#just don’t really feel like I have anywhere to say it

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi there! Many apologies if I put my foot in my mouth here.

Do you have any rules for when to use BIPOC vs POC? I personally don’t like the term BIPOC for a number of reasons, most of which match the Newsweek article I link at the end, but since I’m nothing close to an expert, I wanted to check if you had an answer for what to do on that front. Possibly separately or possibly as part of the same question, do you have a preference as to which is used in your inbox? Happy to do either, even if the surge towards only ever using BIPOC makes me a little squeamish since I really struggle to find anyone championing it who doesn’t eventually turn out to be white when I look them up.

PS - I feel like I see both PoC and POC, but never BIPoC. Is there a reason for that, or are people just making inconsistent guesses at capitalization?

Newsweek article in question: https://www.newsweek.com/bipoc-isnt-doing-what-you-think-its-doing-opinion-1582494

I think it's really just a personal choice, fr. I have never cared for it, really 😅 I have better battles to fight (the proper use of 'NOUN of color'), and I get what they were trying to do, but... I tried and I just... I don't care for it.

It feels self serving to me. It's redundant and yet it sort of lumps Black and Indigenous folks together in a way that... It doesn't address that while we do have similarities and overlaps, we're not the same and shouldn't be dismissed so easily.

And also, "indigenous" doesn't necessarily mean 'Indigenous to the Americas', so without that added context to the conversation, you could be talking bout anywhere and those indigenous people could very well be white 😭 and if your point by then is "well I mean the ones of color" then by then you could have just said "people of color" already! 🤣 But that might be me overthinking it.

You could just refer to people by their names 😭 I'm not just an amorphous POC, I'm Black! So when you enter my inbox, say Black. No, don't refer to me as a POC/PoC or a BIPOC, you know what I am and what I've asked you to refer to me as. It's honestly incredibly insulting when I make posts specifically discussing Blackness and they get hit with the #poc #poc things. I do love my folk of color and will show solidarity ofc, but when I'm talking about Black people, I do mean Black people. And I'm pretty sure I can tell who's leaving those tags 😬

We're not all one lump solely defined by "not white"- when you know our identities, use them!

Sidebar, I also always misread it as "Bi and Indigenous people of color" 😭 Lmao you managed to accidentally hit on something I'm very passionate about but rarely speak on 😅

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"ONE STEP TWO STEP THREE STEP OW!"

Synopsis: Young weird Neglected black!reader can't waltz and Bruce won't dance with you but Mr. Oliver Queen can teach you a few moves

You love galas, like really, really love galas: the architecture of the buildings, which could look Roman or Victorian; the bright chandeliers that glimmer like little stars; the intricate details on every piece of furniture and wall-to-door; the gold accents and trim. It's all just perfect. It feels like you're a princess on a special stage, like you're in a musical and you're the lead star, ready to burst into song after only two lines and do a comedic dance number. The men and women dressed elegantly, with jewels and watches from their great-great-grandparents that they took for granted, replacing heirlooms like loose change. Speaking in posh accents over champagne, they talked about their trips around the world or petty politics, using big words they never used before. It just makes you giggle, but you loved nothing more than the band's music. You'd clap after every performance, and the composer would always take a bow for you. But the thing you loved most of all was the dancing—how the women's dresses would sway as they waltzed and how the men would spin the ladies around adoringly. It was like you were living in the movie Anastasia. And you wanted to dance, to move like them, but you never knew how. It's only been a couple of months since you were integrated into this aristocratic lifestyle, and yet you know every little. Alfred tried to teach you everything there was to being classy, but the old man was far too busy teaching the boys how to behave at galas, so you had to work it out on your own. Alfred taught you a few waltz steps, but not the whole thing, so when it came to dancing, you were hopeless, like a duckling with feet too big for its body. But when the announcer at the gala told the fathers to dance with their daughters, you thought this was your shot—your shot to dance with Bruce, for him to teach you the moves, for you two to bond like you were meant to. I mean, you are his little girl; he should be running to you right about now, ready to put your little feet on top of his as he guides you and teaches you how to waltz. But Bruce doesn't show up. You looked around to see that every little girl and older girl was holding her dad's hand, stepping on his toes, and twirling around like princesses, except you. Everyone had a partner except you. You pushed past the happy fathers and daughters to find him, only to see that he had picked someone else. He was doing the waltz with Cass; they were laughing as she struggled to grasp the steps. You couldn't hear what they were saying due to the chatter of the room, but you knew they were having the time of their lives. But that didn't bother you; you would just wait for your turn, like a kid on a swing set watching the other kids take their merry-old-time. You can just wait and wait and wait, staring at the two. They looked so happy and energetic. You wouldn't lie; you were a tad bit jealous. I mean, you were younger than Cass; you were his little girl; you should have had that dance, not her. But jealousy wouldn't take you anywhere; you just had to wait your turn. They almost looked related; maybe it was the dark black hair or the pale skin. You looked at yourself and began to feel like an outcast. You nervously fixed your dress, pulling at the purple frills. Almost everyone in the blow room was white. Maybe Bruce just didn't want to be seen with you; maybe he was embarrassed. You shook your head— that couldn’t be the reason. Don’t be stupid; just be patient. Yeah, that's right—patient. You can be patient. But as you watched Cass lean her head on his shoulder, it should be you. You saw Bruce place his chin on her hair, and if you weren't jealous before, you certainly were now. You waited long enough, so you walked up to them and tugged on Bruce's suit.

"Hey," you squeaked, your voice sounding like a mouse. You started to fiddle with your fingers.

"I was waiting a bit, and I wanted to know if I could dance with you," you mumbled gently. He looked down at you; blue eyes shining like bright diamonds.

"Not right now, [Name]." He dismissed you like a secretary at Wayne Enterprises.

"But it's a father-daughter dance, and I've been waiting for a while now." Your voice trembled, and you started to feel yourself get angry.

"[Name], you're starting to act childish," he whispered. When he whispered like that, he was trying to hide his anger.

"But I've been waiting for an hour; it's just not fair," You saw him glare at you and stopped talking. You felt yourself shrink, getting smaller and smaller, but you weren't shrinking; you were just getting scared.

You stormed off walking right out the gala you felt angry furious even then you felt a familiar clench in your throat it was strong so very strong it made you want to cough you knew thar feeling better then anyone else you were going to cry so sat you sat on the pearly white steps and let those baby tears flow then you felt a rough hand on your shoulder you yelped out in fear and you swiftly moved away looking up from the ground to see a tall blonde hair man with bright emerald green eyes

"Hey, I don't bite," he chuckled, standing tall in front of you. You still kept your distance and sat down on the steps.

"So why are you out here all alone while everyone's having fun?" he said with a soft smile. You wiped your face and puffed out your chest, trying to look tough, but you were just a girl, and plus, he was a stranger. You shouldn't talk to strangers, but you were lonely, and your "dad" would rather dance with Cass than you.

"I was supposed to have a daddy-daughter dance with my dad, but he's too busy dancing with my older sister," you sniffled, grumbling just a little.

"Oh, you want to dance? Don't you think it's a bit silly?" he asked, and it made you frown.

"It's not silly!" You raised your voice, then lowered it to a whisper.

"It's lovely—the music, the fancy steps. It's all just lovely, like being in a movie," you explained, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Tonight, he was going to teach me how to waltz," you huffed. You heard the blonde man chuckle. How dare he make fun of you! You were about to let out a mean quip when he spoke.

"You can't waltz?" he said, holding back a chuckle and covering his mouth with a hand that looked calloused and rough, as if he'd been hitting drywall.

"Don't laugh!" you whined, annoyed.

"I'm not; it's just super easy to do," the older man said with a smirk.

"Well, I wouldn't know; I've never done it before." You felt a pout coming, and you quickly tried to hide it.

"Wait, you've never waltzed before?" he said, looking at you confusedly. Someone of your status should at least know the basics.

"Never" you answered

"Never ever?"

"Never in history." You felt yourself wanting to cry. Then he smiled down at you and stood up.

"Come on, I'll teach you. There are no perks to being a wallflower." His hands reached out, and you saw the little scars on his hand. With nothing better to do, you took his, and he led you back into the gala. He held your hand and hip gently.

"All you have to do is step in the square," he intruded, and you followed his steps from down to side, to up, and side to down again. Then he twirled you around, making you giggle. You felt like a princess, finally, until you stepped on his foot. He winced, and it made you snort. He gave you a fake glare, the older man smirking.

"You never told me your name?"

"You never told me yours?" he said, and you glared at him.

"I'm [Name], [Name] Wayne," you answered confidently.

"A Wayne?" he said, shocked.

"What's wrong with being a Wayne?" You huffed.

"Nothing. I don't get along with Wayne very well; they tend to get on my nerves," he admitted with a sigh.

"Tell me about it," you agreed.

"Anyway, I'm Oliver Queen's friend. Call me Ollie, and your dad calls me a bastard," and you laughed.

"Nice to meet you, Ollie," you smiled up at him gently. You wondered if you should switch dads like playing cards. Little did you know, Bruce was in the corner seething at the sight of Ollie making you laugh and giggle and twirling you around. He almost broke his champagne glass. He didn't want to cause a scene, but he was close to crashing out and having it be posted on Twitter. He was searching for you, ready to apologize and give you your dance, but there you were, letting someone like Oliver have the dance. He'll make sure to deal with that blonde later.

[illubean]

Heyyy, so I’m like reaaaally tall and I wanted to ask if you’d be comfortable with writing headcanons about the Phantome troupe (or just feitan, uvogin and Hisoka) with a tall fem!s/o? Like 6’2 or 6’3 , cuz I really like your other headcanons and I can’t find any of those ANYWHERE… :,)

Phantom Troupe w/ a Tall!Fem!Reader

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor, Uvogin Type: Headcanons, Fem!Reader

Haven’t written hxh for a hot minute… replaced Hisoka w/ Chrollo cus I don’t write for him! also reader is intended to be in the 6’0+ range

Warnings: a tad suggestive?

Chrollo Lucilfer

I personally think Chrollo is a certified tall girl lover

never be afraid to wear heels/platforms around him because he’s literally obsessed with you

his favorite thing ever is when you wear shorts/skirts/anything that shows off your legs

if anyone tried giving him shit for having a gf who’s taller than him he doesn’t care because thats little dick energy and Chrollo is NOT part of that club

tall or not he likes having you in his lap, his palms resting on the outside of your thighs or around your waist

who cares if it looks silly to other people? he adores you

he insists on helping you put on/take off your shoes every time, often pressing a kiss to your ankle and telling you how pretty you are GAHHH

touchy touchy man in private, always laying on your lap, caressing your thighs or offering you specifically leg massages

he may or may not be a teeny bit of a perv

he just can’t help it :(( he wants to spoil his tall baby

we already touched on the shorts and skirts thing but this guy goes NUTS if you wear stockings/fishnets/thigh highs etc. like YESSS THANK THE LAWD

he is not above getting on his knees and quite literally worshipping you, kissing up the length of your leg

ok let me stop before i get freaky

Feitan Portor

oh boy

Feitan is already used to being relatively shorter than people, it wasn’t new to him

but he didn’t expect to get with someone DAMN NEAR A WHOLE FOOT TALLER

you guys are like the big and friendly x small and scary ship dynamic except reversed gender role i guess

as previously mentioned in another headcanon post i did similar to this, Feitan likes being shorter than you for 2 main reasons

1. so he can sneak up on you easier and 2. because he’s practically eye level with your chest..

he likes it when you hug him so he can just faceplant into your rack then blame it on the height difference

he likes to sneak up on you and watch you nearly jump out of your skin because you literally didn’t see him coming

he’s not at all insecure about your height difference but he does get annoyed if you or anyone else teases him

if you tried leaning an arm atop his head or something he would dodge you with a scowl and give you the silent treatment for the next 10 minutes because how dare you!?

he is small but mighty, so if you ever try to pick him up or something he WILL fight back

9 times out of 10 you end up splayed out on the floor while he stomps away, a little salty

but he doesn’t mind so much in private

he actually DEMANDS to be the little spoon

he likes the feeling of having your larger form wrapped around him :3

Uvogin

yeah so no matter how tall you are you’re probably never ever going to be taller than this guy soz

he’s like over 8 feet tall

so needless to say your height doesn’t matter much to him..

but I think he probably has a preference for taller women because it just makes things easier for him

also wtf would it look like if this guy was dating someone under 5’4…it would look suspicious even if they’re an adult……..

so yeah he like’s that you’re tall even though you’re still pretty short compared to him

he likes that he has easier access to kiss you instead of having to lean down ridiculously far (even though around 2 feet is still kind of ridiculous…)

another one who likes it when you show your legs off

to be fair, he likes it when you show skin in general but yeah

cannot keep his hands off you ever

he always has an arm slung over your shoulders or if you’re sitting his insanely large hand is resting on your thigh

he doesn’t shy away from pda ever and it kind of annoys some of the other troupe members..

but yeah you guys are giants in love <3

[redrose10]

I wasn’t 100% sure on which prompts to use, but I really hope you like it! @maryhopemei

(Underrated outfit choice)

<The Boy Next Door>

Yoongi X Female Reader. Arranged Marriage AU.

Warnings: Lots of angst but Yoongi is fluffy and tries to make it better, mentions of abuse of different kinds, insecurities, feeling like having to pay for things with sex, drinking, bullying, hints of being forced to do things

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

You were five years old. Your dad had come home on a rampage, he was upset about something that had happened at work which he then tried to drink away with liquor, but the only thing that did was make his mood worse. It wasn’t the first time he had come home like that. Screaming, cursing, throwing things around the apartment. He went after your mother first. He went after your older sister. He then set his sights on your brother. Before he could find you though you slipped out into the hallway. You stood there crying unsure of where to go or how to even get anywhere. Then you heard something.

“Pssst.”

You looked around unable to find the source of the sound.

“Over here.”, they said.

A few doors down you saw someone peaking out into the hall. You took a hesitant step towards them when they opened the door a little more and stepped out. A boy about your age, the same height, with chubby cheeks, a button nose, and cat like eyes.

“Shhh, come here.”, he motioned for you to come inside with him. You were unsure because your mom had made sure you were well aware of stranger danger, but when you heard another glass shatter inside your apartment you decided you would rather take your chances with the boy next door.

He took you inside and gave you a glass of milk and a few of his cookies he had secretly saved from dinner to have as a late night snack. He didn’t say much. Just sat there with you as you tried to calm down. He gave you a blanket and grabbed a pillow off of his own bed and then walked you over to the couch. He gave you a warm, comfy, safe space for the night until his mom took you back home the next morning. Your parents moved away shortly after that. But that night was the first of many encounters you had with Min Yoongi.

