#i hope you continue your progress and things get easier for you!
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confessyourship · 2 months ago
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I am slowly working on feeling less guilty over my OTP. There's a small age gap of 6 years, but one is a Minor and the other an Adult. Like drinking age and just getting a drivers permit ages. I've felt guilty about it for over 10 years now. I would put all saved fanart in several folders to not be found easily, I would hide my phone screen when I used it as my background, and I would avoid talking about it and talk about other ships with the same two characters much more frequently.
I even ran a seperate Tumblr blog and made a persona up behind it. When people started to think that blog and mine were the same, I would use a VPN and log in at a different time and send myself asks to that blog to try and shake that suspicion. My friends were sharing some tame-ish anti rhetoric around that time, and I didn't want to be seen as a "pedophile". Especially when I was falling into that rhetoric myself about bigger age-gap ships.
It's only recently I've been working on embracing it. I've been posting more about this ship, hiding it a little less, and I even made an itabag insert themed around it. It's still scary, and I still feel nervous bringing it up. I wear the bag with pride but at the same time, I'm terrified of people attacking me over it. I'll act fine when my wife brings it up but I stil quickly change the subject. It's a slow process and I've made a lot of steps back. I still find myself hiding my laptop and phone wallpapers from my wife.
I know it's nothing to be ashamed of. They're just anime characters. They're not real and it doesn't make me a bad person. But I have made some progress in overcoming this. I hope that one day, I can finally stop being ashamed and guilty over this pairing.
I'm sorry this got so rambling and long.
🩷
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prettieinpink · 2 months ago
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MY FAVOURITE PRODUCTIVITY HACKS, SYSTEMS & TOOLS
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Disclaimer: I have no idea if these are actual practices with real names. Some hacks I knew of before and learnt, and some I’ve developed myself. 
SANDWICH METHOD. For me, It’s difficult to get into the flow of doing a difficult task. Instead of facing the task head-on, I start with something that's productive but doesn’t take too much mental or physical energy. For example, If I want to study, but I’m not in flow, I’ll just start by doing some Duolingo or Elevate, which prompts me enough to get started. Then after the difficult task, so that I don’t interrupt that productive flow, I’ll do another easy task like tidying up my room. 
5 MINUTES ONLY. If I’m desperate to not do a task at all, like I’m on my period, sick, or overall in a bad mood, I’ll tell myself, just five minutes of doing said task. 90% of the time I keep on going to complete that task. However, in that 10% when I don’t continue, at least I had 5 minutes of progress for that day, so it's not wasted at all. Plus, typically when I don’t follow through after the 5 minutes, it’s a sign that my body or mind is just not up to it today and forcing it will strain me. 
BIG THREE SYSTEM. If you usually have a long to-do list for the day, I recommend this system. In the big three system, you only have 3 tasks to do each day. These tasks are both urgent and important. If they are one or the other, or neither, I would cross it off and try to narrow it down to three each day. 
Having just three each day is less overwhelming, it’s easier to remember throughout the day which tasks you have to complete. 
MAJOR & MINOR SYSTEM. If you’re someone who just can’t narrow it down to just three, then this system might work better for you. So, each day you have 1-3 major tasks, and 1-3 minor tasks. Major tasks are both urgent and important, while minor tasks can be either or the other (but not neither). 
It helps to relieve the pressure of having big tasks only for the day ahead, as you have some tasks that are smaller and easier, hence minor. 
WANTS AND NEEDS. I haven’t used this system intensively yet, but I would use it if I were getting out of a rut or a slump. Make a list of 1-3 things that you need to do. I would make these tasks a bit more on the simpler side if I were using this system, but that’s just my preference. Then make a list of 1-3 things that you want to do.
Then once you’ve completed at least 1 task, you get to do something that you want for that day. I wouldn’t use this as a permanent system, but it's up to you. 
BRAINDUMPING. I don’t braindump at a specific time of the day, what I do instead is write whenever. I always have my phone close by or Macbook, so in my notion, I’ll write in my braindump section quickly and then put it away. 
You could carry a notepad, or write it down in your journal at the end of the day but I recommend recording ideas or thoughts instead of letting them float away. 
That’s it for the day! Hope you stay hydrated and safe, especially during the holidays.
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cumikering · 5 days ago
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Gym bro Soap x reader 3 (end)
3.7k | fluff You never had to ask again (part 1)
It was close to three months before you saw each other again.
Johnny was on the incline bench with his weights when you called his name. He froze. Nobody needed to know that soft voice still made him weak.
“H- Hi.” He turned to you, placing his dumbbells on the ground before searching your eyes. “I hope you’ve been alright.”
It felt forever ago, since the last time he saw your smile or heard you laugh at his lame jokes, since the last time you made tea at his. It had been forever since you wounded his heart.
“I have. I hope you are too.” Your gaze dropped to your feet.
“Aye. I’m fantastic, of course.”
“Right. Um- well, I didn’t mean to disturb.” You took a step back. “Sorry, I’ll leave you to it.”
You walked away before he could protest. He took a beat before picking his weights back up, surprised by the wave of emotions that rushed back from the innocent exchange.
He wasn’t facing the door so you could have walked out if you wanted to avoid him, but you went out of your way to greet him. Were you trying to be friendly? Why was it only a hello before you rushed away? Did you change your mind?
It was stupid, but he would be lying if he said he’d stopped thinking about you, let alone missing you. He wondered about how you were doing, about work and your fitness progress. How had you been shopping without him driving you? It was too far of a walk to carry your groceries.
But you must have already found someone. Any man would want you, and would claim you as his you as soon as he could – the way Johnny never had the balls to. He should have spat out the flickering hope out of his mouth and extinguish it under his heavy boot, so why was he walking over to you on the elliptical after he finished his set?
“I was wondering if ye’d like to get dinner? Just to catch up a bit?”
You should tell him he was insane, and break his heart once and for all. Maybe then he could finally let go.
But you smiled so gratefully at him instead. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
Did he hear you right? He wasn’t helping himself, but he was a hurting man with a hole in the shape of you in his chest.
You spotted each other. It unwedged something from his chest, like a dead clock finally moving its rusted hands once more. Working out alone could never compare, and the satisfied smile on your face after each set still made him swell with pride.
Half an hour after the session, Johnny knocked on your door before strolling to the nearby kebab shop. He willed himself to not get ahead of himself, for his heart to stop fluttering as he pondered what the dinner meant – the dinner that hadn’t happened yet.
“Have you got a deployment coming up?” You glanced at him.
“Not yet. I just came back last week, was away fer almost a month.”
“And you’re alright? Not hurt?”
“Bruises here an’ there, but nothing time can’t fix.” He clasped a hand over his chest.
“You got a new haircut,” you noted, nodding at his hair.
“Och, aye.” He ruffled his short hair with a chuckle. “I… I needed the change. Somethin’ easier t’maintain.”
He used to enjoy standing out with his mohawk, but if you weren’t looking, it didn’t matter. He only wanted your attention.
“The beard too?”
He’d forgotten he’d let his stubble grow out. Was it ugly?
He rubbed a self-conscious hand down the side of his face. “Just tryin’ things out. Not sure I’ll keep it.”
“You look different, but I like it.”
He averted his gaze from your reassuring smile and continued his steps.
He let you split the bill that night, already thankful you said yes to dinner. At the table in the far corner, you popped open your meal.
”Erm- I finished the papercraft. I messed up a few times and had to paint over some parts so it took forever.”
“I hope you like how it turned out.”
“I do. It’s real pretty. I can take a photo fer ye.”
“I’d like that.”
That smile made his stomach flip again so he shoved another bite into his mouth. What kind of voodoo hold did you have on him? Someone please smack Johnny across the face, because how dare he fantasise that this was another Friday night date with his missus when before this, you hadn’t even spoken for over two months.
He cleared his throat. “Hav’ ye been? To Edinburg Castle?”
“No, which is weird come to think of it.” You laughed. “I love castles and Scotland isn’t even that far.”
“How so?”
“Oh, I guess I just never had a reason to go.”
“Well, it’s beautiful this time of year. Maybe my maw’s stew can be it,” he pretended to tease. Pretended, because how mad would you be if you knew he meant it?
You let out a small laugh as you held his gaze. “Maybe.”
Did you miss me too? The words threaten to claw up his throat and he forced them down with another sip of his drink.
You probably only spoke to him because it’d been long enough, thinking he’d have moved on. You wouldn’t think he was pathetic if you knew the truth, would you? That he was close to tears from how much his bones hopelessly ached for this, and how natural it was to be with you even after the void.
After the meal, he dawdled. Would time sit down and catch its breath? It didn’t have to hurry, really. His chest had just stopped bleeding, and he wanted to be here a little longer before it poured again.
He told himself to not think that maybe you lingered too. That you leaned back with that shy smile and toyed with the straw of your empty cup, pretty lashes flicking as your gaze went between his eyes and the floor… Like looking into his eyes too long would shift the stars and make you change your mind.
He didn’t mind at all.
Alas, the shop had to close. Johnny let out a resigned sigh as he pushed the glass door open of you, accepting that the magic would vaporise with your exit. At least he’d had another taste – his last. Maybe it would be easier now. Maybe in a few more months, it didn’t have to hurt anymore.
He dragged his feet to yours, bracing for the finality of the goodbye. His chest had started to ache again. The way you looked at him with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes – was that sympathy? Like an unspoken agreement that this was a bad idea all along, like this was only dragging the pain on.
Still, to him, it was not one to regret.
But the doormat squelched when you stepped onto it.
“Erm- hen?” He pointed at the puddle seeping from under your door.
You gasped and promptly unlocked your door, only to discover your flat pooled in an inch of water.
He hurried to the bathroom, learning that a trickle of clear water poured from the ceiling. “Shit, I think yer neighbour’s got a burst pipe or somethin’.”
“Oh, no, no no…” You ran a hand over your face. “I can’t afford the repairs.”
He grabbed you by the shoulders, eyes trained on yours. “Hey, it’s not yer fault. Call the landlord.”
Meanwhile, Johnny got your belongings off the floor. Thankfully, the water hadn’t ruined anything apart from the carpeted floors.
Your landlord lived a few floors down and promptly inspected the flat above yours. Your neighbour wasn’t home, but his sink’s pipe had burst and flooded his place too. The landlord assured you that the building was insured and that you didn’t have to pay for damages. If any, you were covered for yours.
She moved you to another flat, a bigger one for the same price, for how bad she felt. However, it was freshly renovated so it needed a major clean and some furniture hadn’t been moved back in yet.
You figured you could spend another night in your soggy flat, but Johnny insisted it couldn’t have been good for you, especially not in the weather. He promised to help you move the day after.
He could tell you wanted to say no, but the exhaustion gripping your shoulders made you pack your necessities for the night without a fight. When you said you’d take the couch, he firmly told you to take the bed. How could he let you have anything less than the best? It was the least he could do in such a misfortune.
While you cleaned yourself up, he hurried to tidy his room and change his sheets. Later when he emerged with a bundle of dirty sheets and shirts he’d picked up off the floor, you were at the kitchen counter, your back to him.
“Sorry fer the mess, but the room is good t’go now.”
You turned with a smile. “Thanks, Johnny, really. Here, I made you tea.” When you placed his mug on the table, you paused, gaze fixed on it.
When he realised what you’d seen, he sprinted to the dining table where he’d been sketching that afternoon. He didn’t plan on meeting you today, let alone have you in his flat.
“Aw, no, no- fuck.” He scurried to shut his sketchbook, clutching it to his chest with hot cheeks. He looked up at you, a stunned or perhaps even pained expression across your face. “I- I swear it’s nothin’ weird! I can throw em’ out-”
“Who’s that?”
“What?” he said incredulously.
“Who’s that, that you drew? Is she…” Your eyes darted to the ground before you continued in a small voice, “Are you seeing her?”
He blinked. Did you think it was someone else?
“I fockin’ wish I was!” He tilted the sketch he was working on towards you, the one where he was supposedly cupping your smiling face, mindless doodles of hearts piled in the corner of the page. “It’s you!”
“No, I don’t look like that… It’s not me.”
“Did ye just insult my drawing prowess?”
He flipped back to a page of smaller sketches from your last dinner. It was the night his lovelorn mind kept drifting off too, the only time you dressed up for him, the closest he had been to having you.
He did a full body sketch of your outfit. Next to it, you at the table across him with the prettiest smile. He drew each dish, even the one you didn’t like, as he didn’t want to forget a thing from that perfect moment.
“She’s beautiful,” you muttered, eyes softening as you took in the illustration.
“Because you are. I love looking at you. I love drawing you,” he confessed. “But I guess yer too busy avoiding me to care.”
Your eyes met his blue ones as your shoulders sagged. “Johnny…”
“M’ sorry. I wasn’t trying to make ye feel bad.” He closed his book again with a sigh. “But if I’m honest, it hurts. A lot. But at least yer not leading me on, so I’m just… trying to forget.” He chuckled humourlessly as he shook his head. “It’s stupid how I can’t stop liking ye.”
“You like me?” you repeated.
His brows furrowed. “Isn’t that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“No! Oh God-“ You held your hand over your mouth. “I was… I started liking you too much and I had to stop before it was too late, because you don’t like me like that.”
“Me? I don’t like ye!?” He pointed at himself. “Who the fuck said that?”
“Well, no one, but-“
“I can say with certainty ah’ve never not liked ye.”
You paused before your gaze shifted to the mug in your hand. “I didn’t think it would matter to you.“
“Of course it matters, hen.” He rounded the table and placed his hand over yours, lowering the mug onto the table. “It hurts, losing ye like tha’.”
“I’m sorry, Johnny. I didn’t mean to,” you mumbled.
“So do ye still like me or not? Because I like you a lot.”
You couldn’t meet his baby blues, but you gave a small nod as you supressed a smile.
He set the sketchbook down, a grin forming on his lips. “Will you finally let me hug you now?”
You reached out for his hand, your touch feather-light as you stepped in. He wrapped his arms around you with a content sigh. You felt better than what he’d always imagined – softer, warmer. He didn’t let go for a few moments as he smiled to himself, still not believing his mind-boggling luck that you liked him.
With his lungs full of your scent, he pulled away to cup your smiling face, just like in his last sketch. It was perfect in his rough hand. Was he allowed to touch something so beautiful with it?
He didn’t expect you to lean in as your eyes locked with his, but it was second nature to pull you closer. Your lips against his made his knees tremble. When your hot tongue swiped across his lower lip, goosebumps broke out on his arms. You lit him up with a zap up his spine.
His lips parted as he let out a noise, something between a gasp and a moan. Another pathetic whimper escaped him when his tongue swirled with yours. He could only hold onto you tighter as he melted against you.
This was how it was supposed to be like all along.
When he pulled away, he couldn’t help but bring his fingertips to his wet lips. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Was tha’ real or am I dreamin’?”
“Kiss me again, Johnny,” you said breathlessly, cupping his bearded jaw.
“You never have to ask again.”
Johnny didn’t think it would ever come to this, but you and him became the gym couple.
“Can I get a kiss for every sit-up, hen?”
“Bon, let’s make out between sets.”
“Do ye want to see how many times I can hip-thrust yer weight, love?”
You’d giggle, swatting his arm as he gave you a smug grin. But you were the one he pressed up against the far wall of the deserted gym, your hips squirming against his.
“So glad there’s no cameras here,” he muttered between kisses.
“I still would prefer no possibility of someone walking in.”
“Everyone knows not to walk in when we’re here.”
It was true. People didn’t take long to learn to give you space, lest the muscular Scot stared them down. That, and he imagined it was rather awkward to witness him smack your butt not-so discreetly.
You laughed against his lips, pinching his ass lightly.
“Ye know I like it when ye do that harder, bon.”
He should start wearing oversized shirts that hung past his groin again. He didn’t need a compression shirt anymore when he could rip his shirt off anytime to tempt you now that you were his - in the privacy of his or your flat of course.
Before his next deployment, Johnny gave you his key and let you drive his car in case you needed it. When he came back two weeks later, you greeted him with a new papercraft kit. He didn’t have enough time to thank you because he dove right into your lips. Did you have any idea how much he missed you?
Spending time at his sketching or crafting became a nightly routine as you joked and chatted about the day.
Across him, you hunched, laser-focused on attaching the conical roof to one of the castle towers with a pair of tweezers. The way you furrowed your brows in concentration always made him smile.
“Hen,” he said again, finally gaining your attention as you looked up at him. “I said I can take a leave next month.”
“Oh, how long? Have you got anything planned?”
“I wantae take ye t’see the real thing.” He nodded at the half-built Glamis castle in the middle of the table.
The smile bloomed on your lips. “Are you serious?”
“Aye, of course.”
“That would be wonderful.”
He shifted his attention to the piece of paper in his hand. “Ye know, I could- if you want to see my home, meet the rest of my family… Maybe have my maw’s stew.” When you didn’t respond, his eyes flicked up to your warm ones.
