stone (im SO CLOSE to 50% done you guys) but i was looking through my saved videos folder on bilibili and if im gonna be doing another animatic after this one (honestly pretty likely??? given my. floruitshow obsession that doesnt seem to be going anywhere anytime soon) i REALLY want to attempt something closer to that style of animatic you see a lot on bb that employs more on elaborate editing as opposed to like............... the powerpoint presentation type beat i've got going on now
(nevermind the fact that a lot of the projects that really lodge themselves in my brain were also like collaborations between teams of people with like dedicated editor roles and i still havent fully figured out how to use lightworks. like ive also seen one man projects in this style that turn out absolutely gorgeous so i KNOW it can be done. maybe i'll go figure out if capcut is easier to use lol)
#asto speaks#re: the ProjectTM#the massive team efforts are mostly genshin animatics whaddaya know#perks of fandom big?? i guess???#that and the other noir's stultifer cantus amv i feel like i bring it up a lot but it truly genuinely haunts me#i just. love love love their art style so much and its *so* beautiful and well edited#i mean obviously im not pulling that off in the foreseeable future but#映剪/capcut is a software i saw recommended by the creator of an animatic for a rather obscure variety show i was OBSESSED with last year#saw that animatic a few days ago and it immediate lodged itself in my brain its SO GOOD. and it was a one man project!! walaoeh#op made a joke about worrying about paying for adobe after effects and realising capcut has everything they need LOL#and their project SUPER well edited and put together so idk i might check it out#im just. not fully sold on the powerpoint presentation style at least not when i do it lol#anyway if i do try something like that it'll probably be for set me free because if i *am* gonna do the robit floruitshow trinity#lets just say im gonna be procrastinating how can i make you stay for last that song is *fucking long*#its like what. 5 minutes? nabei#also i already have a few shots for set me free in mind i just need to stop... thinking about the xiao animatic for the same song lol#that project has like 8 credited artists and 6 animators comparing myself to that is just like#an exercise in pointlessly creating misery in myself
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
i feel like I’m losing my mind
#this is like not serious at all skdndkd 💀#i want to redo my room and do something different with it because it just doesn’t look how i want it to rn#the last time i like fully redid it is about 4 years ago and i went with like a minimalistic approach with a pink and grey color scheme#now#i want to do the exact opposite and do lots of colors and put a lot of art on the walls#i might change my mind again in another 4-5 years#but i just want to bring some more of my personality into the room and over the past few years i’ve thrifted a lot of knickknacks#and things that i want displayed#so not much a minimalist anymore but i usually only get things that i really really like and could see in a future home as well#anyways#so i have a Pinterest board of how i want my room to look#it’s very cottagecore imo#a quilted bed spread cute naturey paintings and decor everything in lots of colors and patterns but still somewhat cohesive#but now#i just saw a pic of a minimalist room on insta that was very cute and now idk what i want anymore 😭💀#like it’s hard becuase once you have like a colorful bed spread or just a colorful base to your room#it’s hard to add other things becuase they have to somewhat natch#**match#at least for me they do#like i can’t do a bunch of nature paintings and then also a dark academia theme with coffee stained book pages ya know??#ugh#very much a first world problem but yeah#i just have too many aesthetics that i like#and only one room to fill all of them with as of now#cant wait to get my own house someday#probably won’t be for another 5 years or more so for now i’m stuck where i’m at
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have obtained a new oc and in the process I've already signed myself up for needing to make at least 3 new ocs for his story which he now has despite me initially Intending for him to be a side character for a different side character to hang out with. My townhouse has over 200 characters on it.
#rat rambles#oc posting#he doesn't have an official name yet but he is my silly billy and I love him#also take every him with an asterisk again he's like super new (I just got him today)#although several elements of his story so far have been things Ive been wanting to do for a while so thats a part of why I have so many#ideas for him already since its some stuff I've been wanting to play around with for a while#the real reason he has a chokehold on me rn is that I tripped and made him my 500 thousanth character with identity issues#I <3 characters with a fucked up relationship with their sense of self and what it even means to be themself#oh hes also a magic cat world character because thats what like 90% of my ocs are from at this point lol#and another goop related guy but this time not directly related to every other goop guy#he doesnt interact with any of them or even know most of them exist#long story short hes a robot who used to not be a robot but remembers nothing abt his life before he turned himself into a robot#all he has as reference is a mostly ruined journal his past self kept that is almost entirely unreadable due to it getting soaked in goop#he knows that this was self inflicted and his approximate age but that's abt it in terms of useful information#early story is mostly just him traveling alone trying to see if anyone nearby knows who he is but after going through like 5 or so towns he#starts to get more worried and upset about the whole situation and starts trying to look into some different missing person reports in#hopes that he can find one of himself#he runs out of the savings he had on him pretty quickly though so he had to figure out how to stay afloat while doing his research#'luckily' he meets a man while looking into one case he found who was willing to let him stick around at his place while looking into it#this guy had some investment in these dissapearances because he suspected that they related to his father and hoped to find any sort of#window in what he was up to since he hadnt seen him since he ran away at around 17#spoilers his dad is cake this is still connected to cake nonsense because everything in this world fucking does but the main boy himself#actually has no ties to cake or his activities so thats smth at least#but yeah long story short things get. real bad for my boy after the first few months of staying at this guy's place.#yknow how risa in the future was often used as a weapon of war using some unstable chemicals? yeah guess where that started.#mr daddy issue haver over here may understand that his dad is a bad person but evidently that doesnt stop him from being not much better#currently Im planning on having main boy escape eventually and get stuck in the non magic world where he meets april but that could change#it depends on if I want him to interact with the other stories going on at all or not#I probably wont but I would like to leave myself some wiggle room to let him meet more side characters#like (looks with big sad wet eyes) ginger maybe? please? please april? let me see your sister? that you havent seen in years? please?
0 notes
Text
Guys what will I do when I have to work 7-4 every day and have debilitating cramps a quarter of the time and have 0 energy 100% of the time… place ur bets now how long I will last
#i think I will give up around Christmas#reminder I also have an eye condition that can make me temporarily blind at any moment. just what employers are looking for 😍#rambles#at least that’s still money in the bag… not a lot of money but better than nothing…#the future is so fucking bleak I hate it here. Oxford was supposed to be the best years of my life & I have had abt 5 days when I was happy#my options for the future are 1. Dphil = 4 years without my partner 2. moving with my partner = no job 3. civil union with my partner= scar#y
1 note
·
View note
Text
We're so fucking back guys
#ramblings of a lunatic#back to usijg this app as my diary bc writing in my actual diary is hard and I don't do it. also i keep losing my pens :(#anyway i was having a category 5 moment about how I'm a bad person friend artist etc w/ no talent who'll leave no mark on the earth#anyway then i picked up a guitar and found a new chord progression and i think i fixed my brain#at least for the foreseeable future#I'd still love to skip class tomorrow in order to finish my essay but i think I've just decided to compromise#I'm gonna go to class. but my ass will not be taking notes#if they're gonna space all my assignments within a week of each other and not get back to me about my extension requests#then i am <3 simply not gonna do all the other stuff they want me to do <3 I've tried for years but i really am not a multitasking boy <3#anyway. not doing so hot these past few weeks due to school and the state of things#and I don't have a lot of solutions for the everything rn#but y'know. I'm seeing a movie this week. and I'm gonna have an arcade battle as well. and I'm gonna do my best to enjoy those things#sometimes i forget the deep effects of my catholic education. The Guilt. and whatnot
1 note
·
View note
Text
Comment Bingo: Old Fic Edition
Very simple rules: connect 5 squares in a line by commenting on fics that suit the task in each square
Very simple goals: encourage readers to comment on older fics; encourage fandom writers to KEEP WRITING
STEPS:
Download Bingo Card HERE (png) or HERE (jpg) or HERE (pdf)
Complete the tasks on the card, marking off each as you go, until you've completed 5 in a line (vertical, horizontal, or diagonal; NO double-dipping; center ♥️ is a free space)
POST your winning card (or list your filled squares) and tag @feedthefandomfest! Glory in your victory.
SEARCH TIPS:
This card requires some familiarity with AO3's search filters. Once you've narrowed your results according to fandom/ship/additional tags, certain squares require you to sort the results by Date Updated, which is the default. Other squares require you to search for fics posted within a certain range of years, which you can do by scrolling on the search menu to More Options:
Note that to enter a date range, you must format the date as shown.
REWARD:
✨ victory badges ✨
New badge for this card, but here are examples from previous cards:
Tag me when you earn a bingo (or double, triple, quadruple... FULL CARD bingo) and I'll reblog a shiny badge with your name on it to commemorate the win.
