#it’s just that however much is too much changes over the years

[capquinn]

can we get a blurb about quinn telling his parents he’s gonna be a dad, pretty pretty please???? i feel like he’d be nervous to tell them but also bursting at the seams wanting them to know. it’s probably hard for him being so far away for most of the year, that he wants them to be involved as much as they can, but he’d also want to respect his partner’s wishes if she wanted to wait to tell people until she was further along in case something happened

The decision about when to tell Quinn’s family about the baby over Thanksgiving weekend had been made weeks ago, but actually doing it was proving to be a whole different story.

For Quinn, the excitement of telling them had been almost overwhelming at first, a buzz of energy thrumming beneath his skin every time he thought about the moment. He could picture their reactions so clearly: Ellen’s face lighting up with joy and then tears, Jim’s steady pride breaking into a wide grin. He’d played it over in his mind again and again, letting the thought carry him through the quiet moments of doubt.

But now, as the reality of actually saying the words settled in, the nerves crept in too. It wasn’t that he doubted their reaction — they would be thrilled, he knew that. They adored him, a love larger than life itself, their pride woven into every word they spoke about him. A love so steadfast it felt unshakable. And over the years, that same love had effortlessly extended to you, not just welcoming you into their family but embracing you as if you’d always been a part of it.

However, the weight of the moment, of what it symbolised, suddenly felt heavier. This wasn’t just a fleeting piece of good news to share. It was life-changing, not just for him and you, but for them as well. They were about to become grandparents, stepping into a new chapter of their lives, and he couldn’t shake the pressure of wanting the moment to be perfect.

The confidence he’d carried on the flight home for the weekend was slipping, giving way to a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite name. He’d been eager, almost impatient, to share the news, to feel the weight of it lifted and replaced with their joy, their pride, their unwavering support. He wanted them to share in the excitement, to feel connected to this life-changing moment despite the physical miles that often separate them. He needed them to know that their place in this new chapter, as grandparents, was as important to him as the one he was stepping into.

But now, standing on the brink of saying it aloud, a sudden wave of nerves hit him, sharp and unexpected. The enormity of it all — the love, the hope, the vulnerability wrapped in the words — made his throat tighten.

It wasn’t just an announcement. It was a shift, one that would ripple out and reshape everything. Parenthood, after all, was still something the two of you were learning to grasp.

The first evening back home unfolded in the warm glow of Ellen’s kitchen, the scent of roast chicken and fresh-baked bread filling the air. The house alive with warmth — the crackle of the fireplace, the low hum of laughter, and the familiar cadence of Jim’s voice as he spun a tale about the neighbour’s runaway tractor. He gestured animatedly, earning chuckles and interjections from Ellen, who corrected him at every exaggerated turn. It’s a familiar, comforting scene — the kind of moment Quinn usually soaks in without a second thought.

But tonight, his mind is a thousand miles away.

You can feel the tension humming beneath his relaxed posture, the subtle way his fingers tighten around yours every few minutes, like he’s trying to ground himself. His gaze keeps darting to his parents — catching the glint of Ellen’s wedding band as she leans forward in her chair, the crinkle of Jim’s eyes as he laughs at his own joke.

He wants to tell them. You can see it in the way his lips press together, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate breath as though he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

We’re having a baby.

It’s right there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the perfect moment. 

Quinn shifts in his seat, his free hand sliding up to rub the back of his neck as he leans forward slightly. You can feel the faint tremor in his grip as he laces his fingers tighter with yours, like he’s steadying himself for something big.

Jim’s voice carries on in the background, the rich cadence of his story weaving effortlessly with Ellen’s laughter, but Quinn’s focus isn’t there anymore. His gaze is fixed on the table, the firelight catching in his eyes as he takes a deep, deliberate breath.

You recognise the signs immediately. The way his shoulders draw back just slightly, the faint movement of his lips like he’s practicing the words in his head. It’s coming — you can feel it in the subtle shift of his energy, the way his knee bounces once under the table before he stills it with a hand.

He glances at you, and in the flicker of his gaze, you see everything — the love, the nerves, the overwhelming weight of what he wants to say. 

Your expression softens, and you give his hand a gentle squeeze, a quiet I’m here. You’ve got this.

Quinn swallows, his throat working against the knot of emotion rising there. 

“So, uh,” he starts, his voice low and hesitant, barely cutting through the warmth of the room.

Ellen turns toward him, her smile easy and expectant, and Jim sets his drink down, his brows lifting in quiet curiosity.

It’s right there. The words are sitting at the edge of his lips, just waiting to fall out. We’re having a baby.

But they don’t.

Quinn falters, his mouth opening slightly before he closes it again, his jaw tightening as he drops his gaze to his lap. His hand squeezes yours, and the quiet pressure feels like an apology.

Ellen’s eyes flit between the two of you, a flicker of concern crossing her face. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” she asks gently, her voice laced with the kind of maternal intuition that always catches him off guard.

He looks up at her, his lips curving into a faint, practiced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Nothing,” he says softly, shaking his head. “Just... it’s good to be home. That’s all.”

You watch as Ellen’s concern melts into warmth, her smile returning as she reaches over to squeeze his arm affectionately. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here, too,” she says simply, her love for him evident in every word.

Quinn nods, his gaze falling back to his lap, and you can see the frustration flickering just beneath the surface. He’s upset with himself — not because he doesn’t want to tell them, but because he does. Desperately. He just… can’t.

You lean into him slightly, your shoulder brushing his, and when he looks at you, you offer the smallest smile. He exhales slowly, his grip on your hand relaxing just a bit, and when Jim launches into another story, the tension eases from Quinn’s shoulders — if only for a moment.

The second opportunity comes the next morning, when the day feels impossibly slow and golden, like it’s giving Quinn every chance in the world to speak up. The two of you lie in bed longer than usual, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as you talk quietly, voices still hushed with sleep.

“We can’t leave without telling them,” Quinn says suddenly, his voice quiet but resolute, like the realisation is finally settling in. His gaze is fixed somewhere on the ceiling, his brow furrowed in thought, the weight of his words pulling his shoulders just a little tighter. “I just… I want to do it right, you know?”

“I get it,” you reply, turning your head to look at him. His profile is soft in the morning light, his jaw flexing slightly as he wrestles with the thought. “You want it to feel special.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a faint, almost sheepish smile. “Exactly. And every time I think about actually saying it, I freeze. Like, what if I screw it up and it’s not as perfect as I want it to be?”

You can’t help the way your heart squeezes a little at the vulnerability in his voice, the honesty of it catching you off guard in the best way. Sliding a little closer, you prop yourself up on one elbow, your hand brushing lightly against his arm. The movement pulls his attention, and for a moment, his eyes flicker to yours before settling back on the ceiling.

“Quinn,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection, “they’re going to love it. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you.”

He doesn’t respond right away, the words settling over him like a quiet balm. His jaw flexes again as he chews on your reassurance, his hand absently dropping to your abdomen. It’s such a natural gesture, like he doesn’t even realise he’s done it, his palm curving gently over the barely-there swell. 

The corners of his lips twitch, like he’s debating whether to believe you. Then he lets out a soft laugh, low and self-deprecating, his free hand coming up to rake through his already-messy hair.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is easy,” you insist, squeezing his arm lightly, your gaze steady on him. “It’s you, Quinn. They’re going to be over the moon no matter how or when you tell them.”

His eyes flick to yours then, something unspoken passing between you — a quiet thank you, maybe, or just an acknowledgment that he’s holding onto your words a little tighter than he lets on. His thumb brushes a slow, thoughtful circle against your skin, and you can feel the tension in his shoulders ease, if only just a little.

“Don’t worry, you’ll tell them today,” you murmur. There’s a quiet encouragement in your voice, a steady belief that seems to seep right into him. Your fingers trace lazy circles over the back of his hand where it rests on your belly.

Quinn nods, his lips twitching into a small, tentative smile. It’s not the full-blown confidence he probably wishes he had, but it’s something — a flicker of determination breaking through the haze of nerves.

“Yeah,” he says softly, the single word carrying more resolve than hesitation. “I will.”

He sounds ready. You believe him. So does he.

And so the morning unfolds beautifully. Ellen, with her usual warmth and efficiency, packs coffee and snacks into a little canvas bag, insisting with a bright smile that everyone take advantage of the clear weather to walk the trails. There’s a lightness to her tone, a sense of simple joy that seems to catch on everyone as they prepare to head out.

Out in the forest, the world feels peaceful, quiet but alive. The rustle of leaves underfoot mingles with the occasional chirp of a bird or the soft swish of wind through the trees. The trail is dappled with sunlight, patches of golden light breaking through the canopy above. Quinn walks beside you, his shoulder bumping yours every now and then as the two of you amble along.

He’s quiet at first, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, but there’s a softness to him that doesn’t feel like nervousness — it feels like he’s soaking it all in. The crisp air, the sound of his parents chatting a few paces ahead, the steady rhythm of your steps beside him.

“You good?” you ask softly, nudging him with your elbow. Your breath fogs slightly in the cool air, and he glances over at you, his lips quirking into a small smile.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low but steady. And for a while, it feels like he means it.

At the overlook at the end of the trail that feels perfect, too. The sunlight glints off the trees, the breeze is cool and gentle, and his parents are close, their laughter light as Ellen unpacks the thermos of coffee. You can feel the moment hanging there, just waiting for Quinn to take it.

He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles. You glance up at him, catching the way his jaw tightens just slightly, his lips pressing together like he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

“Now’s a good time,” you say softly, tilting your head toward him. Your voice is quiet, meant just for him, but there’s an encouragement in it that you hope will nudge him past whatever’s holding him back.

Quinn nods, his shoulders straightening a little as he draws in a breath. 

His gaze flicks over to his parents, who are standing a few feet away, cups of steaming coffee in their hands as they admire the view. They’re relaxed, happy. Completely unsuspecting.

For a moment, it feels like he’s going to do it. He takes a step forward, clearing his throat softly, and both Ellen and Jim glance over at him. 

“What is it, Quinn?” Ellen asks, her voice warm, a smile playing on her lips.

You watch as Quinn’s hand flexes at his side, his fingers twitching like he’s trying to grab hold of the words before they slip away. 

“I—” he starts, but then his gaze falters, dropping to the ground for a fraction of a second. He hesitates, just long enough for the nerves to creep in.

Jim’s brow lifts slightly, his smile curious. “Everything okay?”

Quinn freezes, his jaw working as if he’s wrestling with the weight of the moment. You see the exact second he decides against it — the subtle shift in his stance, the way his eyes dart back to the view like he’s searching for an escape.

“Yeah,” he says finally, his voice low but steady. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

There’s a beat of quiet, and then Ellen laughs lightly, her attention shifting back to her cup. 

“Good,” she says, clearly not noticing the undercurrent of tension. “Come have some coffee before it gets cold.”

Jim watches Quinn for a second longer, his gaze thoughtful, but he doesn’t press. He just claps a hand on Quinn’s shoulder as he passes, squeezing lightly. 

Quinn exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging just slightly as he turns back to you. His lips twitch into a faint, sheepish smile, and he shrugs like he’s trying to laugh it off. But you know him too well to buy it.

You don’t say anything, just lean into his side a little, the warmth of him grounding in a way words wouldn’t be.

“Just… not yet,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost like he’s saying it to himself more than to you.

You nod, giving his hand another squeeze, a quiet reassurance passing between you. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice just as soft. “You’ll know when the time’s right.”

He breathes out slowly, his gaze flickering back to the view for a moment before settling on his parents again. And even though the moment passes, and the group begins to move again, their laughter breaking through the quiet hum of the forest, you can feel it. The way his hand tightens slightly around yours. The way his shoulders stay just a little too tense as you walk.

He’s still building up to it, you know that. But he’s getting closer.

Back at the house, the moment arises again, this time while everyone is lounging in the living room after lunch. Quinn sits beside you on the couch, one hand cradling his coffee mug, the other resting on your thigh. His parents are across from you, their chairs pulled close to the fire, and the warmth of the room feels almost tangible, a gentle weight of familiarity and love.

