#ALL THAT TRAUMA. HE H A S TO BE BABY

[nya-nya-agere]

Bad day today. So here’s fishie!!!!

[mononijikayu]

don't look back in anger — gojo satoru.

“They have no right, my love.��� you say, trying to keep your voice steady but failing. “After everything you’ve done, everything you’ve given—how dare they blame you?” Satoru doesn’t look at you, his bright blue eyes half-lidded, fixed somewhere distant. His signature smirk is missing, replaced by an unfamiliar stillness. “It’s not surprising, baby.” he mutters, voice barely above a whisper. “They always need someone to blame. KIlling the higher ups is just a step. The rot still exists from some people’s thinking, you know?”

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: spoilers for chapter 269 of jjk, domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 3k words.

NOTE: i decided to write this really REALLY fast before uni because i can't stop thinking about how angry i am that satoru isn't being mentioned in the latest chapters. and i just needed to let this out. thank you a lot for reading it though!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

IT’S ONLY BEEN A DAY OR TWO SINCE THE BATTLE. But you hover over your husband so constantly that you can’t help but notice the subtle signs—he’s doing his best to be patient with you.

Satoru’s usually the one with the infinite calm, the one who never loses his cool. But every time you adjust his blanket, offer him water, or check in on how he’s feeling, you catch the slightest flicker of exasperation behind those brilliant blue eyes.

He never says anything, of course. Instead, he smiles at you, that teasing grin of his that you know too well. But you can feel it in the way his gaze lingers just a bit too long, in the way his shoulders tense every time you fuss over him. He’s trying to bear it without complaint—because he knows you’re only worried—but it’s there.

“You’re doing it again,” Satoru finally says, a playful edge to his tone, though you catch the weariness underneath.

You blink, momentarily taken aback. “Doing what?”

He chuckles softly, his voice low. “You know what. Hovering.”

Your lips press together in a thin line, knowing he’s right but not willing to back down. “I just want to make sure you’re okay,” you say, trying to keep the defensiveness out of your voice.

“I’m fine,” he replies, his smile softening. “Really. You don’t have to worry so much.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, unconvinced. “You’re still recovering. Let me worry.”

“I know.” He reaches out, taking your hand in his. “But if you keep this up, you’re going to drive yourself crazy. And me.”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugs at your lips. “You? Crazy? Impossible.”

Satoru laughs, shaking his head. “Even I have my limits, you know.”

You lean back slightly, loosening your grip on him, but not without a lingering glance. “Alright, alright. I’ll try to give you some space. But just a little.”

He smirks, a hint of his usual mischief returning. “Just enough to let me breathe, maybe?”

You roll your eyes, but the tension between you eases, the moment settling into something lighter. Still, you can’t help but keep a watchful eye on him, even as you pull back. It’s in your nature to worry—and Satoru knows it.

The ride home from Jujutsu High is thick with tension, the echoes of the conversations from earlier still gnawing at you. Megumi walks beside you, his silence mirroring your own frustration.

The meeting had been a circus of finger-pointing and thinly veiled accusations, and even though Satoru wasn’t there, his name was dragged through the mud as if he had been. Blame for Yuji, blame for the crumbling system—everyone needed a scapegoat, and as usual, they chose Satoru.

By the time you reach the Gojo manor, you’re seething. You can’t shake the bitterness from the gathering—their condescending tones, the way they talked about Satoru like he was a liability instead of the reason half of them were still alive. As though being the strongest changes the fact that your husband is a breathing human being. 

In the view of the water gardens, it was peaceful. And yet all at once, a storm brewed inside of you. You and Satoru sit together in the quiet, as you have been for the past few days now. But unlike these past few days, the view does not make you feel calm and at peace at all.

Instead, your irritation is palpable, your fingers drumming impatiently on the armrest of the chair. Gojo Satoru lies next to you, still recovering, his usual vibrancy dampened by both physical exhaustion and the heavy burden of blame. The weight of jujutsu society’s accusations presses down on the room, though none of them are here to face him.

Across the room, Fushiguro Megumi stands silently, arms crossed, watching you both. He’s fully aware of the anger simmering just beneath the surface, not just at the accusations, but at the complete disregard for Satoru's sacrifices. If anything, he’s just as angry. But he knew better than to say anything. Especially knowing that you were angry. It was better at that point that someone was focused on remaining calm. Otherwise, it would be hellfire. And there was none needed, just after defeating the King of Curses. 

Yet, you both can’t help but feel how deeply it stings. It was ever so easy for everyone in your  world to just forget everything, to not acknowledge what your Satoru has done, reducing him to the villain, the perpetrator of the entire suffering of the Jujutsu world, just because he refused to follow an unjust order—to execute Yuji Itadori, a child caught in forces far beyond his control. 

Just because he could not stop powerful curses and cursed users from doing things that your husband would not have had any knowledge about. Your husband couldn’t have predicted thousand year old cursed users and their greed would do something like this to your world. How is it your husband’s fault, that the rot had gotten that deep in Jujutsu society either? 

You glance at Satoru’s pale face, his breathing still slightly labored. The hurt in your chest deepens, anger mixing with a fierce protectiveness. How could they not see what he’s gone through, what he continues to endure for the sake of others? All you can think is how none of them truly understand what it means to stand at his side, to witness the toll this cursed world takes on him every single day.

The quiet hum of the room feels suffocating, the weight of your frustration finally spilling over. You turn to Satoru, your voice sharp, but layered with concern. You just can’t help it, when it comes to him. You were always so protective of him, even all those years ago. Because if you would not do it, who would? Who would take his side and give such devotion, as equal as his own? Your husband isn’t the type to explain himself, nor is he someone that would let anyone know what he truly feels. He doesn’t think he has to. He does not care.

“They have no right, my love.” you say, trying to keep your voice steady but failing. “After everything you’ve done, everything you’ve given—how dare they blame you?”

Satoru doesn’t look at you, his bright blue eyes half-lidded, fixed somewhere distant. His signature smirk is missing, replaced by an unfamiliar stillness. “It’s not surprising, baby.” he mutters, voice barely above a whisper. “They always need someone to blame. KIlling the higher ups is just a step. The rot still exists from some people’s thinking, you know?”

“But it shouldn’t be you.” you snap, louder this time. You catch Megumi shifting slightly in his spot, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his stance suggests he’s just as frustrated as you are. “You know you aren’t to blame for their ills.”

“They want things to stay the same, Gen–san.” Megumi finally speaks up, his tone controlled but edged with bitterness. “Blaming Gojo-sensei is easier than facing their own failures.”

You clench your fists. “They forget that he’s human. That you—” Your words choke off. You can’t bring yourself to say it. It feels like admitting too much. “It’s just not right.”

Satoru lets out a breath, a soft chuckle following it. “I don’t care what they think. I did what I believed in. I wasn’t going to kill Yuji. He deserves better than that. And... he’s a kid. Just like ‘gumi. I don’t... I don’t have the heart to... you know what I mean.”

His voice falters slightly at the end, and you catch something in his expression that makes your chest tighten. It's rare for Satoru to let his guard down like this, to even hint at the weight he carries, but you can see it now—just for a second, the flicker of doubt, the exhaustion behind those sharp blue eyes.

“You did the right thing,” you say, your voice softer now, though the anger still simmers beneath. “Yuji’s not a tool to be discarded. He’s just a boy.”

Satoru nods, his gaze distant. “Yeah, a boy thrown into the worst situation imaginable. Just like ‘gumi was. Like Yuta was. I couldn’t... I wouldn’t make him pay for their mistakes. I’ve seen what this world does to people like him.”

There’s a heaviness in his words, the unspoken memories of everything he’s witnessed, everything he’s tried to protect the kids from. You know how much it eats at him—how deeply he cares, even if he hides it behind his usual bravado. And as much as he pretends to shrug it off, the toll is evident in moments like this, when his façade cracks ever so slightly.

You step closer, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice. "And you deserve better than this," you retort quickly, anger flaring in your chest again. "You’ve given them everything, and they give nothing back. They act like you’re just another tool for them to use, like you don’t have a heart. And I’m just so angry….”

Satoru finally turns his head, the faintest glimmer of his usual self creeping into his eyes as he looks at you. “Hey, baby.” he says softly, his voice gentler now. “You know I’m not doing this for their thanks. I’m doing it for the kids, for you. For Satoshi. So we’ll be happy.”

You blink, trying to swallow the anger that lingers. “I know that.” you say quietly. “But I can’t stand watching them tear you apart.”

Megumi walks closer, his arms still crossed, a firm resolve in his expression. “We won’t let them, Gen–san. Don’t worry.”

Satoru chuckles again, the sound a little lighter this time. “You two…huh…” He looks between you and Megumi, his tired eyes softening. “Always so serious. So Zen’in, the two of you. Stop frowning. You’ll end up with wrinkles. Believe me, it’s fine. They’ll come around. And if they don’t—well, it’s not the first time I’ve pissed off people, you know?”

His attempt at humor falls flat, the usual brightness behind his words missing. But the effort doesn’t go unnoticed—it tugs at your heart, a bittersweet reminder of how hard Satoru tries to keep things light, even when the world around him is anything but. You can see it in the subtle shift of his shoulders, the slight downward tilt of his head. He’s tired, more than he’ll ever admit, and though he brushes it off with a smile or a joke, the weight of it all is still there—quiet, invisible, but crushing.

Despite everything—despite the accusations, the blame, the endless expectations placed on him—Satoru is still trying to carry the burden alone. It’s always been like this with him, hasn’t it? He wears his strength like armor, his humor like a shield, always standing tall so no one else has to bear the load. But in moments like this, when his defenses slip just a little, you can see the cracks. And it breaks your heart.

You reach out, your movements slow and deliberate, as if any sudden gesture might make him retreat back into that impenetrable shell of his. Your hand finds his, and you gently intertwine your fingers with his, grounding both of you in the simple connection. He doesn’t pull away; instead, he lets out a soft breath, the tension in his body loosening ever so slightly.

“Satoru,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, “you don’t have to carry this alone. You know that, right?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at your hands, your fingers laced together, and there’s something raw in his expression—something vulnerable that he usually hides behind that ever-present grin.

“I know,” he finally says, his voice quieter than usual. “But sometimes... it’s hard to let anyone else help. I’m used to being the one who fixes things.”

You squeeze his hand a little tighter, your heart aching at the quiet admission. “You don’t always have to be the one to fix everything. You’ve done more than enough.”

He meets your gaze then, his eyes soft but still carrying the weight of someone who’s been fighting battles far too long on his own. “I’m not so sure about that,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a rare uncertainty.

You hold his gaze, refusing to let him retreat. “You have. And you don’t have to keep proving yourself, especially not to those people. Let us help you. Let me help you.”

For a moment, Satoru just looks at you, as if he’s weighing your words, letting them sink in. And then, slowly, he nods. It’s small, but it’s a start—a sign that maybe, just maybe, he’ll let you share the weight of the world that’s been pressing down on him for so long.

“They don’t deserve you, my love.” you say, quieter now but no less fierce.

Satoru squeezes your hand lightly, a soft smile finally breaking through the exhaustion on his face. "Maybe not. But you’re stuck with me. Because you deserve me. Like I deserve you."

You hold his hand a little tighter, your gaze softening despite the frustration still simmering beneath the surface. "And I wouldn't have it any other way,my love." you murmur, your voice a little steadier now. Satoru’s warmth is a quiet reassurance, but the sight of him like this—so worn down, so unfairly burdened—fuels the anger you can’t entirely let go of.

Megumi stays quiet for a moment, watching the two of you before finally speaking again. “They won’t stop, all of this.” he says, his voice firm. “They’ll keep pushing this, won’t they? Trying to make him the scapegoat.”

Satoru shrugs, his usual bravado creeping back. “Let them try. I’m not exactly easy to get rid of. Living after all that is proof enough.”

You frown, your frustration bubbling up again. "You shouldn't have to keep proving yourself to them, Satoru. You’ve already sacrificed so much, and they act like none of it matters."

He looks at you with those pale blue eyes that somehow always manage to soften, just for you. “What do you want me to do? Step aside and let them tear down everything I’ve built? Everything you, me, and the students have worked for?”

“No, my love.” you say firmly. “But I don’t want you to bear all this alone. You’ve already done more than anyone could’ve asked for.” You pause, the words catching in your throat before you add quietly, “I just want them to think of you, for once. Not what they want from you.”

Megumi nods in agreement, stepping closer. “They’re too busy looking for someone to blame. And they’ll keep at it until they find a way to pin everything on you.” His blue - green eyes darken slightly, a shadow of his own frustrations showing. “But we won’t let them.”

Satoru sighs, though there’s a flicker of pride in his gaze as he looks at Megumi. “You’ve grown up, Megumi.” 

Megumi raises an eyebrow, his expression flat. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

Satoru chuckles softly, but the sound is laced with exhaustion. “No, you’re not. But you always will be to me, kiddo. And I’m glad I’ve got you two watching my back.” He looks at you again, the smile fading as he speaks more seriously. “But don’t let this consume you. I’ll be fine. They can push, they can complain, but I’ll keep doing what I know is right.”

Your heart aches at his words. His strength is undeniable, but it’s the toll that worries you most. You lean forward, your voice quiet but firm. “We’ll face them together. You’re not alone in this, Satoru. Not anymore. We’re here.”

His eyes soften even more, the weight of your words sinking in. “I know,” he whispers, squeezing your hand gently. “And that’s what makes it worth it.”

For a moment, the anger subsides, replaced by a quiet resolve between the three of you. You won’t let them tear him down. Not while you’re by his side. Not while Megumi is standing strong. Together, you’ll face whatever comes next.

epilogue

Satoru holds your hand for a beat longer, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. But then, in true Gojo Satoru fashion, the somber mood shifts as his signature grin makes a slow return now that you both were finally alone..

“You know, baby....” he says, tilting his head and giving you a playful look. “You’re always swooping in to save me. My knight in shining armor.”

Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. “What? I—” You open your mouth to protest, but the words stumble over themselves, not quite landing the way you want.

He leans closer, that mischievous gleam in his eyes growing brighter. “Oh yeah, always protecting me from the big, bad sorcerer world. It’s cute, really.”

You feel heat creeping up your neck, spreading quickly to your cheeks. “Satoru, that’s not—”

“What?” he interrupts, his smirk widening as he watches your flustered expression with clear amusement. “I think it’s sweet. I mean, look at you, always worrying about little ol’ me.”

“Little?!” you sputter, trying to keep your composure as he grins down at you. “You’re the most powerful sorcerer alive, you don’t need saving—”

“And yet, and yet!” he drawls, leaning in even closer, his voice low and teasing,.“Here you are, my personal knight in shining armor. Should I start calling you ‘Sir Baby’?”

Your face is on fire now, and you smack his arm lightly. “Satoru, stop!”

He laughs, the sound light and full of mischief, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, come on. Admit it—you like being my hero.”

You narrow your eyes, trying desperately to compose yourself, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “I’m not your hero,” you mutter, though the words come out far less convincing than you’d intended.

Satoru’s grin softens into something more genuine as he leans back, still holding your hand. “Maybe not. But I wouldn’t mind being rescued by you a little more often.”

You blink, caught between the teasing and the sincerity in his voice. “Satoru…”

He winks at you, breaking the moment with a playful shrug. “What can I say? I like having you around. Blushing and all.”

You groan, turning away slightly, but the smile on your face is impossible to hide. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it, don't you?” he replies, completely unfazed, that cheeky grin never leaving his face.

And, despite everything, you can’t help but laugh. “Unfortunately, I do.”

[typicalopposite]

( read in full on ao3 )

chapter one | chapter two

Pairing: BuckTommy - JonahTommy(past)

Rated: M

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Abusive relationship ; manipulation ; emotional trauma ; dom/sub undertone ; forced heart conditions

(Fair warning this chapter is 13k 🫣 I was going to split it… I changed my mind… i apologize for any inconvenience! To make it easier to follow … italics are flashbacks — present day is Buck POV / flashbacks are Tommy POV … up until the last lil bit!)

It has felt like this shift has gone by in slow motion, and there is still another hour before it ends. 

Buck feels like he is on pins and needles as he mindlessly wanders around the lofted section of the 118… anticipating another long call to drag out the already drawn out morning. He is jumping into action the moment he hears the ring— it takes him a moment to realize it’s just his phone. 

It’s Lucy.

His mind is racing to every worst case scenario and his hands are shaking when he brings the phone to his ear. “H- Hello?”

”Buck! God I hope you picking up means you’re still at the station…” 

“Uh, ye- yeah… I am,” Buck replies, already taking the stairs down two at a time. “Why? What— whats wrong?”

”It’s Tommy—” Nothing more really needs to be said after that; he is leaving now regardless… But he knocks on Bobby’s door and steps inside anyway, putting the phone on speaker so they both can hear Lucy continue. ”He got a weird call… and he started getting really upset about it. He wouldn’t talk to me— next thing I know he is dipping out without an explanation and Cap just said he asked to go home.” There’s a pause, then a sigh. “He seemed really upset, Buck… I— I’ve never seen him like that.”

”Go,” is all Bobby says; it’s all he has to say. Buck turns on his heels and leaves without even changing out of his uniform first.

He pulls his Jeep to a stop behind Tommy’s truck and sees the front door sitting open. Not a good sign since Tommy has learned the hard way about opening his home to the many strays in his neighborhood— one destroyed couch later and he swore he was getting a screen door and no more feeding them inside. He still hasn’t got that screen door and yet now his front door is wide open. 

Buck walks up the steps of the porch about to call out when he is hit with the scent of Lysol and bleach wafting out of the house. It's so strong Buck’s eyes start to water and he holds his breath as he enters the house. The hardwood floors are drenched like the cleaning chemicals have just been poured out and left. 

“Tommy?” Buck finally manages around the hand covering his nose and mouth from the fumes. “Babe…”

There’s mumbling coming from the bedroom and Buck makes his way down the hall— carefully because the floors are slippery— and finds Tommy on his hands and knees next to a bucket with a scrub brush clenched in his hands. Bleach spots are covering his dark jeans and the skin on his hands is red and irritated…. He seems unfazed by both, and everything as he scrubs, all the while saying something Buck can’t quite make out.

“Tommy,” Buck tries again. He reaches out and touches Tommy’s shoulder, causing him to jump in response. “Hey— Hey, it’s just me…”

“Oh,” Tommy looks up at Buck through eyes as red and irritated as his hands. “H- Hi. Sorry… I was just—” He looks down at the floor and starts scrubbing again. “I won’t be long… I just— It needs to be sterile… it’s— it’s im- important that it’s completely s- sterile in here b- before we— we start… I won’t be long. I just— it needs to be sterile…” He is scrubbing back and forth, dipping the scrub brush and repeating, absolutely soaking the floor. 

“Tommy…” Buck tries, again; and again he doesn’t get much by way of a coherent response.

“I’m— I’m almost done, baby… then we can… we can do whatever you want, okay?” 

“I don’t want to do anything, Tommy… Lucy was just worried about you, I’m worried about you.”

“Why? I’m— I’m fine.” 

“You’re clearly not…” Buck sighs. Tommy continues to scrub dip scrub dip and Buck finally grabs his hand. “Tommy stop! What— what are you doing?!”

“Stop it! Let me go! It— It has to be sterile!” Tommy cries out, trying to snatch his hand back. “He’s— He’s going to be so mad if it’s not ready— It has to be ready when he gets home! It has to be—” His breaths are coming in short fast gasps and at some point he reaches up and wipes at his eye, instantly hissing in pain from the bleach water. 

Buck springs into action hooking a hand under Tommy’s arm and hoisting him up and into the bathroom to flush out his eye. “Here, let me,” he says, guiding Tommy to lean over the sink so he can splash water up onto his face. He does it a few times then checks with Tommy on how it feels. 