“I’d love to, Johnny,” you muttered.
He gave you a relieved smile and you continued the activity until you called it a day. You washed the tea set as he put away the papercraft.
He watched you for a moment, your back to him at the sink wearing one of his shirts. It was a familiar sight, you in his flat. It was silly, but even after hours of being with you, he grew clingy when it inched closer to bedtime on weekdays as it meant you had to go back to yours.
While he was grateful for each night spent in each other’s arms, it was never enough. These walls had never been this much like home before you. It was your home too, wasn’t it?
He shouldn’t have asked. He didn’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable, but his heart belonged to you. How could he not be honest?
“Love,” he placed a gentle hand on your hip. “Would you consider moving in with me? It doesn’t have to be anytime soon, but later on. In the future, whenever you want to.”
You turned to him with a teasing smile. “You sure you won’t get sick of me?”
“Never, bon,” he said under his breath. “I’ll take care of rent, and you can use the savings to take that course you always wanted.”
You held his gaze for another beat. “I’ll only consider if we split rent.”
“In that case, I’ll just have to find more ways to spoil you.”
He planted a kiss on your forehead, making you smile. He’d make sure you’d never think of him as anything less than the best boyfriend.
Johnny couldn’t stop bouncing as you boarded the train to Scotland. He hadn’t been able to wipe that grin off his face either.
“I’m so excited, bon.” He gripped your hand with two of his, holding it against his chest as his eyes sparkled. “My maw’s going to love ye.”
Under the clear blue skies, the city tapered into a line as the train bolted through vast grasslands.
You turned to him with a small laugh. “Why are you saying that as if I don’t know her, like she hasn’t been giving us cooking lessons on video call?”
“Ah, well, that’s true.” He shrugged. “But she’s gonnae love ye even more. And my niece and nephews.”
“I can’t wait to meet them.”
“They grow so fast, some could only sit on my lap last year. Don’t know if they still can this time.”
“What if I also want to sit on your lap?”
He grinned. “There’s always space for ye between my legs.”
Johnny took you to his nan’s to meet his extended family, which included his niece and nephews who were devastated that their favourite uncle didn’t have a mohawk anymore. Looking at the dejection in their little cute faces, of course he promised he would return with it next time.
His mum and aunts gushed over how sweet you were together. His cousins included you in the conversation, asking about your itinerary in Scotland and recommending spots to check out. Of course they’d also asked how you two met. They weren’t surprised you found the rat in the gym.
After lunch, the energised kids took Johnny and you by the hand to the backyard to play. Because he’d been bench pressing you, he could swing the kids around as they latched onto his arms and legs, shrieking in glee. The others formed a line for their turn with a giggle while you gave his niece a piggyback ride.
Before heading back home, Johnny gave you a tour of the town. It was quiet, but he showed you his schools, the hip places he and his friends frequented as teens and the football field he used to play on. Lastly, he drove past his first ever gym - the one that started it all.
“Tha’ fine summer day when I was 15th, I decided I needed t’carry all my maw’s shoppin’ in a go,” he lamented in front of the small building. “Mr. Russel’s the owner. He was always so nice, gave me free protein shake every Saturday. He was so proud when SAS accepted me.”
You unbuckled your seatbelt. “Alright, let’s go.”
“Wha’?”
“I know you’ve been itching to lift. Come on.” You climbed out of the car.
He followed with a grin. Perpetually dressed in athleisure clothing had its perks. “This is why I love ye, hen.”
Mr. Russell was scribbling behind the desk when the door swung open.
“Hiya, welcome-“ His face lit up when he saw the sergeant. “Johnny!”
“Good t’see ya, Mr. Russell.”
The middle-aged man patted his shoulder firmly, looking him over with pride. “Looking huge, pal. Are you following a new split?”
“Ta, mate, but it’s the same as always.” He grinned. “Giza day pass, would ye?”
“Don’t be daft, Mactavish! Yer free t’walk in whenever.” He swatted his hand and turned to you. “An’ who’s the lady?”
“Och, sorry, this is m’friend.“ He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and shot you a teasing smile.
You frowned, but immediately recovered with a smile. “We’re super best friends actually, and flatmates. Nice to meet you.”
He laughed, his thumb rubbing your shoulder. “No, she’s ma pretty burd. We’re staying fer the weekend.”
“Hope ye enjoy yer stay, miss.” Mr. Russell chuckled along. “Go ahead then. Have a good session ye two!”
Past the turnstile gate, your hand slipped down to pinch his butt making him jump.
Yeah, he should stop teasing you in public, or at least wear baggy shirts when he did it.
Masterlist
Thank you so much for sticking around until the end :D I'm grateful for the support this fic has got, always enjoy writing for you guys. Hope to see you around again. Take care!
@tiredmetalenthusiast @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @marvelssssssss @mydaiilyescape @teranyaa
@noicedog @wannabhere @devcica @loveergirll @vmaxis
@dind1n @wh0s-ra3 @trashitytrashitytrash @winnieb00 @izzybmep
@kukavittu @toeeekneeee @rip-cod-brainrot @asbestos-n-asbesties @sinelity
@two-autumns @partyrockingbeanwater @eve-lie @kelseyms-world @anacod
@lovebookbunny @sil-ver-shadow @illegirljoonie @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen
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itostea · 1 year ago
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rings (gojo x wife! reader)
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in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring
warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list
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There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee. 
Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that. 
“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”
You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”
“On the same bed?”
“Yes?”
“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”
“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.
Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”
You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”
“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.
“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”
“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”
“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”
They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”
“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”
“That’s not really my way of doing things…”
Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”
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You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.
Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”
You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”
“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”
“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited. 
By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy. 
You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?” 
“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”
“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food. 
The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”
Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”
He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table. 
He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”
All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”
“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”
“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey. 
It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”
Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”
You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own. 
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“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch. 
He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”
“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.
Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!” 
You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”
“Because I just can’t!” 
“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly. 
“I can’t ‘Toru–”
“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”
You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”
You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”
He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”
You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well
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It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo–the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.
You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing. 
You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart. 
His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”
Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave. 
It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts. 
“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!” 
And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.
tags:
@maliamaiden, @dookiemeshibear, @icarusignite, @padsgrlly, @katiaesmeralda, @mooncleaver, @jcrml, @istanuwow, @stilinskispjo, @hjjjbb, @delulusuga, @hellogoog, @scrumdillyyumyumpurr, @wordskeeper, @rampagingroses, @demiwizardvampire145, @haikyuusimpsblog, @esmeensheep, @msunknown911, @saebeary, @mysuperrainbow, @scarletevening, @tedbunny333, @tulips-ss, @primapoppy, @realboysrdumb, @ems-tumbo, @a-cloudy-dreamy-day, @evalynanne, @kaiisers, @trisisbasic, @luna0713hunter, @arisucat, @honili, @dovahkiinsbitch, @porridgesblog, @siennahsteaparty, @dee-dreams-and-stuff, @satoruskitchenrag, @moonmalice, @junglewoos, @thisbicc, @heartsoji, @mysticmyth, @phoenixforgotten, @sillygoosegoose, @the-mad-hatress, @kairuthewriter, @batmansleftfoot
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sayyestoheav3nn · 16 days ago
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You, Again: Part 1/2
Roman x black!oc
Warnings: fluff, angst, short mention of abortion, emotional/verbal abuse
Word Count: 3k
a/n: thanks for your patience, it really means a lot 🥹 I hope this isn't a disappointment. still working on part five of nights like this, most likely won't be posted till monday. click here if you would like to be tagged in part two.
Sky spent hours in her room crying into her pillow. She was sick and tired of this constant fucked up routine.
Her mother’s disdain for her progressively grew worse day by day. For as long as she could remember, that woman did everything in her power to make sure she understood that her biggest mistake in life, would always be the day she chose not to abort her.
It was starting to become a nightly occurrence of her drunkenly barging into her room just to belittle and scream at her. 
Her mother’s hatred for her grew immensely as the years went on, to the point where she would find absolutely any reason to take her frustrations out on her.
This included breaking any and everything she could get ahold of in Sky’s room.
Sky knew any attempt to defend herself would only make the situation ten times worse, so she just stayed quiet and accepted it.
Sky could tell she wanted a reaction out of her, which is exactly why she refused to give it.
Maybe life would have been a tad bit easier, if her sister would’ve had her back during these repetitive toxic situations she was forced into. 
But no, her one and only sibling turned out to be an even more evil and vindictive bitch. 
Eva was four years older than her, and it was absolutely no secret that her older sister despised her.
Sky spent many years hoping she would eventually be able to build a relationship with her big sister. 
Unfortunately, she couldn’t have been more wrong. 
Sky remembers that night like it was yesterday. The night where Eva went to the bathroom and her creepy boyfriend tried to make multiple passes at her.
The fact that he knew she was underaged and still chose to hit on her, disgusted Sky to another level. She quickly rejected his creepy insinuations, trying her best to ignore him. 
As soon as Eva stepped out of the bathroom, Sky wasted no time in telling her exactly what happened, not giving two fucks about the fact he was still standing there.
Her boyfriend immediately interjected, saying that Sky was the one who was hitting on him, he painted a story about how she’d been making him uncomfortable for the longest of time whenever Eva wasn’t around.
She remembered the exact lies he spewed, “Baby you know how jealous she’s always been of you, don’t tell me you believe this crazy bitch! Why would I ever do that to you? Let alone in your own house!”
To her surprise Eva looked at Sky like she was fucking insane, Sky could see her sisters anger rising.
“Eva, please don’t tell me you believe him over me…” Sky’s voice cracked as tears started to form in her eyes.
Eva pushed Sky against the wall with all the force she had, causing the back of Sky’s head to slightly start bleeding. 
“If you ever even think to go near him again, I’ll fucking kill you,” Eva sneered.
In that exact moment Sky whole heartedly accepted the fact that she was truly alone, with absolutely no one by her side. 
And just when she had fully given up hope on continuing to live this shitty life, with her even shittier family, she met Joe. 
Joe was a boy who made her whole entire world shift. 
He was her new neighbor, who in a short time of getting to know, became her favorite person. 
As years passed they grew even closer, she was his best friend, and he was hers. 
He was truly a light in her dark world, and there wasn’t a damn thing she’d do to change that.
……….
After another night of the same bullshit fight caused by her drunken mom, Sky carefully stumbled out of her bedroom window making her way across the wet grass that was now starting to soak her fuzzy slippers. Her phone was dead, so she had no choice but to rely on the natural moonlight to illuminate the short path leading her next door.
She lightly tapped on Joe’s window, hoping not to startle him.
Shortly after, he carefully slid his window open. His eyes were low and sunken, a sleepy smile formed on his face.
“Come in.” Joe helped Sky climb in, which basically consisted of him doing all the work in picking her up.
“Shit, sorry for waking you up Joe,” she whispered.
“Sky, how many times have I told you? Never apologize for that shit,” his voice was low.
Joe knew that she had issues with her family, but Sky made sure to never tell him how bad it really was. She knew him well, his hot headed ass would confront them with no hesitation, but that would only end up making things worse for her. 
If Sky’s mom found out about him, she’d forbid her from ever seeing him again.
And that’s something that Sky simply would not allow, so choosing to keep him in the dark, in her eyes was the right choice.
Joe pulled his covers back leaving Sky’s preferred side easier for her to get in.
His bedroom became a safe space for her, it was starting to become a habit for Sky to spend her nights sleeping there. For some odd reason the smell of his sheets gave her a sense of comfort, his cologne scent became soothing to her.
They both laid down on their backs, with their gazes focused on the ceiling. 
Joe was always respectful, making sure he left a small space in between them.
“You wanna talk about it?” He whispered.
“Thanks, but not really,” she sighed.
Joe could hear the sadness in her tone, he knew she was holding something in, but he didn’t want to push her. He believed she’d open up when she felt comfortable enough, so he respected that.
“That’s okay….but know you can tell me anything, Sky.”
She turned her body to face him, “I’m going to tell you something, but promise me you won’t get upset,” she muttered.
Just as Joe was deep in his thoughts admiring Sky’s beauty, beauty in which he was convinced everyone saw except her, her light angelic voice instantly snapped him out of it. “Talk to me, we’ll go from there.”
“This is going to be my last night sleeping here…”
Joe quickly sat up on the bed, with his eyebrows furrowed. Sky could feel his gaze locked in on her. “Why?”
“Joe I know we’re just friends and that we’ve always had boundaries, but you have a girlfriend. It…it just seems disrespectful to keep sleeping here knowing that,” she muttered.
Joe paused in silence for what felt like forever. Sky was starting to get anxious, because the last thing she needed was to cause problems or a rift between them. As regret started to seep in, she decided to try and smooth the situation over.
“It’s just—”
“We’re not together anymore,” his voice was low.
Confusion, that’s exactly what Sky was feeling. This was the last thing she was expecting him to say.
“W—Why didn’t you say anything? What happened?”
“She didn’t like me being friends with you, so she gave me an ultimatum… to choose between you or her.” 
At that Sky stood up, her anxiety causing her to pace the room while so much guilt began to weigh her mind. She felt so fucking bad, knowing that her friendship ended his relationship which was the exact thing she was trying to avoid. 
She swallowed down her emotions as best as she could, which worked to no prevail because she instantly felt warm tears begin to slide down her face. “Joe I-I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t….you shouldn’t have chosen me.”
Joe instinctively walked towards her now seeing that she was crying, he gently grabbed her chin forcing her gaze on his. 
“Sky, there’s no reason to be sorry. It was the easiest choice I’ve ever fucking made.’’
“I—It’s my fault Joe…. I shouldn’t have put you in this situation,” she sniffled. 
“Look at me,” his voice was assertive but still gentle, Sky’s glossy eyes met his.
“The ultimatum wasn’t the only reason I ended things with her, Sky.” 
“Joe, w—what do you mean? I’m confused…..”
He moved some of her hair behind her ears, the way his eyes were glued to her lips gave her butterflies. “I….don’t want to just be friends anymore.”
Sky could feel her heart beating out of her fucking chest. Sure she believed they were close, but in no world did she ever think he thought of her that way. Joe carefully studied her facial expressions, trying to figure out what she was thinking.
“I—”
Before she could speak Joe interrupted. “I’ve always liked you Sky, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, inside and out. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. With that being said… I understand if you don’t feel the same way, my intention isn’t to make you uncomfortable. But, I just needed you to—
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
“I want you to kiss me, Joe.” 
Just as he was beginning to lean in, she slightly hesitated while slowly pulling back.
“I’ve.. I’ve never…” Sky was too embarrassed to finish her sentence.
“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”
She shook her head no, her gaze now shifted to the floor. 
Joe lightly brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Sky, it’s just me. I got you, I promise.”
Once she silently gave him the approval, Joe gently pressed his lips against hers, starting off slow letting her get used to the feeling. Her lips were so fucking full and soft, it was going to be a challenge for him to contain himself.
Once Joe could feel her growing comfortable, he began to deepen their kiss. Sky could feel her arousal intensify as the kiss went from soft and slow to something more needy and sensual.  
Without a second thought, he picked her up by her ass, hoisting her on his hips. 
Sky wrapped her legs around him, while doing the same with her arms around his neck. Joe carried her back towards his bed, laying her down gently, while pulling her closer towards him.
To his surprise Sky climbed on top, straddling and kissing him. Joe sat up with his back resting on the headboard, a light moan escaped him when she slid her fingers behind his head, lightly scratching at his scalp.
He slightly pulled away, biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes entranced by that beautiful face of hers. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
“Me too,” she grinned.
Time passed, and Joe had no idea how long they spent kissing. It’s almost as if time didn’t exist when she was around him.
They eventually had to stop, Joe refused to get ahead of himself, making sure to prioritize taking things slow with her.
Just as they were about to sleep, Joe got up and walked to his drawer pulling out something plastic, it was too dark for her to tell.
“Shit, I almost forgot.” 
“What is it?”
Joe handed her the light plastic item. “I know you forget to bring it sometimes, so I bought you one to leave here.”
Once Sky shined her phone light on it, a smile formed on her face.
A bonnet. 
Joe went out of his way to buy her a bonnet.
Something so simple, yet so fucking thoughtful made her eyes water “Thank you Joe.” 
She immediately pulled it out the package, wasting no time in putting it on.
Sky kissed his cheek and laid down, Joe pulled her by her waist with his big arms wrapped around her, there was no longer a gap in between. The warmth of his chest on her back was the most comforting thing she’d ever experienced, resulting in her instantly falling asleep.
Since the day he met her, she’d been the only person he thought about. Having her this close to him, internally evoked new emotions for him.
Watching her sleep so peacefully while being wrapped in his arms, brought a smile to his face. In that very moment he made a vow to himself, to always put her happiness first.
No matter what.
…………….
Present
The New York city lights illuminated the busy streets. Sky wasn’t used to being in such a live and ambient city. 