He’s relaxed now, leaning back into the cushions, his gaze sweeping over the room like he’s soaking it all in. His hand tightens slightly on your leg, and you glance at him, catching the way his eyes flicker with something you recognise — nerves, anticipation, resolve.

Ellen catches his eye and smiles, tilting her head slightly. “What’s on your mind, Quinn? You’ve been out of sorts today.”

Your heart skips, and you sit up just slightly, willing him forward with the quiet encouragement in your expression. 

This is it. He’s going to say it. You can feel it.

He clears his throat, straightening a little. “Just... uh,” he starts, his voice steady but hesitant. He glances at you, then back at his mom, and his lips twitch into a small, uncertain smile. “Just thinking how I’m gonna miss this when we leave,” he finishes, his tone light but not entirely convincing.

Your shoulders relax, a mix of understanding and disappointment flooding you as you press your knee gently against his. Quinn glances at you, his jaw tightening as he picks up on your unspoken it’s okay. Next time.

Ellen smiles warmly, tilting her head in that soft, motherly way. “It’s not long until Christmas,” she reminds him, though her voice carries a faint wistfulness, like she’s reminding herself too.

Quinn nods. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Not long.”

The following morning unfolds in the quiet, unhurried way that comes after a weekend of family time, everyone savouring these last hours together. The kitchen is warm and familiar, filled with the smell of coffee and the soft sounds of Ellen moving around, flipping pancakes on the griddle. Jim leans against the counter by the sink, drying dishes, while you’re perched on a stool at the island, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Quinn stands a little apart, leaned back against the counter with a piece of toast in hand, his damp hair sticking up in every direction, evidence of a quick shower.

The conversation drifts easily — something about Jim’s plans for the yard that afternoon, Ellen’s pancake technique, a joke about Luke’s questionable cooking skills. But Quinn is quiet, and not in the usual, thoughtful way. His eyes flick between his parents, to you, and back again, a pattern he’s been repeating all weekend. You know he’s been carrying the weight of the news, the excitement and nerves tangling together, keeping him from saying it despite countless opportunities.

And then, just like that, it happens.

“We have something to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but quiet enough that it cuts through the easy flow of conversation. 

The kitchen stills, all eyes turning toward him. Ellen pauses mid-flip, the spatula poised over the griddle, while Jim straightens from his spot near the sink, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What is it?” Ellen asks, her voice soft but expectant, her gaze darting between you both.

Quinn shifts slightly, his toast forgotten on the counter behind him. His hand brushes over the back of his neck, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to back out again, if the nerves will win one last time. 

But then he glances at you, his expression searching, and you nod gently, giving him the encouragement he’s been looking for.

“We’re having a baby,” he says, the words tumbling out in a rush but steady, sure. His voice catches just slightly at the end, but his eyes stay locked on his parents, watching as the meaning sinks in.

For a moment, the room is silent. Ellen stares at him, her eyes wide and unblinking, her hand coming up to her mouth. Jim’s towel stills mid-fold in his hands, his gaze flicking to you as if for confirmation. And then Ellen gasps — a sound so full of joy and disbelief it feels like it fills the entire room.

“Oh my God,” Ellen whispers, her voice trembling as her hand covers her mouth. Her eyes dart between Quinn and you, wide and shimmering with emotion. “A baby? You’re having a baby?” She looks at you then, as if she needs your confirmation to believe it’s true.

Quinn nods, and the soft, tentative smile that had been tugging at his lips finally breaks free. It spreads wide, unstoppable, lighting up his entire face. 

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low and steady but filled with something raw and achingly real. “We’re having a baby.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world feels suspended, as if the house itself is holding its breath. Then Ellen moves, her emotions bursting forth as she crosses the kitchen in a blur, her arms outstretched. She pulls Quinn into a fierce hug, her laugh bubbling up through a flood of tears.

“Oh, Quinn,” she says, her voice breaking with joy. “A baby. My baby’s having a baby.” Her hands cradle his face for a moment before she hugs him again, tighter this time, as if she can pour every ounce of love she feels into him.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around her as his chin rests against the top of her head. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

When Ellen pulls back, her focus shifts immediately to you. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, rounding the island with tears streaming down her face. “A baby. Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She pulls you into a tight hug, her warmth and joy washing over you in waves. “You’re going to be incredible parents. Both of you.”

Jim moves forward more slowly, his hand landing firmly on Quinn’s shoulder as a wide smile spreads across his face. 

“This is incredible news, son,” he says, his voice steady but with an unmistakable quiver of emotion. “Congratulations. To both of you.”

Quinn exhales then, properly exhales, like the weight of all his nerves and hesitations has finally lifted. 

For the rest of the morning, the kitchen hums with joy. Ellen flits between the stove and you, her emotions spilling over every time she catches Quinn’s eye. She can’t seem to stop smiling, crying, or imagining the tiny new addition to the family. 

“How have you been feeling?” she asks, her eyes searching yours with a mother’s concern. “If you need anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

Her hand briefly brushes over your arm, the gesture warm and reassuring, and you nod, assuring her that you’ve been well, that Quinn has been attentive, that everything is as it should be. It’s impossible not to smile at the way her joy bubbles over, filling every corner of the kitchen like sunlight.

Quinn, for his part, has shed every trace of hesitation. He talks easily now, the nerves replaced by an earnest kind of excitement. He shares the small details — the due date, how you found out, how ready the two of you feel — and every word seems to deepen the pride in Jim’s expression. He stands quietly nearby, his presence grounding and constant, his smile unwavering.

When it’s finally time to leave, the hugs linger. Ellen pulls Quinn close, whispering something through her tears before letting him go to hold you just as tightly. Jim’s hand finds Quinn’s shoulder again, squeezing it once in a way that says everything without words. There’s an unspoken promise in their goodbyes, a warmth that stays even as the front door closes behind you.

Quinn doesn’t say much as he helps you into the car, his hand brushing over your back as he opens the door. But as he settles into the driver’s seat, he glances back at the house one last time, his expression soft, a little dazed. When he turns to you, his smile is quiet, content, the kind that makes your heart ache in the best way. 

As you drive away, the crisp Michigan air shifting through the windows, his hand finds yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in that familiar, absent minded way, and you realise that for the first time all weekend, there’s nothing holding him back. The weight is gone, replaced by something steadier — joy, contentment, and the simple knowledge that everything is exactly as it should be.

[animeyanderelover]

Dear lord above, I at least want to write something today but with the little energy I have I do not want to publish something that was requested and write it with less motivation so just have those quick Hc's.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, blackmailing, threats, violence, disrespect, overprotective behavior, abduction, death

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

Fushiguro Toji Hc's

🪱​Toji for me is very interesting to view because he has been pushed to a point beyond return and he himself has embraced this fact already years ago. He just doesn't care about anything anymore. His wife was his only hope but even that has been taken away from him and with her death any chance for him to ever be a decent man has passed away too. For Toji you are no saving grace. How could you be when what he is feeling for you is so much more twisted than what he was feeling for his dead wife? As irresponsible and neglectful of other lovers and even his own child he is, Toji is actually very perceptive of his own emotions as soon as he realises that there is something brooding within him. His wife made him want to change and be a better person for her. That simply isn't the case with you. When Toji looks at you he only feels that primal desire to keep you to himself and to murder anyone who even attempts to get in his way. With no morals he feels like he has to uphold back and with nothing to lose either he willingly walks into the hurricane of his growing obsession. He wants it that way. Because whether he is going to admit it or not, those feelings make him feel alive.

🪱​Unashamed and direct, Toji is everything but subtle to express that he wants you. From the very first day he is suffocatingly possessive of you and aggressive and rude about it. He easily tracks you down via your odor as his experience of being an assassin really are more than just useful and overall just frightful for you. Honestly, he doesn't plan to woo you. He just wants you to be his and he doesn't expect to care about what you think. Initially that is indeed the case. That is until he discovers that underneath all that possessive greed other feelings for you start budding. Tender feelings which remind him of the emotions he had for his previous wife. He does care after all. Subtle changes happen only then but only when it involves you. He still continues his job of assassinating people as long as it earns him his money and he still doesn't give a shit about people overall. He doesn't have the capacity to do that. The only one spared from the blatant disrespect and rudeness he expresses to his surroundings is you. It's all he finds himself capable of. Better for only you, still the same asshole and ruthless murderer to everyone else. That should be more than enough for him.

🪱​Jealousy is not a word that Toji would use to ever describe himself. It isn't a word that you would use to describe him with either. Overly possessive is a description much more fitting for a man like him and it is indeed his raging possessive emotions for you that reign predominantly whenever he catches sight of someone else with you. However, he is no grown manchild who barges in the moment he spots such a sight as long as the interaction has a practical function like you buying something and asking for advice or taking care of other business. What Toji hates though is idle chatter with no bigger meaning behind it all and that is when he always interrupts the conversations and pushes you away. His enhanced senses give him the advantage of being able to tell when there is a case of someone liking you a bit too much and then everything is over. No matter what you do, the other individual always gets hurt and the best thing you manage to do is have Toji tone down his violent response to the point where no bones are broken and only a few large and throbbing bruises serve as a reminder for the next few weeks. It's no surprise that you never see the face of such people ever again.

🪱​Toji has confessed to you what he is doing to earn his money as he doesn't even bother to paint himself as the good guy. This is just who he is and how he does things and it only leads to you fretting from a very early stage on for everyone. He's made it clear to you that he is not going to ever murder you but everyone else is a free game and it is this fear that Toji uses to keep you on a leash if he senses that you have rebellious thoughts. He has absolutely no problems assassinating whoever is a thorn in his eyes but that doesn't mean that he brags about it in front of you. There seems to be some semblance of decency that he relearns as soon as he starts living with you and this is one of them. It's such a casual routine for him that it might even happen that he brutally taunts someone, swiftly ends their pathetic life afterwards and then brings some takeout back home for you and him. Still, if someone from your surroundings suddenly disappears you always know whose doing it is. He never confirms it verbally to you but sometimes his green eyes give you that look that have you quickly shut up. You've learned to know what it means. 'Careful now or someone else will be next.'

🪱​You're already stuck in a relationship with him long before he has abducted you but at that point you already know that this outcome is inevitable. However, despite all the shit you have grown through at that point already you still manage to be mildly flabbergasted when he one day drags you to the place the two of you will live in together from now on. It's a decently sized apartment and whilst the kitchen has already been littered with cups of instant ramen it is much cleaner than you expected. You find out soon after that this place has actually only been recently purchased by him and that's how you find out that he's basically been living in the houses of other woman or hotel rooms before he met you. He's literally telling you that he's been homeless before he decided to live together with you, realising that you shouldn't have to adapt to his previous lifestyle. He doesn't expect you to act like a housewife and keep the apartment clean though. By all means, you can litter too if you want to as he is used to living shitty. You do abide by some basic expectations you have yourself though as you do not want to live like a racoon in a trash can and Toji lets you do as you want.

🪱​After years of not having looked properly out for his own hygiene Toji actually finds himself caring about such aspects again but only because it is very obvious that it bothers you. He's never really minded that he smells like sweat, blood and fast food but you do, especially whenever he gives you a bear hug. He very much forces physical affection on you as he has only ever promised to draw the line at physically harming you. Honestly, you do realise from an early point on that Toji lives in a different world than you do and that you wouldn't be able to escape and run away from him even if you had the opportunity. There's no way for you to escape someone with senses as enhanced as his and immense physical abilities that easily outperform top athletes. So as strange and frightening as it is, you try to adjust to a life with him even if only to protect family and friends who are very much a green light for him to threaten and end if you do something stupid. You're actually allowed to go outside as soon as he knows that you have learned how things work but you aren't allowed to interact more than necessary and if you just want to go outside to have fun he always accompanies you.

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Knowing a change of scenery was what your mental health needed, you transferred to where your brother, Mark, goes to college. The good news is, he’s not too cool for his younger sister, so he lets you join his friend group immediately. The bad news is, Haechan is in that friend group, and a brief encounter four years ago was enough for you to understand he does NOT like you. Even worse news, he’s a lot hotter than he was four years ago…

Chapter Sixteen: smol bear - six images, 1.9k words - heads up, this has about the same vibe as last chapter

As soon as you opened the door to Haechan, you were ready to fall into his embrace, already having worn yourself out from crying prior to his arrival.