“Better,” Tommy says. He washes the bleach water off his hands, and leans heavily against the counter. “I’m losing my mind…” he says with a sharp sarcastic laugh. “Which— that’s exactly what he wants.” Buck runs a hand over Tommy’s back, and he thankfully loosens some of h the tension at the touch. He looks at Buck, eyes red and puffy. “Jonah called the station today… He— I don’t even know how he managed it… but he did— he asked for me, and I didn’t— I didn’t know it was him until—”

Buck wants to be angry— he is angry— but he needs to calm Tommy down right now. He pulls him into his arms, and presses kisses to his temple and his cheek. “I got you,” he says when he feels Tommy let out a shaky breath against him. “It’s okay…” 

“It’s not okay,” Tommy says, and Buck’s heart breaks at how small his voice sounds. He reaches into his pocket and grabs his phone, then leads Tommy out of the bathroom, and the bedroom, and the house, into the fresh air, while he calls Athena. 

He hopes the call to Tommy’s station will help them get Tommy out of the trial… but Athena unfortunately says it won’t. Jonah calling Tommy is not against the law because Tommy chose to not report any of the abuse he suffered, and a phone call alone isn’t grounds for a harassment accusation. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy waited outside the restaurant, nerves rattling, chewing on a cuticle until he was sure it was about to start bleeding. It had been almost a year since he’d been on an actual date, and he wouldn’t even be on this one if Howie hadn’t been so annoyingly insistent. 

He talked him into downloading that silly dating app… talked him into taking his profile seriously… and talked him into taking the date with the seventh guy he matched with. Seventh because a.) the first six he’d quickly declined without even really looking at them, and b.) because Howie is almost comically superstitious. “Sevens a lucky number man! Come on. Give this one a try.” Tommy rolled his eyes, and said he’d look it over when he got home. 

He did.

And reluctantly he agreed to the date.

He was almost certain he’d been stood up— five minutes late isn’t typically cause for concern, but his expectations were very low and his heart was still on the mend from its last break. That made five minutes feel like five hours, and he was starting to contemplate leaving when the guy finally arrived. 

Jonah. 

Still fairly new to California, and a paramedic with the Glendale Fire department… so he was a first responder like Tommy. He understood the job, that was intriguing enough. He held out a hand and Tommy shook it. 

Pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes… he wore a flirtatious, but friendly, grin and a fedora. Tommy thought he shouldn’t have become so easily smitten with his charm… but damn was it hard. Tommy held the door for him, pulled out his chair, and let him order the wine— Jonah leaned in, lips curling up as he asked, “Do you ever just sit back and let yourself be the one taken care of?” 

Tommy was at a loss of words. 

Because he rarely did. 

So he decided to dial it back, and Jonah slid into the role with ease. He paid for the meal, ran his hand down Tommy’s arm and laced their fingers together, and even was the one to pull Tommy into a kiss before the Uber came to take him away. 

Their next date he did much of the same. 

The date after that Tommy let Jonah take him home… take him to bed… take him apart. Jonah quickly became everything Tommy thought he had been missing. 

It made it so easy— too easy for Jonah to become Tommy’s everything. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buck holds the door open for Tommy as they walk inside the Courthouse. He dips his head like he does every time Buck does anything for him— a look always crossing his face, like he is uneasy, or isn’t sure how to react to it— before he finally smiles and thanks him. 

Buck used to take a little offense to it. He loved the pampering Tommy gave him, he’d never gotten that before… but he loved being the one giving, and doing. He loved spoiling and showing off his partner, but Tommy always got that look, so Buck tried to limit it. 

Knowing what he knows now, he thinks he finally gets why it’s so unsettling for Tommy, and Buck is hellbent on reconditioning his boyfriend’s brain. Soon he will be able to shower him with affection and it won’t make him think a request, or some level of abuse is going to follow. He quickly returns to Tommy’s side and wraps an arm around him; Tommy immediately leans into the gesture, and Buck presses a kiss to his temple. 

Tommy has progressively gotten more solemn since Jonah’s call— even more since he told Buck about the significance of the date the trial is on. “This year was going to be different…” he’d said. “I wasn’t going to have to think about it, or him… and now—” He sighed deeply and let his head fall into his hands. “It’s like I can’t escape him… no matter how hard I try.”

They reach the DAs office and Tommy collapses down into one of the chairs after being greeted. The DA is a shorter man, with a serious face. He doesn’t seem unfriendly but he doesn’t seem too approachable either. Talking to the DA would help them prepare for what could be coming, Athena said, and Buck wants nothing more than for them to get through this day as quickly and painlessly as possible. 

Still, he knows to keep his expectations low. 

As Athena had already informed them, Jonah’s call would get them nowhere by means of avoiding the trial. “However…” the DA went on to say. “We can try to prepare you for questions Mr. Greenway’s lawyer might hit you with.” Tommy takes a deep breath and nods, and the DA begins with some routine questions: What is your name? What is your relation to the defendant? Do you know why you were called here today? 

“I’m actually not sure…” Tommy admits. 

“S- Surely this man can’t think you would speak on his behalf… he— he tried to…” Buck stops speaking when Tommy slowly moves his eyes to him. This isn’t his business to tell, so he will let Tommy decide what to share with the DA and he will stay close for support. 

Tommy sighs, and he retells his story. The DA listens, brows pulled tightly together. The story’s hard to hear, Buck can attest to that… but he is on Tommy’s side— this man doesn’t even know Tommy. There’s a pause once Tommy has finished giving the DA the gist. A long pause.

“Why would you allow him to do something like that to you, Mr. Kinard?” 

Buck snaps into protective mode, an arm wrapping around Tommy’s back. “Hey, that— that sounds like you're blaming him—” 

“I can assure you I’m not,” the DA sighs. “But, sir, do you honestly think the defendant's lawyer is going to be any friendlier?” Buck settles back into his seat with that; Tommy squeezes his hand, and he gives him a quick apologetic glance. He doesn’t want to make this any worse or more awkward for him… it’s just— he can’t stand the thought of people putting him down either… This wasn’t his fault, and yet Buck knows Tommy thinks a part of it was. “I know the question is heavy, and hard to answer… but please, if you would; help me to understand.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t long before those bright blue eyes turned cold, and that warm inviting smile felt like it was masking something that made Tommy’s instincts scream at him to turn and run. Soon the care he insisted on giving came with a price, and that price grew and grew. 

Favors became demands that soon were expected without question or prompting. The kind voice that had melted Tommy’s insides could so quickly fill with venom it left Tommy reeling from the whiplash and always wondering how he let himself get here. He was a little relieved Jonah wanted to keep their relationship private… Tommy was so embarrassed with himself for how absolutely toxic he let things become. He was so embarrassed with himself for being too weak to walk away. 

So weak in fact when Jonah suggested living together, he didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

“Nice going, stupid…” Jonah spat on their first night in the new apartment. Tommy had taken the day off to unpack, Jonah had a shift until 8pm. He just wanted to have dinner ready… but Jonah came home upset, and Tommy neglected the time trying to tame his temper. This led to that and even with the small fire quickly snuffed out, LAFD was contacted and en route to the apartment. 

Thankfully it wasn’t the 118 who responded…

Instead, when Tommy pulled the door open as far as the chain lock would let him, he was met with 133 on the helmets and faces he only knew in passing. “Uh… hey! It’s— it’s Daryl right?” 

“Hey, Kinard?!” The man seemed shocked to see a fellow firefighter at the scene of an alarm call, Tommy couldn’t really blame him. He was so embarrassed— maybe that was a good thing since the flush of his cheeks hopefully hid the redness Jonah’s hand left behind. He wasn’t always physical, and he always apologized eventually… Besides, it was deserved… It was fine.

“Y- Yeah… sorry w- we— I just moved in, and it’s been a long day... but everything is under control.”

“Mind if I check anyway?” Daryl asked. “Not that I don’t believe you…” he quickly followed it with. “It’s just my captain will be all up my ass if I don’t…”

It’s protocol. Tommy knew that. Jonah knew that. But no one knew Tommy and Jonah were together… “Uh, yeah… of— of course,” Tommy said, then slowly pushed the door shut. Jonah scowled at him and took off to the bedroom. Tommy could keep him in the kitchen— that’s where the fire was, that’s all he needed to see… Tommy hoped. 

Thankfully it was, and Daryl assured him again it was nothing personal. “It's just… you know… the job.” 

“You’re fine,” Tommy said, trying to slowly walk Daryl back to the door. “Rules are rules… Sorry you had to come out here for nothing!” 

“Oh that’s fine; it killed time, and I didn’t even have to do anything since you already had it under control! I’ll see you around Kinard.” 

Tommy pushed the door closed behind him

And waited for Jonah to wander out of the bedroom. He didn’t. He waited for Jonah to call him into the bedroom. He didn’t. He took a deep breath and made his way to the bedroom instead. “Baby…” he said, pushing the door open. “He’s gone, Jonah…” Tommy stopped just inside the room, staring at Jonah standing ominously beside the bed. A black bag sitting on top of the mattress.

“Must be nice to get recognition for what you can do…” Jonah said bitterly. “To have people know you are actually good at your job…” 

“Baby… you’re amazing at your job! You know that.”

“I know that I know that, Tommy,” Jonah hissed. “It's them! My captain, my coworkers…”

“I know it,” Tommy counters. “I know that you are the most skilled paramedic out there. LAFD would be lucky to have you…” 

Words that should have never left his lips! But he hadn’t known— could never have known Jonah would leave his department for Tommy’s… 

“They would be… wouldn’t they?” Jonah said, slowly turning to face him. “Do you feel lucky to have me, baby?” 

“Of course…”

Jonah walked over to him, his hands held out to Tommy and Tommy quickly took them; he quickly latched on to the first hints of affection after Jonah had been so angry earlier. “Would you let me take care of you? Let me repay you for the sweet thoughtful gesture… even though you failed miserably and now we have to order take out.” Tommy didn’t even flinch at the insult laced compliment. He was so embarrassingly used to it… 

Jonah reached up and cupped Tommy’s cheek, still tender from earlier… Tommy leans into the touch— craves the gentle touch. “I’m so sorry…” he whispered.

“I know you are,” Jonah replied. “That’s why you’re going to do what I ask now, right?” 

“Anything.”

“Good boy.” 

He should have said no. He should have walked away.  

Jonah led him to the bed and pushed him down to sit on it. Then he leaned down and began kissing him. It quickly heated up and Jonah eased Tommy’s shirt up and off; he gently eased him back to lie on the bed, climbing on to straddle his hips. He continued kissing him, kissing over him, while Jonah managed to keep Tommy pinned down to the bed like a weight with a simple ‘Don’t move’. Tommy was defenseless against his orders. 

Suddenly Jonah was digging through the bag with one hand, pulling things out and sitting them beside Tommy’s body. He finally broke his lips away from Tommy’s skin and hovered over his face. “I want to try something with you, okay? But I need you to trust me…”

Tommy nodded.

“Use your words, Tommy.”

“I- I trust you.” 

With that Jonah pushed up enough to grab one of the things that were now touching Tommy’s side. A rubber tourniquet… he began to tie it around Tommy’s arm. “You know I would never hurt you, right?” 

Tommy nodded; Jonah glared. “Y- yes. I know that.”

“I’m good at what I do.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“You’re a- amazing… at what you do baby. The best.” That made Jonah smile. He leaned down and kissed Tommy again, softly this time. Tommy tried to chase after him as he pulled away but he held him in place with one hand. “Jonah…” he practically whined. 

“Patience. I need to get everything ready.” Tommy watches as Jonah pulls on a pair of latex gloves, popping them to his wrist with an almost playful grin. He nervously laughed at it, and tried to steady his breathing. Then Jonah picked up a little glass bottle and a syringe…

“Jo- Jonah… what— what is that?”

“Shhh… you said you trusted me? Right?” Tommy didn't respond. Jonah didn’t seem to mind, too focused on drawing the liquid up into the needle. “I’m going to prove to you how good I am at saving lives.”

He puts the bottle down and flicks the syringe, squeezing the medicine inside up until a drop comes out of the tip. Then he begins to bring it towards Tommy’s arm. “I- I already know how good you are… you— you don’t have to prove anything to m- me.”

“Oh but believing and seeing are two completely different things, baby. I’m giving you the chance to see my skills in action.” 

Tommy could have fought him off. He should have fought him off. He laid there instead frozen out of fear… and obedience. “I- I’m scared… Jonah,” he admitted, partially anticipating it to piss Jonah off. It surprisingly didn’t.

“Here… I’ll hold your hand,” he offered smiling and there wasn’t a single trace of love or compassion… Tommy had never seen a more insincere smile— it was enough, it would have to be. Tommy stared at Jonah’s face, at that smile… and clung to the memories of the very beginning, when things were good, and the made up future he knew he’d nerved have.

It started to work so fast. Tommy gasped and began to hyperventilate. Jonah leaned over him and kissed his cheek. “Jo- Jo- Jonah…” Tommy managed, feeling a tear slip from his eye. “L- Love you…” just in case he never got to say it again.

Jonah didn’t say it back.

Tommy’s eyes closed.

Then he felt a sharp jolt as life rushed back into his body. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was like just talking about Jonah drained every ounce of energy out of Tommy. Not that Buck could be too surprised, every new story was so heavy and intense— he imagined reliving those nightmares would be draining. 

They ran into Athena near the front entrance of the courthouse, and Tommy nudged Buck’s arm when he stopped to talk. “No rush,” he quickly said before Buck could excuse them. “Just gimme the keys.” 

Buck knows Tommy desperately doesn’t want extra attention given to him from all of this, so he doesn’t press to wait, or insist he just go with him and instead just hands him the keys to his Jeep. Tommy thanks him with a soft, tired smile, leaning in for a kiss, and getting a hug from Athena as well. She runs over his back before pulling back so he can go.

“How’s he holding up?” she asks once he’s gone.

“Barely,” Buck sighs. “This is— it’s so much bigger than what we knew… Jonah was— he is a monster. He put him through hell… and now—” Athena gives him a look like she gets it; he knows she gets it after her nightmare with Jeffrey Hudson. “I just don’t know what to do to help him.” 

“Trust me Buck,” Athena says, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “You’re doing more than you think just by being there for him— with him. He knows you have his back, and Jonah is going to prison… He can not hurt him anymore. This is nothing but a hurdle.” 

Buck nods. “You— you think we could have some extra security in the courtroom for the trial? Just— just as extra precaution.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks ‘Thena— what the hell!?” Buck gasps and leans his body over to better see around Athena and out the front doors where Tommy is standing at the foot of the stairs. He glares at the side profile of a woman with long wavy red hair standing in front of him. “Taylor…” Buck hisses and is moving without another word to Athena. “You have got to be kidding me,” he says loudly, taking the courthouse stairs two at a time. 

She turns and flashes him that camera ready smile, and Tommy looks beyond relieved. “Hey Buck,” she says nonchalantly. “How’s it—”

“Save it,” Buck snaps back, and she actually looks surprised by the hostility. “Hey… are— are you okay?” He asks Tommy, who nods despite looking peaked and nauseous. Taylor looks back and forth between them; her curiosity is clearly peaked. “Come on, sweetheart…” Buck says, ignoring the way her eyes widen at the pet name and her grin stretches. “You don’t have to talk to her…” he says, gently nudging him to walk away from Taylor. 

“Wow,” she exclaims, more so under her breath, brows raised, causing Buck to give her an exhaustive, questioning look. “I did not see that coming. But… I’m happy for you.” 

Buck sighs at her friendly demeanor— the obliviousness as if she is doing nothing wrong. He knows she likely doesn’t think she’s doing anything wrong. “What are you doing here? Why are you talking to him?”

“I’m covering the trial,” she says point blank. “It was my story after all.”

“No…” Buck scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, Taylor, it was definitely not your story… you just made sure you were the one who got to tell it.”

“Buck—”

Tommy shifts beside him, and Buck sighs. He told Tommy that he and Taylor had dated… how it ended when she went behind not only his, but all of their backs and shared the story after being explicitly asked not to. He knows he didn’t have a leg to stand on with who hurt who more in their relationship; he’d cheated on her. It wasn’t about him, though… had he been the only one hurt by her rushing to get the credit for the story, he could have let that go. She hurt his family. 

He isn’t letting her do that again. 

“Don’t…” he cuts her off, unable to hear her excuses disguised as justifications. “You don’t care about the people who were hurt by him, you only care about your story.” 

“This story is my way to help everyone hurt by Jonah. Telling their story. T- Telling Tommy’s story!”

“You don’t even know Tommy’s story.” 

“I do actually…” she says.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d only just been released from the hospital, and had nowhere to go. He couldn’t go home— back to the apartment. Too many memories, and pretty much none of them were good. So he sat on a bench outside the hospital and scrolled through his phone, looking for a cheap hotel. 

Footsteps approached and he had half a mind to ignore that they were clearly approaching him. He was so tired, and sore, and— fuck, a million other things… He just wanted to be alone. For once in a long while he craved the loneliness he knew was waiting for him. He can’t be hurt if there’s no one to hurt him. 

“Hey, Kinard— uh, T- Tommy…” 

Tommy sighed and looked up at Daryl. His hands tucked deep into his pockets, face pulled into a deep frown, his expression like he had a million questions and was unsure where or how to start. “Hey,” Tommy replied. 

“I came to check on ya, after— after I heard about everything…” he explained. “Your place was all taped up; I— I thought…” he broke his eyes away and turned them to the floor, as he shuffled from one foot to the other. “I went out to Harbor and they said you were in the hospital…”

“You— you didn’t mention that me and— and Jonah were—”

“Nah, man…” Daryl quickly replied. He almost sounded offended Tommy would ask. “I knew you two were on the low… I wouldn’t— Fuck Jonah, I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

Tommy smiled up at him, trying to retain the facade he was holding himself together… at least until he was alone, so no one felt the need to pick up the pieces he is fully to blame for getting broken. “Thanks…” 

There’s a silence that builds between them until it’s louder than the sirens of the ambulance turning into the ER… and the bustle of commotion all around them. It makes Tommy’s ears ring. Finally Daryl just spits it out. “Did— Did you know?” 

“No…” Tommy answers. A part of him wants to be upset at the question, but how can he… He should have known, he should have stopped him. “Not until… just before he—”’

“You were in the hospital… be- because of him?” Tommy nods. “Did he— Did he do what he did to Han… to you?” Tommy doesn’t respond. Daryl’s eyes are watery; he sniffs and rubs a hand under his nose. “I— I always suspected he was— you just… you had that look, you know? I’ve seen it plenty of times; they— they want out but they don’t know how to leave. I hate that I never asked.” 

“I would have denied it.” Tommy looks up at him. His own eyes are starting to get misty and he shrugs, offering a weak smile. “I loved him too much… I— I would have denied it…” 

Daryl nods. He wishes Tommy well, and walks away. 

A few nights later Tommy sees him talking to Taylor Kelly about working with Jonah. He never mentions Tommy, or his connection to Jonah; no one does. The officers, and detectives working the case promise he will be kept anonymous, and won’t be called in to testify. 

It’s like Tommy is given a clean slate, to start over and forget all about Jonah Greenway. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who told you?” Buck demands, and Taylor sets her jaw, seemingly unfazed by the rise in his voice. “They had no— no right to tell it. You have no right to know it.”

“Like it or not I’m covering this trial, Buck… And in doing so I do have a right to the information surrounding it, and so does the public— including those who were directly subjected to Jonah’s reign of terror. Even if that’s not what he refers to it as…” 

“You— You talked to Jonah?!” Buck practically yelps in disbelief. 

“He asked to talk to me actually…”

Buck steps back, gawking at Taylor. “So I guess he is the one who brought Tommy into it.”

“He did,” she says. “But I didn’t buy it for a second… none of the things he said— I want to hear Tommy’s side of the story. I want to share Tommy’s side of the story with the rest of Jonah’s victims.”

“I’m not a victim,” Tommy— who has been extremely quiet the entire time— finally says. Buck wraps an arm around him, tries to object and Tommy tenses, pulling away. “I’m— I’m not… I’m not. I wasn't forced to— to let him… I let him because— because I’m weak.”

“Tommy,” Buck tries, and Tommy shakes his head.

