#‘sir you can’t abuse your dad rights not like that—‘

[j-k-writes]

Doomsday

Summary - (Y/N) just wants to spend his senior year with his head kept down and his best friend at his side. But like always, his wants mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, and not even a week into his second to last semester things come crashing down.

Warnings - General Gen V warnings, heavy drug use, blood and violence, child abuse (mostly just implied and discussed nothing graphic), canon character death(s), suicide, murder

12 Years Ago 

His joints screamed at him as he scaled his way up the side of the house, his cut-up hands leaving behind crimson stains on the light brick as he went. He’d slipped halfway up; the resulting near-fall had left his left knee skinned and his jeans ruined, but he just ignored it and continued to climb. He was out of breath by the time he managed to crawl the already open window of his best friend’s room, and he’d been crying since his back door slammed behind him on his way out of the house, leaving him a panting, sobbing mess. 

He didn’t bother turning around before he began his rant, wiping harshly at the tears rolling down his cheeks, “I can’t live with them anymore- they’re- they’re the worst! My dad threw a bible at-” 

He turned around and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a stranger standing in Luke’s room, the boy himself nowhere to be found. His hackles were immediately raised at the sight of the man. Especially because he could feel the all too familiar tingle under his skin that meant his skinned knee was knitting itself back together, he took note that it started quicker this time and pinned the observation away for later. 

The man raised an eyebrow at him, smiling softly to himself as he took in (Y/N)’s appearance. “Hello.” 

“Where’s Luke?” (Y/N) frowned, and the man laughed, which only caused (Y/N)’s frown to deepen. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear, (Y/N) thought as Luke burst into the room. Whatever the pre-teen was about to say died on the tip of his tongue at (Y/N)’s appearance, and his face flushed with anger or embarrassment; (Y/N) couldn’t tell. 

“Again?” Ah, anger then. (Y/N) nodded, looking down at the floor. “What happened this time?” 

(Y/N) shrugged, “‘s not that big of a deal. I can come back later.” 

Luke shook his head, pushing past the mysterious man, “And go back?” 

Again (Y/N) shrugged. 

“I’ll ask my parents if you can stay over,” Luke said, lowering his voice as if he just remembered they were in the presence of company. “You know if you just let me tell them they could-” 

“No.” Luke just sighed at his friend’s stubbornness, turning around- probably to go find his parents- and stopped at the sight of the man. “Oh. Sorry, (Y/N), this is Professor Brink.” 

“Nice to meet you.” (Y/N) said before his father’s nagging voice entered his head, and he added a “Sir.” 

Professor Brink looked amused at the boy and turned to Luke. “Do you mind if I talk to- (Y/N) was it?” (Y/N) nodded, and Brink smiled. “Do you mind if I talked to (Y/N) for a moment, Luke?” 

“Uh- yeah sure.” Luke made a hasty exit leaving (Y/N) alone with the strange professor. Brink motioned for him to sit and after a few seconds of deliberation, (Y/N) took a seat on the edge of Luke’s bed, eyeing the man up warily. 

“You’re a supe.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.” 

“What can you do?” 

“What’s it matter to you?” (Y/N) snapped, clenching his fists at his side. He tensed as soon as the words escaped his mouth, but the man simply laughed. 

“I’m a professor at Godolkin University.” Brink said. “Do you know what that is?” 

“I’m not dumb.” Again the man laughed. 

“I never said you were, in fact, I can tell you’re quite bright. Am I right?” (Y/N) just shrugged. “How long have you had your powers, (Y/N)?” 

“A couple months” 

“And how old are you?” 

“Nine.” 

“Same age as Luke then.” (Y/N) nodded, and Brink seemed pleased with his answer. “I am going to tell you why I’m here, and then after you’re going to tell me why you are. Got it?” 

“Fine.” 

“I’m here because your friend Luke is going to be bigger than Homelander,” Brink said, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the statement. His Luke, his Luke who couldn’t sit on furniture for too long unless you preferred your chairs charred and blackened, bigger than Homelander? No shot. “Now, you haven’t told me what you can do yet, kid, but based on the little show I just got-” (Y/N) flushed. “-I can take a pretty good guess.” 

“It’s nothing special.” (Y/N) mumbled, Brink’s gaze made him squirm in his seat. “I can just heal, and they- they uh say I’m pretty smart, but I don’t know- it’s lame.” 

“Nonsense,” Brink said, and (Y/N) took a proper look at the man for the first time since climbing in through the window. “Luke has told me a lot about you, (Y/N).” 

“He has?” 

“Oh yes.” Brink’s smile widened. “In fact I think you two can become quite the team. What do you think?” 

Present Day

(Y/N) jolted upright as the ice-cold water came crashing down on him, the momentum of his body causing him to tumble out of bed, hitting the floor with a loud crash. He groaned as his face smashed into the floor, feeling the bones of his nose crack and reset just as quickly as the man above him laughed. 

“What do you want?” (Y/N) said, picking himself off the floor. He stripped, throwing the now wet clothes across the room. 

“I have training.” 

“Exactly-” (Y/N) said as he pulled a fresh shirt over his head. “-you have training.” 

“You said you’d come watch.” Luke picked a pair of jeans off the floor and tossed them at him. 

(Y/N) laughed at the pout on his friend’s face, catching the jeans easily and sliding them on. “When?” 

“A few days ago?” Luke said, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” 

(Y/N) shrugged, picking a hoodie up off the ground, and Luke only frowned. He watched as Luke walked over to his desk, taking a look at the clutter of substances from the night before that (Y/N) had no doubt forgotten to put away before crashing into bed. Luke ran his finger in a line down the desk, and when he pulled away, his fingertip was dusted white. 

“As if you’re one to talk, Riordan.” (Y/N) snapped, hackles rising before Luke could even open his mouth to speak. 

“Hey, I didn’t say anything.” Luke brushed his finger off, walking over toward (Y/N). He grabbed (Y/N)'s face, forcing the young adult to look him in the eyes as he spoke. His eyes flicked up and down (Y/N)'s face as if studying him and (Y/N) couldn’t help but flush under his gaze. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

Luke’s grip tightened, “Don’t lie to me.” 

“Just some bad dream ‘s all.” (Y/N) said, and Luke relaxed. “Now come on, we’re gonna be late.” 

“And whose fault is that?” Luke laughed, swinging his arm over (Y/N)'s shoulders and pulling him in close as they exited the room. 

(Y/N) put his hood up, drawing the strings tight as soon as they stepped outside. He was vaguely aware of Luke’s snide comment about his reclusive nature, but the loud sound of the people around them drowned him out. (Y/N) cringed and stepped away as people came up to take selfies and chat with Luke, but Luke held on tight to his shoulders the entire walk to the gym as if he was scared (Y/N) was going to disappear if he let go for even a second. (Y/N) wanted to smile at the gesture, but the tight grip on his shoulder began to hurt the further they walked. When (Y/N) lit a cigarette, and Luke didn’t pause once to make a sarcastic comment about his self-healing lungs, (Y/N) stopped in his tracks. 

“What’s wrong?” Luke looked startled by (Y/N)'s question, taking in their surroundings before speaking. 

“Nothing.” (Y/N) scoffed, and Luke immediately crumbled. “Just a nightmare. I’ll tell you later.” 

(Y/N)'s brows furrowed, but he accepted the explanation in stride. Mimicking Luke’s gesture from earlier (Y/N) wrapped his arm around Luke’s neck, smiling to himself when it forced a laugh from the brunette's mouth. They walked the rest of the way like that, arms thrown over each other and laughing. 

(Y/N)'s smile fell as they entered the gym, and Luke adjusted his stance to cover his friend from the prying eyes of their audience. 

“Just ignore them,” Luke whispered, moving closer to (Y/N) to be heard over the crowd. And (Y/N) stepped out from under his arm when he felt Luke’s lip graze his ear. Luke frowned at the action, chalking up (Y/N)'s sudden nervousness to the crowd around them, “Hey, they’re just a little rowdy. Nothing to worry about.” 

“I’m fine.” (Y/N) gave him his best attempt at a smile. “They’re just loud and I’m hungover.” 

(Y/N) couldn't tell if Luke believed him as his best friend’s eyes fell on a figure behind him and his face lit up. (Y/N) turned to see what Luke was looking at, and as soon as his eyes fell on the blonde he froze. 

Luke made his way over to Cate, grinning from ear to ear, and (Y/N) took a step back, hoping to fade into the crowd surrounding them. He wrinkled his nose as the two kissed, a bit too obscene for PDA, in (Y/N)'s opinion, but before he could voice his thoughts on it, he felt an arm make its way around his shoulder, and he jumped. 

Andre laughed at (Y/N)'s reaction, causing (Y/N) to shove him off. “Dickhead.” 

“Shocked to see you here,” Andre said, “I was betting on you bailing.” 

“Didn’t even get the chance.” (Y/N) sighed, and Andre laughed. 

“Alright tongue in your head, head in the game. Yes, you.” Andre approached Luke and Cate, who were still swapping spit. “Thank you, and thank you.” 

“Uh, dude, I am not sweating The Incredible Steve.” Luke said as he approached Andre and (Y/N), throwing his arms around both of them. “Or anyone that has ‘The’ in their name.” 

“I hope not. I got ten grand on you.” Andre said, and (Y/N) snorted softly. 

“Alright, well, we’ll split it fifty-fifty, huh?” Luke said. “Or else I throw the match.” 

Andre froze, before laughing when he realized Luke was joking. “Fuck you. Asshole. Kick his ass.” 

“Loveable asshole.” Luke said as he approached the man waiting for him on the other side of the mat, and Andre and (Y/N) took a step back. 

(Y/N) tried to pay attention to the fight, but the noise of the crowd, the brightness of the sun, and Andre’s odd glances in his direction distracted him throughout. He spent most of the fight squinting at the ground and feeling the beginnings of a migraine. A robe was thrust into his hands as the crowd began to chant his best friend’s name, and (Y/N) finally looked up. 

Luke walked over to them, completely starker, and (Y/N) practically threw the robe at him. He got a small thank you for his troubles before Luke and Andre walked toward where Steve was laid out on the ground sans arms. Luke and Andre reattached Steve’s arms before helping him up. With a pat on the shoulder, Luke sent the man on his way and made his way back over to where (Y/N) was standing with Cate. 

“Lunch?”

(Y/N) hummed, rolling over in search of the sudden warmth that filled his bed. He wrapped his arms around the body, smiling softly to himself at the laugh he felt vibrating through their body. It took him about fifty seconds to remember that he went to bed alone last night and that there shouldn’t be another person in his bed, and when his brain processed the thought, he shot upright. 

His face burned as Luke doubled over, laughing at (Y/N)'s flustered sputtering. 

“I didn’t know you were a cuddler,” Luke said, and (Y/N) flopped back down on his bed with a groan. He grabbed the covers to cover his face, but Luke caught the other end. (Y/N) tugged at his end, but Luke simply tugged once and (Y/N)’s grip broke. 

“Fuck off.” (Y/N) turned over, hiding his face in his pillow. 

“Come on,” Luke threw himself over (Y/N), who grunted at the new weight on top of him. “I have something to tell you.” 

“Tell me then.” (Y/N) said, his words muffled by his pillow. “But ‘m not moving.” 

Luke laughed, his breath hitting (Y/N)’s ear and causing gooseflesh to run down his neck. “If you weren’t so lazy you could have beaten me out of my number one spot years ago.” 

“‘M not lazy.” (Y/N) said, “And I doubt that.” 

“Well,” (Y/N) could feel his smile against his neck as Luke spoke. “It’s a good thing you didn’t.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Because you’re about to be best friends with a member of The Seven.” 

At that, (Y/N) turned over, confused. Luke adjusted his position on top of (Y/N) as the boy turned over onto his back, falling off to lie next to him, his head propped up on his hand. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Luke just continued to smile at (Y/N), and slowly but surely, the pieces began to connect in the boy’s mind. “You’re going to The Seven?” 

Luke nodded. 

“When?” 

“Straight after graduation.” 

“Holy shit.” 

“I know.” 

“Holy shit, congrats.” (Y/N) threw himself at Luke, wrapping him up in a tight hug and causing his best friend to laugh. He pulled back, “That’s amazing, I mean, this is everything you’ve ever wanted.”

At that, Luke’s smile dimmed. Just for a second before it was back in full force, and Luke agreed with him, but it was enough for (Y/N) to notice and frown. Luke noticed his frown and paused, “What?” 

“You’re not happy.” (Y/N) said. 

Luke froze, “What? Of course I’m happy. Like you said, this is everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

“Yeah, but-” (Y/N) paused, he took in Luke’s agitated stance and decided against finishing his thought. He had months to pick apart Luke’s insecurities and inner workings before he was fully committed to The Seven, so he put the conversation in the back of his mind for another day. “Never mind, I’m being stupid. Do the others know?” 

“No.” Luke smiled again. “Just you, me, and Brink.” 

“When are you going to tell them?” 

Luke shrugged, “I don’t know yet. Probably tonight- we’re going out, and you’re coming, by the way.” (Y/N) groaned at the idea, and Luke lightly swatted his shoulder. “I mean it, no excuses this time.” 

“I have work from Brink.” (Y/N) started, and Luke scoffed. “I mean it! I do!” 

“Well, finish it quick,” Luke said, rolling over and off the bed. “You’re coming out with us tonight, no matter what.” 

(Y/N) opened his mouth to argue again, but Luke cut him off. “I never see you anymore man. I miss you.” 

Like a house of cards, (Y/N) immediately folded at Luke’s words. He nodded, already planning his day in his head so that he could finish Brink’s assignment before leaving for the night, and the way Luke’s face lit up as he exited the room made the extra stress worth it.

(Y/N) groaned as the wind blew his lighter out again, and he huddled further in on himself, cupping the flame as he desperately tried to get his cigarette lit. Two new hands cupped the flame, and (Y/N) looked up, making eye contact with Jordan. He gave them a nod of thanks when the flame caught on the end of his cigarette. Jordan walked away from him after that, back to where Andre was talking about some freshman he’d invited to come out with them. 

(Y/N) had learned to tune the metal-controlling boy out within weeks of meeting him, so his words were going in one ear and out the other. (Y/N) didn’t care much about what poor girl Andre was trying to pick up this time, he didn’t care much about any of the people Andre, Jordan, or Cate brought along with them, in fact. He was only here for Luke. 

He watched the four supes pass the flask back and forth, laughing to themselves as they did. These were Luke’s friends, not his. They were on the same path as Luke, on their way to being big shot supes for Vought. (Y/N) was on his way to an early death or spending the rest of his life as a recluse on the edge of society, either one was fine with him. There was no love lost between him and Vought. He was content with being Luke’s childhood best friend who got dragged along because he knew realistically, one day soon, he wouldn’t even be that. 

“Oh! Told you.” The sound of Andre’s voice (Y/N) diverted his full attention to the people around him. “This is Marie. She’s the one that I was telling you guys about.” 

“Hey. I’m Luke.” Luke approached the girl. “Uh, this is Cate.” 

“I know who you are.” (Y/N) almost laughed at the starstruck look on the girl’s face. Her eyes drifted from Luke to Cate and then shockingly to (Y/N). “I know every- nice to meet you.” 

“Uh, that’s (Y/N),” Luke pointed to him, and he gave Marie a nod of acknowledgment. “And that’s Jordan.” 

“Yeah, we’ve met.” 

“You gonna reject me from this outing, too?” Marie said, and at that, (Y/N) did laugh. 

“I’d love to.” Jordan snapped, but Andre stepped in between the two of them. 

“No, play nice.” Andre said. “Or I will not share my drugs with you.” 

Andre opened the door of Luke’s car for Cate, and (Y/N) finally moved from his spot in the darkness to approach the group. 

“Come on, we’ll take my car,” Luke said to Marie, and as soon as (Y/N) was in touching distance, he reached over and grabbed him. “You’re with me too.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, “Obviously.” 

Luke just smiled at him, pushing him toward the car before opening the driver-side door to get in. (Y/N) didn’t bother with the seat belt as Luke drove off but was pleasantly amused that Marie had. He opened the window, lighting up another cigarette. 

“Put that shit out,” Luke called from the driver's seat, and (Y/N) simply took a drag blowing it in Luke’s direction with a smug smile. Marie eyed the two carefully, but Luke just laughed off (Y/N)'s action. “Not everyone’s lungs can heal on demand, (Y/N).” 

“Pity.” 

Marie was quiet throughout the drive, only speaking when directly spoken to. (Y/N) almost pitied the poor girl, and he hoped he was wrong about Andre’s intentions with her. She was too quiet and innocent by the way her eyes widened when (Y/N) broke out a baggy of white powder to just be another notch on Andre’s bedpost. 

When they pulled onto the block where Seven Tower stood tall, (Y/N) caught Luke’s eye through the rearview mirror. Luke shrugged, smiling, and (Y/N) just shook his head. If (Y/N) thought Marie was starstruck before, it was nothing compared to the look in the girl’s eyes as they climbed up to the roof of the tower. 

“Holy shit.” She said under her breath, and (Y/N) let out a soft laugh. 

“It’s something alright.” (Y/N) said, and Marie was startled, as if she’d forgotten he was there. She gave him a small smile and a nod, walking to the set of stairs that led to a small elevated platform near the ledge. 

(Y/N) let her walk off, making his way over to where Andre had started taking bottles and baggies out of his bag. (Y/N) watched as Luke spotted Marie and left the group to walk in her direction. He frowned to himself, but his attention was quickly caught by the bottle being shoved into his hands by Andre. 

“I can’t believe you’re here, dude,” Andre said as (Y/N) tipped the bottle back, gagging slightly as he did so. Andre slung his arm over (Y/N)'s shoulder, making the bottle spill slightly on Jordan, who was standing next to him. “I bet Jordan a hundred bucks that you would make up an excuse not to come.” 

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at Jordan who just laughed, “I did not take the bet.” 

“I tried.” (Y/N) said, passing the bottle to Cate. “Luke wouldn’t have it.” 

“Thank god for that.” Andre shoved a bagging into his hand. 

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur to (Y/N) between the booze and the drugs. There were times in his life when he was grateful for the Compound V flowing through his veins, and every single time was when he’d consumed enough substances to kill an average human. 

He doesn’t remember how they got to the club, and he vaguely remembers Cate pushing the bouncer into letting them in with no questions asked. His memory kicked back in as soon as Luke got him to take a seat on the mysteriously sticky club chairs. (Y/N) gave a grateful hum as his ass hit the leather, sinking in and letting his head fall back against the back of the chair. 

“You guys in?” Andre asked, waving around yet another baggy. 

“Is that cocaine?” Marie said, and once again the word innocent popped up in (Y/N)'s mind. 

“(Y/N) finished all the coke-” (Y/N) smacked them on the arm. “It’s Molly.” 

“Hey, I don’t really fuck with powders.” Luke said, leaning in close to Marie. “ “But I do microdose shrooms.” 

“So what do you say freshman?” 

“Um.” Marie gave an awkward laugh. “No thank you.” 

“You know I could take my glove off and make you.” Cate said, “I won’t. Cause I’m all about consent. But I could, so you should.” 

(Y/N) thought he made a comment at Cate’s statement, but he couldn’t remember if it was in his head or if he managed to say it out loud. It didn’t matter as Marie nervously licked her finger and stuck it in the open bag, taking the drugs to the delight of the young adults around her. Before Marie could process what happened, Cate dragged her away to dance. 

“I told you.” Andre said. 

“Yeah. She’s cool.” Jordan smiled, and (Y/N) gave a hum. 

“She’s innocent.” He said, and all eyes turned to him as if they’d forgotten he was there. 

“She’s just a freshman.” Luke said. “We were innocent once.” 

(Y/N) gave a noncommittal shrug, and Luke frowned at the motion. Jordan stood up, giving them all an excuse about getting drinks, and (Y/N) let himself fall back into his hazy bliss.

Andre and Luke continued to talk around him. (Y/N) was included in this conversation, but he doesn't remember if he said anything, and if he did, he doesn't remember what. He remembers Luke telling Andre about his upcoming move into Seven Tower, and he remembers Andre practically tackling Luke off the seats in excitement. 

“There she is,” Luke said as Jordan sat back down, and (Y/N) opened his eyes, taking in Jordan’s new appearance. 

“You changed. Why?” 

“Cause I fucking felt like it.” Jordan said, and (Y/N) whispered a small “Good for you’” that Jordan chuckled at. “Also free drinks.” 

“True. Cheers.” 

“To the Seven.” Andre said, and Jordan’s eyebrow furrowed in confusion before it clicked in their head. “Fucking Seven.” 

“Quiet down. I just told you.” Luke tapped his glass against Andre’s anyway. 

“You gotta invite me to the Tower.” Andre said, leaning back into the leather. “Cause I crush hard on A-train. A speedster in bed?” 

“Making a mental note right now to never invite you.” 

“It is the least surprising surprise ever, but congrats. When do you start?” 

“You mean when do I leave so you can finally be ranked number one?” Luke joked, but Jordan just scoffed. 

“Please. That’d be great but the trustees think I’m too confusing. No way I’ll be number one.” They said, bitterness lacing their tone like venom. 

“The trustees put you in the orientation video.” (Y/N) rolled his eyes at Andre’s statement. 

“Yeah, so they could suck their own dicks about how progressive they are.” 

“Okay, well Brink does carry a lot of weight with them and he loves you.” Luke tried to reassure them. “I mean you’re like his favorite son/daughter. I think you got a shot.” 

“You’re thinking of (Y/N),” Jordan said, pointing at the man in question as they did so. “His actual son.” 

“Adopted.” (Y/N) mumbled, unsure if his voice was carrying across the table with all the noise around them. 

“Still, if he’s gonna make anyone number one it’ll be you.” (Y/N) made a face at the statement which got him a few laughs from the people around him. 

“(Y/N) will have to be sober for more than three hours if he wants to be number one.” Andre said, and (Y/N) just flipped him the bird. “Plus he’ll have to actually start attending his combat classes.” 

“Fuck combat.” (Y/N) said, and Andre simply pointed at him as if to say ‘See I told you so.’ 

“Still, it’ll be either (Y/N) or Andre, as much as that pisses me off.” Jordan shrugged, and (Y/N) could see that it bothered them more than they were letting on. In a more stable state, and if it wasn’t Jordan Li, he might have tried to offer words of assurance. But as it was, he was losing his battle with the fog that was threatening to overtake him completely at any second, and he really only tried to use his words with Luke. 

“That- that responsibility and having to work with my dad.” Andre shivered. “Fuck that. That’s all you. I will cheer you on as I continue to suck and fuck my little heart out.” 

(Y/N) hummed in agreement, an all too familiar blackness softening the edges of his vision. 

“But you, you worked your fucking ass of for this. And I’m proud of you.” Andre said to Luke. “I love you man.” 

“Love you.” 

Andre left them after that, someone catching his eye from across the room, and (Y/N) let himself fade further into the fog. He vaguely registered Luke talking to him, but he doesn’t remember what about or if he even managed a response. At some point, Jordan had relaxed into his side, mumbling something nonsensical into his ear. But the next thing he truly remembers is being hauled off the couch urgently, the sound of screams echoing around him. 

The incident itself is blurry, overshadowed by the screaming and sudden dizziness that came with being hauled to his feet way too fast. He remembers people calling out his name for help, and Jordan telling them- 

“No way. He’s too high to try and do something. He’ll just make it worse.” 

And he remembers watching Marie kneel to the ground, hand outstretched towards a girl lying on the floor bloody. There’s cheers and murmurs as she stands up, outfit ruined by blood, and the group of them rush out of the club into the chilled air. 

After that it all goes black.

He coughed, chest twinging in pain, as the alarm went off. He threw back five painkillers and kept the lights off as he dressed. As he gathered his papers for Brink, throwing them haphazardly into his bag, he decided two things- 

One: He was never blindly agreeing to anything Luke asked him ever again. 