However, what you’re met with is a pint of Ben & Jerry’s The Tonight Dough extended out for you to take, and you flick your gaze up to Haechan in question. “You had enough time to run to the store in the past five minutes?” You ask with a laugh of disbelief, wiping away at the stray tears running down your face, his presence alone enough to start calming you down a bit.

Haechan uses his hand that's not holding the ice cream to scratch at the back of his neck in embarrassment. “No, I just- I keep a pint of it in my freezer in case you’re ever over and...want some, and I figured you’d probably uh- want some now.”

That was all it took before sobs immediately wrack your body again and Haechan just sighs, moving slightly to place down the pint of ice cream before coming back to wrap you in a bear hug. You can hardly think to be embarrassed about your tears staining his shirt, but you knew he would have been adamant that it didn’t matter in the slightest.

Slowly, he brings a hand up to run over the back of your head and through your hair. “What’s that silly brain of yours up to?” He whispers, and you shake your head against his chest.

“Currently? Telling me that I don’t deserve you,” you answer, rendering Haechan still for a moment.

“I can assure you, that’s a lie,” he responds seriously. You let out a heavy sigh against his body before speaking again, trying to ignore how your voice was cracking.

“I don’t like myself very much right now,” you sniffle in his hold, and Haechan is baffled that you couldn’t hear his heart breaking in his chest, though he figures he should be grateful for that. He takes care in maneuvering the two of you so that he could rest his forehead against yours for a moment, his thumb now gliding softly across your cheek.

“Don’t worry. I like you enough for the both of us tonight,” he says gently, and your grip around him tightens as you hide your head back in his chest to try and stifle more sobs. He runs a hand up and down your back in the meantime. “Thank you for texting me,” he continues, and you shake your head against his chest.

“I needed you,” you manage to say through a whimper, forcing Haechan to take a deep breath before tears could end up sliding down his face, as well.

“I’m always gonna be here,” he responds, and you knew he meant it with every fiber of his being - you could feel it.

When the two of you finally broke from the hug, Haechan immediately turned your attention to various board games and movies. Eventually, this led to the two of you laying down on top of your, much more comfortable, couch; with you almost entirely on top of Haechan as his arms wrapped around you loosely.

You were half-way through his comfort movie (the two of you already rewatched The Aristocats while playing board games) when he softly spoke up for the first time since it started.

“You can talk to me about it, you know? I told you your heavy feelings aren’t gonna scare me away, and just taking your mind off of it isn’t going to work forever.” His head is still turned to face the TV as he spoke, and you know it’s an attempt to make it feel more casual - less threatening of a topic.

You hold your breath for a moment before letting out a light sigh, giving in. “You’re not gonna get it, though. I feel like no one gets it. Sure, meeting you guys has been the biggest blessing and my mental health is honestly miles ahead of where it was…though that’s probably hard to believe given the situation. But- you guys always want to hang out with me, and my SM friends did, too, but I don’t get it. Half the time I just want to lay in bed and do nothing, and it’s like you guys know that and purposely don’t let me. I don’t know why you guys don’t let me. I don’t want to eat or see the sunlight all the time. I'm doing better but sometimes I just want to be here, and everyone acts as though it's the end of the world.”

Haechan takes a sharp inhale as his hands cease rubbing circles across your back and you’re terrified you messed up telling him all of that, figuring it paints you as ungrateful for your friends - a classification that he himself fell under, and now you’re worried you upset him. Though, moving your head up to look at him, you catch as he licks his lips in contemplation before pulling his gaze away from the TV and towards you, raising his eyebrows as he asks a question. “Do you step on flowers when you see them blooming?”

You look at him quizzically as you respond with a faint, confused ‘no.’ Haechan lets the softest of smiles cross his face as he shakes his head to emphasize your negative response, continuing to his point as he does so.

“We all try our best to take care of beautiful things, y/n. And even if you don’t see how your actions, or lack thereof, equate to you not taking care of yourself, think about the five year old who tramples over flowers without realizing any harm was done…but the rest of us know. The rest of us grieve. So, we’re all just trying our best to take care of you - before your mental health starts affecting your physical health and you have to stay in bed all day. I mean, I take you out to lunch all the time and I know you don’t want to eat, I know. But what you don’t know is that you eat a little bit more off your plate every single time. So, I never stop inviting you out, cause when I take care of you, you take care of yourself, too. The same thing when Jeno and Jaemin go exploring with you. It’s a huge part of why you’re miles ahead of where you were mentally. You’ve gotten stronger, you just don’t know it. So yeah, we like hanging out with you all the time - cause every time we do, we see you healing, and it gives us the chance to take care of you and fill all the gaps in between.”

If the two of you were breathing once he got done talking, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. The only sound breaking the silence was from the movie. You and Haechan seemed instead to be frozen in time. You watch as he takes a moment to study your figure, opening and closing his mouth a few times, apparently not satisfied with leaving off how he did.

He dodges eye contact now as he begins his next spiel, but his words come out slower, even more decided, than they previously were. “And if it’s the ‘beautiful’ part you’re having a hard time wrapping your head around…well, I’d tell you to think of art museums. Not everyone gets it, but there’s a reason for every piece that’s on display. Someone’s found it beautiful…even those weird modern art pieces that no one seems to get because they’re just red squares half the time. But you? If you feel like a red square painted on a canvas, just know that I get it - it was never even a question. I know you’re beautiful,” he says, moving a hand to gently tuck a piece of hair behind your ear so he could make unobstructed eye contact with you.

You don’t say anything back in reply. You can’t. Instead, you lay your head back on his chest to face the TV, squeezing your eyes shut, though it doesn’t do anything to stop the small shakes of your body with each soft sob that picked back up at his words. Haechan never said anything else, just holding you tightly to him as he resumed tracing shapes over your back until you fell asleep in his arms.

When you woke up the next morning in bed, what you weren’t expecting was to walk out to the living area and see Haechan standing in the kitchen.

At the sound of your footsteps, he turns to face you with a smile. “Hey, do you want coffee?” He asks casually, as if it were his own place and you were the guest.

You can’t stop the small laugh from leaving your system. “What are you doing here?” You ask playfully, and Haechan just shrugs as if nothing were off.

“Well, you fell asleep on me last night, so I carried you to bed and tucked you in and all that cause I figured your bed is more comfortable, but I didn’t want to just- leave you…in case you woke back up and needed me. So, I slept on the couch; unless you think that's weird!! In which case, I went home last night after getting you to bed, then came back here about ten minutes ago to make you coffee...and your friendly poltergeist roommate let me in.” He states plainly, and a fond smile paints its way across your lips as you stare at his figure, currently turned away from you as he resumed his task of making coffee.

“Thank you,” you reply seriously, and Haechan figures it was for the best that he wasn’t facing you anymore because just your 'thanks' had sent blush across his cheeks.

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he answers, finally turning towards you again once the warmth in his cheeks dies down. “Do you wanna hang out today, too? Or are you about to kick me out of your kitchen?” He asks with a bashful smile and embarrassed laugh.

You shake your head and let your eyes roll playfully. “Well, you’re already here…we might as well hang out.”

Haechan lets a grin cross his face but he shakes his head at you. “Oh, no, I’m getting you out of here today; making you take a break from the confines of this place," he states with a lilt of seriousness.

You let out a sigh, though you knew arguing would be futile. “Well, I’m sorry to report that it’s a little early for lunch,” you joke, and Haechan rolls his eyes before answering with a cup of coffee extended out for you to take.

“I didn’t ask to go out for lunch, I asked to hang out. I’m ready for whatever it is you want to do, just let me know,” he says firmly, clinking your coffee mugs together in a mock 'cheers' before taking a sip through the stupid grin he currently bore on his face.

You roll your eyes in an attempt to negate the smile on your own lips. “Let me go get ready,” you say, but before you can take two steps back toward your bedroom, Haechan catches your wrist in his hand, forcing you to turn his way again in an instant.

“We have all day. Just stand in this kitchen and drink coffee with me for a bit first,” he pleads softly. That was all it took for you to move the mug up to your lips, laughing at the man in front of you who was now incredibly too invested in whether or not you liked your coffee.

[previous] -> [masterlist] -> [next]

a/n: sorry about this being posted slightly off schedule hours-wise…I was busy being thankful for my family (and I still don’t trust scheduled posts) but I’m also very thankful for all of you! I hope you enjoy this chapter and the holiday season :))

a/n (x2): you guys would not BELIEVE how long it takes for them to get together after this...

Taglist: @fullsunstrawberry @choizzn @raevyng @dudekiss3r @yewshi @artsenthusiastk77 @injunnie-lemon @markeroolee @chan-yeoldelling @sunflowerhae @mystverse @urlovelily @luvandletter @jeonghansshitester @dinonuguaegi @untilthesunrises @clean-soap @andassortedkpop @dlin3 @roseangelxfuma @gomdoleemyson @simmsunshine @swanyvess @awktwurtle @t-102 @kukkurookkoo @haefelt

@hahaechans @ypoom151999 @goldenclosethobi

[millieisawriter]

La redención de un tonto

javier escuella x reader

summary: the fall of the van der linde gang was the thing that doomed what had been between you and javier. you loved each other, you truly did, but after he chose dutch's side, and you stood by arthur, you knew this is the end. however, a few years later the fate had led you right back to javier.

wc: 2.7k

all pics taken from pinterest

!!!rdr2 spoilers!! rdr1 spoilers too i guess?

♡this was requested!♡

a/n: okay so i have never played rdr1 nor have i watched any gameplays, but i conciously spoiled it to myself after having finished rdr2, so i know what happens in rdr1, but forgive me if i have missed some details from the game

You never had the intention of heading to Mexico. Well, back when you and Javier were a thing, he always talked about how he was someday going to take you there. But due to what happened to the gang, it never happened, so you buried the memories six feet deep.

Long story short, Javier sided with Dutch and his ideas that got crazier each day, one worse than the other. On one hand you understood his loyalty, but you looked at the problem more objectively. Dutch's brilliant ideas were dangerous, leading the gang into a dead end, from where there was no saving.

"Loyalty is the only thing that can save us." Javier would often remind you.

By then, the gang had moved somewhere near Annesburg. The damn cave you had cleared of its previous tenants was making the camp feel cold, unfamiliar, even scary. Or maybe it wasn't the cave's fault. So much had changed the past few months since that failed job in Blackwater.

"Look, I love Dutch like a father, he practically raised me," you had replied, "but right now he's leading us all into a grave!"

"So what, you're going to side with Arthur? With John? Turn your back on everything we've built?"

"I can't be with you if you support ideas of a man who doesn't give a shit about none of us anymore!"

In that moment, you had been ready to leave. If only Javier wanted to, you two would have left the gang, keep your head low for some time, and eventually leave a happy ever after.

But that never happened. Javier had been blinded by his loyalty to Dutch, and you saw it even without Arthur pointing it out. Because Dutch saved Javier's life a few years before, Javier was now willing to give it up for plans that were doomed from the start.

After you had left, you had no idea what happened to any of the others. You've heard a whisper here and there in saloons, talking of the great fall of the Van Der Linde gang, some people that died, but never any details.

"I guess this is where we part ways." You had stated the last time you ever saw Javier. It were as if you needed to say it for yourself, because it still didn't feel real.

Old you never thought a breakup with Javier would ever have to happen. But then, the old Javier wouldn't put Dutch over the love of his life. Maybe it just wasn't what you were to him, after all.

He knew you still loved him, even if you hated you were on separate edges of the war within your gang. "You don't mean that."

Did he say that because he still loved you too? Or was he just so full of himself? In that moment it hit you, the memory of how John had called Javier a cynic that tried so hard to be a romantic. Maybe the fall of the gang caused Javier's true colors to show.

"I do." Tears appeared in your eyes when you thought about how you'd often imagine saying these words to Javier, but in slightly different circumstances.