The next happened just a few years later. You were in the fourth grade. It was one of the first warm days of spring so you were sitting on a bench enjoying the sunshine and just minding your own business while reading a book during recess when Jun Park walked up to you with two of his friends following close behind.

“Whatcha reading nerd?”, Jun laughed.

You pretended to ignore him hoping he would just loose interest and go away, unfortunately you were not that lucky.

“Maybe if you had friends you wouldn’t be such a loser.”, he added, but when he still didn’t get a reaction like he wanted he grabbed your book throwing it into the mud next to you.

“I’m talking to you.”, he spat going to grab your hand, but someone else was faster, “Don’t touch her or I swear I’ll take every single one of your Pokémon cards and light them on fire while you helplessly watch.”

Jun and his friends backed away with their hands up, “S-Sorry Yoo-Yoongi.” They turned and ran back over to the playground far away. Yoongi bent down and grabbed your book out of the mud. He used the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe away the dirt before handing it back to you. Silently he walked away and rejoined his friends who were waiting for him by the basketball court. You watched him play finding yourself smiling a little every time he scored a basket.

In high school Yoongi had been a little more prominent in your life although not by his own doing. He was the captain of the basketball team, leader of the student council, one year he was even class president. Everywhere you looked his face was plastered or he was giving a speech. He had a gaggle of girls that followed him around constantly trying to get his attention. In the years prior his dad had started a tech company that quickly soared to the top of the ranks making the Mins one of the wealthiest families in the country so their only son was quite the hot commodity.

In the twelfth grade a boy, Ha-Joon, started showing interest in you. He would flirt in between classes and buy you lunch. To your surprise one day he asked you out on a date. Hesitantly you accepted and as the day got closer you even started feeling a little excited. The day of your date the bell rang and you happily ran to the door and swung it open, but you were shocked to see someone else other than Ha-Joon.

Instead, Yoongi greeted you, “Ha-Joon only asked you out as a joke. I heard him talking about it in the locker room last night. His plan was to never show up at the restaurant while his friends took pictures of you sitting there alone to post online and make fun on you.”

You nodded feeling your throat close up and tears begin to form. “Thank you.”, you whispered trying to close the door, but Yoongi’s boot blocked the way. “Y/N, I’ll uh I’ll take you to dinner instead…if you’d like.”, he offered, but you politely declined not feeling much in the mood after that and not wanting to burden him. You were thankful he saved you from being even more embarrassed than you already were.

Then on your Twenty-fifth birthday your parents dropped a bomb on you. Your father’s company was failing. Your father was stubborn and refused to give up his place so he chose to give you up instead. You were to marry the son of a competitor so that the two of you could pretend to be a loving couple for good publicity and in return his parents would invest in your fathers company. You hadn’t ever planned to get married. You had very little trust in men after what you had endured growing up so it wasn’t part of the plan for you. Yet they still introduced you to your soon to be husband, Min Yoongi.

After the wedding he showed you around your new penthouse. The kitchen had breathtaking views of the city. The living room was large and well furnished. He showed you his office. The gym area. He gave you a quick tour of the bedroom and then he walked you down to the end of the hall encouraging you to close your eyes. Gently he guided you into the room before prompting you to open them.

“I hope it’s okay.”, he said nervously scratching his arm, “I went to the library and asked for recommendations based off of the books you already had.”

You spun around looking in awe at the shelves and shelves of books. A big comfy couch adorned with pillows and fluffy blankets sat next to the window. The corner of the room even had a little coffee station and a small cooler for bottles of water and there was a bin for snacks. He thought of everything.

You had never had anything so wonderful done for you before. But then a realization hit you. Most men, at least in your experience, never did anything nice like this without expecting something in return. And you were his new bride after all so of course he was expecting a thank you that went beyond words.

You started getting a little dizzy at the thought. You knew that day would come. You weren’t quite ready for it yet, but you wanted to try and make him happy.

“Umm sh-should we go to the b-bedroom now?”, you questioned not looking up from the floor.

“Well I mean it’s only like 4pm, but if you’re tired you can certainly take a nap. I know it’s been a long couple weeks.”, he chuckled looking at his watch.

“Oh so um how do you want to do this then?”

“Do what?”, he asked.

“Sex. I…You built this whole library for me. Don’t you want a thank you?”

“What?!”, he choked on air, “No no no Y/N. I just wanted to do something nice, make you a comfy safe space to go to. I…You don’t have to thank me, especially like that, especially if you’re not ready.”

By that point both of your cheeks were bright red and there was an even bigger awkwardness in the room.

“I uh I have to go take a quick business call.”, he said standing up, “Feel free to stay here or go take a nap or whatever you want. I’ll let you know when dinners ready.”, he nodded and left the room swiftly.

The next few weeks with Yoongi were practically perfect. You just couldn’t stop the fear that one day he would change and become just like every other man had been in your life.

Every Friday he came home with a bouquet of flowers for you to brighten up your library, but you assumed it was because he had done something wrong and needed your forgiveness. You’d seen your father do it a million times before, except Yoongi never did anything other than throw away the old wilting ones and replace them with the new lively bunch.

A few months later on your birthday he surprised you with a cat he adopted from the shelter. She had soft white fur and beautiful blue eyes. She looked just like the kitten you had as a child. You named her Petunia. Even though it seemed like Yoongi never came home without a new toy or treat for her (he claimed they were on sale or just somehow magically ended up in his bag) you still feared the day you would do something to upset him and he would re-home your precious cat just like your father had done after you failed an important math test.

And then one day you opened up one of the cabinets in the kitchen and three of his whiskey glasses fell and onto the counter and shattered. They were one of a kind and handmaid in some country you’d never even heard of. They were extremely expensive and he was very proud of them. Quickly you cleaned up the glass and threw it in the trash before returning to your room. When Yoongi got home a few hours later excited because the bakery finally had your favorite blueberry muffin in stock, he found all of the broken glass in the trash after going to throw away the bag. He went looking for you to make sure you hadn’t got hurt, but what he found hurt him more than any shard of glass could.

You were curled up in the corner of the library tightly clinging to Petunia sobbing and begging him not to take her. If he hadn’t known about your past he probably would’ve laughed thinking you were joking somehow, but he knew something must’ve happened back then to lead you to this state. He remembered seeing you with the little kitten around the apartment until one day he didn’t. So he sat down next to you gently scratching at Petunia’s chin and letting you know that the whiskey glasses could be replaced and that neither you nor the cat were going anywhere.

When your sniffles finally settled down he turned to look at you gently whispering your name, “Can I hug you?”, he asked. For a second you froze but ultimately agreed by releasing the cat and turning to let his arms embrace you. That was the first bit of physical affection the two of you shared and the first big chip he made at the wall you built.

Tonight Yoongi wanted to take you out to dinner. You sat across from him taking in the scenery. It was one of the nicest restaurants in the city and because they knew who he was, the wait staff put in extra effort to make the experience special.

Yoongi was really attentive. He asked about the books you’ve read, even writing down a list of your absolute favorites so he could read them himself. He asked about the places you wanted to travel to and any dreams or goals you had. It was a nice evening and for the first time in your relationship you really started to relax a little thinking that maybe he really wasn’t like the others.

But then those feelings returned all too quickly. Yoongi was talking about wanting to plan a trip to the Maldives, but he was worried about who would watch Petunia because he didn’t trust anyone enough when you saw it. A beautiful woman walked by in a tight mini dress that she was filling out perfectly. Yoongi looked in her direction as she walked by. It was slight and if you blinked you would’ve missed it, but you saw it and you felt your entire mood deflate. It all made sense now. Why he wanted you guys to get dressed up. Why he took you to this fancy dinner on a random Wednesday night. Why he was being really sweet this whole time trying to make you feel comfortable. The two of you had been married for almost eight months and had yet to be intimate together and you knew it was probably killing him if he hadn’t been getting it elsewhere.

But then it hit you again. What if he was seeing someone else? He has needs and they were needs you had refused to provide for. Why wouldn’t he find that release in another woman? He was handsome, wealthy, successful, charismatic so he probably had women lined up. If you denied him tonight he was going to be angry. He’s probably fed up and at his wits end with you. He’ll kick you out. Leave you on the streets with nothing. The last boyfriend you had kicked you out of his car in the middle of the highway because you refused to sleep with him after a dinner similar to this. And Yoongi will do the same. You’ll be homeless. He’ll keep Petunia. Oh my god Petunia! Your eyes started to tear up before hearing your name.

“Y/N how does coffee after dinner sound?”, he was asking with his head cocked to the side noticing you hadn’t heard him the first time, “There’s a really nice cat cafe a few blocks from here. I think they do adoptions too. Maybe we can find Petunia a sister. She’s been really clingy lately and this cat psychology book I read said that it could mean she’s lonely and needs a friend, but like a cat friend not one of us. Which is dumb because I thought I was her best friend, but I guess I could see why she’d want another cat running around. I mean if I was a cat I’d want another cat around to talk about cat things with.”

Normally you would find his little tangent somewhat endearing, but at the moment you were coming to terms with the fact that your marriage was over and the only decent person you’ve ever had in your life was going to be gone for good.

It all became too much and you didn’t even bother to answer him before running out of the restaurant letting the cold rain drench you outside. You felt like you were sprinting down the street, but it didn’t take long for Yoongi to catch up to you anyways.

When he did he quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, “Y/N what is wrong? I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you. If you’re not ready for a second cat you just say so.”

“It’s not about the cat.”, you cried into the air.

“Then tell me Y/N, tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it?”

You shook your head, “I saw you looking at that woman. I know what you want tonight. I’m just I’m not ready and you’re going to be angry and finally get rid of me.”

“What woman?”, he questioned genuinely unsure of who you were talking about, “Y/N I’m sorry if I did something to upset you, but I wasn’t looking at anyone. You are the only woman I’ve noticed this entire evening. You’re the only woman I ever notice. I didn’t bring you here in an attempt to get you to do anything. I’m really sorry if I made it seem that way.”, he sighed, “I just wanted to take you out to a nice dinner and get coffee. Kind of like a date. We’ve never really done that before.”

You continued to stand and cry out in the rain not realizing how badly you were shivering. Yoongi noticed though. Slowly and gently he reached for your hand keeping his eyes on you to see if you would have a negative reaction to his touch and when you didn’t his grip tightened a little and he pulled you back to the parking lot. Once in the car he cranked the heat and made sure your seat warmers were on. When your shivering finally stopped and your sniffles had almost subsided he pulled out of the parking spot and headed home.

The drive was silent for a while until he stopped at a red light. “You make me the happiest person alive, you know?”, he said confidently reaching for your hand again, but keeping his eyes on the road not wanting to completely overwhelm you, “And I never expect anything from you especially things you aren’t ready for. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I just…I just want to make you feel loved and safe and happy and comfort. You deserve it. I hope that one day you’ll learn to accept that.” The light turned green so he shifted into drive and you began crying again, but this time for a whole different reason.

“Babe, are you home?”, you heard Yoongi shouting from the hallway. The last couple of months had seen big improvements in your relationship. While you were still a little unsure at times you stopped comparing him to the prior men in your life and started accepting him for the kind, loving, faithful, patient man that he was. You were definitely more open to hugs and hand holding. Cuddling on the couch was a new normal and even in bed you tended to fall asleep tightly wrapped in his arms, but there was still one step you had not taken yet.

Tonight you were finally ready.

You were sat on the edge of the bed in the white silk nightie you recently purchased as an impulse buy. Your heart race increased a little more with each of his footsteps that brought him closer to the bedroom. All of the practice you did trying to pose seductively went out the window thanks to your shaking knees.

“Hey babe let me take a quick shower and then we can figure out dinnerrrr oh my god I am so sorry!.”, Yoongi squealed before quickly covering his eyes with his hands, “I didn’t see anything I swear!.” He tried backing out of the room, but ended up backing straight into the wall instead hitting it with a big oompf sound.

“It’s okay. I…I planned it so that you would find me like this.”, you said getting off of the bed to go to him. Softly you pulled his hands down so he could look at you. His cheeks were bright red as he fought for his life trying not to look below your face. “Y/N.”, he breathed out deeply, “You don’t…we don’t have to do this.”

You smiled and took his belongs from his hands setting them down on the desk in the corner.

“I know, but I’m ready. I want to…with you Yoongi.”

It took a little more reassurance on your part, but eventually you ended up on the bed lying underneath him as he rested on his forearms above you, his head hanging low to kiss you softly.

“Are…Are you sure?”, he asked for a final time feeling it getting harder and harder to hold back. “Yes Yoongi. I’m ready. I trust you. You make me a better person love, and I hope you know most of this character development is because of you. Thank you for being patient with me. I love you Yoongi.”, you said rubbing your hands up and down his arms soothingly.

He smiled, “I love you too Y/N. More than I can ever tell you.”

That night was one filled with gentle kisses and soft touches and sounds and movements and praises and mostly just love. A love you didn’t know existed. A love you didn’t think was possible. A love that started by that boy next door who saved that scared, hurt, broken little five year old girl all those years ago and a love that continued to work day after day to make sure she never had to feel that way ever again.

[distracted-milkshake]

Like ‘Em Weird - Steven Grant x reader

Warnings: bri’ish reader, non explicit sex, snogging tf out of Steven, general embarrassment, slight jerk Marc

Words: 4k

Rating: M

Summary: A fast moving relationship halts abruptly when the cute guy you met at a cafe wakes up a completely different person.

or

How you helped Steven figure out his body has multiple tenets, and that he doesn’t mind sharing it it’s you

I haven’t actually finished Moon Knight, so any inconsistencies or straight up false stuff is on me. Other guy isn’t here because I haven’t met him yet

Whipping up 1-5k oneshots while I can't get even ten in on my wip is such a me thing it's not even laughable anymore

Also! I have read a lot about DID and talked with friends who have it, and the portrayal of the reader does not represent kind or correct treatment of people with such issues at all, just wanted to be clear that I as the author know that and this isn’t any sort of handbook

AO3 link

“You gonna talk to me or just keep staring?” 

Steven blinks, immediately feeling his hands and cheeks go hot. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was staring–!” He quiets as you stand and drag your metal chair the few feet across the cafe patio to his table, plopping into it. 

“Hi.” He murmurs, eyes dropping to his lap as he wrings his hands. 