“I should have— I could have stopped him. I didn’t and someone died, Evan…Howie almost died. Now it’s all coming out and— and I deserve this…” He looks from Buck to Taylor, with red rimmed, teary eyes; his breathing coming in sharp gasps.

Buck recognizes the panic attack immediately; he’s had multiple since getting the summons. He pushes past Taylor to get Tommy the rest of the way to the Jeep. He opens the door and ushers Tommy onto the passenger seat. “Just breathe, Tommy. You’re okay,” he says softly, one hand rubbing over Tommy’s back the other holding his head steady so he keeps his eyes up on Buck’s. 

“I- I should be— be on trial with him… Evan. I- I should be in prison with him,” he cries before clutching at his chest. Buck tries to assure him that’s not true and everyone— Hen and Chimney… even Claudette’s family— would say the same, but Tommy shakes his head. “Ev- Evan it— it hurts…” he gasps, tapping on his chest. 

“I know, sweetheart, you just have to steady your breathing, so you can calm down, okay?” He runs his thumb over Tommy’s cheek, leans in so he can press their foreheads together. “I’m right here, I got you… you’re safe. I’m here. I love you.” 

Tommy finally exhales, shakily. “I love you too…” he replies, sounding exhausted. 

Buck’s heart is breaking for him, then out of the corner of his eye he sees Taylor, notices the recorder still in her hand, the red light still lit. 

“You’re seriously still recording?!” Buck snaps, before stepping away from the Jeep so he can close the door and put something between her and Tommy. “You have no idea what he’s been through, Taylor… You may think you're helping, but— but you’re not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

36 year old male. No known health problems. Suffers from cardiac arrest after being rescued from an oil rig collapse. Dies in the back of an LAFD helicopter during transport to Presbyterian.

Tommy listened as their medics tried time and time again to resuscitate him. He listened to the loud buzzing of the flatline until they called it and turned the machine off. Then came the silence. Respect to the departed, and all that… but Tommy hated it. In the silence his thoughts had freedom to get loud. 

A heart attack… at 36? They’d clip your wings so fast… 

Tommy couldn’t remember another time in his career that a simple transport took so long. When he finally returned to Harbor Station he could feel his pulse in his eyeballs, and he still had fifteen hours to go. It was only his first day back… He got a couple concerned questions throughout the rest of the shift; he brushed them off. Somehow he managed to get through it.

He got back to the airBnB he was staying at (just until the loan he’d taken out for a fixer upper on the outskirts of the city cleared) early the next day and crashed through the front door. His breathing was coming in gasps and his heart was pounding. Jonah’s voice was in his ear telling him everything he’d done wrong, everything the medics had done wrong. I would have saved him, his voice said. Who’s going to save you? 

Tommy made it to the bedroom, got over to the bed and tried to just lay down. He curled up on his side, closed his eyes… It did not help. It felt like there was a weight on his chest, pressing him down into the mattress and pinning him in place. Unable to move, unable to breathe… 

This is going to be how you die, Tommy… All alone.

At the foot of the bed were the few suitcases filled with everything he owned. Somehow he managed to move down the bed to reach them and got the first one open. He dug around the clothes inside until his hand bumped against the bag with the defibrillator he’d used on himself. 

It took him a minute but he got it out, set it up, and attached it to his chest… all the while it felt like his heart was over pumping blood to his head, and it was about to explode. 

He clutched at his chest, trying to suck in a breath. He collapsed back onto the mattress once everything was ready, trying to slow his breathing. The machine whirred as it came to life, scanned his heart, and Tommy waited anxiously. Shock not advised. Tommy exhaled and ripped the pads off… He curled back up on his side and cried. 

Cried because he was apparently okay.

Cried because he really wasn't okay…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a little chilly in LA the morning of the trial. The sun is hidden behind a blockade of thick clouds, casting a dreary kind of lighting over the city. It’s fitting, Buck thinks. 

The first thing he spots as they pull into a parking spot is Taylor’s van parked up by the courthouse. She changed her approach from live coverage to an overview after the trial. Buck wonders if it’s because they didn’t greenlight the live coverage, or if, perhaps, she’d had a minor change of heart. He hurries around his Jeep to Tommy, sliding an arm around his back protectively as they start up towards the courthouse entrance. 

Taylor is on the other side of her van giving what Buck assumes is an intro piece. They walk past her with Buck giving a warning ‘Don’t even think about it’, when she spots them and seems to be about to approach them.

The courtroom is already filling up; families of those Jonah had hurt, come to hopefully see their loved ones receive some kind of justice. Also among them are those who Jonah had attacked— both unknowingly, and knowingly. Hen and Chim wave at them when they step through the double doors. “Can we sit in the back?” Tommy asks, eyes locked on the defendant’s chair— still empty, for now. 

Buck tightens his hold, pulling Tommy closer to his body so he can press a kiss to his temple. “Of course.” Still the distance doesn’t soothe Tommy’s nerves much, and the closer the clock brings them towards the trial, Tommy starts getting more antsy and anxious in his seat, so Buck wraps an arm around his shoulder. “Just focus on this side, your family… me. Ignore him.” Tommy nods and relaxes into Buck’s embrace, and just closes his eyes. “I got you,” Buck assures him.

Almost the entirety of the 118 shows up. The 217 come as well; Lucy stops at Tommy and hugs him before finding a seat. Sal even drove down for support to his old friends. He smiles at Tommy, sitting down in front of him and Buck, cracking a joke about catching Jonah outside the courthouse to Buck that makes him laugh, and Tommy rolls his eyes with a soft smile. 

“So how about that crew that has your back when things get hard?” Buck whispers in Tommy’s ear. 

He smiles. “I’m sure Hen and Howie— and the others—  are very grateful to everyone for being so supportive.”

Buck feels his brows pull together. “They’re here for you too, Tommy.” That gets him a look of distress more than relief. Buck is sure he hears him  mumble ‘I doubt that…’ but he doesn’t question it. 

The side doors open, getting everyone’s attention, and Jonah is led into the courtroom handcuffed and shackled, bearing a maniacal grin that makes Buck’s stomach turn; how could he look so smug— so happy. His eyes scan the courtroom and eventually find them tucked away in the back corner, and the grin widens. He does his best to lift his hand, and waves. 

Jonah looks between Buck and Tommy, laughing when it seems to click that they are together. Tommy eventually lifts his eyes, meeting Jonah’s and as soon as he does Jonah blows a kiss in their direction. Buck tightens his arm around Tommy. “Just don’t look at him,” he whispers, and Tommy nods, turning his eyes back down to his hands. He picks at the dark blue polish on his thumb nails; he had let Jee paint them the day before… It helps stop him from biting them.

The judge enters, they rise for her and sit back down… and the trial begins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He should have died that night.

Tommy sat on the porch swing he just finished installing. Tested that it would hold his weight then kicked off with his feet. He looked out at his little section of the quiet neighborhood and wished it felt more like home. 

He’d wanted this with Jonah. He’d suggested buying a house when Jonah brought up living together… but Jonah never wanted permanence with Tommy. He sees that now. He didn’t want anyone to know they were together, so when he inevitably wasn’t able to resuscitate him one day— or he just didn’t want to— he could leave and it would look like Tommy’d had a heart attack. 

Except when that day actually came… Tommy survived. 

He should have done something…

When Hen was telling him what they found, he should have taken that information and stopped Jonah before he ever had a chance to go attack them. He knew where Jonah kept his bag of supplies. He could have hidden it. He could have refused to go get it. 

He’d known what Jonah was capable of… he’d seen it first hand.

“You have no idea how much you help me, baby.” Jonah had said one time as they prepared for their little game of life and death. Tommy always said the last time would be the last time… and yet he always ended up back in that chair… “You’re helping me keep my skill set sharp… if I didn’t have you, who would I have to practice on? It’s not like I can just… use an unsuspecting person on a call…” 

“You— you wouldn’t—” Tommy countered quickly, but Jonah leaned in and kissed him, before sticking the needle into his vein. 

“You are so special to me. You help me so much…” he said.

That shut down every alarm he’d set off. Now, instead, Tommy felt important— he felt like he was vital to Jonah.  

He should not be free…

The letter in his hands felt heavy as he continued to ignore it in lieu of focusing on his surroundings. The cool breeze, the neighbors out talking, the kids riding bikes.

Numerous calls from the prison to his cell, until he changed his number, and then the letters started coming in. First they were addressed to the apartment, and came mixed in with his other redirected mail. The one he was holding, however… was made out to his new address. 

That made Tommy feel sick. 

He didn’t open it. Instead he ripped it up and tossed it in the outside trash can.

A few days later a man showed up at Harbor. 

Wiry shoulder length hair, and wide bloodshot eyes. He walked right up to Tommy and said he’d been chosen by the Angel of Death. He said that he defied him by not dying that night. He said one day the Angel would be back for him. 

His captain said the man sounded crazy and called the police to come take him away. 

Tommy slept with his defibrillator that night… He attached it and randomly checked just to hear the ’shock not advised’ message. Then he would settle enough to just about fall asleep, before his heart rate would pick back up— memories would flood back in… and he’d have to check again. 

Shock Not Advised. 

Shock Not Advised.

Shock Not Advised. 

Shock Not Advised.

Shock… Advised…

“Huh…” Tommy mumbled, half asleep. He turned the machine off then back on and waited. 

Shooock… Adviiiised…

The words were not the machine's usual mechanical voice. This voice was garbled and distorted. This voice… sounded like Jonah

Shhooock- ck- ck… AAAAd- Adviiis- sed… Advi- viseeed…

Shock… Advised… Advised… Advised…

Shock…

Shock…

SHOCK!

It was yelled right in his ear and his eyes shot open. His thumb over the button, tense and ready to press it. He snatched it away and ripped the pads off his chest… grabbing the machine and carrying it to his closet. With tears in his eyes, and his heart pounding perhaps the hardest it ever had before… he shoved the defibrillator to the back of the top shelf. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chimney is the first to be called up.

“Please state your name for the jury,” the DA says, stepping around the table and towards the stand.

“Howard Han,” Chimney replies, his friendly smile on full display despite the situation at hand. It stays put through the DA’s list of questions, through his retelling of his version of the night he and Hen were attacked, then how he saved them by fighting back. “Well I had already been killed and brought back upteen times, upteen and one might have been the real deal… I had to do something,” Chimney jokes. 

Buck watches Maddie sigh and run a hand over her small bump; Karen pulls her into a hug. The details of that night hang heavy over everyone’s head. It causes him to cringe as Chimney continues to light heartedly crack jokes with the DA, making light of it… It causes Tommy to tense and shift uncomfortably next to him. At some point he just leans forward as if he’s resting his head in his hands… but is really covering his ears. 

“Hey… I’m alive,” Chimney says after the DA apologizes for his questions and for bringing up difficult memories. “I get to leave here and go home to my beautiful wife and daughter, about to be two daughters— so save your condolences for my sanity, I’m tripley outnumbered here—” the courtroom erupts into laughter. “Those memories mean nothing to me anymore.” 

Buck looks to see Jonah’s reaction… or lack of more like. He’s not even donning his crazy grin anymore. 

The DA takes a seat. 

The defense attorney stands up. 

“You never worked with my client, is that correct Mr. Han?”

“That is correct,” Chimney replies. “He was at the 118 in my absence; he was transferred very close to my return. I hardly knew the guy…”

“You were familiar with his partner at the time, though…”

Chimney looks at the man confused, and thinks for a moment. “His partner? I— I mean I know of him… Daryl Richards, I believe.”

“No,” the defense attorney laughs. “I’m talking about his romantic partner.” 

“Like I said, sir… I hardly knew the guy,” Chimney says, and the defense attorney smirks, opening his mouth like he’s about to dive into an explanation. “However, yes. I do know that he was with Tommy at the time of all this,” Chimney says first.

“Did you know this at the time?” 

Chimney sighs, looks over towards Buck and Tommy sympathetically— though Tommy is still hunched over and doesn’t see it. “I did not,” he finally admits.

”Is it correct that you used to work with Thomas Kinard, on the 118? You even stayed in touch with him once he left.” 

“That’s correct.”

“Would you call your relationship that of friends?” 

“We are friends. Tommy is a very good friend.”

the defense attorney nods along, twirling a pen around on one hand as he pauses before the next question. “Then why didn’t you know about his relationship with Jonah… until now?”

Buck tightens his arm around Tommy. “What the hell is he going for here…” he mumbles under his breath.

Chimney quickly deflects the somewhat accusatory question with a shrug. “I’m not owed insight into his love life, I don’t care if we were the absolute best of friends.” The teasing tone of his voice is gone, and he’s having quite the staring competition with not only the defense attorney, but Jonah too. Buck watches him go from glaring at one to the other.

“I knew he was in a relationship at the time, and the person wanted to keep it quiet. Tommy respected him enough to do so, and I respected Tommy enough to not pry. That's all there was to it.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, man! You can’t keep this from me, we're buddies!” Howie practically whined. Tommy smiled around the opening of his beer bottle and rolled his eyes. Tommy was quite a few dates into his and Jonah’s relationship and Howie was curious about… ‘who it was that had him smiling like that.’ 

“He’s, uh— he’s very private, and he’s not fully out yet.” 

Howie threw his hands up, quickly defeated. “You know what, I don’t even care…” he said. “All I care about is that you’re happy, and as far as I can see mopey Tommy is no longer reeling from his heartbreak and this new cheesy Tommy is absolutely adorable.” Another eyeroll, except this one, is accompanied by a deep blush spreading across Tommy’s cheeks. “Speaking of adorable,” Chimney continues. “Look at her,” he breaks out a picture of Maddie, deeply sleeping on the couch— her mouth hanging open, her hair a mess. “Morning sickness is really kicking her butt.”

“She’s gonna be kicking your butt if you keep taking pictures of her without her knowing, then showing them off… and I’ll hold you down so she can!” 

“Hey now, you’re supposed to be my friend here, traitor!” 

Howie laughed; Tommy laughed. Both were so happy with their lives at that moment… both would lose that happiness so very soon... At least Howie got his back…

*

Tommy knocked on the door to Howie’s hospital room. He’d just been discharged moments earlier, but Howie would probably be here another day or so. “Hey…” he said, pushing the door open, and walking inside. 

“Hey Tommy!” Howie said brightly, despite the peakedness in his eyes. Jonah had really done a number on him, it made Tommy sick to his stomach. “What brings you in?” 

Tommy could never tell when Howie was just fucking with him, or is serious. So if Hen had told him everything, Tommy wasn’t sure. The facade never let up, though. Howie never mentioned Jonah more than a remark about the incident, then in true Howie fashion he was on to other— much happier— topics. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Chimney leaves the stand, and is walking back to his seat, Tommy finally lifts his head back up. He quickly averts his eyes from Chimney, looking back down at his hands, at the window… at the jurors. Chimney bypasses his seat and comes right over to Tommy’s, pulling him into a hug. “I love ya, man.”

Buck hears Tommy suck in a sharp shaky breath. He nods into the embrace and mumbles something inaudible, but Chimney smiles at it and returns to his seat. 

The next person called up is Hen. 

Again the DA sticks to the source material. Asks about her time working with Jonah, his transfer, and Claudette’s untimely death. He has her explain her suspicions, and her findings… and finally, once again, the court is hearing her own recount of that night. 

Again��� the defense comes for Hen’s friendship with Tommy. “So Mrs. Wilson… tell me about the call you received the day of the attack.”

Hen sighs, likely since she already talked about the call with the DA. “Jonah called me—”

“So sorry to interrupt you, Mrs. Wilson… but not that call.” Hen stares at him confused. “The one before that. Is it true you received a call from Mr. Kinard before you spoke with my client. He was upset with you… for digging into my client's past.”

“I’m sorry, I’m confused how you even know about that…” Hen says without answering. 

“The cameras…” Tommy whispers, then laughs sarcastically. “I- I always… suspected…” he continues, looking at Buck. “He would know things: things I’d done while he was gone, people who came over, things that were said. I knew he had cameras on me… I just never found them.” 

The defense requests Hen just answer the question, and the judge presses that she does as well. “Yes. I spoke to Tommy that day, and— and he was upset I was digging. Yes.” 

“He asked you to drop it, correct?”

“Yes.”

The attorney gives another drawn out pause. He walks over to his table and takes a sip of water, and Buck catches him locking eyes momentarily with Jonah. “Were you aware Mr. Kinard encouraged my client to get to know you, Mrs. Wilson?” 

“I was not,” Hen says. 

“How does that information make you feel?” 

Hen narrows her eyes at the attorney. “I don’t understand… Am I supposed to feel a certain way from that?” She doesn’t give the man a moment to counter her statement with more questions before saying, “Tommy is a friend. Jonah was my partner. It makes sense he would like for us to get along.”

“But you didn’t even know they were together.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

The defense attorney scoffs. “Did it not matter when you were being attacked? When you were watching your best friend have his heart stopped and restarted, over and over and over.”

“That had nothing to do with Tommy,” Hen snaps back. “I- I don’t understand these questions. Jonah is the one on trial, not Tommy. Why is this suddenly about him?”

“I’m just trying to see the full picture here, Mrs. Wilson,” the man says, calmly. “That perhaps— at the very least— my client isn’t the only one at fault…” 

Buck nearly leaps out of his seat at that, and Tommy holds on to him tightly to stop it.

“Jonah is the only one at fault here,” Hen says. “I almost lost two friends that night, because of him,” she looks directly at Tommy as she says that. “He deserves to rot in jail.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hen pulled up out front of Tommy’s house. 

He walked out of the garage where he’d just finished setting up his Muay Thai mats and a workout bench, and waved at her. “Sorry for my rugged appearance,” he teased, gesturing to his haggard appearance: a stretched out and holey shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and some tattered gym shorts. “Wasn’t expecting visitors…” He never expected visitors. 

“Chim said your new place was niceee…” Hen laughed. “I needed to see for myself.”

They navigated to the kitchen island, sitting on the barstools with glasses of sweet tea, catching up. “How’s Howie doing?” Tommy asked. 

“He’s better,” she replied, resting her head on one hand. “How are you doing?”

Tommy shrugged, and sighed. “I’ve been through worse,” he said… and he had… but at the same time, this hurt was so different. It was deep rooted, and he wondered if he’d ever be truly free from it.

*

It didn’t take long for Evan to almost have him free from it. He worked tirelessly— and in the beginning… he didn’t even realize he was doing it— chopping away at the bigger roots, breaking them up and killing them.

“Still managing to keep up?” Hen asked approaching him after Evan announced, at one of Bobby’s summer barbecues, that he and Tommy were going on a vacation away together. Just a few months in and dropping an insane amount of money to have Evan all to himself for four days and three nights… yeah, he would find a way to manage for that. “He’s a lot to handle… I’m sure,” Hen laughed, looking over to where Evan was playing with all the kids. 

“Yeah, well… He’s worth every bit of it. Besides, I’ve handled way worse.” 

The two were silent for a while, then Hen smiled and nudged him with her elbow. “I’m happy for you, Tommy,” she said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buck paces back and forth in the hall. 

They were dismissed for lunch and Bobby offered to go grab everyone some food; Buck doubts he’ll be able to eat anything. He is too pissed. “What is he— is he trying to pin this all on Tommy?! Is that even legal? Can he do that?! Jonah is the one on trial here!”

Maddie has taken Buck’s place beside Tommy, and is currently trying to distract him from the meltdown Buck can’t seem to stop himself from having by talking to him about the pregnancy. He smiles sympathetically— appreciatively. 

“Jonah is facing life without the possibility of parole…” Athena says. “His lawyer is probably hoping if he can deviate some of the blame to someone else, the jury won’t be able to agree on that.” Buck sees Tommy flinch at that, knowing he is the ‘someone else’. 

Suddenly the doors pull open and the DA hurries out. “Great! I was hoping you all hadn’t gone far,” he says. “So change of plans. Tommy… I’m calling you up before Bobby.” 

“What?!” nearly the entire group says unanimously.

“B- But I thought I wasn’t going up until the defense had the floor,” Tommy adds.