For a moment, you thought he might argue, that he would try to convince you one last time. But instead, he looked at you with an expression you had never seen on his face before. There was sorrow, and regret. And the sign of an internal struggle within him.

"Then go," his final words pierced your heart, "just don't expect me to save you when everything falls apart."

Like a prophecy, everything did fall apart. The next few years were so difficult for you. You couldn't get a job, you had practically nothing left. You left the gang, but you never left the life of crime. It was the only way of living you knew.

The price on your head grew, at some point you stopped keeping track of how much it was. You had no way to redeem yourself, but there wasn't a thing you'd regret. You did what you had to in the order to survive. Regret wouldn't feed you, and it sure as hell wouldn't protect you from the men who wanted your head.

The next job was supposed to be simple. You were going to deliver a shipment of rifles to a small band of people like yourself near the border. But nothing ever went according to plan and you were ambushed. You ran, and all you knew was that now you were in Mexico, the place you were supposed to someday visit with the man you once had loved.

Coming back to America would be too risky, maybe fate just wanted for you to end up in Mexico, so after weeks of travel you thought you finally found a safer place to rest. The building looked like an abandoned house, falling apart, but it was better than the lack of any roof over your head.

You woke up one night to a group of unfamiliar male voices talking to each other outside. In Spanish, so you didn't even understand a single word. Before you could silently flee, the door opened, and you had been found by a group of Mexican bounty hunters.

Maybe it was the dehydration, the hunger, the lack of good sleep, but you could swear one man looked way too familiar.

"Javier..?" You asked quietly, to shocked to be scared by the three other men pointing their guns at you.

"¿La conoces?" One of the men asked, as Javier's shocked expression didn't go unnoticed.

["Do you know her?"]

Javier quickly recomposed himself, as if slipping into a role. "Es mía." It was a gamble, but Javier had always been good at those.

["She's mine."]

"¿De qué carajos estás hablando, Escuella?"

["What the fuck are you talking about?"]

"Vale más viva. Y no pienso compartir la recompensa. Váyanse ahora o ninguno de ustedes se va a ir caminando."

["She's worth more alive. And I'm not going to share the reward. Leave now, or none of you will walk away walking."]

The other bounty hunters passed knowing looks among each other. "Bien," one of them nudged Javier, you reckoned it was a playful gesture, "es tu problema."

["Fine, she's your problem."]

The other men left, and you were confused. How the hell were you having a reunion with Javier in such circumstances? As if out of habit, your reached for your gun, resting your hand on the holster at your hip.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, standing up.

"I could ask you the same thing, querida." He raised his hands to show you he doesn't mean bad. "I'm not going to hurt you." He's always had an accent when he spoke in English, which you had always adored. Now, the accent was even more prominent.

You pointed the gun at him, unlocking it. "Yeah, just hand me over so I can swing." You snapped. "That's the great Javier Escuella! Bounty hunting, of all things! That's ridiculous!"

"At least it's honest work. Continuing the way you chose... did you think the law will never catch up to you?"

"That's rich coming from you."

Javier's jaw muscles twitched, betraying the calmness was just a mask he put on. He lowered his hands slowly, but didn't reach for his weapon. "You don't know what I've been through. I lost everything."

"Just as I did! I've lost the gang, the life we had... you..." you paused before you seethed at him, "don't you dare act like you're the only one who's suffered. Nothing justifies selling people out for a few... whatever currency you have here."

Javier's gaze softened, you could swear you saw his lips twitch into a smirk momentarily. "I didn't sell you out, did I?"

Suddenly, the words 'then go, just don't expect me to save you when everything falls apart,' rang in your mind again. Truth be told, those words were said in anger, and right now... Javier was far from angry.

He hadn't seen you in years, but he still loved you. Maybe even more than before. After the gang fell appart, he quickly came to the conclusion you were the love of his life. There was no one better before, nor after. Meeting you again was felt like life giving him another chance.

"Why don't you sell me out, then?" You asked, lowering your weapon.

Javier smirked, as if the answer was supposed to be obvious to you. "Because I don't want you to swing, querida." He took a few steps closer, carefully as if approaching a wild animal.

"You don't get to suddenly act as if you care." Your voice was aggressive, but it sounded forced, almost cracking. "Let me go, and tell your... friends that I ran away."

"I couldn't let you go for all these years. You think I haven't thought about you every day since we parted? You think I don't regret the choices I made?"

You knew Javier has always had a way with words. In the charming way, not in the brash way Sean used to. Javier's words were like quiet, seductive whispers whenever he wanted or needed them to be. And maybe right now he just needed to sweet-talk you into giving in.

"Regret doesn't mean shit," you tried to snap at him, "you chose Dutch over me. We could leave the gang, leave a good life—"

Javier interrupted you, "Dutch knew how to get inside our heads."

"Just help me get out of here."

Javier took a deep breath, glancing outside the broken window momentarily. He could see the other bounty hunters leaving, the road's dust raising at their horses' hooves. They were far enough.

"Fine." Javier said finally, his voice disappointed.

The man grabbed your wirst, sternly but without hurting you. Now that he had you again, he was supposed to let you go. That wasn't what he wanted.

After he led you outside, you felt his grip loosen up to eventually let go of your wrist completely. Contrary to what it should make you feel, you were... disappointed? As if at some point you thought he would fight harder to win you back.

Then you realized. Javier didn't want to part ways again, but neither did you. And just when you thought there was no more hope, the man spoke up.

"You don't know this place," he said, "you're hungry, exhausted, don't know the language. Let me help you."

Your stomach had been empty for a long time, your legs ached, and the pounding in your head was getting unbearable. There were more reasons not to trust Javier, than to trust him, but you needed help. Maybe you could just sneak away after he helps you.

"And what do you get out of this?" You asked.

"I get to make up for my mistakes." He replied. "I'll show you I'm not the same man that let you go. Maybe I'll even get to keep you safe this time."

"I don't need saving. I can survive on my own."

"Not here, querida. This isn't the United States. How are you going to survive if you don't know how to even buy a damn apple in Spanish?"

Scoffing, you crossed your arms. "Don't need talking to steal."

"And make your bounty grow?" He sighed. "Admit it, you need help. Let me to that, please."

You replied after a moment of silence, "Fine. But don't think it makes up for what you did."

Javier nodded, smiling faintly. He led you to his horse, offering his hand to help you mount. Hesitantly, you took it. You pride didn't want to, but you were too exhaused.

Before climbing up himself, Javier reached for his sombrero and handed it to you. "Here."

It wasn't much, but it was better than leaving your face fully exposed, so you accepted it. You hoped wearing a man's hat didn't mean the same thing in Mexico as it did in the United States, but you tried to push that thought away regardless.

Then, you pulled the bandana from around your neck up over your face, completing the makeshift disguise. It was better than nothing, but what you really needed, were new clothes. Maybe something that wouldn't scream wanted criminal.

Some time later, a time that felt like enternity to you, Javier's horse came to a stop at a saloon. It looked as if it was about to collapse, but apparently the interior was full of life.

"Don't worry," Javier reassued you, dismounting, "most of them got a bounty on their heads. No one will care."

You reluctantly followed Javier inside. The saloon was dimly lit, and no one even seemed to care when you two walked inside. Despite the location being rather safe, Javier paid for a room, and that was where you ate your meal.

The meal wasn't fancy, but it tasted like heaven after weeks of surviving on whatever you could find. Either the saloon's cook was wasting his talent working in a place like this, or the fact that you hadn't had a proper meal in so long made it seem that way.

Javier leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you. "Good?" He asked.

You nodded, swallowing the last bite. "Yeah."

Javier watched you for a moment longer before looking away. For all the tension between you, there was something in his gaze that you recognized well. Inside the man he was now, was still the man you once loved.

He was different. Older, worn by life and everything that had happened the past few years, but so were you. Thinking about what to say next, you moved from the tiny table to the bed.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, making Javier's eyes shift back to you.

"Because..." he hesitated, "I never stopped thinking about you, about what happened. I didn't even know if you were alive. I was a fool, querida. I thought loyalty was everything, that Dutch had all the answers. Turns out he didn't, and it cost me the only thing that ever really mattered."

You didn't know what to reply. Of course, years of anger wouldn't disappear after a bunch of nice words. But it definitely cracked the surface of your shell. Part of you wanted to push him away, to protect yourself. But another part wanted to believe him, the part that saw in him your former lover.

When you didn't answer, Javier continued talking, making a bold move by sitting down on the bed. Right next to you. What it made you feel was so familiar yet so distant, you had to shift in spot, attempting to make the distance between the two of you a bit bigger. It barely worked.

Javier leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. He wasn't looking at you when he spoke. "I know I don't deserve forgiveness," he couldn't look at you when he said this, "but I need you to know I never stopped loving you."

His words were an arrow that pierced right through your heart. As painful as it was, his feelings for you never faded. Even back when he made that choice to stand by Dutch. Especially then.

You took a breath to reply, but you couldn't come up with any words. So it just sounded as if you let out a sigh. That didn't make Javier feel any better.

He turned to look at you. "I'd take it all back if I could. I'd leave it all behind for you, right here, right now. Just say the word."

It was the way he said it that finally broke your shell completely. The way his voice was vulnerable. It proved to you that he wasn't trying to manipulate you.

Without thinking, you reached for his hand. He didn't know what to do, but he surely didn't want you to let go.

"You're an idiot." You said, but your voice was soft, without malice. "But so am I for what I still feel for you."

Judgning by how he's been acting, you thought he'll catch a hint this is the moment where he kisses you. It seemed as if he was too stunned to react immediately, so you took the matters in your own hands and leaned in.

It started hesitantly. He kissed you back, but the both of you were carefully walking along the thin thread of any trust that there was left. It took Javier a moment, but his hands eventually pulled you closer. He used to think he had lost you forever, so when he finally found you again... he didn't want to let go.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Crush

Frederik Vesti x fem!reader, George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: it’s just a stupid crush from her earlier days of fangirling. But when she gets to meet him, it’s not that stupid anymore…

Warnings: cheating; infidelity; curse words; implied smut; no use of Y/N; fluff and love; heartbreak

A/N: I really struggled with this one, I wrote this a while ago, when my English wasn’t my cup of tea so I spent a lot of time with editing, rewriting, but after all I think it’s good. Also it’s another fic about cheating (and I’m writing another already, heh), I think that I might need a serious help in this matter, but whatever, I like to write it, however I wouldn’t do that to anybody I love. Enjoy it!

Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

“Are you really ready for this?” Fred said to her hair while she stood in front of the mirror, putting on her jewellery.

“I’m more than ready, Fred. I want to be there for you.” Her nerves were getting the best out of her, but she tried to smile and not worry him much.

They were together for more than a year. Frederick Vesti was driver for Prema team in F2 and he was considered being reserve driver for Mercedes F1 team. Today was a big day for him, he was supposed to get through a practice day at the track for F1. Rookies did that through the season, getting this opportunity from the teams on the grid.

As they arrived to the paddock hand in hand, fans were everywhere trying to get the best snapshots of them. She smiled and held her head high but inside, she was nervous as hell and Fred could tell from the grip of her hand. He just switched his hand from hers over her shoulders in protective way. They got through the crowds to the Mercedes garage, where was the usual chaos.

“Fred! Good you’re here already. And who might this be?” Toto, the Mercedes team principal, was at them with questioning look.

“Hey, Toto. This is my girlfriend.” Fred introduced her with smile.

“Nice to meet you.” Toto offered his hand to her as she accepted it with smile.

“Nice to meet you too, I’m glad to be here.”

“You need to find George. It’s his car you're gonna be driving today.” Toto said and was gone in an instant.

She felt her cheeks being hot. George was her crush from earlier days she’s been watching racing. When she met Fred, she didn’t know that he’s driver. But she wouldn’t change a thing. She’s way past her crush. Right?

“Are you alright? Is everything okay?” Fred gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry. I’m actually enjoying myself.” she chuckled a little.

After some more greetings, they met with George.