Two: He was going to kill Luke’s friends, Luke, and then possibly himself if his head didn’t stop pounding by the time he walked over to Brink’s office. 

He’d hoped that years of near constant substance abuse would train his abilities into curing hangovers as fast as they did cuts and bruises, but it seems his powers hadn’t quite gotten with the program yet. Still he was grateful that the longest they ever seemed to last was a few hours. 

He made his way through campus like a dead man, hood up and eyes down. His research wasn’t due, if one could call a favor for their adoptive father due, till later in the day, and as the sun blinded him, he considered just going back to his dorm and waiting the hangover out in the darkness. But (Y/N) didn’t plan on being sober come four o’clock, and he was hoping to push any lectures Brink had on how a supe should present themself in public till later in the semester. 

When he reached the crime fighting building he really wished he’d just given into his whims and gone back to his dorm. 

“What the fuck? Luke?” (Y/N) shouted, rushing over to where Andre and Marie were standing across from his best friend. His very much on fire, best friend. 

“Fuck everyone else. It’s just me and you.” Andre said as Luke looked around them frantically. Andre didn’t even notice (Y/N)'s approach, his eyes solely focused on the man in front of him. “You know I love you.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” Luke responded. 

“Hey.” Andre caught sight of (Y/N) as soon as (Y/N) reached him. He grabbed (Y/N)'s arm, forcing him to take a step closer to Luke whose eyes were frantically looking between his two best friends. “Look (Y/N)'s here, whatever happened just tell us and we’ll get through it.” 

Luke’s flames went out, and he rushed the two men. (Y/N) barely registered Marie’s shout behind him before Luke engulfed Andre in a hug. The two men spoke lowly to one another, and as quick as he had rushed Andre Luke pulled away, looking to (Y/N). 

His cheeks were stained with tears, and he began to sob even harder when he made eye contact with (Y/N). Luke collapsed into (Y/N)'s arms, causing him to stumble back. 

“Luke, what’s going on?” (Y/N) whispered, a lump forming in his throat. 

“I am so sorry. I love you, and I’m so sorry.” Luke sobbed into his shoulder, and (Y/N) held him tighter. 

“I love you too.” His eyes watered as he spoke. “Luke, you’re scaring me, what the fuck is going on?” 

“I am so sorry, but I had to,” Luke said, and (Y/N) felt tears begin to slip down his cheeks. Luke turned his head, whispering something in (Y/N)'s ear that made him freeze. He loosened his hold on Luke, pulling away just enough to look Luke in his eyes. 

“Luke?” 

“I am so sorry,” Luke said one last time, pressing a kiss to (Y/N)'s hair. (Y/N) watched, eyes wide, as Luke took a step back. He ignited himself, pushing off the ground and into the air. He watched as he flew higher and higher, getting brighter the higher he went until (Y/N) had to close his eyes to shield them from the light. 

When (Y/N) opened his eyes again he was covered in blood. Luke’s blood.

[hanakihan]

I live for jinchul and gunhee having a dynamic that has a little bit of everything in it

like they’re friends, they’re coworkers, they’re hunters, they’re a boss and a right hand man but most importantly they’re family

i absolutely live for gunhee playing along with jinchul’s work policy but it’s doesn’t mean anything stops gunhee from being an embarrassing doting father figure for jinchul

gunhee definitely has too much fun seeing his ‘adopted son’ dying inside from every embarrassing dad thing gunhee does

[explode-this]

Observations from a discord: if the organization loosely represented by the discord server (established as a place for people in a particular organization-related clutch to communicate outside of designated meetings) is structured so there is no direct leadership, then when one person becomes a de facto leader (by virtue of always greeting newcomers, dispensing information, and encouraging interaction), this aspect is called into question. And when that de facto leader says they have information someone requested but they should DM for it, that is a strangulation of the notion of free flowing information and further evidence that leadership ranks do in fact form over time regardless of how often “lack of direct leadership” is emphasized as part of group structure. What if someone is uncomfortable with that person and does not want to communicate with them directly? That means they are kept from the information in question and are directly impacted by the executive decisions of someone claiming to not actually be a leader. Madness.

(Yes this is vague, and maybe I should mute said server or remove myself entirely but sociologically it is fascinating as fuck to look in from time to time lmao)

[noemilivv]

What the…

HAZBIN HOTEL CAST are like as …

PARTNERS !! (and before that!)

Includes: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husker, Niffty, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Lute

Warnings: Swearing, S1 spoilers, sexual references, mentions of abuse, mentions of Valentino, messy, barely proofread

Also side note, if this is highly enjoyed, I will do a Part 2 with more characters!

Charlie Morningstar

Crush!Charlie is a bit obvious. Not TOO obvious, but maybe if you squint hard enough…

Crush!Charlie has a tendency to show extra attention to you, especially if you’re a resident at the Hotel who’s trying to go up to Heaven.

Example: You’re the first person she asks if they need help, invite for a group activity, etc

Despite the fact that Crush!Charlie is really eager to confess her feelings, she truly does find value in getting to know you as a friend first.

She believes that it has its perks, which it does.

Crush!Charlie enjoys getting to know your hobbies, interests, past, strengths, all of it.

But as you are going off on your usual yap sesh about your face topic …

Crush!Charlie can’t help but peck you on the cheek, you’re cheeks just look so squishy and cute!

You’re stunned… You would’ve never thought that.. Charlie? Likes you? Pffff… Ain’t no way!

Crush!Charlie scrambles to explain to you her genuine feelings, and how she’s wanted to be with you for a long time, and scrambles again to ask you if you feel the same.

Now it’s your turn to shut someone up with a kiss.

You give her a drawn out peck on the lips, not too short, but not too long. Just enough to satisfy.

And yes, you do feel the same.

Now GF!Charlie is totally stoked! But she’s also a bit scared of the shoes she has to fill.

GF!Charlie decides to give you a little candy bouquet (that she made!)! Honestly it’s the cutest frickin thing, it has little chocolates and lollipops like AAA get me a Charlie!

GF!Charlie decides to introduce you to her dad, sure you guys have crossed paths a few times, but like, formally this time.

At first Lucifer is intimidated by you (not that he’d admit that), similar to the rivalry he had with Alastor.

But after awhile, he warms up to you, at the end of the day he loves his daughter, and he sees that you do to. So long as you treat Charlie good and you like rubber ducks, he’s chill with you :)

GF!Charlie’s love language is gift giving and physical touch!

On one hand, she loves giving gifts, it’s very soothing for her to go out and find something to give you, or coming up with an idea to make something for you, it takes her mind off of things

But at the other end of the scale, she loves receiving physical touch, she kinda freezes when she does because it’s so much to her but at the same time she enjoys it dearly! Even something as simple as rubbing her hand with your thumb while handling hands, long hugs, or hand kisses send her into a spiral haha

At the end of the day, GF!Charlie loves you a ton and honestly is just happy to be there loving you lol

Vaggie

When Crush!Vaggie realizes she has a crush on you, it’s a bit of an ‘Oh Shit’ moment, y’know?

Due to her secret, and the fact that she has a bit of trust issues, they just don’t go hand-in-hand with love.

Crush!Vaggie is a bit dependent on you to make the first move, but that doesn’t mean she won’t, but she needs you to throw a few jabs first.

The more her crush on you stays and the more she doesn’t do about it, the more it starts to bug her

Crush!Vaggie decides one day she doesn’t know how much more of the subtle flirting and eye contact from across the room she can take, cause deep down, she has a gut feeling you like her too.

So, Crush!Vaggie decides she’s going to confess.

When it comes down to it, obviously you feel the same, and she really wants to make an impact right away!

Now GF!Vaggie decides to plan a little surprise for you, a date!

GF!Vaggie decides to just take you out to the back of the hotel and you two lay down and look at the night sky (as I’m not sure if there’s stars in Hell tbh.)

You two sit there and talk, it gets vulnerable for a bit, slowly but surely starting to break down eachothers walls… But not for too long before one of you is like “NOPE, too much emotions for one day!” haha

At the end of the day, GF!Vaggie, isn’t perfect at this whole girlfriend thing, but for you? She’ll sure as hell try.

Angel Dust

Like Vaggie, Crush!Angel is tempted to “NOPE” out, after falling into Val’s trap, he’s hesitant to try again.

But soon enough Charlie shows him that opening up got her an amazing girlfriend, so he decides, hey, might as well right?

Crush!Angel goes out of his way to obnoxiously flirt with you, but you thought this was normal behavior, as he does it with basically everyone at the hotel.

Crush!Angel thinks it’ll take time, but you’ll catch on, and well… not exactly…

One day, Crush!Angel comes back from a long shoot, and he pulls a good, classic flirt on you, and poof! Right over your head!

And he doesn’t know what got in him, maybe the alcohol, maybe Valentino, maybe the buildup stress, who’s knows, but he snaps…

Crush!Angel proceeds to go off about how he’s always flirting with you and how he just doesn’t get how you’re so blind that you just can’t see it!?

And you start to laugh, which at first makes him more mad.

“Well how was I supposed to know if you flirt with everyone here? I thought it was normal!”

And with that, you walk away, leaving him bamboozled.

The night goes on as normal, you head up to your hotel room, and just as you’re about to turn lights out you hear a knock on your door and a voice from the outside.

“So do you wanna fuck me too, or no?”

The next day, you and Crush!Angel have a talk over a drink or two, and decide, not only do you two wanna fuck, you also want to date!

Now BF!Angel is a bit nervous, but don’t fret! He has that feeling in his stomach that makes him want to grin like he’s never grinned before.

BF!Angel’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmations, considering all that Val can do to him in a day, he doesn’t love being touched without consent, but that doesn’t mean touch is off limits by any means! Just ask and he’ll give it to you!

And for quality time, you and BF!Angel don’t really go out for dates, considering how fans (and Val) are, also considering the fact that he just wants a break from life.

Instead, you two usually just spend time in eachothers hotel rooms, binge shows, give eachother makeovers, play dress up, just being the kids you never got the opportunity to be.

And once he sees that Fat Nuggets likes you, he knows you’re the one.

Alastor

When Crush!Alastor first realizes he has feelings for you, he makes a mental note and goes on with his day.

He doesn’t really understand the point in fussing about it like most do, but then again, he’s not most people.

Crush!Alastor does thoroughly enjoy spending time with you though, he likes to just sorta keep you around.

He sticks up for you, if somebody gives you a problem, it will be handled, even if it’s a bit sadistic, he will do it everytime.

Crush!Alastor doesn’t feel the need to confess directly, but if you ask him how he feels about it, he won’t deny his feelings towards you!

So whenever Crush!Alastor becomes BF!Alastor, he does lay down some ground rules, as a relationship with him, will not be the same as a relationship with others.

BF!Alastor is a gentleman, no doubt. He opens any door that you may come across (car, building, whatever), he asks for consent before doing anything — however intimate it may be, and he does buy you flowers.

But, that does not mean BF!Alastor is perfect, he’s not the most physically affectionate, unless he initiates it himself, and he’s not great with feelings.

If you’re upset, he tries to stay away, not because he doesn’t care, but because most of the time he’ll keep his upbeat energy and act like nothings wrong in attempts to cheer you up — but sometimes that’s just not what you need.

But, BF!Alastor kicks in eventually, and turns on some calming music, turns his radio affect down in volume so the sound doesn’t overwhelm you, and give you a nice, long hug as you two sway around the room.

By far, BF!Alastor’s love language is acts of service and quality time.

BF!Alastor honestly adores spending time with you, you’ve made him feel more alive than he has in years, and he follows you around like a puppy, but he makes it look like you following him around rather than the other way.

And he’ll always do things for you, even if he doesn’t understand them. If they make you happy, he might as well get started on doing them, because he can’t go awhile without seeing your darling face and your beautiful smile.

Sir Pentious

Crush!Pentious is… very… obvious.

But you don’t say anything, cause he’s adorkable.

You watch day after day out of pure adoration as Crush!Pentious tumbled over his words and changes his mind as he tried to make a move, and you loved every second of it.

This went on for awhile, and you started to notice his little quirks, which only made you fall for him more.

Eventually, one day after Crush!Pentious had tried to subtly say that he liked you, you decided to do him a favor.

“Pen.”

“I like you too.”

“I- UHM- WELL- YOU’RE- I- UHM-”

Yeah maybe that didn’t go how you thought it would…

Well in more ways than one, cause Crush!Pentious became BF!Pentious that day!

BF!Pentious was really nervous, he finally had you! But he didn’t wanna lose you cause he did something stupid either… He had to make the perfect move!

So he ended up asking Charlie to ask you a bunch of relationship related questions, and ending up deciding on your dream date with your favorite flowers. Basic, but gets the job done right?

BF!Pentious’ love languages are gift giving and physical touch. Like please cuddle him. He’ll get pouty if you don’t notice. So just notice already!!

BF!Pentious, like Charlie, loves making you gifts! He uses his knowledge from war machines to make something homemade and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing!

Is he perfect? Yes. But for this let’s say no. Does he try? Also yes!

Husker

Crush!Husk can’t even remember the last time he had a crush, but he’s chill with it.

Crush!Husk never planned on officially confessing to you, he just was going with the flow, ya know?

You start talking to him and realize maybe you like him too, but it wasn’t thought about much more than that.

It’s not until Angel asks you, “So are ya fucking or no..?”

And it makes you think, no, but you wouldn’t mind if that were arranged.

So one night, while you’re drunk and talking to Crush!Husk, you say… “Y-Ya knOW! We- We should HAHAH get together! HEHEHEH!” “Talk to me when you’re sober, you’re not making a stupid decision, I won’t let ya.”

And somehow, someway, you remembered that in the morning. So with a headache from your hangover, you go up to Husk’s bar and sit down, “What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”

From then on, Crush!Husk became BF!Husk!!

BF!Husk always made sure to look out for you. He’s the ‘defend you in public, correct you in private’ kinda guy.

BF!Husk is big on words of affirmation and acts of service.

He won’t hesitate to tell you how much he loves and cares for you whenever you need it, he’s a very honest guy, but he also loves doing little things to show that he cares.

‘Oh, I did the dishes for you.’ or ‘I cleaned your room.’ or ‘I folded your laundry.’ are things you hear daily.

Niffty

Crush!Niffty is another one that’s very obvious, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care.

Crush!Niffty has been open to you about her feelings since day one, and you make sure she knows you feel the same way.

So basically instantly, she becomes GF!Niffty.

GF!Niffty loves physical touch and acts of service.

She loves cleaning for you, and showing you all her accomplishments. But she also loves hugging you, kissing you, just being next to you is enough.

Life isn’t much different versus life with Crush!Niffty but you love it regardless, and you wouldn’t trade either life for anything.

Lucifer Morningstar

Crush!Lucifer doesn’t really have that shock of realizing he likes you, cause he always has and has always known.

You were the one person who was there after Lilith, even if it was only platonic back then, you were still there.

Crush!Lucifer REALLY likes you and considering how long he’s liked you (literal years) he decides to just man up and say it.

Unsurprisingly, you feel the same way and you two start dating.

BF!Lucifer doesn’t want to lose you like how he lost Charlie and Lilith, so he’s very certain that he gives you everything he thinks you derserve.

BF!Lucifer is a big jumble of all the love languages at once because of this. But I think he leans towards physical touch and words of affirmation.

BF!Lucifer is constantly in need of reassurance as he feels like he’s not enough due to his depression, and also hugs, because y’know, hugs help.

If you have a good relationship with Charlie, which you should, like cmon, he’s ecstatic! And sometimes he needs your help with parenting cause he really wants to try his best for you, and her.

Adam

Adam and you started off just fucking for fun, and fucking for fun turned into, friends, friends turned into- woah… it turned into a crush…

Crush!Adam is fucking clueless, he’s not good with this stuff, just guitar solos (FUCK YEAAHH).

During Charlie’s meeting with Heaven, he slips you a note…

Hey hot babe,

wanna do more than just fuck? (date)

And my God, you better accept because THAT is ART.

BF!Adam is far from perfect, but damn close. He really cares. But his main love languages are quality time and physical touch.

I mean cmon, he’s not great with his words, he can’t do much other than fight, he’s ass at giving gifts (he tried to give you a dildo once). So it’s really the only thing he’s good at, he can sit there, and touch you. That’s about all he knows how to do!

At the end of the day, BF!Adam really tries his best, he loves you, after all :)

Lute

Considering the fact you’re Lute’s boss, she spends a lot of time with you.

And because of that, she starts to develop feelings.

Crush!Lute realizes she has a crush on you almost immediately, although she hesitates to tell you, due to how much you guys are together and her job.

But after awhile, she has a bit of a ‘screw it’ moment.

And boom! She turns into GF!Lute.

GF!Lute is a whole new version of the person you had gotten to know. Her wild side comes out, unlike her normal stoic side. (Example: “RIP VAGGIES CUNT MOUTH OUT ‘ER ASS!!!”)

Also side note, GF!Lute is committed as fuckkk. Once she’s there, she’s there for good, cause she loves you!

— END.

Hello! This is my first Hazbin post! I haven’t written for these characters in a solid year so I hope it’s alright! As I said up top, if this gets a lot of love, then I’ll do a part two (Which will include Cherri and the Vees to name a few~) ! Also don’t mind my Lute bias lmao, she’s my fav, she’s so hatable but idgaf and I love her vibe lmao! I’m hyperfixating on Hazbin since the first season just came out lmao! So please send requests! Love ya :)

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 12.7k (huhhhhh?) tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation, mentions of miscarriage a/n: smidge more angst, delves more into yns internal thoughts & feelings series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

“Sa…” you can’t even find it in yourself to finish that sentence, to utter his complete name. As if afraid that when you do, it’ll be like summoning some sort of demon. Only this time, it’s the father of your child—same thing.

He looks as shocked as you, if not more so. His eyes widen and then narrow in a rhythmic movement that makes you scared, anticipating whatever utterance will fall from his pretty lips. If only you could go back in time and deny even the thought of going on this whatever with Mr. Ito. Maybe then you could’ve been spared, at least given some time to mentally prepare yourself for seeing the face of the man who has been practically haunting you for five years. Maybe then, he wouldn’t look so…different. 

“Ms. Y/N?” Mr. Ito’s confused voice snaps you both simultaneously out of the small staring contest you were just in. When Satoru finally acknowledges the other man, you can see a small tick on his eyebrows. Mr. Ito—well he’s not dumb. Every feature of Satoru reminding him of a small, much younger someone who happens to be in his kindergarten class. “O-oh…is this…do you two…know each other?”

What do you even say to that? Yes? No? Maybe so? It’s all so fucking confusing and complicated, but Satoru seems to save you. “And who are you?” he asks, voice flat and calculating. His eyes dart between you and Mr. Ito, like he’s trying to silently gauge what’s going on between you two. His analytical skills always seem to put you off, so you look away. 

“Um…well, I’m Ms. Y/N’s son’s teacher. Nice to meet you.” Mr. Ito slowly explains, putting on a timid smile, outstretching his tan hand towards Satoru.

To no surprise, Satoru doesn’t reciprocate the welcome gesture. He is instead, clenching his fists by his side. You can see his jaw tick from your peripheral, as if he’s doing his damned hardest not to blow the hell up right now. “Are you now?”

Mr. Ito, caught in the middle of something he has no business in, glances around awkwardly. A weird chuckle leaving his mouth, lowering his hand back down to his side. “Um, yes, sir.”

“Funny,” Satoru laughs, though there’s no humor laced in it. He looks back down at you. “Very funny,” Satoru adds, his voice light, almost conversational. His sharp blue eyes flick from Mr. Ito to you, then back again, but there’s a glint in them you recognize all too well—calm, composed, and dangerous.  

Mr. Ito doesn’t seem fazed, meeting Satoru’s gaze with polite confidence. “Yes, we were just discussing some things regarding her son,” he says, his tone smooth and professional. There’s a flicker of curiosity in his expression, though, as he glances between the two of you, clearly piecing things together.  

“Were you now?” Satoru’s lips twitch into a faint smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He then casually pulls out a chair from the table and sits, resting one arm on top of it as if he has all the time in the world. “And what kind of things are we talking about?”  

With every second that passes, you feel yourself grow closer and closer to pissing your pants. You know exactly what he’s doing, it’s the calm before the storm. Satoru is great at saving face, but after knowing him so intimately, you know his true intentions and feelings. But still, you’re too frozen in place to stop it all before it gets out of hand. 

“Well,” Mr. Ito replies, still composed but he spares a look at you before continuing. “Just a few concerns regarding his talkativeness.”  Mr. Ito keeps it vague, still a little on edge by this sudden change of events. 

Satoru lets out a low hum, nodding slightly. “Oh, he talks a lot, does he?” he says, his tone almost too soft, too soothing. His eyes slide to you, lingering just long enough to make you squirm. “And that’s become a problem?”  

Mr. Ito nods. 

Satoru smiles, arms crossing and one leg crossing over the other. “Must be a little troublemaker, he seems to take after his mom.”

The subtle barb stings, but you force yourself to keep your expression neutral. Mr. Ito, seemingly oblivious, smiles warmly. “Hah, well, I’m not sure who he takes after.”

“Correct.” Satoru simply responds. 

Mr. Ito pauses then continues. “But, She’s an excellent parent,” he says, glancing your way. “We’ve had a few chats during pick-up. It’s always nice to see someone so involved in their child’s education.”  

Satoru’s smile tightens ever so slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching as he leans forward just a fraction. “It is nice, isn’t it?” he says smoothly, his voice calm but edged with something you can’t quite name. “I mean, a teacher like you must see all kinds of parents. You’ve really taken the time to notice Y/N, haven’t you?”  

Mr. Ito hesitates for the first time, sensing the subtle shift in Satoru’s tone. “Well, I try to be passionate about connecting with all the parents of my students,” he replies, still polite but less certain now.  

Satoru’s smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it widens slightly, though his eyes remain cold. “Of course,” he says, leaning back as if completely at ease. “You’re just doing your job. Going above and beyond, I see.”  

You can feel the tension radiating off Satoru, even if he’s doing his best to appear calm. It’s in the way his fingers tap against the table in a measured rhythm, the way his gaze sharpens with every word.  

“Satoru,” you interject quickly, trying to defuse the situation before it escalates. “Can we ta—”  

“Oh, just a second,” he holds up a long finger, regarding you with such simplicity in a way that makes you feel inferior. Eyes not moving from Mr. Ito’s. “I mean, I should probably be involved in this conversation too, no? Considering I’m the—what do you call it?—Oh, right, father.” 

You gulp hard. Mr. Ito once again shifts his position, hands awkwardly clasping together. 

“Anywho,” Satoru switches back to the subject at hand. “Passion’s a good thing. As long as it’s directed where it belongs, of course.”  

The remark hangs in the air, heavy with implication. Mr. Ito moves uncomfortably but keeps his polite demeanor, clearing his throat. “Well, I should probably get back home, I have some things to grade,” he says, glancing at his watch. “It was nice meeting you, Mr.…”  

“Gojo,” Satoru finishes for him, his smile razor-sharp. “The pleasure’s all mine.”  

Mr. Ito nods, grabbing his jacket he put on the back of his chair. “Goodbye, Ms. Y/N. I'll see you on Monday.” He still has the audacity to give you a warm smile before leaving the cafe, the bell dinging following his departure. 

After a second or two, Satoru’s calm facade finally cracks, his jaw clenching as he exhales slowly through his nose. You brace yourself, knowing that the real conversation is about to begin. The way his eyes scan you up and down in an analytical way makes you feel naked. “And look at you,” he huffs, head tilting in a patronizing way. “Silent and jittery like a little mouse. If I didn’t have other things to say, I’d say you look quite pathetic.”

Blow number 1, there he goes already. Though, you can’t find it in you to rebuttal that. Scared to say anything, honestly. There’s a pause as Satoru picks apart every little thing about you inside his head. You might have felt better hearing it out loud instead of being stuck on the silent end of the stick. Eventually, you find your small amount of courage. “Satoru…”

“Oh, look. You do my name. Thought you would have forgotten it after all the sneaky shit you seem to have been doing these past few years.”