“You weren’t,” the DA replies. “But I don’t like how his attorney keeps bringing you into the narrative. If I don’t get you on that stand to tell your side of the story… before he labels you as an accomplice… your side might not matter to the jury.” 

Not surprisingly after that, no one has much of an appetite once Bobby returns with the food. Everyone just sits and stares at their meals, solemnly waiting to return to the courtroom. 

The DA calls on Tommy as a surprise witness when the trial starts back up. The defense doesn’t seem to care, and the judge allows it. Buck wishes he could walk him to the stand, but the only comfort he can offer is a quick kiss before he goes. 

Just like in his office, the DA asks Tommy a series of common questions; the same ones he asked Hen and Chimney. Then he explains that the defense is making it seem like Tommy was an accomplice in the defendants reign of terror, when in fact he was not; he, too, was subject to it. He turns to Tommy and apologizes for asking him to share what was surely such a difficult time in his life, but he feels it is only fair given how the defense keeps implying Tommy played a part. “If you would, share with the jury exactly what your role in Mr. Greenway’s life was.” 

“A mistake.” Jonah suddenly blurts out, earning him a gavel strike from the judge and his lawyer hissing for him to be quiet. But the word seemed to have an effect on Tommy. 

“Please, Mr, Kinard…” the DA urges him to share his story, and once again— in front of his friends and family, and a bunch of strangers— he does. The courtroom falls into an eerie silence as he tells how they met, how they connected… how they quickly went from a normal couple to the toxic mess they were in the end. “I am so sorry for all you went through, Mr. Kinard. Just… one more question. Did you have any idea Jonah was going to attack Mr. Han, and Mrs. Wilson.” 

Tommy shook his head, a tear falling from his eye. “Not until it was too late.” 

The DA thanks him, and offers a smile… before passing the baton to the defense. The man pushes up to his feet and greets Tommy. “I thought we’d be having this conversation much later, but… no time like the present when it comes to justice being served, am I right?” He doesn’t wait for Tommy to respond before he is walking around the table and towards the stand. “You had been dating my client for quite some time at the time of the incident, isn’t that correct, Mr. Kinard?” Tommy swallows and nods. “I need you to verbally answer the question, sir.”

“Y- yes… almost two years.” 

“And how long had these… games— or, role plays, as you called them— been going on for?” 

“A- A while…” 

“Please elaborate on how long a while is,” the attorney says, crossing his arms.

“It— It started about seven months after we got together. Right after we moved into our apartment.” 

The attorney nods along with the information, walking towards the jury as he says, “That’s more than a year you allowed this man to enact these— would you say, experiments on you.” Again Tommy only nodded. “Out loud, Mr. Kinard.”

“Y- Yes…” Tommy replies, bringing a shaking hand up to wipe his eyes. Bobby has moved to Tommy’s spot, and has a hand resting on Buck's arm, ready to grab him if he moves. 

“So for more than a year, you were aware of what Mr. Greenway was capable of.” Tommy looks up at him, opening his mouth to speak, but no words come out. “For more than a year you were aware he had access to propofol. You were aware because you allowed him to use it on you. You allowed him to stop your heart, so he could then revive you… as part of some pretty dark game between the two of you,  and yet you never suspected he might do it to someone else.” 

“I- I didn’t…”

“What about when you called Mrs. Wilson, and she told you what she’d found.”

“I didn’t believe her at first.”

“At first?” 

Tommy tries to steady his breathing, wiping furiously at his eyes. “No. Not until Jonah said what he was going to do.”

“And you just… didn’t try to stop him.” 

“I- I called the cops on him.”

“You did…” The lawyer agrees, but is looking at Tommy like he’s got two heads. “Why didn’t you just stop him from leaving.”

“I couldn’t,” Tommy gasps out. 

“Why wouldn’t you just stop him from doing this things— playing these games— these role plays, if you weren’t actually enjoying them.” 

“I— I couldn’t!!” 

“You couldn’t… or you chose not to.”

“I wanted to stop him!” Tommy cries out. 

Buck wants to leap across the courtroom, scoop Tommy up and run out with him. He’d expected it to get ugly… this is almost too much to bear. 

The attorney steps close to Tommy and leans himself against the stand by his arms. “You have a very troubled past, so I’ve heard, Mr. Kinard… perhaps you got off on power finally being in your hand, just the same as Mr. Greenway did.”

“That— that’s not true…”

“Then why didn’t you stop him,” the attorney repeats. “He was going to attack two of your so-called friends… and you did nothing to stop him.”

“I wanted to…” 

“But you didn’t. You let him leave. You let him attack them. He almost killed Mr. Han, after the man saved your life… Perhaps that’s what you wanted him to do.” Tommy looks at him with tears in his eyes and shakes his head. “Use your words, Mr. Kinard.” 

“He told me not to move,” Tommy snaps loudly. “I s- swear I didn’t know he was going to do this… but I couldn’t have stopped him regardless.” He breaks his eyes away from the attorney and looks towards Chimney and Hen. “I’m so- so sorry…” he cries then keeps repeating I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry… until his eyes lock on Buck’s, and he finally seems to be able to take a deep breath. 

“Someone needs to stop these questions…” Buck says softly. 

“He told you not to move,” the attorney repeats, ignoring how Tommy only nods at that. “Let the jury note that Mr. Kinard is more than twice my client’s size…” he says with clear humor laced through this voice. The DA objects, the judge allows it. Buck is getting more pissed by the second. He watches the defense attorney turn and look at Jonah. He watches Jonah’s smile widen, and he nods approvingly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The control Jonah had over Tommy was… embarrassingly strong. 

Tommy was so eager to just make him happy— keep him happy— so when he wasn’t, Tommy was upset by it. Jonah targeted that reaction and played with it. He built on it and poked at it… until before long, all he had to do was yell at Tommy for long enough and his heart would give out. 

It took time… and Jonah still needed to administer a little propofol at the end to fully seal the deal. But it was like a fun pastime for him. He would go from sweet and attentive to screaming in Tommy’s face and calling him every name under the sun— until Tommy was crying and gasping for air, overwhelmed and on the verge of passing out. 

Sometimes he would pass out, only to wake up from Jonah shocking his heart back. 

After Jonah… Tommy didn’t think his heart could handle much of anything anymore… much less falling in love. 

There was one time with a guy who approached him during Karaoke Trivia Night. He was bold… brave, but not in a good way. He pushed boundaries the moment Tommy tried to set them, and took with no intention of giving anything in return… It boiled to a head by the third date when the guy started going off about some minor mishap with their meal and began screaming at their waitress. 

Tommy tried to de-escalate the situation but only it caused him to turn his annoyance and anger on Tommy; calling him too soft and a pushover. Tommy felt like there was a vice around his lungs and he couldn’t draw in enough air to give proper oxygen to his brain. He ended up in the ER, and single that night. 

No more… he told himself after such a disaster. 

Sal, at some point, tried to set him up with one of his cousins. Lucy offered to introduce him to a former colleague she thought was his type. He thanked them and declined. Howie teased the idea of getting back on the dating apps… but instead he introduced him to Evan— unintentionally, of course… But he set him up with the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Not that it was always smooth sailing. 

He only just managed to stop a panic attack from happening during their first date. He told himself he’d read Evan wrong— he was good at that it seemed— and he tried to cut him loose before he got too entangled in the idea of the sweet, big hearted, impulsiveness that was Evan Buckley. 

Then he got the text. Meet me for coffee? And just a moment later it was followed by a pls :) He was so adorable,Tommy couldn’t help but humor whatever he had in mind for the meeting— even if it was just closure. 

Of course, it was so he could apologize… and then immediately invite him to Howie’s wedding— which he was already invited to, but he definitely didn’t mind being Evan’s date at all. 

Evan was kind… in a way Tommy had never known before. He was patient and attentive. He was clingy— holy fuck, he was so clingy… but not in a bad way. In a way that made Tommy feel special, and wanted… and loved.  

Tommy felt loved by Evan…

And it made it so easy to love Evan in return. 

Throughout the six months Tommy was so wrapped up in all things Evan… he was completely blindsided when his past came back to haunt him. He should have expected his little bubble to burst eventually…

He opened his door to his mailman handing him the certified letter calling him in as a witness in Jonah’s trial. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey! That— That’s enough!” Buck yells, jumping up to his feet regardless of Bobby’s hold on his arm. 

“Buck sit down,” Bobby hisses, tugging on him. 

“No… he— he is getting off on this. Look at him!” Buck gesture wildly at Jonah, who laughs— he actually fucking laughs. Buck clenches his jaw and starts out into the aisle as the judge bangs her gavel down in protest. 

“Sir, do I need to have you removed from this courtroom?” 

Athena beats him out and stops him before he can start towards Jonah. “Outside… now.” 

“B- But Athen—”

“Now, Buck!” 

She gently grabs his arm, and leads him out into the hall… Buck turns to see Tommy watching, panickedly, as the doors close. He sighs and plops down on a bench waiting for her scolding… it surprisingly doesn’t come. “Athena… he— he is trying to— I don’t know what he’s trying to do. But he’s acting like Tommy is—”

“We all knew this was going to be hard, Buck. For everyone… but mostly for Tommy.” 

“I can’t stand seeing him upset like this,” Buck replies. “Knowing I can’t— I can’t do anything to help him.” 

“Keeping yourself calm is helping him… not winding up in jail… is helping him.” She raises her brows and smirks. “Remember what Chim said… at the end of the day we all get to walk away… Jonah doesn’t.”

Buck wants to agree, though he doubts it will be that simple— the door cracks open before he can pick one. “Buck…” Taylor says and her voice is carrying a concerned tone that has Buck instantly back up on his feet. “Your man’s not looking too good up there…” She steps aside and lets Buck back into the courtroom only for him to see Tommy gripping the arm of his chair with one hand and his chest with the other. He’s Gasping for air, and both Hen and Chim have been allowed up to try to check on him.

Jonah, leaning forward like he’s trying to see better, looks thrilled. 

Suddenly Tommy's eyes pop open, so wide they look like they might fall out of his head and he looks at Jonah. “Please… please please please… Jonah. H- Help…”

Buck looks at Jonah who dons an innocent smile as he holds his hands up as high as the cuffs will allow him and shrugs. “No can do, baby…” he says. Tommy gasps and tries to stand up from the chair. His eyes are still locked on Jonah as he continues to plead for help from him. 

“We need some help in here,” Chimney yells towards the cops standing guard by the door. A couple ran out to get paramedics, but haven’t returned. Those left try calling them on the radio. Hen tries to guide Tommy out of the chair… he doesn’t budge, his eyes don’t move from Jonah’s. 

“Fascinating isn’t it…” Buck hears Jonah say to his lawyer, who looks equally as upset at the sudden turn of events as everyone else does. “After all this time he still knows who has control of him.” 

“J- Jonah…” Tommy whimpers from the stand. His lips are starting to turn blue and Buck hears a mayday call from one of the cops walkies that there  is a disturbance in the lobby. Paramedics are being held up by a group of “crazy people saying the Angel Of Death will have his revenge”. 

“Let him help…” Buck blurts out, thinking it just might be the only way. Hen and Chimney look at him in shock. His attention is only on Tommy, who looks about ready to pass out. “He— he needs Jonah…” he says, and tries to pretend the thought doesn’t hurt. “Let Jonah help him.”

The judge rolls her eyes, but allows Jonah to be led to the stand. His handcuffs are undone so he can reach up and cup Tommy’s cheek. “Oh, baby…” he says and Tommy leans into the touch. “You’ve been so good for me,” he coos. “So predictable. So weak.” Tommy doesn’t even flinch, but his breathing doesn’t steady either. “Just like all the other mistakes.” 

“W- What…” he gasps.

“Except your mistake was staying alive… when you were meant to die.” Tommy’s brow furrows as he tries to pull away from Jonah. “At least I actually get to watch it happen now.” 

Buck feels like all the air sucks out of the room as Tommy’s eyes widen, then flutter closed, and he stops breathing. “Get him away,” Hen screams, and the deputies re-cuff Jonah and pull him to the side of the courtroom. Hen and Chimney get Tommy out of the chair and onto the floor, and Chimney starts CPR. 

“W- where are those paramedics?” Buck screams at the cops. 

“No pulse…” Hen says at the same time, and then Buck is moving to the front of the courtroom. off to the side Jonah is laughing… and Buck just wants to rip his head off. A hand grabs his shoulder before he can march over to him; Bobby is there telling him Jonah’s not worth it… he needs to get to Tommy.

Buck listens, and goes instead to where they have Tommy laid out on the floor. He takes his hand and brings it to his lips. “H- Hey sweetheart,” he says. 

Hen checks for a pulse, looks at Chimney and shakes her head. 

“You- You’re safe now, we— we got you. You're gonna be okay, okay… you have to be” Buck says to him. 

No pulse. 

“You know what I— I had planned for that date, for our anniversary? I was going to tell you my lease is up in a month… I was hoping you would consider living together… be- because I want that, so bad. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sweetheart. I need you to wake up so I can tell you that, okay? 

“Let us through,” the paramedics yell, finally getting to the courtroom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are nothing,” Jonah used to say when he’d get mad at Tommy. “Without me you will forever be alone.”

Tommy had truly believed that. Until Evan.

Until Evan he pictured a life of loneliness and a broken heart. 

With Evan, Tommy imagined the most beautiful life. A home finally full of happiness, and love, and laughter. A man who might someday be his husband. Who looked at him like he hung the moon. Who treated him like he was worthy of good things. 

He saw a future. He saw children. He saw them growing old together, and turning gray. He saw the things he’d only ever dared to dream, finally becoming a possibility… For the first time in his life he was truly happy with no strings attached, and he deserved that… right?

“You are nothing…” Jonah used to tell him.

“You’re my everything,” Evan says instead, and he sounds like he’s crying. Tommy can feel Evan’s hand in his, and his hand is trembling… 

The cool metal of shears slide up his skin as his shirt is cut open. Nodes are placed on his chest and he is checked for a pulse. “No pulse…” he hears. “Clear…” he hears. 

“I love you…” he hears. It’s all he needs to hear…

He opens his eyes, and he takes a breath. 

*

At the hospital, after he is thoroughly checked and Evan is given the green light to go full cling mode… he does just that. Hen gives him hell about laying on top of Tommy. “It’s okay he’s like a weighted blanket,” Tommy laughs, willing to argue with anyone who seriously tried to pry Evan off of him. 

“I was so scared,” Evan says… again, peppering his cheeks and eyes and nose and forehead with kisses, before coming back to his lips. 

Tommy smiles, and holds Evan to his chest. He lets  him rest his head there and listen to his heart, so he knows it’s really beating. 

The hospital wants him to start seeing a cardiologist. Eddie is quick to chime in with a suggestion; Dr. Salazar… Evan laughs against Tommy’s chest saying that Eddie is only saying that because he has a crush on her; but he recommends her as well, from his own experience, as does Howie, and Bobby. “It’s kind of sad that you all have a designated heart doctor if you think about it,” Tommy deadpans. 

Athena slides into the room, and makes her way over to Bobby, letting everyone know Jonah’s lawyer quit. He said he was told grilling Tommy would make him confess to being a part of Jonah’s work… he didn’t know it would cause him to nearly die. She also says Tommy has done his part, and will not have to reappear when the trial picks back up to conclude… although she’s sure Jonah’s little power stunt won’t sit well with the jurors when it comes to lessening his sentence from life without parole. 

“What about me…” Tommy asks. “Will I be charged? Or— Or lose my job?” 

“Why would you,” Evan rebuts, lifting his head to look at Tommy. “You— you didn’t do anything.” 

“I doubt everyone feels that way…” Tommy sighs.

“Then they can keep their very wrong opinions to themselves,” Hen says. “I don’t hold anything against you.”

“Neither do I,” Howie says, with that bright smile. 

“The ones who matter, have your back…” Evan says, pressing a kiss to Tommy's jaw. “We all love you.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One month later

“Do we have to do this right now,” Evan pouts, dragging his feet behind Tommy as he enters the closet. He comes right up behind Tommy and wraps his arms around his body. “There are so many things I would rather be doing to you— I mean with you— on our day off.” Tommy feels Evan’s lips curl into a smile against the back of his neck.

“You… are a menace,” Tommy laughs, turning in the embrace to face Evan. He leans in and kisses him, slow and passionately, until Evan is sighing into it. “Soon as we’re done, I’m all yours.” 

That gets him a deep pout, and he nips at the jutted out lip before turning and moving clothes over to make room for Evan’s, and pulling out things to get rid of. He reaches up to the top shelf, all the way to the back… and pulls out the defibrillator. 

Evan stares at it, running a hand across Tommy’s shoulder. “Here,” Tommy says after a long pause. He hands the machine to Evan who looks at it confused. “Donation pile.”

“Are— are you sure? Wh- What if—”

“I don’t need it anymore,” Tommy says, feeling the tug in his cheeks from the smile that’s spreading across his face. “I know my heart is in good hands.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@sunnywithachanceofbi @weewookinard @xtarmanderx @racerchix21 @sad-girl-hours23

@laundryandtaxesworld @swagmaster9k @iphyslitterator @adian-ua @littlepaws9

@exhaustedpirate @unhingedangstaddict @quintessenceofdust88 @mrhappyjavaman @bibibievansbuckley

@owlgirl495 @babygirltommykinard

[shutupineedtothink]

I’m still s h o o k that people do not see exactly what’s going on with Moiraine throughout s2 and people are dragging her and dismissing her without an ounce of empathy for what she’s been through, so I’m bringing the full character analysis for y’all (and my own sanity). So this is a big ol in defense of Moiraine (and Lan) rant, so if that’s not your thing, scroll down now. Here we go.

I just… The AUDACITY some people have to look at Moiraine and be angry and pissed off at how she acts in S2. To not feel any sympathy and empathy for her and the monumental weight she’s under every goddamn day. There’s a reason we start with that bath scene in 2x01 – it shows you everything. How she’s just going through the motions. How she only lets herself cry when she’s alone in the water. How she literally curls into the fetal position and looks reproachfully devastated over her knees as she hugs them to her chest in a futile attempt at comfort. Not to mention the direct comparison/callback with the bath scene in 1x01, where she has both her power and Lan still, and now she’s lost her connection to both of them.

How is it not painfully obvious that every interaction she has after that bath scene is infused with a trauma response? Let’s tally up the devastation she’s been through. At the end of S1, she was 1. banished from the sisterhood of the white tower (they literally turned their backs on her), 2. was separated AGAIN from the love of her life fully expecting to never see her again, 3. was cut off from the other love of her life (that would be Lan, for the record) which is all the worse bc it’s her own fault for masking the bond, 4. was fully made to believe she’s been stilled from the one power aka an integral part of her being, AND 5. she’s “failed” her mission at the eye of the world – the one goal she’s had for the last 20 years, her life’s purpose – because instead of locking away the dark one she’s directly caused Rand to set Ishamael free.

You don’t think it's justified to be a little pissed off and standoffish after all of that? You don’t think the weight of that guilt, grief, pain, and loss is a reasonable cause to be distant, cold, harsh, having a little bit of a death wish? That’s TRAUMA, baby! She is absolutely wrecked, and it’s coming out in the worst way in her interactions with others (especially Lan because we’ve seen how they should be), but it’s absolutely not because she actively wants to hurt the people around her. In fact after almost every moment she lashes out at someone, we see an equally sad/grief-stricken/devastated moment from her and THAT’S the real emotion hiding underneath the anger. This woman needs therapy and understanding and patience, and does not deserve to be judged at the worst time of her life.

Ok fine, you say, but Lan IS patient and understanding with her! And she’s still an asshole to him! You’re right, Lan is absolutely trying his best and doing just about everything he can to be there for her in 2x01/2x02 (with a little help from Verin and Tomas). But 1. It’s STILL not about him, Moiraine is not obligated to respond in a certain way to her grief and pain that makes him feel better, and 2. This is Moiraine goddamn Damodred and even her trauma response is also a front to protect him, to push him away from her and what is now certainly a suicide mission to fight the dark without her powers.