“Fred! All lookin’ good! Oh, hey, nice to meet you too, finally. Fred was always talking about you.” George was sparkling with joy as he talked and greeted with her. She smiled widely at him, her dream came true.

“She’s talking about you too, actually.” Fred nudged her shoulder with chuckle.

“Oh no- that’s not-“ she felt her cheeks hot, trying to deny it. She wasn’t talking that much, but she maybe pinpointed it a few times.

George genuinely laughed about it, flashing her his significant smile.

“That’s okay. More fans, more success I guess.”

As they went through the preparations, she focused on Fred, always knew how he was stressed to do the best job and how he was nervous around Toto. When it was the time for him to hop into the car, she went quickly towards him and kissed him for good luck.

“Take care outside. I’m watching.” She smiled, caressing his cheek with loving gaze, which made Fred relax a bit.

“You’re gonna be proud of me.”

“I already am.”

They didn’t notice how George was watching them. Frederik having that good looking girl was almost a crime. And the way she was blushing around him. Oh no, that’s not appropriate, George, Carmen is somewhere around here waiting for you.

She walked to stood beside George, letting out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Feeling scared?” He asked with a soft smile of empathy.

“Always. I’m actually scared shitless every time he gets in that car.” She chuckled nervously.

“Would you like to get some coffee? It’s gonna be an hour or so before he gets back and I’m not allowed to be anywhere close.” He suggested.

“That’s good idea. But I need to be close to the track, I need to watch him.” She smiled.

As they made it to the top roof of the VIP lounge with their cups of coffee, she eagerly watched the track for a sign of Frederik. When she spotted him, she waved a little with excited smile.

George was watching her, how she was excited for her boyfriend, how she seemed to love the racing. And how she waved at that car. His car. And how he would like that she would be waving at him. No, no, George, these thoughts are not for you.

She sipped a little from her cup of coffee as she turned her look at George.

“So, where’s Carmen?” She asked feeling her insides clenching at her name.

“Mmm I think she’s with other girls from the grid. She’s not spending much time outside of the Mercedes hospitality as she wants her own peace. At least she’s here and it gives me some comfort also.” He answered looking into the blank space.

She quirked her brow at those words. “Hm… everyone have it’s own way of spending their time here. Even if this is my first time, I feel like I belong here more than anywhere else. I know how it feels like being on the other side, sitting on the grid tribune and hoping some driver would take notice of me. Not that I would be so desperate, but I saw you one time I was at Hungaroring, and I naively thought that you just waved at me. Silly me.” She laughed softly as she spoke and she wasn’t really sure why she told him this but it made sense to her at the time.

His eye softened at her confession. He would wave at her if he knew. Fuck, again, George?

“How you and Fred met? You’re not together for long, are you?”

“Actually, it was kind of funny. I was in Denmark last spring and I was just walking around the park with my AirPods on and somehow I crossed his path, when he was riding a bike. He fell in the nearby pond, trying to avoid the crash. And I felt so guilty that I apologised nearly thousand times. We shared laughs, stories and it clicked instantly. It was a year and half already and I couldn’t imagine to have someone better by my side. We decided to take it slow and not to worry about public eye. But now we’re here, taking another step in our relationship.” As she talked she was somehow in her dreamy haze when she smiled at the memories. Fred was truly an amazing partner, supportive, loving, everything she wanted in a man.

“That sounds like a scene from the cheesy rom com. No offense.” George tried to chuckle in funny way, brushing off another of his thoughts.

“Yeah, it may, but it’s true. I didn’t consider myself lucky until that day I met him.” She chuckled, taking another sip of her coffee.

Today, I’m the luckiest. Holy shit, George, get a grip man.

As she caught a glimpse of Fred in the car getting through another lap, Carmen appeared out of nowhere finding George.

“Hi, gorgeous, I was looking for you.” Carmen smiled, sneaking her hands around his waist while eyeing her. She turned her look from track at Carmen and she smiled politely.

“You must be Carmen. Nice to meet you.” She offered her hand to her with kind smile. George noticed the confusion of his girlfriend.

“She’s here with Frederik, who is on the track instead of me, like I told you. She wanted to have the best view over the track.” George knew how to navigate Carmen’s feelings to get her comfort. Carmen on the other hand relaxed.

“Ah, I see, nice to meet you too. Your first time here?”

“First time at the paddock, but overall not quite first time. I know the drill.”

“So, you’re a fan. Who is your favourite driver?”

“It’s Fred of course..”

“No, I mean, beside your boyfriend.”

“You mean before I met Fred? I was fan girl for Max Verstappen.” She chuckled as she lied smoothly. George snorted a little, but Carmen was satisfied with the answer.

“But that days are long gone, I don’t have time for fan girling over someone else beside my man.” She smiled looking over track again.

George felt strange jealousy. Carmen wasn’t like that for a long time. Yes, she was supporting him from aback, but she was more into her own stuff that came with being his girlfriend.

Fred got the fastest lap during the practice. When he came back to the garage, everybody congratulated him, bringing the joy and excitement to his performance. But the first person he wanted to see was his girlfriend. She nearly jumped into his arms with giggles.

“You were amazing.”

“Thanks, I was shaking throughout the whole session.”

She kissed his cheek, when she caught George staring at them from afar. He noticed that and he cleared his throat, going to look over performance sheets.

Fred spent another hour with him going through his performance on the track. She spent her time aside, going through her own business.

From that day on, Fred was spending much more time over the Mercedes garage during the races. She wasn’t always able to attend, but she tried as much as she could. She became a very good friend with George and others in the team. Carmen tried to talk with her also, but she held that strange distance between them.

On the other hand, George tried to suppress his thoughts and feelings towards her.

———

There was a party after the qualifying day in Montreal, she arrived in the last minute feeling badly jet lagged. As she was getting her third drink of the night, she felt a little tipsy, the tiredness wearing her off. Fred was enjoying himself maybe too much, he was drunk as hell and dancing with the guys, completely forgetting about his girlfriend, who was standing beside a bar downing her drink, deciding to get some sleep. George saw her and he was on his way to her.

“Not enjoying the party?” George was beside her startling her a little.

“Holy shit, George… no, I’m- I’m tired and Fred is having fun himself.” she sighed as she went to the elevator and George went after her.

“I saw how he’s having fun, totally ditching you.” George crossed his arms.

“He’s just stressed he needs to release some tension.”

“And what about you? You don’t need to release tension?”

She looked up at him with a little confused expression.

“What- No. I don’t need that.” Her cheeks were getting hot from the way he talked and from the way he was close. The elevator dinged her level of hotel room and she walked out quickly. George went after her in silence.

“Why are you not at party? Why are you here with me?” She turned on her heels, when she reached the door of her hotel room. George leaned against the wall as he looked at her.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Look, George. I noticed. I noticed how you’re looking at me when you think that nobody’s looking.”

George scoffed looking to the side. “That’s not true.”

“Whatever. Good night.” She unlocked the door to her room but he grabbed her by her arm, she wasn’t even able to open the door and he was dragging her to the direction of his room.

“George- what-“

In a moment they were in his room, she was standing in the middle looking furious at him while he closed the door and looked at her with dark look. The room was soaked in his scent and it made her mind going crazy.

“You’re crazy.” She said to break the silence.

“I am. Into you.” With that words he closed the gap between them, kissing her. She gasped in shock, trying to push him away first, but then she melted into his touch deepening the kiss. It was a sign for him to pull her closer to him as his right hand went to her hair and his left hand rested on her back.

She pushed him away after a while and he just looked at her with desire in his eyes.

“This- we can’t- it’s wrong.” She stuttered while her hand trailed from his neck to his chest.

“I need you. And I’m not gonna stop until the moment I’ll have you.” He said his hand caressing her cheek while his thumbs brushed off her lower lip.

“Shit, George…” she whispered and continued to kiss him.

Next morning she woke up beside Frederik. Remembering what happened last night, she felt a pang in her chest. Taking a cold shower it felt slightly better, but when she looked over to the mirror her eyes went wide with horror. The way her body was bruised, it looked like someone attacked her. Luckily her neck was untouched, so she could put on her shirt and jeans and it looked good. When she walked out the bathroom, Fred was awake, totally hungover.

“Hey, babe. I’m so sorry for last night.” Fred started to speak while the confusion was overtaking him. She got to him as she hugged him tightly. He just relaxed into her arms with smile.

“It’s okay. But please don’t get this drunk again. You were a real mess when you arrived here.” she chuckled a little. It was sort of true. At night she was in the room for a ten minutes after her heated session with George, when Fred was drunkenly trying to get into their room. She only managed to get him to the bed because he was already sleeping.

“I don’t remember anything. I’m so sorry.” Fred just rested his head in the crook of her neck.

“Don’t worry about it, Freddie. But we need to get you in shape because today is a race day.” She laughed at his groan.

She knew that meeting George was inevitable. At least Carmen wasn’t there, so she wouldn’t be looking at her all day.

As they arrived at the paddock, Lando spotted them and joined them.

“So, Fred, you enjoyed yourself last night?”

“Ehm, yeah. Pretty much.”

Lando turned at her with curious look. “What about you? I saw you walking away rather early.”

“I was just so tired from that jet lag. I needed some sleep.” With that words they happened to meet George at the entrance of the garage.

“Hey, mate! We really ruined Fred last night, didn’t we?” Lando grinned at George while she looked at him with amused smile, thinking that he was also so wasted that he didn’t notice George being gone for the most of the evening.

“Yeah, we really did. You need to work on your stamina, Fred.” George chuckled as his eyes flicked at Grace for the brief moment.

“This man needs to get prepared for his business today, see you later.” she pushed Fred forward as she wasn’t in a mood to talk more. Fred just chuckled, getting his arm over her shoulder to move her closer to him.

George saw that little gesture and he felt extremely jealous, his mind was filled with the things he did with her last night.

Watching Fred from the VIP lounge, she enjoyed her alone time. Being in Montreal wasn’t the best idea and she now knew why. Looking over her watch, she really pushed time forward, longing to get back to London and get away from all the thoughts that filled her mind.

“I knew you’d be here.” It was George, now standing beside her, his race suit on along with his sunglasses, looking like he’s not giving single fuck about anything.

“Where else would I be?” She sighed with obvious smile.

“We need to talk about last night.”

“No we don’t. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Wasn’t it? I have Fred and you have Carmen.”

“I just-“

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

George just nodded and walked away. Throughout the day, they avoided each other. Fred talked her into spending some more time in the Mercedes garage, to get to know who won the GP. George ended up second. She and Fred stood under the podium, everything was overwhelming so when George received the trophy, she felt her cheeks being wet. He locked his eyes with hers in soft gaze as he smiled like he always did at her. So nice, pretty and loving. It was moment only for them. Something that never was and never will be.

“Love, you’re crying.” Fred said with soft voice, trying to brush her tears off.

“It’s just a joy from all of this.” She grinned suppressing her heartbroken smile.

“You’re really into this with your whole heart.” Fred smiled as he pulled her into his arms. She looked up at George again, he was watching them his eyes filled with tears too, but everybody thought it was tears of happiness. She turned her head to the other side of the podium and it was the last look she took at George for a very long time.

———

Months passed and the racing season was nearing its end. From the Canada she didn’t attend any races or events saying that she’s under pressure of being a good girlfriend and she didn’t want to be at spotlight. Frederik respected it, but at first he found it hard to understand it. But they got used to it and she tried to make him believe that it eventually gets better over time.

It was November, everyone was getting prepared for Christmas. Frederik got on his plane to get to Brazil as she went shopping some presents. She really loved Christmas at London.

“I’m already on the plane, I’m excited guys. My first Brazil!” - Fred

“Is your beloved coming with you to see that too?” - Lewis

“No, she’s not well with the crowds still and she decided to decorate our flat for Christmas.” - Fred

George sat in the headquarters at Brackley eating his snack, while he read the group conversation with his teammates. As he turned his phone down he looked a little zoned out.

“Hey, George. It looks our flight is delayed because of the weather. We’re coming tomorrow night or maybe the day after.” His manager said to him with frown.

George looked up at him with a soft smile. “Actually it’s okay, I need to get something done.”