“Can we please talk?” You ask, voice laced with desperation. 

“Hm?” His eyebrow raises. “We’re talking right now, right? Why don’t you sit down?”

Hell no. You bite your lip, hands trembling by your sides. “Please, somewhere private.”

“What makes you think you deserve anything right now?”

He’s right, really right. You probably deserve shit with the lies and deceitful nature you’ve been harboring these years. But, can’t he have at least a little bit of sympathy for you? He has no idea about the shit you’ve been going through all this time by yourself. And while yes, you do feel guilty, he should be still trying to address the situation in an adult-ish manner. “Satoru…please. We shouldn’t talk here, let’s just…go somewhere more quiet.”

Satoru mulls over your words, a part of him wanting to drag this out even longer and make you more uncomfortable. You deserve it. But, you’re also right. So, he takes in a deep breath, stands up, and motions his head towards the door in a silent command. Without wasting a second, you turn around and walk out of the cafe with him hot on your tail. Intending to lead him to the secluded park that you and Koji frequently visit because there’s not a lot of foot traffic. Although your ideal spot would be indoors, you can’t exactly lead him to your apartment right now—not that you want to, anyway.

It’s only a few minutes of walking, but the entire time feels horrible. He stares at the back of your head, eyes roaming down to your back, legs, and then ass. In that specific order. Satoru’s always saved the best for last, and while checking you out should be the last thing on his mind, staring at your ass will at least somewhat calm him down. You’re not stupid either, it’s like you can feel his eyes shamelessly darting about. However, that’s the least of your worries right now.

You see the familiar bench in the distance, taking a seat. He sits beside you, leaving a considerable distance between your bodies. There’s another silence, this one feeling more suffocating. It suddenly hits you that you’re about to do this—about to have this conversation with him, own up to all your bad deeds. You have to, no more hiding. You gulp down the lump in your throat before speaking, “I know this is all probably…really bad. I know you’re mad at me, you have every right to be.”

Satoru doesn’t respond right away, leaning back on the bench with an air of nonchalance that contrasts starkly with the storm brewing in his eyes. He tilts his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the horizon, as if giving you the floor—but the weight of his silence feels heavier than any words he could’ve said. “Mad?” he finally repeats, his voice low and deceptively calm. He turns to you, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Mad doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

You wince, his words cutting deeper than you expected. Your hands grip the edge of the bench, knuckles turning white as you scramble for the right thing to say, the perfect way to explain yourself—but nothing feels sufficient. Nothing ever will. “I know,” you whisper, forcing yourself to look at him even as shame threatens to make you shrink away. “I know I should’ve told you—about Koji, about everything. I was just… scared. I didn’t know how to handle it, and—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, his tone sharp enough to slice through your excuses. His gaze pins you in place, icy and unrelenting. “Don’t you dare try to justify it. You made the choice to keep my son from me. For five years.”

The raw anger in his voice makes your chest tighten, guilt clawing at your insides. “I didn’t do it to hurt you,” you plead, voice trembling. “I swear, Satoru, I thought I was doing what was best—”

“For who?” he snaps, his calm facade slipping for a brief moment, revealing the frustration bubbling underneath. “For me? For Koji? Or just for you?”

You flinch at his words, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “For Koji,” you choke out. “I wanted to protect him. There’s—there are reasons why I didn’t…..” your voice trails off, unable to get the remaining part of your excuse out. But it’s true. You had—have—your reasons. And while most people still might not consider it good enough or justifiable, you truly believed what you did was for good. 

Satoru lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair as he looks away, shaking his head. “Reasons?” he mutters, almost to himself. “And what, you think keeping my son a secret all because of ‘reasons’ makes this situation any better? Are you that fucking stupid?”

“No, no, I…know it won’t make anything better,” you whisper, voice barely audible. “I know that. But back then, I just… I just thought that…he wasn’t ready for your world, like I’m not.” By world, you mean quite literally that. Satoru grew up spoiled, his inner elite circle is all he’s ever known. Responsibilities at such a young age, responsibilities no child should face. Expectations, public display, people constantly butting their heads in your business, you have absolutely zero privacy. Satoru would vent to you about that, and you knew—just knew—you couldn’t put your innocent baby boy through that. There’s a class divide between you and Satoru, the main reason as to why you two broke up in the first place. 

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to lash out again—but instead, he exhales sharply, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You didn’t even give me a choice,” he says quietly, his voice laced with hurt. “You decided for both of us. For him.”

The weight of his words crushes you, the reality of your actions settling in your chest like a stone. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, tears finally spilling over. “I’m so, so sorry, Satoru. I just… I didn’t know how to face you.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, his head bowed as if he’s trying to gather his thoughts. When he finally looks up, his gaze is softer, but no less intense. “Do you have any idea what it’s like,” he murmurs, “to find out you have a son—your son—after all this time? To realize you’ve missed everything?”

Your heart breaks at the pain in his voice, and you reach out instinctively, your hand hovering over his before pulling back, unsure if he’ll accept your touch. “I know I can’t fix this,” you say, voice shaking. “But I want to try. I want to make things right. For you. For Koji.”

Satoru studies you for a long moment, his piercing gaze searching your face for something—truth, regret, maybe even hope. “Making things right?” he echoes softly. “You can’t make this right. Because you did something so fucked up, I think I’m starting to hate you.”

“I don’t expect you not to,” you say, sniffling as you wipe your eyes. Now’s the time to be transparent.

“Tell me,” he commands, looking at you with an unrecognizable face. “Tell me every single fucking reason why you thought what you did was okay. Then maybe—only maybe—I’ll decide how we should move forward from this.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I thought I was doing what was best for Koji,” you repeat softly, though the words feel hollow even to your ears. “Your world, Satoru—it’s suffocating. The spotlight, the responsibilities, the pressure... I didn’t want him to grow up with that. I didn’t want him to be molded by something he never asked for. I–I just wanted him to have a normal childhood growing up, something you weren’t able to have…”

He stares at you, unblinking, his expression unreadable but his jaw visibly tightening.

“And then... there was us,” you continue, your voice faltering slightly. “We had just broken up, and I—I didn’t think you’d want to settle down with a kid so soon after everything. I didn’t think you were…ready.”

His eyes narrow, sharp, and cold. “So you assumed I wasn’t ready, just like you assumed it would be better to keep him from me?”

“It wasn’t just that,” you say quickly, the tremor in your voice betraying your desperation. You let out a shaky exhale, willing yourself to continue, even though it’s getting harder to breathe. “After the miscarriage... I couldn’t handle the idea of telling you I was pregnant again. I was terrified, Satoru. Terrified of losing him too, and what that would do to both of us. I thought... if I kept it to myself, maybe I could protect him, protect us from that pain.” The words of your past are extremely hard to get out. You vowed to yourself to never even utter or think of the word miscarriage ever again, though that’s hard to do when you’re explaining yourself. It was hard, so fucking hard for you. No words or exercises can prepare you for the pain of having a child, just like nothing can prepare you for the pain of losing one. It happened two years into your relationship, and although it was completely unexpected and accidental, you felt something in your bones that told you to keep it.

Satoru tried, as hard as he could, though you’re not sure that means a lot. You could see the exhaustion and fatigue in his face, feeling guilter by the day for wanting to keep it. While he never explicitly voiced out getting rid of it, you knew he wouldn’t be upset if you did. That alone was the start of your relationship’s downfall. Maybe it was your own version of stress, anxiety, and whatever else you were going through back then, but you lost it. Your body wasn’t strong enough to house and grow a production of your love, which you hated yourself for. Maybe even a small part of you started hating Satoru, thinking about how happy he must have been behind his soothing words and even more soothing hugs. You thought how ecstatic he must be, lying straight to your face after crying with you. Of course, you never voiced these malicious feelings out either. The memories you’ve locked away for years now come crashing through your defenses, spilling out into the open where they can’t be ignored.

You remembered the nights spent curled up on the bathroom floor. The heavy blood clots, mixed with strong abdominal pain. Sobbing silently so Satoru wouldn’t hear you, your hands pressed to your stomach like you could keep your child safe just by willing it. But it hadn’t been enough. Nothing you did was enough.

The moment you’d lost your first child, a part of you had shattered beyond repair. The guilt was unbearable, the self-loathing even worse. A horrible thing for a twenty-one year old to experience; for any woman to experience. Every reassuring word from Satoru felt like a lie, no matter how sincerely he meant them. It’s almost like you could see the shadow of relief in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking, the slight easing of tension in his shoulders that felt like a betrayal even though you couldn’t blame him for it. 

It had eaten away at you, little by little, until the mere thought of being pregnant again felt like a cruel joke. You’d failed once—what if you failed again? When you saw the test, you didn’t cry out of happiness. You cried out of fear, choking on your sobs as the weight of the decision pressed down on you. Keeping Koji meant risking everything again—your heart, your sanity, your relationship with Satoru, already frayed and stretched thin. Could you go through that pain again? Could he?

You didn’t think you could, and that thought was what finally broke you. Because if you couldn’t handle it, how could you expect Satoru to? You’d already seen the exhaustion in his eyes, the way he’d tried so hard to comfort you when he was barely holding himself together. And the truth that you never said out loud, the truth you could barely admit to yourself, was that you didn’t believe he’d want to try again.

You were terrified he’d ask you to get rid of it this time. Or worse—he’d do what he did last time: try to be there, try to support you, while secretly wishing for a way out. You couldn’t handle the idea of hearing him say it. You couldn’t bear the thought of watching his love for you chip away under the strain of something neither of you was ready for.

So you decided. Alone. After the break-up. That is when you found out, after all; three weeks later.

You told yourself it was for Koji. That keeping him away from Satoru’s world—the world of power, expectations, and relentless spotlight—was what was best for him. You told yourself it was for Satoru, too, because he deserved to live his life without being shackled to a family he might not have wanted. But deep down, you knew it was also about you. About your own cowardice, your fear of rejection, your inability to face the possibility of losing everything again.

Sitting here now, with Satoru’s eyes burning into you, the weight of your decisions feels unbearable. The excuses you clung to for so long sound hollow, even to you. But they were your truths at the time, however twisted and fragile they might have been. “I thought I was protecting all of us,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the strain of holding back tears. The words hang in the air, raw and exposed, as you finally let yourself feel the full weight of the choices you made and the people they hurt.

Satoru feels his world pause when you mention the traumatic event you both went through. His stomach twisting in a disgusting feeling, a hint of bile rising in his throat. Memories, painful memories playing on repeat in his mind. He even feels the familiar tickle at his eyes, blinking rapidly to avoid any pour out.

Then, for a moment, his gaze softens, just a flicker of something raw and unguarded crossing his face—but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “So…by protecting, you decide to hide it, him, everything from me. You decided I didn’t deserve to know him,” he says bitterly. “That I didn’t deserve to be there for him—or for you. Did you just think that I wouldn’t be the man I was supposed to be towards my children? You didn’t give me a second chance, to—to prove to you we could’ve done this, together. You…You didn’t even give me a chance, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t just about you,” you snap, the frustration bubbling up despite your guilt. “I was scared, Satoru. Scared of rejection, of what your family would think, of how we’d even make it work with everything stacked against us. I didn’t have your money, your power, your family name. I was just... me. And I didn’t think that would ever be enough.”

His brows furrow, and you can see him processing your words, his fists clenching at his sides. “You think I care about any of that?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I’d let a class divide or family politics get in the way of being there for my son?”

“I didn’t know what you’d do,” you admit, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “You were so far out of reach, Satoru. And after we lost... after everything we went through, I didn’t think you’d want to try again. I thought it’d be easier for you—easier for both of us—if I just disappeared.”

“Easier?” he repeats, his voice rising slightly, his calm facade threatening to crumble. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve hated myself for the last five years? For losing you? For wondering what could’ve been?”

You blink at him, startled by the crack in his voice, the sheer vulnerability in his words.

“You didn’t,” you whisper. “It wasn’t you, Satoru. It was me. I was scared, and I made the wrong choice. I know that now. I know I can’t fix this, but I want to try. For Koji’s sake. For your sake.”

He leans back slightly, exhaling sharply as he runs a hand through his hair. The silence between you is deafening, the weight of everything you’ve said hanging heavily in the air. “Do you know what I’m feeling right now?” he says finally, his voice quieter but no less intense, “How it feels like to find out you have a son you’ve never even met, to know you missed his first steps, his first words, his entire life so far? And why? Because you took that from me.”

Tears spill down your cheeks, but you don’t wipe them away. “I know,” you whisper. “I know, and I’m sorry. I was selfish. I thought I was protecting him, but I was just protecting myself.” 

Satoru looks at you for a long moment, his piercing gaze searching your face for something—truth, regret, maybe even hope. Finally, he exhales, his shoulders sagging slightly. “You’ve done a lot of damage, Y/N,” he says quietly. “And it’s going to take more than an apology to fix it.”

You nod, wiping your tears away. “I’m not asking for forgiveness, Satoru. I’m just asking for…a chance to make things right.” Your head lowers, vision blurry as you focus on your trembling hands in your lap. 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze shifting to the horizon. “This isn’t about you and me anymore,” he says after a long pause. “It’s about Koji. And I’m not going to let you shut me out of his life again.”

“I wouldn’t,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “I–I swear, Satoru. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work. For him.”

Satoru lets out a slow breath, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Then let’s start now,” he says, his tone firm. “Take me to him.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the reality of the situation sinking in. This is only the beginning—and there’s no turning back. “H-he’s at home.”

“So take me there.”

You stand, fumbling with your words. “I…I can’t just have you two meet out of nowhere, I have to tell him in advance.”

His lips purse, and downturn into another frown, a look that lets you know he’s this close to stop being lenient with you. However, he concedes. “Tomorrow. Here.” 

“Whe–”

“Ten in the morning, I’ll leave my meeting early.” he glances at the pristine, gold watch on his right wrist. “Give me your number, in case you try to run and lie again.”

A pang of hurt flies through you, though you can’t blame him for being cautious. Even if that cautiousness is riddled with snide remarks and insults. He gives you his phone, to which you go to contacts and place your new number in, marked by your name. Without another word, he pockets his phone. When he looks at you for one last time, it looks like it hurts, like he’s forcing himself to. After a second, he turns around and walks away, leaving you to your own devices. 

Letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, you sit back on the bench, head in your hands and lightly tugging at your strands of hair. Things still don’t feel right. You know you two still have a lot more to say to one another, unspoken words being your enemy. It’s far from over, actually. 

But at least you two have come to a small conclusion, for now. However, you don’t know how tomorrow will go. You can only hope you don’t cry too much, and that Koji and him will get along well.

Still, you can’t help that lingering sense of anxiousness. Is it okay for you to feel this way? To be wary? Or are you stretching your already little luck?

The walk back home feels boneless and empty. Taking your time, going through small detours, and whatnot. You get back home after a few hours, it’s already twelve in the afternoon. Regarding Sana with a muttered greeting and haphazardly giving her her money. When she leaves, you’re left alone. Koji’s surprisingly down for a nap. Usually, you would question why he’s sleeping this early in the day, but you could honestly use the peace and quiet right now. You could use it every day, actually. 

You sit on the small, worn-out couch. Letting your body sink into the thin material, head leaning back against the cushions. You’re in your mind again. It seems like every day is more exhausting than the last. As the saying goes, you learn something new every day. And today, one of the things that surprised you most was how Satoru said he’s been miserable in these past five years. He missed you? He hated himself for losing you? Then why didn’t he fight for you? Why’d he just stand there and take everything? If he really wanted you, he would’ve begged you to stay, he would’ve come up with some solution to your deteriorating relationship. Unless he said all that now just to make you feel even more shitty. You don’t know what’s right anymore.

 The thoughts spiral like a storm in your mind, each one crashing into the next without pause. The quiet apartment, usually your refuge, feels stifling now. The weight of everything Satoru said—and everything he didn’t—presses down on you like a heavy fog. You pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as if it could keep the memories and doubts at bay. It doesn’t. His words replay in your mind, over and over.

"You think I’d let a class divide or family politics get in the way of being there for my son?"

"Do you have any idea what it feels like to find out you have a son you’ve never even met?"

It’s not just his anger that haunts you; it’s the pain you saw flickering behind his icy facade. You knew it would be there, but experiencing it firsthand feels nauseating. Satoru Gojo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but in those fleeting moments, his vulnerability was almost unbearable to witness.

Still, you start to wonder. Why didn’t he fight for you? That thought burns the most. It’s a question that’s lingered in the shadows of your mind for years, one you tried to bury under the weight of your choices and responsibilities. The truth is, you don’t have an answer. Maybe you never will.

You glance at the small coffee table, littered with Koji’s coloring books and the half-empty mug of coffee you didn’t finish this morning. It feels like a snapshot of a life you’ve tried so hard to hold together, but now the cracks are impossible to ignore. You think of Koji, sleeping soundly in the other room, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in your chest. He’s your anchor, the one thing that’s kept you grounded all these years. But now, with Satoru back in the picture, everything feels uncertain. 

A part of you wants to believe he meant what he said—that he missed you, that he hated himself for losing you. But another part of you wonders if it’s just anger talking, a need to lash out and make you feel as miserable as he does. The exhaustion pulls at you like a tide, and you let your head fall into your hands, groaning softly. You want to scream, cry, or maybe just disappear for a while. But none of that will solve anything. You can’t rewrite the past.

The soft hum of the refrigerator fills the silence, a dull reminder of the life you’ve built here, brick by fragile brick. And now, in just a single morning, Satoru has shaken the foundation of everything you thought you knew.

You sigh heavily, forcing yourself to stand. There’s no use drowning in your thoughts. You glance at the closed door to Koji’s room, then at the kitchen. Maybe you should prepare something for lunch. Maybe you should sit down and write out everything you’ve been feeling, like the therapist you saw briefly after Koji’s birth suggested.

But instead, you just stand there, frozen in place, as the weight of your choices and the uncertainty of what comes next presses down on you. He’s gonna meet his dad. Koji’s finally getting what he’s wanted after so long, after so many curious questions. You think about how happy he might be, a little shy at first, but he’ll grow to become best friends with his dad. Bitterly smiling, you walk to the kitchen, forcing open a locked cabinet. You pour an unknowing amount of small white pills in your palm, dry swallowing them to quell your monstrous cluster migraine. The pills burn slightly as they go down, a sharp reminder of how raw your nerves are. You grip the edge of the sink, your fingers curling into the cold metal. The thought of Koji meeting Satoru feels like a knife with two edges—one gleaming with hope and the other with fear. 

Once Koji wakes up, you’ll need to have a talk with him. Koji’s been asking about his dad for as long as he could form the words. His innocent curiosity, his longing, had always been a reminder of the choices you made, and now…now, you’ll have to confront what those choices mean for him.

He’ll most likely be jumping off the walls, but…you start hoping he doesn’t. You imagine his face lighting up when he sees Satoru—those wide, curious eyes sparkling with excitement and the kind of joy you could never quite give him on your own. That should make you happy, shouldn’t it? He deserves to have both parents in his life. But the thought of him bonding with Satoru, looking up to him, and maybe even loving him more than you…that thought digs into your chest like a splinter. You hate how petty and small it makes you feel. 

You’ve done your best, haven’t you? You’ve given everything you could, sacrificed so much, and tried to shield him from the harshness of the world. But Satoru has something you can’t give—a life free of constant worries, opportunities Koji can only dream of, and a charisma that pulls people in like gravity. It’s stupid, you know it is. But you start worrying that Koji will begin to prefer Satoru over you. That he’ll find more comfort and happiness in a parent he just met than the one who’s done everything she could. 

But that’s the thing. 

Maybe your everything, your all, it just wasn’t enough. It still isn’t enough. Because while you’re giving Koji the bare minimum, you can’t do the littler things. Vacations, buying him toys he loves that he constantly sees on TV, newer clothes and not the thrifted kind, going out to eat dinner. None of that, and more. 

You glance at the clock. Koji will hopefully wake up soon. There’s no more time to wallow in your thoughts. You rinse your hands under the cold water, hoping it’ll steady the tremor in them. "This isn’t about you," you remind yourself firmly, staring at your reflection in the window above the sink. The woman staring back looks older than her years, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and worry. But beneath all of that, there’s still love—a fierce, unrelenting love for the boy who’s about to have his world turned upside down. You can’t control how Koji feels about Satoru, just like you couldn’t control how things fell apart between you and him. But you can control how you navigate this moment, for Koji’s sake.

You take a deep breath, forcing a smile that feels like it might crack your face. When Koji wakes up, you’ll talk to him. You’ll answer his questions, help him prepare, and do your best to hide your own fears. Because this isn’t about you.

"It’s about him," you whisper, as if saying it out loud will make the truth easier to accept.

“What I say, baby, I want you to listen well, okay? Can you do that for me?”

The young boy nods and grins. “I can listen, Mama,” he admits proudly. 

You should also probably bring up the issue Mr. Ito expressed to you, but that’s for another time. Also, you feel as if you weren’t getting the full story there. Whatever, that’s for another time. You steel yourself, choosing the correct words to say. “So, you know how Papa is always busy?”

He nods.

“Well,” you continue, taking his much smaller hand into yours, presenting a warm smile. “Papa won’t be busy tomorrow.”

He gasps, already seeing the twinkle form in his eyes, and you feel a tad jealous at how happy he’s already getting. “He is?!”

“Mhm,” you nod back. “Do you want to see Pa—”

“I wanna see Papa!”

He cuts you off, causing your jealousy to momentarily skyrocket. You catch yourself before the feeling twists any further, biting down the sharp edge of jealousy threatening to creep into your tone. This isn’t about you—it’s about Koji. It’s always been about Koji. “That’s great,” you say, forcing your smile to stay steady, even as a part of you aches at how easily he lights up for someone who’s been a ghost in his life until now. “But, Koji, baby, you need to listen to me first, okay? Seeing Papa is a big thing, and we need to talk about what that means.”

He tilts his head, the excitement in his eyes dimming just a little as he picks up on the seriousness in your voice. “Is it gonna be like when we see Uncle Ren?” 

Your heart twists at the innocent comparison. Ren, for all his faults, has been one of the only constants in Koji’s life outside of you. But no—this isn’t like Ren. This is his father. Ren’s the nicer, older man who runs the sweet shop down the corner. He always greets you two with such warmness, even giving Koji a free lollipop most of the time. 

“Not exactly,” you say carefully. “Papa is... someone very important. He’s not like Uncle Ren. He’s your family, Koji. Your real family.”

He blinks, trying to process your words. His little brows knit together in confusion. “So... he’s gonna stay with us?”

You feel your stomach drop at the question. You hadn’t prepared for this. You hadn’t thought about how to explain that Satoru isn’t coming into Koji’s life as a permanent fixture—not yet, at least. How do you tell a child something so complicated when it’s barely something you’ve figured out yourself? “Not right now,” you say gently, squeezing his hand. “But he’s going to start spending time with you. He’s been waiting a long time to meet you, Koji.”

“Really?” His face lights up again, his tiny frame vibrating with excitement.

“Really,” you confirm, though your voice feels thick. You clear your throat, forcing the emotion back down where it belongs. “But when you meet him, you have to be on your best behavior, okay? No running around like crazy or talking over people.”

“I’ll be good!” he promises, practically bouncing in his seat. You hope so. More than anything, you hope this meeting is what Koji dreams it’ll be. That he gets to see the man who is half of him and feel nothing but joy.

But as you watch his wide, excited smile, your stomach churns with doubt. Will Satoru disappoint him? Will Koji’s expectations crash under the weight of Satoru’s complexities? Or worse, will Koji grow to love him so much that he stops looking at you the same way?

You push the thought away, leaning forward to kiss Koji’s forehead. “I’m proud of you, baby,” you murmur, even as the ache in your chest refuses to subside. “And I’m so excited for you to meet Papa.”