”Hey,” You reach your hand over the table, flashing a smile, introducing yourself. 

“Steven Grant.” He shakes it, adjusting in his seat.

“No worries, by the way. I never know how to start a conversation either.” 

“I am so sorry, really, I hadn’t noticed. I uh, I don’t do that, I swear, I was just sort of spaced out.” He sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly, running a hand through his hair to get it off his face. “I don’t usually see a lot of pretty girls around, not ones that I find pretty– well, I mean there’re plenty of pretty girls, just not as– you just…” he swallows, wishing he could sink far enough into his chair to disappear from the face of the Earth. 

“God I wish I could start over.” He says. 

“This conversation, or since you started staring?” 

“My life at this point.”

“Take as long as you need.” You grin. 

“My name’s Steven, I work in a gift shop.” 

“At the museum?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, sitting up straighter. 

“I knew it, I’ve seen you before! I love that place.” 

“Ah! Me too! It’s ahm, probably about my favorite place in the world.” 

He goes off about something having to do with history, half of which you don’t quite follow, but you listen anyway. 

He tells you about several different exhibits from the museum he works at, stuff that isn’t on the little plaques, going on tangents here and there about the origins of popular misconceptions. 

“…and that’s just off the top of my head; numerous examples of it.” He takes a sip of his coffee, suddenly seeming to realize something. 

“Shit. Im sorry, I’ve been talking entirely too much. You want to tell me about you?” 

“No, it’s cool, I get it.” You laugh. “You read a lot.” 

“Oh loads, anything that interests me, I love books.” 

“Music's my thing.” You say. 

“Oh, do you play?” 

“Nah, I collect. CDs mostly, vinyl sometimes.” You finish your drink, setting your cup aside. 

“I’d love to get into it, but I should be going. Do you wanna get dinner sometime?” You ask. 

“Yeah,” he nods and you pull out your phone, handing it to him to put his number in.

“I’m vegan, but anywhere you like is fine though. Saturday work?” He says. 

“Saturday’s brilliant.” You click your phone closed when he turns it back to you, tucking it back in your pocket. 

“Brilliant.” 

“I’ll call you with the place. See ya then.” 

“See ya.” 

Saturday rolls around, and you get off the bus to a lovely little Indian place with a bounce in your step. 

You had double checked thy had plenty of vegan options, spending the last few days trying and failing not to text Steven every half hour. 

“Sorry! I got put on inventory again.” Steven huff as he bounds up to you, making you feel a little silly as he’s all dressed up. 

“You’re right on time actually. I just came early.” 

“Oh, thank goodness.” He says, exhaling heavily and straightening his back. 

He holds up a “Um, these are for you.” 

“Oh my God.” You smile, taking them from him and turning them over. 

“I hate flowers, but that has got to be about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” 

“Sorry, I’ll uh, I’ll remember that.” 

“Nothing to be sorry about, I appreciate it. Shall we?” You gesture to the restaurant door. 

“Oh– Of course,” Steven sidesteps to hold open the door for you, and you both head in. 

Seated with your food on the way, you look your date up and down expectantly, to which he sets his drink down and explains. 

“I am keeping my mouth sealed unless spoken to. Even if it means I’m staring.” He jokes at the end with a smirk. 

“Sure you’re going to be able to stick to that?” You tease, taking a long sip from your mango lassi. 

“Sure am. Talk to me.” 

So you do. 

You tell him all about where your from, your favorite band, the kinds of movies and shows you like, and he chimes in with his own, careful not to dominate the conversation with his preferred topics, which as much as you love the sound of his voice, you’re grateful for. 

“You know there’s something special about you maybe.” He says when you’re about finished with your meal. “I feel like I just click with you. Is that weird?” 

“No, it’s not weird.” You shake your head, meeting his eyes. “That’s not weird at all.” 

You walk with him down the street, hands in your pockets from the slight chill, but keeping close enough your arms are almost touching. 

It’s quiet, and it’s a comfortable quiet, but you can’t help but feel nagged at by a lack of something. 

You come to an intersection, and Steven turns to you. 

“Well, thank you, for going out with me.” You take him in, framed in the streetlight, messy hair and nice clothes, pretty eyes catching the light. 

“I hope you have a great rest of your night–” 

You push him against the brick wall of the building closest and catch his lips in a kiss, startling him as his hands hover over your shoulders, then your arms, before finding your back and waist, pulling you close. 

He kisses back confidently at first, then out of sync, then trying to pull away, saying something muffled. 

“Good?” You break the kiss to ask, wetting your lips. 

“Yeah. S’prised me’s all.” He says, breathing heavy. “I just wanted to say I think you’re gorgeous.” 

You pull him back into it with almost feverish urgency, pushing your tongue past his lips and to the roof of his mouth where you find his and press and move against it roughly, hand finding the back of his head to tilt just enough to have the perfect angle to explore. 

You recede to let him breathe and Steven catches a dribble of spit with the back of his hand, looking mortified as he having no where else wipes in on his coat. 

You bite your tongue to keep from laughing, wiping his bottom lip with your thumb. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Sorry that’s gross, I dunno if I’ve ever been kissed like that, I’ve no idea how,” he wipes his lips again. 

“It’s not like movies. Very, very wet.” 

“You talk a lot for someone who stares.” 

“In the restaurant. Out here I’ve dropped it now. You know I don’t know if I want to be remembered as that guy in your head.” 

“Something else, then?” 

“I’m cool with gift shop guy.” He says as you give him lighter pecks on the mouth. 

“Much better than spaced out Steven.” You giggle, tracing his cheekbone around back to his ear and down his beck, letting your thumb slip under his collar as you press your forehead against his. 

“Yeah well, I find it hard to get a good night’s sleep.” 

“I’d like to get a good one with you.” 

“Hmnn?” His eyes flit to your lips and then back up to yours, bewildered. 

“Oh, oh you mean!” He pulls back and gives an enthusiastic nod, a wide smile on his face.

“Hells yeah.” 

“I like your apartment,” Steven says under his breath between dizzying kisses in your entryway, watching you alternate between his throat and kissing him with utter fascination, unsure how to keep up or what to do with just how expertly you’re making him fall apart. 

“You haven’t seen it yet.” 

You pull him by the wrist through your living space, past the couch to your bedroom, where you shut the door and shuck off his jacket. 

“Do you have a condom?” He asked before you can devour any attempts he has at talking again with your mouth. 

“Yeah, one sec.” You dig around in your nightstand drawer, pulling one out and turning back to give Steven a gentle shove onto the bed, climbing atop him and undoing his buttons with your free hand. 

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Steven says when you finish with his top and strip off your own, tearing the condom open and sitting back on your haunches. “This is unbelievable.” 

You grab him by the chin, making his heart skip a beat. “Let’s aim for unforgettable.” You say. 

Steven lays on his back, hands on his chest, having finally caught his breath. 

“That was lovely.” He says. 

“Lovely?” You repeat, stretching your spine, side eying him. 

He turns on his elbow you look at you. “Lovely. Amazing. Mind blowing. All of the above.” 

“Been awhile?” You chuckle, tracing his collarbone to his shoulder before hooking your arm over it. 

“You have no idea.” As lost in your eyes he is, he pulls away to check the time, sitting up. 

“I um, I should get back to my apartment,” he moves to get off the bed, and you sit up after him, catching his wrist. “Hey wait. Don’t be ridiculous, stay.”

“No, I uh…” Steven stops himself, not wanting to mess this up. If he told you he had some weird sleep condition, that he literally bolted himself to his bed to sleep every night for fear of missing hours or waking up places he didn’t recognize, he was certain that was the kind of thing that would scare you off. 

That look you're giving him, that half lidded, cocksure smile, still topless and not even trying to cover it, it’s convincing enough on its own. 

“That’d be just fine. Yeah. Yeah okay.” He relaxes back into the bed and you lean up and kiss him. 

“Great.” You murmur, pulling him in and tugging the covers back over you. 

Maybe just one night would be fine. 

Marc wakes up in an unfamiliar room, with an unfamiliar woman in bed next to him.

You stir, burrowing your face into the pillows before you feel the bed spring back, blinking your eyes open and pulling yourself up just enough to see him retrieving his clothes from the floor. 

“Hey, no rush, it’s Sunday, come ‘ere.” 

“I’m sorry, you seem nice and all, but I was not supposed to wake up here.” 

“What happened to your accent?” You laugh humorlessly, brow knitting. 

“Accent? Jesus, I don’t have time for this, I’ve got to be in Madripoor in like two hours, that idiot was supposed to be back at his apartment.” 

He gathers up the rest his things as he mutters to himself. “Yeah yeah I know, I can get to the justice after I get back to his apartment and sort things out there. I swear if this is what gets him… yes. Of course I’m grateful. I will handle it.” 

“Hey, wait!” You pull a t-shirt and pajama pants on, following him into your living room, but by then he’s already got his shoes on. 

He opens and struts right out your front door without another word, slamming it behind him. 

Monday afternoon you take your lunch break to head down to he museum, stomping right up and into the corner gift shop, where sure enough, Steven sits twiddling a pen while he reads. 

He sets aside both when he sees you, smile falling when he sees your face. 

You plant your palms and lean directly over the counter, huffing. 

“Hey, you know I really can’t believe I fell for your shy soft boy act, you pull that on everyone? Or was I just ‘special’ enough to catch your attention?” 

“What? I– what are you talking about– hey!” He jumps up from his seat as you push back from the counter, folding your arms. 

“I mean what on Earth is wrong with you!” You stare him down as he rounds his station to speak with you. 

“Hey, whatever I said, I’m sorry? I don’t– I didn’t mean it– will you please tell me what you are talking about?” 

“You jerk. Can you go one minute without lying? Rhetorical, because you obviously can, if it’s convenient to getting in my pants. God! I can’t believe I slept with you.” 

“You slept with me?!” He exclaims, hunching over as a couple passerbys give him looks, making you roll your eyes. “Holy shit, I thought I dreamt that.” He says mostly to himself, tugging at the hair behind his ear. 

You look at him, jittery, wrinkled clothes, chewing at his thumbnail. 

“Are you high?” You ask, tilting your head to get a better look at his face, trying to make out if it’s a bruise or just bags under his eyes. 

He quickly shakes his head. “No, no-no-no, I-I don’t do pills or anything. I mean, maybe I should, to be honest– but I’ve never done drugs of any kind.” 

You throw up your hands. “Why would I believe you after yesterday!” 

“Yesterday? Why– What happened yesterday.” 

“Unbelievable. You know, you aren’t worth this. Don’t text me anymore.” You turn to the door, but his whirls around you in a panic, blocking you. 

“Wait! Wait, please. Look I don’t know what happened the other night, but I assure you that's not me, I’m not like that, I would never say stuff like that, I’d never use you, I like you! I really like you, and I don’t want to never see you again.” 

You study his expression, torn between how completely devoid of any sort of dishonesty it looks, paired with how desperate his tone is, and just who you remember walking out of your apartment. 

“You’re acting completely different now.” You shake your head, hanging it and letting out a long sigh before looking back up at him, which you immediately regret because he has the saddest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. “I have to get to work. If you think you can explain to me just what the hell is going on with you, meet me at the park at six thirty, I’ll… I’ll hear you out.” 

“Thank you,” he folds his hands, needing to shout after you as you make to leave. “I won’t let you down, I promise!”

You give a dismissive wave as you head out museum's front doors. 

“…and that’s all I know, I swear.” You’re seated on a bench in the park. By now the sun has set, and the lights are the only illumination with a cloudy night sky. 

“I believe you.” You sigh, letting the leg you’d been sitting on down from the bench to stretch. “How often does this happen?” 

“Most nights. I’ve been trying not to sleep because of it.” 

You shake your head. “Why the hell haven’t you gone to a doctor?” 

“Because I can sort it, it’s fine. You go to a doctor if you're sick, I’m not sick.” He fiddles with his hands, realizing your looking at them he smoothes them down his pants and keeps them on his knees. 

“Sleepwalking isn’t sick. It-it’s just like, stress, or something.” Even saying it aloud he didn’t believe it, but what was the alternative? That he was legitimately mad? 

“Steven, look at me. You need to get help for this. That's mental. It’s not normal. Tell me you’ll get help.” 

“I’ll look into it.” He scratches at his 

You frown. “And mean it. You need help.” 

“I mean it, I will get help.” He nods when you put a hand over his, pulling him into a side hug. 

“Thank God.” You murmur. 

Two months later, you and Steven are kind of dating. 

Though your relationship had taken a big step back, you still texted and called him frequently. You didn’t feel like you could bring yourself to getting any closer, not when you still didn’t know who you had woken up in bed with. 

Today he’s over for tea, on your couch with his hands folded, helping himself to the biscuits you put out. 

You come back from putting the water on, stuffing a couple cookies in your mouth before he can eat them all. 

“Oh! I erm, I got you a copy of that new CD from that band you like.” Steven digs around in his bag, pulling out a still wrapped album, handing it to you. 

“Holy cow.” You scoff as you take it. 

It was the newest release from your favorite band, and had been sold out everywhere for more than two weeks. 

“I can’t believe you remembered. I’m putting this on right now.” You pop on the stereo, slow rock jams filling the apartment as the water boils and you bring the pot to the table, filling Steven’s cup. 

“So how are you doing?” You ask. 

“Oh, mostly good. I still haven’t figured him, Marc, out much, but I am sleeping better.” 

“You figure out just what ‘he’ is yet.” 

“No, still no diagnosis. I’m having trouble finding a therapist I like. I also, you know, not keen on institutionalization.” 

“Right. Well I mean so long as he doesn’t decide to go on some break.” You grimace, wondering what the hell he could’ve had been up to in Madripoor of all places, if he’d even been serious. 

“Beg your pardon?” 

“Never mind.” You give your hand a wave.” I still can’t believe I’m how you found out.” 

“Hey now hang on, I knew, I just didn’t know why.” He stands up to be at your height, annoyed. 

“Or how, or what.” You give him a look. 

“Yeah. But I did know.” He shrugs. “Even though he was trying to keep it from me.” 

“Well yeah, probably because you’re the nice one. Marc is a prick.” 

“The hell did she just say about me!?” Marc growls, catching his eye in his reflection in your tea kettle. 

Steven blinks. “He didn’t like that.” 

You draw your brow, frowning. “He can hear me?” 

“Apparently? I don’t get most of it myself, I didn’t think he could hear me till like last week.” 

You push off the back of the couch. “Tell him to come out here and talk to me right now.” 

“Uh, right, sure, yeah. Marc, you heard her.” He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

When he opens them again, you slap him across the face. 