This is SOOO important to really get Moiraine’s character — y’all gotta understand this: Moiraine truly loves only TWO people on the whole fucking planet: Siuan and Lan. They are also the only people who truly love her, unconditionally, with all of her flaws and imperfections. Please please ingrain that into your brain, especially for Lan, in this context. (Siuan is a whole other conversation I won’t get into at the moment.) Moiraine loves Lan, he loves her, deeply. That’s the foundation of everything they go through with each other in this season, despite what’s happening on the surface.

Once you accept that as fundamental truth, everything makes a whole lot more sense. She is a dick to him to push him away. Literally tells him he failed her to put the final nail in the coffin of driving him away, which is his worst nightmare. On the surface it seems egotistic at best, plain cruel at worst. But look underneath. Moiraine always has reasons 2, 3, 6 layers deep for everything she does.

With everyone else she’s mean to this season, namely her sister and her nephew, it’s born out of distrust (and the aforementioned trauma response). She can’t afford to trust anyone because anyone could be a dark friend. (And if they’re not a dark friend, then they become a liability and endangered.) Anything she lets slip could be used to hurt/control Rand and push them all one step closer to eternal darkness. Oh and when we see Barthanes’ true nature that turns out to be fucking justified, by the way. But I digress.

Right so why is she an asshole to Lan then? Because she doesn’t trust him? I don’t believe that for a second. These two have been on the same page, literally sharing the same headspace, for the last 20 years – she knows he’s the best person she’s ever met, the least likely to ever turn to the dark, ever. It’s an actual impossibility. So it’s not that she doesn’t trust him. She literally marvels at how courageous he must be to fight the dark with only a sword.

The true reason is: she does trust him, she does love him, and she KNOWS him. She knows that he will never leave her like this, in her darkest hour. He is both honor-bound to her (which he takes very seriously) and deeply cares for her. The problem is that now his life is in serious danger by staying with her. But there is no calmly explaining to him that he should return to the white tower for his own good and bond to another aes sedai who can actually channel, who can actually hold up her end of the partnership and protect him and heal him in return for his loyalty and sacrifice. Or better yet, find Nynaeve, who is not only ridiculously powerful and has probably the best chance of protecting him out of anyone, but who also loves him.

If Moiraine loves him and wants him safe, the ONLY option she has to protect him, the one good thing left in her life even if their bond is masked, is to drive him away. To make it so that he’ll stay far away from her of his own free will, and never come after her and her suicide mission to defeat the dark. Because she has already lost everything, she has no control over her fate anymore (if she ever had any to begin with), but the ONE thing she can still try to do is keep him safe. And hopefully, maybe he’ll be happy, one day. Her reasoning is directly confirmed for us in the last thing she says to him in 2x02 before she leaves: “Light protect you, al’Lan Mandragoran.” That was her goal all along, to protect him.

That’s the true reason she’s Like That to him. It’s all out of her love for him, and a desperate desire not to drag him down with her when she’s sure she’s destined to die on this mission. Is her strategy misguided? On the one hand yes, because she does need people to help her and she needs to trust someone, as he points out. On the other hand, she’s absolutely fucking right because look what happened with the Fade fight at the end of 2x01. Both her and Lan would have died without Verin and Tomas, and it would have been because she couldn’t channel. He is factually, logically, physically better off without her as long as she’s “stilled.”

This is why it makes sense how Lan eventually responds the way he does. He initially sees right through what she’s trying to do, he literally says he won’t let her push him away. He knows her too, better than anyone, including Siuan at this point. But he isn’t expecting her to go as far as she does, and it shakes him to his core. She tells him he failed her, has his worst fears confirmed, and then hears the words “we were never equals” and hears that she thinks she’s better than him, when she means the exact opposite. Tomas tells him to really listen but he can’t, in that moment.

But then he gets some distance, and some perspective thanks to Ihvon and Maksim, and he remembers: he loves her. He believes in her and he knows her and he knows what she’s doing to push him away (although maybe not why, when it comes to protecting him, because he doesn’t see himself as someone who needs protecting). Even better, he realizes that her situation is actually not what she thinks, that she’s shielded not stilled, and he can do something about that.

I LOVE Lan in 2x07 because he’s got Moiraine’s number now, and he will not be swayed by any further attempts (rather weak attempts at this point) to lash out at him. He just takes all the shit she throws at him, and calmly asks her what he needs to know and tells her what she needs to hear (“hopefully everything we’ve lost” and “that’s what I thought” and “you need to trust someone, Moiraine”), and is truthful with her even if she is still putting on this act with him in her fear and grief. He isn’t having any of it, he sees straight through it to the fear and pain underneath. And he literally DECIDES they are going to be okay, and then he fucking. Follows. Through.

He is not a doormat to her rage, he is not her servant, he’s not going back to her with his tail between his legs. He SHOWS UP for her in her darkest hour, when NO ONE, not even Siuan, can see what’s going on with her. That’s a true friend, a true hero, and absolute king behavior.

In conclusion, Moiraine’s behavior in s2, while not cute, is totally justified given the trauma, circumstances and everything she’s dealing with (jfc the lack of sleep alone) and makes sense in light of her ultimate goal to protect the world, which includes protecting Lan. And Lan’s response, once he figures out what to do, is the absolute correct way to handle the situation and is not weakness at all but strength in the highest order.

I’m so glad we got the payoff of all that with their conversation in 2x08 and reconnecting the bond. It was so beautiful, so earned, and reminded us of the level they’re on with each other — which is a soul connection way beyond what any of us can imagine.

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Can I request an Aaron Hotchner x autistic!daughter young adult ideally but any age. Or even she’s on the team and he’s a father figure to her because her own is so ableist. My dad is so ableist and I have so much autistic trauma from him even though my autism is from him too. He thinks that gives him even more rights to say whatever he wants to me and bully me even more. I just need to know what it feels like to have a good dad who cares about my autism. Who cares about me ❤️❤️

Aaron Hotchner x Autistic! Young adult reader

Of course I can, I'm sorry you have to deal with that, my parents have trouble understanding my Autism as well but they are getting better. I will write this for you!

Summary: Y/Ns ableist Dad comes to the BAU and starts being an Ableist arsehole to his daughter, her father figure (Hotch) steps in and saves her.

Third Person pov...

It had been 3 years since Y/N L/N joined the BAU, she was 21 when she joined and instantly became the baby of the team and Hotch became her Dad, Y/N is autistic and has sensory issues.

Ever since she was little her father was ablest and would bully her and verbally abuse her saying how her being Autistic meant something was wrong with her and that she needed fixing, the man caused her to have so many meltdowns and sensory overloads that it made others concerned her teachers as school.

He was later arrested for child abuse and was sent to prison, Y/N was then left with her neighbours who were a nice loving family and always liked her but hated her dad and were glad she got away from him after suffering for years, her Mum was out of the picture.

The young girl had so much trauma from her childhood when she joined the BAU that Hotch became her father figure, their relationship helped mend Y/Ns trauma from her bio dad and she was able to live comfortably knowing he wasnt in her life anymore, she was treated with respect and was always told that her autism wasn't a bad thing.

From being with Penelope and Spencer (who are also Autistic) her relationship with her Autism was mended and she was able to be herself, while with her dad she could stim or doing anything 'autistic' but with her new found family she was free to stim and had all her accomedations, if anyone disrespected her or called her weird they would have to deal with an angry Hotch and the rest of the team.

It was a normal day for the team, they weren’t on a case and for once they all got to relax and fill out paperwork, well aside from Hotch and Spencer no one was doing any paperwork, Derek and Emily were sat giggling loudly like children as they kept throwing rolled up pieces of paper at their second youngest member.

The laughter increased as they kept hitting their mark, Spencers head, the genius was none the wiser as a pile of paper was forming around him at their many failed attempts. From the side JJ and Penelope sit and watch as Spencer doesn't realise, opposite the genius sat Y/N she was busy spinning in her chair with her headphones on and watching the scene play out.

She had the perfect poker face for when a paper ball hit Spencer's head, as the children in the bull pen play the two adults Hotch and Rossi where actually getting work done, , well Hotch was at least the Italian was drinking and watching the kids outside keeping an eye on them as someone responsible needed too.

As Y/N continued to spin around her in chair she didn’t hear the heavy footsteps off someone walking up behind her, the H/C woman was suddenly yanked off her chair and onto the hard floor by a man, in the process of being manhandled her headphones when flying off her head.

“What did I tall ya about doing that Girl!” exclaimed a voice that haunted her nightmares, gasping in terror Y/N stared frozen at her Father who was suppose to be in prison, the large man had a sickening grin on his face as he saw the terror in his daughter eyes.

“Yes its me!” he laughed that horrible laugh that had Y/N holding her hands overs her ears, the 21 year old was still frozen on the floor while the others were staring at the scene before them guns raised, by this time Hotch and Rossi had heard what happened and were out of their offices.

“bu-but your supposed to be in jail!” exclaimed Y/N finally finding her voice stuttering, the man looked down at her crumpled form, he then grabbed the front of her blouse pulling his daughter close. “they let me out for good behaviour, did ya miss me!” he semi whispered as Y/Ns face grew a sickening pale white, she scrambled to get away but the man wouldn’t let go instead he raised his hand and slapped her.

Y/N cried out in pain. “you really didn’t think I could be held for long did ya you retard! You really are still a fucked in the head as you were years ago” yelled the man, Hotch had had enough, he rain down thw ramp arms raised, gun in his hands. “Get your hands on hr now, you do realise you just assaulted a federal agent” growled out Hotch as the man teared his eyes away from the shivering form of his daughter.

He spat at Hotch. “your not her father I am, this waste of space in am Agent HA!”!” he laughed again and kicked Y/N hard in the ribs, Penelope gasps tears in her eyes as she witnesses her friend get beaten. Y/N holds in her cries of pain and raises her head from the floor glaring at the man.

“your not my dad you never have been!” she cried tears rolling down her face, the sadistic man smirked at the tears rolling down his daughters face, the sight reminding off when she was a kid and he would verbally abuse her, he had never hit her before now, it felt good.

Her words made him angry. “I am your father retard, though I hate to admit it you share my blood, your as stupid as I remember crying on the floor like the child you are to stupid to do what I say” he goes on on berating Y/N and saying how stupid she was once again verbally abusing her, as he went on his rant Y/N managed to stand up.

She was then pulled behind Hotch, his finger close to pulling the trigger. “you Bastard, you shut the fuck up now, you have crossed the line now get out of my building and away from my Daughter before I pump your body full of bullets!” yelled Hotch threw clenched teeth, he was so close to pulling the trigger instead he stormed up so he was chest to chest with the man and pulled back his fist.

When he lets go his right hand connected with the nose he was satisfied to feel it shatter, a smirk on his face before gesturing to a couple of agents. “now don’t ever come back or I will kill you” Hotches hand was burning but he felt satisfied when Y/Ns Dad freeze before he tsked and stormed out not before calling Y/N the R slur before he was detained by two agents ans forced into handcuffs.

Hotch crossed his arms before turning around to hug Y/N was had collapsed, the stress from her dad coming in draining her, she was then sat at her desk with Hotch hovering around her looking at her injuries, E/C eyes locked on his brown ones.

“Im your daughter” she whispers hoarsely, this made Hotch smile and run his hand through her hair. “of course, you are sweetie” he smiled softly kissing her forehead still smiling when she smiles back.

The end!!

Hoped you liked this oneshot so sorry for the wait! As usual sorry for the grammar and spelling mistake!

Requests are open!

Word count: 1366

[buckevantommy]

1. raceway (cars) 2. time travel au

"Jesus—" Tommy braces one hand against the dash, the other grabbing the oh-shit handle. "You wanna slow it down, kid? This isn't a racetrack."

The kid - Evan - doesn't slow down. He's been gunning it since he pulled up outside the 217 and fed Tommy some line about Howie being in trouble. Chimney, he called him, and there was no time to explain why or what exactly was going on as Evan was laser-focused on weaving them through several blocks of traffic until they made it to the freeway. He still doesn't slow down, but at least there's less chance of them ending up as crash victims with fewer cars around.

"What the hell is going on? What happened to Howie?"

"Oh. H-he's fine." Evan glances over at him, baby blues wide and worried. "I-I'm sorry I lied, but— it was the only way to get you in the car."

Tommy tenses. He's not really one for action-thrillers or horror-mysteries, they were always more Howie's wheelhouse. But he can recognise a dangerous B-plot when he's in one. "Who are you?"

"Evan Buckley. I-I work at the 118 with Chim— Howard Han. And, um." He takes a steadying breath. "I know you, Tommy. I've known you for years."

"I don't know you." Great. Has he got himself a goddamned stalker? Doesn't matter how objectively cute the guy is, this whole situation is concerning. Discreetly, he thumbs for his phone in his pocket.

"Yeah, that's 'cos. Um." Flexing his hands on the wheel, Evan casts a wary look at Tommy, like Tommy is the one to be worried about right now. "Look, I-I know this is gonna sound crazy— I thought it was crazy too, at first, like another fucked up coma dream."

Another? Maybe Evan's behaviour has been brought on by brain trauma.

"But it's not. I don't know how, but this morning I woke up almost ten years in the past— in the body of my younger self, years before we meet, s-so. You don't know me."

Maybe they should pay Howie a visit. He's a medic and someone they obviously have in common so Evan will hopefully trust him to assess his mental state. Or at least he could offer his breadth of movie knowledge for the whole time travel angle.

"Let's stick with 'unlikely', and go from there." Tommy knows enough to keep things calm. "You wanna tell me why you're driving like a madman through L.A. traffic?" And why you kidnapped me. Tommy's grip tightens on the handle above him.

Evan gives an indignant huff. "I'm just— I'm trying to save your life."

Tommy lets that sink in. This guy, who claims to be a firefighter at his old house where he works with one of the best in the field, defends his actions by claiming to be doing his job, essentially. Even if his reasoning is muddled, his intentions may be pure. But all things considered, why zero in on Tommy? "Why would you do that?"

"Because."

Tommy watches the bob of Evan's throat as he swallows.

"I love you."

doing this thing

[safecore-puppy]

Hi (⁠◔⁠‿⁠◔⁠) I wanted to introduce myself to everyone!! So here's a little bit about me:

my grown up age is 28; my regressed age is about 7

I'm also a pet regressor .... I'm a lil puppy dog 🐶

I'm also a dragon! 🐲 sometimes I'm a lil baby dragon teehee

I'm trans and my pronouns are he/him!

I'm autistic 👽 and in real life I'm mostly nonverbal w/ flat affect

I'm a cane + wheelchair user! I have a cute yellow wheelchair + a cane w/ stickers UwU

I'm an involuntary regressor due to trauma + PTSD. My blog will be sfw only because it's above all a safe space.

My partner is also my caregiver; I call them "daddy" when I'm regressed. They help me curate this blog!

Those are the main fun facts! Below the read-more are my preferred pet names and some of my main plushie friends!

✿ m y ✿ p l u s h ✿ f r i e n d s ✿

Gumball - my blue build a bear bunny, and my main companion. I take him out with me sometimes, especially when I'm in my wheelchair (he has a carrier :3)

Spot - my first plushie who I've had since I was 8 months old. He's made of white terry cloth and has multiple patches and stitches + he's lost a lot of "beans".... He's very special to me and I still have him near me to this day!

Crona - my pink jellycat dragon. they're super soft and perfectly shaped for hugging; they snuggle with me in bed most nights!!

Arnold - my green build a bear frog. He's also strawberry scented! He's so huggable and is a very comforting presence; he likes to help by holding my switch or my phone for me at night.

Hornsby - a triceratops with long Velcro arms who lives on the arm of my wheelchair. He has accompanied me everywhere since I left the hospital, and is a comforting presence when I can't bring Gumball with me.

✿ r a n d o m ✿ p i c r e w s ✿

some of me and some of daddy UwU

[headmates-for-you]

Hey!! It’s 🕊️♦️ :) I’m so excited that I won fhehdhdhd

May I request the theme to be based around fashion from the 2000’s? Stuff like Gyaru, Emo, etc!! All we request is that they’re male-aligned ><

Thank you!! :D /gen

not a problem at all, hope you love them all -🪓 and 🔪

I think my favorite is Rylee/Milo if im allowed to choose favorites-🪓

CW: bright colors

Name(s): Ness, Baby, Kitty

Age(s): 19-22

Pronouns: he/him, frill/frills, creme/cremes, soft/softs, paw/paws, kit/kits, doll/dolls

Gender(s): cutehimekitty, himegyarudollic

Orientation(s): bi

TransID(s): transcatboy, transhimekaji, transfashion, permacute, transdoll, transcrossdresser

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, himekaji

Paras: none

Emoji signoff: 🕊️🎀

Positive trigger(s): lots of lace and frills, cutesy BJDs

Role(s): joy holder, sexual alter

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Redd, Kato

Age(s): 16-20

Pronouns: he/him, she/her, red/reds, check/checker, pin/pins

Gender(s): agender, emoloser

Orientation(s): achillean

TransID(s): permaemo, transgender, transfashion, transaesthetic

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, emo

Paras: auto sadism

Emoji signoff: 🕊🥀

Positive trigger(s): none

Role(s): persecutor, trauma holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Jordan, Drew

Age(s): 24-28

Pronouns: he/him, hx/hxm, h-/h-m, pink/pinks, star/stars, 2000/2000s, 2k/2ks

Gender(s): cismale

Orientation(s): straight

TransID(s): transfemboy, transera, perma90s, perma2000sfashion

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, y2k

Paras: none

Emoji signoff: 🕊💗

Positive trigger(s): pink stimboard, y2k fashioin

Role(s): subsystem host, soother

Other: acts/talks gay and has to convince people he’s not

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Ty, Jay

Age(s): 23-27

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): cismale

Orientation(s): straight, polyamorous

TransID(s): transplayer, transcheater, transmusician, transaddict, permacool

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, hiphop

Paras: cheating, getting caught

Emoji signoff: 🕊🎤

Positive trigger(s): his personal playlist (hiphop and RnB), learning news he needs to share

Role(s): announcer, addiction holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Sen, Rory/Rawry

Age(s): 17-18 permateen, can slide up to 24

Pronouns: they/them, hx/hxm, rawr/rawrs, X3/X3’s, pounce/pounces, nuzz/nuzzle/nuzzself, uwu/uwus, kit/kits, meow/meows, paw/paws

Gender(s): scenecringic

Orientation(s): aromantic, questioning/unsure sexuality

TransID(s): permascene, permacringe, transaustism, transDPD

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, scene

Paras: magnaphilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊🦖

Positive trigger(s): the song Owo You’re so Warm, cringe scenecore things

Role(s): disability holder, symptom holder, fragment absorber

Other: special interests are dinosaurs and scene fashion

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Cosmic, Synth

Age(s): 20-26 ageslider

Pronouns: he/him, ae/aer, xe/xem, plur/plurs, ⭐️/⭐️’s

Gender(s): ravegender, webcoric

Orientation(s): vincian

TransID(s): transraver, transhearingloss, transdisabled, permahyped

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, rave

Paras: magnaphilia, musophilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊⭐️

Positive trigger(s): loud music, large social gatherings

Role(s): memory holder, mood booster, socializer

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Branwen, Corbin, Wren

Age(s): 22-30

Pronouns: he/him, fine with anything really

Gender(s): nonbinary masc AMAB

Orientation(s): doesn’t care, busy

TransID(s): permagoth, transautism

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, trad goth

Paras: teratophilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊🖋

Positive trigger(s): only when needed

Role(s): fragment manager, gatekeeper, layer manager

Other: talks very proper, special interests is corvids, closest friend is Raven/Crow/Corvid

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Hinata, Aoi

Age(s): chrono 30s, physically around 17-18

Pronouns: he/him + any

Gender(s): agejogyarudollic

Orientation(s): open

TransID(s): transfemboy, permacute, permayouthful

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, agejo

Paras: none

Emoji signoff: 🕊🖤

Positive trigger(s): agejo fashion, pink cheetah print

Role(s): happiness holder, guilt holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Vamp, Ryson