Koji giggles, his little arms wrapping around your waist in a hug so pure it threatens to undo you entirely. You hold him close, pressing your cheek to his soft hair, and try to anchor yourself in this moment—this fleeting, fragile peace—before tomorrow comes and changes everything. As Koji pulls back, his eyes are gleaming with uncontainable joy. “Do you think Papa likes dinosaurs?” he asks suddenly, his voice pitched with excitement. “I can show him my dino book! And my drawings too!”

Your lips twitch into a soft smile despite the heaviness sitting in your chest. “I think he’ll love them, Koji,” you say gently. “But remember, it’s okay if Papa doesn’t know everything about dinosaurs. You can teach him, right?”

Koji nods eagerly, his little hands fidgeting as if he’s already planning how he’ll show off his collection. “I can teach him all the big words, like pachy... pachycephalosaurus!” he declares proudly.

Your laugh is small but genuine, breaking through the weight of your thoughts. “That’s a big word, alright,” you say, ruffling his hair. Koji’s excitement is infectious, and for a moment, you let yourself bask in his enthusiasm. It’s easier to pretend that everything will go smoothly, that tomorrow won’t bring possible complications you can’t predict or control. But as he bounds off to his room, presumably to organize his dinosaur books and drawings for tomorrow, the silence that settles over the apartment again feels excruciating. You glance toward the kitchen, where the locked cabinet hides the pills you’ve been relying on far too often these days. For a moment, the thought crosses your mind, unbidden: Would it even matter if I wasn’t enough anymore?

You shake your head sharply, disgusted with yourself for even entertaining it. No. You have to be enough—for Koji, if nothing else.

Sighing, you push yourself off the couch and move toward his room. You lean against the doorframe, watching as he carefully stacks his books into a neat pile, his little hands moving with purpose. “Koji,” you call softly, and he looks up at you, his face lit with the same pure joy it’s always had.

“Yeah, Mama?”

“I just...” You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. I just love you so much. It feels too simple, too heavy all at once. Instead, you force a smile. “I think Papa’s really lucky to have you.”

Koji beams, his smile wide and toothy. “And you, Mama!” he says, matter-of-factly, before returning to his project.

You linger for a moment longer, letting his words wrap around your heart like a fragile thread. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring—if it’ll heal or shatter you further—but for now, you let yourself hold on to the hope in his voice. Because like always, Koji is your guiding light in a world so dark, he’s the hand that pulls you out when you’re sinking too deep. If you begin to question your love for even yourself, your love for him is enough to keep you going. 

Today’s a little more warm than usual, though that doesn’t say a lot considering it’s winter and the air feels crispy; still sunny. You hold your son’s hand, guiding him along the sidewalk and to the inevitable meeting spot between father and son. You left a little early; it being 9:30. It feels slightly calmer within your mind, probably because Satoru isn’t here yet. 

You sit with Koji on the bench, letting him find placement on your lap. Adjusting his red beanie and gloves. “Are you excited, Koji?”

“I’m really excited, Mama. do you think Papa will like me?”

You coo. “Of course he will. Papa already loves you.”

“Really? Even though he’s never seen me?”

“Koji beams at your words, his small hands tugging at the ends of his gloves as if to keep himself busy. “Do you think he’ll play with me? Maybe dinosaurs or tag?” His little backpack is full of things he wishes to show his father, most of them being either dinosaur or car-related. 

You smile softly, stroking his cheek. “I think he’ll play whatever you want. Papa will want to get to know you, Koji. You’re very special to him.”

His grin widens, and he leans into your touch, the warmth of his trust settling heavily on your chest. You wish you could bottle this moment—his innocence, his excitement, his unshakable belief that everything will turn out fine.

The minutes pass as you and Koji wait for Satoru, the latter being more excited than the other. Finally, the sound of footsteps crunching in the frosty grass pulls your attention, and your heart skips. You glance up and see Satoru approaching, his tall frame unmistakable even from a distance. His coat flutters slightly in the breeze, his pace steady yet reluctant, as if he’s as nervous as you are. He’s wearing sunglasses, per usual. A voice in the back of your mind berates him for that fashion choice. “There he is,” you murmur, nudging Koji gently.

Koji hops off your lap, his tiny hand still clutching yours tightly. He squints toward the approaching figure, his expression a mix of curiosity and awe. “Is that Papa?”

You nod, your throat tightening. “That’s him, sweetheart.”

As Satoru comes closer, his steps slow, his gaze fixed on the little boy beside you. His expression is unreadable—somewhere between wonder and hesitation, like he’s trying to process the reality of seeing his son for the first time.

“Koji,” you say softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Say hello.”

Koji looks up at Satoru, his shyness momentarily overtaking his excitement. “Hi, Papa,” he says, his voice small but filled with hope.

Satoru stops a few steps away, his hands shoved in his coat pockets. His usual cocky demeanor is gone, replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable. His blue eyes flicker to you briefly before settling on Koji. “Hey there, little buddy,” he says, his voice quiet. He crouches slightly to Koji’s level, offering a tentative smile. “You must be Koji. I’m Satoru.”

Koji nods, gripping your hand tighter. “That’s me. Are you really my Papa?”

Satoru chuckles, though there’s a faint crack in the sound. “Yeah, kid. I am.”

Koji’s face lights up, and he lets go of your hand to take a step toward Satoru. “Mama said you love me already. Is that true?”

For a moment, Satoru seems at a loss for words. His gaze softens, and he nods, his voice rough with emotion. “Yeah, Koji. I do. I’ve always loved you.” The boy beams, closing the remaining distance to hug Satoru’s waist, his little arms barely wrapping around it. Satoru freezes for a second before carefully putting his hand down, his large palm resting gently on Koji’s back.

Your chest tightens at the sight, and you quickly look away, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. This is their moment, you tell yourself. A moment you’ve waited so long for, no matter how bittersweet it feels.

Koji pulls his head back, a wide and toothy smile as he regards his father. His head tilts, staring at his own reflection within the tinted shades of the glasses before Satoru reaches and pulls them over his head. It’s like a mirror, almost uncanny how similar the two look; you seem like an outsider. There’s an unspoken moment as the two continue to look at each other, as if finally saying this is really him. Their eyes are like when you place two mirrors in front of one another.

Satoru’s lips twitch upward into a faint smile as he holds the glasses out, letting Koji’s small fingers curl around the frame. “Here, try them on,” he says, his tone light but carrying a hint of something deeper—an unspoken acknowledgment of their connection.

Koji’s eyes widen with delight, and he eagerly slips the oversized glasses onto his face. They sit crookedly on his nose, far too large for his small frame, but his grin stretches even wider. “Do I look cool, Papa?” He asks as the glasses slide down his nose.

Satoru laughs softly, a sound that feels warmer than you expected. “Cooler than me, for sure. Guess I have to step up my game now.”

The boy giggles, and you watch the interaction with a bittersweet ache in your chest. This is what you’d imagined all those nights when you wondered how the two of them would get along. The way Koji lights up under Satoru’s attention is both heartwarming and a painful reminder of what’s been missing. Koji pulls the glasses off and holds them out to Satoru. “Here, you can have them back. Mama says sharing is nice.”

Satoru takes them, sliding them back over his forehead. His gaze briefly flicks to you, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he looks back at Koji. “Your mama’s right. Sharing is pretty nice.”

You clear your throat, feeling like an intruder in their growing bond. “Koji,” you say softly, “how about we sit down for a bit?”

Koji nods eagerly, pulling Satoru’s hand as he moves toward the bench. Satoru lets him lead, his expression softening as he glances down at the boy. It’s a strange sight—Satoru, who’s always seemed larger than life, brought down to such an intimate moment. As they sit, Koji climbs onto the space beside him which is in between you two, his legs swinging with restless energy. “Papa, do you like dinosaurs? Mama says I know a lot about them!”

Satoru leans back, crossing his arms as he smirks. “Dinosaurs, huh? Bet you’re smarter than me already. You’ll have to teach me everything.”

“I can do that!” Koji declares proudly, bouncing slightly in his seat. Satoru hums, his gaze shifting to you again momentarily. There’s an unspoken question in his eyes, as if silently acknowledging the effort it must have taken to bring this moment to life. It’s gone before you know it. 

You offer a small, shaky smile, unsure if it’s enough. But for now, it seems to be all you can give. Koji digs into his backpack, pulling out his dinosaur drawings and books. Koji’s small hands fumble with the zipper of his backpack, his excitement palpable as he pulls it open and begins rifling through its contents. “Wait, Papa! I gotta show you something!” he exclaims, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

Satoru leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, curiosity piqued. “Oh yeah? What’ve you got in there, buddy?”

Koji triumphantly pulls out a stack of slightly crumpled drawings, held together by a paperclip, and a well-worn dinosaur book with a cracked spine. “These are my favorite! Look!” He spreads the drawings out on Satoru’s lap, pointing at each one with his little finger. “This is a T-Rex—it’s the king of dinosaurs. And this one’s a Triceratops! It has three horns, see?”

Satoru’s gaze moves over the colorful scribbles, a mix of crayons and markers. He chuckles, tapping the corner of a particularly fierce-looking dinosaur. “This T-Rex looks like it’s about to eat someone. You’re a pretty good artist, Koji.”

Koji beams, his chest puffing out with pride. “Mama helped me with some of the colors!”

You can’t help but smile at the way he gives you credit, even as you hover a few inches away. “He did most of it himself,” you say, your voice softer than you intended.

Satoru glances at you, his expression unreadable, before turning back to Koji. “You’re really into dinosaurs, huh? You know, I think I might need some lessons. I don’t know much about them.”

Koji’s eyes widen. “You don’t? Oh, Papa, I know so much! I can tell you all about the Velociraptor! They were super smart and super fast, like this!” He hops off the bench and runs a small circle in front of them, his arms tucked close like claws.

Satoru laughs, leaning back and watching his son’s animated movements. “Fast, huh? Guess I’ve got a lot to catch up on. You think you can teach me everything in one day?”

Koji stops, his hands on his hips as he considers the question. “Maybe two days,” he says with a solemn nod, as though he’s made a grand concession.

“Deal.” Satoru holds out his pinky, and Koji eagerly hooks his smaller one around it.

You watch the scene unfold, a lump forming in your throat. It’s a simple, tender moment—a glimpse of what could have been all these years. The sight of Satoru interacting so effortlessly with Koji stirs something deep within you: a mixture of relief, regret, and longing. For now, though, you let it play out, quietly holding onto the hope that maybe—just maybe—this is the start of something better.

Watching Satoru and his little carbon copy switch from topic to topic so animatedly, laughing practically in the same tone, hopping up from the bench and making their way over to the playground a few feet away where they play tag and other parently things, it’s bittersweet. Their voices overlapping with excitement, is nothing short of surreal. They laugh at the same things, sounding so bright, carefree, and unrestrained. It’s uncanny how similar they are, from the sparkle in their eyes to the animated gestures they make when they’re especially engrossed in a story.

Satoru follows Koji without hesitation. His long legs make exaggerated strides as he pretends to struggle to keep up with Koji’s smaller but determined ones. They dart toward the playground a few feet away, the father pretending to stumble dramatically as Koji tags him with a triumphant giggle. “Gotcha, Papa!” Koji exclaims, hands on his hips in victory.

Satoru clutches his chest, feigning defeat. “Oh no! You’re too fast for me! How am I ever gonna catch you now?” Koji’s laughter fills the air, high-pitched and unbridled, and Satoru’s laughter follows—louder, but just as genuine. They move seamlessly into other "parent-y" things: Satoru helps Koji up onto the monkey bars, playfully pretends to lose at rock-paper-scissors, and even kneels in the dirt to “help” Koji build a small castle from wood chips and fallen leaves.

It’s poignant.

On one hand, this is what you always wanted for Koji: the joy of having his father present, the sense of belonging that comes with it. Seeing them together, it’s clear they’re already forming a bond—one you never doubted they’d have. But on the other hand, it’s a painful reminder of what could have been. Of all the moments you and Koji missed out on, of the milestones, Satoru wasn’t there to witness. It feels like watching a puzzle finally fall into place, except you’re the piece that doesn’t quite fit.

You sit on the edge of the bench, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying to focus on the joy radiating from Koji rather than the ache in your heart. The past five years feel heavier than ever as you watch them, your mind flipping through memories of bedtime stories, scraped knees, and birthdays spent alone. You did your best, but sitting here now, it feels like it was never adequate.

Satoru glances over his shoulder at one point, catching your eye. There’s something obscure in his expression—maybe it’s a touch of hesitation, or something softer. For a moment, you hold his gaze, unsure of what to say or do. Then, Koji calls his name again, and he’s pulled back into the moment, grinning as he lets the boy climb onto his back for a piggyback ride.

You smile faintly, blinking back the sting in your eyes. This is for Koji, you remind yourself. This is for him. Even if it hurts, even if it feels like you’re standing on the outside looking in, it’s worth it for him. Always for him. Because at the end of the day, no matter what his parents are going through, he needs Satoru just as much as you, and vice versa.

What if he starts needing Satoru more? Fathers and sons always have that special bond that can’t be replicated by mother and son, it’s like how daughters and mothers have a relationship like no other. Fathers and sons, they always seem to share a unique connection, one that feels effortless and almost predestined. The kind of connection you can never quite replicate, no matter how hard you try; and daughters naturally gravitate toward their mothers, a coalition that feels like it was written into their DNA.

But Koji’s all you have.

What if he starts asking for Satoru more? What if this new relationship between them becomes so strong, so unshakable, that you’re left standing on the sidelines? A shadow of the parent you’ve always tried to be. The thought sends a jolt of panic straight through your chest, cold and unrelenting.

What will you do then? No, you think, that can’t happen. It won’t. 

You shake your head, trying to banish the thought as quickly as it came. That can’t happen. It just can’t happen. You’ve been there for every scraped knee, every bedtime story, every nightmare that needed soothing. You’ve carried the weight of being both parents for five long years. There’s no way Satoru can just step in now and take your place, no matter how effortlessly he seems to connect with Koji. But that was because you chose that, a voice in your head reminds you.

Still, is it bad to hold your son this close to you? Fearing that he’ll be ripped away from you before you can even blink? Is that co-dependence? To want to shield him from a world that feels like it’s constantly trying to take him away from you? Is it selfish to want to keep him tethered to you, even as you know he deserves the freedom to explore this new relationship with his father?

You swallow hard, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Maybe it is selfish. Maybe it is in fact co-dependence, this need to keep him as close as possible, as if letting go even a little might mean losing him completely. But how could it not be? He’s been your everything for so long, the only light in a world that’s often felt impossibly dark. You glance at the playground again, watching as Satoru spins Koji around in his arms, both of them laughing like they’ve known each other forever. And maybe they have, in a way. Maybe some part of Koji has always been waiting for this, for his father to finally show up and fill the space you couldn’t. Wait, you know he’s been waiting for this. 

Your chest tightens, and you force yourself to take a steadying breath. This isn’t about you. It never was. Koji deserves this, and you owe it to him to put aside your fears and let him have it.

Even if it feels like it’s breaking you apart in the process.

It’s been a few hours and if possible, it’s like Koji and Satoru are best friends. That’s good, right? Satoru has always been a charming person, one you could easily find comfort in. You’ve lived that. Koji’s sweating by the time he comes over to you. “Drink water,” you gently instruct, handing him his small Spiderman water bottle, and wiping at his sweaty face and neck with the sleeve of your coat.

“Energetic little boy,” Satoru sighs in mild exhaustion as he comes over. He seems to be sweating too, cheeks flushed a nice red, chest heaving up and down. He undoes another button on his casual button-down, giving you a view of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. You catch yourself staring too intently and look away before he can say anything. 

He notices.

“Mama, Papa is so fast. I wanna be fast like him.” Koji breathes out, smiling at you, his cheeks red in similarity to his dad. 

With a light chuckle, you take his water bottle back once he’s done. “You’re already fast, Koji. But when you grow up into a bigger boy, you’ll be really fast, maybe even faster than Papa.”

“Hey,” Satoru cuts in, giving you a frown that teeters on the line of a playful pout. “He’s not there yet, let’s cross that bridge when we get there.” 

The word let’s makes your stomach twist a bit. A reminder that he does want this, he does want Koji, he does want to be a father. You entertain the idea of him wanting you, before quickly shuffling that away. 

“Papa, are you coming home with us?” Koji innocently asks, unaware of the way his two parents simultaneously stiffen. The question hangs in the air like a weight, heavy and unrelenting. Koji’s wide-eyed innocence is almost cruel in its purity, completely unaware of the way his words have sliced through the fragile peace you and Satoru have been clinging to.

Satoru’s eyes dart to yours, his expression unreadable, though the slight twitch of his jaw betrays his tension. You can feel his gaze searching for some kind of answer, some indication of how you want him to handle this. But how could you possibly guide him when you don’t even know what to say yourself?

You force a smile, though it feels more like a grimace, and gently brush Koji’s hair back under his red beanie. “Papa has his own home, sweetheart,” you say carefully, your voice soft but firm. “He’s not coming home with us today.”

Koji’s face falls just slightly, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he looks back at Satoru, his small hands clutching the hem of his sweater. “Can I see Papa again?”

Satoru crouches down to Koji’s level, his long fingers lightly ruffling the boy’s hair. “Of course, you can,” he says, his voice warm and reassuring. “I’m not going anywhere, buddy. You’ll see me again real soon.”

The promise is sincere, and it makes something in your chest ache. For Koji’s sake, you want to believe him. You want to believe that Satoru will keep his word, that he won’t somehow put his work over his own son. But a small, bitter part of you—the part that remembers how he let you go so easily all those years ago—can’t quite let go of its doubts.

Koji seems satisfied with the answer, his smile returning as he hugs Satoru tightly. “Okay! I’ll see you soon, Papa!”

As Satoru hugs him back, his eyes flicker to you over Koji’s shoulder. There’s something there, something unspoken but heavy. Guilt? Hope? Regret? You can’t tell, and you’re not sure you want to. When they finally pull apart, Satoru stands, his hands slipping into his pockets as he looks down at you. “I’ll walk you both back,” he offers.

You hesitate, your first instinct to decline, but Koji’s excited cheer cuts you off. “Yes! Papa can come with us!”

And just like that, you’re outnumbered. You force another tight smile, nodding as you gather Koji’s things. “Alright,” you say quietly.

The three of you set off together, Koji happily chatting away as he skips in front of you, completely unaware of the tension simmering just beneath the surface. Satoru walks close enough that his shoulder occasionally brushes against yours, each touch sending an unwelcome jolt through you. 

It’s a painfully wistful image, the three of you walking together like some semblance of a family. But deep down, you know it’s just that—an image. A fleeting moment in time that doesn’t change the years of distance and pain that still stretch between you and Satoru. And yet, for Koji’s sake, you try to hold onto it just a little longer. Even if it hurts.

The closer you get to your apartment, the more the houses look a little run down. Trash on the streets, beat-up cars, the way the number of people slowly dwindles down as if they know not to cross an unspoken line of the city. You suddenly feel extremely self-conscious; you know Satoru is having internal questions. 

You live here?

Is this even a safe neighborhood?

You’re raising my son in some place like this?

He stays quiet, but you know he wants to say something. He has to want to. Because Satoru was given everything growing up, all in pristine condition. He’s never had to worry about whether those were fireworks or not, he’s used to the kind of neighborhood where your neighbors are mowing their lawns at seven in the morning, greeting everyone in a happy way. 

The tension is stifling, stretched thin by the unspoken judgment you feel radiating off Satoru. You don’t dare look at him, your eyes fixed on Koji’s little form skipping ahead, blissfully unaware of the tension simmering behind him. Your cheeks burn with shame, and you hate yourself for it. This is your reality, your life. You’ve done everything you could to provide for Koji, and while it may not be perfect—or anywhere close—you’ve kept him safe, fed, and loved. But under Satoru’s unspoken scrutiny, it suddenly feels like none of that is enough.

He’s used to opulence, to security, to the kind of life where struggle is nothing more than an abstract concept. What could he possibly know about living paycheck to paycheck, about stretching every dollar, about the fear of your son asking for something you just can’t afford?

Still, his silence grates on your nerves, each step you take toward your apartment building making the tension in your chest tighten like a vice. When he finally speaks, his voice is calm, measured—but you can hear the edge in it, the careful restraint. “You’ve been here the whole time?”

You stop walking, Koji a few feet ahead now as he fiddles with a crack in the sidewalk. Turning to Satoru, you feel your stomach churn at the unreadable look on his face. His hands are still stuffed in his pockets, his posture casual, but his piercing blue eyes burn with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Yes,” you answer, lifting your chin slightly as if that could shield you from the vulnerability creeping up your spine.

“And this is where you’ve been raising Koji?” There it is. The question you knew was coming, coated in a thin veil of curiosity but laced with something deeper—concern, maybe even disappointment.

“Yes,” you say again, your voice firmer this time. “This is where we’ve been.”

Satoru lets out a slow breath, his gaze sweeping over the street, the cracked pavement, and the graffiti-stained walls. “It’s not exactly... ideal,” he says carefully, though the criticism in his tone is unmistakable.

Your fists clench at your sides, a rush of defensiveness coursing through you. “I know it’s not ideal,” you snap, your voice low but sharp. “But it’s what I could afford. It’s where we’ve made a life, and Koji is happy here. Isn’t that what matters?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he looks at Koji, who’s now crouched down and inspecting a dandelion sprouting from a crack in the sidewalk, blithely unaware of the storm brewing between his parents. Satoru then sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying you haven’t done your best,” he says, his voice softer now. “But...he deserves better than this.”

The words hit you like a slap, and you take an involuntary step back, your heart sinking into your stomach. “You think I don’t know that?” you hiss, your voice trembling. “You think I don’t hate myself every single day for not being able to give him more? I’m doing everything I can, Satoru. Everything. And if that’s not good enough for you, then maybe you should’ve been here sooner.”

“Then maybe you should’ve told me sooner,” he’s quick to quip back. 

The silence that follows is deafening, and for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other, the weight of years of pain and resentment hanging heavy between you. 

Koji’s voice breaks the tension, cheerful and oblivious. “Mama, look! A flower!”

You force a smile, blinking back the sting of tears as you walk over to crouch down to Koji’s level. “It’s beautiful, honey,” you say, brushing a hand over his soft hair. “Just like you.”

Behind you, Satoru says nothing, but you can feel his eyes on you, heavy with something you can’t quite name. And as you take Koji’s hand and lead him toward your building, you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, and what this moment means for the three of you.

You three finally get to the poor excuse of an apartment lobby, making your way to the elevator that always makes questionable sounds. Once inside, you press the 3 button, and you’re off. The doors creak shut and the small, dingy light above flickers during the ascent. During this time, you wish Koji would mask the awkwardness with his childish nature. Too bad he’s pretty tired from playing til his heart’s content, leaning his cheek against your arm. 

The elevator hums and groans as it ascends, the sound filling the uncomfortable silence that hangs between you and Satoru. Koji’s small, warm weight against your side is a comfort, but it’s not enough to dispel the tension. You steal a glance at Satoru, who stands a step away, his hands shoved into his pockets as he leans against the elevator wall. His expression is unreadable, his blue eyes fixed on the faintly glowing numbers above the doors.

You wonder what he’s thinking. Does he regret coming? Is he silently judging everything—the elevator, the building, you? You hate how self-conscious you feel, how his presence has peeled back layers of armor you didn’t even realize you had put on. Koji shifts against you, mumbling something incoherent. You brush a hand over his head, smoothing down his messy hair, and whisper, “Almost home, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, there’s a sound of a ding. Followed by another. And then another. And then another. Confused, you glance over at Satoru who subtly pulls his phone out to glance at his home screen, a frown pulling at his lips. You can’t see who’s texting, but it looks and sounds like a lot. You know you have no right asking, but you can’t help but speculate about who’s blowing up his phone, and why he looks so annoyed by it. And why he also looks like he’s trying to hide the phone from your view. 

The elevator jerks slightly as it reaches the third floor, and Koji stirs, blinking up at you sleepily. “We’re here?”