FAQ:
Can I comment on tumblr or only on AO3?
Either one is great! This card especially is more designed with AO3 in mind, but some can be adjusted to suit tumblr as well, so I say go for it. Tumblr fics deserve love, too.
Can one comment count toward multiple squares if the fic fits more than one category?
Since the goal is for as many fics to receive comments as possible, try to comment on a different fic for each square.
Is there a time limit?
Nope! Take your time or set your own deadline, whatever works for you. This blog is still in its early experimental stage, so feedback welcome. Play around and let me know what you like and what might be added/changed—including ideas for squares on future cards!
Do I have to record progress on the actual card?
Nope! If it’s easier to keep track in a different way, that’s fine. This is all very honor system, so if you say you earned a Bingo, we’ll call it a win 🎉
Some people have been tracking not just completed tasks, but the fics they read along the way, so that when they post a bingo, they can also promote the fics/authors in a little rec list. Not required, but definitely cool to see!
Can I adjust the task in a particular square to suit my comfort level?
Of course! If you deliver something in the spirit of the task, then it’s all good. Use your best judgement in constructing a comment that will make the author smile, and you can consider it a job well done.
In general, so long as each square has produced at least one comment, you’re golden and I salute you 🫡
Happy commenting!!
#comment bingo#old fic edition#feed the fandom fest#this one is for the ambitious#more of a scavenger hunt than other cards#please note that you can narrow your search field however you wish before sorting according the task in the square!#i've added searching/filtering tips under the cut
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them…
Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.
. . .
After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.
You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part.
So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least.
But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.
Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown.
It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.
And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.
“God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more.
“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.
“Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire.
“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.
“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him.
“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.
MASTERLIST
. . .
I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—
#captain syverson#captain syverson fluff#captain syverson smut#captain syverson fanfiction#captain syverson fic#captain syverson x reader#captain syverson x ofc#captain syverson x you#captain sy x reader#sand castle#henry cavill characters#henry cavill superman#superman smut#clark kent smut#napoleon solo#august walker smut#geralt of rivia#walter marshall smut#henry cavill#henry cavill smut#henry cavill fluff#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fic#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x female reader#henry cavill x ofc#henry cavill x y/n#henry cavil x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
chapter 5: the fall a bridgerton!au
pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ gojo comes up with a strange yet tempting arrangement, but the accident that follows it may cause epiphanies for the both of you. (11.8k)
a/n thank you to pookies @/sinn-clair and @/yasu-1234 (they are awesome and here are her works) for beta reading my work :3 ahaha pls forgive me for yapping so much in this chapter. i’ll meet you after the chapter is over for EVEN more yap
prev. the game | next. the house party
general masterlist | series masterlist
Dearest Gentle Readers,
It is well known across town that a certain gentleman, long absent from London’s bustling thoroughfares, has not graced its streets for a year. One cannot help but ponder how Mister Sukuna Itadori’s travels have fared, as he embarked on what we all know to be that of most enlightening of ventures–a Grand Tour of Europe. Those familiar with such journeys will know that for most young men of the ton, a tour of Europe offers more than just art and culture—it is a playground of indulgence and mischief. Will Mr. Itadori reappear as the brash and impetuous young man we once knew, or has Europe’s charms softened and tempered his spirit into one more befitting of a mature gentleman? This Author has her doubts, but one can never say for sure until a man reenters Society.
Yet, Gentle Reader, while Mr. Itadori’s return may provide fodder for speculation, there is another gentleman who has quietly yet decisively captured the attentions of the ton this season: His Grace, the Duke Nanami. Not only does His Grace possess a title and considerable inheritance—both of which set many hearts aflutter—but he is also known to be a most genteel and dignified young man, whose decorum and good sense have only enhanced his reputation. Many an eager mama and her hopeful daughter now look to him as the ideal suitor. His Grace, however, has been nothing if not a model of decorum—distant, polite, and entirely too elusive.
But therein, dear reader, lies the dilemma. The Duke’s refusal to engage in more than the most cursory conversation with any lady has led many to wonder: has he already chosen his future Duchess in secret, or is he simply too discerning for any of the eager young women who have presented themselves thus far? One thing is certain, though: the house party in the countryside promises to be most entertaining, especially if the Duke chooses that moment to make his intentions clear. One can only hope the object of his affections is prepared to be swept off her feet—or at the very least, that her mama is! Only time will tell, but one thing this Author assures—his next move shall be watched with the greatest anticipation.
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
Dawn breaks out, bathing the land in a rich, golden hue. It seemed as if the very air of the Gojo estate had significantly altered your sense of slumber; before, it would take you fairly long to wake, preferring to stay well rested until Nobara barged in your room, bellowing at you to get ready.
The rhythmic clatter of hooves on the cobblestone path echoed as you guided your mare along the estate’s carefully tended gardens, resplendent in their display of colorful blooms. The thought flashes across your mind—whichever lady of the ton unfortunate enough to inherit the Gojo surname would certainly find herself living an enviable, lavish lifestyle. If nothing else, the manor, with its outstanding grandeur, would offer sufficient distraction from the trials of an insufferable marriage.
Horse-riding had always been of your taste, providing solace when you needed time to ponder upon your thoughts. The fresh morning air was so different from the stifling confines of your room’s walls, soothing your spirit in a way a fitful sleep could not. Inhaling deeply, the cool morning breeze carried with it the scent of flowers and morning dew, offering a reprieve and reminding you of freedom found in quiet moments.
Mornings always feel like new beginnings to you. The sounds of the chirp and the peace of the feeling that you are currently the only person in the world, suspended in time, soothes you. You walk the path laid out in front of you, getting closer and closer to the woods that were next to the Gojo gardens.
The same ones you had the encounter with Gojo in the river.
You tensed slightly, the memory of your embarrassing fall washing over you like a cold splash of water. Gojo had yet to jest at your expense over it was nothing short of miraculous. No doubt, the teasing would come in time, as inevitable as night following day.
The distant sounds of hooves break you out of your thoughts, as you still, turning your head around to see where the sounds originated. When you finally manage to curve your head (almost) fully to the back, in the soft light of the morning, you see a flash of silver hair.
And groan internally.
"I would not have thought the great Lord Gojo so lacking in charm as to resort to covert stalking," you quip, turning in your saddle to face him.
"Stalking?" His familiar, lazy drawl carried across the air as he approached. "Surely you underestimate me, my lady. A mere smile is all it takes to win hearts."
Reluctantly, you wheeled your horse around to face him properly. "Ah, yes. How could I forget? Your captivating smile alone is surely enough to send every lady into a faint, and not at all the rather handsome fortune attached to your name." You eyed him critically—his attire was casual, much like that day in the library: a white shirt carelessly unbuttoned at the collar, black trousers tailored perfectly. There was a hint of weariness in his eyes, though his insufferable smirk remained firmly in place. His hair was fairly polished–in comparison to his clothes–as if he had gotten ready to go somewhere that didn’t require extravagant garments to be worn.
He tilted his head, his gaze moving past you as he urged his horse toward the woods ahead. "Ah, so you find my smile captivating?"
You bristle, realizing his play of making you follow him to continue the conversation and get the last word. “I find your opinion of yourself entirely too high. I never mentioned that I thought you captivating but that of the handsome sum tied to your name.”
“All I heard was handsome.”
You take a deep breath and hold it, your eyes narrowing at the man trotting carefree in front of you. “Are the ladies really so naive that they would fall for just a captivating smile rather than acknowledge your lack of wit?”
Gojo glanced back at you with a raised brow, his grin only widening as he slowed his pace slightly. "Naive, perhaps. Or maybe they’re wise enough to appreciate the finer things in life. Not everyone is so immune to charm.”
You rolled your eyes, clicking your tongue in mild irritation as you spurred your horse forward, coming level with him. “Charm without substance only lasts so long, my lord. I daresay one day you’ll meet someone immune to your tricks.”
He chuckled softly, the sound lazy and unbothered, as though you’d merely entertained him with a light jest. "And yet here you are, still engaging with my so-called ‘lack of substance.’ Could it be, perhaps, that you find me more interesting than you care to admit?”
"I find you no more interesting than a mildly amusing book—one that I can close whenever I please," you shot back, though your eyes flicked over his disheveled appearance. “But you, Lord Gojo, do seem rather underdressed for a morning ride. I hope you’re not planning on inflicting yourself on some unsuspecting lady like this.”
His eyes gleamed with that familiar glint of amusement. "Underdressed? Why, I thought you might prefer me this way—unpretentious and free of the heavy trappings of society." He gave a careless wave toward his shirt. "Besides, I’ve work to do today. I’m making rounds over the dukedom."