After a shit ton of convincing from her best friend Lori, Sky forced herself to step out of her comfort zone and pursue a new potential career opportunity. It’s something that she had been wanting to do for the longest time, but unfortunately her deep rooted insecurities had her convinced she wasn’t good enough.
She was scared to waste so much time and effort, just to end up receiving rejection. 
Except she was wrong, very wrong. Because after an exhausting few months of traveling around the world and going to so many different try outs, life finally threw her a bone.
Sky had received a message from her agent, informing her that a well known modeling agency based in New York, was interested in flying her in for a week to attend their casting call.
This was an opportunity she was glad she didn’t miss. Lori, being the amazing friend that she is, decided to join Sky to offer her unwavering support.
After being in this colorful, fast paced city for a few days, Sky went in for one last meeting with the agency where they informed her she would officially be signed.
Sky still had the weekend left in this enormous city, so she figured she’d make the most of it. Lori, suggested they try out this new fancy bar to celebrate Sky’s new job.
As they walked in the atmosphere was relaxing, the room was filled with dim lighting and the low sounds of jazz music. Sky noticed diverse groups of people scattered across the room, the air was filled with chatter and laughter, which brought a small smile to her face.
They decided to sit at the stools of the bar, they figured the closer they were, the faster they’d receive their drinks.
To say they were having a good time would be an understatement, Sky was starting to truly enjoy the feeling of being immersed in this vibrant city.
While Lori went to the bathroom, Sky decided to order their third drinks, and as she was waiting she ended up getting distracted with a dumbass reality show, that for some reason was starting to pique her interest.
Just as the boring commercials started to play, she was starting to zone out when out of the corner of her eye she saw a WWE ad.
Sky could instantly feel her breath hitch in her throat. It’s not the first time she’s seen him randomly displayed on tv. 
That’s not the exact reason her heart was racing, while her body felt frozen in place. It’s the fact that the advertisement said he was in this exact area for a press event he had during the weekend. 
Every piece of joy she was feeling prior to this revelation was stripped away.
Lori came back, and with one glance at Sky, she immediately knew something was wrong, “Sky, are you okay?”
Sky cleared her throat, trying her absolute best to play it off. “I’m fine, I promise. I think these drinks are hitting me all at once,” she nervously chuckled.
Lori stared at Sky, seeming completely unconvinced, but she ultimately decided to let it go.
“I’ll drop it for now, only because it’s a big day for you.”
“Thank you,” Sky mouthed.
Sky waited twenty minutes for Lori to finish her drink, her anxiety made it feel like she was waiting a lifetime. Once Lori finished up, Sky asked to leave, using the excuse that she was exhausted. 
Lori paid their tab after refusing to let Sky pay a dime. They started to make their way out of the packed bar, trying their best to maneuver away from large crowds. 
Just as they were close to the entrance door, Lori had to turn around when she noticed she left her sunglasses. Sky was looking back to see if her friend had located them, while still walking forward. 
She decided it would be best to wait outside since the bar was starting to get congested. When she reached to open the door, her gaze was glued to her purse while she dug for her cellphone.
Before she knew it, she accidentally bumped into someone, causing her to stumble back.
She stood up, immediately apologizing, moving to the side as more people walked in. “Shit. I’m so sorry!” 
“Sky?” His voice was low and hesitant. 
In hearing that voice, his voice… she looked up, suddenly feeling the air grow thick. The bar started to feel small, as if it was enclosing around her.
She felt her body go cold, her legs started to feel weak and numb. No words escaped her mouth, she was rendered speechless.
He studied her, noticing she was just as fucking stunning as he remembered. After all these years, the feeling he got when she looked up at him, never changed.
“Sky…” 
“Stay the fuck away from me, Roman,” her voice cracked, while tears began to pool in her eyes. She pushed past him, while quickly walking away.
He knew he deserved it, but hearing her call him by that name fucking stung.
He stopped her by gently grabbing her arm.
“Sky, if you never want to see me again after this, I’ll…I’ll let you be. But please just let me explain,” he pleaded.
“I think it’s a little too fucking late for that,” she scoffed. 
Sky walked out the bar without looking back, quickly texting Lori saying she’d be at a café a few blocks over. Right now all she wanted was to create as much distance as possible, from the man who broke her heart.
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alternate-real-ities · 3 months ago
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So I’ve been working really hard at the gym and am really proud of the progress I’ve made (down 130 lbs!) but I often wonder what kind of life I lead in alternate realities. I’d love to get an idea of what might have been!
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This post was written with the help (well mostly him) of a friend (we need to talk btw 😅). Hope you like it! - A.R.
Damn buddy, 130 lbs is a lot of weight! You should be very proud of yourself. But hey, I get it. Everyone wants to know what lies beyond the borders of this reality. Everyone wants to take a peek, to see how they would do if some minor things would have been different in their life.
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Let’s look at something close to home. Here, in this reality, only a few away from our own, not much is different. Your fitness journey has continued, which has led to a good physique with some nicely toned muscles.
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In this reality you are a total eye candy, working an amazingly successful job and enjoying life to the fullest. Having such an amazing physique certainly has it perks. You are a famous Insta model, making easy money flexing your toned muscles.
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This is you in another universe similar to the previous one. The main difference in is that in this reality, you are a true testosterone bomb. You are even more buff in this one! In this reality, you have been working out for ages, which has led to an amazing level of hormones, leading to this rugged hunk! A thick beard covers your face, as dark hairs powder your balloon-shaped pecs and rock-hard abs. A manly musk hangs around you, as you are the peak of masculinity in this reality.
Oh wait, what's that?
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Hmmm interesting. There seems to be an intertwined parallel reality to this one. The only difference is that now you are a strong black man. Your blonde, straight hair has curled up into a dark afro and your body hair became more coarse, as your dark skin glistens with sweat. A natural swagger comes over you, as you radiate confidence!
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Interesting, intertwined parallel realities are rare, but they are super interesting. I wonder if timeline convergence is easier to achieve in these...
Okay, one more reality to check.
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In this reality, further away from our last one, you are of arab descent. Instead of going to the gym, you found your athletic passion in football. As a young child, you showed potential. After being scouted, you got accepted to a premier scholarship.
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During college, you are extremely popular. I do not know your sexuality in our reality, but in this one you are very much bisexual, going for both the cheerleaders as well as your teammates in the football team. But oh well, who could even resist your charm when you look like that, right?
I hope you enjoyed these different versions of yourself!
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evolnoomym · 5 months ago
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Make Daddy Proud 🦂
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Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader
Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist
Summary: You don’t necessarily like your Mothers new beefy Husband, he tries and tries. To no avail, you just won’t warm up to him. When his patience reaches an end things finally get interesting.
Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, Moon is not a name necessarily but more a nickname, age-gap, ages are unspecified, cheating, infidelity, alcohol consumption, smoking, reader is mean, dubcon, Daddy Kink, reader has a pussy, sex toy, wet humping (?) 😅, cum, squirting, Sunny appearance, reader kinda shames Joel,
If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻
Authors note: this is for @beefrobeefcal ‘s Married Joel Sits On You Challenge. I hope you enjoy Beef, I love you 🦂🤎😏😏😏
Shoutout to @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🤎
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. I appreciate reblogs, comments and likes greatly 🫶🏻
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Your Mother started dating Joel when you were 17, within a year they decided that the two of you would be moving into Joel’s house. Their relationship had an astonishing pace, it made you sick, you should’ve felt happy for her but you couldn’t bring yourself to get used to the idea of having a stepdad again.
Admittedly he was much nicer than the previous one. Joel was really trying to make it easier on you, but he realized quickly that you were not gonna just eat out of his hand like your mother did.
One time over dinner he decided to jokingly offer that you could call him Dad and you were not amused at all.
“You know Moon ya don’t have to call me Joel, could just call me Dad, huh? How bout that.” He gave you a happy and warm smile. He looked genuinely excited.
“No fucking way, Joel, thank you but you are not my Dad and you’ll never be. You are just you.” The response came out in a harsh and cold way, to clearly let him know that you weren’t up for it.
The rest of the dinner was filled by an uncomfortable silence and Joel never tried asking you again.
A couple months later, he caught you smoking out on the patio. He had planned to drink one of his beers in secret. He kept them hidden in his wood carving room, since your mother disapproved of the bitter sparkly liquid.
As soon as he slid the door open he got hit by the smell of burning tobacco. You were leaning on the railing, staring up at the sky, taking slow drags of the glimmering cigarette, clouds of smoke surrounded you and Joel couldn’t help himself from taking in your bend over form. The curve of your ass, your thighs and all the way down to your bare feet. Joel would never admit it but your distanced act pulled him in more and more.
You knew he was right behind you, staring, you could feel his eyes tracing you up and down. Perhaps you arched your back a little more than necessary to show off for him. Give him a show. Have something you could hold above his head if need be.
After he’d gotten closer he stopped right next to you and started quietly sipping his beer. At some point he held out his beer towards you and in exchange you offered him a cigarette. You both knew that this would be your shared little secret, with many more to come, big secrets.
Joel thought he made some progress that night, but you continued to treat him just like before.
Then the day came where Joel decided to get down on one knee and asked your mother to marry him, right in front of you.
You didn’t think it would be possible to dislike him even more. Why would he want to marry your mother? Why did he have to weasel his way into your life? Why did he have to look so good? Why was all of this happening?
The wedding was quickly planned, nothing too fancy, just the closest people invited, which sadly included you too.
On all the wedding-photos that were taken you looked disgusted and appalled by the reality of your situation. Your mother tried to reprimand you for pulling all these faces but you were not gonna pretend to enjoy any bit of the show they put on.
Joel obviously recognized some changes in your behavior after the wedding, but instead of getting better, it got worse. You didn’t even try to hide your disdain anymore. Purposely bumping into him, ignoring when he spoke to you and if looks could’ve kill he’d be dead long ago.
But there’s something else in the way you glared at him, a glimmer of something undetectable and it scared him to not know what went through your head. You could’ve been plotting his downfall and unlike the rest of the family, Joel didn’t wanna make the mistake of underestimating you.
Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed over all like a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. Something you took advantage of, resorting to a childish approach of shaming his beefy form. Calling him out for his large portions, laughing loudly when you could hear him from the master bedroom complaining about his clothes not fitting properly anymore. He could feel your eyes tracking his every move, he felt like prey being watched before getting attacked, all of it happening in his own home.
Joel decided he wanted to make one last attempt to persuade you to accept his presence at least somewhat. You didn’t have to be his Bestfriend, but at least get along with him.
He had organized a spa weekend get away for your mother, so the two of you could spend some uninterrupted bonding time together. Maybe without your Mother you’d feel more comfortable opening up to him.
As usual you started the day by scowling at every move he made, even when you sat on the passenger side of Joel’s car while he drove you to the local aquarium you stared holes into the side of his head.
Even though you were afraid of deep waters he learned quickly that you loved sharks and have always wanted to go to an aquarium. Your mother however never really cared much for that wish, so Joel thought this is how he’d get you on his side.
Instead of having a pleasant conversation with you, he was punished with icy silence. He pathetically trailed behind you in the 2 hours it took to see everything the aquarium had to offer. You didn’t even thank him afterwards but he tried to chalk it up to you maybe having a bad night.
Joel hoped that perhaps him taking you to Kiki’s Nail’s, a very highly respected nail salon, would make you happy but more than a little smile was not in it.
Kiki generously offered that he could sit next to you, to watch what she does on your nails, but you quickly declined.
She also mistook you for his wife, which had you cackling loudly, purposefully embarrassing Joel and implying that he could never land a woman like you.
He got more and more upset, especially seeing you interact so excitedly and animatedly with Kiki. He didn’t understand what he had to do so he could get the same enthusiasm for himself. It pissed him off quite frankly.
When you stood next to him at the cash register you didn’t even blink an eye at 140$ your manicure cost Joel. You even went as far as to laugh at him for getting choked up by the amount of money he had to spend.
At least you seemed to really love the design Kiki did. A little victory he counted for himself.
When you got home, he told you to settle on the couch and relax, all while he was in the kitchen preparing his famous Miller tacos. Your mother told him behind your back that you liked them very much, but of course you’d never admit it to his face.
Even though Joel knew you probably just acted as if you didn’t enjoy them, the lackluster response soured his mood further. It hit rock bottom when you left him to deal with the dishes and ignored the fact he bought your favorite movie to watch with you.
After he had gotten done with cleaning up, he decided to indulge on some of his hidden whiskey. He pours himself a glass and sits down on the couch. Joel feels beyond frustrated by everything that went wrong today.
He spends 30 mins just slowly sipping on his whiskey, all while trying to figure out what to do next. The alcohol in his system makes the ever present Texas heat appear much stronger, so without thinking he pulls his sleeping shirt over his head.
Now only clad in his cotton pajama shorts and with alcohol cursing through his system, Joel impulsively decides he might have to take the route of having a serious talk with you about the ever pending attitude.
Joel stomps up the stairs, thinking you would hear it which makes him not even bother to knock, no, he practically throws himself against the door.
He should’ve expected to be greeted by immediate screaming.
“Joel what the hell?? Get the fuck out of my room!!”
“Noooo…no you shut up lil missy, ‘ve had enough of ya pissy attitude.”
“Get out,” And when he doesn’t react you continue “Are you deaf, old man, do I need to spell it out?? Fuck off.”
If Joel would’ve been less drunk he might have caught the panicked and out of breath way in which you spoke.
He starts shaking his head as he approaches your bedside.
“You know I’ve had enough of you, I tried all damn day to make ya happy. Ya didn’t show me an ounce of respect,” he comes to a stop beside your bed “ what is your goddamn problem, huh?”
You could say something to de-escalate the situation but that would be so unlike you.
“Fuck you, Joel.”
In Joel’s head a switch flips, within a split second he swings his leg over you and as he sits down on your hips the healthy swell of his tummy rubs up against you.
A shiver runs up your spine and you let out a sigh.
“W..wha- what are you doing Joel?”
He looks feral, like an animal ready to pounce on you any moment.
“Teaching ya a much needed lesson, sweet girl.”
His big warm, calloused hands engulf your wrists and pin them to the mattress beside your head.
Out of the corner of his eyes Joel sees something purple, he looks towards your nightstand and there it is. A purple silicone cock shaped vibrator, it looks glossy, covered in slick.
You can see the wheels turning in his head and when he seems to have come to some sorta conclusion his features light up.
His head turns back to you.
“Oh babygirl, ya naughty lil thing. You’ve been playin’ with yourself? Been in a bad mood all day long cuz that needy little pussy needed some attention,huh?”
Instead of answering your eyes wander down his bare chest.
“Where’s your shirt Joel?”
“Ya got a problem, baby?”
Your cheeks are heating up and you start nibbling on your lower lip while still staring.
“Ya like what you see sweet girl?”
He lets go of one wrist and tilts your chin up with two fingers.
You nod.
“Nah, use your voice babygirl. Come on ya know what I want to hear.”
“Yes Daddy.”
He grunts deeply.
“Atta Girl.”
Now both his hands slip beneath your lower back and he sits up while pulling you with him.
You go from being pinned beneath him, to sitting on top of his lower gut.
Your hands are splayed on his chest, probing yourself up.
His hands go to your hips, instantly squeezing and kneading.
“Oh baby, she’s leaking, dripping all over me. That lil pussy is so sloppy.”
With that his hands momentarily slip lower to pull his shorts down, at least so much that his cock can be freed. One of his hands goes back to your hips, while the other comes up to your mouth.
“Spit.”
And you do. Letting a decent amount drop into the palm of his hand and then it disappears behind you. At the squelching noises you're able to detach that he is touching himself.
“Start rubbing that cunt on me. Make yourself come. Use me sweetheart.”
He instructs, while setting a rhythm with the hand on your hip.
The slick noises that his hand wrapped around his length produce combined with your wet pussy fill your bedroom.
“Yes baby, ya doin’ so good for me. Finally being a good girl.”
You feel his thumb soothingly circling your hipbone.
“I was already close, I’m gonna come soon, Daddy.” You sound deliciously whiny.
Music to Joel’s ears.
It takes not much longer to make Joel catch up with you. You can tell he’s getting close by the way his hands grips your hip tightly, he will most likely leave marks.
“Baby you gotta lift up for me. Quick!”
You swiftly lift yourself up and watch in awe how he paints his tummy with white creamy ropes of cum.
“Good god, baby,” he writhes beneath you, “settle back down darlin’.”
When you lower yourself back down onto him you moan at the incredible sensation of his spend being spread up and down his hairy belly by your lips. It stimulates your engorged clit perfectly.
You are whimpering furiously.
“Da..Da- Daddy, so..so good. I’m gonna come, it feels so different, ughh.”
“Yes baby, be a good girl an’ come on me. Come on Daddy’s tummy.”
It takes only a couple more seconds before you fall over the edge with a high pitched scream, you feel yourself leaking more than ever before, hips stuttering in his iron grip.