Other names: Nep, Cal, Hyde, Lawless (swaps between these and real name interchangeably)

Age(s): permateen

Pronouns: he/him, it/its, ne/neon

Gender(s): trans male

Orientation(s): pan

TransID(s): transgender, permaautism, permaADHD, transOCD, transOLD, transharmed, fictionkin (Nepeta, Lil Cal, Hyde/Lawless)

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, cringecore

Paras: fictophilia, mild shotacon

Emoji signoff: 🕊🌈

Positive trigger(s): Homestuck, Servamp, scene stimboards

Role(s): ableism protector, ADHD holder, autism holder

Other: iffy about kin doubles, uses kin names, special interests are Homestuck and Servamp, kins transmasc Nepeta specifically

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Mark, Anthony

Age(s): 20s, ambiguous

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): cismale

Orientation(s): aroace bi

TransID(s): transhater, perma90s, transera

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, dark y2k

Paras: somnophilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊🔪

Positive trigger(s): if he has a partner they would be it

Role(s): silencer, rage holder, paranoia holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Richie, Kelvis

Age(s): 27

Pronouns: he/him, pin/pins, punk/punks, rock/rocks, anti/antis

Gender(s): manpunk

Orientation(s): straight

TransID(s): transantirq, transpunk, transpunkrock, transhater

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, punk

Paras: antiphilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊🧷

Positive trigger(s): punk music, spikes, leather jackets

Role(s): corruptor

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Panda, Chichi

Age(s): ageless

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): ambiguous male

Orientation(s): bi

TransID(s): transfashion, permafemboy, transdarkskin, transextrememakeupuser, perfumescentic

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, yamanba

Paras: podophilia, opophilia, celebriphilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊🐼

Positive trigger(s): cute animals, yamanba fashion

Role(s): eso-role

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Cerebro, Cy

Age(s): 24-25

Pronouns: it/its, they/them, hy/hymn, tube/tubes, ne/neon, cy/cyber, xe/xem

Gender(s): cismale, cybergothgender

Orientation(s): homoflexible

TransID(s): transcybergoth, transrobotic

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based

Paras: robophilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊🧪

Positive trigger(s): cybergoth related (photos, fashion, art, music, etc)

Role(s): memory holder, trauma holder

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Raven, Crow, Corvid

Age(s): 19-25 ageslider

Pronouns: he/him, it/its, thing/things, shadow/shadows, crow/crows, beak/beaks, squawk/squawks, feather/feathers, death/deaths, 💀/💀’s, ☠️/☠️’s

Gender(s): shadowravengender, deadthinggender

Orientation(s): aroace bi

TransID(s): transdead, transthing, transmonster, transhorror

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, gothmo

Paras: teratophilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊🪶 or 🕊💀

Positive trigger(s): crows

Role(s): addiction holder, anger holder, trauma holder

Other: closest friend is Branwen/Corbin/Wren

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Whiteout, Stripe, Striker

Age(s): permateen

Pronouns: he/him, blank/blanks

Gender(s): trans male, emogender

Orientation(s): bi no preference but m/f only

TransID(s): transgender, transfashion, permaeyebags, transautism, transtourettes

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based

Paras: autagonistophilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊🏳 or 🕊🤍

Positive trigger(s): seeing your own breath in the cold

Role(s): apathy holder, autism holder, tic holder, drama maker

Faceclaim: 

Name(s): Rylee, Milo

Age(s): 16-18

Pronouns: he/him, they/them, gir/girs, pan/cake, yip/yippee, waffle/waffles, 3rr0r/3rr0rs, glitch/glitches, pup/pups, silly/sillies, 🐾/🐾’s, 🥞/🥞’s, 🧇/🧇’s

Gender(s): girgender, gircharic, hyperscene, neonslushie

Orientation(s): gay

TransID(s): transrobot, permaexcited, transcook, fictionkin/IRL (Gir, Heartsteel Ezreal, Percy Jackson), permacringe, rainbowbloodic, wafflescentic, transtourettes, transADHD, transautism, transverbalstutter

Source(s): brainmade, 2000s fashion based, gir scene

Paras: mild robophilia

Emoji signoff: 🕊🧇

Positive trigger(s): gir and gir related things, kins/IRLs, cosplay

Role(s): joy holder, symptom holder, tic holder, mood booster, social alter

Other: doesn’t like kin doubles, has typing quirk, special interests are Invader Zim and Percy Jackson

Typing Quirk: l0w3rc453 w17h m1x 0f numb3r5 4nd l3773r5 (translation: lowercase with mix of numbers and letters)

Faceclaim:

[c-t-r-l14]

A RETROSPECTIVE, A REFLECTION, AND YES, ANOTHER DAMN ALEX RANT.

What I find the most amusing is the fact that Saku likes my rants about Alex.

At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if ya’ll know me as, “That One Girl Who Despises Alex”, because I write about how mad he makes me, and have MULTIPLE RANTS about how much I dislike him and his gaslighting, excuse-making, manipulative, no-backbone having, crybaby bitch ass.

Like—I be jumping Alex, reading his ass for filth, and be downright destroying him and Saku reads it and is like “Lmao, good stuff”, and LIKES THE DAMN RANTS.

It’s really crazy because at first, I was really scared about posting my first ever rant about him, because before people saw just how immature Alex was being in the breakup audio, a lot of people were jumping listener in the comments and talking about how it was their fault that this happened in the first place. Now, listener is definitely NOT a saint, at all. Even though I sympathize with them, what they did was wrong—point BLANK. But the way their relationship ended wasn’t entirely their fault.

I remember reading the comments and there were some people who said, “Ugh, if listener just didn’t say anything at all, this would’ve never happened”, but that shit confuses me so much?? I do agree that they should’ve been more careful about their approach when it comes to confrontation, but if THIS is the way Alex reacts when Listener looses their cool and does something in the heat of the moment, who is to say that it wouldn’t happen at all? He was so damn quick to end a four year relationship over a mistake. He never put in any work to see why listener acted out that day. He never once tried to talk to them, he acknowledged the fact that they don’t usually act like this, made up stupidly flimsy excuses on why the relationship would supposedly would not work, said some out of pocket shit about them not being the right partner for a long distance relationship, AND THEN PROCEEDED TO GASLIGHT THEM into thinking that THEY were the crazy one for reacting to what he just said, tried to manipulate them into thinking that the reason why their relationship ended was all their fault, and tried to act like HE was the mature one by making the decision to end it in the first place—-

And you’re telling me you saw ALL OF THIS UNFOLD, and your first thought was, “Oh yeah, all of this is definitely listener’s fault. They had it coming, lmao. Good luck to Alex in the States.”

OH H E L L NO.

If he had been so quick to end his relationship of F O U R Y E A R S in a heartbeat over something he K N E W to be an out of character mistake, then what on God’s green Earth would make ya’ll think that he’d stick around had listener stayed silent???? Listener will make mistakes, and there will come a time when their emotions will get the best of them (as it does with all of us), and you guys really believe that Alex’s fickle, emotional whiplash having, “this would be good for us, we both wouldn’t be tied down anymore 🥺” headass would still stay then???

Because, HE W O U L D N ‘ T.

He saw the opportunity to leave, and he took it. He already had his mind made from the jump when he told his mother and father, his friends, his acquaintances, his ancestors—and the ENTIRE W O R L D that he was taking that NYC job and his partner was last to know. Listener—-his own goddamn partner—-was the only person he needed to get rid of. They were his “burden” to bear, and he wanted to rid himself of it. And he didn’t want to seem like the bad guy, so he made excuses to make the break up easier on himself, pushed the blame away from him, and cried like the little baby back bitch he is in order to make it seem like this was such a hard decision to come to. He disregarded listener’s feelings, disregarded them as a whole, disrespected them, and left them with (probably) more trauma then what they started with.

I am sick and tired of seeing people blame the listener for everything that happened. They did not deserve the way they were broken up with at all. Alex isn’t a victim. He never was—and he stopped being the “mature one” (if you can even call it that) the moment those dumbass excuses came out of his slimy mouth.

For the people who were saying, “Alex deserves better than listener! I hope he finds a new partner.” Ya’ll need to realize that if this is how he acts when listener makes a mistake, he will do the absolute same thing with his future partners. He will give up the entire relationship and make an exit plan as soon as they do something even a little bit out of character. People who fold that easily and refuse to put effort in their relationship will NEVER KEEP IT. He will end up being single, and I know he’s the type of person who will never consider himself as a factor as to why his relationships all end in faliure because he has such a victim complex.

This man deserves absolutley nothing, ya’ll! NOTHING!

And I hope that one day, he realizes what he did was wrong, and apologizes to them. I will literally not be able to die peacefully if this doesn’t happen.

The craziest thing is that back in the olden days (four months ago), I would’ve been so scared to publish this whole rant, ya’ll. 😭 My dislike for Alex has been a hyper-fixation that held me in a massive chokehold—and I was honestly scared I was going to get hated on for not liking him (as well as my reasons for disliking him in the first place). But in the most strange turn of events, a lot of people share the same disdain I have for him too, and the comments on that break-up audio is now more critical toward Alex than it is toward listener, and these were both really big shocks to me. I’m really happy that a lot of people enjoy my rants, and even more happier (and surprised) to see Saku HIMSELF like my rant posts too.

Like literally ya’ll, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The love ya’ll leave for these rants are the reasons why I feel more and more confident to make them in the first place, and I appreciate it all very much.

So, here’s to next year, and to all the rants I’ll make in the future! And I hope we’ll all have a great year!

(Except for you, Alex. I hope your credit card declines when you try to pay for that $2.90 train fare and nobody opens the emergency door for you).

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober Day 15:

Childhood Trauma

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | “I did good, right?”

Fandom: Trolls

Day 31: Making amends

Alt. Regret, Time Loop

.

.

“I did good, right?”

A simple question, innocent and pleading, large eyes and trembling hands.

"I did good, right?”

Wet and tired, desperate in a way a child should never be.

"I did good, right?”

Warped grin and cocky lilt, a sharp look and cruel taunt.

Such a normal phrase, said so many times over his life, by himself, by others.

But not his brothers.

He had tried so hard, done everything he could to ensure his brothers never had a need to ask such a question.

Was he a good guardian further down the line? No. He knows he messed up, now more than ever. But he had still hoped to never hear that question from their lips.

“I… Did g-good ri-ight?”

His baby brother, so different from his memories, of that little trolling after their first practice together, looking up at him with wide blue pools, how JD had praised him before any question could leave his lips, had thrown him in the air and delighted in his giggles. The tiny baby brother that he swore to protect after everything, the one he left, with some asinine thought it was for his own good, was standing before him on wobbling legs.

Branch had saved them.

But at what cost?

They all rush forward as those legs falter, as trembling arms wrap around them, as teary eyes clash with a small smile and grunt of pain.

“S-sorry, I imagined o-our reunion hugs d-differently.”

“Ju-just lay still, where… whats..” Floyds hands flutter, each pain filled breath making them jump away.

“I… I missed you guys.” He coughs wetly, “I knew I wasn’t good enough to come back for. But I couldn’t stay away when you guys were in trouble.” There's a rasp to his words now, like something is pressing on his lungs and scratching at his throat.

But the words themselves hurt far worse than any torture.

“You are good enough. You are better than all of us combined.” Bruce vehemently objects, tears already streaking down his face.

“We… We’re the ones to blame B, not you, never you.” Clay is ashen where he supports Branch’s head, brushing hair from his baby brother's face gently.

He stares up at them with lidded eyes, that blue no longer bright and innocent, that teal no longer gracing his fur and brightening his cheeks. What had he been through? What had they done?

What had JD done?

Forced them all apart, separated the family, abandoned them all.

This was all John's fault. His Baby Brother could be dying, and it's all his fault.

“I’m so sorry B.” John whispers brokenly, “None of this should have happened. I’d take it all back if I could.”

“I don’t think I blame you guys anymore.” He whispers back, surprising them all, “I was angry… but, I don’t want to go angry.” He offers another sad smile, “I’m just glad I got to see you all again.”

“You’re not going anywhere! We’re gonna get help, you’re gonna be fine!” Floyd’s head whips around, trying to find anyone, but a hand grabs his own.

“~Here comes the sun…~” His voice is hoarse, like it hasn’t sung in some time, “~Here comes the sun, and I say…~”

“~It’s alright…~” John's own isn’t much different, he hadn’t felt the urge to sing in…

“~Little darlin’, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter~” Bruce joins in, a wobble to his voice as tears build further.

“Little darlin’, it feels like years since it's been here~” Clay’s voice is softer than they ever remember hearing it.

“~Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo~” Branch continues, eyes sliding over their faces one by one.

“~Here comes the sun, and I say, It's alright~” Floyd finally joins, stuffy nose making the notes come out froggy, but the sentiment is the same.

The brothers pick up the rest together, harmonizing and blending and taking the turns needed, like they had never split in the first place, never stopped singing for the fun of it.

“~Little darlin', the smile's returning to their faces

Little darlin', it seems like years since it's been here

Here comes the sun

Here comes the sun, and I say

It's alright

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes~” Branch’s voice fades with each word, until it's gone all together.

His eyes have slid closed, his breaths slow and shaky, and only getting worse, the brothers share teary looks over his head, their tones turning somber.

“~Little darlin', I feel that ice is slowly melting

Little darlin', it seems like years since it's been clear

Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo

Here comes the sun, and I say

It's alright

Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo

Here comes the sun

It's alright

It's alright~”

Tear soaked cheeks, wet plops across the leaf vest and slack face. They could almost imagine he’s sleeping. Sobs fill the air, four brothers hunched over a fifth, agony filled cries, remorseful apologies, pleading prayers to whatever muses will listen.

It takes them a moment too long to notice anything changing. A glow around them, familiar and new at the same time. Branch disappears from beneath them, startled gasps and choked sobs as their heads whip around, a voice surrounding them.

"Remember and you just might heal.”

Flashes of light as they disappear one by one.

.

.

.

“Bitty B, what's ya thinkin’ bud?”

“Did I do good, Johnny?”

A hitch in his breathing, a stutter in his heart, he kneels before the 3 year old,

“You did amazing, Branch, I’m so proud of you.”

“We gonna stay together?”

“Yeah. You’re stuck with us.”

“...I like this time better.”

“Me too, me too.”

((Time loop route that I couldn't fit in without making this ten times longer:

Branch isn't mad at his brothers anymore because he's met so many versions of them and found love in each one's heart, healing something small each time. Branch doesn't get used to dying, he treats every time like it will be his last. He's woken up so many times back to the same day, he's lost count. A small grey trolling in a barely made bunker. He's seen the village die, by critter or bergen alike. He's seen the world of trolls beyond the forest and all that could come with it with the slightest change. But mostly, at some point, without fail, despite all the changes, his brothers are there. Finally, he decides to make them his focus, to see what life would be like. So he wakes up, a kid alone in a hole (bunker) and goes to leave. He finds a letter, his brothers in danger, he doesn't hesitate to go. But Branch is hit, mortally wounded. His brothers are safe. He feels no anger in his heart anymore. How could he hate them when he's seen how much they love and grieve and live. Whether he knows it's the last time or not, Branch doesn't want to go with any anger in his heart. That child inside of him that misses his brothers slowly heals as they join his song.))

[unknown-may-be-a-man]

Do you have any headcanons for the AJR brothers? What are some of your favorites?

I do! Here are a few!

Jack:

he has a d!ck piercing

the tops of his hands are really soft but the bottoms are super rough (someone please get him some lotion)

He can't cook.

So based on the lyric “you make my lunch today, I would do it but I couldn't work my microwave!” is based on a real event. Ryan got a new microwave that doubled as a oven and jack (h!gh off his ass) tried to use it, and he fucked everything up

He has a hefty collection of vocal stims that he annoys Ryan with

He lives with Ryan because that man (jack) has a big spending problem.. and other reasons..

He knows ASL (he's not great but he can keep a conversation.. Kinda)

I gave him a LOT Adhd and autism because I really struggle with both

He is a heat box, Ryan likes this

He has been friends with Austin sense he was 8

Oh yeah! He's in a incestuous relationship with his brother because of childhood neglect

Bar hopping is really fun to him

Ryan:

He sings in the shower like a 14year in the early 2000’s old girl and when he's done he likes to admire himself in the mirror

He listens to 80's/90's girl bands when nobody is around

His hands sweat a lot.

He's constantly cold aswell

Geometry nerd, all the way. This guy is a fucking nerd over shapes

Loves ping-pong.

Oddly likes painting

The 😂 emoji genuinely pisses him off, Jack knows this and uses it all the time to piss him off

He puts on various types of videos when jack bugs him when he works (this can range from baby sensory videos to vine to sponge bob)

Adam:

He was seen as the perfect child

Plant mom (he also grows)

He owns 4-5 cats

He's asexual because of past trauma

This man has such a huge tea collection

He enjoys heavy metal

He has HUGE crush on Austin

Doesn't drink often (unlike Jack..)

He is very aware of Jack and Ryans canoodling he just doesn't care. As long as they keep him out of it

I'll keep updating this list throughout the days

[mononijikayu]

“i canʼt hold enough of you in my hands.” — gojo satoru.

His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: l'amore dice ciao (slow take) by armando trovajoli

NOTE: i knew i said i wasn't going to write more, but i ended up writing this because i ended the other one so sadly that i realized i needed something that was genuinely happy. so i did that. i'll be writing more within the next eleven days. but we'll see, depending on my schedule!!! i love you!!! enjoy <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IT WAS QUITE AN EXPERIENCE, BRINGING HOME A BABY IN YOUR HUMBLE ABODE. You had never expected to be so overprotective over anything in your entire life, especially not on a simple car ride. But here you were, cradling your most precious treasure in your arms, heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and overwhelming love. Your newborn son, Satoshi, nestled against your chest, was the very embodiment of fragility and new beginnings.

The car ride from the hospital to your home felt like an eternity. Every bump in the road, every sudden stop or start, sent a jolt of worry through you. You tightened your hold on Satoshi, making sure his tiny head was well-supported, his small body swaddled snugly in a soft blanket. The world outside seemed too chaotic, too unpredictable for someone so small and innocent.

Beside you, your husband, Gojo Satoru sat with his bright blue eyes fixed lovingly on the little bundle in your arms. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced by a focused intensity, every bit the protective father. 

He kept glancing between you, sleeping Satoshi, the road ahead, and Ichiji who seemed more tense than usual. Satoru’s tension could be felt from that far, you suppose. But you can’t fault your husband at all. His hand occasionally reaches over to rest reassuringly on your knee, as though it was to calm him and you simultaneously. 

“Are you okay, darling?” he asked softly, his voice a gentle caress.

You nodded, but the anxiety still lingered. “I’m just… it’s so surreal. He’s so tiny, so perfect. I want to make sure everything is perfect for him.”

Satoru’s cerulean eyes softened, and he reached over to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You’re already doing an amazing job. He’s lucky to have you as his mama, darling.”

Satoshi stirred slightly, making a small cooing sound that melted your heart. You looked down at his tiny face, marveling at his delicate features. He looked exactly like Satoru, that’s what his mother said. And you could definitely see it. His small mouth quirked joyously the way his father does. His white–silver locks were as tender and soft as Satoru's own. His chubby cheeks were warm too. And you were so in love. So entirely absorbed by your love for your son. 

His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure. 

The car pulled into the driveway of your little home, and Satoru quickly got out to open the door for you. He extended his hand to help you out, his touch steadying you as you carefully stepped onto the pavement. You whisper a thankful retort to your husband, who grinned at you and turned to Ichiji, who nearly jumped when Satoru thanked him genuinely. 

Satoru led the way as you walked into your home, his six-eyes trying to check for any changes in the house. When you both got in, it seemed safe enough but then again, Satoru led you to the nursery. Every inch of the nursery was built by your husband. He was excited about trying to make it as bright as possible, as colorful as possible and he had meticulously prepared in the weeks leading up to Satoshi’s birth. 