“We’re here,” you confirm with a small smile, gently nudging him upright.

Satoru stuffs his phone away again as the doors creak open, revealing the dimly lit hallway beyond. The carpet is worn and the walls are scuffed. You promptly feel another intense wave of embarrassment. You’ve grown used to this place, its imperfections blending into the background of your daily life, but seeing it through Satoru’s eyes makes you painfully aware of every flaw. “This way,” you say, your voice tight as you step out, leading them down the hall.

Koji perks up a little, his steps are more energetic as he tugs on your hand. “Papa, wait till you see my room! I have dinosaurs everywhere!”

“I can’t wait,” Satoru replies, his tone light and easy, but there’s something in his eyes as he glances around. He’s taking it all in—the peeling paint, the faint smell of dampness, the creak of the floorboards under his expensive shoes. You stop in front of your door, fishing your keys out of your pocket. The chipped paint and tarnished doorknob seem to scream your insecurities aloud.

“This is it,” you say quietly, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

Koji rushes inside, his earlier fatigue forgotten as he kicks off his shoes and heads straight for his room. “Wait here, Papa! I’ll show you my dinos!”

Satoru lingers in the doorway for a moment before stepping in, his gaze sweeping over the small living room. It’s cluttered but clean, with Koji’s toys and drawings scattered here and there. The couch is worn, the coffee table scratched, and the kitchen in the corner is cramped and outdated.

“It’s... cozy,” Satoru says after a moment, his tone careful.

You bristle instinctively, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s what I can afford.”

“I didn’t mean—” He stops, exhaling softly. “You’ve done a good job, really. Koji’s happy. That’s what matters.”

You study his face, searching for any trace of condescension or pity, but all you see is sincerity. It catches you off guard, and you look away, busying yourself with tidying up. Satoru takes a few steps further into the room, his gaze lingering on one of Koji’s drawings taped to the wall. It’s a crayon depiction of you and Koji holding hands under a smiling sun. Next to you, there’s an empty space, as if waiting for someone to be added.

He doesn’t say anything, but the slight tightening of his jaw tells you he’s noticed.

Koji rushes out with his toy dinosaurs, holding them up for his father to take. The two move to the couch, the weight of Satoru causing it to creak weirdly. Once more, Koji is giving his father a lesson about dinosaurs, their names, and what they were like—even what sounds they made.

“Do you want a drink?” you ask, looking over to the kitchen. “I have water and some juice.”

He looks up momentarily. But just as he’s about to answer, his phone rings, this time a call. The three of you look down at his phone, Koji tilting his head in confusion before focusing on making his dinosaurs fight again. However, you’re a little more focused. Seeing a name, a woman’s name, accompanied with a picture of your ex kissing a woman you’ve never seen before.

You feel your muscles stiffen, a tug at your heartstrings. As if he notices your behavior from his peripheral, he locks his phone and lets it ring, putting it back in his pocket. “Sorry.” is all he mutters before looking at Koji. “Hey, buddy.”

Koji looks up at him. “Mhm?”

“Papa has to go home now, I have work to do,” Satoru responds slowly.

“You work today? But Mama doesn’t.”

The older of the two nods. “I know, but it’s special work.”

“Special?!”

“Special.”

“Okay!” Kojis nods, grin widening. “When will you come again, Papa?”

Satoru hesitates for a moment, his eyes moving to you, then back to Koji. You notice the brief pause, the weight of his words hanging in the air. He doesn’t look at you directly, but you can feel the shift in the space between you both. “I’ll come back soon, buddy,” he says finally, ruffling his hair affectionately. “I’ll see you again. We’ll play more, alright?”

Koji’s eyes light up, and he nods vigorously. “Okay! We’ll play dinosaurs again!” His excitement bubbles over, as if nothing has changed, as if the uncertainty of the last few minutes never existed.

Satoru smiles, ruffling Koji’s hair. “You’re the best, Koji.” He stands, looking over to you now. There’s an awkwardness that lingers, like the space between you two is suddenly filled with things unsaid.

“Thanks for letting me come by and meet him,” he adds quietly, the words sincere but tinged with something you can’t quite place. His gaze flickers down to his phone again, but it’s almost as if he’s avoiding it now, like he knows the reminder of what’s going on in his life is right there.

You nod stiffly. “Of course. Thanks for spending time with him.” Your words feel distant.

Satoru turns towards the door, his steps slow. “I’ll text you about when I can come back,” he says, his voice a little more subdued than before. He opens the door, then stops, his hand resting on the handle. “Take care of him. And yourself.”

You can’t tell if the last part is meant to be comforting or a reminder, but you nod anyway, your own thoughts swirling. With that, Satoru steps out, and the door closes behind him. You hear the faint click of his shoes as he walks down the hall, and then everything goes quiet.

Koji is already back to his dinosaurs, chattering to himself, completely unaware of the complexities unfolding in the space between his parents. You stand in the living room, your gaze lingering on the spot where Satoru had been, a thousand different emotions crashing inside you. The woman’s name on his phone, the kiss, the way he shut down the moment you noticed—it all gnaws at you, but you don’t know how to confront it. How do you even begin to ask? And what would it change, anyway? Why do you even care in the first place?

You take a deep breath and walk over to where Koji is playing, forcing a smile for his sake, trying to push everything else to the back of your mind. For now, it’s just you and him, and that has to be enough.

a/n: can you guys tell i love ominous endings? ^--^

taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins @sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited @duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee @devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts @bitchycloudstrawberry @tiffyisme3760 @iheartshopping @chiara-hotel @uriahs-barn @celloccino @roronoazorosbxtchh @pseudophyllus @ratedrrrr @m1gota @tojideckmuncher @yigaclvn @sukunaslve @eiizabeth-torres @cherrythiccums0 @satorustorm @zoeyflower

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. On your way home from work, you encounter an injured superhero. You have seen his secret identity. Now what will he do about it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, verbal abuse, parental abuse, severe injuries

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One: Is that Trash or a Man?

There is calm chaos when working in the emergency room. You get used to the cacophony of beeps and alarms. Of moans, crying, screaming, and arguing. You get used to being on your feet all day and moving from task to task, from patient to patient. You get used to it because there is no other option. People need care and they need it now. You either step the fuck up or switch to a different unit. Or move to a calmer, cleaner, less crime-filled city. Calm wasn’t really my vibe. Maybe externally that’s what I portrayed, but internally my mind craves the chaos of the ER. It craves the chaos of Gotham. And the Gotham ER was an entirely different beast.

I finished nursing school about a year ago. A lot of my peers used it as an out. They went to more stable cities in New Jersey that had better funding and less chance of getting knifed in the staff parking lot. I was one of the only ones that stayed. I definitely was the only one that worked in the hospital. I couldn’t deny the demand for nurses was high, and the paychecks were even higher at Gotham General Hospital. And maybe some small pathetic part of my brain wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted Gotham to be a better place. Every day I worked. I convinced myself that how matter how shitty it got; I was making a difference. Even if it was only a handful of people in the grand scheme of things. 

I could convince myself that I mattered. That everyone mattered. That these people deserve more. They deserve better; they deserve a second, third, fourth, fifth chance. If I stopped trying to convince myself of that I know I would give up entirely. Seeing gunshot wounds, stabbings, overdoses, mutilations, burns, crushings, poisonings, beatings, day after day is a lot like erosion of the soul. Little by little it wears you down. You become jaded and jagged with time. Empathy becomes blame. Hope becomes desolate. Love becomes anger. The only thing you can do is gaslight yourself into thinking you’re making a big enough difference. That you’re helping enough people. After all, the brain can’t tell the difference between truth and irony. You tell yourself so many lies, you can start to believe them, right? 

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago 

“Dad, when is mom coming home?” My small voice asked. I was scared to make Dad yell at me again. I didn’t like it when I made him yell.

“She’s got stage four fucking cancer she is coming out of the hospital in a body bag, y/n.” 

I fought the tears that burned behind my eyes. Dad would get even angrier if he saw them. It was stupid of me to even ask. 

I felt him turn to me. His eyes bored into my skull. Quickly, I looked down at his feet. 

“Have you tried again?” He asked. His tone clipped. I knew he expected a timely answer.

Involuntarily, my fingers ruthlessly picked the skin around my nails. The sting was grounding in a way. 

“No, sir. Well yes, I have tried, but I… I failed,” the last word felt like a hot poker being placed through my throat. 

“Look at me.” Breathing became difficult, but I looked up at my father. He leaned his face close to mine. I could smell Jack wafting off him. “What good are you? What good is having healing powers if you can’t heal your sick mother?”

The simple hangnail became a chunk of missing skin. I lowered my head. Fighting back tears. 

“Sir,” my traitorous voice wobbled as I tried not to cry, “I keep trying but… I don’t think my power is that strong. I can close cuts, fix broken bones, but tumors are… hard.”

My father tilted his head back and laughed. Hard. He grabbed my wrist as quickly as a viper, “If I could put your mother’s cancer in you I would. You’re about as useful as a wet match in a dark cave.” 

I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my cheek. It felt like I was involuntarily waving a white flag.

Gotham City: Present Day

I had to be stealthy with my gift. I couldn’t heal every one of the patients to full health right away. That would lead to suspicion. But if I could help it I could stop the major damage. I would heal internal organs. Replenish blood. Reduce ten fractures to two or one. It all depended on timing and if people were watching me. 

I was walking home from the hospital. I only lived about three blocks away. I got off shift at around 20:49. I didn’t start my next stretch for another three days. And I was milking my walk home. Stopping to smell the roses or whatever. That is normally not a very smart thing to do in Gotham at night, especially as a woman. But part of me didn’t care. 

Earlier, I looked at my phone and frowned when I realized the date. 

Thursday, May 19th. 

My mom died 16 years ago today. Waves of emotion flooded my senses. Anger at myself for not remembering. Sadness that she had been gone more of my life than she had been in it. Restlessness for what my father might do or say. Some years he likes to reach out. Others he doesn’t. But most of all I was feeling reckless. Like I wanted someone to give me a reason. Obviously, I would only hurt someone to defend myself or others. But there was so much anger living in my body, part of me hoped some idiot would try something with me tonight. 

So, I walked home. Slowly. 

Normally, you keep your head down and you keep moving. You don’t look or gawk. You listen out of necessity. I was listening just because I could. It was the normal stuff. Men smoking cigarettes and catcalling. Women were offering their nightly services. Random people either praising or damning superheroes. Drug deals. Graffiti artists. Fights. And of course, people who simply were walking home from work. Gotham had range and was never boring that’s for sure. 

But something picked up on the very edge of my senses. Despite my better logic, I turned toward the very quiet sound. It could have just been rats, but it sounded so familiar. It sounded like a death rattle. The thing you hear just before shit hits the fan and the patient codes. 

Without thinking I ran down the alley toward the sound. At first, it was nothing. Just trash and rats. But then I saw it. He almost blended perfectly in with the shiny black garbage bags. His cape was the same color but reflected the light less. 

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” I walked hesitantly forward, grabbing my pepper spray just in case.

The man did not answer, he only garbled and coughed. My work brain took over my fear. Instantly I rolled the man over and began assessing him. I suppressed a gasp when I rolled him over and a familiar cowl mask came into view. It was cracked down the middle. His face was bleeding from an unknown location. His breathing was labored and staggered. 

Calmly, I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against his chest. 

Oh yeah. Batman was dying. He had several broken ribs. A pneumothorax. A bruised liver, kidney, and pancreas. His cardiac output was a joke. The man had no perfusion. 

I didn’t think. I didn’t hold back like I do at the hospital. I just healed. And healed. And healed. I healed him down to his bone-on-bone knees, sprained ankle, and fractured wrist. 

God, this guy had a lot of injuries. 

I was close to passing out by the time I was done. I had done too much, ate, and slept too little. My powers were demanding when it came to energy. If I didn’t eat or sleep within 30 minutes I was about to pass out next to bat boy himself.

I gave him one last assessment. After double-checking that he would live and that I didn’t miss anything I finally looked at his face again. 

This time I gasped. Batman was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne? I shook my head like I was clearing cobwebs. I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Much like Batman, I didn’t want people to know what I could do. The last time people knew…

Just as I turned and took a few steps I rolled my eyes at my nagging thoughts. 

What if someone sees him before he wakes up?

Reaching into my tote bag I pulled out a black medical mask. I not so gracefully MacGyvered it across his exposed face so that it was covered. And with that, I made my way home.

My cat, Hashbrown, eagerly greeted me at the door. I nearly fell asleep locking it. I bent down to pick her up and gave her a kiss on her perfect little cat head. I ripped my gross work scrubs off, threw them in the wash, and crashed on the couch in my underwear before my brain could process what happened.

I healed Batman. 

I healed… Bruce Wayne?

Part Two, Part Three

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 6

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, bruises, (someone gets punched), details of panic attacks, swearing, one "daddy" joke, pining, big Rooster warning here, mommy issues, mentions of death, insecurities

Word Count: 5860

Summary: Going over flight maneuvers for the day doesn't go as everyone planned. Somethings from your past get revealed, and you grow a little closer to Bob.

A/N: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS, this one is a little heavier and angstier, so I apologize for that. Things will get better though! Also, sorry for taking so long, I started a new job and had to take two tests so yay for me.

Masterlist

After what you are now calling the most awkward lunch ever, the day goes by… fine. The squad spends the remaining hours listening to feedback from your father, which surprisingly doesn’t ruffle anyone’s feathers too much. You pin it on the fact that it’s a Friday and everyone just wants to get out as soon as they can. You, of course, want to get out of there as well to spend time with Bob, and finally meet Sylvia. From all the pictures you’ve seen and how Bob describes her, she seems like the perfect dog.

But you’re also thinking about what Phoenix propositioned Bob with as well. It had sent you spiraling. All you can think about as Mav drones on about Payback and Fanboy’s practically perfect barrel roll, is how Bob is being set up with this woman. A woman, might you add, that he has never met or heard of before this day. You can’t help but stare straight in front of you, right at the back of Bob’s head. You’re able to see the tiniest bit of his profile, the wire frames peaking out atop his cheek. You’d like to believe you aren’t jealous. But history proves this wrong time and time again. This woman is just another thing you can add to the ever-growing list.

Bob turns his head ever so slightly, catching a glimpse of you staring out of his peripheral vision. You immediately look down at your papers, attempting to act as if you’re in deep thought about what Payback and Fanboy could have done better. Your eyes stay still on the paper as your brain moves a million miles a minute. God, Bob. Why did he have to be such an amazing person? You would have been able to move on if you had gotten to know him and realized he had a crappy personality, but unfortunately that is not the case. Now you’re stuck feeling jealous over some random woman who has no idea the implications of her attending Phoenix’s party next weekend. You chance a glance back up to Bob’s face and find that he’s already turned back to look at you.

“Mantis”, he whispers as he motions his head to the front of the room, right where your dad is staring you down.

“Sir”, you say, straightening up in your own seat. He raises his brow in a warning, as you shift your attention to the screen, seeing now that your own flights are up for critique.

“Thank you. Now that I have your attention, I have to say I am seeing noticeable room for improvement.” He turns back from the screen, pointing to where you took too sharp of a turn, or where you needed to slow down. You write down everything he says, even as the tips of your ears begin to burn in embarrassment. He is your captain, you know this. Everyone else knows this, but they also know what it feels like to get scolded by a dad. And you can’t help but see the similarities at this moment. He finally finishes after what feels like an eternity as he looks back at you, “Any questions?”

“No sir”, you respond bluntly. He was being nitpicky, for once in his life, and you weren’t sure what caused it at this moment. But you’re still a little confused at what you thought was a perfect run.

“Alright Rooster, you’re up.” You glance over to Rooster’s hard stare as he brings his gaze to the front of the room. You cannot wait to see your dad rip him a new one. It’s what he deserves, and honestly you could fly circles around this guy. “I have to say, I am thoroughly impressed with your work today.” Wait, what? Rooster’s face softens into a slight grin as your brow furrows in his direction. Folding your arms across your chest you sink back into your chair, watching as your dad gives Rooster a glowing review. An undeserved one in your opinion. And then Mav decides to tell you one of the worst ideas he’s ever had.

“Single-seaters, I’m gonna put you in groups and you’re going to go over the notes I gave you to hopefully help you execute these maneuvers better. Two-seaters, you’re going to do the same, but with your pilots and your WSO’s.” At this point, you’re just hoping you’re with Coyote or Fritz, hell, even Hangman. Mav looks down at his podium, going over the list before announcing them, “Fritz and Coyote, you’re a pair. And then we’ll have Rooster, Hangman, and Mantis as a group.”

“Jesus Christ”, you mumble under your breath. Was he trying to kill you? As the rest of the pairs move around to find places to talk, you very lazily turn your head in Rooster’s direction as he does the same to you. Hangman is standing in the aisle, looking back and forth at the both of you, very confused as to the standoff happening before him. You really don’t want to get up and walk over to Rooster. It may seem stupid, and childish, but you are not going to let him think you’re just going to waltz back over to him. Hangman breathes out a laugh, shaking his head at the two of you, ultimately taking the seat next to you. It makes you smile inside watching Rooster roll his eyes as he pulls up a spare chair.

“If any of you need me, I will be in a meeting with Cyclone and Warlock, so please direct any concerns to Hondo”, Mav announces as he points to Hondo giving a small wave in the back of the room.

“Well”, Hangman starts, “Since daddy-dearest gave Rooster a perfect score, I guess that just leaves you and me, Mantis.”

“No surprise there”, you mutter as you start looking through your notes. Rooster scoffs from the other side of Hangman, prompting you to look up at him. “What?”

“Nothing, just didn’t realize you’d be so bitter about someone on your team doing well. But then again I shouldn’t be surprised.” Adding a smile onto the end of his sentence he goes back to sorting through his notes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just think that when you have to rely on each other, you should be happy when someone does well. Especially when it’s our lives at stake here.”

“Well, I think giving someone confidence in their lack-luster abilities is dangerous, to everyone.” You say, folding your arms.

“And I completely agree”, Rooster nods, “that’s why Mav was honest with you. If he inflated that false confidence anymore than it already is, your head might have exploded.” Hangman raises his brows at the exchange before him. Why your dad thought it was a good idea to pair the three of you together, he’ll never know.

“Do you guys wanna get back to-”

“Oh, I have false confidence?”

“Or not”, Hangman finishes his sentence after being interrupted. Interrupted, not heard. It doesn’t really matter at this point while he tries to fade into his seat, waiting for this argument to be over and done with.

“He’s literally just blowing smoke up your ass, so you’ll ‘believe in yourself’”, you add in air-quotes,  “or whatever bullshit he made up. Or maybe he just wants to get on your good side to make up for lost time.” You’re vaguely aware of your own voice raising as everyone else’s conversations start dwindling and they turn to your group.

“Are you still on that? I thought we were past it already.” He responds, visibly agitated by your persistence.

“No, Rooster, you two got past that. I haven’t heard a goddamn word from you on the matter, or an apology. So no, I’m not past that.”

“Oh do you really wanna start this here?” Rooster asks, daring you.

“Oh I really do.” You respond just as sure. “So whenever you’re ready to apologize you know where to find me.”

“Everything alright over here?” Hondo has since made his way over to your group as he stands to your right. You obviously hadn’t noticed being too caught up in whatever this is.

“You think you deserve an apology?” Rooster’s voice raises, caught off guard.

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I? You just left, and even though I was twelve I still tried to get in contact with you for six years after the fact.”

“And you think I should be sorry for that? For the fact that I didn’t answer the phone when you tried to rub it in my face that he just let you go to the Academy?”

“You think after you he just let me go?!”

“Of course I do! That’s the only reason you’re sitting in this room with the rest of us!” Rooster stands right as you do, now physically looking down on you between the barrier that Hangman creates. He’s pushing on Rooster’s chest, while a hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Is that what you’re angry about? You’re jealous of me?” You ask incredulously, still not lowering your volume.

“Why the FUCK would I be jealous of you?”

“Rooster” Phoenix warns him. He continues anyway.

 “Jealous of the fact that your Navy connections bought you into the TopGun program in the first place, into the Academy? Huh?!” You almost flinch as he gets closer to your face, but you hold steady, chest heaving in anger still, but not backing down. “Or is it the fact that you think I’m jealous of your family, cause that sure as hell isn’t-”

“That is ENOUGH.” Hondo announces. “You are supposed to be professionals, how many of these meetings are going to end in fights?!” Your stony gaze falls from Rooster to the hand on your shoulder. You recognize the long fingers as Bob’s, he squeezes your shoulder lightly as if asking if you’re ok. You’re not, but the fact that he’s here and has your back has you taking a deep breath in, deeper than any you’ve been able to take since Rooster opened his big mouth.

“Ya know”, Hangman starts, “back in the olden Navy days they would have handed you boxing gloves and let you fight it out from there.” His attempt to relieve the tension falls flat as the rest of the team gauges if the two of you are actually done fighting.

“Yeah well”, Rooster responds, “From what I remember Mantis does a better job taking a punch than throwing one. Just ask her mom.” And just like that your breaths grow shallow again as your stomach drops. An audible breath leaves your mouth as everyone’s eyes fall from Rooster to you, and as much as you try to remain stoic, your bottom lip begins to wobble as your mouth falls open slightly. There’s an immediate sense of remorse in Rooster’s eyes as he realizes what he just said. But much like everything else he’s done, it’s too late. The damage has already been done.

“ROOSTER”, Phoenix scolds him. You don’t even stay to hear the rest of it, turning on your heel you leave the room, not being able to stand the looks of pity from your teammates. Once in the hallway you make your way to the women’s locker room. Each footstep seems louder than the next. The closer you get, the heavier the tears start to form on your lash line, only falling once you slam the door open and swing the curtain closed in a shower stall. Sliding down the wall of the cubicle, you hug your knees to your chest, attempting to silence the cries that are only coming naturally with the tears. It’s getting harder to breathe, even as you attempt to take large breaths. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Phoenix yells as she pushes Rooster. No one dares to stop her as she continues to berate him. Bob is absolutely stunned at the information Rooster just dropped, but is shaken out of his thoughts as he looks at the door you just fled through. By the way you rushed out of here, he thinks you’d like to be alone, but on the off chance you need someone, he slips out of the room to go find you. He passes the men’s locker room and heads to the women’s hoping that’s where you escaped. Knocking on the door, he slowly opens it.

“Hello? Is anybody in here?” He doesn’t receive an answer, but he can hear someone crying who he can only assume is you. “Mantis, are you ok?” Still no answer. “Mantis, I’m coming in” With his eyes glued to the floor he follows the sounds of your sniffling and sobs until he reaches you. “Hey, I’m opening the curtain, ok?” He slowly slides back the curtain to find you in the corner of the stall, face tucked between your knees as you attempt to take in ragged breaths. He’s immediately on his knees in front of you and his heart breaks at the sight. He thinks you know he’s there, but he can’t be sure. It’s obvious you’re in the middle of a panic attack and he doesn’t want to scare you, so he gently rests a hand on your knee.

“Mantis, can you hear me?” You raise your head at his voice, revealing a very red and splotchy face as tears continue to fall out of your eyes. Your breathing is still very ragged as you grip his hand on your knee as if he would float away if you let go. He would never dream of doing such a thing, but he grips your hand right back.

“It’s ok, I just need you to breathe for me, alright?” You nod your head at his words as he demonstrates taking deep breaths in, holding, then letting them out. You’re attempting to follow them as your head continues to swim, taking note of this he moves your hand from your knee to over his heart, pressing it against his chest. “I’m right here”, he tells you as you continue to follow his breathing. The soothing nature of his heartbeat helps to bring you back down to earth. And little by little you start to feel the rest of your body come to its senses. It starts with your fingertips, feeling the pressure of Bob’s rough hand pressing it against his steadily beating chest, as the feeling crawls up your arms and legs. The tears begin to subside and all that’s left is the dried tracks they left as they swam down your cheeks.