You raised an eyebrow. “Work? You?” you echoed, voice laden with playful disbelief.
“Hard to believe, I know. I’m more than just a pretty face, as you’ve so kindly pointed out,” he teased, eyes flicking to you briefly before turning back to the path ahead. “Would you care to join me on my rounds? You might learn something about the ‘substance’ you claim I lack.”
You hesitated, but only briefly. The truth was, the Gojo manor had begun to feel more like a cage with each passing day. The endless routine of polite conversations, tea under the watchful eyes of your mama and Duchess Gojo, and waiting for the upcoming house party with the maids and doormen watching for your every move was beginning to wear on you. The walls of the estate, grand as they were, could only offer so much distraction before they imposed on you. The gardens—beautiful and sprawling—had already been walked, the library somewhat explored. You had gone through the motions of being the perfect guest, yet none of it stirred the thrill of adventure that your heart craved.
Your mind drifted back to London, to a time before all the expectation and decorum had weighed so heavily on your shoulders. A year ago, Sukuna had been your partner in rebellion, the one who shared your disdain for society’s rigid rules. The two of you had stolen mornings together, sneaking out on horseback, galloping through the streets and parks as if the ton’s eyes couldn’t reach you. Sukuna, with his wild streak and brash charm, had always encouraged you to live for the moment, to taste freedom in a way that felt dangerously exhilarating. At night, you and him would enjoy stolen moments on a swing.
There had been no chaperones then, no one to watch your every move or to remind you of what was ‘proper.’ You had been free, in a way you never thought possible—a freedom that felt distant now, almost like a dream.
You studied him for a moment, curiosity beginning to outweigh the slight irritation you felt toward his smug demeanor. What exactly did a duke like Gojo do when he wasn’t parading through society, charming every lady within reach? Despite yourself, you were intrigued by the possibility of seeing him in a different light, away from the polished halls and pretenses.
Here, far from the city’s strict social rules, you felt a flicker of that same wildness returning. There were no watchful eyes in the countryside, no endless stream of whispers and gossip to navigate. The Gojo estate, for all its grandeur, was isolated. Out here, you could indulge in a fleeting taste of freedom once more—especially if it meant escaping the suffocating sense of propriety that came with every room of the mansion.
With Gojo, the stakes were different. He wasn’t Sukuna, who lived on the fringes of the ton with his devil-may-care attitude. No, Gojo occupied the very heart of society’s structure—a duke, a man of immense power and wealth, a figure who could easily sweep up any lady of the ton with a glance. Yet here he was, offering you a glimpse of his world beyond the ballroom, beyond the pretense of polite society.
The thought of accompanying him into the village—unaccompanied, and without the constant pressure of reputation—was thrilling in a way you hadn’t expected. It was as if you were being offered another chance to experience the freedom you once shared with Sukuna. Out here, away from the prying eyes of the ton, you could simply… be. There would be no eyes to judge, no chaperones to pull you away. For a few hours, you could escape the suffocating decorum that bound you so tightly, and just breathe.
And perhaps, just perhaps, there was a part of you curious to see what lay beneath Gojo’s surface. Despite all his teasing and arrogance, there had to be more to the man than his carefully cultivated charm. What did the world of a duke truly entail? What responsibilities lay hidden beneath that confident smirk?
“Well?” Gojo’s voice broke through your thoughts, a hint of amusement dancing on the edge of his words. “You could always go back to the estate. But if you join me, you might learn something. Something real.”
You met his gaze, curiosity stirring. How much freedom could you taste before the world pulled you back into its orbit?
“And what, pray tell, does this so-called ‘work’ of yours truly entail, my lord? Are you certain it isn’t merely an excuse for you to idly saunter about?” you asked, feigning disinterest even as your heart began to quicken at the thought of leaving the mansion’s confines.
Gojo shrugged. “Managing a dukedom is more than just attending parties, my lady. There are land disputes, tenant needs, crops to inspect. All terribly boring, I assure you,” he drawled, though his teasing tone did little to hide his satisfaction.
“And yet, here you are, inviting me to partake in such ‘dreadful’ tasks.” You arched an eyebrow, testing the waters of this strange proposal.
He cast you a sidelong glance, that insufferable smirk playing on his lips again. “You seemed in need of something less tedious than idle conversation. Besides, I can’t let you think I’m all charm and no substance.”
You scoffed lightly, but the temptation was undeniable. A morning spent away from the watchful eyes of society, away from the restrictions that had grown more suffocating with each passing day, sounded like exactly what you needed.
And so, you nudged your horse forward. "Very well, my lord. Lead the way."
As Gojo turned his horse toward the village, you followed, anticipation swirling within you. For just a little while, you would forget the rigid expectations that clung to your every move. And who knew? You might learn something about the man who was far more than just a smile—or at least, you hoped so.
As you and Gojo rode along the countryside road, the gentle thrum of horse hooves against the dirt path filled the early morning air. The village lay just beyond the hill, but the tranquil quiet of the ride had settled between you for now. You looked at the open landscape, enjoying the rare opportunity to simply exist outside the bounds of society's expectations. While Gojo glanced at you, his gaze briefly lingering before he forced his eyes forward again.
To Gojo, you are an enigma.
There was something about you that drew him in—something beyond the usual appeal of a pretty face and a sharp tongue. He had been thinking and rethinking your diary entries ever since he had discovered them, going over every word in his mind like an irritating riddle. Of course, he knew better than to admit that he had read them, let alone how much those words had unsettled him.
Your thoughts, penned in those private moments, had been both surprising and dangerously radical. They spoke of dissatisfaction with the very society that had molded both of you. Critiques of the ton, its shallow expectations, and even its treatment of women—thoughts that, if discovered by the wrong person, could ruin you. Lady Whistledown wouldn’t need much to twist those words into a scandal, to paint you as a rebel, a woman too difficult for any suitor to consider. You would be exiled from the marriage market in an instant, no longer the diamond the people adored.
Realistically, he could do it, in fact. That is, ruin your image for the rest of high society. Gojo knew he had power over you. He could destroy you if he wanted to, could slip a few words into the right ears and watch as your pristine image crumbled like delicate glass. A small, vindictive part of him—perhaps the part that still bristled at your quick wit and frequent jabs—almost considered it. With the way you have been snarkily snapping back, making a fool out of him, and in general being not a very agreeable person, he, in fact, should have incentive to do so, as a payback.
Of course, Gojo could always be the bigger person. He should let you go, keep his distance, and find a more agreeable match—someone easier, someone less troublesome. It would be the rational thing to do. He was Lord Gojo, heir to the Duke of Gojo, after all. He didn’t need to deal with a woman who questioned him at every turn, who might even challenge his reputation just by association.
He knew he should stop courting you, stop this dance before it spiraled into something neither of you could control. And he didn’t know what exactly to choose.
He cleared his throat, finally breaking the silence. “You seem deep in thought, my lady. I do hope I’m not boring you already.” His tone was light, though there was an undercurrent of curiosity.
You quirked an eyebrow, as if debating whether to entertain his question. “No more than usual, my lord.”
He grinned at your response, but then his expression softened, just slightly. “And here I thought you might have enjoyed escaping the estate for a bit. Surely the quiet countryside must be a relief after the pressures of town.”
You gave a small nod, but your guardedness remained. “It is a relief, but one must still be careful, even out here. There are no watchful eyes, but gossip has a way of traveling regardless.”
Gojo smirked, leaning slightly in his saddle. “I doubt anyone could catch up to us before we make it back for breakfast.”
He watched you from the corner of his eye, gauging your reaction. The morning wasn’t extremely windy, but his eyes took in your hair, how the wind shifted it so that your nape—and the slopes of your back and body—was uncovered. Your torso rocked as both your horses moved on, and you were fidgeting with the reins of your horse with gloved hands. You were a puzzle he couldn’t yet solve, but for some reason, that only made him more determined to try.
With a measured tone, he added, “Tell me, do you ever tire of it all? The expectations, the constant scrutiny. It must be exhausting.”
He watched you closely, curious how you might respond, wondering if you would offer something more than your usual sharp wit. Even if you didn’t, Gojo was prepared to nudge you, just enough to see what truly lay beneath the surface.
You turned your head slightly, brushing a loose strand of hair from your neck as you gave him a searching look. Unconsciously, your horses had drifted closer together, and as you moved your hair, revealing your simple, unadorned hairstyle from the morning ride, Gojo caught the intoxicating scent of your shampoo.
Sandalwood.
The notes lingered in the cool morning air, drawing him in. He found himself momentarily captivated, closing his eyes to take in the fragrance. It wasn’t until he regained his composure that he realized you were watching him expectantly, waiting for him to respond.