The quaint little room was better than you could have imagined it. Satoru had not wanted to show you anything until the baby arrived. It was a surprise for both you and your little boy. It was just a perfect little haven of soft pastels and gentle light. You were impressed with how it all blended together, how he had managed to put everything into a theme. But you knew that’s just how much your husband loves your son. Looking at him, you wondered how much more you could love this man, how much more love your heart can take for him.

“Did you do everything from scratch?” You whispered to him, mindful of your little boy. 

He hummed in reply. “But it’s not just me. ‘miki and ‘gumi both helped, y’know? I couldn’t have done it without them!”

You smiled when you heard that. When you told the two that you were expecting, it was a whirlwind.  Tsumiki was jumping up in joy, Megumi seemed stunned that there was to be a baby. You didn't expect Megumi to have a loud reaction, he was always more quiet. But you knew that overtime, he was just as excited as his elder sister. He showed that through his little acts, like asking about the baby, asking if you both needed anything. He was tender like that.

You wouldn’t say that your pregnancy was a dream. It was hard. You were nauseated all the time, you were crying day and night, you couldn’t keep food down. But your two little ones did what they could to help you out. Megumi knew that you couldn’t eat much, but he would make sure there was already hot tea and some slices of fruit you can eat for you to enjoy in the mornings.

Tsumiki made sure that she helped you out with some small tasks Satoru allowed you to do, that she could embrace you when you feel like crying about some little things. They were both wonderful with you throughout the pregnancy, they’ve always been wonderful to you since you met them. 

At this moment, you wanted to see them both. And you were sure they’d like to see you and the little one. But you knew that they won’t arrive until tomorrow. You were thankful that your mother took Megumi and Tsumiki with her until you could come home from the hospital.

You gently laid little Satoshi in his crib, tucking the blanket around him. Satoru stood beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist carefully. He lets out a small sigh as both of you watch as your son settles into his new environment. The room seemed to glow with a serene tranquility, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” Satoru whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You leaned against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “He is. And he’s ours.”

“Hm, he’ll always be.” He agrees, his hand tracing across the small of your back. “The kids will love him, I’m pretty sure.”

“Tsumiki will just gobble him up.” You laughed softly.

“And Megumi’s gonna be a bit flustered, ‘m sure.”

“Hey, he’s just a little shy! He’s trying.”

Satoru kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering as if trying to imprint the moment in his memory. “Hm, he is.”

“Thank you.” 

“What for, darling?”

You smile at him. “For giving me this lovely little life.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Darling, if anything, I should be the one saying that, hm?”

“I love you.” You whispered against him, letting your hand trail against his free hand. “Genuinely.”

“Love you too, very much.” He squeezes your hand back. “All four of you. We’re going to be okay, darling.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of happiness and the sheer weight of the responsibility ahead. “I know. ‘cause we have each other.”

He smiles. ”Nothing better than that.”

As you stood there, watching over your son, you felt a profound sense of completeness. The future held many uncertainties, but this moment was perfect. Surrounded by the love of your husband and the new life you had brought into the world, you knew that together, you could face anything.

Satoru’s hand found yours, squeezing gently. “Welcome home, my little dawn.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “This is just the beginning.”

You nodded, resting your head against Satoru’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. In that small, serene nursery, surrounded by the promise of new beginnings, you felt a deep and abiding peace. 

This was your peace.

This was your home.

And this was your future. 

You were truly content now.

SOMEHOW, ADJUSTING WAS QUITE A WORD TO LEARN. Life as new parents to your little boy, Satoshi, was a whirlwind of joy, exhaustion, and moments that you knew would become cherished memories. And though it was hard most days, stressful even — you both would not trade it for anything else.

Gojo Satoru, ever the dedicated father, decided to take paternity leave, putting his duties aside to focus on his growing family.  He didn’t care about what the higher ups were going to say about it.  He just sent a phone call, turned off his phone and left them to deal with the situation until he could come back. He was not going to let any sense of his duty ruin his first glimpses as a father.

The decision brought a new level of warmth and connection to your home, a sanctuary away from the chaos of the world outside. It was more common now to see Gojo Satoru standing by the kitchen at two in the morning, trying to warm up frozen breast milk or being up and about by seven to make Megumi and Tsumiki’s bento boxes and see them off to school.

Satoru’s presence was a source of comfort and strength postpartum. He refused to let you raise a finger while he was in the house. You were still healing from the birth, he said. The best thing for you is to enjoy your relaxation and rest, while he does his part. It’s the smallest thing, he says to you as he gives you your breakfast that morning, there’s nothing to worry about. 

Most nights, when he lets you go to sleep as much as you can — you end up waking up to walk towards the bathroom to pee and you would see him, sitting in the living room. You would stand there, watching him as he finds himself cradling Satoshi, whispering sweet words of love and promises for the future. His cerulean eyes, usually so full of mischief, softened with a tenderness that melted your heart each time you saw him with your son.

You couldn’t help but enjoy seeing him so domesticated, to be at such a peace with himself, with his life. This was such a far cry from the Gojo Satoru you had known in your youths. And it was so beautiful, how genuinely graceful he had adapted to his new life. He was always there, with a gentle touch and a reassuring smile, ready to do what he had to for your comfort. 

“He’s just so small!” Tsumiki gushed, looking at the baby and then at you and Satoru. Her smile was from ear to ear. “Satoru-san, he looks exactly like you!”

Satoru laughed softly, a sound filled with pride and joy. “Hm, doesn’t he? He was born on my birthday too! My precious little ‘toshi.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of the moment. “Yes, he does. But look closer, Tsumiki. He’s got my nose and my stubborn streak already.”

Tsumiki leaned in, examining Satoshi’s tiny features with a thoughtful expression. “Oh, you’re right! I can see it now. He’s a perfect mix of both of you.” She looked up, her eyes sparkling. “He’s going to be so loved.”

Megumi, standing a bit shyly to the side,  as he looked at you and nodded. “Yeah, he is.” He stepped closer, peering at Satoshi with a mixture of curiosity and affection. “Welcome home….Satoshi.”

Megumi and Tsumiki were adjusting well to having a baby around the house. Satoru teased them both about being Satoshi’s elder siblings often, Tsumiki was gleeful and Megumi was always bashful. It was so lovely to watch. The house became more livelier than ever before.

You always noted that Tsumiki was a natural caregiver, always ready to lend  a hand with diaper changes or soothing Satoshi when he was fussy. You and Satoru often told her that she didn’t have to, but she insists that she wants to  spend time with him. She adored him, her nurturing nature shining through in every interaction.

Megumi, on the other hand, was more reserved. Shy about expressing his love for Satoshi with words, he found other ways to show his affection. He would sit quietly by Satoshi’s crib, reading aloud from his favorite books, or he’d be the first to arrive when Satoshi’s cries echoed through the house, ready to offer a pacifier or a comforting touch.

Satoru reached out, ruffling Megumi’s hair gently. “You’re going to be good to him, hm? Aren’t you, Megumi? I’m counting on you to help keep an eye on him when I’m not around, ‘kay?”

Megumi’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he nodded with determination. “I will.”

You felt a wave of gratitude and love for your makeshift family, the bonds between all of you growing stronger with each passing moment. “Of course we will.” you said softly, looking at each of them in turn. “We’re going to take care of each other, always.”

Tsumiki smiled warmly. “I’m so happy. It’s like our family keeps growing, and it’s just... perfect.”

Satoru pulled both Tsumiki and Megumi into a gentle hug, careful not to jostle Satoshi in your arms. “We’re a team, always remember!” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “No matter what, we stick together.”

“Of course!” Tsumiki cheered in reply.

Satoru looked at Megumi, pulling him closer. “What about you, ‘gumi? We’re all in this together!”

Megumi flustered, trying to shove your husband. “Ugh, stop—”

“Ehhhh! Just say it once, come on now!”

“I don’t wanna!”

“Megumi, come on! Satoru–san has a point!”

“I still don’t want to!”

As you watched this heartfelt moment, your heart swelled with emotion. The little ones have had quite a rough life, you knew that much. But to know that they have a home here, that they were happy here. The love and unity in your heart for your little home were palpable. Despite the challenges ahead, all the things you may never know — you knew that with your husband and the kids, you’ll always be fine.

Satoshi stirred slightly, his tiny hand reaching out as if sensing the warmth and love around him. You gently kissed his forehead, whispering softly, “See, Satoshi? You’re so loved by everyone, you know?”

Satoru glanced at you, his eyes shimmering with unabashed joy. “We’re going to give him the best life, darling. I promise you that.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace and contentment. “I know we will. Together.”

The gentle hum of life outside seemed to pause in reverence for the precious moment unfolding within your home. Satoshi nestled peacefully in your arms, his tiny fingers curling and uncurling as if grasping at the very fabric of love that surrounded him. The soft murmur of your family’s voices filled the air, a symphony of warmth that your little boy seems to be so in love with.

“Hey... can I hold him?” Megumi asked, his voice hesitant but hopeful.

You turned to Megumi, seeing the earnestness in his eyes. This was a big step for him, wanting to connect with his new brother in such a tangible way. You looked at Satoru, who was grinning. You smiled and nodded.

Satoru’s smile was warm and encouraging. “Of course, Megumi. Just be gentle, hm? He’s still too small, after all.”

With careful movements, You carefully handed Satoshi over to Megumi. The young boy’s face lit up with a rare, genuine smile as he cradled the little bundle in his arms. Satoshi, sensing the familiar presence, settled almost immediately, his tiny hand reaching up to grasp Megumi’s finger.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Look at them.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “We’re really doing this.”

You leaned into Satoru, your heart swelling with love for your family. “Yes, we are, aren't we?" you replied softly. “And it’s perfect.”

Megumi looked up, his expression one of pure wonder. “He’s so small.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But he’s... perfect.”

“You’re doing great, Megumi,” you whispered, your heart swelling with pride.

Tsumiki joined you, her eyes shining with happiness. “He loves you, Megumi. You’re such a good big brother to him already."

“....am not his big brother.” he says shyly, scarlet blush across his face. 

“Nah, you are.” Satoru whispers at him, smiling as he pats Megumi’s hair. “You will always be his big brother, okay?”

You giggled. “And he’s happy about it too. He’s happy to be carried by his big brother Megumi.”

Megumi’s cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t look away from Satoshi. “I just….. want him to be happy.” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “He’s happy because he’s surrounded by love.” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “And because he has the best siblings in the world caring for him.”

You smiled at him, so full of love.

“I love you, all of you, my love.”

Cerulean eyes looked at you, tenderly.

“I love you too, darling. So so much.”

epilogue

One afternoon, you found Satoru in the kitchen, attempting to bake cookies with Tsumiki. Flour dusted his hair and apron, and Tsumiki giggled as she helped mix the dough. The sight was a blend of chaotic mess and heartwarming sweetness.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you teased, leaning against the doorway with Satoshi nestled in your arms. The smell of burnt sugar was already wafting through the air, a clear indicator that things might not be going as planned.

Satoru flashed you a mischievous grin, his blue eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “I’m a man of many talents, darling. Baking just happens to be one of them.” He tried to flick flour at you, but it mostly ended up on Tsumiki, who erupted into fits of laughter.

“Yeah, sure.” you said, laughing as you shook your head. “I think you might need to add ‘kitchen disaster’ to your list of talents.”

Just then, Megumi walked in, drawn by the noise and commotion. He took one look at the flour-covered Satoru and the batter-splattered Tsumiki and rolled his eyes. 

“You’re making a mess.” he said dryly, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “We could just buy cookies from the local bakery.”

“Come on, Megumi!” Satoru called out, waving a dough-covered hand. “Join the fun! We’re making memories here!”

“Satoru–san’s right, Megumi!” Tsumiki says, giggling as she plays with the batter. “Come on!”

Megumi looks at you and you laugh, nodding. “Go on. It’s not that bad. If anything, we can clean it up. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, Megumi sighed and pursed his lips. He slowly grabbed an apron  from the hook and joined in, his serious demeanor softening as he started to help. Slowly, the kitchen started to be filled with laughter and playful teasing, a symphony of familial love.

When the cookies finally came out of the oven, they were slightly burnt and oddly shaped. Satoru picked one up, examining it critically before taking a big bite. “Mmm, just like I remember from years ago.” he said with a straight face, making everyone laugh. “Didn’t you use to make us bake after missions?”

“Yes, but it did not look like that.” You smiled at him. “We could make new ones, if you want?”

“Yeah, let’s make one that’s digestible.” Megumi says as he started using the cookie cutters on his batter.

“Hey! They are perfectly digestible.”

“I don’t know, my love.” You tout as you looked at him teasingly, “It doesn’t seem to be good right now.”

“Oh just you wait, I’ll make another batch!” He says, almost determined to prove you wrong. “‘miki! Get more flour and butter! I’ll get the eggs!”

“I’m on it, Satoru–san!”

“Satoru, be careful, don’t run!”

“But I gotta get it done soon!”

“This isn’t masterchef, don’t rush!”

In the end, your husband made a more pleasant looking batter — but it was because you were making sure to watch everything as you cradled your little son in your arms. Megumi didn't need anything else but praise when it came to his cookies. They looked so round and perfectly golden. Tsumiki’s own batch was also pretty, she added pink sprinkles in her batter which made it more bright. 

When all the dishes were taken care of, the cookies were left to cool. Megumi prepared both of you a cup of black coffee, while Tsumiki plated the rest. Satoru whistled as he settled everything away where it belonged. 

"These cookies are... interesting," Megumi remarked, taking a hesitant bite.

Tsumiki giggled, nudging him playfully. "They're not that bad, Megumi. It's the thought that counts, right?"

Satoru leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. "Exactly! Besides, the company is what makes them taste good." He ruffled Megumi's hair, earning a good-natured eye roll from the boy.

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "I have to agree with Satoru on this one. Being together makes everything better."

Satoshi, sitting in his high chair with a cookie of his own, babbled happily, bits of cookie smeared around his mouth. His bright eyes sparkled with joy as he looked around at his family.

"Satoru-san, can we make more cookies tomorrow?" Tsumiki asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

Satoru chuckled, wiping a smudge of flour from his cheek. "We'll see, Tsumiki. Maybe we'll try making something else. How about a cake?"

"Yeah!" Tsumiki cheered happily with infectious excitement.

Megumi looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking up. "Can we make a chocolate cake?"

"Chocolate cake it is," you agreed, laughing at the enthusiasm of your children. "But maybe we should let Satoru handle the mixing next time."

Satoru feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Hey, I think I did a pretty good job! Next time, I'll show you all my true baking skills."

"Sure, sure," you teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "We'll hold you to that, Mr. Talented."

The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and lighthearted banter. As the evening wore on, you found yourself marveling at the simple joy of being together. The challenges and uncertainties of life seemed distant, overshadowed by the love and warmth of your family.

Later that night, as you tucked Tsumiki and Megumi into bed, they both looked up at you with sleepy smiles.

"Goodnight to you, Gen-san!" Tsumiki whispered, her eyes already drooping.

"Goodnight, sweetie," you replied, brushing a kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well."

Megumi gave you a small, shy look with a blush on his cheeks. "Thanks for the cookies..... And for everything."

Your heart swelled with love as you kissed his forehead too. "You're welcome, Megumi. Sweet dreams."

Back in your bedroom, you found Satoru already lying down, Satoshi nestled in his crib nearby. You slipped into bed beside him, feeling his arms wrap around you instantly.

"Thank you for today," you whispered, resting your head on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the darkness. "Thank you, too. For everything. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world."

You smiled, closing your eyes as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Me neither. Together, we'll make every day special."

One night, as you lay in bed with Satoru beside you and Satoshi nestled in his crib, you whispered, “Thank you for being here, Satoru. For all of us.”

He turned to you, his eyes filled with love and a hint of mischief. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, darling. You and the children are my world.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Even if your cookies are terrible?”

He laughed softly, pulling you closer. “Even then. But don’t worry, I’ll keep practicing. One day, I’ll get it right.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you kissed him gently. “I’m sure you will. But until then, we’ll just enjoy the burnt ones together.”

Satoru chuckled, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Sounds like a plan, my darling.”

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of your sleeping children and the gentle cadence of your husband’s heartbeat, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your family would face them together. And with Satoru’s unwavering love and determination, you were certain that your home would always be filled with laughter, warmth, and the sweetest memories.

You wanted more of Gojo Satoru.

You wanted everything of him.

You wanted more of him in this life.

You can't hold enough of him, you think.

You can't hold enough of him in your hands.

[nessinborderland]

Although I don't have a chronic illness, I do have a few (online) friends who do. Not that it makes a difference. But.. As someone with a lot of my own disabilities (and disorders); I've got my obsessive compulsive which means one of my symptoms is (mild) germaphobia, so I'd want to just slowly kill the person who passed me these disgusting germs.

(I am almost better now.. Maybe a couple days left, I think?) Exactly! As a writer, I prefer original characters, because I'm an overly detailed person. I want my characters to have visuals and backstories for them. But as a reader.. I'd read stories with the original characters, reader characters, and even self insert characters. Which is irony is all the ways you could think of. People actually hate original characters a lot, for two reasons: Either because they can not relate to them in one way or another. Which is understandable. I know that I've already said this.. Or because, they're somehow "too Mary Sue", even when they're not. Self insert characters are also considered Mary Sue too, when all self insert and reader characters are the "fill in the blank characters" a lot of the time. While also sometimes complaining they aren't detailed enough to read about those characters yet are too lazy to create their own characters. Sometimes people are too annoying to tolerant too.

But, in general, I've also read good and bad stories with various types of characters; so I'd just read whichever story is the most well written.

Exactly! Not every ship has to be romantic. There are also platonic, or kin; family, friends, lovers. But doesn't always have to be romantic. So it's annoying when people say, "What's the point of having that many characters if they're not romantically shipped?" Because not all ships have to be romantic. I really can't tolerant people like that. But you've also said the same thing I've said... Just because they're not a certain way now, doesn't mean things couldn't change as the plot progresses too. Everything doesn't have to happen right away. Every story would be different, same with plots and characters too. Nothing is the same would it comes to someone creative projects like art, writing, or both.

I do have five characters for H&L, only four of them are "color coded" - but that was actually unintentional. Just a happy accident with that.

Main character is Rocky's interest but they aren't dating yet. But I am still figuring out details for her, and also between them too. So yeah.. OC 2's Red. Close childhood friends with MC? Definitely the eldest of my girls (1990), so she's like the older sister to them. Is originally part of Daruma. Maybe also childhood friends with Hyuga, even his "voice of reason" when he does something stupid or reckless. Not that they couldn't eventually be romantically involved. But is like a sister to him for now. Except she doesn't want to work in Daruma's illegal business (like the gambling house, the drugs and violence). Unless there might be a more legal side of the business that I don't know about. Which is why she works at Club Heaven with the White Rascals and also OC 5. Despite hating unnecessary violence, she could fight when necessary though. Personality; Libra born in October, ENTP, Sanguine-Choleric, 378 tritype. Those are only some ideas I have for her at the moment.

OC 3's Orange. She's Cobra's love interest. Childhood friends with OC 4 (since they're the same age), along with our Cobra, Nobura, Yamato and Naomi. Both girls were somewhat apart of Mugen and Sannoh in their lives so they know all the trauma that happens; with Noboru and Tatsuya, Mugen disbanding, frienemies with the Amamiya brothers a lot of the time, and frienemy alliances with the SWORD districts too. So OC 4 is like a sister to her, not that the other girls aren't, but she is closest to OC 4 (since they're classmates from the same grade). And, although OC 3 and OC 4 are childhood friends with everyone, they're much younger (1997). Actually, she's the baby of the girls. And one of my shorter characters too. So her ship with Cobra might be slightly, a tiny bit, uh, complicated; childhood friends, somewhat sibling type of relationship while having feelings for each other but the other one is a bit stupid to realize it even though it's obvious to certain characters. I will say they might be either stupid or scared to admit their feelings - but do eventually end up together. Oh! She loves to sing and dance, a lot of time she's the reason they go to Club Heaven (when the girls do want a wilder place to hang out). Maybe that's how MC and Rocky do end up meeting? Personality; She's Scorpio born in November, ENFJ, Choleric-Phlegmatic, 278 tritype. Just some ideas for her right now.