———

She felt pretty content with the atmosphere around her. With her bags on her shoulder, she walked to the café at the corner in front of the apartment complex she was living with Fred. Sitting next to the huge glass window she had a beautiful view to the Christmas tree on the square. Feeling the warmth of the mug with coffee in her hands, she was looking outside. Suddenly a figure walked around the window and she caught the glimpse of the man. He looked away but abruptly he looked back to her direction. It was George. She couldn’t stop staring, surprised to see him after that long time. He looked surprised too, but didn’t hesitate a second and he stepped inside the café, slowly approaching the table she was sitting at.

She stood from the chair still holding his gaze. He took a few quick steps towards her and he hugged her. His embrace was tight and warm, it felt like being home. She hugged him back getting him even closer to her, his scent filling her senses. For quite some time they just stood there, hugging each other. Then she pulled back from him looking into his eyes.

“Coffee?”

George only nodded as he sat across from her at the table. She got him a coffee and sat back to her chair.

“You’re supposed to be on your way to Brazil.”

“My flight was delayed. I’m coming tomorrow or day after. I don’t know still for sure.”

“How come you’re in London?”

“I was at Brackley, getting some preparations done.”

“That’s not London.”

“I saw in our group chat, that you’re not coming and that you’re staying here at home. Maybe I’m crazy, but I wanted to find you and talk to you. I can’t bear it anymore.”

He looked at her with desperation over his face. Her eyes softened at his confession.

“I’m sorry about you and Carmen. You were truly a power couple.”

“How can you look into Fred’s eyes? When I’m the one you love.”

“What… How can you tell who I love or not?”

“You’re avoiding me by not going to races. You shut down your socials and you’re not answering my texts. You’re clearly running away from something.”

“That’s not your business, George. Even if… even if there would be any possibility of us being together, how would I appear in the public eye, in the eyes of your teammates, supporting you instead of him? I don’t want to be a bitch.”

“And yet you’re still thinking about others and not about you. What do you want? What you truly and really want?”

She ran her hand through her hair, looking around, trying to avoid the answer to that question.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not in mood for this. I want my peace. It’s gonna be Christmas for the god's sake!”

“What is that one thing you want? You don’t want peace, you don’t want perfect Christmas, you want passion, you want to be that girl at the tribune waving and screaming at her favourite drivers.”

“It’s not that-“

“Just say it!”

“You! I want you! Holy shit, George! I wanted you from the first time I laid my eyes on you a long time ago!”

She really said that loudly. Her hand went on her mouth as she was shocked by the strange flutter in her chest from that words.

George exhaled in relief, his frustrations fading away. Hearing her saying it shook his entire core. He wouldn’t even think that this woman would change his life to the point he’d be so desperate for her.

“What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.”

She invited him over to the flat she shared with Fred. She made dinner for them, they ate together and ended up watching some reality show at the TV. All of that filled with loving gazes, soft laughs and sweet touches. She was curled on the sofa her head in the George’s lap while she was watching TV and enjoying his hand caressing her hair. It felt so natural that they nearly forgot about the real world around them. Suddenly she rolled over on her back looking up at him. George looked down at her with questioning look.

“What?”

“Nothing. I could just look at you for my whole life and that wouldn’t be enough.”

He took her hand into his, bringing it to his lips and placing it on his cheek leaning into her palm. Feeling the warmth of her skin, he felt like he would do anything to not break this moment. He was falling deeper and deeper into the pool of love.

She prepared for him the towel and some oversized clothes she had herself in the bathroom as she was done with showering. George, like a gentleman he was, wanted to sleep on the couch at first but she denied that idea. She prepared the guest room for them, because she didn’t want for him to sleep in the bedroom she shared with Fred.

Waiting for George to come to bed, she was half asleep when he slipped under the covers.

“Just sleep, love. Enjoy our little universe, where it’s only us for tonight.” He whispered into her hair pulling her closer to him.

“Mhm… good night, George….” She said softly as she drifted off to sleep.

In the morning they were woken up by ringing of his phone. George groaned as he answered the call.

“…yeah?”

“Where are you? I got us an early plane, we need to get to the Heathrow in three hours.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be there on time.”

She stirred in her sleep, waking up to George smiling at her. It was sight for sore eyes and she smiled sleepily.

“Good morning. Sorry for waking you up, but my manager clearly have some trust issues with me.”

George kissed her forehead as she chuckled and hugged him tight humming into his chest.

“You need to get to Brazil, I know. I don’t want this moment to end.”

“One day, I’ll give you thousands of these moments…” he placed a kiss on the top of her head holding her close.

After quick breakfast, George was ready to go and it was time to say goodbye. They stood in the hallway of the flat, her hand brushing over his jacket with a sad smile.

“Be careful out there. And don’t forget that I’m watching you on the track. I’m with you even if I’m not.”

“I love you. I need to say it.”

“I love you too, George. I always had.”

Race weekend at Brazil went by and Fred was home by Sunday midnight. She spent whole weekend chatting with George over texts. She really didn’t know, how to handle the situation with Fred.

Sitting in the living room, Fred walked into the room, his face holding a strange expression.

“Hey, Freddie. How was your flight?” she smiled softly, slowly getting from the sofa to walk to him.

“Hey.. It was… it was good.” He answered quickly with a nervous smile.

She looked at him with confusion while he slightly backed away from her.

“What’s wrong with you, Fred?”

He ran a hand through his hair in slight frustration. He couldn’t even look into her eyes. She felt scared that he might know something, but she tried to stay calm.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I did something… I can’t even look at you right now.”

“Fred, what-“

She tried to grab his hand but he flinched away.

“I… we were at the party with the boys at Saturday and… there was this girl I… she’s test driver for Ferrari and I always had a crush on her and we talked and…”

“You slept with her.”

She said it so casually that it surprised her. Fred shot her a look with guilt.

“It’s not that I don’t love you, but… you’re so distant and I needed to feel… wanted.”

She nodded, deep down feeling the strange relief that she doesn’t need to get her own secret out to spotlight.

“Look, Fred… I thought about us a lot… I love you, but it’s not the same as it was. You’re great person, caring, loving and kind. But I feel stuck. I’m not myself. And I don’t want to hurt you by my distant behaviour, you deserve so much more.”

Fred looked at her with nod.

“You’re so kind. You also deserve so much more.” He hugged her. She relaxed into his arms feeling relieved inside.

“You’re gonna always be my friend. No matter what. Just go for that girl. If she’s your dream come true, make it reality. Because she’d make you happy.”

———

Within weeks they sold their apartment and started to live on their own. Fred was all over his feelings into that Ferrari girl, he was sharing it with his ex-girlfriend, because why not, she was happy for him.

Time flew by and another season of racing started.

Being at Bahrain was a first time for her. Same as being a girlfriend to the famous F1 driver.

Fred was supposed to be there with Elle, the Ferrari girl, and it was also her first appearance as a George’s girlfriend.

George parked the car near the entrance of the paddock. She exhaled shakily, trying to be calm.

“Are you alright, love?” He grabbed one of her hands, while she nodded with smile.

“I’m good, George.”

They entered the paddock and crowds went wild. Everybody wanted a photo with them, but George politely refused trying to make it to the garage quickly. She gave her smiles all around them, trying to be nice.

Lando met them near the garages and he froze in his tracks in shock.

“Holy fucking hell!”

Both of them looked at him with surprise. Lando walked closer to them crossing his arms on chest.

“How did you do it?”

She looked at him confused. “What?”

“Hide this!” Lando grabbed their intertwined hands.

“Eh-“

“No way! What a surp-“ Fred came out of the Mercedes garage with wide smile in a surprise to see her there, but when he saw how George was holding her hand, his face changed into shock.

“Surprise indeed. Hey, Fred.” she smiled kindly, giving him a side hug. Fred got out of his trance, looking at her and then back at George.

“You two- you are-“

Elle, the Ferrari girl, joined them as she heard Fred talking to someone. “Hi! We didn’t expect you here! What a nice surprise!”

George was confused about situation maybe more than Lando, whose jaw was dropped on the ground.

“Hey, Elle, yes, it’s a surprise. And yes, me and George are together, as a couple.” she chuckled at the absurdity of the moment.

“Hm… I understand now.” Fred said with smirk, which was something that took her aback.

“What are you talking about?”

“I noticed how you two were looking at each other. Now it makes sense.” Fred smiled genuinely.

She lifted her gaze at George with her loving gaze while George was already looking at her, absolutely mesmerised.

“I might get a diabetes from how sweet all of you are.” Lando said with laugh.

[sunnysidesevenup]

IT’S TIME TO TALK ABOUT THIS RIDICULOUS SHIP.

Y’all said you’d be interested in a post like this, so I’m here to deliver.

Tilly and Fellow spend the first year of knowing each other sabotaging the other’s life. Fellow and Gidel are running a scam? There Tilly is to ruin it! Tilly’s been tricking a local clothing store into giving him items? Well, Fellow’s given his photo to the local police and now he can’t “shop” there anymore. The two have a job? Well, Tilly is going to hang out during their shifts and bother them the whole time!

Tilly, for the most part, views this as a very fun game they’re playing. Fellow, however, HATES him. Why won’t this guy leave him alone?! Why is he determined to mess with him?!

Things start changing when Fellow picks up on certain things Tilly does, although it takes him a while to notice because he’s so blinded by annoyance.

First: how Tilly treats Gidel.

He frequently attempts to “steal” Gidel to his side, and in the process he gives him food, clothes and toys. Gidel never accepts, of course, but Fellow is still annoyed because that’s HIS brother!! He can’t take his brother!! But then Tilly keeps giving him stuff. I mean, he must know that all the food he’s giving is being split between the two of them, right? And then Fellow notices that Tilly brings them more food when he knows they’re running low. HOW he knows, they have no idea, but he does it too many times for it to just be a coincidence. Fellow has no idea why he’s doing this, either. Is it mockery? Pity? Whatever it is, it kind of pisses him off.

The second thing he notices about Tilly is his recklessness. While Fellow and Gidel have back up plans and ways to run away whenever they try to pull anything, Tilly apparently just walks into danger with no intention of getting out of it at all. I mean, what is he doing?! TRYING to get killed? Fellow may hate the guy, but he’s a source of food at this point, so… well, he supposes he can pull him out of danger sometimes. And it’s hard to hate the guy as much when he looks beat up, so it’s better for him to be in full health for maximum hatred, okay?!

The third thing he notices: Tilly’s weird considerate behavior.

It took a while to pick up on, but once Fellow sees it, he can’t get it out of his head. The guy spends half of his day playing with the street children, finding them food and shelter. He only steals from people he knows can afford it. He never does anything to him or Gidel if they can’t get out of it. He gives his food to other people even if he hasn’t eaten that day, he lets some of the kids pickpocket him even when he clearly knows what they’re doing, and on top of this all: Tilly is in NO position to be doing any of this!!! He’s not even staying anywhere, he sleeps in abandoned buildings or sometimes in people’s houses if he can trick them into it. He doesn’t even own a backpack full of belongings: he just walks into stores and changes clothes and then leaves. He’s not eating enough food, he’s not sleeping enough, he doesn’t have ANY self preservation and yet he has the AUDACITY to be kind to people?!

Nope, no, Fellow is NOT having a guy like THAT keep harassing him.

And suddenly, Tilly is staying with him and Gidel some nights. Not all the time, because he’s NOT dealing with his presence that often, but just… sometimes. And then they’re sharing food with him. And then he’s staying over MORE, and Tilly is sharing more things with them, too, and then suddenly they’re practically working together. But it’s just for survival, okay?! It’s the smart choice.

And then Fellow and Gidel get the job offer to Playful Land, and Tilly says no to joining them. He’s never worked a day in his life and he’s not going to start now, so… they go do the job alone. Tilly visits once, to see what they’re doing (and Fellow of course tries to turn him into a puppet, not permanently! Just to show him who’s better, okay?) and Tilly HATES it.

“Why are you working for some rich guy? You’re better than that.”

And it pisses Fellow off again, like EVERYTHING about Tilly, because what right does he have to say that? HE might be content having nothing, but FELLOW isn’t, and he should just leave if it bothers him that much—it’s too much effort looking after him all the time, anyways!