Bob remains in front of you the entire time, even as you realize just how close the two of you are, he doesn’t falter. You’re now acutely aware that your hand is still sandwiched between his hand and chest, your fingers instinctively wiggle against his as you finger the material of his flight suit.

“Are you gonna be alright if I leave you here for a sec?” You nod, not daring to make eye contact. “Ok, I’ll be right back.” He places your hand back against your knee as you stare at the spot he once occupied, your head beginning to ache. There are still so many emotions going on, but your body is starting to feel the after effects.

Bob’s quite literally back in under a minute as he assumes his previous position, only now holding a bottle of water. He opens it for you as you graciously accept it, taking a couple small sips to start out with. You manage a small “Thank you” as you hand the bottle back to Bob. Embarrassment begins to overtake your system as you curl back in on yourself.

“Are you feeling any better?” You nod your head slightly, still avoiding his gaze.

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Any time”, and though other people would pass it off as a way of Bob trying to say you’re welcome, you know he genuinely would help you any time you needed him. You’re still not sure what to say, so you don’t say anything. Bob moves to sit next to you against the wall, not breaking the silence.

“You don’t have to stay here with me”, you manage to croak out.

“I know.” He says so sure. “I just need to make sure you’re gonna be ok.” You let a deep sigh out through your mouth as you lean your head back against the tile wall. At this moment you’re just feeling drained. That’s what panic attacks usually do. You were just so mad at him, and then he shared one of your deepest, darkest secrets in front of all of your coworkers. You had maybe thought you’d be able to patch up your relationship with him if he owned up to his mistakes, but now? You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get past this. If your dad wants to spend so much time with Rooster, let him. You don’t want to see his face ever again, which you know is a big ask, knowing that you have to work together. Maybe you should just put in a transfer, it’s not like you see your dad a lot outside of work anyway. You’d miss most of these people more than they’d miss you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Bob gingerly grabbing your wrist and facing your palm upwards, and reaching into his pocket he retrieves something, laying it down in your hand. He lets it go and you miss his touch as he rests his hands on his knees. Looking down at your palm, you realize that he’s left a single penny behind.

“What’s this?”

“A penny”

“I can see that”, you smile slightly, “what’s it doing in my hand?”

“This may shock you, but when I was younger, I wasn’t much of a talker. Sometimes it was like pullin’ teeth to get me to talk-”

“I know the feeling”

“Yes, well, my Grandpa noticed how it didn’t come easy to me. So sometimes when he noticed I had a lot going on he would hand me a penny, and without having to ask, I would just start talkin’”

“A literal penny for your thoughts” you realize outloud. You grasp the penny, staring as you hold it between your fingers.

“It doesn’t mean you have to say anything”, Bob rushes out, “Just- if you want, you’re free to share your thoughts with me. No judgment” This is quite possibly one of the sweetest things anyone has ever shared with you, and staring at the penny you know you’re safe with Bob. Safe to share your feelings, safe from… anything really.

“I really want to tell Rooster to go fuck himself.” Bob gives you a small chuckle.

“Well, I think Phoenix may be doing that as we speak.” Good, you think to yourself. You shift the coin between your fingers and thumb before deciding to speak again.

“I was so sad, for so many years. And now I’m just starting to feel angry. Every time I see his face, I just can’t stop myself from laying into him.” It’s quiet for a moment as Bob waits to let you continue. “I don’t think I’m asking for too much, or that I went too far. And he just- God, he just laid it all out there for everyone.” Bob notices your fist beginning to clench and he slowly reaches over to grasp your hand in his.

“I’m sorry. And if it means anything, I don’t think you’re asking for too much.” You hadn’t even realized you started crying again until Bob’s thumb was swiping a stray tear away. Your breath catches in your throat and his hand moves away quickly, as if touching your face had hurt him. He clears his throat. “Were you going to wait for your dad, or did you want me to take you home?”

“Home? I thought I was supposed to meet Sylvia today?”

“Oh, yeah”, Bob chokes back, surprise coating his features, “We can go to… my place then?”

“If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course it is”, Bob says almost too quickly. “I mean”, he coughs, “Sylvia, she would love to meet ya”. And then he gives you a smile. You know the one, it’s closed mouth but it causes his cheeks to scrunch up beneath his eyes, taking over half his face. It’s almost enough to make you forget about this whole day.

He stands, offering you his hands to help you off the ground. He doesn’t leave you immediately at first, he just stands in front of you as if assessing the situation. Weighing his options. Glancing down at his watch, he looks at the door, “I think everyone should have gone home for the day. But if you want, you can wait in here while I grab my stuff?” You nod, taken aback at his thoughtfulness once again.

He leaves for a short bit while you grab your own bag from your locker. He knocks on the door once again, signaling his return as you make your way through the halls. The setting sun illuminates the parking lot and glares at you through the glass doors. Bob opens the door allowing you to go first as you spot his truck and make your way to it. The ache in your head is starting to come back and you can’t wait to take your hair out of the tight bun it’s in now.

“Mantis!”, you turn around as someone calls your name and immediate regret fills your system. You roll your eyes at the sight of Rooster walking toward you as you turn to keep walking, Bob right behind you.

“Mantis!”, he yells again as if you didn’t hear him the first time. “Come on Bug!” You stop in your tracks, rage once again emanating from your pores. Turning on your heel, you drop your bag onto the asphalt. This catches Rooster by surprise as he stops right before you.

“Do NOT call me that”, you grit through a clenched jaw as you point your finger at him. You can’t help the way your arm shakes in anger.

“Sorry”, he lets out dejectedly, placing his hands on his hips. Even if your brow wasn’t furrowed from squinting in the sun you have a feeling you’d still be staring at him with the same expression.

“Oh, so you do know that word”, you scoff. Rooster bites his tongue as he looks down at his feet. “And I’m not in the mood to talk, so save it for someone else who doesn’t want to hear it.” In the distance you’re aware of Bob throwing his bag in the back of his truck as he grabs yours and does the same. 

“I just want to-”

“I told you, I’m not in the mood”, you move to turn to Bob’s truck as Rooster reaches out and grabs your wrist.

“Mantis, c’mon-” The grip on your wrist sends your senses into overdrive as anger takes over. As he tugs on your wrist, you turn and collide your free fist into his face. It’s funny really, you weren’t aiming for anything in particular but you land it right on his cheekbone. It was enough force and surprise to knock him backwards

“Jesus Christ!” he shouts, grasping his face in his hand. Tears begin to well up in your eyes for the second time today as you shake out your hand. “What the hell is your problem?” He yells at you.

“Carole would be so disappointed in you”, you rasp out, cradling your hand. You stare Rooster down as he looks up at you in shock, until he can’t stand to anymore and tears his eyes away. Bob’s standing right behind you as you turn and bump into his chest.

“Are you ok?” he asks, lightly resting his hands on your shoulders.

“No”, you whisper, “Let’s just get out of here.” You don’t dare to spare a look back at Rooster, but Bob does as he leads you to his truck. The man is standing at his full height now with his shoulders slumped. The skin just under his eye is already starting to swell as he watches you walk away this time.

The ride back to Bob’s is quiet as you stare out the window. The radio’s humming quietly in the background and he doesn’t dare disrupt the silence, so he takes a glance at your hand. The skin around your knuckles is slightly irritated from the force you punched Rooster with, but other than that it doesn’t look too bad. He knew you were tough, but he never thought he’d see you punch someone in the face. If it had to be someone, he was glad it was Rooster though. That guy had it coming, especially after what he said today. You’re still staring out the window with a look of indifference, and you still had the penny he gave to you earlier, but you hadn’t said anything about what Rooster had revealed. So, he wasn’t going to push it until you were ready or wanted to talk about it.

You’re pulled out of your trance once the truck stops in Bob’s driveway. He grabs both of your bags before you’re able to grab yours, but he stops as he’s about to open the door.

“Just a warning, it’s probably a mess in here, so I apologize.”

“I have a feeling that your definition of a mess is my definition of clean.” He gives you a slight smile as he opens the door.

“Only one way to find out.” Opening the door you find, just as you suspected, an immaculate house. There may be a couple dog toys lying around, but that’s about it. You’re startled a little bit as Bob whistles, “Syl! Come ‘ere girl!” You smile at the accent coming through, and then the thump of something on the second floor running down the stairs. Sylvia comes barreling down the hallway as fast as her claws against the hardwood allow her. Bob is immediately on his knees in front of her, scratching behind her ears and speaking in what you can only describe as baby-talk, “Oh Syl, I’m so sorry. Daddy was gone for such a long time today wasn’t he?” You’re attempting to hold back a laugh, eyebrows shooting up at his use of the word “daddy”.

Sylvia’s tail stops wagging as she notices you standing behind her dad. Bob looks back at you and then at the dog, “Now Sylvia, this is Mantis. Mantis is a very good friend of mine, and I know she has a funny name, but you’re just gonna have to get over that, ok?” You can’t help but chuckle at how talkative he is with her, and even as you stare at her enormous brown eyes you immediately crave her approval. You start to kneel down next to Bob, but before you’re able to get on your knees Sylvia is cowering away and running back upstairs. You huff out in frustration as you stare at her retreating form.

“Hey, it’s alright”, Bob explains, “Like I said, she’s kinda skittish, and it takes a little bit for her to warm up to new people.” You nod in understanding as Bob leads you to his living room. It’s fairly simple, and again very clean. Bob tells you to take a seat as he grabs you a glass of water from the kitchen directly behind the living area.

“So daddy, huh?” The glass just about slips out of Bob’s hand upon hearing your use of the word. He swallows, taking a moment to collect himself.

“Uhm”, he coughs, “Yeah, I don’t know. It just sort of happened.”

“It’s cute”, you smile to yourself. Bob returns with a glass of water and an ice-pack wrapped in a kitchen towel. He awkwardly offers it to you as you accept it.

“For your hand”

“Oh yeah, thanks.” You lift it in appreciation before placing it on your knuckles. Wincing at first at the sensitivity. Bob sits a little farther down on the couch and watches you fiddle with something in your pocket. You tentatively reach for the penny, turning it over before handing it over to Bob. He laughs through his nose, nodding as a smile plays on his face.

“Come on, it’s your turn now.” Bob begins to chew on his bottom lip, avoiding your eyes. “If you want to ask me about it, it’s ok”, you let out more solemnly. He glances over at you, huffing out a sigh.

“How’s your hand?” He decides on, making you laugh.

“Not what I meant, but it’s ok. A little stiff.” You get the sense that he wants to know, but is getting shy with you again. And even though he doesn’t ask, you get an overwhelming urge to tell him. Taking in a shaky breath, you start in the only place you know where to, “Do you know how I got my call-sign?” He shakes his head.

“Although, I do recall you telling Hangman you’d bite his fucking head off” The two of you laugh. Sylvia, just as sneaky as her dad, pops her head up out of nowhere, resting it on Bob’s thigh. His hand instinctively goes to pet her head as you try not to acknowledge her existence, hoping she’ll make her way over to you.

“That’s what I like to tell people. But, no. When I was a kid, I was deathly afraid of insects, still am if I’m being honest. But, there was one incident”, you smile at the memory, “Where I was at the park, and I turned to look behind me and there was a praying mantis, just sitting on my shoulder. I, of course, freaked out and was trying to get it off me, but it wasn’t until Carole- Bradley’s mom, calmed me down where she was able to carefully pick it up and take it off me.” You’re laughing a little at this point, and Bob can’t help but smile at your own.

“She got me to stop crying and explained that it was just a little bug”, you swallow, staring down at your iced hand, “like me.” Bob’s face softens as he remembers Rooster’s words. “That became her nickname for me, and when she died and Bradley left, nobody called me it again until-” You cut yourself off, choked up just talking about Carole, and remembering how Bradley used to be. Before he was Rooster.

“Anyway, I hadn’t had a run-in with a praying mantis until flight school. I was out on a hike with the rest of my class, and what do I see on my shoulder when I turn around? A damn praying mantis. I screamed again, just like the first time, and everyone thought it was hilarious. So, the name Mantis stuck. It just felt like…” you struggle to find the word.

“Fate”, Bob finishes the sentence for you. You look up and find his eyes trained on you. Giving him a slight smile, you nod your head.

“Yeah, exactly.” Your eyes remain on his, and your heart beats a little faster. “So I’m not exactly bug, but that’s ok, because I don’t think anyone but Carole can call me that. Even if Bradley used to-” You look away, only to find Sylvia standing between you and Bob. Having must inched her way closer while you spoke, “I don’t want him to anymore.”

“I think that makes a lot of sense, and I also think Mantis suits you.” You smile and dare to reach your hand out to Sylvia, who simply sniffs the approaching limb. She nudges her nose closer, sniffing your palm as you very gently scratch her ear, much like Bob did earlier. She leans into it, daring to walk closer to you. Taking in a deep breath, you let it out before you lose the courage.

“It wasn’t a regular thing”, Bob’s loving gaze at Sylvia falls as he looks up at you, “Just when she got really angry, or I reminded her too much of my dad I guess.” Your hand stops petting Sylvia as you stare at the glass of water on the coffee table, the condensation dripping down onto the coaster Bob thoughtfully placed underneath it. “Carole and my dad found bruises a couple different times, but I was too embarrassed to tell them how they got there. But she knew. I guess Bradley must have known, too, or he wouldn’t have brought it up today. I think they tried to do something about it, but they wouldn’t grant full custody to my dad because of his work, and… I don’t really know what happened after that.” Sylvia’s head now rests on your thigh, much like it did earlier with Bob. You grant her a small smile, moving your hand once again to give her some attention.

You don’t have to look up to know that Bob’s staring at you. Your nose starts to tingle, alerting you to the fact that tears were starting to form in your eyes. “It got better when she remarried, her focus wasn’t on me as much anymore. She was busy with her husband and his kids.” You scrunch your nose, attempting to rid yourself of the feeling, but it’s no use. The tears start to fall and you hastily wipe them away with your free hand. “Jesus, sorry”, you say as you give him a watery laugh.

“Don’t be sorry”, your tears continue to fall, “None of this is your fault.” Bob’s words hit you deep as you stare at the ceiling, willing these tears to stop, but they just won’t. “Can- Can I hug you?” You look over at Bob and give him a fast nod of your head.

“Yes please”, you whisper. He moves along the couch to get closer to you, and then wraps you up in both his arms as you do the same. Even through both of your flight suits, Bob is warm as you melt into him. Your eyes close as you breathe him in. He smells like sweat and jet fuel from being in a plane all day, and you’re sure you smell the same. It’s comforting nonetheless.

Bob just wants to pick you up and take you far away from here. Away from everyone that dares to make you hurt. He feels you sag against him and he pulls you just the tiniest bit closer as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. He’s realizing now it’s been a while since he’s hugged someone like this, and maybe it’s the case for you, too. His hand goes to soothe along your back and your eyes flutter shut at the motion. He remembers you saying your mom wasn’t too happy when she found out about the Naval Academy, and he doesn’t want to think about what happened after the fact.

“I’m sorry you have to go through all that”, he whispers just above your ear.

“It’s alright, things are starting to look up”, you sniffle, pulling him just a little bit tighter.

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

[pagannatural]

1.20

Dead Man’s Blood

-Dean offers to drive to ny so that Sam can see Sarah (the art dealer) again and Sam shuts that shit down right away. Dean only encourages Sam to have Dean-sanctioned relationships and sex. Dean’s Freudian nonsense is that he likes to pressure Sam into being involved with women, be certain that he’s the reason Sam is doing it, and then convince himself it’s good for Sam. I don’t think there’s anything malicious in this pattern, I think Dean is just operating at a high level of cognitive dissonance and avoids question his own motivations and feelings.

-Dean manhandles Sam away from John, de-escalating, then things escalate again and Sam and John grab at each other and it looks like they’re going to fight so Dean changes tactics. He forces them apart and puts himself physically in front of Sam, telling John to back off. First he tries to get Sam away, then he stands in front of him to protect him and waits until John walks away.

And now seems like a good time to talk about the fact that John was probably violent when they were kids. They don’t seem particularly scared of him, and they seem all to genuinely love each other and be able to find moments of ease and humor, so it was probably more a violence born of dysfunction than systematic abuse. There’s enough evidence for this that it’s safe to assume. For example, John says “I stopped being your father and I became your drill sergeant,” and he’s a vet, so he probably means that pretty literally and that in itself is a brutal way to treat children. In season 6, when Dean is explicitly trying not be become his father but falling more and more into re-enacting John’s behaviors, he slaps Ben across the face to try getting him out of shock. In s7 teenage Sam says that his dad has a temper and you wouldn’t want to see him after he’s been drinking. And then of course there’s this scene.

Neither Sam nor John see Dean’s diffusion of the situation as unusual. He’s done it before. Dean’s primary order is to look after Sammy. So I can’t really see him letting John get escalated with Sam, especially with how comfortable Sam is with Dean protecting him.

As codependent as Dean is with John, it seems like Sam is the subject on which he challenges him. He doesn’t have to break from his role as John’s surrogate co-parent and partner or as Sam’s (everything, but first and foremost) protector to do this, so it’s not really even him breaking rank. Dean follows John’s orders because he wants to keep Sam safe in the first place, so it makes perfect sense that this is normal for him. His motivations revolve around Sam.

-Sam, pacing, waiting for Dean to return from the morgue: “it shouldn’t be taking this long, I should go help.” Sam worrying about Dean part 497.

-John uses the vampire’s mate as a hostage because they mate for life. Immediately after this, a vampire uses Sam as a hostage to make Dean back off. It takes one to know one.

-When John kills the vampire Sam stumbles into Dean, who catches him. Dean holds onto Sam until the vampire dies, which takes a moment. Maybe even after that.

-John tells the boys they disobeyed a direct order and Sam says yes sir and Dean says “but we saved your ass.”

Sam can’t believe Dean said that. He looks afraid of what John will do.

Dean showed Sam that he can stand up to their dad too, and not just when it comes to de-escalating situations where Sam is involved- he stands up for himself.

This is important because it’s Dean breaking away from John and coming into his own. Sam has come to understand and even appreciate Dean’s obedience to John, but he still couldn’t choose to be with Dean rather than living a normal life when Dean was following John without question. Now Sam can believe in Dean’s ability to break the pattern Sam couldn’t live with. They’re a team.

[meraki-yao]

Dropping in to say your crying at the vows Payneland was SUPERB! Is it too late for 🤬 Payneland? If so no stress at all! Your writing is awesome!

Hi! Oh my God, thank you so much! I'm glad you liked the last one! Thank you for the prompt and sorry for this being late!

🤬Argument with a family member

This is a human/alive AU by the way!

TW: Paul Rowland being a homophobic, abusive asshole, homophobic slurs

Charles freezes, his fiancé’s hand tightening on his arm. Standing in front of their wedding venue entrance, arguing with the security, is his father who he hasn’t seen in years. After struggling through university on his own and meeting Edwin Payne, he took off and ran far away from home, cutting all contact with his parents while building a new home with the love of his life. A few years down the line, he and Edwin created a cipher to communicate with his mother. But throughout all of this, they have deliberately steered clear of his father. His father, who beat him senseless; his father, who locked his lanky teenage self in the basement that he lived in since he was five; his father, who nearly ripped his pierce off his ear, calling him homophobic slur years before he came to terms with his bisexuality. After Charles confessed his trauma after a particularly violent nightmare, Edwin had held him and promised that he would never let Paul Rowland near him ever again. Charles had gripped his boyfriend’s waist and promised the same: he cannot ever let his father lay a hand on sweet, gentle, loving Edwin. But he’s here now, at their rehearsal dinner, and he can’t help but freeze at the sight. Why? How? What is he doing here? How did he find him out after so long? What do I do now? Charles’ eyes meet his dad’s and the next thing he knows, Paul Rowland is pushing the security guard to the ground and comes marching their way, the rage on his face horrifyingly familiar. He has to move, he has to leave, he has to protect Edwin— But he can’t move. He’s frozen in place, legs turned to jelly. He wants to scream and cry but only quick puffs of breaths come out. Just before his dad can shout a curse at them, Edwin suddenly steps forward, pushing Charles behind him. “Excuse me, sir.” He says eerily calmly, which is a sign that he’s actually angry. “I don’t believe you’re invite to this function. You are trespassing right now, please kindly leave the premise before we have to call the authorities.” “Move out of the way, you fag. I’m here to talk to my son.” Paul Rowland growls, and Charles flinches, he wants to grab Edwin’s hand and run. “As you can clearly see, Charles does not want to talk to you. Now, leave.” Edwin continue, not phased by the slur. “CHARLES! YOU FUCKING USELESS PIECE OF SHIT, HIDING BEHIND A FAIRY?” The familiar roar rings in Charles’ ear. He can’t fucking breathe oh God oh fuck— BAM! Edwin, his sweet Edwin who has always gravitated to words, who he has tried to get into boxing without much success, punches his dad square in the jaw. Both Rowlands stare at him in shock. “YOU FUCKER! HOW DARE YOU—” “No, you listen here.” Edwin states, a dangerous edge in his voice. “We have given you multiple warnings. I will not allow you to come here, ruin our joyous occasion and do any harm to my fiancé, physical or otherwise. The police can deal with you now, we’re done here.” He lays a hand on Charles’ back, gentle despite the situation, and leads him away as the police who have finally arrived come and pull his dad away for questioning. They’ll need to provide their recount too, but Edwin insisted that they’ll deal with that later. They enter the dressing room of the venue where Charles collapses onto a chair. Edwin kneels before him, hand cupping his cheek, thumb swiping under his eyes. “Charles, please tell me what’s going on.” “No, it’s nothing, I’ll be fine I— Holy shit, Edwin, you punched my dad!” “Yes well, I very well couldn’t stand there and let him cause you even more distress, and he was clearly not going to listen to a word I say, sometimes actions do speak louder than words.” Charles pulls Edwin into his lap and wraps his arm around his waist, nose buried in his neck, breathing the familiar scent. Edwin’s hand goes to his curls as he presses kisses on to the top of his head. God, how lucky is he, to have such a wonderful person to call his? “We’ll be alright, my love,” Edwin whispers. “I promise, we’ll be alright.” Charles has never doubted him.

[lianobody]

Yandere platonic hashiras.

When you were born your mom taught you were the most precious thing on earth until the baby daddy walked in the room screaming “I don’t want this baby I’m leaving you she’s an accident!” Your mom cried and she started to grow hate towards you. Over the past 9 years your mom treated you like shit, you had to learn how to cook for yourself and you needed to let her abuse you but otherwise she treated you like a ghost. You had a shitty life and you were only 9 but yet you still loved your mom. One day at night while she was abusing you a mysterious person came in. They had weird features like a horn. The person was so fast for your eyes you backed away in a corner even though your mom told you to sit still when she’s abusing you. Your mom looked at you furious and she was about to open her mouth until..! The mysterious person killed your mom and one shotted her! You backed away more in the corner but you tripped and started to cry. The mysterious person chuckled until.

2 people a boy with black hair and a mask and a girl with pink to green hair was running to your mom’s house the boy killed the demon when he arrived and the girl came up to you saying “was that your mom?” You nodded crying. The girl said. “my name is Mitsuri kanroji and the guy with the snake is Obanai iguro” you looked at her with tears in your eyes. Both Mitsuri and Obanai were looking at you. You didn’t say anything that only caused Mitsuri to get worried and obanai to get mad you weren’t listening to Mitsuri. Obanai said “Talk back to her you should respect your elders” You sobbed wiping your tears saying “M-my m-mom a-abused me. I-I still miss her” both Obanai and Mitsuri were shocked. Obanai started to get flashbacks from his past. Mitsuri told Obanai “We can’t just leave this child alone! It will be to cruel!” Obanai went up to her and patted her shoulder saying “let’s adopt her as her parents” both you and Mitsuri were shocked but after a few seconds Mitsuri nodded saying “Ok Obanai I agree but we need to make sure we protect her she’s to innocent for this world. Let’s raise her as a demon slayer as Soon as we go back” Obanai nodded but he turned to you asking you “whats is your name… s-sw-sweetheart” Mitsuri likes Obanai was so sweet to you. M-my nam-name is [Name] sir! Obanai nodded and went up to your face. “Don’t call me sir call me dad.” You nodded. Mitsuri picked you up and carried you all the way back but you and the other 2 didn’t notice your emotions were slowly draining away.