You flop forward into Joel’s neck, burying yourself there and inhaling his comforting scent.
“Sweet girl ya made Daddy very happy, didn’t know ya could squirt, my princess is full of surprises, ain’t she?”
His cheek leans against yours to get your attention but to no avail, all energy was spend.
The soft snoring is all indication Joel needed.
He gently turned you on your back, got up, retrieved a washcloth and carefully cleaned you up. The last thing he does is tuck you in and leave a kiss on your forehead.
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Hours later you are laying on your stomach in bed while holding the phone up to your ear.
“Sunny you won’t fucking believe what happened yesterday.”
Sunny’s manic giggling tells you she already has a pretty good idea of what could’ve happened.
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Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻
Tags: @aurorawritestoescape @joelmillerisapunk @milla-frenchy @the-mandawhor1an @rivnedell @iamasaddie @toxicanonymity @ace-turned-confused @strang3lov3 @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @moonlitbirdie @joelstummy @joelsdagger @joelslegalwhre @joelsgreys @pedge-page @littlemisspascal @fhatbhabiee @punkshort @macfrog @thundermartini @mrsmando @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @syd-djarin @msjarvis @miss-oranje-disco-dancer
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champagnefountains · 11 months ago
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I have a request if they're still open.
Alastor decides to hire Reader as a radio intern. He first did it for entertainment, sending them out to do ridiculously hard and long tasks for his own amusement, like fetching him coffee from the other side of Hell in a super short period of time or proof reading scripts that he purposely made completely illegible to anyone but himself, but had slowly begun to fall for them the longer they stuck around.
ALASTOR - H.H.
Prompt: Being Alastor's radio intern.
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Thank you for your request anon! I hope you'll enjoy this one!
Word count: 1.5k+ words. Genre/other tags: Fluff. Humour. Warnings: None.
You were unfortunate to have your soul be owned by the renowned Radio-Demon. Tough luck. You were merely a desperate soul who needed a major favour to be done by yours truly, and are now forever tied and forced to do his bidding. You initially expected a life-time of torture and pain, but was pleasantly surprised when he had requested for you to be his personal radio-intern-slash-assistant.
"Dear Charlie and I have been so, so busy and I just need an extra hand is all...and that's where you come in!" He chimed, pinching your cheek. Alastor explained that he needed someone to assist in managing his radio-broadcasts and schedules while he was out playing hotelier. And just as you thought that you were off the hook, it turns out that this had been his own, little way of torturing you.
Alastor made you do the most ridiculous and tedious tasks ever – like fetching a cup of coffee from a cafe situating on the other side of Hell, or obtain some weird, obscure item from sketchy shops in the most dangerous and chaotic districts in all the Nine Circles, only for it to have little to no significance to him at all. Of course, you did some actual radio-intern-related tasks, but it didn't make things any easier for you. More so than often, Alastor would give you a stack-pile of his broadcast scripts to proof-read. The only problem was that all of it was mostly illegible, almost appearing like chicken scratch. It was then that you knew for certain he was doing this as some sort of sick entertainment for himself, knowing that he had the neatest penmanship amongst the entire team. Oh, and don't even get started with the ridiculous deadlines!
All in all, Alastor was constantly giving you a hard time. However, you were determined to not let him continue to walk all over you. After some time, you were slowly getting used to his strange requests and behaviours, and managed to find ways to work around them. Oh, he wanted his oddly specific order of coffee? You already had it ordered beforehand, and even had the beans supplied to have it readily brewed in the Hotel. He asked for some random-ass antique item? You had already established some connections during your previous commutes, and will have it delivered on the doorstep the next day. You needed to proof-read his scripts? You've learnt to decipher his hieroglyphics and were able to get them done hours before its deadline, whilst also adding in a few of your own critiques and comments.
Already a couple months in the job and you've already got it in the bag. And if he was being honest, Alastor was surprised with your progress. Dare say that he was even impressed! It was like no matter what he had thrown your way, you were able to catch it with ease. Yes, he had to admit: he did initially hire you for his own entertainment – you were his little play-thing when boredom struck – but you had proved yourself as an important asset and massive help towards him and the Hotel. You even went out of your way to help with tasks in the Hotel, such as tending the front desk with Cherri, assisting in the kitchen with Nifty, and even managing some group activities alongside Charlie and Vaggie.
You were incredibly hard-working, selfless and compassionate. Alastor and everyone in the Hotel could see it. It initially ticked Alastor off, seeing that his plans were foiled and were tailored to your favour, but the more you stuck around and spent time with himself and everyone else, he genuinely began enjoying your company. And vice versa. When he wasn't being the overbearing and unreasonable boss that he can be, you actually found yourself having fun in Alastor's presence, now often chuckling at his jokes and schemes.
But that wasn't the only thing that changed.
Alastor came to a stark realisation that he had developed feelings for you. It was a foreign feeling to him, which initially confused him at first but it filled him with such warmth that his cold-heart craved for. He found himself seeking your presence constantly (more than usual, that is), always making an effort to talk to you (again, more than usual), and at times, forcing you to stay in his office while he worked on his scripts, and even have you sit through his broadcasts. Even if it wasn't obvious, Alastor's feelings were overwhelming him with each passing day – he didn't know how to go about it. 
So Alastor resorted to what he does with most things – in straight-forward and curt fashion, of course. 
"S-Sir, you...y-you want me to do what?" You stuttered, a rapid and violent blush suddenly taking over your face. "I said, I want you to go out with me!" Alastor repeated nonchalantly, all the while jokingly tapping a finger on his microphone, "hello, hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing!" You couldn't help but gawk at the deer-demon and his bluntness. He had summoned you to his office out-of-the-blue, requesting your presence urgently in the midst of an activity session you were co-hosting with Vaggie. With the way he went about it, you would've thought that there was some sort of emergency. Not...well, not this.
"...Go out with you? Like...on a walk, or something?" You slowly reiterated, trying to get a grasp on what he was trying to say. Alastor hums to himself, tapping his chin in thought. "Well, if that's what you prefer to do on our date, then I suppose that would be quite swell! We can fit that right in once we've had our dinner," He nods after a brief moment’s contemplation. It nearly sent your eyes popping out of its sockets. "Woah, woah! A-A date?! You mean, a date?! With–with me?!" You exclaimed, pointing to yourself in disbelief. The Overlord rose a brow.
"Why, of course! You're the only one in the room that I'm currently talking to, dear! Oh, hoh, you're quite silly, aren't you?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "B-But...don't you think this is like–I don't know, a bit unprofessional, sir?" You timidly ask, picking at your fingers, "you are my boss, after all..."
Alastor tilted his head to the side, humming, "Hm, perhaps. But I believe we’ve already crossed that boundary long ago, don’t you think? We’ve treated each other like good, ol’ comrades rather than just co-workers these past few months, have we not?” You blink. “I…I guess we have,” you blankly affirm.  
“Right? So, with that being said, I can't help but want something more. I do wish to properly court you. After all, it's not everyday a mortal soul such as yourself could pique my interest. That means to say that you’re quite exceptional, dear!” You couldn’t help but nervously chuckle at the flattery, shaking your head, “w-well, I don’t know about that–” 
“Oh, none of that nonsense!” He suddenly swoops in, waving a hand and shaking his head, “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who has managed to keep up at my level the way you have. It’s very impressive and admirable – take my word for it!” 
Alastor then suddenly evades your personal space, leaning down to eye-to-eye level with you. It startles you momentarily but you decidedly maintain eye-contact with him, too nervous to look away. It causes his grin to widen. "And I can bravely assume that you wouldn't mind taking up my offer...as you haven't yet made any effort or comment to decline it, hm?" He smartly comments, looking at you expectedly. 
Well..damn, he got you there, didn’t he? Because in truth, you did enjoy the playful dynamic you've established with him. You found satisfaction in the little praises and smiles Alastor would send your way whenever you accomplished something and slowly, you found yourself valuing his opinion of you. You then tried to up yourself with each passing day, and it was just as shocking for you when you came to terms with your own feelings. 
And that’s how you found yourself being courted by the Radio-Demon himself. 
After that, nothing much had changed in your dynamic with Alastor – you still continued being his radio-assistant. Well, other than the fact that he had become more openly sweet towards you. This meant calling you a variety of pet-names and giving you a little less work for you when he knows you’ve worked yourself hard enough. Small pecks and kisses will be rewarded when you would hand him his cup of coffee every morning, and he would invite you to join and sit on his lap when he would do his frequent broadcasts. He would also teasingly ask you to call him ‘sir’, knowing that it’ll fluster you so much – he just loved and enjoyed seeing you turn red all over. He even stopped with his hieroglyphics, reverting back to his usual handwriting when writing his scripts – the joke’s gone a bit stale, he says. And at the end of a long, tiring day, Alastor would have you in his arms as you happily basked in each other’s company.
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idleoblivion · 8 months ago
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"Hey Man I Love You, But No Fucking Way" Jamil Viper x GN Reader
Synopsis: The time has finally come for you to leave, but he isn't ready to lose you. Surely you'll hear him out, right?
Word count: ~900
A/N: I usually prefer fluff but thought I'd experiment with a little angst, though I don't think it's too intense. Never written any kind of yandere stuff before so sorry if it's tame.
Warnings: angst, yandere Jamil
This day was bound to come. He knew it, you knew it, everyone did. That didn’t make it any easier for him, though. 
He knew you had started bugging Crowley harder about going home after the second overblot. And harder again after the third, then his, and so on. He wanted to meddle, but Kalim kept him busy. Plus, his faith in Crowley was so low he thought he’d have more time. Time to win you over, time to convince you that your place was with him. And he had made progress, you two had become very close despite what went down in Scarabia over the holiday. But the time for you to go had come regardless. 
He knew you had people you missed and places you still wanted to see. He knew that at the end of the day, no matter how much he’d grown to like your presence, you were not meant to be in Twisted Wonderland. 
But he still held onto that naive hope he had that you would hear him out tonight. Perhaps too tightly.
“You know how much you mean to me, don’t you?”
“I do.” You answer almost emotionlessly.
“Then… then please-” “Don’t ask me what you’re about to ask me. Don’t do that.”
He should’ve stopped there, but he couldn’t. If there was any chance of you staying with him, he had to fight for it. So he kept going.
“Please… you don’t know what my life was like before you. Please don’t leave me like this.”
You don’t say anything back. He could already feel himself unraveling, but tried to hold it together the best he could. 
“You’re the only person I can be myself around. You’re the only person who I can show what I’m actually capable of, the only-” “Jamil, you need to stop this. Now.”
“I love you.” He admits with desperation. “I love you, please, you can’t leave me like this. I’ll never…” he trails off, holding back tears.
“I love you too, Jamil…” You sigh deeply.
“Just not enough to stay?” He snaps without thinking. The look on your face immediately tells him that was the wrong thing to say. “How fucking dare you? You think you’re the only person I’m allowed to care about? I have people that I miss, Jamil. That I’ve been missing. I had a life before this school, sorry that hurts your feelings so badly.” He hadn’t expected you to get so angry with him. 
“I didn’t mean-” “I had a life. A life without magic and overblots. Where I didn’t spend every waking moment waiting for something else bad to happen. Where people didn’t want to fight me just for existing, and I wasn’t almost constantly in some kind of trouble or danger.” You’re crying now too, and you turn your back to him as you continue. “I can’t do it. I can’t stay. There’s nothing good for me here.” “What…what can I do? There’s has to be something I can do-” “No, there isn’t. I’m leaving tomorrow and that’s that. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”
“I…I told you, I love you!” “And I told you I love you, but I can’t do this for you!” You wipe your face as you turn to face him again. “You think I’m happy about leaving you? Of course I’m not! But I’m not going to suffer here for your sake. I have to do this, for me. Why can’t you understand that?!”
And in that moment, he finally did understand. You didn’t want to hurt him. You weren’t trying to, you just needed to look out for yourself. He couldn’t blame you for that. You said you loved him, and he believed you. He watches you sniffle in front of him and put your face in your hands. He feels remorse for how this world has treated you, and guilt for not getting what you really meant at first. Yes, he understands perfectly. 
It was the rest of the world that was the problem. You could be happy in Twisted Wonderland, you just didn’t know it. With Crowley and overblots and other stress always wearing you down, of course you didn’t think you could stay. If you were constantly hurting, how could he expect you to?
But, why hadn’t you just said that from the start? If you knew how much you meant to him, didn’t you also know just how far he’d go for you? The mountains he would make move? The people he’d dispose of? Wouldn’t you do the same for him?
Of course, you would never have to do the same for him. He would do everything, take care of everything. Nothing would keep you two from each other. All you had to do was be with him and be happy. He could make that happen, he was sure of it.
He decides that those kinds of plans don’t matter right now, though. What matters most is that you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life, and he isn’t going to let you.
“Look at me.” “Jamil, I’m done with this. I-”
“I get that, okay? Just…please, look at me one more time.” He was pleading, and his voice sounded so terribly dejected. You sigh again. You lift your head up from your hands and meet his eyes.
“I told you, I’m sorry. I really am. I-” “Snake Whisper. Follow me. You’re not going through that mirror.”
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deathbxnny · 6 months ago
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hello hello! platonic blade, aventurine and dr ratio with a severely chronically ill teen!reader? like they are prone to passing out and vomiting, and are often bedridden
Sorry for taking so long for this, anon, and thank you for the request!! I hope you'll like this!!<33
Content: Mentions of an unnamed chronical illness, non-descriptive vomiting, blood, angst, teen reader, platonic relationships, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!!
((Not fully proofread))
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》DR. VERITAS RATIO
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Ratio tries his best to be strong and stern in the face of the inevitable and progressing sickness that was destroying your young body unfairly. It drove him near insane that he couldn't find a long-term cure for it, despite his high intelligence. And so, he simply focused on your comfort instead.
He tries to make your life as easy and accessible as possible. Ratio knows how important it is for you to still be able to do some kid things whilst you still can and therefore attempts to give you those possibilities whenever he can. He's glad that he can use his intelligence to create solutions for anything you want to do but may not be able to on your own.
Despite not looking like it, he doesn't mind staying up with you whenever your sickness is truly killing you on bad days. He has a hard time looking at you when you're suffering, but does his best to be reassuring and calming, even when he finds that difficult. He's used to simply giving solutions and facts to problems. But even so, he'll be right there for you when you need him, no matter how bad things get.
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》AVENTURINE
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Your suffering kills him on the inside. It really does. He can't bear knowing that you were suffering so immensely without him being able to do anything about it. And despite how much it destroyed him emotionally, he never let his smile slip around you. He knew how important it was that you knew you could rely on him fully without being afraid or ashamed.
Aventurine is glad that he has all the money needed to take care of you perfectly on his own. He spoils you greatly. No matter what it is you want or need, he'll give it to you with no further questions as long as it makes you smile. He sees himself in you in a way and wants to make sure that you have a much happier childhood than he ever did, despite your unfortunate circumstances.
He also practically hires every doctor in the universe to see if there is a way to find a cure anyway. He won't give up on you and could easily bet his life on the fact that he WILL find one. It doesn't matter how much it takes or how long and hard he'll have to work for it. You will lead a healthy and happy life even if he suffers for it.
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》BLADE
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Despite what people may think, he understands and respects your chronical illness due to Firefly. And whilst your sickness isn't necessarily the same, the pain and suffering you both go through was alike. This made it easier for him to handle it, especially as he didn't let the discomfort he felt during your harder days ever show on him. He doesn't mind if you have to depend on him fully for most things, even if he'll never say it outloud. His actions say enough.
With that said, he does his best to keep you out of the Stellaron Hunters business whenever you can barely stand. The job is challenging as it is for a kid your age, and he therefore will not so rudely tell you to stay in bed and rest. Kafka teases him for caring so much for you, which he denies and simply states that you were needed for the team... but he, too, knew it was a lie. It was clear when he brought you small trinkets or food that he thought you may like. It may not be much, but it's enough for you to smile even on bad days.
His condition is also seemingly incurable, so perhaps he relates to you in some ways, which makes you two bond greatly over it. And whilst there may be no cure for him except for death, he'll attempt to find you one so you can continue living on for him. He considers that fair.
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mariacallous · 8 months ago
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I plan on voting for Biden in November.  But it’s terrible.  A vote for him is still a vote that will not significantly improve our deepest and most troubling social problems.  He won’t give us Medicare for All or any other badly needed boosts to social programs.  He will probably continue to support policies that actively oppress BIPOC.  He will not help us.  He’s also a sexual predator.  Truly, I do not want to vote for this man.  This is not the man I wanted to vote for.  I don’t want him in office.  He is simply not good enough.  This man doesn’t represent what I want at all.
But if I don’t vote for Biden in November, I feel like I’m making it that much easier for Trump to win another election.  And I want that even less than I want a Biden presidency.  I don’t want another 4 years of what we have now.  No fucking way.  No.