“My apologies,” Gojo cleared his throat, flashing you a semi-apologetic smile. “You were saying?”
You arched a brow at his absent-mindedness but chose not to press the matter. “As I was saying,” you continued with a subtle edge of humor, “it is a lady’s duty to endure the endless gossip and scrutiny of society. After all, we are part of it, are we not? I am a part of that society—diamond or not.” Then, you snarkily remarked, “Though I imagine you know as much about gossip as I do, my lord.”
There it is. Gojo felt the familiar flare of irritation rise within him as you brought up, yet again, that night on the terrace. How many times would you throw that back in his face? Instead of showing how it bothered him, he slipped into a mocking stance, clutching his chest in an exaggerated display of faux hurt. "You wound me, my lady. Can a gentleman truly not express his true sentiments in private company?"
His smirk faltered slightly, but he pressed on, unwilling to let you have the upper hand. "However, I do know more than you think. I hear things all the time. Not everyone is as... mysterious as they pretend to be."
There was an edge in his voice that hadn’t been there before, and he knew you noticed. He didn’t like where this conversation was heading, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not now.
You narrowed your eyes, your tone sharp. "Is that so? Or are you simply adept at making people feel small, my lord?"
Gojo shrugged, keeping his expression casual, though his jaw tightened. Why did you always know exactly how to get under his skin? "I do not belittle, my lady, but observe. And if you're concerned with my words, rest assured I never speak ill of a lady unless she has thoroughly earned it. After all, gossip, for all its flaws, often carries a kernel of truth."
"I see," you replied, voice clipped. "So you place your trust in whatever the ton whispers, so long as it serves your purposes?"
Gojo met your gaze, his voice lowering with intent. "It is not a matter of convenience, my lady, but discernment. Knowing who is genuine and who is merely playing a part."
He saw the way his words hit you, the way your expression flickered. Good. Let it sink in. You’d been sniping at him for days now, and it was about time you felt a little of the sting you so effortlessly delivered.
"And you, Lord Gojo, are the arbiter of what's 'real'?" Your voice rose, sharp as a blade. "Tell me, then—what’s real about you, besides your title and your incessant need to make others feel beneath you?"
The smirk that usually danced on his lips vanished. He felt something sharp coil in his chest—defensiveness, maybe, or frustration. He wasn’t sure anymore. His tone turned cold, dangerous. "Tread carefully, my lady. You are not as untouchable as you might believe. Perhaps others coddle you, treat you with delicacy because they think you fragile, but I am not of their number."
He saw the way his words cut, deeper than he’d intended, and a part of him regretted it. But another part—the part that was tired of always being one step behind in this game you played—felt a grim satisfaction.
You opened your mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to an almost dangerous softness. “You think you are the only one who carries burdens? I have duties too—my name, my estate, my people. You may despise me for all you like, but at least I do not pretend that none of it matters."
The silence that followed was thick, heavy with the weight of the truths neither of you had spoken before. For a moment, you were speechless, and Gojo couldn’t quite read the expression on your face.
There was a vulnerability in your eyes, something real beneath all the snark and bitterness. It was unsettling. He hadn’t expected to feel any sympathy for you, but seeing that flicker of something raw, something that mirrored the exhaustion he himself felt, made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t like.
You finally broke the silence, your voice quieter now. "I never asked for any of this."
Gojo let out a long breath, some of the tension in his body loosening. His voice softened, the sharp edge gone. "Nor did I."
The moment of mutual understanding was fleeting, fragile, and Gojo wasn’t sure if he wanted to dwell on it or forget it entirely. The silence that followed wasn’t quite hostile anymore, but it wasn’t comfortable either.
Straightening in his saddle, Gojo cleared his throat and gestured ahead. "The village lies just ahead. We should proceed before the shops open, unless, of course, you would rather remain here, basking in your righteous discontent."
He smirked, but it felt more like a mask than anything genuine. He needed the banter, the distance it created between you. It was safer than whatever had just passed between you—a moment of weakness he couldn’t afford to dwell on.
You rolled your eyes but gave a small nod, your expression still guarded. "Lead the way, my lord."
Gojo nudged his horse forward, the tension easing just enough for the both of you to fall back into their usual roles. But the memory of that brief, unguarded moment between you lingered in the back of his mind, nagging at him as they rode towards the marketplace.
Soon enough, the dirt road gradually transformed into cobblestones beneath the horses' hooves, the soft clatter of stone replacing the muffled sound of earth. Up ahead, the village began to unfurl itself, a bustling marketplace coming into view, vibrant with the daily hum of activity. Stalls lined the streets, laden with goods—fresh produce, meats, textiles, and trinkets. The air was thick with the mingling scents of fresh bread, roasting chestnuts, and the subtle hint of herbs from the nearby apothecary. Your stomach twisted sharply at the realization that you had yet to break your fast, and the sweet aroma of bread, freshly baked and still warm from the ovens, stirred your hunger even more.
It was a small comfort that you had chosen to appear on Gojo’s rounds in a simple dress. While far from a maid’s garb, it was enough to blend in with the modest attire of the villagers, allowing you to remain somewhat inconspicuous. You imagined what a spectacle it might have been if you had arrived adorned in the usual finery expected of a lady of your status—a diamond strolling through the marketplace like some exotic bird, plumed and out of place. Even if that interpretation wouldn’t be completely wrong.
You stole a glance at Gojo. His attire, though far more refined than that of the villagers, was practical enough for the countryside—a waistcoat and riding cloak that spoke of wealth but not ostentation. He moved with ease through the marketplace, his presence commanding attention without demanding it. Residents and shopkeepers greeted him warmly, others calling out his name with familiarity. It was clear that he was well-known and, more surprisingly, well-liked among the people here.
You, on the other hand, felt like an outsider—acutely aware of every gaze that lingered a moment too long in your direction. Although the villagers were preoccupied with their own business, there was no mistaking the subtle glances thrown your way as you rode alongside Gojo. Perhaps it was the curiosity of seeing a noblewoman in such a humble place, or perhaps it was simply the oddity of your pairing with him.
“Ah, Satoru!” A baker called out from a window in his store, a wide grin on his flour-dusted face. “Come for your usual loaf, I presume?”
Gojo chuckled softly, bringing his horse to a gentle halt. With practiced ease, he dismounted, his movements graceful and assured as he swung his leg over and landed lightly on his heels. The smoothness of the motion caught you off guard—it was almost unsettling how effortlessly he moved, as if every action was calculated yet unforced. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of irritation, knowing full well that you would never manage such a feat with half as much elegance, even with assistance.
He strode toward the baker with the kind of natural ease that spoke of familiarity and comfort, offering the man a warm, familiar smile as they exchanged pleasantries. There was a certain charm in his manner, a fluidity in the way he blended himself into the simple rhythm of village life, so unlike the polished and sometimes disingenuous world of high society. You found yourself watching their conversation, noting how easily he made himself a part of this world—something that unsettled you more than you cared to admit.
You brought your horse to a stop beside his, watching as Gojo clasped the baker’s hand in greeting. “Not today, I’m afraid,” Gojo remarked with a light laugh, his tone amiable, yet restrained, “though the aroma is tempting enough to make one reconsider their resolve.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though the tempting aroma of freshly baked bread was almost enough to make you forget your irritation. You remained silent, feeling somewhat out of place amid Gojo’s easy banter with the villagers. There was something about the way he interacted with them—so at ease, so familiar—that unsettled you. The way the baker addressed him by his given name, Satoru, only added to your bewilderment, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much of this was genuine and how much was part of the façade he wielded so effortlessly in society.
“And who might this lovely young lady be?” The baker’s voice drew you from your thoughts. Both men were now looking at you, you the center of attention as the baker looked between you and Gojo expectantly.
Gojo had his arm resting casually on the baker’s shoulder, his usual smirk slipping for a brief moment as he scratched at the back of his head—a gesture that seemed oddly boyish for someone of his station. It was so unlike him that you blinked in surprise. “Ah, this is—”
“Satoru!” Before he could finish, a sharp voice rang out. The next moment, Gojo winced as an older woman smacked him on the back of the head, leaving him clutching it in exaggerated pain. “You’ve found yourself a wife and didn’t think to inform me?”
Gojo turned with a dramatic groan. “No, Mrs. Tanaka, she is not my wife. Must you always strike me so?”
The woman—short in stature but brimming with fiery energy—had her arms crossed, looking up at him with a mixture of affection and reprimand. “And what reason would I have not to, given how you leave everyone guessing?”