When you 3 arrived at Obanai’s estate Obanai said “Oh I forgot to introduce you to my snake his name is Kaburamaru. Your emotionless self went to pet him and he enjoyed it. Obanai smiled thru his mask but you and Mitsuri obviously didn’t notice. Mitsuri excused herself before she spoke “I love your relationship with our daughter but we should train her now!’’ Obanai agreed with her statement “We should let her use a real sword” Mitsuri had a worried about expression while you had a emotionless one. Obanai carried you. You were really light as you barley eaten this week because they was no food in your house. Obanai looked at Mitsuri and said “I have a spare one let’s train her.”

They trained you, you did final selection and 2 years passed on and you 11 now.

Mitsuri held Obanai’s hand causing him to blush “can we introduce our daughter to the other hashira please? They would love to see her” Obanai couldn’t refuse to her in his state right now he nodded blushing. While you were at the the area where all the hashira were Gyomei sensed your presence. I sense another. All the hashira took there swords out because it was still night until they saw you. They were confused why Obanai and Mitsuri had a child with them and why Obanai was carrying you as he wasn’t really fond with kids. Shinobu asked with a smile on her face. “now now Mitsuri why do you have a child with you and there eyes are without spark~” Mitsuri screamed excited and said “THIS IS ME AND OBANAI’S DAUGHTERS” They had a shocked expression. All the hashira taught Mitsuri and Obanai did the deed. Gyomei said “I am happy you guys have an beautiful child by there presence they are 11.” All the hashira calm down because Mitsuri wouldn’t get pregnant at that young age right? Obanai said “I know what all of you guys are thinking.. she’s adopted don’t worry.” And the hashira nodded in agreement they didn’t want to hang out with you that much until your charm came out. All the hashira rubs there eye and they suddenly want to protect you from all the danger hidden around the world. Muichiro came up to you first asking “C-can I be your b-big brother?” You always wanted to have an another sibling so you nodded with barley any emotions. Giyuu saw your emotionless eyes and didn’t want you to end like him. “I-I want to be your uncle” nodded and he smirked a bit. Gyomei started to cry and say “I would like to be your grandpa and take care of you” you were confused but you said “Ok..” not really caring.. Mitsuri and Obanai both knew they are becoming Protective over you in a bad way and they liked that so Mitsuri screamed happily “All the hashira can be [Name]’s family member. All the hashira smiles and muichiro carried you and kisses your forehead.

After that day you barley go on mission without another hashira they can’t bare to let you out if there sight.. They need you. They want to feel more happy.

Headcannons.

- Uncle Sanemi who kills any demon before they can’t touch you and pats your head a lot telling you compliments but says “Don’t go to tomioka your already emotionless”

- Uncle Giyuu who smiles around you and and tries to be the best uncle. He Carries you to quiet places so you guys can be alone with no distractions. You make stuff for him even though it’s not the best he still keeps it.

- Uncle Rengoku who always tries to cheer you up. You never have a smile on your face and it bothers him a lot he always gives you his food and you eat it very slowly that it annoys him so he force feeds you.

- Aunty Shinobu who is teasing you 21/100 times how your gonna end up like Tomioka but still loves you and shows her loves by putting poison in your food or drinks when you disobey her commands or orders <3 or she gives you flower crowns but you end them eating them because in your old house when you didn’t have any food you ate flowers.

- Uncle Tengen who gives you expensive jewelry and if you don’t wear it he will Force them on you and call you “My flashy niece” And then if you don’t wear his expensive gifts for the third time in the row he will punish you. But in a flashy way.

- Grandpa Gyomei who loves to carry you he pats you on the head a lot of the times and you enjoy it but you never show it, you can’t show love. You mostly sleep on him as a sign of affection and he barley moves until you wake up.

- Big brother Muichiro who death glares other members of the corps if they try to talk to his beloved younger sister. Somehow he remembers you. He punishes you if you do something he doesn’t like. He likes it when you wear matching outfits! You wearing a kimono and him wearing a yukuta. Don’t worry it’s Mitsuri’s Money!

- Mom Mitsuri who hates it when you ask to go to your mom grave she can’t help to punish you! She hates it really! But you said something she despises.. After the punishes she says sorry to you and buys you anything you want!

- Dad Obanai who wants you to quit to ur job as a demon slayer as your only 11 but he won’t tell you about it. You remind him of him when he was younger. He spoils you a lot as your his and Mitsuri’s tsuguko. You see him for 1 week then you go to Mitsuri’s House house for a week. He doesn’t want Tomioka’s attitude rubbing on you so he wants you to stay away from him.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Be Thankful

Pairing: Steve x Reader Word count: 1,353

Read on AO3

Part 8 of Looking for the Captain

By the time that Steve knocked on your door that evening, you’d already changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He paused at the door when you opened it, bowls in hand. “Is that my shirt?” He asked, eyebrow raised. “It looks like my shirt.” 

You looked down at it, then back at him. “I dunno. It was tangled in my laundry and it looked comfy. I figured maybe next time it was in the laundry it would get back to its owner.” You shrugged, letting him in. “How awkward was it after I left?” You asked. 

He sighed, handing you your ice cream. “Very, very awkward.” He admitted. Which was putting it mildly to him.

“Oh no.” You groaned, getting comfortable on your bed. “What happened?” 

“First off, he asked me if I have a thing for ‘his daughter’.” He chuckled lightly as you scrunched your nose. “I asked him if he had to word it that way, and pointed out that you’re your own person, and an adult.” He explained, watching you slowly take a bite of your ice cream. “He then called you his little girl-”

You made a face. “Ew.” You said softly. That was just wrong. 

“And said you’re off limits.” He finished. “I told him that he’s like my brother but this is between me and you, and told him you’d made some good points. About the whole me being on ice thing, and him knowing I’m not some random guy. I’m not abusive, and he knows I’m a good guy.” 

“Well, you are.” You smiled. “What did he have to say about that?” You were really curious. Bucky didn’t seem to be the type to back down. 

“Nothing.” 

You stared at him. “Nothing?” That seemed odd. “He seems very stubborn. I was expecting that he would try to counter that.” 

Steve nodded, finally getting comfortable. “Me, too.” 

“But, enough about that grumpy old man.” You nudged him lightly. “I believe we have a movie to watch.”

“What did you pick?” He asked, glancing at you, almost worried. 

You smirked. “I nearly picked American Pie, but I don’t think you’re ready for pie fucking.” You laughed as he choked on the bite of ice cream he was eating. 

“I’m tempted to say ‘language’, but I can’t think of how else you’d get that across that wouldn’t sound gross.” He wiped his mouth. “But, thank you. You’re right. I would like to not see that.”

“I actually picked something from the 50s.” You told him shyly. “I figured it would have been something if you’d had a ‘normal’ life back then and had kids.” You’d been trying to figure out something to watch, and it had caught your eye. 

He was surprised at that. It was a far cry from SAW, that was for sure. “What movie?” 

“Peter Pan. It’s from 1953.” Taking a bite of your ice cream, you hoped that he didn’t find that weird. He’d missed out on a lot of normal stuff, which wasn’t fair. He totally came across as the type of guy who would have settled down after the war and been a dad.

Steve surprised you with a soft smile. “That’s sweet. Put it on.” 

Once you’d both finished your ice cream, you’d set the bowls on your night stand and moved to use his lap as a pillow. Just over half way, he realized you were asleep. He’d let you sleep, and once the movie was over, he’d try to move you and tuck you in. 

He just didn’t expect to also nod off towards the end. He was that relaxed. 

Bucky went to see you, wanting to get to know you. Beyond fighting with you about being an adult. Reaching your room, he could hear music and remembered you were watching a movie with Steve. He gently knocked, and opened the door when he didn’t get an answer. He saw the pair of you asleep and glanced at the tv. The last thing he expected you to choose was what appeared to be an old cartoon. 

Quietly shutting the door, he sighed. He felt the need to hit something, he was beyond frustrated. “JARVIS, is Natasha awake?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Can you ask her to meet me in the training room?” He hoped to get some of this frustration out, and hopefully get her thoughts on everything. She wouldn’t hold back. He needed that. Natasha had seen you and Steve together more than he had, afterall. 

“She will be right there, sir.” 

Nat came in, dressed to train. “I take it something’s on your mind, Barnes?” She knew him too well. “Something happen with the people that are threatening her?” 

“They’re too quiet right now. That’s why I’m here.” He sighed, pulling his hair up into a low ponytail. “But that’s not what had me asking you here.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “This is about Rogers.” There was no question, it was a statement. 

He let out an unamused chuckle. “Yeah.” He nodded. “ Rogers .” 

“Alright. Let’s talk about it while I kick your ass.” She smirked. 

Before anything else was said, they began to spar, falling easily into it. “I know she has feelings for him.” He started, ducking. “I could tell by how she looks at him.” He was clearly upset about it. “I asked him if he had feelings for her, but he said that’s between them.” 

“Because it is.” Her voice gave little hint that they were actively sparring. 

“She’s my daughter!” He reminded her. 

She was unphased. “And?” 

“He’s like my brother.” 

“And? He’s not actually your brother. He’s a good guy, Barnes.” Like he needed reminding. “He can keep her safe. Say we keep her out of danger this time, and we train her to defend herself, what’s to say that in 10 years someone worse won’t go after her? She’s talented, and picks up fighting easily, but she’s not us.” 

He paused. “You’ve been training her?” He let out a noise as she got him in the stomach. 

“Since right after she moved in.” She informed him, locking her thighs around his neck. “We all take turns. With me she does stretching, cardio, and we alternate between weights and self defense. On her own she does yoga.” She slammed him onto a mat. 

“Does she train tomorrow?” He worked on getting himself free from her thighs. 

“Yeah, with me.” 

“I’ll be here.” He wanted to see what this training was. “Is tomorrow defense or weights?”

“Defense.” She said simply. 

Bucky didn’t like how things were going. This wasn’t what he pictured when he sent you to find Steve. He didn’t want you trained. He didn’t want you falling for his best friend. None of it. “I found them asleep together.” He told her. 

“Okay?” She didn’t see the harm. “They’re sleeping.” 

“It’s so weird to me. She won’t listen to me, even if I am her father.” 

“She’s a lot like you. Stubborn and hard headed.” She threw a punch. “And put yourself in her shoes. She’s lived her whole life thinking you’re some deadbeat, and then out of nowhere you send her a letter about being in danger. Then you show up expecting her to act like she’s known you her whole life. She’s an adult. She’s in college for pre-med.” He had to understand that. “I’d try to be her friend more than anything. Not some authority figure. Let her make her own choices, and just be there for her.” 

While she was probably right, he didn’t know how he was supposed to do that. “How am I, as her father, supposed to not say anything about her tiny dresses? Or being like that with my best friend?” He asked. 

“Remind yourself that to her having a father is some abstract idea.” She stopped sparring, just watching him. “The more you try to act like one, the more she will push back. It might just make her do more things that piss you off.” She gave his arm a pat. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders, be thankful.”

[aajjks]

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

mommy issues!JK

you help set the table up for dinner and help your mother finish cooking while your father and jicheol sit in the living room and converse. you’re unsure how this dinner is going to go but you’re hoping by the end of it you’d be out the door and on your way to ilsan. speaking of ilsan—

“soo-min!! oh, my sweet girl. its been so long”

“hi mom! hi dad! hi—wait, y/n? is that you?! oh my goodness! look at you!!”

kim soo-min, your older sister by only a year yet looks exactly like you or more like your father with your mother’s eyes. the only difference is, soo-min received more grace in her childhood whereas your childhood wasn’t so merciful.

“hey soo-min” you say in a dry tone.

“oh c’mon. that’s not how you greet your older sister. come give me a hug”

reluctantly, you give your sister a hug and your mother is ecstatic to see the two of you ‘getting along.’ “aww how sweet” she coos. “minnie, y/n, come help me put the food out for supper”

after the short reunion with your sister, you both finish setting up the table that has a large variety of foods but before everyone takes a seat, jicheol has a special announcement.

“i know that we’re all happy to finally have y/n back home and there’s been some talk of ‘husband’ and ‘wife.’ so…” jicheol reaches in his pocket and pulls out a black box containing a diamond ring. “why don’t we make it official? y/n, marry me”

your eyes widen in horror while everyone around you is practically jumping for joy. this can’t be happening. this won’t be happening.

“no”

“excuse me?”

“i said no. i’m not marrying you jicheol”

“y/n” your mother says your name in a warning tone but you still insist on putting your foot down no matter the consequence. it’s like jungkook said, you have to face your fear and you will not allow them to control you like a puppet anymore.

“don’t ‘y/n’ me. i’m not marrying you jicheol. why in the hell would i marry my abuser when there’s someone in busan that actually loves and cherishes me”

“y/n” you mother warns you again.

“i’m not soo-min. you can’t control me and i won’t allow you to anymore—,” you’re interrupted by jicheol who slaps you so hard that you fall onto the floor.

“you know what, let’s take care of that issue right now. i was trying to be nice but you always want me to be the bad guy. you won’t be going anywhere, y/n and i’ll make sure of it”

jicheol stomps up to you and basically drags you to your bedroom to beat you even more. he punches you, kicks you, and as promised—to make sure you don’t run away, he takes your left leg and snaps it.

panting, jicheol says “there. now, i’ll ask again. will you, y/n marry me”

“y-yes!!!! yes, yes i’ll marry you” you cry out in pain. jicheol takes your hand and shoves the ring onto your finger that’s a perfect fit.

“i should leave you like this. you’re a selfish bitch who cares only about yourself”

“pl-please” you beg. “jicheol, please. d-don’t leave me like this”

“why shouldn’t i? you left me with a broken heart”

“b-because…you love me”

jicheol takes in your battered body and face. even with tears falling, you’re still beautiful. it’s amazing how you never cease to be angelic in his eyes whether you’re happy or in pain.

“that’s right. i do love you. i love you a lot. i’ll go get the stuff to put your leg back in place, okay?”

you nod your head.

“what do you say?”

“th-thank you”

“thank you what?”

“thank you sir”

when jicheol leaves, he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket.

from nara

where are you

I want to confirm yns whereabouts, send me the address so I can tell jungkook about how she willingly ran away from him with you. He will need proof.

to nara

the address?

this must be jungkook. don’t know how you got her phone but you aren’t getting shit from me 😂😂

just know that she’s in good hands

see?

[photo attachment]

~🫧

What the fuck?

“AHHHHH THIS MOTHERFUCKER IS WAY TOO SMART FOR HIS OWN FUCKING GOOD.” Jungkook slams his hand on the steering wheel

As he stares at the picture, he wants to break the phone. You’ve got a diamond ring on your finger, his grip on your hand is so tight-

There’s something really wrong with your ex- THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HIS PLACE. This was supposed to be him and you.

This was supposed to be jungkooks ring on your finger. “HOW ARE WE GOING TO FIND HER NOW? I NEED HER PARENTS ADDRESS. BECAUSE SHE WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HOW HE’S SO ATTACHED TO HER PARENTS!”

He tosses the phone back to Nara. “you’re actually fucking useless. This is your fault that she’s with that fucking abuser. But I’ll get her back and you’ll watch as I marry her and have a family.”

Jungkook gets out of the car. He’s so frustrated right now and his friend notices that.

“Hey how about chaeyoung?! she must know her parents address!!! Yn used to tell her about everything. I’m pretty sure she knows something.” Eunwoo suggests- and Jungkook gets the idea to call her.

“oh yes, you’re right is she must know her parents’ address and he’s in gwangju-she lives in here! Oh yeah I remember Alina telling me about this.” Jungkook reminisces.

He hardly takes out his own phone and calls chaeyoung, he did have her number because of the school Reasons.

Eunwoo is keeping an eye on Nara as jungkook waits for chaeyoung to pick up, and thankfully, she does pick up after 2 to 3 calls.

“H-HELLO? HI IT’S ME JUNGKOOK-don’t ask anything, but I need yns parents address. COME ON HURRY UP. I DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME PLEASE. I’LL DO ANYTHING IF YOU TELL ME HER ADDRESS!”

[cobiehaven]

Merry Good Ending — Ju Haknyeon

SYNOPSIS; to get away from your abusive families, you and haknyeon would do anything. and you mean anything. but only if you do it together.

PAIRING; haknyeon x reader

GENRE; fluff, angst, tw

WORD COUNT; 1.3k

TAGS/WARNINGS; best friends to lovers, run away au, homeless au, struggling au, abuse, blood, sexism, mention of self-harm

AUTHORS NOTE; i have no words for how i wanted to end this.

“haknyeon, what are we going to do…” you sobbed into his arms as he held you right, his own eyes welling up with the same salty tears that he had been holding back since he saw you. “i don’t know, y/n..” he nearly whimpered as he lowered his head into your shoulder, the same way you had done to him.

the both of you currently sat together on the hard and cold floor of your room. the carpet burning your bruised knees as you dig them into the floor, doing whatever you can to push yourself further against haknyeon. you couldn’t be without him right now. he was the only one you had. the only one you felt like you had.

“i just want all of this to be over,” you choked on sobs, his hold on you only growing tighter. “i know, y/n but we can’t magically change your parents relationship,” he said softly.

you knew exactly what he meant yet you couldn’t stop yourself from crying even more.

as you stained his shirt with your tears, you were too busy sobbing to hear the footsteps of your father stomping up the stairs, his strong arms nearly breaking your door handle when he barged into your room. “y/n! what is this boy doing here?! i thought i made it clear that he was never to come back here again!” your father said in a tipsy state. you shivered when his voice raised, haknyeon taking your place in the argument, raising himself to his feet. “i’m sorry, sir but i was just trying to comfort-“ he was cut off when the man before you both raised his arm and swung it right down on your best friend.

it was silent for a small amount of time as the both of you had to take in what exactly just happened.

it was then that you felt your heart sink down into your stomach. drops of blood pasted onto your skin while you sat below your friend, his head dripping with red containments all the way down his face. “o-oh my god, haknyeon-“ you gasped as you moved quickly to help catch his weak body. he was bleeding, not horribly, but you couldn’t stop the boiling anger bubbling in your system at what such a relative could have done to someone so important to you. “dad!” you screamed, your eyes focusing on the broken shards of a very thin glass cup.

it was more than likely filled with alcohol before being emptied.

“how could you?! call an ambulance!” you told him but your father couldn’t bother to listen. his lips babbling about how he made specific orders and that as the woman, you should follow him.

you watched as he walked out, saying something about doing something with your friend before he didn’t something himself. that was probably the only rule you were going to be obeying from your drunken father from now on as you quite literally hoisted haknyeon up onto your back, thankfully he was light enough for you to handle. “y/n.. i can walk on my own,” he slumped over you. “it’s just until i can find help.” he didn’t say much as you walked out of the house and down a couple of blocks. finding that help wasn’t hard as someone eventually drove by and kindly drove you two to the hospital. haknyeon ended up being okay, there was nothing broken or fractured thankfully, just a few cuts that has caused the bleeding you were horribly freaking out about. he ended up walking out the same night with taped patches to his head. of course you made some stupid joke about them to try and lighten the mood but he wasn’t having it.

“y/n, i’m tired.”

“then let’s go to sleep.”

“where? where are we going to sleep? my parents wake up to any and every sound they hear and i just got out of the hospital because of your abusive parents!”

you didn’t know what to say. it wasn’t like you knew this was going to happen. if you did, he knew you would have done anything to stop it.

he sighed, “sorry, i didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” you shook your head, “it’s okay, i know what you meant.”

you both stayed silent for a bit as you helped him take a seat on the nearest bench, him mumbling something along the lines of being fine and that he only had a minor headache. “the streets are always an option,” he shrugged.

“we can’t sleep on the streets!”

“what’s wrong with that?”

“what i mean is that we can’t just abandon our homes.”

he looked away, muttering under his breath, “i wouldn’t call that place my home…”

you frowned, trailing your gaze down to the various never-ending lines that stared from his bends and ended at his wrists. they hurt you every time you looked at them. you couldn’t imagine the pain anyone would go through to feel like that was their only way out.

although, sometimes you felt like you had an idea.

you knew how he felt about his family, the feeling was the same with yours. and to be honest, it wasn’t just your home lives that bothered you. it was everything else too. sometimes, you wished you could just… run away.

“haknyeon,” you sat beside him. “hm?” he hummed, not bothering to crank his head towards you as he was still busy with his own intruding thoughts. you’d be lying if you said that either of you weren’t sensitive when it came to a lot of things.

“i change my mind.”

“change your mind about what?”

“sleeping outside.”

“wait what?”

now was when he finally turned his head towards you. “you’re being for real?” it didn’t look like you were joking yet you nodded your head anyways. “but what about-“ you quickly shushed him, not wanting his words to make you suddenly change your mind. “i don’t want to think about anything else. i just want to get away from this place. go so far that i don’t ever want to have to think about it! but i don’t want to go anywhere without you.” he was in awe, the both of you staring into each others eyes as it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world to have shared such a loving moment like this. “you mean that?” he asked for reassurance, one of which you happily gave to him.

since your final decision of running away together, things have been quite interesting. both of your parents didn’t bother looking for you and you weren’t surprised when haknyeon’s didn’t either, in fact, the police didn’t even come to look for you both until your best friend had no choice but to steal a share of food for the both of you. he almost got away with it if it weren’t for a random customer going off and telling some employee for his antics.

something about him being a homeless piece of scum? whatever, you didn’t want to think about it. you were just happy to not be alone.

“y/n.” he spoke quietly as he held you close to him in the cold night. “hm?” you hummed back.

“even though things are bad, i’m still glad to be with you.”

“me too.”

“no, seriously.”

you looked at him, sitting up a bit.

“but i’m serious too.”

he shook his head.

“i mean, even if everything starts going bad, i still want to be with you.”

was he.. confessing right now?

“haknyeon…” you stared at him. “i want to be with you forever,” he murmured. “will you want to be with me, too?” he asked. “i..” he frowned, his anxiety starting to spike.

“i would love to.”

[inact-ice]

Season 2 episode 12

Ooh this is chimney begins? So a brief break from that man who’s name I forgot

- hi chimney, oh right into it?

- nvm it’s 2005. CHIMNEY YOURE AHEAD OF YOUR TIME SIR THATS A SNUGGIE OR WHATEVER. Fitness centres for kids? Chimney invented the YMCA

- karaoke is chimneys thing I see

- chimney now you know damn well

- HOLLABACK GIRLLL, whoever decides the music for this show is so smart

- it’s interesting to see how hen and chims fire montages are different. Hens was more focused on believing in herself and surviving alone, while chimneys is more focused on commitment and leaning on those close to him

- chimney is kinda small compared to the other guys wow I’ve never noticed

- Tommy noooo, I forgot he’d be in this one. And immediately with calling chimney a food delivery guy? Definitely racist and disparaging, oh his redemption arc needs to be great

- I’m kinda loving this chimney cleaning/preparing montage, the synth music is pumping me up and chimney being sad is making me so sad poor guy

- fuckkk you Tommy, why are YOU still here

- and matter of fact fuck you too Gerard, fuck you ESPECIALLY

- yay chimney show your stuff! He’s doing his thang

- Gerard ignoring chimney oh I am so glad he almost dies

- and fuck chimneys dad too! *gasp* Mrs Lee get his ass, he IS a colourless jackass! Chimney clearly needs a lot of support rn and his dad just dismissed him. Aw Mrs Lee please you’re gonna make me cry

- chimney please dont talk to Tommy rn im trying hard to like him. WHAT! WHAT! WHAT HAS CHIMNEY EVET DONE TO YOU THOMAS THAT WAS SO CRUEL AND CALCULATED WHAT THE FUUUUUCK???