And for the first time Tilly looks actually hurt by something, and Fellow regrets saying it. But it’s over just as fast, and he’s back to normal, and he’s actually leaving. And he doesn’t come back. And neither of them hear from him.

Which is good! Fellow is VERY happy about this, of course. He was too troublesome to look after, and he was probably going to get himself killed one of these days anyways, and he wonders what he’s doing right now….. he’s probably in trouble right now, isn’t he? Is he eating fine? Where’s he sleeping? He better be actually sleeping in a building and not on the ground…

…Okay, so Fellow MIGHT care about the guy. Just a bit.

-

Just a general overview ^^ this post is getting a bit long so I’ll leave it here for now lol.

Tagging the ppl who said they’d be interested in this (let me know if you don’t want to be tagged):

@gimmeurmoneyagh @kirexa @riamustars @rainythealias

[begrudging-fudanshi]

So i stared reading windbreaker after i saw your post about it , it's wholesome manga with amazing fights

in your opinion Why didn't nii satoru reveal Sakura's past until now ? Why was Sakura alone ?

Hell yeah. Welcome to the fandom. I'm glad my propaganda has been working.

To be honest, I've been thinking about this series way too much over the last couple weeks, so this is probably going to be A Lot. I am dumping a lot of accumulated thoughts in here and simultaneously trying to keep a bunch of other thoughts from cluttering it up. If any of this feels disjointed, it's because I've been trying (I swear) to not make this like 10,000 words long lmao.

(CW: Wind Breaker manga spoilers + discussion of child neglect, trauma, feelings of worthlessness, parental loss, grief, and a suicide attempt in the context of the series. Hope you're ready for some pain.)

I'm going to answer your questions in reverse order, because I think they're actually very closely connected.

Sadly, my read on Sakura's past is really dark. Based on what we know so far, there's a lot to suggest that Sakura has been badly neglected for a long time, both physically and emotionally. Based on his lifestyle and the way he talks about himself, I really struggle to believe that he's received any genuine affection or care in many years, if ever. (I'm so glad he was able to go to Furin.)

The flashbacks at the start of episode 1 of the anime suggest he was taken in by relatives who didn't want him, and I think they basically set him up for failure in every way. They seem to have done the bare minimum required of them by the law, like sending him to school, but I can see no evidence that they did much of anything else. Like, what kind of asshole sends a 15-year-old kid to live alone in a barren apartment with literally nothing to wear except his school uniform? Caring people wouldn't let a kid live like that. (That said, I have a bad feeling that his lifestyle seen in chapter 56 is an upgrade compared to what he had before.)

Given this, it's clear Sakura really means it when he says he's always done things by himself. I think this is why he looks so torn up when his friends show him real kindness and why he's so sensitive to anyone showing affection. I also think this means that he really wants to forget his past. This is a big part of why we haven't seen it revealed yet: Sakura isn't ready to revisit it, himself.

---

Something interesting about Wind Breaker's backstories is that they all (as far as I and my notes can remember) follow a consistent pattern. They're not just lore dumps that tell us about the character's past. They actually follow each character through a process of changing their beliefs about themselves, often based on their view of the past. This is why they're all in the first person. Some of these changes happen in the present while others are part of flashbacks, but either way the process is basically the same.

In each backstory, the character starts out believing something about themselves that gives rise to a contradiction that keeps them trapped. This belief somehow keeps them from living their best life and, often, stops them from changing their ways to make their best life possible. However, someone else helps them challenge that belief, giving rise to a revelation that lets them change how they see themselves. This change enables them to see new possibilities and lets them move forward towards the life they want.

For example:

Umemiya believed his parents would blame him for their deaths, so he couldn't let himself grieve them nor believe that he deserved to live. His guilt blocked out his memory of the event, keeping him from remembering what really happened. However, a nameless(?) Furin student and Shitara helped him realize that his parents saved him and were happy to see him survive. Thus, he was able to grieve and imagine a future for himself other than his self-destruction.

Kaji believed that his rage was uncontrollable and couldn't even see himself as human. Hiragi helped him realize that he could manage his triggers and change his behavior to be able to find acceptance and live his life.

Tsubaki believed that she couldn't like pretty things or express herself how she wanted. Ito and Yui helped her learn to dress up and present herself the way she liked, allowing her to accept herself and transition. (I know she's not canonically transgender but that's still the best way I can see to describe it.)

After Yui's death, Ito believed that she might never have truly loved him. Tsubaki, Sakura, Suo, and Nirei help him realize the secret meaning of the tree that she planted in his garden, letting him live his life without worrying if she was truly happy.

What's important here is that the character must be ready to have their beliefs about themselves challenged so they can understand their full truth. Otherwise, their story of their past would be incomplete. (Consider what Umemiya's backstory would have sounded like if he still believed he was a murderer.) In fact, we already have an example of this that I'll get to, next.

Because Sakura isn't yet in a position to challenge the beliefs holding him back, he can't reveal his past, either. He has friends helping him, but it's going to be a while before they've truly shaken his most unhelpful beliefs.

---

That said, this process has actually played out with Sakura once before and I think it tells us a lot. It shows us exactly why he's not ready to reveal his past.

In chapter 1, Sakura starts out believing that he's meant to always be alone, leading him to initially reject the people of Makochi. Then, Kotoha helps him acknowledge that he does want to be accepted and convinces him to give it a shot. However, while this is great progress and very necessary for Sakura's growth, this isn't a complete resolution. He still has an even more deep-seated belief that has to be addressed.

In addition to asserting that he's meant to be alone, Sakura also lays out another belief in chapter 1 that I argue really gets to the root of his deepest trauma. He doesn't quite say it explicitly, but it underpins both his belief that he's meant to be alone and that he's worth nothing but his fists.

The closest he comes to naming it is when he describes Furin. He says it's "The lowest of the low, hated by all others, worth nothing but their fists … It's a battle to determine the trashiest of the trash. That suits me perfectly."

I have to admit, the first few times I heard and read this, I completely missed how fucked up it is for a 15-year-old kid to say this about himself. I think I've gotten so used to taking shonen protagonists' confident declarations at face value that I just didn't question it, in the same way I've learned not to question, say, 12-year-old Gon deciding to become a pro hunter and travel the world fighting adults. The way it's presented very deliberately (and, I think, cleverly) blunts the impact as well, making use of shonen stylistic conventions to disguise it as stereotypical shonen protagonist bluster. This mirrors how Sakura masks his deeper feelings about himself.

However, as I read through the rest of the manga, it became clear that this is what Sakura actually, deeply believes. He's 15 years old and he truly sees himself as trash—in other words, worthless. The only way he can imagine finding worth in himself is through his strength. Even then, this is only for Sakura himself. He can't let himself imagine anyone else ever valuing him for any reason, so he must find self-worth all on his own. To put it more sharply, he can't imagine deserving unconditional love. Based on what little we do know about his past, this belief stems from a lifetime of emotional neglect.

The thing is, Sakura's belief that he's worthless is actually, paradoxically, a coping mechanism. As horrible as it is, it helps him rationalize his life in a way that lets him keep living despite his neglect and isolation. If he's truly worthless, then he's never had a reason to expect being loved or accepted by anyone—he's always been meant to be alone. This is how he can tell himself that he doesn't care and has given up. This lets him bury the pain of his isolation and pretend it doesn't truly hurt. By believing that he has always been worthless and unable to be (to deserve being) loved, he has had no reason to get his hopes up for the future, nor any reason to question why he's been treated so badly in the past. He can accept it (has to accept it), even if he hates it, because it was always inevitable.

Notice how Sakura reminds himself that he's given up right before punching the Spaltips' leader in chapter 1. This is the story he tells himself to contain the hurt. He does something similar in chapter 56, reminding himself that he's supposed to be alone as he grapples with his friends' kindness. He bludgeons himself with this reminder as a way to push away thoughts about his past. He then shifts his focus to thinking about his growing care for his friends rather than his feelings about himself. Once again, Sakura makes himself turn away.

The trouble is, this belief is his only means of holding back an unfathomable amount of pain inside of him. It's the only way he knows how to live with all the myriad ways he's been treated like shit. To doubt his own worthlessness, therefore, is to expose himself to overwhelming grief. Because, if he isn't worthless, he then has to ask himself why he had to suffer for so long. That kind of question is too awful for him—for pretty much anyone—to face on their own. This coping mechanism protects him, but it also traps him and prevents him from finding relief.

This comes to a head in chapter 1, as the townspeople surround him and the old woman tries to tend to his wound. As she reaches towards him, he screams at her to stay away. This act of genuine kindness fills him with terror. It's not just that he fears eventual rejection—Sakura fears the idea he could be accepted at all. Remember, he's just "failed" to win the fight and, worse, ended up having to be protected because he got hurt. Sakura could accept Kotoha's kindness earlier because he "earned" it by stopping her attackers, but now there's someone trying to help him for what feels like no reason. For Sakura, who must believe that he was never meant to be loved or accepted, being shown kindness for no apparent reason feels like an existential threat. It threatens to undermine the walls that he's built inside of him to keep going. This is why he allows Kotoha to help him instead—he can still rationalize her help as transactional.

This rationalization provides his means of escape. To accept his place in Makochi, he only has to accept that he doesn't have to be alone. He doesn't have to believe that he can be valued or loved unconditionally, nor that he deserved anything better. Instead, Sakura finds a way to "earn" his acceptance: The chapter culminates with Sakura accepting Bofurin, which he shows by leaping over all the others to kick the Spaltips' leader in the face.

By showing his strength, by upstaging the heroes and claiming his place among them, Sakura proves (to himself) that he is strong enough to be accepted. Rather than accept that he could always have been valued and accepted unconditionally—that he always could have been loved—Sakura would rather believe he's earned his acceptance based on his strength.

In this way, Sakura can continue to believe in his own worthlessness, saving himself from having to face his past. Because of this, even as he's learned that he can be accepted, he still maintained his belief that he was meant to be alone from the start (again, see chapter 56). This lets him continue to justify his past suffering and minimize his own pain.

This comes back around in chapter 162, when Sakura's classmates talk about his low self-esteem. Despite their efforts to show him that he's loved and valued, Sakura ultimately still believes he's only worth his strength. We see how he rejects Umemiya's praise, unable to understand how he could be praised when he "failed". Sakura can't believe he could be valued when he couldn't even single-handedly save the town.

But, as long as he believes this, his past will remain a mystery, not just to his friends and to us as readers, but even to Sakura himself. Just as Umemiya's repression kept him from realizing that his parents loved him, Sakura's repression keeps him from realizing that he has always deserved to be loved. He cannot acknowledge, can't even recognize, the pain he's endured in his life, because he still has to believe it didn't matter. Because of this, he can't let himself grieve or admit that he has always deserved better. He's still trapped believing he must always prove his worth through his strength alone.

Of course, changing this isn't going to be easy. He will get there. His friends will help him through it. Still, it's going to be rough. I think it'll be a while yet before he's ready to tell us about his past.

---

Addendum

All of that being said, something I really love about Wind Breaker is how hopeful it is and the way it shows Sakura living despite his past. To that end, I want to note one last thing: Sakura can still smile, despite everything else. No matter what he tells himself, he still feels hope.

I mentioned above that I didn't recognize Sakura's low self-esteem at first because it's masked with stereotypical shonen protagonist confidence. I think this is very deliberate by the author. We're supposed to see Sakura as cool, confident, and badass in the beginning, only to realize that he's also hurting inside. (Emphasis: that's also, not instead. These aren't mutually exclusive.) Sakura's cocky grin is part of a mask he wears, but it's not a lie.

While I believe Sakura has suffered a lot, it's important to emphasize that he's not broken or doomed to drown in grief. What I've laid out here is what I believe is going on beneath the surface, and I do believe he's going to have to face his trauma eventually, but let's not forget that our boy can still smile after all of that. The fact that he can smile doesn't mean that he's not hurting, but the fact that he's hurting doesn't mean he only feels pain. Let's not do him dirty by miring our view of him in grief. Instead, as we acknowledge how much he's suffered, let's also be happy at just how far he's come and hopeful for how far he'll go in the future.