I’m so conflicted.  I feel like there is blood on my hands.  I feel like I’m casting a vote for death and misery if I’m not voting for a progressive candidate with a progressive platform.  I feel like I’m committing nothing short of an atrocity no matter what I choose to do.  I don’t want to harm people, and yet, won’t I essentially be doing exactly that?  I just want to do the right thing.  I don’t want to bring harm, or perpetuate harm towards anyone.
Trump will probably win anyway.  He’s doing all he can to ensure that, and it will probably work.  The impending climate disaster will kill us all because we will clearly continue to do nothing.  Our bodies will be riddled with micro and nanoplastics.  America will become an even more of an inhospitable police state.
 Nobody will hold Biden accountable for anything if he wins, and he’ll never give us the public policies we desperately need. 
“Is this what hope feels like?  I’d forgotten,” you tweeted recently.  How?  And for what?  I see nothing but bad things to come.  I feel a deep sense of hopelessness and despair.
There are plenty of reasons to feel hopelessness and despair right now, but with regard to Joe Biden, you are wasting a whole bunch of negative emotions on a giant pile of shitty beliefs that just aren’t true.
First, and let me be very clear on this one, Joe Biden is not a sexual predator. He’s just not. Believe me, I would be shouting it from the rooftops if I thought he were. When Tara Reade went public, I took her allegations very seriously. I gave her extra helpings of the benefit of the doubt, but it turned out there was a mountain of evidence suggesting that Reade has always been a lying, manipulative grifter (which I didn’t want to be true), and there was another mountain of evidence suggesting that the predatory behavior alleged by Reade is simply not in Biden’s character (which I was very reluctant to trust). There was a time when I was hopeful that Reade’s accusations might even knock Biden out of the race, but I’m not the kind of person who believes a thing merely because I want it to be true. It’s fine if you want to criticize Biden for what appears to be a history of awkward or retrospectively inappropriate behavior. Hell, you can even buy into all that “Creepy Uncle Joe” bullshit, but you’re just plain wrong if you insist that Joe Biden is a sexual predator. (Obviously, the same cannot be said of Donald Trump, who is a straight-up serial rapist with a list of at least twenty-five women who have publicly and credibly accused him of sexual assault.)
As for your policy concerns, I understand your frustration. I would love to be voting for a far-left ultra-progressive firebrand of a candidate in the upcoming general election. That would feel wonderful, right up until the moment that she loses in a landslide, and I guarantee you, a far-left ultra-progressive candidate would get her ass handed to her by Trump. That’s not an outcome we can afford as a species, much less as a nation. You understand this, which is why you still plan on voting for Biden. Good. I’m really glad you’re not being a purist asshole about this. The evil garbage monsters in the GOP just love a left-wing purist who refuses to vote responsibly. Republicans are desperately praying to their imaginary white Jesus that all the Green Party crunch bars will fuck it up for the rest of us like they did back in 2016. We cannot let that happen again.
Listen, I’m not gonna try and convince you to like Joe Biden. You’re already gonna vote for him, so I’m perfectly fine if you hate his breathing guts. What I do want from you is a little maturity, some vision, and a realistic sense of scale. No one candidate will ever be the solution to our problems — not Bernie, not Liz, and certainly not Joe. At best, a candidate is a vector, a course correction, a desperately needed step in the right direction. That’s all we can expect from Biden, and he is bringing it. He’s bringing it every single day with a list of policy positions that are more progressive than any President’s in the history of the United States, and he most certainly brought it with the selection of Kamala Harris as his running mate.
Biden recognizes his place in history. He knows he is little more than a national stop-gap, a post-Trump tourniquet to stanch the bleeding. His Vice-Presidency and eventual Presidency will be a line of demarcation between two very distinct chapters of American history. This is more than just bridging the Boomer/Millennial generational divide. In the distant future (if we have one), it is my sincerest hope that Biden will be remembered as “The Last of the Old White Men,” a happy warrior who marked the end of a certain kind of Modern America and who helped usher in a new kind of Postmodern America. Those terms are clunky and loaded and absolutely will not stand the test of time, but we’re not the ones who get to name what we’re about to become. We’re the ones who have to keep doing the hard work to finally get us there, and that’s why I really need you to change your whole fucking attitude. 
This shit is going to be grueling. The fight will be brutal if not bloody, and there is absolutely no room for whiners and layabouts. You want to improve our deepest and most troubling social problems? Great. Quit moaning about doing harm with your vote and go do some actual good with your own two fucking hands. Pulling a lever in a voting booth every couple years is the bare minimum. In terms of civic duty, it is the absolute least you can do. Of course Biden won’t give us Medicare for All. Neither would Sanders or Warren. That’s not how any of this works. Presidents don’t give us shit. We do it ourselves. We demand it, loudly and with force, and over long stretches of time, with enough solidarity and sustained action, laws are enacted and policies change. 
I was around when the Clintons tried deadlifting their universal health care plan off the ground back in 1993. Maybe you remember it, maybe you weren’t even born yet, but that’s how long this shit takes. It’ll have been three fucking decades and two fucking generations of Democrats trying desperately to kick that gutbucket up Capitol Hill by the time we finally get around to some semblance of a single payer healthcare system. Thirty fucking years, my friend. That’s the kind of patience and perseverance the American experiment demands of us, so quit your fucking whining. Enough with all the pearl-clutching and hand-wringing. Take all your conflicted navel gazing bullshit and toughen the fuck up, buttercup.
You are on the right side of history. You are with the good guys. Quit your fucking bitching, and get out there and help us win.
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pressplay-if · 4 months ago
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This new chapter is so real. It made me remember many things i’ve forgotten from my hospital/treatment days. Not in a bad way but hitting quite close to home. One thing I remembered was how our doctors and counselors viewed friendships/relationships between patients. Communicating outside was pretty frowned upon and being in a relationship with another patient would get out kicked out at the very least. Anyway, the part that really hit was the phone call. The effect that continuing these relationships can have when both parties are in different places in their journey. It’s tough because you bond over something heavy something you might hide from others in your life. Something that is a big part of you, something that you struggle with. In a way it’s like you can be your true self. Without having to put up the facade to keep those around from being uncomfortable. It gives the friendship a sort of depth. But we all progress and heal at different rates. It’s not a one size fits all situation when in comes to treatment. I have been in both positions. Being the person stuck while others come and go. Then later having to move on needing to do what is best for me. It’s difficult for both. But hearing about relapses or certain thoughts from a friend. When you have finally found some stability or are close to falling back into old habits. It can be so triggering. Which makes you have to decide. Do I stick with this person who I connected with at my lowest point? When I am so easily reminded of things i’ve barely just moved on from. Or do I let go and focus on the future? It sucks either way. But it does explain why the doctors say what they say about patient relationships. Though I know it’s not like that for every situation. Anyway, sorry for so many words! I probably have more to say but imma chill out. Just wanna say WOW! Loving the story, it’s relatable(maybe I shouldn’t be too proud of that idk) and thought-provoking. Really got me thinking about things which I don’t normally do. And it ain’t actually that bad. Hope my words made sense. Great work👍🌈😃
So this was the first ask about the second chapter that I got and can I just say thank you?? 🙏
I was so nervous and reading this so soon after it came out was so immensely relieving to me. Back where I was, patient relationships didn't get you kicked out, but we did have a couple and everyone kinda knew they were together but refrained from addressing it bc we all just agreed it'd make things way too messy if we did. Even though, literally, everyone knew. Very much an Anthony/Abigail situation haha.
And yes, your words made a lot of sense to me and they're really appreciated. I, too, have been in both positions--- I think it might be a natural part of a lot of people in that "recovering from mental illness" cycle, even if it's a really unpleasant one. You create this bond over sth so horrible, and you understand each other, for as long as you're both suffering. Then when you start to move away from that, life gets easier but the friendship gets complicated. That's my experience, at any rate. I'm really glad to have hit close to home with this bc that's really what I was intending.
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intimidating-fettuccine · 6 months ago
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Hello! love your writing and couldn't wait to send in a request!
I wonder if I could request Eyeless Jack and his s/o who is experiencing a miscarriage - how would he react, act and try to help? Loved the one you did for Tim
This one is a bit more descriptive in the actual depiction of the miscarriage itself, since Jack is one of the doctors of the mansion. This also got way longer than I intended it to, oops, I hope you enjoy the angst.
Jack feels like he can't breathe the entire time it's happening. The two of you were curled up in bed with you asleep on his chest, his hands comfortingly rubbing your back as he began to drift off, at least... Until the smell of blood hit his nose, amplified by his demonic sense of smell. It was moments later that you woke up, and while he felt himself dissociating there were certain things he knows he'll never forget from that night. The overwhelming smell of your blood, the way your body trembled against him, the sound of your cries and screams filling the air in both distress and pain. He almost felt as though he was going through the movements in slow motion as he rushed you to the infirmary.
Others had rushed in to help simply from the volume of not only your cries but Jack's own cries, screams he wasn't able to process he was making. He did everything he could, but the outcome was clear to both of you as he cradled you to his chest as tightly as he ever had before, the two of you surrounded by everyone else as the news spread through the mansion. He couldn't breathe, couldn't calm down, he just knew he had to be there beside you, that he simply could not leave your side. He could hear you voicing where it hurt, hear you crying out for him, hear you crying out for your unborn child as you clung to him. That night was probably the most emotional night of Jack's life, and he couldn't help but internalize it, feel as though it was karma, life telling him that he didn't deserve the happiness he was trying to obtain, life trying to bring him back down and remind him he wasn't allowed things like this. Once the thought had passed his mind, he couldn't help but blame himself, blame his unluckiness, and think that your miscarriage was all his fault, even though you constantly reminded him it wasn't.
The two of you have a lot of comforting to do for each other in the months after the miscarriage. Jack does his best to comfort you through the turmoil of losing what would have been your first child with Jack, and you do your best to comfort him through his inner turmoil of blaming himself. No matter how much progress he makes I think a small part of his mind will always blame himself, even years in the future. He constantly replays the night of your miscarriage over and over and over again in his mind, trying to find if there was something he did wrong, or something he could have done differently, anything he could have changed, and of course, he knows the answer is no, that he didn't actually cause it, but his trauma ridden mind finds it so much easier to blame himself than to accept that it was just a natural occurrence. Despite his inner turmoil, he is there for you for every single step. Check-ups, making sure you're staying hydrated and eating, making sure you're caring for yourself in general. He rarely leaves you, all so he can make sure you're recovering and as healthy as you can be. It was painful enough to lose a child he never met, and he knows it would be infinitely more painful to lose you, the one constant good thing in his life.
He'll do everything in his power to keep you alive and healthy, and he knows you do your best to do the same for him. It'll be a while before you're back to a normal place in your relationship, but Jack will continue to support you to get the two of you there, no matter what, just as you will him. It hurts, and it's shitty, and he says it's probably the worst thing to happen in his life despite all the hell he's already been through, but he won't let anything tear him away from you, not even this. You're the most important thing in his existence, and he'd rather have you in his arms even if it means not having children. I feel as though, quite honestly, Jack becomes more resistant in general to the idea of having children after this, I think if anything he'd rather you both adopt. Once you lose your first unborn child, he gets too scared over the thought that a pregnancy could make him lose you, especially since he was the doctor who helped you through the miscarriage. He can't stand the idea of you going through that again or losing your own life from it, so at the very least, he doesn't want you trying again for kids for a very long time. He just needs you in his life to feel happy and fulfilled, and he's thankful that's even a possibility for him.
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cattlemons · 3 months ago
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heyy, it’s the anon that sent in the request about wanderer with a reader who has a bad relationship with their father :) if it’s alright maybe i can just go by 💿 anon? i have another kinda personal request, and again if you don’t feel comfortable writing it please let me know. 
I have a control freak mother, who is obsessed with our family looking perfect from the outside. for example, about a year ago i had plans to k!ll myself, and i broke down and told my mom, and her response was taking away my phone, computer, everything that i could communicate to people with. She called me an attention seeker and told me that i wasn’t allowed to tell anyone else about it.  
It can either be new or a continuation of my first request, whatever you feel like writing :) thanks so much, lovely <3
The Weight of A Memory
TW: Suicidal ideation, emotional distress, pretty sure there's a cuss somewhere, 1,7k words
a.n. can be read as a continuation to this but fine as a stand alone. More below for you, 💿anon
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“So, you’re saying it can work? Erasing a memory from the Irminsul, I mean,” you prodded the man beside you for what felt like the fiftieth time after his prior admission.
The wanderer’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance as he scoffed at your question; a desperate one he suffixes. 
“I only told you that because it seems plausible but even I don’t know the complexity behind the damn tree,” he hissed before adding a quiet “yet” to the back of his remark. 
“Honestly, I don’t think we can progress anymore on this topic,” the aloof puppet gruffed out, “the best we can do at this point is to abandon the title entirely and find an object much easier to study than the Irminsul. It’s a massive retrospective joke that we thought ‘Selective Memory Alteration via Mental Connection to Irminsul’ would be a good research title. We can’t even get access to the tree, much less experiment on it.”
He’s definitely right, but you can’t bring yourself to agree, not when he just alluded to the possibility. 
“We don’t have to gain direct access, we can just connect through the meditational route, you know, incense and the likes?”
The Wanderer let out a mocking snort as he looked at you like you’d said the most absurd thing he’d ever had the privilege to hear. 
“The ‘meditational route’ you throw around so easily takes years to hone, idiot, it’s not just smelling salts and candles. You’re a researcher of the esteemed Akademiya and this is your idea? I don’t want to be that person but it looks like you’re desperately clinging onto a failed idea.”
On a normal day, you would know well enough that he’s only trying to dissuade you from wasting your time on something pointless but, unfortunately, for both you and him, today has been an absolute shitfest for you. Where you’d normally sigh at his crass way of speaking, today you decide to one-up him and say some rather nasty things as well. 
You suppose it’s only fair that monkeys see, monkeys do. 
But what started off as annoyance quickly turned into genuine anger as more ugly words and defined poison spewed out of what was supposed to be a discussion session on your research. He said some painful things and, admittedly, you did too. It, soon, spiraled out of both of your control as things started getting painful especially when he asked what all this insistence was for. 
“Why are you so hellbent on going through with this title–and don’t you dare tell me it’s just because it interests you! You’re much too smart to make such a lame excuse.”
You were silent as embarrassment leaked from the corner of your eyes because truly you did not know. 
Or, rather, you did. You just didn't want to admit it to him. 
Taking what you hope are your things, you rush out of the grand hall, passing by the walls of books and scrolls. You need to get out of there before it suffocates you alive, whatever ‘it’ may be.
The Avidya Forest is a good ways away from the main city of Sumeru but The Wanderer took it all one stride at a time, all in the name of tracking you down. 
Truthfully, in the empty echoes of the cavity he calls his heart, he feels bad for the things he’s said. He knows he shouldn’t have questioned you too harshly, not when you seemed so unsure of it in the first place, but he needed to know why you wanted this so badly; partially because of the intuition he spent millennials sharpening told him to and the other half because he’s seen this desperation before, back when he donned red, black, and gold. 
He followed the path he’s sure you must’ve taken and started guessing when the beaten path petered off. 
He was right to place his bets on the left fork because he found what he was looking for, albeit not in the condition he was hoping for. 
You were hunched over under a tree, clearly sobbing.
The Wanderer almost scoffs at how pathetic this all was, more so his insistence to come find you than your evident sadness. 
Making sure to step a little louder, he made his presence known. He hopes you’ll extend an olive branch of sorts and start the conversation but he supposes it’s too much to expect such mercy after how the situation unfolded. 
He sat beside you but you made no effort to acknowledge his existence, much less be forgiving. He’s fine with it. If you won’t talk, he’ll just have to talk for the both of you. He’s not particularly good at discerning human emotions but you mirror a certain grief he’s experienced three times too much. So, even though he’s probably extremely behind the curve in expressing human sympathy, he can, at least, offer the empathy of a hurt soul. 
“I don’t know what the fuck happened to you but the divine can’t fix it for you, you know. It’s stupid and damn near fruitless to place your hard-earned hopes on a tree. I don’t know what you’re trying to fix but whatever it is you’re trying to erase, I guarantee it'll bite you back in the end if you do it this way.”
He expected at least another hour-long silence but you took the bait and he’s grateful that you did; even if it did hurt him a bit to see the effects his words had on you. 
“You know what’s stupid? Not telling me how you know all of this. How do you know I'm trying to erase something? How do you know it won’t work? How do you know it can’t fix the hurt I’ve been through? How in all Teyvat do you know forgetting won’t make things better because I am about 99% sure I’d be much happier if I don’t remember the attempts I cry about at night,” you heaved as a wave of heaviness you did not know you carried wracked through you. 
You’re not quite sure how he’s got you to open up about your father once before but, damn it, he’s going for another record by digging deep into your personal hardships. 