Her gaze then shifted to you, her stern expression softening instantly as she hurried over. Taking your hands in hers, she smiled brightly. “Ah, so this is the young lady who’s finally tamed our Satoru.”
You looked between Mrs. Tanaka and Gojo, bewildered, searching for any explanation or protest that might spare you from the implication. But Gojo merely shrugged, an amused—though slightly embarrassed—expression on his face.
Before you could respond, Mrs. Tanaka waved off any attempt at explanation, placing a finger to her lips as though she already knew the truth. “Say no more, my dear. A fine match, indeed.” She then turned to her husband, giving him a pointed look. “Dear, didn’t you say you had some business with Lord Satoru today? Why not invite them into the bakery?”
At the mention of business, Gojo’s expression shifted, and it was almost unnerving how quickly his lighthearted, carefree demeanor gave way to a more serious and focused air. He turned to the baker, his brow slightly furrowed. “Mr. Tanaka, is there another issue with the ledgers? I had thought that those troubles had long since ceased.”
The baker scratched his head sheepishly. “Well, my lord, there have been further claims—false ones, no doubt—regarding the ledgers, particularly in reference to the debt I incurred when I purchased the bakery. I did not wish to trouble you, especially as,” he cast a quick glance at you and nudged Gojo with a knowing grin, “you have a fine lady with you today. But your assistance in resolving the matter would be most appreciated, my lord.”
Gojo’s expression darkened slightly, his jaw tightening as the gravity of the situation became apparent. “Of course, Mr. Tanaka. We shall address it at once. Let us discuss the matter inside.”
Mrs. Tanaka, turning to you with a motherly smile, cooed, “Why don’t you come inside as well, my dear? You look positively famished! Let me prepare something for you.”
As the men disappeared into the back of the bakery to attend to their business, Gojo offering you a brief glance as he followed (as well as an exchange with the baker to have your horses carried to a stable in the village), you were left to follow Mrs. Tanaka’s lead. She guided you to a chair with a gentle, yet insistent, manner, ushering you to sit as though you were a guest of the highest importance. Though her attentiveness was kind, you couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place.
Sitting down, you couldn’t shake the thought—why were you being treated with such familiarity? Yes, Mrs. Tanaka assumed you to be Gojo’s wife, but was the lord you knew, so self-assured and pretentious within society, truly capable of leaving such an impression on these villagers? The notion seemed almost laughable.
You concluded that Gojo must have performed some extraordinary deed—something grand yet deceptively simple, like saving their child from rolling down a hill. A gesture that, while not heroic by any noble standard, had been enough to secure the couple’s undying gratitude. Of course, you mused with a bitter edge, only Gojo could manipulate such a mundane act into a permanent place in their hearts. The thought soured your mood further. It was just like him to charm even the most unsuspecting, innocent villagers into adoring him, using that devilish smile and unearned charisma to weave them into his—--
You were jolted out of your spiraling thoughts, your internal conspiracy theories evaporating at the first whiff of fresh bread. The warm, buttery aroma wafted throughout the room as Mrs. Tanaka made her way towards you, carrying a tray of fresh loaves that looked as good as they smelled–moist and buttery. The sight of the golden-brown crusts made your stomach clench painfully in hunger, reminding you that you had yet to break your fast because of your rendezvous with Gojo.
Mrs. Tanaka set the basket down before you, settling herself across the table, leaning back in her chair with a look of comfortable familiarity as her eyes studied you with quiet observation. Sensing your hesitation, she waved a hand, smiling warmly. “Go on, my dear, help yourself. You’ve yet to break your fast, and it’s no good going hungry.”
With a silent nod of gratitude, you took the invitation, though some part of you briefly wondered what your mother would say if she were to catch you eating so eagerly. But knowing she was nowhere near to scold you for indulgence, you wasted no time. The moment the warm, fresh bread touched your lips, you had to suppress the urge to devour it outright. Though you tried to remain composed, you could not help the small, contented sigh that escaped as the heavenly taste spread across your tongue.
Mrs. Tanaka watched you with delight, the sparkle in her eye showing how your evident enjoyment amused her. You chewed as gracefully as possible, closing your eyes in brief bliss, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Once you had swallowed and could speak without impropriety, you offered her a sincere, “I am deeply grateful to you for your kindness. This bread is truly unlike any I have tasted before.”
The woman waved off your praise with a hearty laugh. “Oh, my dear, you flatter me too much. Have some more! Your words are as sweet as your disposition.”
A flush crept up your neck at her compliment, and for a moment, you were flustered. Despite being praised endlessly by members of the ton for your beauty and title, there was something undeniably genuine in Mrs. Tanaka’s words—an absence of ulterior motives or expectations. She did not seek anything from you: no favor, no power, no advantageous marriage proposal. Her compliment felt simple, warm, and real.
Mrs. Tanaka continued to smile warmly, her gaze soft as she leaned in a little closer, clearly intrigued by the presence of a lady beside Lord Gojo. She took a sip of tea, her fingers tapping lightly against the table as she asked, “So, my dear, where did you meet our Satoru? He’s never brought a lady to our village before.”
The question caught you off guard. You paused for a moment, careful not to reveal too much or seem overly invested in his affairs. “We met in... social circles,” you answered simply, averting your gaze slightly, trying to keep your tone neutral. There was no need to elaborate or dwell on how precisely your paths had crossed—certainly not to Mrs. Tanaka, no matter how kind she seemed.
But Mrs. Tanaka was undeterred by your hesitance, her eyes lighting up with fondness as she spoke again. “Ah, yes, I suppose that would be the case. Though I’ve known him far longer than most in those circles.” She chuckled, a motherly gleam in her eye. “I’ve been with him since birth, you know. I was his nurse—watched him grow from a babe to the man you see now. Heaven knows it wasn’t easy.”
You glanced up, startled at the intimacy of her revelation. The thought of this woman, now sitting across from you, having been a part of his life since his earliest days struck you in a way you hadn’t expected. Gojo had always seemed like an enigma—a man of privilege and power, impossible to know beyond his title and public persona. But here, in the humble setting of this village, Mrs. Tanaka spoke of him as if he were not some distant lord, but a boy she had raised, a person with a story you had never even considered.
“He was the most energetic child,” Mrs. Tanaka continued, her voice fond and nostalgic. “Always getting into mischief, running circles around everyone. He had so much spirit, but oh, the responsibilities placed on those little shoulders were heavy from the start. Even when he was just a boy, his father had him learning the estate's business, sorting through documents before he could properly read some of them. I remember once—he couldn’t have been more than ten years old—his father handed him a stack of contracts to review. The poor lad spent hours poring over them, brow furrowed like a little man.”
You listened intently, the bread in your hand momentarily forgotten. It was strange, hearing Gojo being spoken of this way—no longer just a lord or rival, but a child burdened by duty far too early.
The woman continued, “I remember thinking how much that experience must’ve aged him. He always carried that burden with such grace, but you could see it—it weighed on him.”
A strange turmoil began to stir in your chest. You had only ever known Gojo as the man he presented to society—arrogant, infuriatingly self-assured, with a grin that could cut like a knife. But now, you were being offered a glimpse of someone else entirely: a boy who had been shaped by forces beyond his control.
Mrs. Tanaka’s voice softened, her gaze faraway as she reminisced. “It was not easy for him, growing up with so much expected of him. He would act out sometimes, just to remind everyone that he was still a boy—still someone who needed room to breathe. But even so, he never shied away from what was asked of him. He understood his duty, perhaps too well.”
“I see.” You swallowed, a strange sensation creeping up your spine.
“He’s a good man, Satoru,” Mrs. Tanaka said softly. “He’s had to grow up faster than most, and he’s been shaped by that weight. But I hope you can see that there’s more to him than what’s on the surface.”
You offered her a polite smile, but inside, your thoughts were a storm of conflicting emotions. Gojo, a man burdened by duty? The notion seemed almost laughable... and yet, there was a part of you that couldn’t dismiss it so easily.
Your gaze then wandered to the man of the topic itself. The baker and him were poring and scanning endlessly over sheets of paper, an uptick in his jaw visible as his eyes remained concentrated, oblivious to your observation from across the bakery. His hand raked over his hair, the muscles in his forearm clenching and unclenching due to the action, as he discussed something with the baker. Whatever matter they were discussing, it was clear it a serious matter, for you could hear the gears whirring through his mind through the calculative look on his face.
The scene felt oddly intimate—watching him in such a serious, unguarded moment. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced by something sharp, calculating, as if the gears of his mind were turning at full speed. He pointed at something on the paper, his brow furrowing, and exchanged a few terse words with the baker. From the look on their faces, the issue seemed grave, but Gojo handled it with a calm decisiveness that surprised you.