[catghoul31]

Those Damned Claws

Logan's lived with the consequences of almost never using his claws until recently for decades now. Some days are worse than others, but Wade has been a huge help recently.

If only they weren't both having a "worse day" today.

(for @poolverine-week Day 5: Chronic Pain)

Content Warnings: PTSD memories, implied suicidal thoughts

Read it under the cut, or on ao3!

Upon walking into their apartment, Logan rubbed between the knuckles of the hand that had just grabbed the doorknob, right where three red sore spots throbbed uncomfortably. It was yet another day for him where, however painful it was, his claws just wouldn’t retract all the way...

“Whiskey dick of the claws,” Wade called it when they first met- and every single time the claws would barely poke out- but it was more than that. For years after he’d exhausted the last of his furious energy, killed the last anti-mutant bastard in that horrible haze of his for whatever reason- could’ve been anything from destroying the X-Mansion to looking at him wrong, those claws had been firmly sheathed within him. Once he’d fucked up his own world, he had to keep any sign of his mutation firmly locked inside of him. They couldn’t kill him, but they’d sure as hell try if he ever attempted to be anything resembling who he was again. Better to keep his head down and live out the rest of his days as a social pariah.

So when Wade had taken him away from his universe, changed his life forever, he noticed just how much they’d started to hurt. It had always stung somewhat, even when he was using them regularly, but he’d always shrugged it off- it felt like nothing more than a pinprick back then. Since he’d gone so long without using them, though, it wasn’t uncommon for him to go days just dealing with their pointy adamantium tips constantly scraping against his knuckles, begging to be released in spite of how hard his mind berated him for even thinking of using them…

Logan’s most painful days always brought with them an incredibly loud mind. There was nothing to be ashamed of anymore- that’s what Wade had told him, now that he lived here- but the screams, the voices, the shouts of you killed them and why won’t you just die echoed through his head ceaselessly. Sliding onto the couch with a groaning sigh, he put his face in his hands, wishing anything could feel real right now besides the memories and the pain.

Dogpool trotted up and bumped into Logan’s leg, hopping up to try and get his attention. He didn’t even notice, as another image flashed through his mind of a pair of innocent, terrified eyes, silently begging the bloodied Wolverine to spare his life. He knew that moment like it was yesterday. He knew how it ended. How every single one of those memories always ended.

…He needed a drink. Now.

Abruptly standing up, he staggered over to the fridge, begging for there to be anything inside that would help the voices stop- only to be met with the sight of Wade sticking his head in the freezer. Logan thought the beeps he’d been hearing ever since he’d gotten home had been his imagination, but lo and behold, he heard them again. Much closer now, as the noise was coming from the freezer begging Wade to close the door already. He took a short look at him, immensely concerned by what he saw- dark bags under his eyes, skin way too red in some spots and ghostly pale in others, and a concerning amount of crusted bodily fluids surrounding his eyes, nostrils, and mouth. He was staring straight forward, not looking for anything, but definitely making no move to keep the contents inside from defrosting.

Well, this was just fantastic… Logan was having a shit day, and so was Wade. They were both in incredible amounts of pain thanks to their dumb mutant bodies… okay, Wade’s body was only dumb because it hurt him, but still- it looked like they both had shitty luck today. He tried to talk to Wade, but was interrupted by the freezer beeping again. 

“…Need some help, bub?” he asked, his voice strained since it even hurt to move his jaw at this point- god, fuck his metal bones. Wade instantly staggered back, the door closing on its own when he left it alone. Logan couldn’t help but notice his stench, which was way stronger than usual. It would've been repulsive, if it wasn’t coming from someone he loved dearly.

“Shit- you scared me, peanut!!” Wade chuckled, almost immediately devolving into coughs as his shaky legs collapsed underneath him. Logan immediately moved to try and help him up, but grunted loudly as his knees and hips screamed at him for even thinking about it, and-

Now they were both on the floor. Logan was gazing at Wade apologetically, noticing now that the “crust” around his eyes and nose was ice- how fucking long had Wade been in that freezer?? And why hadn’t he let him know how bad today had gotten for him? He would’ve come home immediately, done whatever he could- and now he couldn’t do anything.

“…Sorry if I’m not much for talk this evening. My body kinda feels like Satan’s asshole right now!” Wade croaked, and- yeah, Logan saw it, that was a concerning amount of sweat to be pouring down the face of someone who just got done living in the fucking freezer.

“You’re on death’s door, and you’re worried about not running your mouth as much as you usually do…” Logan wasn’t even a little surprised. He knew very well that Wade didn’t give a fuck about his body… He sure as shit didn’t like seeing it, but he knew.

“I’m the merc with a mouth, honey!! How can I…” Wade lapsed for a moment, clearly on the verge of passing out. “…I gotta do my job! I’m not a super-popular anti-hero because of how sick I am, I gotta get back to-“

“You aren’t doin’ shit, Wade.”

Wade’s eyes narrowed at Logan for a moment, looking quite disappointed. Maybe even annoyed? It didn’t matter. Logan wasn’t budging, and he was sure his boyfriend knew it. “…What’re you doing on the floor with me, peanut? How are you gonna stop me from getting up and killing someone right now, huh? Someone… someone drank a little too much b-bone hurting juice today-“

“Bub… Stop talking, holy fuck,” Logan groaned, trying to move his hand as close to Wade as he could manage. “I don’t need to stop you. If you’re having trouble yapping, you’re definitely not doing any of that-”

Wade was pointing at his clenched fist, snickering weakly. He swore, if it was because those god damn claws of his-

“Y’got boner claws, Logi-bear,” he teased, giving him half a mind to force them out all the way and shove them into his torso.

Despite the deep frown on his face- which only made Wade chuckle a bit more, resulting in another harrowingly loud coughing fit- the other half of Logan’s mind knew he’d feel really bad if he made him hurt any more than he already did. What kind of boyfriend stabbed their partner- when they were sick, no less?? It reminded him way too much of how he used to be in his world, a habit he was trying desperately to break, and he couldn’t stand-

“Actually… while I’m thinking about it, could you just stab me in the stomach with those real quick? I promise I’m onto something here!!”

The world was playing a cruel, awful joke on Logan right now, wasn’t it.

“…The fuck?? No!” Logan grunted, bringing his fist back to his body with a wince, forcing the tips of his claws back in- as painful as it was. It was almost like his body was too exhausted to keep them retracted, like it wanted to fight back against the nonexistent enemy causing him this much pain. But there wasn’t any way on this goddamn earth he’d stab someone over it, let alone Wade. It didn’t matter if he wanted to… he loved him more than he’d ever loved anybody. Why would he do that?

Unfortunately, Wade had come armed with reasons. “Babe, hear me out!! I’ve eyed the pistol I keep on my nightstand, like, five times today-“

“What the fuck, Wade??”

“-and it’s because if part of my body gets severely injured, my healing factor has something else to focus on besides killing all my cells for no reason!! Well- there is a reason, they’re all cancer- but the only reason I didn’t was because I didn’t want you to come home and find me dead! It’s… I promise it’ll work.” As he explained himself, Wade was writhing painfully on the floor, gripping different parts of his torso like they just exploded or something-

Logan had always been frustrated whenever Wade got like this. Not at Wade- never at Wade- but at the fact that there was nothing he could do besides watch him suffer. His own pain wasn’t helping Logan think rationally about this- he needed Wade to stop hurting before he could focus on himself, and if he honestly wasn’t fucking with him- but he was… so tired of hurting people. He didn’t know if he could handle it.

Wade took his clenched fist, and to Logan’s absolute horror, moved it right to his chest, where every single one of his vital organs were. Without realizing it, he whined desperately, trying to look away- every ache in his body made those claws of his want to spring out even more, and…

“Please, Wolvie. I’d rather it be you inside me than a bullet, anyways! I know you gotta use your claws right now anyways-“ of course he did, of fucking course he did- “so… please?”

Immediately, Wade was impaled. Logan’s eyes screwed shut, tears filling them as he tried to ignore the scream that ripped through his throat, even with all the joking and profanity that followed- all he could focus on was how much blood he would see if his eyes dared to open. There was no way he could bring himself to look right now… not with his mind screaming KILLER, MURDERER, LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE-

“… Mggh - gah! Fucking… there we go. Just enough bloodshed for me to…” Wade had pulled himself off his claws carefully, waiting for the wounds to close before standing up. Logan didn’t notice, too busy trapped in the memories that wouldn’t leave, hearing screams of long-dead people, begging for Wade’s voice not to join them.

His exposed arm, with his claws still unsheathed, was grabbed, and Wade pulled hard, dragging him across the floor. Logan could still smell blood, it wasn’t safe to open his eyes yet, and he didn’t care about anything Wade was doing to him right now- he had every right to fling him over the roof, in his book.

But of course Wade didn’t do that. Because, for some god-forsaken reason, he loved him. Loved him enough to fling his entire body onto the couch, as much as the panting he heard had him entirely concerned for his well-being. The freezer opened again, and Logan would’ve told him not to start living in it again if his mind was a little quieter.

Thankfully, Wade came back after a reasonable amount of time, and Logan finally opened his eyes as he felt cold packs being draped over almost every single one of his joints. Soon after, Wade’s eyes met his, shimmering with concern, love, and… illness, obviously, and they came even closer when he unceremoniously fell on top of Logan, making him yelp in surprise.

“Wade, you…” Logan sighed, wishing he could move his hands somehow without hurting Logan. “…Don’t do that. Don’t hurt yourself- not for my sake, please-“

“Sweetie pumpkin. That helped me… and it helped you! You just helped both of us, alright? Pinky promise,” Wade whispered roughly, wrapping his pinky around Logan’s without a single fuck given about the claws that were within inches of it. And… he was getting comfortable here. No way Logan could get him off without putting up a fight…

Good thing he really didn’t want to. Not with how warm he felt, how the comfort settled into his bones and convinced a tiny part of his brain that maybe, tomorrow morning, everything would be okay.

“Love ya, peanut,” Wade sighed, his voice almost imperceptible with how muffled it was by Logan’s chest.

“…I love you too, Wade. I love you so much…”

Logan wanted to retract his claws, hold Wade as close as possible- but they felt better out right now, and it’d probably be like that until they woke up. His eyes were drooping- and Wade was way ahead of him, having already completely passed out on top of him- and he willed himself not to give in to the urge to stay awake, protect Wade at all costs because there would always be something in the shadows waiting to steal the ones he loved from under his nose-

But the only blood he smelled in this house was Wade’s. And none of it was being spilled right now…

He was here. He was alive. He was breathing- snoring- on top of him, and however badly he felt right now, he would recover.

They both would.

[sodacowboy]

getting nauseous when I eat too much is probably definitely something my gi doc should know

[kwangyanese]

seeing a lot of koreans hating on/complaining about the sm game caterers #twinning

[agueforts]

me vs eternal grudges abt d20 captions

[thebigqueer]

however setpmeber has felt too slow to me why isnt it october yet.

[angeltism]

I think I should log off for the night . uhm . but I probably won't . so . bweh .

[mariocki]

Susannah: Yes. Yes, he did risk himself. We all did. A lot of it... OK, a bit half-assed but at least... some of it will stick! You have to try. It's not going to work any more, running for the same old burrows... we're rafting off into space - God! Frank sees it. He said to me one day, 'Suse... you know what's going to do for us all? Not the failure of intellect, moral, muscle - but the failure of imagination! They're all too busy with their snouts in the trough to smell the fire.'

Crystal: Yeah, he says some really daft things.

-

Pam Gems, Loving Women (1984)

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.

[sttoru]

‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’

☀︎｜tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!

satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.

ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.

though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.

“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”

you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.

“mama, go! mama go papa.”

satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.

your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.

you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.

however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.

“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”

even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.

“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.

satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.

“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”

your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.

you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.

it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.

your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.

“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.

“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”

you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.

“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.

your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.

he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.

“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”

the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.

“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”

you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.

it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.