He stayed silent in what you assumed to be stunned silence but by the time you turned your head to look at him, his eyes carried no surprise, they carried a shared sorrow instead. That’s when you knew that this whole debacle was a mirrored event for him. Something he witnessed himself go through and is now witnessing in you. Epiphany struck like thunder because now you know that's probably how he knew what you were planning; he's done it once before.
If you had any piece left to break in your heart, you’re sure it’d break for him too.
“You’ve tried it before, haven’t you? Erasing a memory in the Irminsul?”
Your question was met with a mocking scoff but unlike the last time he did it, this one was targeted towards himself.
“I’ll do you one better, I tried erasing myself off of it.”
You greeted his admission with silence, you’re not quite sure if it’s some sort of absurd understanding or profound shock. The man beside you has not only tempered with the Irminsul by erasing himself but lived to tell the tale. You have no clue what would drive someone to do such a drastic measure but you realize, in a way, you were not much different. 
“I was abandoned by my creator, by the people I ate and drank with, by a god and by its maker and the pain made me bitter so I tried it yet I’m still here. I know that the whole research is just a facade for your true goal.”
You can’t help but avert your gaze, caught red-handed. 
As you let his words sink in, your realize the hope you once carried were diminishing by the second. A weight dropped onto your shoulder making you curl into yourself even more. You held yourself in a shoddy attempt at mimicking some comfort.
“So, there’s no end to this, is there? Not even the Irminsul can help me,” you asked, sullen and all of a sudden so tired of everything. 
He let the quiet fester just long enough to have you break down again. He did not mean for more tears to fall from your eyes but he’s not sure how to tell you that there was no hope in the Irminsul to fix your hurt. How should he phrase what he thinks you need to hear?
“There is no way for the Irminsul to help you, us. Even if you forget, there’s no assurance it won’t come back to your mind and make things feel ten times worse,” he tells you in a tone so close to a whisper. 
He watched as you sobbed at how futile everything was, how hard it all was. 
He let you grief for your loss of an easy way to happiness.
“But I won’t say there’s no way out.”
You looked at him, your tear-filled human eyes meeting his glass puppet ones.
“It’s a lot of effort, much more than I’d like to give sometimes. Hell, it took a god and some otherworldly intervention to get me back to the baseline of a decent human,” he laughed pitifully, “but it’s possible. If it is for me, I don’t doubt for a second it is for you too.”
His words did little to ease the barrage of tears streaming past your cheeks but amidst the throes of emotion, it comforted you, much like the weight of a blanket on top of a sore body, a heaviness that seeks to drown out the sorrow instead of crush the happiness. 
You looked away to wipe the snot and waterworks away. You wanted to thank him and maybe say your fair share of apologetic lines but when you turned back around to face him, he was gone. 
The tree branches swayed as the wind rustled the leaves off of their seat on the bark. On the space that he occupied just a few seconds ago were some of the stuff you must’ve left back when you rushed out of the Akademiya and amongst it was a small note. It wasn’t the neatest of handwriting and it was a crude, almost cold letter (if it even counted as one considering it consisted of only a few words) but it brought a tiny spark of warmth into your heart.
I’ve done it before. I believe in you.
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To 💿anon, I'm so sorry this took so long. My exams drained my energy and I did not want to write you something half-assed so I waited until my schedule cooled down a bit to continue where I left off. Just like last time I hope this brings you some comfort and if you need to share please feel free. Much love <3
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mononijikayu · 7 months ago
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demonyo — ryomen sukuna.
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For the first time in a long time, you see beyond Sukuna’s stoic exterior, glimpsing the depth of his emotions beneath the surface. It's a revelation that leaves you reeling, realizing just how much he has come to rely on your presence in his life, whether he admits it or not.
GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;
WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Miscarriage, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Miscarriage, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;
masterlist
ashes of love
song: demonyo by juan karlos
ko-fi
note: i already pre-planned the writing for this for a while now, but i think the story is about to get worse now that its near its end. three more chapters before my favorite chapter in the series and probably the shortest??? we shall see. anyway, i love you!!! enjoy the story as always~
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MUCH HAD CHANGED FOR YOU. But you doubt that you would dare change anything about it. As you released the sigh you held for what seemed like years, your purple eyes seemed to shake as you tried to make sense of your reality. It had been more than ten years since you last saw Sukuna. Ten years since he had left you and your world. Ten years more as mother, wife, clan leader, consort — all the things you had not expected all those years ago. All these things you still were, all these things you suffer to be. 
You looked to your side and felt your eyes narrow in a somber manner. You hadn’t left the lord’s chambers in days now. You just could not bear to do it. Not when Suzaku needed you. You sit in your husband’s chambers for days on end, tending to him as he lay there in painful agony. These days, you think your husband is waiting for fall. He stares from his futon with those weary eyes, hoping for that day where the leaves would be dying, just like himself. 
You look at him worriedly as you squeezed the water out of the cloth. You turned to him and started to gently press the wet cloth to his body and slowly clean his body, for he is now unable to move. He had good days, where he could sit up well enough to read or eat. But most times, you read reports to him. And your son’s progress in training. 
It was hard to see how constrained Suzaku was by the pain and anguish. Most days, it was easier not to look at him. Most days, you wished you could take a moment to process everything. But you knew you couldn’t. You could not leave him to the whims of his pain. Even when he asks you to, you could not. He had been nothing but good to you. He had given you peace, with everything he had done in nearly twenty years of marriage. And even this you were was not enough to repay all he had done for you and your children.
These past ten years have been relatively peaceful for all of you. The war weighed down to skirmishes and occasional battles. The Zenin were not to end their wanting and the Kamo were not one to forget a slight. The Fujiwara had moved from both the Ryomen lands and their own, having been incinerated as a clan by Sukuna. 
As you continue to tend to him, memories of Sukuna flood your mind. The last time you saw him, his presence had been a dark shadow over your life. Yet, in the decade that followed, you had found moments of light amidst the darkness. You had rebuilt, you had nurtured, and you had loved fiercely. Hida is back in Ryomen control and over this decade, your leadership has grown the Ryomen back to its power.  
But you were not a fool to forget that you now share it in a quiet agreement with Sukuna. These ten years, he had built a shrine on the opposite side of Hida, and people had flocked to him by the hundreds. He had the name after all and that gives him legitimacy across Hida. You knew very well that his Jujutsu….does not compare to anyone. And more than ever, growing powerful every single day. 
The agreement with Sukuna, though uneasy, had held. You did not seek him out, and neither did he. You knew better than that as much as he did. He had killed more sorcerers than you could count. And your world of sorcerers would not take to that kindly. They never have. Deviants are shunned. They are nothing but the fallen ones and these days, they whisper about him being the ‘disgraced one’. The remaining Ryomen elders had been glad to get rid of him, yapping about how this saves the clan from ruin. You did not agree with them. Even after all this time. But you knew that you can never take back what was lost. You were no fool. And neither was he.
When you were not in Hida, you were in Gojo lands. Ghosts haunted you, but at the very least you could distract yourself from them. With your husband’s efforts, there could only be peace. And with that peace, your children have grown up well and happy, surrounded by a bubble that keeps them from the worldly affairs that they need not worry over. 
Your eldest, Seiryuu, was now four and ten, nearly a man to all that were around him. He had grown taller than ever before. You were certain that he would grow and tower over those around him. His powers had grown over the years, more than ever this past year — obsessively.  Masako had grown finely, with her dark hair echoing like shining charcoal. In only ten summers, she had grown to be quite a beautiful tender young girl. You kept her away from Jujutsu a little while longer, but her cursed technique had started to manifest little by little.
You gently wipe your husband’s brow with a damp cloth, feeling the heat of his fever through the fabric.This was a regular occurrence, one that had only increased his pain and discomfort. At first, you were concerned and you still were — but even with your efforts, his fevers would not leave him. This had become a new part of his life.  
Suzaku’s once-strong hands now lie limply at his sides, the strength that had carried you through so many battles now drained away. The same hands that had held yours in your hardest times, the hands that had held yours at each birth, the hands that had carried your children. His warm eyes, though clouded with pain, still hold a flicker of the determination that once defined him. You could see his will to live. He does not want to leave yet, you knew. Not until Seiryuu was old enough. 
You could only sigh as you returned the damp cloth back into the basin. From the outside, life continues. The sounds of children playing in the distance, the chatter of villagers going about their day, and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze all seem to mock the stillness within these walls. Your husband had lived for those echoes of life when he himself could not get up. He says that it reminds him of when your children were younger. It reminds him to live, to know life. 
"Rest some more, husband." you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. "You must gather your strength. The children miss you.”
You could feel his eyes, though dimming, reflect a deep sense of peace in your words. It has been hard to keep the children away from your husband. You did not want them to see him in pain and he knows that too well too. But the mention of them makes him want to live. It always does. You know he worries about leaving you and the children behind, but you have always been strong. Stronger than you ever thought possible.
As your husband’s breathing grows more labored, you feel the weight of all you have endured together. The battles fought, the tears shed, and the laughter shared. The peace you had enjoyed with your children together. You take a hold of his sullen hands and squeeze it, your tears mingling with the sweat on his skin. You want him to know that you will be here.
"We will be alright, Suzaku." you say, more to reassure yourself than him. "We will be alright."
In the silence that follows, you exchange looks. His ever tender, as it always was.The world outside may continue to change, but within these chambers, time stands still, suspended in what time remains for the two of you. You find solace in this moment. Or at least you can try. The worries of the wily world keep knocking you down to only worry.
But you could not help but worry. You were a mother more than anything else. Your husband’s condition loomed over all of you. And the possibility that he could die any time soon, when your son was still but a boy and without the expertise of his father worried you. And your husband knew that. Much of the consequences of his death would be a blow to you and your children.
A year ago, your perfectly healthy husband had brought your son with him to quell a cursed spirit that was plaguing the region. Your son was excited to be able to put his skills to the test, to make his father proud. Seiryuu was proficient in using his powers enough that he was able to fight against the cursed spirit’s lackeys. However, being overtaken by a flood of other curses, he did not notice his father’s need for aid. And your husband took the curse's full impact. From that moment on, your husband started to decline. Seiryuu had felt nothing but guilt over the matter. 
The people of the clan started to whisper about his ability to be the heir. If Seiryuu could not protect his father, how can he protect the clan? The boy with the six-eyes and he could not do his duty, his most important filial duty. Those are their whispers. And it breaks your heart over and over. But your son was only a fourteen-year-old boy. He was still a boy—even if the world saw him as a grown man. And you feared for him.
Factions have started to appear in the Gojo clan, including that of Suzaku’s own cousin. If the time came to fight for your son’s rights, you knew that you could be overwhelmed. The voice in your head started to tempt you to use your powers, whispering that you could defeat all the clans by yourself, with destruction. But you vowed to never do that. You didn’t seek the destruction of all, but peace. The voice laughs at you, telling you that this train of thought will get you killed. You do not reply.
As you tend to your husband, you glance at Seiryuu, standing at the doorway, his shoulders slumped. You could see the boy in him so clearly. He felt that heavy weight of guilt and worry. He looks so much older than his years, burdened by the weight of expectations and the whispers of the clan. 
He lowers the tight cloak of those bandages around his eyes. His cerulean eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see the frightened child he truly is, hidden behind the mask of forced maturity. Your husband looks at you and nods at you. You narrow your eyes at him, as though telling him that you could not leave you. But he squeezes your hand. You purse your lips and nod at him. You turned to a servant and smiled at them. 
Closing the door behind you, you take your son in your arms to embrace him. He slowly succumbs to your touch. He felt so small in your arms, as though he was not the one who had shaken the world with his birth. He was just a boy, a boy who had so much of his youth ahead of him. And he is robbed of it by the world which does not understand. You kiss the top of his head with tender abandon. 
"Mother….I…." he says softly, his voice trembling. "Is Father... will he...?"
You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Your father is strong, my son. He fights for us, for you. We must be strong for him too.”
Seiryuu nods, but you can see the doubt in his cerulean blue eyes. He blames himself for his father's condition, and the clan's murmurs only deepen his self-reproach. He does not feel confident in himself, to truly be worthy of his father’s seat. To be worthy of even being his son. You could see it in his eyes. And you hate it. You wish you could shield him from their harsh judgments, but you know that he must face this trial as you have faced your own.
"Remember, my dearest boy," you say, your voice firm but gentle, "you are not alone. We stand together, as a family, as a clan. You will grow stronger, and you will prove them wrong. You are already worthy. Your father has told you that.”
“But mother, I….”
You shake your head at him, looking him in his eyes. You smile. “You are our pride, my son. Always remember that.”
He nods again, more resolute this time, but the worry does not leave his eyes. “I will remember.”
“You must go and get some rest.” You whisper, squeezing his shoulder. “I heard you were up all night trying to master your reversal technique.”
“I am fine, mother.” He insists as he tries to wipe your worry with his smile. “Not entirely exhausted as of yet. I plan to go and continue—”
“I don’t want you to cause yourself hurt.” You interject to him. “I want my son well. Please rest for a while at least. Soothe your mother.”
He purses his lips, almost like a child. He slowly nods. “Alright, mother.”
When he left, you return to your husband’s chambers. You turn back to your husband, sitting down beside him and wiping his brow once more. The voice in your head grows louder, taunting you with promises of power and control. It tells you that with your abilities, you could crush all opposition, and ensure Seiryuu's place as heir beyond any doubt.
But you push the voice away, focusing on your husband and your son. You have vowed to seek peace, not destruction. Even if it means facing overwhelming odds, even if it means standing against the very whispers that threaten your family, you will not falter. You will not give in.
The voice laughs again, mocking your resolve. "This train of thought will get you killed, little fool." it hisses.
You do not reply. Instead, you draw strength from the loyalty you have for your husband and the love you have for your children, from the hope that despite the challenges, you can still find a path to peace. You will stand firm, for them, for the future you believe in. And no matter what the voice says, you will not be swayed.
Suzaku has fallen asleep again.
You place the wet towel away.
You sit patiently, as you always do.
And you pray to the gods for your relief.
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IT WAS A NICE DAY OUT. It was one of his good days, and he had been cheerful. Suzaku had enough strength to sit up and talk. When he sat up, he looked at you and smiled. He pointed towards the outside. You worried about the strain on his body. But you could not deny him such pleasure, to explore your home. You hooked his arm around your own as you helped him up. When servants passed you, you refused their help. You could help your husband there. Little by little, you helped him take a walk towards the vast expanse of the koi gardens. 
As the two of you strolled among the greenery around the serene waters and the swimming koi, the sun was shining. The sun was beaming like never before. It was a good day, you think. It was not too cold, just warm enough. And your husband was in good spirits. For the first time in a while, you could see life in his eyes once again. The smile on your lips tethered tenderly. 
Gojo Suzaku sits down on one of the edges of the benches. You gently hold him as you too lower your body and sit beside him. You sighed as you let the wind kiss your face with great abandon. When you turn to your side, your husband smiles at you too. But the look in his eyes  tells you that he can feel it—that he would soon die. You want to tell him not to leave you. You want to tell him that he would live a long life. But you know that he would only laugh.
Your husband then coughs, the sound harsh and grating. You look at him with concern, and he smiles at you, a weary but warm expression. He waves you off as your eyes dilate in panic. He squeezes your hand and tries to settle you back into a calm. 
“You worry too much.” His first words echoed in your head. It had been so long since you had heard his words be this clear. 
“I can’t help it.” You admitted to him as you let out a sigh. “I am your wife. And a wife worries about her husband.”
"Don't worry, my love," he says softly, his voice still tinged with humor despite the gravity of his words. “I’m not feeling too bad.”
“Your coughing is still painful to you.”
“Not too bad.” He says, downplaying it with a smile. “It’s not bad.”
You glare at him. “You are a pathetic liar.”
He laughs in reply. “It is not a lie. It’s not bad, because you’re here.”
You couldn’t help but shrug at him. “Nearly twenty years of marriage and you have not changed.”
He smiles. "Has it been that long?”
You hummed to him as the wind brushed against you. “Hm, it has been.”
“It feels only like yesterday when we got married.”
You smiled at him. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Silence enveloped the two of you, a heavy shroud that settled between you like an unspoken barrier. Suzaku's gaze lingered on the horizon, his eyes following the graceful flight of a heron as it soared effortlessly through the sky. The sight seemed to capture his attention, drawing him into a moment of quiet contemplation amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling around you both. The heron wanted to be free. 
In the stillness of the night, the sound of the heron's wings slicing through the air echoed softly, a soothing melody that provided a brief respite from the weight of the world pressing down upon your shoulders. It was as if time itself had paused, allowing you to simply be, to exist in this moment of serene tranquility.
“I've had a good life, thanks to you."
You shake your head, refusing to accept his resignation. "Husband, please. You mustn't talk like that. You'll be with us for many more years."
He gently squeezes your hand, his touch as familiar and comforting as ever. "We both know that's not true. But it's alright. I’ve come to terms with it."