He cups his cheek, turning to look at you. “Still Steven!” 

“Shit– I’m sorry!” You cover your mouth. 

“You were going to smack him? But that’s me!” 

“I thought– I didn’t think it through, really. Is he not there?” 

“I can’t really make him come out, he just kind of does it if I let him.” 

“I’m sorry I hit you.” You say. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “He totally deserves it. Prick is right on the money.” 

“Even so, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Already better.” He smiles. “Though a kiss wouldn’t hurt…” 

You raise a brow and smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

You hang out a while longer before heads home, leaving you to think. 

“I want to date her too.” 

“What?” Steven looks up at his mirror from across the room. “You won’t tell me where you’ve been pissing years of my life away, what you’ve been doing, but now you want to meddle with the one good thing that’s happened to me, after you nearly screwed it all up? That’s rich.” 

“I didn’t want much of anything to do with her until I saw the way she slapped you, I mean, that was unexpected.”

“She’s for sure, isn’t she? All the more reason you will not seeing her unless she asks.” 

“Let me talk to her or I’ll break up with her.” 

“We’re not together…ish. I don’t know, it’s not the simplest.” 

“I’ll ghost her. Delete her contacts. You know I will.” 

“Alright! Okay, fine. Jesus.” 

He picks up his phone. “Don’t you negotiate in anything but threats?” He starts to dial your number, then stops. 

“Hang on… you’re jealous, aren’t you?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“You're jealous I have a girlfriend and you don’t. And she doesn’t talk nicely about you.” 

“I’d stop talking now.” 

“Holy shit, that’s hilarious. You act like you think my life is boring, but you envy it.” 

Marc glares at him, jaw working. 

“I’ll tell you what, I will set you up, but you have to tell me what you’ve been doing, and where you've been taking me.” 

“Khonshu’s not gonna like that.” 

“Again with bloody Khonshu. You’re flipping bending over backwards for that fool. Figure it out, cause that’s that.” 

“Fine.” 

“Perfect. Done deal.” 

He hits dial. “Hey so uh, Marc wants to meet you. Properly. I’ve told him he needs to apologize.” Marc rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. “Right. Yeah. Can you meet me?” 

“This… Marc the Merc, the pissy one?” You say, looking him over. You’d met Steven not far from the museum, and held his hand while he relaxed and let Marc take over. 

“Yes, it’s me again. Hi.” You meet his eyes, feeling oddly bothered by just how the same they look. It’s Steven, but it’s not. 

It’s painfully not him, and yet you can’t put into words how. 

“Hey,” you say, not sure what else you’re supposed to. 

“Let’s get this part out of the way: I’m sorry I walked out on you. It’s Steven’s fault we were there at all, and I had shit to attend to, but I was less than curt about it.” 

“Accepted, if that’s the best I’m going to get.” You nod, and he gestures for you to walk with him, so you do. 

“I haven’t been keeping tabs. What’s he been telling you about me?” He says. 

“Not a lot. I mean, he barely knows you, and neither do I.” 

“There’s not a lot to tell. He’s not supposed to be tangled with my life, but, since he is, I figure we might as well share.” 

You stop, and he does too. 

“What?” He says. “I’m willing to be more open if you are.” 

“What are you talking about? Are you saying you want to get with me?” 

“Would you like to?” 

He looks you right in the eyes, catching you off guard. Before you can answer he cups your face and kisses you, arm around your lower back, nearly lifting you off the ground. 

You pull away, eyes wide, breath ragged, trying to get your brain to catch up with your body, realizing you're right in the street where everyone can see you. 

“Too much?” He asks. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Just– just surprised me.” It’s quiet for a moment. 

“His apartment’s not far,” he finally says. “If you wanna see just how much of a prick I am.” 

You stare up at your boyfriend’s apartment ceiling, wondering what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into. 

You turn when you hear footsteps coming back to the bed. 

“Hi,” he gives you a little wave, holding out a cup of tea. 

You sit up on your elbows, slowly taking it. “Steven?” You say tentatively. 

“Yep, it’s me.” You stand up, throwing back half the cup and setting it aside, swallowing. “Everything go okay?” He asks.

You nearly knock him over in a hug, burying your face into his shoulder. 

“Better than okay,” you say, smiling against his bare skin. 

“Really? Oh, Gods, that's a relief.” He wraps his arm around you, pressing his nose to the top of your head. 

“Marc was different than I thought.” 

“Now we’re even, he said he’d cooperate with me some more, so I think it all works out?” 

“I love you. Both of you.” 

“Really? It’s not too weird?” 

“Hey,” you press a kiss to the bridge of his nose. “I like ‘em weird.” 

Even though you had next to no idea what was to come, between you, Steven, and Marc, you were confident you would figure it out.

[vintageshanny]

Zippers and Kisses

This is just a flirty fantasy I’ve created in my mind after reading the story behind these pictures in Shirley Connell’s book.

Content: Elvis being the marvelously complex person that he was - confident, insecure, sweet, funny, etc. PG13 I think?

October 1976

“See? I told you that it was him!” Trudy exclaimed triumphantly as she whipped her car into the gas station parking lot. “I’d recognize that sexy bod anywhere,” she added with a giggle.

“Me too,” Effie whispered, almost to herself, her heart pounding out of her chest as she watched Elvis climb off his motorcycle and saunter into the building. “Don’t let Jim hear you say that, though,” she warned her friend.

Trudy rolled her eyes at the mention of her husband’s jealousy of Elvis. “Yeah, I guess you’ll have to do all the flirting tonight.”

“I’ll be lucky if I can remember my name,” Effie murmured as she got out of the car, somehow propelling herself forward as if she wasn’t about to have the most surreal experience of her life.

As they approached the building, Elvis came walking back out with two of his guys following close behind.

“Hey Trudy honey, how’ve ya been?” Elvis asked, nodding at her and Effie.

Trudy could never fully grasp that Elvis knew her name, even after years of hanging out by the gate and talking to him whenever she got the chance.

“Good, Elvis, it’s so nice to see you. This is my friend Effie, she’s visiting Memphis for a few weeks and really wanted to meet you.”

Elvis looked over intrigued as Trudy discreetly backed away and started a conversation with the guys. She knew Effie really wanted to talk to Elvis alone, but that was never easy these days.

“Ya really wanted ta meet me?” he asked, sounding oddly flattered, as if there were not millions of women dying to meet him.

“Of course. I mean, I’m such a big fan of yours. I have all of your records,” Effie rambled nervously, sounding like a starstruck teenager instead of the 29-year-old woman she was. Elvis looked amused as she continued on. “I’m sorry, I’m so nervous. I, um, I just think you’re so special.”

Elvis’ smile widened noticeably at that. “Aw honey, ain’t no need ta be nervous around little old me. I’m just a regular guy.”

“A regular guy out for a midnight motorcycle ride with an entourage and a pack of groupies following.” Effie laughed, finally letting herself relax.

“Exactly. Oh, did ya wanna see my badge?” Elvis suddenly asked excitedly, unzipping his jacket to show off the badge on his belt.

“Oh wow, it’s sparkly!” Effie exclaimed as she leaned down to get a closer look.

“I had some diamonds added to it,” Elvis explained proudly, looking down with a smile as she studied the badge. He tilted it a little bit so she could see the diamonds better. He saw her eyes trail to the rings on his fingers and then to something else below his belt.

Effie’s eyes widened as she noticed a little glinting piece of metal that was not in its proper position. She blushed as she thought how easy it would be to reach her hand into that opening in the fabric and touch the bulge that was nestled there. She blushed even harder when she looked up and saw Elvis staring down with a little crooked smirk on his face.

“Honey, somehow I don’t think you’re lookin’ at the badge anymore. Somethin’ else caught your eye?” he teased, his tongue slipping out to lick his lips.

“Yes, I mean it’s just that...” Effie leaned in close to him and lowered her voice. “It’s just that your zipper is down,” she whispered.

“It is?” Now it was Elvis’ turn to blush as he reached down and yanked the zipper up hurriedly. He tried to pull the zipper up on his jacket as well, feeling suddenly much too exposed. He should’ve just stayed home tonight.

Effie watched as Elvis fumbled with the zipper on his jacket, his cheeks turning pinker by the second. He’s embarrassed and self-conscious, she thought to herself, her heart melting at the realization.

She put her hands on his and gently instructed, “Let me help you.” She carefully lined up the zipper and pulled it halfway up, noticing with delight how the jacket pulled tautly across his soft middle.

“Thank ya, honey,” Elvis mumbled, feeling like a fool.

How to get back to that flirty banter? Effie wondered. Time to be bold. “Y’know, I would’ve helped you with your other zipper too.”

There was that beautiful lopsided grin again. “Is that right, honey?”

“Yes, look how good I am at making sure the teeth are all lined up right.” She trailed her finger down the zipper of his jacket, letting her hand rest on his stomach.

“Oh baby, I don’t think I want ya usin’ any teeth down there at all,” Elvis laughed.

Effie’s face turned red, but Elvis’ loud uninhibited laugh was contagious, and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling.

“You didn’t have to come out here with your zipper down to get my attention, I would’ve been looking anyway,” she teased.

Elvis grinned and looked away, shaking his head a little as he blushed again. “You’re really somethin’, honey, y’know that?”

“I mean it, Elvis. You look so good. So good,” she repeated

“Tryin ta butter me up, huh? That must mean ya want somethin’. What can I do for ya baby?”

Effie felt her body go into some sort of sensory overload as Elvis grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in close to him, still smiling as his fingertips caressed her lower back.

“Well,” she squeaked out. “As long as you’re offering, I would love a kiss.”

“A kiss?” Elvis repeated, leaning in closer, relishing the feeling of a woman’s soft body reacting to his touch.

Effie nodded, unable to form words any longer as Elvis’ lips moved closer, slightly parted. His breath was warm and sweet against her own as his plush mouth finally landed on hers. She felt a soft flick of his tongue against her lips before he pulled back, the expression on his face as blissful as she felt.

“How was that honey?” he asked, his eyes searching her face for reassurance that he still had something special to offer.

“My whole body is tingling,” Effie whispered, her judgment clouded from her state of euphoria.

“Mine too,” Elvis chuckled. “I might have some more zipper problems soon.”

“Well you know who to call for help.” Effie smiled up at him as he gave her another tight squeeze before turning to get his helmet from one of his guys.

“I hope I see ya around again, honey. Don’t forget about me.”

“Well?” Trudy demanded as they got back to the car. “I gave you some time alone with him. Was it everything you’ve dreamed of?”

“He was so sweet and vulnerable and human.” Effie leaned back in her seat, still in a daze. “I think I can die happy,” she whispered.

[softlypaintedseafoam]

the summer moon was born from the waves to be loved

synopsis. you get pregnant and the ghost of university days past finds out five years later.

pairing. gojou satoru x f!reader (afab)

word count. 10.2k | masterlist

content warning. 18+ (mentions of sex but nothing explicit), college au (no powers), friends with benefits, pregnancy, hidden child trope, onesided feelings (unreliable narrator), use of y/n

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

a repost of an old favorite two-part story of mine. this story originally came about as a what if discussion concerning characters from jjk to tokrev to even bllk and the gojou idea was the most inspiring so i really ran with it. pt 2 will be posted later this week. this is filler while i work on my current wips

o. ghost

This felt like something out of a bad movie.

One of those “yeah, that’s me. The one looking like she just shit herself because the ghost of Christmas past just showed up” kinds of movies. The ghost of Christmas past whom you haven’t seen in the last five years.

The ghost of Christmas past that your daughter looks at curiously, wondering who put you in such a stupor as she asks sweetly, “who’s he, Mommy?”

The ghost of Christmas past whose face is unreadable as he looks at Itsuki before he settles his gaze on you. “Yeah, [First],” the ghost asks. “Who am I?”

Where did I go wrong?

A rhetorical question. 

A lot in life has to go wrong for a man you thought you left in your memories to show up at your doorstep but you can pinpoint the exact moment in time in which you screwed up. It’s all because you sat next to Ieiri Shoko in your mandatory calculus class. If it weren’t for that, none of this would be happening.

No, that isn’t it. Your gaze turns to Itsuki, who looks back at you with familiar light blue eyes and white hair. She may have gotten the Gojou Satoru eye and hair colors, but her hair texture and skin tone both pointed to you. If I sat anywhere else she wouldn’t be here. And even if you knew that sitting next to Shoko meant meeting the world’s most aggravating man you could have fallen for, you feel like you would have taken that path once again.

No, sitting next to Shoko wasn’t where you messed up all those years agoー it was telling her you were pregnant in the first place.

i. spring tide

When you met Gojou Satoru, you considered it a godsend.

Not because his eyes were a rare shade of blue that most would kill to have. Not because he was drop dead gorgeous and the last person you were expecting to see when your classmate Shoko invited you to eat lunch with her and a couple friends.

The reason was a lot more simple thatー he was the first person you’d met in years that had watched and liked Digimon more than Pokemon. I am so glad I sat next to that Shoko girl, you thought in gleeful disbelief as he told you his personal favorites before flipping the question onto you. “I’m basic,” you told him with a laugh. “I’ve been riding the wave of Gatomon love since I was 7.”

Getou Suguru, Satoru’s childhood best friend from what you’d gathered, groaned, “please don’t make him continue with your excitement.”

“Ignore him,” Satoru pushed Suguru’s face away with all the nonchalance in the world. “He thinks Digimon is stupid.”

“It’s a Pokemon bootleg!” Suguru shot back with a sly smile.

In unison, you and Satoru gasped in disbelief and offense. “Boy bye! You can talk all the shit you want about Digimon, I can rest every night at ease knowing if my house were on fire Agumon would be able to say ‘[First], your house is on fire’,” you sneered in jest at the man, Satoru clapping in agreement all the while at your defense. “You don’t get that kind of insurance with Pikachu! ‘Pika pika’ could mean so many things!”

“Where have you been all my life?” Satoru snickered, holding his hand out for a high five you reciprocated with complete enthusiasm.

“Watching Digimon by myself,” you laughed, whipping out your phone. You needed this man’s number stat. “The next time I have a Digimon rewatch, I’m inviting you over. Like, you don’t have the option to refuse, you’ve doomed yourself.”

Satoru’s eyes were gleaming from his lowered shades, “funny, I was about to say the exact same thing to you,” he glanced over at Suguru with a teasing look. “Friendship ended with Suguru, [First] is my new best friend,” the white-haired student declared as he typed his number into your phone.