Finally, after several moments of quiet but intense discussion, there was a visible shift. The baker nodded, sighing in relief, and Gojo’s posture relaxed, the tension in his frame unwinding. He stood a little taller, rolling his shoulders as though shedding the weight of responsibility that had pressed down on him so heavily just moments before. He glanced at the baker with a reassuring smile, offering a firm pat on the man’s back. It seemed the matter had been resolved.
As Gojo turned his head, his eyes caught yours from across the bakery. Your heart leapt unexpectedly, and you quickly averted your gaze, heat creeping up your neck as you pretended to be fascinated by the contents of the breadbasket in front of you. Despite yourself, a faint flustered feeling bloomed in your chest, and you couldn’t shake the sense of being caught staring.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Gojo making his way toward you, his steps slow but deliberate. You could feel the gentle thud of his boots against the wooden floor, the sound growing louder with each stride. Your back straightened instinctively, your gaze fixed firmly on Mrs. Tanaka, trying to distract yourself from the awareness that Gojo was now directly behind you.
Then, a hand placed on the back of your chair as Gojo effectively leaned over you, peering down to look down at you and Mrs. Tanaka. “Ah, I see you’ve been well entertained,” he drawled, a teasing lilt to it, though quieter and more casual than before.
You manage a polite smile to Mrs. Tanaka despite the teasing intent behind Satoru’s words. "Mrs. Tanaka has been a most gracious host," you replied, avoiding meeting his eyes directly, though you could feel his presence and the heat of his hand behind you, on the back of your chair.
“Well, the business is settled for now,” Gojo turned slightly so that he was addressing Mrs. Tanaka as well. "I’m glad we could clear it up."
Mrs. Tanaka nodded, her expression pleased. "That’s good to hear. I don’t know what we’d do without you, Satoru. You always manage to set things right."
Gojo shrugged modestly, though the smirk playing on his lips told you he was aware of his importance in the village. "I do what I can," he said with an exaggerated sigh, though the humor in his tone softened the boast.
You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at his self-satisfaction, but Mrs. Tanaka was having none of it, laughing and swatting at his arm. "Enough of that, lad. You’ll give yourself a swollen head.”
Gojo laughed heartily at that, the sound easy and infectious. For a moment, it was almost disarming how comfortable he seemed in this setting, a far cry from the lord who prowled through the ton with that arrogant air of superiority. The contrast gnawed at you, but you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on Mrs. Tanaka, who now wore an expression of mild concern.
Curiosity piqued, you glanced over to Gojo, only to find a matching look of confusion on his face, his eyebrows slightly raised as he too turned to the woman.
Mrs. Tanaka’s frown deepened as she folded her arms, the lines of worry clear upon her face. “Satoru,” she began, her tone earnest, “is your wife pregnant yet?”
The question landed between you like a stone dropped in still water.
Gojo sputtered, his usual composure vanishing in an instant, and you—taken aback—choked on nothing but air, coughing violently as the shock of the statement hit you squarely.
"P-Pardon?" Gojo stammered, eyes wide, and for once, his usual glib charm utterly failed him.
You managed to recover just enough to speak, though your voice came out hoarse and incredulous. “I—I beg your pardon, ma’am?”
The tension in the room skyrocketed as Mrs. Tanaka blinked innocently between the two of you, utterly oblivious to the awkwardness spreading like wildfire. "Well, it’s just—he’s always been so strong and healthy. I thought, surely by now…"
You quickly attempted to intervene, “No, I assure you—”
But before you could get a full sentence out, Mrs. Tanaka turned to Satoru, her gaze suddenly serious as she leveled him with an intent stare. “You’re doing your task correctly, I presume? You have to apply a bit of force, or you're not performing the act quite right.”
She then turned her concerned frown toward you. “Is he not doing his job properly? You do feel pleasure, don’t you, my dear?”
You blinked, utterly baffled, and turned to Gojo, seeking some kind of explanation. But to no avail—he was conspicuously avoiding your gaze, a rare flush creeping up his neck. The sight of him, normally so self-assured, now visibly flustered, did nothing to quell your rising confusion. “Pleasure?” you echoed, unsure of what she was referring to.
“Satoru!” Mrs. Tanaka scolded, her tone growing more exasperated. “You must conduct the marital act properly!”
Gojo finally intervened, cutting Mrs. Tanaka off with a polite but decisive, "Thank you, Mrs. Tanaka. We shall consider your counsel. I have many errands to get to, so we must take our leave now." His voice was calm, though firm, signaling that the conversation had reached its conclusion. Offering her a swift bow, he gestured for you to follow, and you did so with a quiet, grateful nod.
Once outside, the air between you both felt lighter, though a strange silence still lingered. Both of you took to the streets again—Gojo didn’t seem to make motions towards the bakery’s stable to grab your horses, so you assumed the medium of travel was to be foot for the rest of his errands.
However, after a few steps, curiosity gnawed at you, and you could no longer hold back your question.
"What, exactly, is the marital act?"
Gojo stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a look of utter bewilderment amidst the bustle of the market traveling around you both. "You cannot be serious."
You met his gaze earnestly. "I am entirely serious. My mama hasn't…enlightened me, simply skirting around the topic. I was wondering if you could, given that it has arisen in our conversation."
He blinked, seemingly at a loss for words, before letting out a startled laugh. "It is... how children are conceived."
"Oh," you responded, thinking on it for a moment. "So... one must marry, then?"
Gojo stared at you, incredulity plain on his face. "What?"
"You sign the contract," you explained, as though clarifying something obvious, "and then you lay in bed and embrace, do you not?"
Gojo’s mouth fell open for a moment before he threw his head back with a short, disbelieving laugh. "Just embrace?"
You nodded, though your cheeks had begun to burn under his astonished gaze and you averted your gaze to look at the shiny, red apples a vendor was presenting. "Yes, merely embrace."
Shaking his head, Gojo let out another incredulous chuckle. "And you believe children are delivered by storks as well, I suppose?"
You crossed your arms, feeling your face grow hotter. "I most certainly do not. I was present when my mother gave birth to Yuji, and I heard every scream, thank you very much."
Gojo ran a hand over his face, stifling his amusement as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Clearly there is more to it than simply embracing. It is... a rather more intimate affair."
"More intimate? You mean like wrestling?"
At this, Gojo choked on his laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. "No, not wrestling. It’s... well, I hardly know how to explain it delicately. But it is how one begets children."
You frowned, now growing frustrated with his vagueness. "You speak in riddles. If I am mistaken, then kindly explain what the act entails!"
Gojo sighed deeply, clearly struggling between frustration and amusement. "The marital act is not simply laying beside one another—it involves a... a physical connection, far beyond mere affection. It is, indeed, how children come to be."
You blinked, still not fully understanding, though you refused to let it show. "You could simply say so, instead of dancing around the matter."
Gojo’s lips twitched into a grin. "Ah, but where would be the fun in that?"
"Fun?" you repeated, exasperated. "This is a matter of knowledge!"
"Indeed, a matter of knowledge I did not expect to be imparting today," Gojo said with a wry shake of his head. "Suffice it to say, it is more than an embrace, and when the time comes, you shall learn well enough."
You glared at him, cheeks still warm with embarrassment. "I shall inquire elsewhere, then."
“I would advise you not to,” Gojo remarked wryly, tilting his head to indicate that both of you move, which you surmise is a wise move given that a heavy and big cart was moving towards the general direction of the both of you, and your feet followed him through the market. Roving his eyes over the general treats and food available, you see–from beside him–that his eyes fixate on some sweet smelling pastries on a cart. Not taking his eyes off of them, he adds, “It’s quite a sensitive topic among the ton. I suspect your mama would faint if she heard you were out and about inquiring the true nature of the marital act.”
“I can…consult texts,” you say, offhandedly, but you are equally as enraptured towards the sweets stall you both are walking towards.
“Mmh,” Gojo hums, “You could, I’m sure. However, you might encounter more…scientific things, rather than the personal.”
You shrugged, eyes locked in on the pasty bursting with apples. “Makes no distinction to me.”
In your…focus on the pastry, you failed to hear the upcoming hooves against the street, steadily getting louder and louder towards you. Just as you were reaching the pastry stall, the thunderous clatter of hooves on cobblestones cut through the air, snapping you from your reverie. A carriage barreled down the narrow lane, far too close for comfort and ready to crush you.
Before you could react, Gojo’s hand shot out, firm and unyielding, pulling you back toward him with a swift motion. He held you against his side, shielding you from the oncoming threat, his grip steady and protective. The world seemed to spin for a moment, your senses heightened by the closeness, the warmth of his touch, and the rapid beat of your own heart.