A lump forms in your throat as you watch him, the man who has been your rock and your partner through so much. "I can't lose you, not yet." you whisper, your voice trembling.
"I know you have worries about the growing divide in the Gojo clan," he says, his voice softer now, "and I worry that, unlike all these years before, I cannot be as strong as before to protect the three of you from it.”
"You have done more than enough, Suzaku." you reply, your voice firm with conviction. "You always have."
He pauses, looking out over the garden, his eyes distant with memories. "Do you remember, years ago, when I told you that Sukuna and I spoke?”
You nod, the memory bringing a bittersweet smile to your lips. “You never told me what you talked about.”
“Sukuna told me to be more honest about my feelings for you.” He reveals, watching your face contort into a puddle of emotions. “And all this time, I should have been more honest with you.”
Suzaku reaches out, brushing your loose hair back behind your ear. "I love you, wife." he says, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than the world knows, more than you do."
"I love you too. I hope you know." you respond, your voice breaking.
He smiles, shaking his head gently. "I know you will never love me as much as you do Sukuna. But I’m more than satisfied with the wonderful life we have had together. Nearly twenty years of a happy marriage—I am thankful for all of it. Because you took care of me, accepted me for what I was. You loved a man whole, made more of his life than anything else.”
You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your cheek. Your eyes narrow, their color deepening to an even more intense shade of purple. "You’ve given me a life I never thought possible, Suzaku. I’ve cherished every moment."
He closes his eyes, savoring the closeness, the tranquility of the garden surrounding you. "Promise me you'll continue to be strong, for Seiryuu, for our family."
"I promise," you whisper, your voice thick with unshed tears.
Suzaku opens his eyes, looking at you with a depth of love and understanding that transcends words. "Thank you," he murmurs. "For everything."
You stay like that for a while, leaning into each other, drawing strength from the bond you share. The koi swim lazily in the pond, their movements a gentle reminder of the cycles of life and the beauty that can be found even in moments of sadness. You sighed as you leaned against him. He smiles as he lays a kiss upon your cheek.
As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the garden, you and Suzaku stay that way for as long as you could. The two of you just enjoy the silence that remains in the veil of the golden light. You were certain that the weight of the future looms large, but in this moment, you find solace seeing him like this. You banish the world from everything else. You just sit there with him. You take in what remains before it’s too late. And with that, you fell asleep beside him.
The next day, it was quite a surprise to you. Gojo Suzaku was still as he was yesterday, his frailty more pronounced in the morning light. You sit up beside him, holding his hand as he gathers the strength to speak. You wanted to say something, but you could see it, how he wanted to say something to you. And so you sat there, silent and let him gather his strength to say it all out loud.
“You must leave for Hida tomorrow.”
Your face scrunches into confusion. “Why must we leave for Hida–”
“Live on after me, wife.” Suzaku says softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination. “Take care of the children, and most of all, find happiness when I am gone.”
Tears well up in your eyes, but you manage to keep your voice steady. “Don’t talk like that, Suzaku. You'll still be with us for a long time yet.”
He shakes his head gently, a sad smile on his lips. “I’ve made plans to ensure that Seiryuu will be my successor. No one will challenge him.”
“It’s not as easy as you say, husband.” you reply, your concern evident. “The clan is divided. There are factions, and Seiryuu is still so young.”
“It will be easy.” Suzaku insists, squeezing your hand with the little strength he has left. “Leave it all to me. I’ve arranged everything.”
“Suzaku, please—”
"You don’t have to worry," he says with a reassuring smile. "I’ve taken care of everything."
"But whatever you’re planning, I cannot accept it." you reply, your voice firm. "We have to do it together. As we always have.”
Suzaku sighs and places a gentle kiss upon your head. "This is my last wish, you know." he says softly. "Please, let me do as I please."
Your lips fall into a line, wanting to argue, but the earnestness in his eyes stops you. You nod reluctantly, tears threatening to spill. "If that is what you wish." you whisper. "I’ll let you."
He smiles, relief washing over his features. "Thank you. I will miss you, but it’s time for you to return to Hida with the children. I don’t want you to see me die."
The finality of his words stabs at your heart, but you know he’s trying to spare you pain. "You will not die, I refuse to believe it….I…”
"Please, wife. Do as I instruct." he interrupts gently. "Do it for the peace of my soul.”
You nod again, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. He pulls you into a tender embrace, holding you close as if to memorize the feel of you one last time. You stayed like that until you could not anymore. The rest of the day, you had ordered quietly for your son and daughter to be informed and your entire household to be readied for the journey. 
You were not ready to lose your husband, not like this. You watched him laugh all night, telling little quips and singing little tunes despite his coughing fits. He wrote many things that night, but he refused to let you see them. Yet you were certain that he was preparing himself for what may come. You bit your lower lip, as you struggled to put away those tears from pouring through your eyes. You stilled yourself as you retired to your chambers. You cry and cry until there is nothing left to let out from your purple eyes.
When you emerged in the morning, your servants had tried to not let their faces notice your devastation. You dressed in your finest junnihitoe for him. You put all of your most beautiful suberakashi rested upon the foundation of your long dark hair. Your hiōgi was the most elegant of cypress wood, painted in beautiful herons flying over the river. Your husband had made it for you all those years ago, and it was your favorite. You wanted to look good for him. You wanted to make sure that he knows that he is leaving you well. That you would be fine, even if you would not truly be. You wanted him to know.
He was assisted by his servant in standing as he met you and the children out in the courtyard. Seiryuu stood tall and proud before his father. He was dressed in his finest kariginu bearing the Gojo clan symbols against the heron of the Ryomen. His little sister stood beside him, diligently in her silk kimono covered with herons standing above the Gojo family crest. 
The two of them lowered their heads as you passed them by. They seemed somber, but confident. But you had expected that. They loved their father the most in the world. And to leave him in such a state, they did not like it. But they adore you just as much and they will not let you go on your own. Not when you needed them too. You let go of your servant’s hand as you smiled at your husband.
The children and you say your goodbyes to Suzaku as you all prepare to return to Hida. You watch your husband bid farewell to your son and daughter for what you know will be the last time. He embraces them gently, whispering words of love and encouragement, his eyes filled with a deep, unspoken sorrow. Seiryuu tries to be strong, but you can see the tears he struggles to hold back. Your daughter clings to Suzaku, her small frame shaking with sobs.
When it is your turn, you take his hands in yours and press a kiss to them, feeling the warmth and strength that has always comforted you. Your eyes start to water, and you look up at him, seeing your own pain reflected in his eyes. He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes.
“You must take care to be well on your travels.” Your husband says to you tenderly, more than he had ever before. You smiled at him. “And make sure you will wear the furs I have arranged for you.”
“I will not forget them.” You promised him. You took his hand on your own. “You must take care of yourself. I won’t be able to do it for you.”
He laughs as he lifts your hand into his and places a kiss upon its palm. “I will always strive to please my wife. I shall.”
Your heart broke at those words. Because you knew that he would not. Not when his plan was in full motion. “I shall see you when I return.”
Gojo Suzaku sends a tight smile at you, one that was all too knowing. “I shall see you too.”
You look towards his hand, eyeing the matching rings upon both your fingers. You lifted your eyes, feeling them water. He squeezes your hand even tighter, as though to tell you to not spill your tears here. Not at this moment. Not in your farewell. You took a deep breath, as though to gather yourself fully.
"I love you, wife. Truly." he whispers, his voice breaking. "More than words can say."
“I love you, with everything in me." you manage to choke out, your tears flowing freely now.
"Be safe," he whispers, his voice breaking. 
He leans in and kisses your cheek one last time, a tender and lingering farewell. You can feel the finality of his touch, the weight of all the unspoken words between you. "I wish you a good journey," he says softly, "and that you will be happy."
You slowly nodded at him, your lip pursing into a tight line. “I will.”
He steps back, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination.  "I shall see you next, wife. One day.”
With a heavy heart, you turn to leave, guiding Masako towards her own litter. Suzaku got atop his horse and turned to look at his father and bowed his head. Masako sat upon her litter and glanced towards her father and waved. As you step inside your own litter, you glance back at Suzaku one last time. He stands there, a faint smile on his lips, his eyes following you with a mixture of love and resignation.
The door of the litter closes, and as it starts to move, the reality of the situation crashes down upon you. The tears you had held back now flow freely, and you start to sob, your shoulders shaking with the force of your grief. The children, sensing your pain, huddle close to you, their own tears mingling with yours.
This was the last time you would see your husband. The man who had been your rock, your partner, your love. As the litter carries you away from him, you clutch at the memories of your time together, vowing to honor his last wishes. The journey ahead seems daunting, but you draw strength from the love you shared, knowing that it will guide you through the days to come.
Suzaku’s smile was his last gift to you.
It will always linger in your mind for years.
When you step into Hida, you fall to your knees. 
The years of peace had disappeared in an instant.
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YOU WERE EXHAUSTED. You have not slept day after day. You could not, when there is so much more to be done. Your rest can wait. It had been more than two months now since the Gojo clan was plunged into civil war. You have been raising forces in Hida, ones that you promised to lead personally. For now, your trusted Mikoto Masaomi leads the vanguard that thrusts against possible attacks. 
It still has not hit you that you are now a widow. The news reaches you swiftly upon your arrival in Hida: The departed lord of the Gojo, Gojo Suzaku had used all his remaining strength to kill his cousins, their entire bloodline, and all those who conspired against him. The rest of those bloody traitors had gone and ran amok, but soon enough, your husband had died alone. You were certain that his body had been exhausted from all of it. And in the aftermath, Those treacherous letchers had usurped everything. Those loyal to your son had begun gathering in Hida, planning an offense to reclaim what rightfully belonged to Seiryuu.
The young rightful lord of the Gojo. young Gojo Seiryuu had been most inconsolable about his father's death. He refused to see anyone, even you. Guilt and grief gnawed at the young Gojo lordling, and he withdrew further into himself with each passing day. Masako, your daughter, continued to ask for her father, crying bitter tears when you had no answer for her. 
You grieved your husband as much as you could, but there was no time to rest. There was no space for you to show your grief too clearly. Not when there is a need to move. If you do not move further, you could lose everything. And even more, your children could lose their lives. You would not let that happen. Not over your dead body. 
As you sit in your chambers, the weight of your responsibilities pressing heavily on your shoulders. You write over and over to all your allies, trying to gather their support. The Inumaki as always were loyal to the Gojo and the Ryomen. You were seeking out the Azuma, another vassal of the Gojo, but there has yet to be a response. You could feel your head hurt. The voices in your head whispering the thoughts of a devil. But you would not succumb. You cannot. But then, a knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts. You turn your head, seeing long dark hair peer through the doors.
“Mother?” Masako’s small voice trembles from the other side.
“Daughter, it is late.” You whisper at her.
“I…I cannot sleep.” Her little voice admits to you tenderly.
You sighed and smiled at her. “Come in, little one.”
The door opens, and Masako enters, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She clutches a worn, little doll to her chest, her small frame trembling. You brush away the stray hairs that mar her eyes. She sniffs as she looks at you and you could not help but let out a small smile at her. She’s been having nightmares, you remembered. It hasn’t been easy on her lately, more so with those nightmares come in reminders of her own late father.
“Mother, where is father?” she asks again, her voice breaking. “Why won’t he come back?”
You swallow hard, forcing back your own tears as you hold her closer to you. “Masako, my darling girl, your father has gone to a place where we cannot follow. But he is watching over us, always.”
“But I miss him, mother.” she sobs, burying her face in your shoulder.
“I miss him too,” you whisper, holding her close. “But we must be strong. For him, and for Seiryuu.”
As you comfort Masako, a servant appears at the door, bowing respectfully. “My lady, the loyalists have gathered in the main hall. They await your instructions.”
You nod, rising to your feet and taking Masako’s hand. “Thank you. I will be there shortly.”
The servant leaves, and you turn to Masako, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “Stay here, my love. I must attend to something important.”
Masako nods reluctantly, her grip tightening on her toy. “Please come back soon, Mother.”
“I will,” you promise, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
In the main hall, the loyalists look to you with a mixture of hope and desperation. They need guidance, a plan, a way to reclaim their home and secure Seiryuu’s rightful place as the head of the Gojo clan.
“Thank you all for gathering here,” you begin, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. “We face a grave threat, but we are not without hope. My husband, lord Gojo Suzaku, sacrificed everything to protect this clan. Now, it is our duty to honor his legacy and fight for Seiryuu.”
A murmur of agreement ripples through the room, the tension palpable. The loyalists, a mix of seasoned warriors and young recruits, shift uneasily on their feet. Their faces are a tapestry of determination, fear, and hope. Some exchange glances, silently communicating their resolve and apprehensions. The flickering torchlight casts dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the somber atmosphere.
As you scan the room, you see familiar faces—men and women who have stood by your side through countless battles and hardships. Their loyalty is unwavering, but the uncertainty of the future weighs heavily on everyone. The silence that follows is thick, filled with unspoken fears and the gravity of the situation.
An older warrior, his hair streaked with silver, steps forward. His eyes are steely with conviction, but there is a softness in his gaze as he looks at you. "My lady, we have followed Suzaku through many trials. We will follow you and Seiryuu now. We are ready to fight for what is rightfully ours."
His words act as a catalyst, breaking the tension. Others nod, some murmuring agreements more audibly now. The room seems to draw in a collective breath, preparing for the arduous journey ahead.
“We must be strategic,” you continue. “We will reclaim what is ours, but we must do so wisely. Seiryuu will need our strength, our unity. Together, we can overcome this.”
One of the loyalists steps forward, his expression resolute. “We are ready to follow you, my lady. What are your orders?”
You take a deep breath, drawing on the strength Suzaku always saw in you. “Prepare our defenses and gather intelligence on the usurpers’ movements. We will strike when the time is right. For now, we must fortify Hida and protect Seiryuu.”
As plans are set into motion, you feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. You must be hopeful. You felt your age echo throughout your bones. It is as if you had aged a thousand years. As you walked towards the outer halls, you crossed your arms. You should have brought a padded haori. But you wanted to have this moment. You wanted to enjoy your lonesomeness. You wanted to have a moment to accept the reality you now faced.
You could feel the chilly air stab through your skin like sharp needles. There is no time to rest, but in the quiet moments, you allow yourself to grieve. In this moment, you let yourself take a deep breath and still yourself to your reality.  to remember the love and strength that Suzaku gave you. And with each passing day, you steel yourself for the battles ahead, determined to see Seiryuu restored to his rightful place. Looking at the far away moon, you pray that you could be successful. That you will succeed in honoring Suzaku’s memory and fight for your family’s future.
You blink as you still yourself. You were wondering if you were seeing an illusion. You stayed as you were as he observed you with those dark red irises. You purse your lips as your arms crossed against your chest, as though to shield yourself. You knew he would never hurt you. But you wanted to protect yourself. You were the most vulnerable you ever were. Before you could catch yourself, you found him standing before you. You lift your head to observe him. He has not changed. He still looked as he did years ago. He has not aged. 
He does not say a word to you as he sheds his haori off his prodigious body. Slowly, his four arms placed it around your shoulders. It was too big on you, you think. It covered almost all of you as a whole. But it was warm, as he always was. Sukuna watched as your hands dragged it closer to you, as though to secure it in place. 
“You’re foolish to not bring a cover for yourself.” Those were the first words he had for you in these many years. 
"Why have you come?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Even a runaway scum can come home when he misses home." he replies, his tone carrying a hint of melancholy. “Is that wrong?”
"You were never a runaway scum." you say softly, looking into his eyes. "Just a lost soul."
A pregnant silence passes between you, filled with unspoken emotions and shared history. The air is thick with memories, both bitter and sweet, that hang heavily in the space between you. The faint sound of the night—a distant owl hooting, the rustle of leaves in the wind—provides a stark contrast to the silent conversation unfolding in your hearts.
Your eyes meet, and in that moment, so much is conveyed without a single word. The pain of separation, the lingering affection, the regrets of things left unsaid. Sukuna's gaze is intense, yet there's a softness there that you've rarely seen. It's as if he's laying bare his soul, exposing the vulnerability he keeps so well hidden.
You remember the first time you met, the awkward yet exhilarating beginnings of your friendship. The battles fought side by side, the nights spent in quiet companionship, the stolen glances and fleeting touches that spoke of something deeper. All these memories swirl around you, forming an invisible bond that time and distance have never truly severed.
Sukuna shifts slightly, his posture stiff yet somehow more open than before. You can almost hear the words he's not saying, the apologies, the admissions of guilt and longing. Your own heart aches with the weight of unexpressed feelings. You want to tell him everything—how you missed him, how his absence left a void that nothing else could fill, how despite everything, you never stopped caring.
But the silence holds you captive, a barrier of fear and uncertainty. What if these words break the fragile peace between you? What if they open old wounds that have barely begun to heal?