He labeled himself Digidestined Satoru, sending a text to himself: This is coming from the phone of Digidestined [First]. Your cheeks hurt from how widely you were grinning as you looked at the message. “That better be what you put me in your phone.”

“Definitely, new best friend,” Satoru promised, whipping his own phone around to show your new contact in it. Digidestined [First] it was.

Despite the apparent disownership, Suguru looked amused and unbothered, “okay but see if your ex-best friend takes notes for you if you ever take off from class.” Suddenly your new brother-in-Digimon was singing a different tune, waxing poetic about how Digimon and Pokemon were brothers from different mothers. You rolled your eyes but you’re unmistakably giddy as you watched him talk with his hands.

“There doesn’t need to bad blood between the two,” Satoru ended with a grand bow. “As such, I declare that I can have more than one best friend.”

“How did we even get on the topic of Digimon,” Shoko asked with an amused look on her face, cracking open another beer. “That was so random.”

You grabbed your own beer with a light giggle, you felt rather light compared to how you started this day. “His sunglasses had a Metal Greymon-like pattern and I had to say something about it,” you say after a few sips. “Glad I did because now I have a new brother-in-Digimon.”

Blue eyes held your gaze for a moment and you clacked your cans together in celebration.

That was how your friendship started. Clothed in beer and Digimon. It took about a week before he swept over to your place, seeking out the promise to watch Digimon together. If you can really call what you did watching, you spent more than half of the time talking over the episodes about miscellaneous topics than actually watching Tai and the gang try to get back to the physical world.

He’d known Suguru since he was 5.

(“We got into a fight on the playground. I wanted the swing and he wouldn’t get off. So I kicked him and he threw sand at my face, we’ve been buddies ever since.”

“I have a lot of questions about how y’all went from trying to kill each other to being best friends.”

“Look, don’t question our methods.”)

He was a December Sagittarius, born December 7th.

(”Yeah, I can tell!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”)

He apparently started eating sweets to stimulate his brain but ended up with a sweet tooth.

(“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, did you get that shit from Death Note?!”

“…. no.”

“Oh my god, you did!”

“You literally got a tattoo of a butterfly because of a crush you had on Jolyne from Part 6, shut up!”

“Satoru, don’t play these games with me.”)

He sounded eerily similar to Bruno Bucciarati from part 5 of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure.

(”Arrivederci!”

“Oh my god that’s insane! You do! Say something else!”

“STICKY FINGERS!!!”

“PFFT-”

“See? I could totally get away with saying I voiced him and no one would bat an eyelash.”

“Who else do you sound like?”

“I’ve been told I make a great impression of Kuroo from Haikyuu!!”

He did, by the way.)

And he was currently enrolled as a business major. 

(“My old man wouldn’t get off my back about it. You?”

“Marine biology.”

“We have that program here?”)

He had a natural charisma that just drew people in, yourself included. That’s why you think it was so easy being with him, he made it feel like you’d been friends all your life even if reality said otherwise. He made everyone feel like that, that’s why he’d always be surrounded by people.

Still, he’d find a way to make you feel special when his eyes would light up in recognition when he saw you wave across the room at parties.

How he’d jig across the room with those lanky limbs of his to grab you in a hug. “[First], you finally made it! Thanks for coming out of the bat cave you call a room to grace us with your presence!”

It made you feel special that you were friends with the person adored by everyone else. That’s why you could playfully push him off of you and say, “you mean the bat cave you crawl to when you lock yourself out of your room and Suguru isn’t in either?”

“I’m hurt, why are you being mean to me?” Satoru pouted batting his white eyelashes like a distressed damsel. “Don’t you know who you’re being mean to when you’re being an ass? This, this is who you’re being mean to,” he gestured to himself.

“Last week you ate my fries after I specifically said not to touch them because I counted how many I had left, I know exactly who I’m being mean to.”

“How was I supposed to know you’d count them again whenever you decided to eat them?” Your irritation from last week had long since passed though, that was why you could laugh it off with a shake of your head. Satoru was Satoru, it was what you liked most about him even if he could be a pain in the ass.

Suguru’s brown eyes twinkled as you joined the small fray of him, Shoko and Utahime in a corner of the room, “I’m just glad I’m not the only one dealing with him anymore.” Satoru suck his tongue out with a ‘rude’.

“Someone has to do the dirty work,” Shoko replied as she raised a cigarette to her lips. “it might as well be us.”

Utahime smacked the tobacco stick out of her girlfriend’s hands as she said, “I’d rather not be included in the list of people of doing the dirty work.”

“Et tu, [First], et tu?” Satoru asked when you made no effort to come to his defense.

You raised your hands in mock defense, “I have to be a little mean to you sometimes, Satoru,” you told him with a snicker. “It keeps you from getting too big an ego.”

Whether or not that was working was debatable.

The night went on smoothly until your favorite brand of beer had been noticeably picked off from the coolers.

That’s my cue to leave.

“Sorry gang, but my lips don’t touch anything but Don Equis and Asahi,” you said with an air of regality not suited for a party of college students. “Maybe Corona if there’s nothing else. I’m not drinking… whatever this is. So I’m gonna head out, there’s a 24 hour liquor store around here somewhere.”

A chorus of farewells came from your friends minus one. “You coming back?” Satoru looked over at you in earnest.

But you shook your head, “nah, I think I’m done for the night,” you told him truthfully. Your social battery was gone for the rest of the evening and home was the only place you wanted to be. “I’ll catch you guys later though,” you stood up with a stretch.

Satoru stood up with you, “I’ll walk you back to your place then.”

Which was how you ended up sipping beers at the park, laying on soft grass. It wasn’t truly quiet, not with the passing of cars and the occasional passersby but it was quiet enough compared to the welcomed ruckus of the party. “Satoru,” Satoru hummed wordlessly in acknowledgement. “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

“Dunno,” Satoru shrugged back pressed against the earth snuggly. “I never really got to think about it.”

He was an only child and as such the only one his parents’ turned their gaze to with pressure of taking over the family business. He confided in you ages ago how he hated it when you started seeing more sides of Satoru than the mischief-loving comedian he presented himself as.

You scooted closer to him to lean over his head, “well I think whatever you end up doing, even if it ends up really pissing off your dad, you’ll be great at it. You’re Satoru, that’s how I know you’ll be fine,” your voice held the tone of a promise. I promise you’ll be fine and you’ll be happy.

Thanks, [First]. You liked to think that was what that look on Satoru’s face meant. “I think you’ll make a great part-time aquarist, full-time whale researcher,” Satoru replied instead.

“You’re damn right I will,” you smiled warmly at him, moving a stray strand of his hair off his forehead. “Be careful I don’t disappear for months, spirited away by the sea folk on my Children of the Sea shit.” You took his sunglasses off, you had no clue how he was able to wear them 24/7. Even stranger was how he was still able to walk so easily at night despite having them on. Apparently the Gojou eye genes were built different; the colors of his eyes certainly were. “I’ll come back to shore occasionally, mysterious as the sea itself.” The sea you got to see every time you looked at his eyes, even if now they were barely visible even with the street lights.

Satoru looked back at you with a small smirk, “even if you got spirited away, I’d just go and bring you right back. Suguru’ll kill me if I try and make him watch Digimon Tamers with me again. You said it first, remember?” His voice was low as he recalled your exact words from your first meeting. “You’ve doomed yourself. There’s no ditching me now, not even at sea.”

“I did say something like that, didn’t I,” you smiled wryly. 

He didn’t say anything back, but you could guess that he was likely thinking something along the lines ‘yep, that you did. No take backsies.’ A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, his eyes staring up at yours. It’s then you swore you saw him glance at your lips from where he laid and just when you considered the idea of kissing himー the sprinklers turned on.

Even worse, in your surprise his head clashed into yours as he tried getting up with a start.

Then there was a dash of bullshit on the side when your beers spilled over into the grass.

Great, you thought as Satoru tossed your emptied cans into a nearby trash can after you got out of the line of fire. You shook your arms, droplets of water flying off your soaked sleeves.

You should have taken that as a major sign from the universe that you would be making a mistake of gargantuan proportions if you kissed that man.

Instead, the two of you looked at each other and laughed. “God I hate this park, why do we even come here? Nothing good ever happens when we do,” Satoru said with a shake of his damp hair.

“This is the first time we’ve ever even come here,” you snickered.

“And see what a great start we’re already having with it?”

“Come on,” you tugged him by the wrist. “Let’s just change at my place, you have some clothes somewhere over there.”

A smarter person would have left it at that once you got home and showered, placing your clothes in the wash. It could have been a pleasant end to the evening, the two of you crashing on the couch while watching some dumb movie you never heard of on Netflix.

But the same atmosphere from the park came back with you when he came out of the bathroom at the same time you planned to knock on it to ask if he wanted something warm to drink. “Oh, sorry-” you say when your fist lightly landed on his chest instead of the door. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted tea or something. I bought your favorite brand of honey.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” he answered but you made no move to go to the kitchen and he made no move to ask when you would.

Who kissed who first, you weren’t sure. It didn’t really hit you that you were kissing until Satoru tore his lips from yours with a pant, “hey how drunk are you because I really just wanna make sure-”

“I’m not,” you pulled his lips back onto yours and Satoru hadn’t wasted time in hoisting you up by the legs.

ii. neap tide

When does one stop sleeping with their friend? You suppose it is probably when you realize you have feelings for them.

You didn’t do that.

If it had been anyone else doing this to themselves, you would have told them to cut the cord while the feelings were still manageable.

Or maybe you at least tell the other party how they felt.

You didn’t do that either.

Maybe that was why it was all catching up to you one day when you woke up feeling like crap. The physical manifestation of your stress coming back to bite you in the ass. Right before the trip you were planning on taking with your friends, you started feeling like crap only exacerbated when Satoru was in your presence.

But you still went despite your physically manifested stress because you’re a pushover. Or more specifically, if it involved Satoru, you folded faster than Sunday morning laundry. You had to when he looked at you in concerned disbelief you were trying to drop out of your plans last minute.

“Satoru, it isn’t the end of the world if I stay home. It’s just a week long break.”

“A week long break from your friends? From me? Your best friend?”

You struggled not to laugh, “last week you said I was kicked from that position because I watched one episode of Love is Blind without you.”

Satoru scowled at the memory, “because that’s our show, we started that together, there’s no watching ahead,” he reprimanded you. “And clearly I’ve forgiven you since you’re back in that position because I can’t believe you’re trying to leave me to survive with a couple and Suguru for a week!”

You puckered your lips and shrugged, “if it’s any consolation, Suguru is your boyfriend like 95% of the time.”

“Well right now Suguru is that asshole Kenjaku’s boyfriend and Kenjaku is supposed to be coming and I do not want to fourth wheel that by myself.”

You flicked his nose softly, “so you want me to third party fourth wheel with you so you don’t have to be alone with two couples?”

Satoru grinned and you stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. “Third party fourth wheel with benefits, yes.”

You stared at him for one, two, three seconds before you relented. “Look, I’m only going because I want the sex, not because I’m happily agreeing to fourth wheel with you.”

Satoru whooped regardless in his victory, “works for me!” He chortled as he went back to scrolling on his phone.

Silence fell over you as fiddled with your pointer finger and thumb.

“Hey,” Satoru spared a glance from whatever he was staring at on twitter. “What are we supposed to be?” Blue eyes grew to the size of saucers and you continued, “Classic no strings attached? Or is this supposed to be going somewhere?”

That made him set down his phone, “why,” he licked his lips before grinning, but it looked forced even to your eyes. “Why are you asking me that so randomly?”

You deserved an Oscar for how smoothly you delivered what came from your mouth. “Well what if the receptionist there is hot? I don’t need to make things between us awkward because it turned out we aren’t on the same page,” you thumbed behind you in the direction of the hotel. “‘What the hell, [First]’,” you deepened your voice, puckering your bottom lip as you whined. “‘I thought we had something special and you fucked the receptionist? What if they end up fucking with our reservation now?!’”

“First of all, that is not what I sound like,” Satoru stuck his tongue out at you but his shoulders were relaxed and subtle he tried to be, you could feel the relief rolling off of him in waves. “Second, fucking the receptionist does sound like a terrible idea because what if they do fuck our reservation because things go south? Just find someone at a club like the rest of us. But fucking someone else is a non-issue, get all the ass you want.”

“Well glad to know I have the Gojou Satoru thumb of approval,” you smiled and Satoru grinned in return, giving you a nudge with his elbow and you nudged him back. Underneath the calm, you were a storm of turbulent emotions. You weren’t surprised, your feelings had been confirmed. This wasn’t a Disney movie. You weren’t Tiana and he wasn’t Naveenー you weren’t going to turn this commitment-phobe into something he wasn’t. Yet the pain of the confirmation echoed in your chest. “Well, not when it comes to the receptionist.”

“Because no one fucks someone with the power of their reservation at their fingertips, that’s like,” Satoru searched his mind for the perfect example. “Handing over the poison to a chef and that chef was the person you were planning on poisoning.” So is continuing to sleep with someone who didn’t want the same things as you.

You couldn’t help laughing at your idiocy, relieved that Satoru took it as a humorous dig at his less than perfect metaphor. “I’m still fucking the receptionist if they’re hot.”

“I hope they’re married and old, how about that?”

“I’ve always liked them with a little salt and pepper. I fucked your prematurely whitening headass, didn’t I?”

“First of all, this is all natural-”

You’ve doomed yourself.

iii. red tide

Denial.

Anger.

Bargaining.

Depression.

Acceptance.

Those are the five stages of grief. It was certainly the steps that you experienced when the fact your period was late hit you while you were floating when Utahime gasped about the sea turning red.

Red tide, it was the first you’d ever seen it. But that excitement or concern about the possibility of what that meant completely subsided as you stared at the reddening shoreline when you realized a noticeable absence of red that week.

There was no way you were late for any particular reason. This was one of those flukes, your period always had a tendency to be finicky. It would be early or late at its convenience, never mind you being the one suffering. That’s why it was absolutely ludicrous that you left the beach to buy a pregnancy test.

And if you were the word you refused to think, it was your own damn fault for playing with karma the one time you decide to trust Satoru’s pullout game. Both of you were stupid, very very turned on and stupid and you should have just waited to get a condom.

But in the chance you weren’t pregnant, you swore you were going to remain celibate the rest of your university experience. You’d focus on other things, like journaling consistently like you said you would when you were writing your New Year’s revolutions.

Bargaining means nothing to biology, however, that was what you took as the universe’s answers when you were forced to look at the positive result staring back at you.