"Must I be responsible for keeping you from walking into trouble?" he murmured, his voice tinged with both relief and a hint of exasperation. You could feel his grip on your arm and waist as he breathed heavily, the sheer strength he possessed making you shocked, even dizzy. The carriage rumbled past, stirring up a cloud of dust, and you were left standing so near to him that you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath.
You opened your mouth to stammer some excuse, your cheeks hot with embarrassment, but his expression had already softened into that infuriatingly familiar smirk, and he let go of the contact he had on you. "I shall have to keep a closer watch over you, lest pastries and carriages both be your undoing," he teased lightly.
You huffed, stepping back from his person with as much dignity as you could muster. "I was merely... distracted by the sweets, as were you," you replied, sounding petulant even to your own ears.
"Ah, yes, distracted to the point of self-endangerment. Truly, the pastries of this market wield extraordinary power over you."
"I am hardly so careless. It was a mere lapse of focus." Your lips twitched, fighting the smile threatening to surface despite your annoyance.
"If you say so," he drawled, his tone full of mock skepticism. Then, with a more serious note, he added, "Perhaps it would be wise to focus on the task at hand, rather than leaving your life in the hands of apple tarts."
You flushed slightly, more from his sheer perceptiveness than the scolding itself, and cast your eyes away, suddenly unsure of what to say. It was so much simpler when he was mocking you, but this unexpected gentleness was a new kind of challenge altogether.
"Come then," he said, his voice returning to its light, teasing timbre. "Let us continue our quest for knowledge—or, at the very least, for pastries that won't lead to your untimely end."
Moving towards the stall, the smell of various fruits baked into sweets with delicious sauces sprinkled on top. The treats were clearly crafted with care, the kind of sincerity and dedication that no gilded manor kitchen could quite capture. The young couple behind the stall radiated a warmth and pride that spoke of a passion for their craft, one that valued love of the work over the cost of the ingredients.
Gojo, ever at ease among the townsfolk, exchanged pleasantries with the couple, his attention split between their conversation and the tempting selection of tarts. He spoke with the man about some local issue, but you found your focus entirely absorbed by the golden-crusted apple pie that seemed to call to you.
“Would you like to try these?” You looked up to see the presumed wife of the man, smiling at you and eyes twinkling with genuine hospitality.
Returning her smile with a polite nod, you said, "There is no need, truly. How much do you ask for one of these?" You thanked God for remembering to carry your small coin purse—a habit drilled into you by Sukuna’s lessons on self-sufficiency, even if Judgement day came in, you always carried money on your person so long as you were not within your family’s vicinity.
The lady named her price, and you promptly began to search for the correct coins in your purse. Just as your fingers brushed against the cool metal, a gloved hand caught your wrist, halting your movement.
"You must be the only lady in all of Christendom who insists on paying for her own tarts whilst her husband stands idly by," came Gojo’s teasing voice. You didn’t need to look up to know that his familiar smirk was firmly in place, brimming with that infuriating mirth that seemed to accompany his every word.
Without relinquishing his gentle hold on your wrist, he smoothly handed over the coins to the stall owner, then deftly picked up a golden apple tart. His eyes gleamed with something unreadable as he offered the pastry to you, the corners of his mouth twitching as if daring you to protest.
But you didn’t give him what he wanted; rather, you took it without protest—not without rolling your eyes—and looked it over appreciatively.
Gojo bent over to lean his face close into yours, ever so playing the part of a husband wanting to spoil his wife. “Happy?”
You gave him a hum, sticking your tongue out and then taking a bite of the pastry in front of you.
Gojo's smirk widened, clearly amused by your reaction, his blue eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and satisfaction. He watched you intently, as though gauging your every move, delighting in this little game of his. You knew he expected some sharp retort or flustered reaction, but you were determined not to give him the satisfaction.
Instead, you took a slow, deliberate bite of the tart, savoring its warmth and sweetness. The flaky crust gave way to the soft, spiced apple filling that practically melted on your tongue. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, relishing the taste, and let out a contented sigh. "It is quite satisfactory," you said, allowing a small smile to play on your lips as you met his gaze.
"Well, I should hope so," Gojo said with a chuckle, still playing the role of the devoted husband. "One does go to great lengths to ensure one's wife is suitably indulged."
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, but there was no denying the way the scene had amused you, despite your best efforts to remain unflappable. “You enjoy this, don’t you?” you remarked dryly.
"More than you can imagine," he replied, his tone light and teasing. "Seeing you this flustered and yet so determined not to show it? Absolutely delightful."
You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn't quite suppress the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "You are insufferable."
"And yet," he said, leaning in ever so slightly, a touch of softness behind the humor in his voice, "you tolerate me still."
You huffed. "Only because you happen to be useful at times, particularly for giving me the opportunity to escape the confines of your godforsaken manor."
He laughed, a genuine sound that echoed above the bustle of the market. "Oh, I'll take that as the highest compliment, coming from you."
"Enjoy it while you can, Gojo. It may be the last time I am so generous."
"Noted," he said with a grin, giving you a playful wink. "I'll savor it as much as you did that tart."
"You know," you began, musing, "our mamas have truly squandered their efforts. We would never have made a compatible match."
Both of you rode side by side on horseback, the forest trail stretching out before you as you made your way back to the manor. The journey was not far now—the stone turrets of the Gojo estate were already visible in the distance. The both of you hadn’t had much time to do much other than two encounters you had, deciding to make your return before your rendezvous got behindhand. You turned your head slightly to study Gojo's reaction, expecting to find that familiar, self-assured smirk he always wore. But instead, his expression was... different. A touch more solemn, perhaps even conflicted.
At last, he spoke, his voice softer than usual. "And what, pray tell, do you consider a suitable match?"
You let his question hang in the air for a moment, taking in the rustling leaves and the steady rhythm of your horses' hooves against the well-trodden path. It was just the two of you here in the quiet of the forest, far from the prying eyes of society. There was a certain unspoken understanding between you—a truce of sorts—yet also a acknowledgement that either of you could easily betray this moment's candor.
So, ultimately, you chose honesty. Partial honesty.
With a quiet sigh, you chose your words carefully. "I think," you hesitated, your gaze caught by Gojo's steady, penetrating eyes, "I should prefer a life of tranquility once I am wed. Someone gentle, who would respect my desire to occupy myself as I please, who would allow me a measure of privacy." You quickly added, as to not seem too radical, "I mean to say, someone who would not object if I wished to practice my piano in solitude or to pursue a quiet hobby. Surely you understand, my lord, the burden of constantly being in the public eye."
Instead of seeming understanding, Gojo’s gaze on you was…pensive. Your heart sped up as the solace you needed from Gojo after being a bit vulnerable didn’t appear, leaving your mind running as to what he was thinking.The sunlight filtered through the trees, catching in his white hair, giving him an almost ethereal appearance as the two of you rode on in silence.
Then, the clouds covered the sun up, giving his figure a glum, ruminative cast.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, and his voice seemed to carry a note of something deeper, something unspoken. As if he was aware of something you weren’t. “What I do understand that is that you are being deceitful. Both your future husband and to yourself.”
His words hung in the air between you, more like a question than a statement, challenging in a way that left you unprepared. The forest around you seemed to hold its breath, the rustling leaves and birdsong fading into the background as his gaze locked onto yours, probing, almost too perceptive. It was the windiness indicative of rainfall, with the thunder of clouds above you to provide testament to the change in weather.
You straightened in your saddle, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "I fail to see what you mean," you replied, a touch defensive, though you kept your tone level. "What else should one seek from a marriage if not harmony and respect?"
"You speak of privacy and quiet, of being left to your own devices. But tell me," he said, his voice barely above a murmur, "would that truly satisfy you? To be married to a man who treats you as if you were a painting—beautiful, yes, but best admired from a distance, untouched and unengaged?"
You opened your mouth to respond but found no words. There was a part of you, a stubborn part, that wanted to argue—to tell him he was wrong, that a peaceful life was exactly what you desired.
"I... simply wish to avoid the chaos that comes with too much entanglement," you said finally, more quietly. "I’ve seen what happens when people become too wrapped up in one another. It's a vulnerability I do not wish to expose myself to."
"Ah, I see," he said, nodding slowly yet mockingly as if he was piecing together a puzzle, making you bristle involuntarily. "So, you’d rather not risk the mess of it all—the unpredictability, the chance of losing control. You want safety."
You narrowed your eyes at him, both irritated and unnerved by his perceptiveness. "Is that so wrong?" you challenged. "To desire a life where I can control my own happiness, rather than leave it in the hands of another?"