Sukuna breaks the silence, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "I'm sorry for your loss."
You turn to face him fully, searching his face. "Do you mean it?"
He sighs, his gaze unwavering. "I did not like your husband, but he took care of you. And for me, that was the most important thing."
Your eyes fill with fresh tears at his words, the sincerity in them undeniable. "Thank you." you say, your voice trembling. "It means a lot to hear you say that."
Silence passes between the two of you. Tears pass through your eyes in an outburst, almost like the heightening tides of the seas in a storm. 
Sukuna reaches out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder. "You've been through so much. More than anyone should have to endure."
"You've been gone for so long," you say, your voice cracking. "And now everything is falling apart. The clan is in chaos, Seiryuu is lost in his grief, and Masako cries every night for her father."
You sigh wearily, taking a good look at Sukuna for the first time in a long time. He stands there, the same as you remember, unchanged by time. Despite everything, you manage a small smile. "You haven’t aged a day since I last saw you."
He tilts his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Jujutsu does have quite a lot of mysteries."
"You look as you did years ago," he says, his voice softer than usual.
You laugh, shaking your head. "Come up with a better lie, Sukuna. I continue to age, but you do not. You’ll outlive me soon enough."
For the first time, you see a flicker of emotion in Sukuna’s eyes. His usual mask of indifference slips, revealing a vulnerability you had never witnessed before. The realization that perhaps he does not think you could ever truly die and leave his life completely lingers in the air, unspoken but palpable.
It hurts him to see you like this. But he cannot let you know that. You would carry that weight with you and he does not want that. As he looked at you, he could see the life that he lives for. The moonlight shone all around you with a beautiful gleam. Nearly twenty years had passed and in all those years that grew within your human flesh, there will always be the soul he had fallen in love with. You were easily recognizable. And he would always choose you over the world.
There were times where Sukuna thought that you were just a pure creature who fell from the heavens and was lost in hell with him. Even after all this time, even as you had grown older, you still wanted to meet him. You would never shun him. Even if he chooses to stay away, you would let him return here, in this paradise. 
Even if he tried to lead you out of it, you would never leave. The demon he is, he could never escape his love for you either. as much as you would never escape your love for him. Over and over, he believes it as much as you probably do. He will always fall in love with you over and over again.
He looks away for a moment, composing himself. "You are stronger than you think, you know." he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper.
You reach out and place a hand on his arm, a small smile on your lips. "And you, Sukuna, are not as invincible as you believe."
He meets your gaze again, the intensity in his eyes softened by a hint of something deeper—regret, perhaps, or a fear of losing the one connection he has left.
"I’ve missed you." he admits, the words heavy with unspoken emotions.
"And I’ve missed you." you reply, your voice tender.
You smile at him like you used to, a gesture both familiar and foreign after all this time. It's a smile tinged with a hint of nostalgia, a softening of the edges that have formed between you over the years of separation. In that moment, the weight of the past seems to lift, leaving only the echo of what once was.
Your smile is a silent invitation, a bridge across the chasm that has grown between you. It speaks of shared memories, of laughter and camaraderie, of moments that time has not yet erased. It's a reminder of the connection you once shared, a glimmer of hope that perhaps it's not too late to reclaim what was lost.
For Sukuna, your smile is like a balm to his wounded soul. It's been so long since he's seen that smile directed at him, so long since he's felt the warmth of your affection. It stirs something deep within him, a longing that he thought he had buried long ago. In that fleeting moment, he allows himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could go back to how they used to be.
As he returns your smile, there's a softness in his eyes, a vulnerability that he rarely lets show. It's a silent admission of the myriad emotions swirling within him—regret, longing, hope. In that shared moment, you both let go of the barriers that have kept you apart, if only for a moment.
The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. It's a moment frozen in time, a brief respite from the chaos of your lives. And in that moment, as you smile at each other like you used to, you both know that no matter what the future holds, this connection between you will endure.
"You’ll outlive me soon enough," you say, the words laced with a hint of jest, but the weight of their truth hangs heavily on your heart. You don’t say it out loud, though. Instead, you offer him a gentle smile, a feeble attempt to alleviate the tension that simmers between you. “Time touches everything, but you, it would seem.”
"Don't say that," he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with a hint of desperation.
You pause, taken aback by the raw emotion in his tone. It's a rare moment of vulnerability from Sukuna, a crack in the facade he wears so meticulously. You meet his gaze, seeing something akin to fear flicker in his eyes—fear of losing you, fear of facing a future without your presence.
The contrast between your aging form and his eternal youth is a constant reminder of the passage of time, of the inevitability of mortality. It's a bitter truth that you both silently acknowledge, yet neither dares to confront head-on.
For the first time in a long time, you see beyond Sukuna’s stoic exterior, glimpsing the depth of his emotions beneath the surface. It's a revelation that leaves you reeling, realizing just how much he has come to rely on your presence in his life, whether he admits it or not.
Perhaps he has never truly considered the possibility of you leaving him, of your life coming to an end while his continues on unchanged. The thought is both comforting and terrifying, a reminder of the fragility of your mortal existence in contrast to his immortal nature.
As the weight of unspoken words hangs heavy in the air, you reach out, tentatively placing a hand on his arm. It's a silent gesture of reassurance, a reminder that even as time marches on and lives change, your connection remains unbroken.
“You will live a long life, I am certain.”
He looks at you, something unreadable in his gaze. "I don’t care about that. I care that you are with me now.”
"For as long as I can be, do not be greedy." you reply softly, as though telling him off. "But someday, I won’t be."
His expression hardens slightly, a defense mechanism against the pain your words bring. "I won’t let that happen." he says, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might make it true.
"You can’t stop time, Sukuna. Never." you say gently, turning to him with a small smile. 
"You were right," Sukuna finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. But he wishes you weren’t. He wishes he could change the inevitable, alter the course of fate so that he could keep you with him always. In that moment, he longs to lock away the world, to shield you from the passage of time and the cruelty of mortality. Even after all this time, his desire to be with you burns as fiercely as ever. But deep down, he knows that you would never allow it.
Silence once more envelops your world, a heavy shroud that settles between you. It's a silence pregnant with unspoken truths and unfulfilled desires, a reminder of the chasm that separates your two worlds. Despite the ache in his heart, Sukuna knows that he cannot defy the laws of nature, cannot change the fundamental truths that govern your existence.
And so, he remains silent, his thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of longing and resignation. He knows that even as he yearns to keep you by his side, to hold onto you with a desperation born of centuries of solitude, he must accept that some things are beyond his control. Your mortality is one such thing, a barrier that he cannot hope to overcome no matter how much he wishes otherwise.
In that moment, as you stand together beneath the moonlit sky in silence, Sukuna realizes that his love for you is both a blessing and a curse. He knows that one day, it will make him feel worse. More so when you are gone. It would fill him with a warmth and a joy that he has not known all his life, yet it also brings him anguish and a despair he had known all his life — threatening to consume him whole. 
Sukuna's gaze doesn't waver, his determination unwavering. "I may not be under your command anymore," he replies, his voice low and steady, "but that doesn't mean I can't help you."
You pause, considering his words carefully. Despite the years that have passed and the distance that now separates you, Sukuna's offer of assistance stirs something within you—a flicker of hope in the darkness of uncertainty. It was tempting. But you know you cannot. He does not belong to you anymore.
"I appreciate the offer, Sukuna," you say, your voice tinged with gratitude, "but this is something I must face on my own."
He steps closer, his expression unwavering. “Even if you say that, I can never change when it comes to you. I only ever think about you. And any threat to you—”
A sad smile touches your lips as you interject. “Sukuna, you must free yourself from me before it’s too late. I’m a lost cause, a mortal with fleeting time. Don’t saddle yourself with someone like me.”
Sukuna's expression softens, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. He reaches out, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before gently cupping your cheek. "You're not a lost cause," he murmurs, his voice tender yet tinged with resignation. "And I could never think of you as such."
Your heart aches at his words, knowing the truth behind them. Despite the depth of his affection, despite the bond that still ties you together, you cannot deny the vast differences between you—differences that cannot be bridged no matter how much you may wish otherwise.
Taking his hands in yours, you look at him earnestly. “Thank you for coming to see me.”
His grip tightens slightly, a rare show of vulnerability. “I’ll always be with you, on earth and in hell. Anywhere. I shall follow you.”
You turn to him as you blinked. You felt your lips tremble into a laugh. “You will truly be cursed to love me, Sukuna.”
“I know.” He responds nonchalantly, with a shrug. 
“And you do not care?”
“Not in the slightest.”
You squeeze his hands for a moment, as though conveying a message that words cannot express. His gaze meets yours, and you hold his four eyes with your gleaming purple haze. “In my next life, I pray that we never meet again, so that you are free of me.”
For a moment, he stands silent, the weight of your words sinking in. The air around you is heavy with the gravity of your parting, the unspoken farewell hanging between you like a veil of sorrow. Sukuna's expression is unreadable, a mixture of longing and resignation playing across his features.
As the silence stretches on, you can feel the weight of his unspoken response, a silent acknowledgment of your wishes. It's a bittersweet moment, filled with the pain of goodbye and the hope of new beginnings.
Finally, Sukuna breaks the silence, his voice barely a whisper. "That is a cruel wish."
Your heart aches at his response, knowing the truth behind his words. It's a cruel wish indeed, to ask for separation from someone you care for so deeply. Yet, it's a sacrifice you feel compelled to make, for his sake as much as your own.
Sukuna's voice, barely above a whisper, echoes through the quiet space between you. It's laced with a hint of sadness, a silent acknowledgment of the pain of your parting. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between honoring your wishes and the longing to remain by your side.
For a moment, you're lost in the weight of his gaze, the depth of emotion swirling within his four eyes. It's a silent plea, a desperate desire to defy fate and rewrite the script of destiny. But deep down, you know that some things are beyond your control, beyond even the power of a curse.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But it's the only way."
With those words hanging in the air like a lament, you turn away, the ache of goodbye settling heavy in your heart. As you walk away, the weight of Sukuna's unspoken response lingers in the air like a haunting melody, a reminder of the bond that will forever tie you together, no matter how far apart you may be.
Your heart aches at his response, knowing the truth behind his words. It's a cruel wish indeed, to ask for separation from someone you care for so deeply. Yet, it's a sacrifice you feel compelled to make, for his sake as much as your own.
Sukuna's voice, barely above a whisper, echoes through the quiet space between you. It's laced with a hint of sadness, a silent acknowledgment of the pain of your parting. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between honoring your wishes and the longing to remain by your side.
For a moment, you're lost in the weight of his gaze, the depth of emotion swirling within his four eyes. It's a silent plea, a desperate desire to defy fate and rewrite the script of destiny. But deep down, you know that some things are beyond your control, beyond even the power of a curse.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But it's the only way."
With those words hanging in the air like a lament, you removed his haori and returned it to him. He moves, as though to argue but you turn away without another word.The ache of goodbye settling heavy in your heart. As you walk away, the weight of Ryomen Sukuna's unspoken response lingers in the air like a haunting melody, a reminder of the bond that will forever tie you together, no matter how far apart you may be.
Soon enough the winter snows fall.
And you will be cold all over again.
You think of his warmth all over again.
And hope it keeps your sorrows away.
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facts about the chapter
i always knew that gojo suzaku was going to die, i just didn't know when he would die. i only thought about killing him when i nded up building the story to this point.
hiromi (you)'s purple eyes continue to turn brighter because the closer you are to the gods, the more the power is there. the more they're brighter. it's why its lilac unlike genmei (also you)'s darker shades.
also, the more you're closer to the gods, the more you are less likely to be bullied by the voices in your head. hiromi only has brief moments where she gets bullied off by the gods because they actually like her unlike genmei.
hiromi is at this point 41 - 42 years old, sukuna is 39 - 40 years old. he stopped aging years ago because he uses his cursed technique to slow down his ageing.
at this point in heian era, seiryuu as a fourteen year old would be considered of age but hiromi (you) really don't think that he's old enough to know what to do and hiromi (you) wants to shield him from all of it.
seiryuu practiced a lot of the reversal techniques that satoru learned years ago. just like satoru, he thinks that the biggest pain in the ass is learn it. seiryuu figured out red and blue later in life and theorized that it's possible to merge them.
hiromi (you)'s current heir to the ryomen name is masako. masako has been under instruction to learn how to be the future ryomen clan leader but she's not interested in it.
the azuma clan is a oc clan under the gojo my friend has made and we sometimes talk about it in like roleplays and i wanted to give a nod to my friend cause their ocs are really cool
it's a common theme between the people who inherit hiromi (you)'s cursed technique to die young because of how much toll it takes on the body to exist. the one in between hiromi and genmei died when she was sixteen, trying to kill off a zenin clan head who tried to subjugate mahoraga.
the upcoming chapter happens in between one or two years, the next chapter is a hundred years later and the last happens in shibuya. its gonna spoil stuff for us and them, but well after this, i have to write us and them.
upcoming chapter also reveals hiromi (you) and genmei (you)'s domain expansion and why both hold back using it in the first place.
next chapter, the family tree of the ryomen will be revealed. this includes all of hiromi's children and other family members. i've kept it from people long enough, so im excited for that too.
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charlesslut16 · 1 year ago
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Hi there! Can you write Yuki with social media admin y/n crushing on each other. like they were so obvious to other drivers that they have a bet going on but Yuki and y/n is just like trying to be professional while checking each other out. maybe a scene of Yuki finding out y/n learning Japanese for him too for max fluff? I need some Yuki appreciation after reading too many bad comments about Yuki recently. Hope you'll pick this up and thank you in advance xxx
-learning your language for love-
summary : you, the social media admin fell for yuki, the formula one driver....
PAIRING : yuki tsunoda x reader
WARNINGS : none
note : send in more requests!!!
december masterlist ; masterlist   
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It was a typical race weekend at the Suzuka Circuit. Yuki Tsunoda, a young and talented driver for the Scuderia AlphaTauri team, was busy preparing his car for the upcoming Grand Prix.
Across the garage, social media admin, you, who had been crushing on Yuki for months, couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach as she watched him work.
The other drivers and mechanics had even taken notice of their obvious attraction, to the point where they had a small bet going on about when, or if, anything would happen between them.
As Yuki wiped his brow, adjusting his helmet, he glanced over at you and felt his cheeks heating up. He couldn't deny the fact that he had been checking you out too .
Even tho you both tried to remain professional. The tension between you was palpable like two magnets desperately trying not to be drawn together.
Later that day, while reviewing some data in the team's hospitality suite, Yuki caught you silently studying a Japanese phrase book intently.
Intrigued, he leaned over your shoulder and saw that you were actually trying to learn some basic Japanese words and phrases for him.
His heart skipped a beat as he realized how much effort she was putting into making him feel welcome and appreciated.
Overhearing their interaction, one of the other drivers, who had placed a bet on them getting together, smiled to himself and whispered, "Looks like we're in for quite a show this weekend."
As the weekend progressed, Yuki and you continued to navigate your feelings for each other while keeping up appearances.
They flirted shamelessly but always managed to maintain a respectful distance. It was as if they were dancing around each other, each afraid to make the first move and ruin the delicate balance they had created.
Finally, on the eve of the race, as they were working late into the night, Yuki mustered up the courage to ask you about the Japanese phrase book.
His voice barely above a whisper, he said, "You've been learning Japanese for me?" Your eyes widened, and you looked away for a moment before turning back to him with a small smile.
"Well," you said, "I thought it would be nice to try and understand you better. And… maybe it would make things a little easier for both of us."
He nodded, feeling a lump forming in his throat. "Thank you," he said softly, reaching out to take your hand. And with that simple gesture, you knew that the lines you had drawn were about to be blurred.
The race was intense, with both Yuki and you working tirelessly to support your team. You couldn't help but steal glances at each other, your eyes filled with promises and possibilities.
The other drivers and mechanics, who had placed their bets, watched on with bated breath, eager to see how things would unfold between the two of them.
As the checkered flag fell, the race was declared over. Yuki crossed the finish line in sixth place, but the victory he truly wanted was already his.
He turned to you, his heart in his throat, and leaned in close. Your lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss that spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings for each other.
Around you, the team erupted in cheers, oblivious to the moment of intimacy that was unfolding between their driver and their social media admin.
But for Yuki and you, this was a private celebration of your own, a moment of connection that transcended your professional roles and spoke to the deep love you had for each other.
As you parted, both of you with flushed cheeks and hearts racing, you knew that your lives had just changed forever. The journey ahead might be uncertain, but you would face it together, hand in hand, as partners in every sense of the word.
The following weeks were a whirlwind of excitement and adjustment as Yuki and you navigated your new relationship while continuing to excel in your respective roles on the team.
You became inseparable, both on and off the track, your connection growing stronger with each passing day. The other drivers and mechanics, who had placed their bets, couldn't help but admire the pair's dedication and passion for one another.
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