A lot of thoughts would run through a person’s head at an unplanned pregnancy resulting from a very ill-advised friends with benefits relationship.

Were you still in depression? Or had you reached acceptance yet? You weren’t entirely sure as you stared out the sparkling sea. Your sight blurring the stars above and the stars below did little reassure you as the possibilities ran through your mind.

What would you tell Satoru?

How would he react?

Would he think this was why you asked him about where your relationship was supposed to be heading?

Would assume the worst of you and accuse you of trying to trap him into a relationship when it was clearly supposed to be no strings attached from the beginning?

You didn’t know which unknown would hurt you more.

I should really decide on whether or not I’ll keep it to begin with before I start with all the scenarios, you inhaled deeply with shudder but you didn’t bother to wipe your tears. The blurriness was your own punishment. If I don’t, I never have to tell him anything. We can just cut this off and he’ll be none the wiser.

It was the most optimal scenario when you were still in college. You were barely handling the fees you currently had to pay for school, a child definitely wouldn’t help with that.

Was it too late to find something unhealthy to use as a coping mechanism?

“Yo,” you could have laughed bitterly. Of course, this is when Satoru shows up now. Right after you’ve isolated yourself away from everyone else on the more populated part of the beach. He was grinning, you could hear it in his voice. “[Fir]- hey are you alright?”

Great.

“Yeah, it’s just, you ever see something so beautiful you want to cry? It’s one of those things,” when he looked unsure, you grinned widely and wiped your tears. You didn’t need him to suspect a damn thing. “Seriously, dude, this was the reason I wanted to go into marine biology as a kid. I saw a picture of it once and decided, I wanna see that too. It’s just a surreal moment for me.”

At your reassurance, Satoru sighed, “geez, don’t freak me out like that.” You snorted as he settled next to you and you couldn’t think of anything humorous to say.

“Pretty cool, right?” The blue of the bioluminescence was reminiscent of his eyes, the thought crossed your mind now that he was in front of you.

Satoru whistled, impressed, “yeah but what is it?” He slapped a foot down on the ground, whistling again at the additional sparkling at the stimulus. “You’re the marine biologist, explain the science to me.”

“Sea sparkle,” you told him with a snort, heart drumming all the while. “I never thought I’d see something like this in my life. Red tides are signs of algal blooms are going to happen. They can be harmful but sometimes, completely harmless. This is the completely harmless kind,” a sparkling wave rolled across your feet as if to prove your point. “Well, technically harmless, there’s some conflicting evidence on whether or not it’s okay to swim in. We shouldn’t touch or swim in it to be safe. It’s just been a childhood dream of mine to do this, so don’t tell my friends in the not-dumb-scientist community. And wash your skin really really well tonight before going to bed.”

A grin blossomed on his face in his usual expression of mischief, “I ain’t no snitch.”

“Good because if you do I’m telling Shoko it was you that ate her leftovers,” you stuck your tongue out petulantly and Satoru kicked a splash at your thigh.

“Anyways,” Satoru drawled, observing the glow of his footsteps in the sand. “How long will it last?”

“It depends, sometimes a week. Sometimes a month,” definitely longer than the two of you and the situationship you’ve maintained thus far. “Once the food source runs out, they’re out. But hopefully they’ll be here the rest of our vacation, it’s pretty cool, right?”

“Yep, pretty damn cool,” he repeated like you hadn’t already asked that question earlier.

Satoru wasn’t yours, nothing was going to change that.

iv. ebb

If I’m not going to tell him, I need to leave.

That was the conclusion you came to after ultimately deciding to keep your child. Gojou Satoru wasn’t yours to keep, that was more than apparent. You wouldn’t force him to stay by means of a pregnancy.

You weren’t the first single mother in existence, you doubted you’d be the last. You’d do everything, without his help. Everything would be figured out in due time, it didn’t matter the run around you would have to take.

It took a week after the trip for you to come to that conclusion, packing your bags so you could head home. You’d transfer to a different school, there was no way you’d be able to keep a pregnancy underwraps on campus. Especially not from your friends.

You tried to distance yourself from your friends slowly, but even an inch was noticeable.

You alright?

What kind of sadists are your professors if you’re this busy?

Just let me know if you need me to come over some kind of distraction. Sorry for coming over earlier unannounced, I shouldn’t have assumed. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Those were the texts Satoru sent you the most. If any your friends doubted you, it seemed Satoru doubted you the most despite your reassurance that once you got your workload more manageable you’d be more available. You told him things were fine, maybe he just doubted you because you never told him he couldn’t come over whenever he felt like it. That was how things had been since you became friends.

Your place was his place, his place was yours.

That’s why Shoko had to be at your apartment, arms crossed and looking thoroughly tired.

“What’s been up with you anyway?” Shoko barged into your apartment before you could stop her. “Satoru’s been driving me insane asking me to check on you.” So she said, but you saw the worry on her face even if she tried to hide it. “So what’s going on? He says he’s pretty sure something is going on and you don’t want to tell him. Are you failing a class or something?”

“Nothing,” you told her a little too quickly and the brunette gave you a look that said ‘girl, please’. If your attempt to look as composed as possible wasn’t doing you favors, neither was how messy your room was. “Seriously, Shoko, I’m fine. Satoru’s just being overdramatic. It’s Satoru, you should know this. He went to your clinic once for almost breaking a nail.”

Shoko rolled her eyes at the memory, “yeah but now he’s pestering me to see if you’re actually fine or if you’re just trying to shut him out,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before the concern peeps out of her face. “He said once in high school Suguru pushed him away and stuff went bad between them for a while. He felt like it was his fault for not trying hard enough to see what was bothering him. The rest of us are being chill about everything but we are worried too, you know. Just considerably less dramatically than others.”

That made your heart twist in both in the best and worst ways.

“It’s…” you took a step back and held yourself. “It’s fine. Tell Satoru he’s just being dramatic.”

“Then why is your suitcase out?” [Color] stared into brown as Shoko’s look told you that she wouldn’t drop it until you came clean to her. “Is it that serious? I won’t force you to talk about it, but I at least want to know how okay you are and it’s something you can manage on your own. That’s all, I promise I won’t say anything to Satoru if you really don’t want him knowing,” she’s the most gentle you’ve ever seen her. Only Utahime is privy to the softest of Shoko’s expressions but you can’t help but appreciate the look of worry she has. But I don’t want you to just up and disappear on us either.”

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I,” you licked your lips and sat down on your couch. “I’m thinking of transferring to another school.”

Shoko peers into your face, “and you’re worried about how we’ll take it?”

You shook your head. “I am worried about that but, I’m more worried about the why I need to leave. My parents will probably freak out too, but I’m going to promise them this isn’t going to stop me from pursuing my education.” Wide as her eyes already were, Shoko’s eyes were practically the size of dinner plates. You cut her off before she could say anything else. “I’m pregnant. I found out on the trip we took.”

…

“It’s Satoru’s,” it wasn’t a question.

Your silence was enough of an answer.

“You’re plan was to transfer schools because you don’t want to tell him you’re pregnant?” Shoko’s eyes were wide and you looked away from her. “[First], you can’t expect me to not tell him about-”

Your eyes snapped back to look at her, “you can’t tell him about this.”

Shoko shook her head, “this isn’t just your kid-”

“I’m the one who’s pregnant, I’m the one who decides what to do with it! It’s none of his business!”

Shoko probably would have slapped you if you weren’t expecting, “it’s his kid too, of course it’s his business!”

“Fine,” you muttered coldly, fixing your friend with a cold stare. “I’ll tell him if you can tell me you genuinely think it’s going to go well. That you can really Gojou Satoru dropping everything to become a father for a kid he never planned on having with someone he never planned on being with. Mr. Heir of the Gojou Conglomerate Satoru,” you remember his genuine fear and subsequent genuine relief. “Hell, that he won’t think I tried babytrapping him because I asked him recently if he saw what we had going anywhere and he clearly didn’t want that. And even if he doesn't, do you think his parents would be happy with this? Truly?”

Shoko couldn’t say anything.

You shook your head with a humorless huff, “yeah, that’s what I thought too.” You paused to close your eyes and inhale deeply before looking at your friend once more. “I’m not telling him anything. I don’t need his help to raise this baby, I can do this myself.”

Shoko eyes are dark and you knew she was second guessing everything. “[First]-”

“You can’t tell him anything. Not even Suguru, especially not Suguru. He’d tell him right away.” Suguru was your friend, he was a great friend even. But you knew where his loyalties lied. He’d tell Satoru in a heartbeat. “Please,” you pleaded. “I’m asking you as your friend.”

Shoko reached for the pack of cigarettes sticking out of her pocket before dropping her hand to the side. Right, your pregnancy. 

You looked at her in desperation, biting your lip. “Please, I’d never ask you this if it wasn’t important. Satoru doesn’t want me,” your eyes stung at the admission even if you accepted that truth ages ago. “Not the way I want him.”

“I,” Shoko released a shaky breath. “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

You dropped out of school without a word to your friends before the month ended.

v. moon

五条・五月。

Gojou Itsuki; you considered writing that on her birth certificate when she was born. Instead, it was your last name Itsuki received.

五, that was the only part of Satoru you would give her, the ‘five’ in Gojou. You promised that little girl you would love her five times as much for his absence.

vi. flow

That all brought you back to now in the present, Gojou Satoru sitting beside you on a park bench while you daughter looked nervously between you both. “Go on then,” you sweep your hand in the direction of the swings. “I’ll be sitting right here, okay? Have some fun with the other kids.”

Yet like moth to a flame, the man with snowy white hair is all your daughter can focus on. “But who is he?”

Satoru opens parts his lips and you beat him to the introductions, “he’s just an old friend of Mama’s, that’s all. Like Aunt Shoko. We haven’t seen each other in a while and we just want to catch up, that’s all. Right?” You shoot Satoru a pleading look.

“That’s right,” Satoru beams. “Maybe I can push you on the swings later.” That makes Itsuki grin back widely. She looks so much like him that there is no denying who she is to him. You know it and so does he.

The smile drops the moment Itsuki is out of an earshot. “You really never planned to tell me about her,” his eyes that normally remind you of crystal clear seas look more akin to frigid chips of ice as he looks at you. “You stop talking to me, you block me on everything out of nowhere and when you dropped out of school, I had no idea where you were-”

“Satoru, you have to understand,” you start, it sounds weak even to you.

Satoru looks at you with a look of pure offense. You can read his mind clearly, “What is there to understand?”

“This was the best outcome for everyone involved. You, me and Itsuki.”

“That isn’t the kind of thing you decide on your own, it takes two to make a child, [First]!”

“We’re not arguing in front of my daughter, Gojou Satoru.”

“No,” the smile that spreads across Satoru’s face is feral. You’ve seen that smile before, one he had whenever he was on the brink of swinging and starting a fight. Never before had that smile been directed at you. “She’s our daughter. My daughter. And I had to find out from Shoko five years after she’s been born that she ever existed in the first place!”

“Like you wanted to be a father anyway,” you hiss, glancing at the growing concern on Itsuki’s face.

“You didn’t even bother asking me what I wanted,” Satoru snaps back. “I would have helped. I want to help.”

“I didn’t want or need your help then and I sure as hell don’t need it now,” you stand up, swinging your wrist away from the large hand that tries to stop you. “You aren’t even her birth certificate,” Satoru flinches like you shot him. “Not your name, not your birthday, not anything. Itsuki’s never even asked about her father,” a lie. It isn’t nearly so frequent as to be considered a problem, but Itsuki did ask about the whereabouts of her father every so often. “It’s just us, Itsuki, I keep telling you that.”

“Do I have another mommy then?”

“No, it’s just us.”

Still, she asks. But Gojou Satoru didn’t need to know about that. “Just go the hell away and leave us alone. I’m not asking for your help, I’ve been doing this alone so far and I plan to keep it that way.”

You take Itsuki home, telling her not to mind the sad-looking man you left on the bench.

“Before you say anything,” Shoko starts when she answers the phone. “I know you’re pissed off.”

“No shit,” you all but seethe at your closest friend. Itsuki is asleep and it takes all of your willpower to not turn a firm but loud whisper into shrieks of hysteria. “Shoko, what the-”

“[First], I had to tell him,” Shoko sighs and you can practically smell the nicotine through. “I get it, you were scared back then but Satoru deserved to know he is a father. Itsuki deserves a chance to get to know her father!”

“You don’t get to decide what my kid needs,” you retort immediately. “We have been doing just fine without him in our lives and that’s how I wanted to keep it. Now she keeps asking about the man with the white hair and why he looked so sad and-”

“This isn’t one of those situations where you had a surrogate and did this all on your own, [First]. And he isn’t some random stranger you met some campus party years ago, this is a friend! Why on earth would you tell him that you never put him on the birth certificate.”

“Was. He was a friend,” you correct her. You push back the memories of late night study sessions gone awry by Satoru shoving his phone in your face to show you some video in his recommended list. You ignore the creeping reminders of sharing shit-eating grins, waiting for the moment Suguru learned that you changed his autocorrect for chocolate into something stupid. “We haven’t been friends in years, we’re just old school acquaintances at this point. You know why I never told him about her. And I said it so he would have an out; he doesn’t need to stick around to be her father.”

“And what if she gets tired of you skirting around her questions about him?” Shoko shoots back without giving you a moment to reply that you would handle it if it ever got to the point that it became a problem. “You might be able to skirt around it now but when she gets older she is going to ask and ask and askー and she is going to keep on asking before she does research of her own! There was no way you’d be able to keep this a secret for the rest of her life, what were you planning to do then?!”

“… I was going to figure that out by then.”

“Right and that was going to go by so smoothly and Itsuki wouldn’t feel hurt or betrayed you took away the choice for her to get to know her dad. That could ruin your entire relationship with her.”

“You couldn’t have at least asked?!”

“You never let me! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I betrayed your trust and said things behind your back. I told him to at least let me call and tell you that he knew, but he wanted to meet Itsuki.”

“I just…” your back hit the wall and you slid to the floor, resting your head on your knees. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t think I would ever see him again.”

There’s silence when Shoko hesitates to reply to your tired voice, “look, I get it. As much as I can try to get it, anyway.” There is only so much that your child-free doctor of a friend can relate to when it comes to your situation. Things worked out perfectly for her when she fucked a friend, Utahime and Shoko’s names were written in the stars. You only admit your envy on lonely nights when thoughts of university days past make a reappearance.