He matched your tone and fervor. “Is that truly what you believe a marriage is for?”
You sneered. “And don’t you want an accountant for a wife, my lord? It is quite laughable for you to be advising me on the beauty of marriage.”
Enraptured in the heat of the moment, you hadn’t realized that you were nearly at the stables where you had to station your horses until Satoru grabbed his reins—-hands idle before, directing his horse in no particular direction—to now steer his into the stall next to the ones you directed yours.
“My stance on marriage and my character bear no relevance to this matter,” he replied, a rueful smile tugging at his lips as he tethered his horse. His tone was controlled, though a trace of irritation bled through. “Whatever my faults, they do not make your notions any more rational.”
“But you forget that it illuminates who you are,” you hissed, walking towards the exit of the barn, tired of the smell of manure and Gojo, unsure which was more repugnant. “A hypocrite. A whited sepulchre, if you will.”
Gojo barks out a laugh from behind you, following closely behind on your heels. “Any supposed sanctimonious nature of mine does not alter the fact that you are steering yourself into a life of misery. Not just you, but any poor fool incapable of seeing through your polished smiles to your true intentions.”
On a given day, had you not been so incensed or had your opponent been anyone other than Lord Gojo, you might have heeded the thunderous roar of the rain on the stable’s roof or the slick ground outside that awaited you. And on a given day, you wouldn’t have stepped so fast, as if daring the friction of the ground and force of gravity to make you fall flat on your face.
But, alas, it was not that said given day and your ankle made a sickening crunch! against the ground as you fell, your head and body hitting the wet grass. You felt the world tilt unnaturally as you hit the ground, the impact jarring through your body, sending a shockwave of pain radiating from your ankle to the back of your skull. A dull throb began to pulse at your temples, and the rain poured down, blurring your vision into a haze of grays and greens.
Through the blend of sensations, you heard a sharp intake of breath, and then there were hurried footsteps approaching. Somewhere above the din of the storm, a voice called your name, its usual calm fraying at the edges with alarm.
“Miss Itadori!” WIth that you jumped, eyes finally registering a Gojo clenching your wrists tight. “Can you understand what I am saying?”
Your gaze drifted over his face, focusing on the small details—his rain-slicked hair, the concern that flickered behind his eyes, the humorless smile that strained at his lips. Slowly, you managed a nod, though even that small movement made your head swim. “Yes,” you whispered.
Then, you became acutely aware of a warm, crimson fluid pooling around you, contrasting sharply with the rain-soaked earth. You began to feel faint, though not from the severity of the injury itself, but rather from the unfamiliar sight of so much blood. It was unnerving, especially for someone who had never experienced a wound of this nature. The lightheadedness must have been responsible for your sudden admission, “I am frightened.”
Lord Gojo’s eyes, which had moments ago glinted with amusement at your pitiful state, softened ever so slightly. His smirk remained in place, yet you noticed the way his fingers twitched restlessly at his side, betraying the composure he desperately clung to. “My lady, it’s merely a gash. You are not in danger of perishing,” he said, his tone light, almost too light, like a mask hiding something unspoken. “However, it seems I’ll have to carry you to a physician, lest you collapse entirely.”
He stood up from where he had been inspecting your ankle, bending slightly before you with his arms extended. But there was a slight hesitation in his movement, a momentary pause before his hands reached for you, as if he were weighing the consequences, considering the impropriety of the action.
Your eyes widened in alarm at the very idea of being carried by him. “Carry me? What--AHHH!” A sharp scream left your lips as Lord Gojo, without warning, scooped you into his arms. In the blink of an eye, you found yourself in a bridal carry, your gown catching the rain as he strode out of the greenhouse. He moved with a purposeful stride, though his grip on you was perhaps a fraction tighter than necessary, his jaw clenched just a bit too firmly.
You pounded your fists ineffectively against his chest, cheeks burning with indignation. “Gojo, let me down!”
He, of course, ignored your demands entirely, his voice annoyingly gentle as he cooed, “Now, now, it’s for your own good. You’re in no condition to walk, and I can hardly risk your injury worsening.” But despite his calm words, his eyes flickered nervously to your face and then away, almost as though he was afraid of what he might see in your expression if he looked too long.
“What if someone sees us?” you hissed, your mind racing at the impropriety of the situation. The two of you, unchaperoned, in such an undignified position—it would provide gossip for Whistledown and the ton for weeks.
Gojo’s smirk returned, though there was a tightness around his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I am wearing gloves, my lady. Fear not, I am not making contact with your bare skin.” His attempt at humor felt forced, his voice lacking its usual ease, and when he added, “Though I daresay, it would not be such an unpleasant thought,” the playfulness seemed almost like a deflection.
You narrowed your eyes, trying to distract yourself from the warmth of his arms. “Why do you always wear those?”
“Writing ledgers and doing a lot of work with pens make my fingers blister. It’s quite unsightly, so I prefer to wear them,” he said, his voice steady, though the hand supporting your back trembled almost imperceptibly.
You hummed, settling a little more comfortably in his hold. "You know, you’re quite strong to be able to carry me like this. What manual labor are your parents making you do to get the title of duke?”
“Well,” Gojo began, but his voice sounded tighter now, the rumble of it vibrating through his chest where your head was so near. The proximity seemed to unsettle him in a way his words could not hide; he cleared his throat as if to steady himself, but his breathing was just a touch uneven. My vindication for such close contact will be the blood loss, you thought, as you nestled your head closer to his chest, until your nose was almost grazing his neck. The scent of tobacco and vanilla filled your senses, lulling you closer to the pulse that beat a bit too fast beneath his skin. “I enjoy doing archery. I’ve been doing it ever since I was a child, which happens to strengthen your shoulders.”
You thought back to the night you were strolling in the garden the day of your debut, musing on the size of his shoulders, and mumbled, “Mmmm, I was right.”
Gojo stiffened almost imperceptibly, his gaze flickering down to you in a way that was almost too quick, too searching. His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but he hesitated. "Right about what?" he asked finally, his tone a bit too casual, as though trying to mask the turmoil behind his nonchalance.
“Nothing,” you murmured, closing your eyes and leaning your head against his shoulder. You felt his gaze linger on you, as though he were trying to decipher a puzzle that was just beyond his reach, before he let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. And as he carried you onward, the rhythm of his heartbeat felt almost in sync with the rain, though you both pretended not to notice how fast it was racing.
As you leaned against him, the warmth of his presence enveloped you, a soothing balm against the chaos swirling in your mind. But the world began to tilt, colors blurring at the edges, and the sounds of the forest faded into a distant hum.
“Gojo…” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, a final plea for clarity before darkness crept in.
The last thing you registered was his grip tightening around you, a hint of alarm breaking through his facade. “Stay with me,” you heard, though his voice felt miles away, echoing in the void as consciousness slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.
Then, the world faded entirely, leaving only the warmth of his arms and the distant sound of his voice.
prev. the game | next. the house party
general masterlist | series masterlist
a/n AHHH HI BRIDGERTON!GOJO READERS I MISSED U!!! im very sorry for the delay that happened with this chapter but for me it's so hard to write...development and angst and fluff becasue when you write it's so hard to know when any of your writing hits :(
but re-reading ur comments reblogs and asks inspire me a lot to continue so we all good :3 i think what happened was that i kind of went thru a crisis where i thought my writing wasn't good at all because of certain things i saw in other authors', i.e. writing longfics that have 10k+ words that led me to believe i wasn't writing enough, that my plotline was progressing too fast, etc. i might have long chapters going on, i might not because i realize how stupid that belief was lol. anyways moving forward i dont think we will see that type of delay because i have the best readers hehe <3 love you all and im kind of giggling in anticipation to all your funny comments because they make my day
ANYWAYS like always reblogs and comments are appreciated <333
meme time
gojo getting to business w the baker (credits to @/sinn-clair LOL)
TAGLIST:
@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati
@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs
@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs
@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun
@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1
@hyori2 @babyblue0t7 @iwanttoberich420 @rosso-seta @ladytamayolover
@kalulakunundrum @r0ckst4rjk @mo0sin @angelina7890 @jaeminaur
@yamiyas @cherry-blossoms-in-red @r3inae @lagataprrr @sasfransisco
@fortunatelyfurrygiver @aurora-tiny @gojonegs @luna-v-roiya @xxemmarldxx
@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2
#aashi writes#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru#gojo rec#gojo fluff#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru x reader#jjk#jjk x you#gojo fanfic#gojo ff#jjk ff#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo#divider by cafekitsune#jjk series#gojo series#gojo satoru series#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru fluff
1K notes
·
View notes