- yeah I don’t like Tommy guys sorry, he’s so mean and like racist? And sexist? And so much of it is of his own volition? I thought Gerard would be egging him on?? And it doesn’t help that he’s so loud about it and his bigotry’s contrasted by other people being nice and accepting

- chimneys learning the unfortunate lesson that whiteness will fuck you over regardless of the uniform it wears

- aww chimney and his bonds with paramedics

- also so interesting that chimneys focused on the rush and thrill while hen was just focused purely on helping, very interesting different perspectives from different characters

- Tommy get out of my face rn I am MAD at you

- oh yeah maddies being kidnapped by her abusive ex as we speak damn

- yay Kevin! Tho I’m pretty sure this is where he dies right? Hello pregnant lady on the roof of a burning building who ig can’t listen to instructions? NOOO KEVIN!!

- well fuck, chimney there was legit nothing you could’ve done baby. Aw him apologizing, the Lees immediately hugging him, that is his FAMILY!!

- ugh why is Gerard here, he’s desecrating this funeral

- aw chimney :(

- ATHENA! Girl how long have you been a cop for

- yeah Tommy see you what happens when you align yourself with white supremacy as a marginalized person? The leopards will eat your face

- the cutting back to present day is so well done

- this is a hilarious song to be in this scene im sorry, I can’t feel it seriously

- oh this direction is so well done, even the abrupt cut

- chimney you’re so cool and in fact the realest.

- it should’ve been Tommy!! Why Kevin whyyy

- Eli you are the #1 ally fr wow

- oh did chimney move out? Aw Mrs Lee you’re gonna make me cry

- oh yay now that chimney saved his life he’s deserving of respect, mind you he goes on to call hen a bitch for no reason after this so idk how clear his head could possibly be

- Howard is a fine middle name puhlease. Kevin’s a pretty good one too tho ig

- yay chimney coming into his ownnn

- OH YEAH DOUG! YOURE GONNA BE FINE CHIMNEYYY

That was so good and just wow, everything’s gotten so much better in this part of the season, the begins episodes themselves are masterpieces. Very well done. Can I just say, that I think I get even less why you guys like Tommy so much now, like he was BAD in this episode Jesus Christ, and knowing that he continues to be an ass to hen after this??? Again, looking forward to the awesome redemption arc I’ve been promised!

[sweetfawngrl]

Dear Public Diary 05

so fucking embarrassing

i hate everyone. everyone. EVERYONE 1!1!1!1!

why doesn’t anyone believe me

why???? what did i do????

im too young to understand but then im an adult??? i’m suddenly a grown ass woman or something?? what the hell??

“i don’t wanna be mean, but she makes life so complicated for no reason..” — mom

?????? what??? you stupid fucking bitch?? i do nothing but tolerate everything she does

i can’t drive??? i can’t go places??? WHY DO YOU THINK THAT IS???

stupid fucking SWEARS that she’ll teach me how to drive ??? but she doesn’t???? she laughs at ME?? BRUH WHAT???

how is it MY FAULT that i can’t drive??? my dad promised me he’ll teach me but then comes home tired. BECAUSE SHE WORKS HIM TO DEATH?? so how is it MY fault????

hey sir i how the fuck do i drive?? omfg

it’s so fucking stupid

and the stupid fucking whore swears she needs my help for basic shit that she could do by herself. she’s just a lazy fucking stupid brainless bitch

no wonder my dad is fucking suicidal

SHE FORCES ME TO COME WITH HER LIKE I DIDNT ASK TO BE HERE.

why does she get mad when IM mad ??? like she KNOWSS i hate leaving my room or out my comfort zone and i get annoyed right?? and then she gets mad that i’m not having fun

like sorry bitch i’m not having fun at some random man’s party that you met on tiktok like yeahh ohhh i’m having so much fun in some house in the middle of buttfuck nowhere??

god i hate everyone

all of you

i wish everyone could just die.

i wish i would die already but no god keeps me around to punish me

“it gets better”

“he has plans for you”

bitch shut the fuck up

likeyeah god wants me to cut myself get abused and made fun of

i hate those kinds of people they’re so annoying and weird like don’t preach your stupid fucking religion/beliefs on me you fucking cunt

and is getting annoyed of my boyfriend normal?

he gets busy i know but now im just bored and he knows i get like this and he stays

idk man

i’m back to feeling that emptiness again omgffg

nothing gets me excited again (lying)

everythibn feelks do draininh

i don’t even wanna eat anymore i’m too fat anyways

i should kill myself

should i record myself

what if i just do it for a bit

i’d rather get sa’ed again tbh

must better than this hell i call home

i wanna go home actually

not home home but home

i miss myself

i wanna cry

i can’t cry , i can’t stop crying

i hate living

goddd everything is so irritating i love talking to myself on the internet #risky

LOL.

[stolenatbirth]

                                                          STOLEN AT BIRTH

                                   A true story by Jason Voto

                                        INTRODUCTION

                                                   by J E Worthen

For my friend and adopted son, as I lost my youngest to suicide at only 19 in

1999, my oldest son, to drugs who is in his own schizophrenic world of illusion

now in early 60s. For all the abuse I went through married at only 21 to my Greek

God, and the perfect upbringing I did have growing up.  I knew the difference and

what abuse does. For my dad was a genius in electronic sound.  There was no liquor in my house growing up, nor abuse of any kind.  I was brought up with

classical music and opera all around me, and love.  I was the apple of my father’s eye, and he was my confidant, who I trusted and always there.  My abuse book

is at local police and historical societies in Goffstown and Manchester, and my

blog that took me 17 years to write.  I had a wonderful upbringing, and a mom

and dad who loved me, spoiled me, camps in summer, music and love.  So when

I met Jason, I adopted him.  When I started to read what he wrote, and all the

abuse he went through as a child, I was mortified, shocked, and indignant that

another human could inflict this pain on a child.  For I fought, and in courts, for my

youngest bi-polar son, who in the highs and lows committed suicide at only 19 in

1999.  I fought so hard for him, and know that I know, God put Jason and I together.  He’s a good person.  He somehow made it through and by the grace of

God overcame all that childhood abuse.  At my age now, this is no doubt the last

project I’ll engage in before God brings me home.  I love you Jason.  And I am

eternally grateful for all you have done for me, now with a broken hip.  You are

my Godsend.  JW        https://jeworthen.wordpress.com/                                       

        *There are no Chapters in this book as it just flows from beginning to end.

This is my second book, after my author surprisingly got robbed in her own house. I  guarantee the Voto family hired someone to break in and steal my book, (ALTHOUGH I can’t prove it.) Who would take everything, especially 3 books and leave needles hanging around!  A junkie would be in and out as fast as they

Can!  I found an identical twin during covid as this evil family never wanted me near a computer!  The odds of finding what I found is 1 and 3 trillion!  I went to

a DNA Lab who said, “Sir, we have no time today we are really busy!  I said van you do me one favor?  The wonderful lady saif sure what is it?  She asked? I should have the pictures of me and my “twin”.  I said, “Can you look at these?

She said, “who is that boy?”  I said, “can you repeat yourself, I’m deaf in my left ear from Hilti guns doing construction.  My whole life!”  She said again, “who is

that boy?  I said, Exactly!  The boy on the left in the Buffalo Bills coat is supposedly a cousin I never meet in my life!  The boy on the right is me!!  She

said “OMG how did you find this?  I said God is good isn’t He?  She said absolutely.  She then said son his birthday!  I replied with evidence, August 20, 1969!!  She then said your birthday?  I said Nov 6, 1969!  She then said, OMG

then she said your birth weight?  I said, 9 lbs 5 oz. 

Then she said, “Son I have owned this lab for 30 years and have never seen anything Like this!!  Come in! ”  She said.  “First thing are these people military?

I said yes, 2 potatoe peelers, and 1 high Air Force Major!  She said,  “Son, if you went to any other lab in the US, they would have covered this up. I have seen it for years, and specialize in Immigration DNA!  This is not your family!  That is your

Identical twin brother!  They would have taken your swabs that you contaminated in plastic baggies anyway and covered up!  She brought me in and guided me on how to properly do the DNA in a newspaper that can hold the DNA 2 weeks if you

don’t put in freezer!  “If” you  put in freezer within that time it will last for 100 years!  She then said, the government already have you tracked since birth.  You

need to hire a private genealogist!!  Then she said go to a DNA lab of the government for evidence and do the tst for fun, just to verify this evil!!  Child trafficking and harvesting is a 500 billion $ industry.  She also said you found your

twin!  Now you have to find your parents and brothers and sisters if any!  Nick Dolan had one sister listed. She said “don’t worry you found him now find the rest!

                                                                1.

So, lets start my life story of abuse and the pathological and narcissistic family of lies!! First Lie!!  I was told my whole life, I jumped off my 2 story porch on 115 Morrison Ave, Somerville, MA.  My phone number was 627-666-9334! I jumped for my sneaker and landed on my head, 2 stories!?!  Mary Voto “said” she ran up and down the street holding my head together til her mother arrived!  We only had one car at that time! Johnny Voto was a truck driver for Olympia Trucking at the time!  They supposedly brought me to the hospital!! This was a lie  of a lifetime I would have been dead at 2 years old, if that happened my skull was too

Soft to live through a fall like that!  When I confronted John Voto he was Deputy Chief of Police of Tewksbury, MA.  My fake brother in 2022 on a phone call brought up the story!  He “denied” that happened at that house.  He said, which was the first pathological lie from him.  This is a loser  fake brother that has known

For years I was taken at birth.  Such pure evil! 

Somerville at the  time of my childhood was called slumberville.  It was a poor city!  Where we used to play sports on the streets and swim in the city pool when I was open and “if”we didn’ make it there!  The fire hydrant would do!  We used to steal carts from Johnny’s Food Master for go cart wheels so we could have fun!  At 6 years of age my cousin (we used to call each other that). Mickey Ma221 and I used to throw rocks at cars!   We got caugjt one day as the man from one of the cars chased us o 125 Morrison Ave, my abducted house!  We were hiding under the porch when he found us!  He asked where we lived.  I said, upstairs!  Mikey said he lived there too because he didn’t  want to get into trouble!  But as I have always told the truth to adults I said he lives around the corner!  Well that didn’t go well.  That’s when the beatings started coming!  The abuse from Johnny was horrible!  At 7 years old I loved playing with matches.  My friend Damien McCaferty who lived 2 houses away actually was flicking matches in his front yard!  It was a dry summer so the grass went up and caught fire.  By the time it was put out we burnt a 10 by 20 ft section of his yard!  Well his dad  came over and told Johnny Voto that night what we did!  Well,  Johnny took my hands and put them over an open flame on the stove to burn.  So I would learn my lesson as his wife was screaming out of the top of  her lungs!  I was concentrating on not to cry

and ignored the pain!  This guy wasn’t going to break me. I learned how to block the pain  out.  That didn’t stop me from playing with matches a couple of weeks later while I stayed home from school.  I was in  the back porch flickering matches in the trash and it went up in fire.  I watched it for a minute and woke  Mary and said the porch is on fire!  We  put it out as the rails  to the porch were charred from

                                                               2. 

the fire!  We hid it for a long time!  Can’t remember the punishment for that one!   Thank God!  Around 8ish I was placed in the Montessori School for the gifted kids!  I excelled there, and was  at Powder House Park!  We were not allowed to talk or know each others  names!  It was crazy!  The other kids were chartered in

from other towns across  the state!  We went in every day and grabbed our totes

with our daily work in them!  1 hour before we left we went over the daily work.

We swapped over answers to the person next  to us so we didn’t cheat!  If we got 100 on any of the sections and sniffs of different smells of fruit!   As I remember Montessori School a lot oit6 was mathematics, strategies, tactics,  logics!  It was

nothing  like regular school and nothing  like the say now a days of God.  I just

got sick of the quiet and no recess!  I remember looking at Somerville High School

kids playing in playground as I was waiting for my bus to go home!  Wishing I there!  Mary Voto would go for parent teacher every month  to that school.  Not like regular parent teacher every report card.   So I was so sick  and depressed of being there I dropped my grades and slept from Feb to June on my desk to get out of there!  To get back to my real friends at Lowell School and be normal again.  Man the torture in that  house  continued when John and Mary  went out!  Stephen

and John used to make me kiss the babysitter!  I think that’s where my bad boy an hormones  started kicking in.  But as we grew older the would be baby sitter  would torture me! To the point I would fight back!  One time got me so bad!  I went after them with a broom as I was 8 years old.  I took the broom and railed back to swing at them that I smashed  through Johnny’s light show. Basically strobe lights that moved with the music.  When he had his friends over  he used to do his drugs and  used with the lights off! And music and lights going! Well that

night wasn’t a night to remember we all got beatings for talking too much when

we were up in our room at bedtime.  I never had my own bed in Somerville.  I guess we know why now!  I was taken at birth!  So I would sleep on the floor!

Of fight with Stephen to move over and let me sleep with him!  Most of the time

I just took to the floor.  Stephen  was the type of child if you won a fight he would

Come at you with a weapon. How do you think out of Somerville to 80 Green Meadow Dr Tewksbury I started  excelling in sports as I had long blond hair an

dressed differently than country people.  I was in second grade when I moved!  I

was outcast and no one wanted to be friends with me because I was different.  I hated going to school especially on the bus where a neighbor  down the street used to torture me.  Her name was Holly Athertin!  It took about 6 months to adjust as I

was all alone!  My brothers were a couple of years older.  I don’t know what they were going through!  As I look back  I was always separated from those two.  When I went  to see relatives I was always by myself.  Stephen and John went together.  I remember the day I fit in  like yesterday!       3.    

They were playing kick ball and let me join in! I kicked that ball farther than anyone has ever seen!  From that moment I was popular! It was like back in Somerville when I played sports with the other boys!  I was the MVP of my street hockey team that lost in the finals!  As I was 2 to 3 years younger than all of them!

I loved every sport I played; BMX, football, basketball, English horseback riding,

wrestling!  The only good thing that evil Mary Voto did for me was sneak me out

in her an, for sports, when her husband hardly let her drive us anywhere!  He was an evil controlling man! Never cared about us.  But his damn cars and drugs!  It wasn’t easy for Steven and John either!  But, I wasn’t they’re real brother and I didn’t deserve any of this nightmare!  I used to try to stay over my friends house overnight at 11 and 12 and teen years; just so I could get away from that evil house! We used to watch Mary make or buy dinner for us!  But we had to wait for that evil man to eat first and we would get and scavenge for whatever scraps were left; and it was awful! I was always hungry and starving at elementary school!!

My stomach was always growling in class before lunch!   I was so embarrassed!

All of us growing up in the 70’s and 80’s were not to talk about whats going on in the home we lived in!  My great friend Sheila Foster just passed away last year! She was one of my best friends in Tewksbury growing up with my other best friend Brad Homola! Sheila used to come to all my childhood sports games rain or shine. Boy its tough to talk about!  I used to always look for her to make sure she was there to watch me!  She was like a sister that I never had, and missed everyday!  Brad  and I used to go to her house a lot!  We actually got caught sleeping in her tiny closet.  It was so funny when I first met her mother and around 4am.  In that closet  Brad literally had our legs up on the wall it was that small! She opened the door and said, “I knew there were boys here!  Lol!  First before Brad and I could say a word was Sheila yelling out “Ma, that’s Jason you would like him. You talked to him on the phone all the time!  Lol!  This story  has been told to

so many laughs over the years!  I will always be remembered  as so will she! Such a great friend and woman!  Looking back on my detailed memory  my Godmother call me Jakey Vovo where would you get that name as my name was Jason!!! But

we soon will know the truth!   My Tewksbury neighborhood was all great friends.  We did everything together till we hit junior high!  We all went our separate ways.

I will never say I was a perfect child!  I came into my looks early an took full advantage  of it with the girls!  Lost my virginity to the neighbor at 12 years old! That year is when I fell in love with baseball!  I excelled at it!  My neighbor Lee

Cowir  was like the bad news bears coach.  He was always drinking beers on the way to games and way home!  He was a good guy!  I was talented as you will see,  

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as my son, now plays in the majors.  Later on in the story I will give his name!  The abuse started with my gay cousin Mike, Susans’ brother whose father raped half of the family!  Jimmy Stewart!  Mike did just stupid things like spin the bottle and touching my penis! Jimmy took me to work one day, as I will never forget!

We were delivering peanut butter to Teddy Peanut Butter in Charleston MA! As

we were pulling out he asked to see my penis!  I was only 10 years old!  He just touched it thank God!  But, later in life, I found out he raped my aunt Eileen when she was a teen!  That is Jimmy’s wife’s little sister!  This man was a pig!  Then at

covid Emme Stewart called me and was depressed! I said Emma listen I just found my identical twin brother as that Voto family tried to lock me up with lied!  I said, is everything ok?  She said sadly yes!  She then said Jason remember when my mother died of breast cancer?  I was 15 years old!  I said yes!  She said we were at a family function as you came over to me and said Emma any boys mess with you, you call or come see me!  Well, after you walked away I said to my grandmother Pat, a Stewart who was my favorite aunt! Emma.  I said, grandma he doesn’t look like them, and he doesn’t act like them!!  Pat’s shunned her in silence and said Emma please don’t ever say that again, As we know now years later why she said

that!  Back to childhood, I was always separated from those 2 fake brothers of mine when I went to see my Nana or  I went to see my grandfather Arthur Dolan on the other side of the family!  I went up to Grand Lake Stream Maine for a week

with Arthur.  By the way this all came out.  My fake mother told her sisters, when Arthur died not to tell anyone of his death!  Evil!  Mary’s younger sister Barbara

Dolan Storella said!  Mary that is impossible!! There is a little thing called the internet and Facebook, not to mention Twitter! This evil woman knew if we drove

way up to Maine for his wake, I would see my own brother and sisters eyes and know they were my family!  Pure evil!  I remember I loved my grandfather now knowing he was really my uncle!  I was 8 years old when he took me to Grand Lake Stream to his acres of land!  We called it the Poor Farm.  I don’t know why

they just did!  He took me  for a week as Stephen John and his son David were up

there that summer before me!  The cleaned and worked doing landscaping and ripping weeds out of the pond!  When I was there I was getting into mischief.  I would let the air out of his farming tractor!  Try to clime down a 300 ft well.  Boy was I a hyper kid!  Well we were going home from my grandfather put me on a raft in his little pond!  He said just float around while I mow the farm!  I was like  good luck with that!  The tires were very low!  He said we are gonna leave at 10am

to go to the dog track in Seabrook!  Post time is 12:30pm. We don’t want to be late! Gramps was a big gambler!  Back in the day he had his own dogs and kennel!  He got them from Ireland and had many champions!     5.

I found out later in life!  Well when he finished mowing we were all packed up and ready to go!  We got in the car! He said, Jason let me see your penis!! I was in shock!  Because this was the first uncomfortable moment in my life!  But thinking back now, he just wanted to make sure I was a stallion! He didn’t touch me or anything!  We just went on our way!  We got to Seabrook on time for the first race. For this is when I learned I had mathematics in me!  He showed me in 2 minutes how to read the program book of the dogs!  How the break out of the gate and how they go in every quarter of mile of the track! I figured it out quickly!  He was letting me pick trifectors for $2.00, which means they have to come in exact order!

I really wanted to win! The first on I picked 2 out of 3 came in!   I was so close!

The second one I picked threw a long shot in! I could read the odds on the board outside on the track!  I picked 8, 4, 1.  It came in! I knew I won a good sum of money!  I said gramps, I won!  He smiled and said, yes!  So I followed him up to the ticket counter.  I knew it was $1,$4.00. In these days of mid 70’s it was like

$1800.00 in 20 20’s.  The teller handed him the money, and he put in his left pocket as I was not taking my eyes off of him!  He said he had to go to the bathroom. I followed him and pretended to pee next to him. When he was done

I was done! He wenet to wash his hands and I said, Gramps am I gonna get that $?

He said ya fella and he reah4d in his left pocket and handed it to me.  Looking back now, I knew he was debating to just give me $20.  But he gave me it all! I

Was so excited!  I bought a BMX as all my friends had one!  I started racing BMX for awhile and I excelled at it!  All my friends had custom Red1nes GTS Hutch bikes I only had a Murray that was store bought!  I was still beating them!  It wasn’t about the bike!  It was about the strength in your legs! As I started getting into my teens.  And in puberty I started dating a lot of girls..a lot! My grandmother had a beach house at Salisbury Beach and I did not like her very much. No, she was a mean evil woman!  As during covid my step aunt Ann told me that my grandfather used to say David and Lisa his youngest of 7 were not his kids!  We used to go up to her beach house in the summer and Stephen always stayed as I would wiggle my way in!   It was my only way to get out of that evil housee!  I was meeting girls left and right but, every Saturday I would be depressed as their family vacation would be over!  They would  leave and I had no way really of seeing them again!  I was only 12  - 15 years old during this time!  So I had no

license!  But that Saturday night I got so used to another one I would find it would wipe that sorrow away! One time there was this girl Gail Mannings I slept with out of many 1,116 women I counted! Yes, 1,116 is correct! We had sex on the side of 495 Park and Ride after the movies!  After we were done having sex, she said

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you were way better than your brother Stephen!  I was horrified! Back to a childhood “trauma”! I was 12 years old coming home from school!  I just found

3 baby bunnies!  I was trying to save!  I came home and to my horrific surprise

The hair was ripped out of them!  I asked that evil Mary Voto what happened to my bunnies, I was so upset and angry!  She said Mac our dog got to them! So I

went out and hit poor Mac as I was watching these poor innocent bunnies die in

pain!  Come to find out Shirley Dolan, Mary’s sister’s daughter plucked those poor bunnies hair out!  Yes, another Devil’s sister!  Shirley was a mentally ill woman!

She had sex with her own brother Danny Dolan.  I found this out through Danny’s wife!  Picked up the phone one day as Danny and Shirley were talking on the phone!  His wife Karen overheard Danny Saying, “Shirley you were the best sex of my life!  Danny just opened a can of worms!  His wife went downstairs where Danny hung out on down time! She rubbished through his things! Only to find more evidence as to her surprise, she found pictures of men preforming head to Danny in his military boxes! That he used as storage!  This was a sick Dolan family!  That evil Mary Voto tried, lying in Lowell courts during covid! Said I was saying her sister was my mother!  What a sick woman lying under oath!  Shirley Kinsell, a Dolan is my mother, her aunt!  The evil this family is!  Boy were they

Desperate to medicate me!  Back to my childhood detailed memories!  As I said

I was a good athlete! I came home one night with Brian Alyward who was a great

Athlete and David French!  We walked through the garage!  I was happy hanging out with these kids!  We opened the finish basement door!  Where Johnny and his friend Bobby Bertrand were! Man did he pot smoke blow out!  As they were sitting there stoned and coked out of their minds!   Dave and Brian called their parents for

a ride home!  They knew to leave situations like that in those days!  I was never so

embarrassed and ashamed of this piece of shit household I grew up in!  These people were not made to have children!  Brian and Dave never looked at me the same!  I don’t blame them! All my neighbors…we were so close and used to always hang out in our neighborhood!  Playing spin the bottle, drinking, stealing weed from Johnny’s stash and whatever was available we found and experimented with!  In our teens!  But more embarrassment came when they found naked pictures of John and Mary in their night stand!  Disgusting! And it was bad for

Stephen and John too!  It was always something.  Just when we had dinner, Mary

Would feed that evil husband of hers, and we got to scavenge for whatever was left over! There were so many hidden secrets in that house! One of her brothers Eddy Dolan used to smoke weed like cigarettes, and had a pilot’s license as a boy that he got caught smuggling marijuana from Mexico to the States in the 1970’s.  He spent

time in Mexican prisons.   He used to come up to his mother’s beach house and walk around the beach with a joint in his ear like it was normal! I never got why the State  troopers never arrested him as we walked by them!  Now back to Danny Dolan the degenerate of the family when I used to stay at their original house in

Salisbury on long school vacations!