“Satoru is a lot of things. He’s a clown, he’s insufferable and he’s Gojou Satoru that’s enough trouble as it is,” much to your chagrin, you can’t help snorting at her comment. “But he should have a chance to get to know his daughter. You’re a great mom, you’ve been doing great without him. I’ve seen you handle everything, you even went back to school to get your degree. You’ve got the job, everything. I’m not trying to say you need his help, I just want you to be open to the idea of letting him get to know her.”

You think of Itsuki and her questions and the look of hurt that graced Satoru’s face earlier that afternoon. “I don’t want Itsuki to get attached to him only for him to take off,” but a bitter taste fills your mouth at your words. I’m only using Itsuki as an excuse, you can only admit to yourself. The one who doesn’t want to see her father is me.

Fearful you may have been, it was no excuse to keep her away from her father.

“If he does that, I’ll kill him myself. But he wants to be there,” Shoko promises, her voice the softest its been the entire conversation. “He wants to get to know her. She looks just like him.”

She does.

You grab a baby wipe, rolling your eyes in amusement, “Itsuki, you’re getting syrup all over your face, hold still,” gently, you wipe away the sugary mess on her face before it dries and becomes even stickier. Itsuki always leaves the table looking like she’s been off to war. “You definitely don’t get your messy eating habits from me. Let me clean your hands and the fork too.”

Itsuki’s eyes sparkle curiously, “is Daddy a messy eater?”

You look at your daughter, her white hair pulled into pigtails by pastel knockerballs and her blue eyes that sparkle with hope that you’ll have some sort of answer as to the mystery of her secret parent she doesn’t realize she’s already met. “Yeah,” you whisper softly, the ghost of smile on your lips. “He got pretty messy whenever we ate.”

“Really?”

“Yep, and he would always steal the chips out of my bag whenever he thought I wasn’t looking,” you smile knowingly. He isn’t the only one guilty of such a crime. “Kinda like how someone always takes extra bites out of my pudding cups when she thinks I’m not looking.” Itsuki erupts into giggles as you pinch her cheeks now free of syrup. “You really want to meet your papa, don’t you,” you ask almost weakly, resting your hand on the table.

With a nod of excitement, Itsuki answers your question with an unmistakable yes.

“What if Mommy brings Daddy to pick you up from daycare soon? Would you like that?”

Itsuki gasps in disbelief, “Really?!”

Your nerves don’t show as you grin in return, “really.”

The first few rings you wait for Satoru to pick up the phone later in the day are painful.

I should have just asked Shoko to do this, you pace anxiously in the employee parking lot of your job. A childish part of you wishes you had asked your friend seeing as she had already spilled the beans to you. But you remember the more than subtle tone in her voice when she mentioned the other day that Satoru’s number hadn’t changed in all the years you spent out of his life. He’s the father of your child, [First], you scold yourself. Get a grip.

A second later when he picks up the line, you almost hang up in a panic.

“… Hey, [First],” he sounds like he’s grinning but it lacks his usual bravado. “You didn’t change your number.”

“Neither did you,” you reply nervously, fiddling with the fabric of your uniform as the expected awkward silence filled the air. Five years ago, Satoru was one of the easiest people in the world to talk to. Annoying and arrogant at times, most of the times even, but still easy. He spoke his mind clearly; it’s hard reconciling that person with the silence on the other side of the phone. “I shouldn’t have kept Itsuki from you,” you finally begin. “And I shouldn’t have said what I did yesterday, you have a right to be mad at what I did. I’m sorry.”

Satoru’s sigh is slow, “why didn’t you tell me in all these years? If Shoko never said anything, were you really not going to tell me about her at all?”

“Can we not-”

“No, I get to know why you didn’t want to let me know I had a daughter,” Satoru’s voice hardens and you know that running away isn’t an option. Old habits seem to die hard. “You didn’t even tell me you were pregnant.”

“I was scared, okay?” Scared and pathetically in love with someone who didn’t want you back. “I didn’t know how you were going to react… and I didn’t know if you would want to be part of the baby’s life if I decided to keep it. We weren’t even a couple. I freaked out and thought this was best course of action.”

“I would have helped, I would have been there. We were friends, [First],” you can’t tell if he sounds more angry or sad with your younger self’s line of reasoning. “You really thought I would have let you done everything on your own? I would have had your back from day one.”

“…. I’m sorry, I can’t take it back but I’m sorry,” you rest your back against the side of your car. The breeze on your skin doesn’t calm you as much as you’d like.

Satoru sighs again and he’s quiet, contemplative and your heart races wondering what is going through his mind. Would he curse you? Maybe he would take you to court for his parental rights. Instead, Satoru peacefully asks, “what’s she like?”

“Adorable,” your lips quirk slightly at the thought of your child. “I’m pretty sure Shoko’s probably shown you some pictures, so you probably know that already.” Painfully adorable and the entire world knew it, it’s a blessing she isn’t nearly as much of a troublemaker as her father. If she were, you don’t doubt Itsuki would get away with most of her ‘crimes’. “She’s a sweet girl, if she sees a caterpillar on the neighbor’s strawberries, she’ll pick it up and ask if we can take it to the park so it can eat there instead.”

You both share a laugh at that. “She’s smart too, she just sucks things up like a sponge. And she’s popular at daycare, you know,” she gets it from her father, that is easy to admit. Satoru definitely surpasses everyone you know, yourself included, when it comes to attracting people to him. Even when he’s annoying you can’t help but be drawn in. “She’s good at making friends, always looks out for the ones there who have a harder time connecting with people.”

“It’s nice to know she got all her charm and good looks from me,” Satoru chuckles smugly. “It’s a no-brainer the people love her, I expect nothing less from my kid.”

“Oh shut up,” yet you can’t deny his claim. She is Gojou Satoru’s daughter through and through. “She’s a lovable kid; Itsuki was born for it.”

“Was Itsuki the only name in the running?”

“It’s a pretty name, isn’t it? There were others in the running though,” you count down on your fingers the various options you ultimately decided against. “Itsuki stuck out the best.”

“What characters did you use to write her name?”

“The characters for ‘Five’ and ‘Moon’,” you answer softly, remembering the various combinations you could have gone with. Ultimately, there was only one that you could have gone with. “I got the idea from your last name, I… I wanted her to have a part of you with her even if she didn’t know you.”

There’s a pause then a shaky breath. “Gojou Itsuki,” Satoru says finally, sounding a million miles away despite being just on the other line.

“She has my name,” you tell him gently.

“I know,” Satoru replies softly yet there’s a tinge of emotion you can’t quite place. Melancholy? Acceptance? Perhaps a little bit of both. “I just wanted to try it out.”

Silence falls over you both again and you hug yourself despite the sweltering heat of the afternoon. Shoko is right, your secret wasn’t one that was sustainable. “Do you,” your lips suddenly feel too dry and you lick your lips. “Do you want to pick her up from daycare with me today? She wants to meet you, she always has. She even asked about you this morning.”

He does. It shouldn’t surprise you that he does and it doesn’t. Still, your heart pounds when you see him show up at the daycare your daughter spends a large portion of her time at. “Hi,” you greet him nervously.

“Hey,” even though he’s grinning, his smile is a bit off kilter. A sugary pink bag hangs from one his arms. “I uh, didn’t know exactly what sort of things she like but I got her a present. You said she’s really into whale sharks, right? So I got her a plush.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him Itsuki already has five. She’d love his gift anyway. Maybe the one he got her would become her favorite.

“She might adore that more than you,” you joke but you give him a nod a beat later. “But don’t worry about what happened last time. She’ll be happy to see you in a better mood, she was worried about you when we left the park.” Maybe that was the father-daughter bond at work, or maybe it was your child’s empathetic nature.

Maybe both.

You already discussed things with him after he agreed to come meet her properly. He could get to know Itsuki, could even meet the daycare attendants. It would just be a while before you’d be able to trust him with being an emergency contact.

“Hey, Choso,” you wave at the man with pigtails. Intimidating as he looks, his daycare is surprisingly popular due to the low rates. He wanted a place where his youngest brother could grow up happily with his friends. “This,” you start before Choso can question you, gesturing to Satoru. “… This is Itsuki’s father. You’ll uh, probably see him coming around a lot more when I pick her up from now.”

There’s a lengthy pause.

“Nice to meet you,” Choso’s tone says otherwise. If it were possible, Choso’s face would be place right under the definition of judgement. He is definitely deeming Satoru a deadbeat that was finally crawling out from the woodworks.

Satoru ignores it with the air of confidence he didn’t have a few minutes ago outside, “thanks for looking after my kid while [First] was busy. I haven’t been around but I’m hoping to make up for all the lost time.”

You doubt that was meant to be a dig, you still take it as one. “Itsuki’s playing with Yuuji and the rest of their friends right now. You’ll see her at the playground,” he gestures at the infant in his hands. “I have a diaper to change.”

“Don’t worry, I got it,” you wave. “And tell Kechizu that he needs to stop cooking better than me. The other day Itsuki said she liked his lunches more than mine.” That manages to get a snicker out of the man. 

“Itsuki!” You call out once you’re on the playground and you see her eyes light up with recognition and a ‘Mommy!’ Even funnier is her little excited jig before she runs over to hug you although she stops as she recognizes the man beside you.

She glances between the two of you and you smile reassuringly. “Why are you getting so shy? Don’t you remember what I promised at breakfast?”

Itsuki’s eyes widen and her jaw drops wordlessly. You suppose she might not have truly been expecting you’d make good on your promise. At least, definitely not so soon.

“Itsuki, this is Satoru, your father,” you tell her gently, smile small. “Although I suppose, you already met him yesterday. It just didn’t go at all the way it was supposed to.” But what was done was done; Itsuki deserved to know her father. You wouldn’t take away that choice because of your own fears anymore.

“Daddy?” Itsuki asks Satoru, voice just above a whisper.

Satoru nods, settling down on one knee to look her in those familiar blue eyes. “That’s right, kiddo,”

“Daddy?!” Itsuki hops in disbelief, looking between the two of you before her eyes settle on yours again. “It’s really Daddy?!” You aren’t sure if Itsuki knows whether she wants to cry or run away in disbelief that this moment is finally happening.

You knelt beside your old friend, “say hi to your father, Itsuki.”

The tears suddenly well in her eyes but despite Satoru’s panicked voice, you can tell they aren’t sad ones as Itsuki throws her arms over Satoru’s shoulders. And if your eyes are warmer than they were a few moments ago, you don’t mind it as you watch you’re daughter hug her father for the first time.

Itsuki adores Satoru, that’s what you learn in the span of a single afternoon. And yes, she does love the whale shark plush he got her more than the other five you already purchased. She cried even harder when he hugged her back, softly promising he wasn’t going anywhere. That he’d always be there and he would come see her as much as she wanted.

She adores how he took her out for ice cream before dinner and how even after dinner, he purchased even more dessert. 

He was weak to her with no immunity built up over the past five years.

This was why he couldn’t say no when she pleaded he stayed over to at least watch a movie with her before bedtime. Not that you had any room to talk considering how easily you agreed.

“So she had to get Merlin’d?” Satoru asks incredulously as the credits roll across the screen.

“That is not what was supposed to happen, the beautiful girl is subjective to the one who got cursed!” You tell him, flabbergasted that that was the conclusion he came to. Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarves is far more than a comedy. It’s social commentary! “Not to mention the body positive message it sends with the fact that shoes represent societal standards of beauty along with the objectification and idolization Snow experiences while wearing them which further supported the fact that had she had gone to the F7 as herself they wouldn’t have he-”

“Nope, too late. I like my idea better,” you could strangle this man.

“You’re going to ruin Itsuki’s perception of love,” you shoot Satoru a look of amusement and annoyance. At the very least, you know he enjoyed it.

“Good, I don’t need some snot-nosed brat trying to win over my kid that’s obviously aroace,” Satoru says firmly as he picks up your very much fell-asleep-before-the-movie-ended daughter. It’s almost uncanny how natural it looks to you, like he had been around from the start. He probably should have been. You were the one who took that choice from him and made him an unintentional deadbeat.

“Satoru, she’s five and doesn’t even know what that means yet,” you say instead, Satoru oblivious to the thoughts running around your head. One day you’d tell Itsuki the truth, once she was a little older.

“What? She told me she was aroace when I asked earlier today,” Satoru tells you petulantly, moving away when you try to hold her. 

“Only because you told her you’d give her ice cream if she agreed to be,” ice cream she wasn’t even supposed to eat because it would spoil her appetite for dinner in a moment you weren’t supposed to see. “It means you’ll love Daddy forever and think everyone else is gross,” Satoru happily exclaimed, holding a cup of Itsuki’s favorite salted cookie dough ice cream. The five year old happily obliged to his whims.

Maybe Satoru will be right in his hopeful predictions that romance will be the last thing on your daughter’s mind in the future thought. On the other hand, maybe he’d be dead wrong and forced to tolerate whoever she brings home in the future.

“They’re just like you, Dad, but they’re brilliant!” She’ll say, hearts in her eyes.

You almost wanted to manifest the opposite of his wishes, only to see the face Satoru would make. It is far too early to be thinking about such things however.

“I don’t want my kid to date anyone, sue me. So I’m manifesting early,” Satoru pouts as he starts takes her to her room to lay her across her bed.

“You’re so stupid,” you roll your eyes and shake your head in exasperation, but a look of fondness is apparent in your expression.

Maybe you were born to see this moment, the moment you could see that Gojou Satoru is absolutely smitten with his daughter. You can see it in how he presses a kiss to the temple of her forehead as he takes her to his room.

Itsuki was born to be loved, she makes it too easy just by being herself. Suddenly your fears from before felt unfounded. You knew underneath the rejection of Satoru in your life that he would have been there and he would have been more than happy to shoulder the burdens of parenthood even in a platonic way. You stop yourself from wondering what that path might have looked like. You made your choice and this is path you’re on now, there is no other way but forward.

“I’ll have you know,” Satoru points a finger gun at you smugly when he returns, child-free, “my kid thinks I’m the smartest man in the world. So one of you is lying and I know it’s not her.”

“Your kid is biased and spoiled from snacks and gifts,” you retort softly with a grin.

“I don’t hear the voices of the naysayers praying for my downfall, sorry,” you both release a chuckle at your exchange and a comfortable silence falls between you both. “I should probably get going I guess.”

You smile at him politely, “we should do this again sometime, I wanna see what else in our movie collection Itsuki will have you watch next.”

Satoru grins, “it better be the Digimon reboot DVD set I saw in the corner,” he pauses before asking you seriously, “our kid does like Digimon, right?”

“You’ll be happy to know that her favorites are Palmon, Kokomon and Wormmon in that order,” you tell him smugly. How could he think otherwise? Did he forget who you were? “The plushies are just in the toy chest she has at the foot of her bed.”

Your child had to be a fan of Digimon, she had no other choice.

translation:

五月 five moons (same character in Gojou as well as a radical in Satoru) ⤷ 五 ・ いつ - five ⤷ 月 ・ つき - moon

part 2 ->

[threepoint14art]

Day 2: confession

YAYYY TODDAI YAYYYYYY YAYYYY!

Alright, time to talk about what possessed me to ship them and how I think this confession would play out.

For me, both Mai and Toddy are lonely in their own ways.

Toddy carries the weight of her relationship with Bon—she loved him deeply and genuinely, but it was never reciprocated romantically. Beyond that, she’s his friend, yet she feels out of place among Bon’s other friends, as if he’s almost embarrassed to admit he enjoys her company. She has no deep connections with anyone her age; Bon prefers his “better” friends and even some guy he just met over her. She’s left standing on the outside, alone.

And it’s not like she doesn’t know why. Toddy is blunt to the point of rudeness, struggles with social cues, and lacks tact in conversations. She doesn’t sugarcoat things or bother with fake niceties—either because she doesn’t realize how harsh she sounds or because she refuses to play along with social conventions she sees as meaningless. Some social rules make sense, don't be too loud, don't look sloppy, dont chew with your mouth open. But fakeness? That serves no purpose. In a world that often pushes people like her aside, she holds her ground. She’s independent, skilled, and knowledgeable. Why pretend to like something she doesn’t? Why follow unwritten social rules that seem arbitrary?

Mai, on the other hand, mostly sticks to her family. People don’t really like her, and that’s fine—she doesn’t resent it. She can’t resent much of anything. Her mind is wired for relentless positivity, to the point where she struggles to understand sadness, let alone why some people need to feel it. She’s loud, strange, and exhausting to be around, so most people don’t stick around. They have their real friends, and Mai is just… there.

Like her sibling, Mai believes love is unattainable for her. Not because she’s unworthy, but because she’s missing some fundamental pieces of what makes a person "normal." And that’s okay. She’s just too weird to be loved in that way—it’s not self-deprecation; it’s just a fact. No reason to be sad about it.

Their similarities draw them together. They’re both "too much," both incapable of filtering their words, both struggling with empathy in conventional ways. But instead of clashing, they understand each other. Mai blurts out whatever comes to mind, not to be cruel, but because that’s just how she is. Her response to emotional distress is suffocating positivity because that’s all she knows. Toddy doesn’t bother with fake pleasantries or polite omissions—why would she? To her, honesty is the only thing that matters. The very things that alienate them from others become a shared language between them.

They’d start as friends—close friends—confusing everyone around them. After all, Toddy is someone who is all caught up on looking "good" and "proper", while Mai is the weirdest kid in school. By all logic, their relationship should be antagonistic

But then there’s Mai, showing up at odd hours, pestering Toddy late at night just because she can. Toddy, exasperated, telling her to dress warmer because it’s freezing. Mai ignoring her, dragging her along to one of her favorite spots—a quiet place where the stars shine brighter than anywhere else.

And there, under the vast sky, she confesses. No theatrics, no layers of mystery, no grand gesture. Just simple words, because that’s how Toddy likes things.

And Toddy says yes. Loudly. Immediately. Throwing herself into a hug, because that’s how Mai likes things.

[theshadowrealmitself]

So small tiktok drama that happened this past week for anyone who’s nosey but doesn’t have the app

So apparently a few small business bakers are upset at the cheap Walmart heart cakes (not sure the # of bakers, but I saw at least 3, also not sure of the price of the Walmart cakes, everyone keeps saying different prices but it sounds like $5-$25) and are upset at people buying them instead of going to small bakeries, and this has sparked outrage in some people for a few reasons:

• the classism, idk if it was every baker who complained about this, but a couple of them definitely got really classist with it and were pretty much like “if you can’t afford the bakery prices then you shouldn’t have a cake ever” (I’m probably not explaining it well, but they were v snooty with it)

• a lot of people have been feeling like bakeries have been getting unreasonably expensive, as well as other businesses like salons, and they’re getting sick of it

(I’m too broke to go to a lot of those places so I don’t even know what the actual prices are, so I don’t have anything substantial to say on that topic, like I wanna say those businesses are just trying to stay on top of inflation and make sure they’re properly paid for their work, but based on what I’ve heard from other people, it does sound like the pricing is getting unreasonable, especially for hair stylists that are offering less and less but charging more and more)

• on that note, I did see people say that they didn’t have a problem with stuff being priced like that, but they think those business owners should realize that they’re shrinking their clientele because people really can’t afford extra expenses and they can’t get mad at people for not going to them anymore, kinda loops back into those who were mad at the classism

• some people find small bakeries shady and uncomfortable to go in because I guess a lot of them don’t have visible pricing anywhere so it makes them feel like the bakery is trying to see how much they can squeeze out of them

• other people don’t find bakeries worth it at all because in their experience, a lot of those places have an emphasis on making cakes that are picture-worthy with a lot of fondant that just doesn’t make it taste good and they prefer taste over presentation

There were probably other viewpoints that I forgot, but I just thought it was really interesting, like we do talk about supporting small businesses over chains and can everyone afford to do so a lot, but there was some interesting stuff I hadn’t seen mentioned before (like bakeries not having price clarity and the undervaluing of bakers who work in grocery stores)

Weirdly enough, I didn’t see anyone mention that with the rising egg prices, even buying boxed cake mix and doing it yourself is out of some people’s price range now (there still could’ve been people mentioning it, I just didn’t see it myself) (I know I have a box of brownie mix I haven’t touched because of egg prices and because of my anxiety with getting bird flu. my luck is horrible, I just know the second I trust an egg I’m getting it)

[urauntiefaye]

&team mtl get jealous easily!

&Team Most to Least Likely Get Jealous Easily🌸

WC:545  

TW: Jealous &Team, nothing really big tbh 

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to reply, I hope you like it <3

Most 

Yuma: Yuma honestly gives off vibes of being pretty ‘territorial’ of the people in his life. Like once he opens up and lets someone in, they're not going anywhere so if he feels a sudden threat to it he will act on it. 

Harua: Harua just seems like the jealous type to him, very much a “what’s his is his” kind of person. Will literally act up and get petty over someone just as much talking to you because he needs your attention on him at all times. 

Taki: Taki is also pretty jealous, I remember in one video he said he got upset seeing Kei squishing the other members cheeks. He won’t necessarily be upfront about it but there are signs because he will pout and look sad the entire time you’re hanging out or talking to someone else. 

Euijoo: Euijoo gives me silent jealousy, like he is also just as jealous as the other three but it’s not as intense, simply because he knows how to hide it very well. It won’t be until afterwards he’s clinging to you and telling you how much he loves you in hopes you don’t leave him. But also will eventually talk to you about it. 

Jo: Jo is similar to Euijoo to me, like practically the same when it comes to this. The only difference is that he’s practically a rock in these moments, not because he knows how to hide it but because he’s worried if he does you’ll be put off. He won’t even bring it up to you, so you’ll eventually have to ask him if you have any suspensions 

Nicholas: Nicholas seems very confident and secure in himself, and it most likely does too in your relationship. So I don’t see him getting that jealous because his thoughts are always about how he knows he can treat you better and shit. However even though he’s not the jealous type he is the protective type and if he sees things escalating he will step in.

Maki: Maki honestly seems way too chill to be the jealous type in my opinion, similar to Nicholas I also think he’s pretty secure with himself and you so he knows nothing will happen. But that doesn’t mean he won’t punch a guy for touching your ass because you’re his <3. Also I feel like he just gets more flabbergasted than anything when it comes to guys trying to flirt with you because he’s literally right there. 

Kei: Kei comes across as pretty mature, not saying mature people can’t get jealous but I feel like he’s just more of a rational thinker ya know?. He’ll be pretty calm and will talk it out with you, but like Nicholas and Maki he will step in if things get too much and you can’t handle it. 

Fuma: I’mma be honest Fuma just doesn’t seem like the jealous type to me at all. He’s secured in himself and you, is a rational thinker, will talk it out with you, and knows you won’t ever leave him because why on earth would you. If you ever go up to him and say you have another guy he’d start laughing because he knows it’s a stupid prank you’re trying to pull 

Least

[odileeclipse]

Pure Vanilla X Reader Part 2

A/N this is a part 2 because of the word limit TWT

 Before I could say anything else Gingerbrave came back happily with pure vanilla gracefully on his tail. “Ah…It’s so good to see old friends, I hope you all have done well without my presence, though I do miss the banter between us” he said chuckling his voice as smooth as buttercream. Gingerbrave quickly nodded “Yeah and I’d like for you to meet our friend (y/n) cookie shes also a healer just like you” he said with enthusiasm. “O-Oh well I wouldn’t say I’m a healer more like I just know a little about plants” you said bashfully. Pure vanilla turned towards you “It’s so good to meet a fellow healer, we do the best for cookiekind, us healers right?” His voice was kind and compassionate. “O-Oh yeah it’s- of course yeah” you berated yourself as your collected demeanor melted before him. “So uh you come here often?” you could practically hear the witches laugh at your foolish question. Pure vanilla chuckled “Well I don’t see myself going anywhere but here at the moment, I’ve made a promise to these cookies and cookiekind” you simply nodded feeling your nerves rush. Strawberry cookie feeling the awkwardness and embarrassment in the air couldn’t stand to watch anymore pulling the drawstrings of her pink hoodie. Gingerbrave ever so oblivious “Well this was fun! Pure vanilla, (y/n) cookie, we’re off to new adventures I was just so excited to see the vanilla kingdom again” Wizard cookie, and strawberry cookie wanting to leave the awkward didn’t object and left quickly. “And then there were two” you simply nodded. “So a healer? How come we haven’t met?” You paused for a moment before saying “Well like I said…I’m not really a healer I simply made simple mixtures with plants to alleviate simple sickness…it’s basic stuff really” Pure vanilla hummed in response. “Well you seem to have a knack for it to have Gingerbrave sing your praises…Why don’t I teach you the more the merrier” he said with such kindness you couldn't say no nor did you really want to. The fuzzy feeling in your soul jam only grew in elation, you knew he did this out of kindness. True altruism but you couldn’t help but wish for more. “I’d love to” your voice came out as more a whisper which Pure Vanilla took as uncertainty. “Just give it a shot your worries will become mine if you stare me down like that” You hadn’t noticed your brow was furrowed and quickly relaxed your features. “Ah yeah, I’m so…at  a loss of words I won’t let you down” he simply smiled at you “I know”

pt 3 is linked here

[anamericangirl]

The welfare pause - yeah I don’t understand how this is unconstitutional in the first place so you’ll have to explain. There’s no clause in the constitution that says the federal government must provide financial aid to individual citizens so there’s actually an argument to be made that doing so in the first place is unconstitutional.

Dismantling the department of education - yes please explain how this is a constitutional violation I don’t understand why it’s unconstitutional in the first place. There’s no clause in the constitution that protects the department of education from being dismantled.

Repealing birthright citizenship - mmmm this one’s a little tricky because there’s an argument to be made both ways. A phrase often overlooked in this amendment is “subject to the jurisdiction thereof” which has historically been legally interpreted to mean someone who owes their allegiance to the United States and no other country and not merely currently located in the jurisdiction and subject to its laws so it already doesn’t apply to each person who steps foot into the country and then has a baby. So repealing it for people coming into the country illegally isn’t necessarily a constitutional violation since we can plainly see they do not owe their allegiance to the US alone. This is the only thing on your list you could even potentially have an argument for but even then there’s legitimate questions to be raised.

Stopping the production of pennies - how is this a constitutional violation? The constitution doesn’t protect penny production.

The creation of a faith office - this isn’t a violation of the constitution. The words separation of church and state do not appear anywhere in the constitution. The stated purposes of this office is to protect religious freedom which many feel have been under attack lately. He can’t establish a national religion but there’s nothing in the constitution that says the President can’t create a department to protect religious liberty, which is actually protected by the constitution.

Arbitrarily withholding disaster relief funding - again, this is not necessarily unconstitutional. There’s been lots of debate about it and will be more but impounding funds is not really unconstitutional if done the appropriate way. This is not the first time a President has impounded funds. Thomas Jefferson was. And Congress created the Impoundment Control Act of 1974 which allows for the President to withhold funds as long as certain protocols are followed. So there’s a debate to be had here as well.

You’re just stating acts without explaining where the constitutional violation comes in. Like do you think the thing itself is a violation or the way Trump is doing it? Because either way in most, if not all these cases, you’re objectively wrong.

All you have proved here is that my theory was correct: you’ve never read the constitution.

What's your opinion on Trump commiting half a dozen constitutional violations in his first 3 weeks?

Can you explain exactly what these constitutional violations were? Because I’m sure you’ve never read the constitution and your understanding of the document is….questionable, to put it nicely.

[ladymdc]

I hate complaining or feeling like I’m fishing for sympathy or whatever— but it’s been nice seeing fic authors push back some against everything. Between the entitlement, “content creator” mindset, fandom hostility, & AI nonsense, I’ve been feeling really discouraged & it makes me feel less alone in it. I love writing, but it’s getting to the point I don’t love sharing it & for me, that’s part of it all :/

[elizabethzoopzoop986]

I miss Mei so much you don’t understand :( bring her back AidaIro. Also Yako and Hakubo

I hate how the school mysteries (other than Hanako, Mitsuba and Akane) get there one arc where you really get to know them and care about them and then they just go away forever. GIVE THEM BACK PLS AIDAIRO LET THEM OUT OF THE CLOSET THEYVE DONE NOTHING WRONG

[simplifiedemotions]

I think 2025 is the year I pull away from social media almost completely. I enjoyed it for the last few years, made some great friends and entrenched new memories I’m deeply grateful for, but I’ve also lost any and all confidence in myself. Uncertainty and embarrassment follows almost every sentence I type, and although I can’t place exactly where this heavy feeling started, I do know that it’s not something I can bear with peace. I’ve tried to work through this largely unexplainable shame, but maybe it’s for the best that I stop trying to force things that aren’t working for me. A lot of people know how to make lights shine. They purchase settings where they can make them multicoloured, and cast them so bright you can see them from space… but I think all I wanted was the light of a tiny lamp. And right now, the bulb is nearly dead.