OC 4's Blue. Possibly Murayama's love interest. So her story is similar to OC 3's.. Since Oya is an all boy school, I can't have her attend there at all. And I didn't want to make a separate all girl school. So she's the childhood friend and classmate of OC 3, along with childhood friends with everyone else too. And also knows the drama and trauma, within Mugen and Sannoh too. Is one of younger characters, but she's only a few months older than OC 3. Not sure how she meets Murayama yet. But, if they are romantically involved, I imagine them as friends while also lovers too like friends and lovers. I don't know how to explain it at the moment. She's a tomboy if that helps. Personality; She is an Aries born April, IxFx, unknown temperaments, unknown tritype. I'm still in the working out details phase for her. So that's something for now.

OC 5's White/Green. Originally, she was going to be apart of the Rude Boys, but her story didn't align with them. So, she is technically, apart of the White Rascals instead. But, I do still want her somehow aligned with Rude too, just not really sure how yet. Especially because I'd love it if she knew parkour. She loves to cook and bake, so her family owns a bakery. She works there. And also works in Club Heaven, preferably as a bartender rather than a dancer. Which might be how her and Red know each other? Personality; Is a Leo born in August, IxFx, unknown temperaments, unknown tritype. Still working out details for her too.

I know some of their personalities are vague. But, I also wrote a whole message, way longer than I meant to. So that wasn't my intention.

Oh! As for OC 3 (Orange). I was thinking she could possibly be related to Pearl from Mighty Warriors. Maybe. I'm not sure yet. It's a thought.

Apologies for the extremely long message.

I like how you've developed the characters, I can see them fitting well in the H&L world! For oc #5 I can see her having some connection through Rude Boys through her cooking/baking. Like some kind of soup kitchen thing she organizes occasionally for whoever needs and the boys take notice of her helping their community. Idk, something like that.

Also, regarding your account, I couldn't find it, but be free to send me a link to your AO3 through a DM or something 🤗

[psychdeath]

cha wontaek. 3d environment artist @ orbit gaming. penned by ares (21+, s/h, gmt)

hey hi hello. it's me again after shamefully changing muses. like if you wanna plot, y'know the drill.

tw family death

NOBODY TO SOMEBODY

what sort of parents sign up for a kid only to abandon him and sign him over to the state? cha daehyun and lee bitna, a celebrity couple. thought that their relationship could stand the test of time and fandom. what the public didn't know was that they had plans to get pregnant, to start a family.

papers were signed and a baby was on its way. only, once news of their marriage broke, daehyun's rating started to plummet and the cowardice began to show. he promptly ditched and like a contagion, bitna's fear of losing her spot in the limelight became all too consuming. so she signed wontaek over to the state, giving him nothing but his life and a name.

life in the orphanage wasn't too bad, for the most part wontaek's needs were met. he didn't have to ask for much. but the sting of not being wanted even after the trouble of applying for him in the first place did not miss him. and where do all those feelings go?

he was a terror to all of those who knew him, volatile in personality with a short fuse to boot. pain has a way as masking itself as anger and wontaek donned his mask at too young of an age.

he's eight when a man comes to the orphanage to claim him. he introduces himself has his grandfather, the one responsible for his worthless son who had abandoned him.

from orphan to future heir, life really hit wontaek FAST. his grandpa being from a long line of simulation tech investors, wontaek was shuttled from the belt to the the gated districts where he would come to call the sprawling cha estate home.

generational wealth wasn't something he could put words to but the magnitude of change was. he became more confident and less angry, more talkative, made more of a presence in the rooms he walked into. it was almost if wontaek came into himself.

as he grew older he fostered a connection to the arts, painting being his preferred medium. he went to art school and came out the other side as a 3d environment artist (don't you just love nepotism?). he's done a lot of jobs, his resume spanning from designing simulation environments for coach to orbit gaming, working currently on the iron fists games.

he's twenty seven when the news of his grandpa's degenerative illness breaks and although he still has a few years on him, there are talks of the inheritance and who the cha assets should be passed on to. wontaek is his grandfather's likely pick but as of recent daehyun has been rearing his ugly head to claim what should be his. risking revealing to the world a near thirty year old misdemeanour, he has come for the cha inheritance and he won't go down without a fight.

terse conversations before family lawyers become a standard routine these days and daehyun's return to the cha estate has seen wontaek having to confront the ugly trauma of his early childhood.

but right now? he's just trying to make good with what he's got and the very little time he has left with grandpa.

PERSONALITY

leo sun, pisces moon and leo rising.

if you thought he was a cocky bastard, then you’re right. 

has always been here for a good time not a long time but as of late he's been roped into doing a lot of family stuff and Stepping Up To The Plate now that his gramps is sick.

his upbringing and estranged relo with his parents makes him cerebral and prone to moodiness, and rather than causing trouble nowadays he airs out his shit on the canvas.

when he’s in that place he’s selfish (more than usual), callous, and self critical.

otherwise he’s good vibes on a good day. if you can get past the entitlement.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Hair Trigger

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam, YJ98

Summary: A junior at Gotham University, Jason finds it difficult to conceal his worsening mental health from his family and his friend, Jon Lane Kent. Family secrets are revealed and boundaries are pushed as Jason and Laney struggle to navigate through school, their romantic feelings, and their trauma. Could the reintroduction of Laney Kent be more trouble than it's worth, or is it just what Jason needed to confront the demons of his past?

I will also do trigger warnings for chapters and if there is smut I have the chapter(s) tagged so you don't have to worry about nsfw in the fic if you're just here for the story itself.

Chapters: 23/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jonathan Lane Kent, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Natalia Knight, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, Chris Kent, Bart Allen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: JayLaney, Clois, TimKon

Additional Tags: University AU, No Powers AU, Sharing A Bed, Romance, Angst, TW // Kidnapping , TW // Gun Violence

Chapter Twenty-Three: Dead

Bruce went to bed early that night, leaving Cass and Jason to watch tv downstairs. Cass pulled the strings of her hoodie, covering her face. "This is terrible," she laughed.

"Somebody stop me!" Jason quoted as he nudged Cass.

She shook her head. "Dad's sleep," she held a finger up to quiet him.

"Hey," Jason whispered, "Popcorn?" She nodded and took the bowl from him.

"This is terrible," Cass mumbled. Jason's phone rang, and he answered.

"H—."

"Jason?" Laney sobbed.

"Yeah, it's me... What's wrong?" Jason asked. Laney coughed as he sobbed.

"He's dead," Laney sobbed, "I know I shouldn't be sad—."

"Wait, stop. Who's dead?" Jason asked.

"He—. Caleb," Laney cried. Jason pushed his hair back.

"Do your parents know?" Jason asked. "Cass, can you go get Dad's keys? I gotta go." Cass nodded and put the bowl on the coffee table before giving Jason a hug.

"No, they don't know. Jason, I'm sorry, I just didn't know who to tell," Laney apologized. Jason went upstairs and woke Bruce up.

"Dad... Dad, wake up. I'm taking one of your cars. I gotta go see about Lane," Jason whispered as he touched Bruce's shoulder. Bruce rolled onto his side.

"You're leaving?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded and waved as he went back downstairs and put his shoes on in the foyer. Cass came and handed him the keys.

"Hello?" Laney asked.

"Hey, baby, I'm on my way. Okay," Jason whispered, "Listen, it's okay that you're upset. I get why you're upset..."

Jason got in the car and put the phone on speaker. "Want to talk about something else?" Jason asked.

"Please," Laney wept.

"Know how you said you wanted to try couple's yoga?" Jason asked.

"And how you said it sounded like something straight people do?" Laney replied.

"Well, I'll give it a try if it'll make you feel better," Jason replied, "You're like the human version of a New Year's resolution, you know that?"

Laney sniffed. "Jason, I feel like I've asked a lot from you lately—."

"You can never ask me enough. Ask me more. Ask me anything, and I might say no at first, but I don't really think I can say no to you once I give it some thought," Jason reassured, "Yoga and therapy, I'll do it. All I ask is that you let me know what's going on in your head. Please."

Laney sniffed. "Jason, I promise that when I feel better, I'll—."

"Lane, don't worry about it. While I'm in the mood for saying yes, is there anything you want?" Jason asked.

"Can we listen to music?" Laney whispered.

Jason chuckled, "Of course we can listen to music. The CD you made me when we were fourteen got fucked up... But I have all the songs saved on a playlist."

"You've got—."

"I memorized the order to all the songs because it was the only thing I listened to when I was sad. You definitely altered my music taste completely," Jason confessed.

"There was no heterosexual explanation for some of those songs," Laney chuckled.

"To be fair, I ended up liking you even more after that," Jason smiled before starting to sing the words to a Don Henley song. "I never will forget those nights—."

"Eww, okay... That's embarrassing," Laney chuckled.

Jason laughed. "No, but do you realize that was the sweetest thing you'd ever done for me?" Jason asked. Jason continued to speak softly to Laney until he got to the apartment. "Hey, Laney, I'm here—." Jason was interrupted by the sound of Laney snoring. He chuckled and used the key around his neck to let himself in. He went into the bedroom and stripped down to his underwear, placed Laney's CPAP over Laney's nose, and climbed into the bed.

Laney stirred. "Jason, that you?" Laney mumbled.

"No," Jason whispered, "I'm a burglar, and I've come to take a nap in your bed and take all your money." Laney turned around, and Jason pressed a kiss to Laney's cheek. "I told you I was on my way."

"I guess I figured you were trying to get me to go to sleep," Laney replied. Jason shook his head. "I'm sorry. I know you were supposed to spend the night—."

"I can always go home and spend the night. You said you needed me, so here I am. Simple as that," Jason whispered.

Jason fixed Laney's hair, pushing a few loose strands out of the way. "It's good that he's dead... Isn't it?" Laney asked. Jason nodded.

"I'm not gonna get mad at you for being upset. You can be hurt if you want to be. It's okay," Jason whispered. Laney tried to blink away a few tears, but they streamed down his cheeks. Jason sat up in the bed, and Laney rested his head in Jason's lap. Jason played with Laney's hair.

"I couldn't even ask them how he died," Laney's voice broke. Jason rubbed his back and with his other hand. "Jason, I'm so sorry."

"Lane, have you ever talked to anybody about what it was like when you were with him?" Jason asked.

"I know that it was wrong, and I'm glad that it's o—."

"You don't have to use logic. Just tell me how you feel. I'm not gonna get mad at you," Jason whispered.

Laney took a deep breath. "It started out when he let me sleep in his office, and he'd leave little things for me underneath his desk, like notes and stuff... Then he started coming in there and talking to me all night, and then we started sleeping in his room.

We never had sex, but he comforted me. I had nightmares and a lot of emotional stuff going on, but he gave me what I thought I needed. I needed someone to care about me. Logically I know how wrong it is to feel bad for how things ended, but I can't help it."

Jason nodded and continued to rub Laney's back. "I'm still listening," Jason reassured.

"The day that my sophomore year ended, and I was in the car with him on the way to Hershey, I think I knew what he wanted deep down... But the thing is, I wasn't ready. When he brought it up, I freaked. I started crying, and had I not thrown up out of the window, he never would've let me go.

He was in the car arguing with me and screaming at me. He told me that I needed him and that I wasn't as mature as I seemed at first," Laney stopped speaking abruptly. Jason looked down at Laney. "What's wrong?" Jason asked.

Laney sat up and took his mask off. "He was horrible to me... I mean, I've never really thought about how things ended," Laney replied, "Not about what he said to me... I don't really feel bad anymore."

"You sure?" Jason asked. "We can talk some more if you want..."

Laney locked his fingers with Jason's, and Laney kissed his cheek. "Thank you for coming to get me," Laney whispered. Jason returned the favor by kissing his cheek, and before either of them could think, they both shared a passionate kiss.

Jason pulled away. "Lane, I gotta stop," Jason chuckled as they touched foreheads.

Laney smiled. "You're so cute," Laney whispered, "Do you maybe want to do this after my family goes back home?"

Jason gave Laney a quick peck on the lips. "Sunday night?" Jason asked.

"Yeah," Laney mumbled with a hint of lust in his voice. Jason chuckled and lay down. Laney put his CPAP back on and lay facing the door, and Jason wrapped his arms around Laney. "Jason, can I say something stupid?"

"Please do," Jason smiled.

"You have a dump truck ass," Laney laughed, and Jason pressed a kiss to the back of Laney's neck.

"You're so annoying," Jason grinned, holding back a laugh. "Go to bed."

[a-b-riddle]

Taken

Chapter One: Dinner & Introductions

Elizabeth Snow had always been careful, always watching her back, always paranoid that something, someone was out to get her. In come the Avengers: New York's bravest and strongest defense. A particular Super Soldier catches her attention. He is charming and kind and makes her feel safe. Little did you know something much more dark and more sinister than she ever expected is at play.

Warnings: Religious Trauma, Cult, Forced Marriage, Kidnapping, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, Non-Con, Dub-Con. Violence against women. Threats and intimidation. Childhood Trauma.

January 2020

It wasn't all that frequent that the Avengers would humble themselves to dwell amongst the common folk. They all had this somewhat painted facade of perfection. Captain America was national hero, the Winter Soldier was a tortured prisoner of war and Iron Man... if the man himself didn't believe he was a god then over half of the world did.

For whatever the reason, Elizabeth Snow had always felt somewhat uneasy around them. She caught glimpses of who they really were; under the metal, behind the masks and tight spandex, they were still men. They were men who got too frisky with her coworkers, but tipped so well no one ever complained and tonight they sat in her section.

The restaurant could be best described as a high class bar. Although there were technically no poles, there were plenty of beautiful women for anyone who could cover the door fee. Her coworkers joked that it was a brothel that had a food permit. Men, and very seldom women, would come in and have one or a few of the escorts come and join them. Sometimes they bought them dinner, sometimes they even took them on as sugar babies. Elizabeth was at the bottom of the totem pole, merely waitressing. Granted she got paid more than the women who simply sat and talked to these men for hours, but she did a whole hell of a lot more work and had to dress as equally as scandalous.

The restaurant was always dimly lit, giving a relaxing ambiance to her patrons and staff. The room had oak chairs with plush red cushions. A huge golden chandelier hung in the middle of the room. The walls mirrored that of an opera house. Detailed crown molding and an atmosphere that wreaked of privilege and entitlement. She could never relate to this world and yet she were still in it; a mere ant compared to the people who came in to dine on overpriced food and liquor that was older than she was.

It was on tonight's special occasion that the club had been entirely rented out courtesy of Tony Stark. Elizabeth and the other girls guessed that it was something with S•H•I•E•L•D• given that most of the men looked more like secret agents than the usual patrons. Several of the key members seemed to be missing from the group centered in the middle of the room.

At the biggest lounge section sat Thor, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, and several others she didn't recognize.

In her black cami dress that she bought from some fast fashion website, she straightened herself, kept a good postured and walked over to their table with as much courage as she could muster. "Good evening, Gentlemen." She greeted with a smile and customer service persona on high. "My name is Eliza. What can I get you all started with to drink?"

She could feel their eyes burning on her body. She felt Steve's eyes linger a little bit too long on her bare calves before he answered. "I'll just take a beer, sweetheart." She further asked what kind, having several on tap as well as bottled, both domestic and foreign.

Mr. Stark ordered a Macallan neat and didn't try to hide his ogling as either, but his eyes seemed to venture more north.

"I will have the same as Steve." Thor answered, not being shy to stare blatantly at her chest. It wasn't uncommon for patrons to look. The standard was at long as they looked with their eyes and not their hands.

"And do you have ID?" She asked the boy who appeared to be a bit too young to even be there. He sat there wordlessly, just staring at her. One would have thought the kid never saw a woman before in his life the way he was staring.

Jesus Christ. She thought.

"He's with me," Mr. Stark answered, nonchlantly. "Just get him a Jack and Coke." She was too afraid to confront that the kid was obviously a minor. She would have to give her manager a heads up. It wasn't uncommon for socialites and the occasional trust fund baby to pop in with a bullshit fake, but if they threw enough cash, the higher ups ignored it.

Two others had given their requests and now was the one that made her nervous to walk over to the table. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, and the only one out of all of them, who actually scared her. She had seen the news stories. She would be stupid not to be scared of any of the Avengers, but something about Bucky was just terrifying. He seemed unpredictable, deadly.

Bucky looked over the wine & spirits menu before answering "Surprise me" and staring her down. Not at her legs, not at her ass or her chest. His eyes connected directly into her deep green eyes. She swallowed nervously but kept her composure. A sweet smile and a forced ignorance at the obvious stares she was getting.

Be sweet. What she had always been told.

"All right, great." She said penciling down everything, sure to get it right. "Did you want a beer or a hard liquor, perhaps more of a cocktail?" He replied with cocktail. Nothing sweet. Unlike the others, he was the only one who kept consistent eye contact instead of staring down at her body; it made Elizabeth's skin tingle uneasily. "I'll get those right out. Can I put in for any appetizers? We have a chef special tonight, the Grand Plateau which has jumbo lump crab cakes, North Atlantic Lobster, shrimp cocktail and six oysters on the half shell."

"Bring us out two," Tony ordered, his eyes darting back to the menu. "And we'll go from there."

"Fantastic. I'll give you minute to look over the menu and if you have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them when I come back." After turning to head toward the kitchen, she felt their eyes glued to her backside. It wasn't uncommon at work since looking attractive was the primary job requirement. But nevertheless, it made her uneasy. Sometimes a patron would get a little too drunk and a little too frisky, they would either pay a fine that was given to the girl or be blacklisted from the establishment.

What scared Elizabeth was that not only that everyone currently at her table powerful beyond inhuman means, but they had the richest man alive buying their dinner tonight. A $5,000 fine was nothing to Tony Stark. The possibilities of the outcomes or what could happen made her want to switch tables. But her boss was insistent that she was the one to take them. Everything needed to be perfect.

What she failed to mention was that she was requested by name and some extra incentive was passed along to make it seem coincidental.

"You should be getting a good tip tonight." Calliope remarked as Elizabeth starting their tab. "Mr. Stark always tips well." Calliope was a bubbly 20-something blonde from Ohio. Since both of them moved to New York and had no connections here, they relied of each other here and there to get by. Often they would switch tables when the other needed to make a little more money.

"Well let's hope that's true for tonight." Elizabeth finished up their tab set up and headed to the kitchen to place their order first before going to the bar. Given the size of the group, the bartenders were a little short staffed working on the back and helping serve.

"What are you making?" Calliope asked following behind Elizabeth like a puppy. "My tables just put in an order for food so I'm just killing time." Time Elizabeth wish she had right now.

"I found online." She dismissed. "One of them said 'surprise me'. Do they not realize how stressful that is? Like I don't know what you like to drink."

"But what is it?"

"I don't know, I didn't make it. Rim the glass with sugar, muddle some cherries, two ounces of bourbon, one ounce orange juice, add some bitters, half an ounce maple syrup, strain over ice."

Like most 20 somethings, Elizabeth spent most of her free time on social media apps, even though she promised herself she would be more productive. She even went as far as buying a few new books that just seem to be collecting dust. When she came across a recipe she liked, she saved it. Her camera roll was more full of screenshots and saved videos than anything else.

"That sounds pretty damn good. Make me one after this shift?" Calliope asked, resting her chin on Elizabeth's shoulder. Calliope was only a little taller than Elizabeth, but she was far more skinny. Elizabeth had thighs that required anti-chub rub powder before every shift or else she would pay for it later.

"If I last that long, I have been cramping literally all day. I almost called out, but Jonathan begged me to come in since the whole place was gonna be packed." Jonathan was their manager and Elizabeth were the first person he always called to come in and cover a shift.

"Are you still not on birth control?" Calliope narrowed her eyes at her. Elizabeth had been complaining of cramps the last couple of months, but never managed the time to get it sorted. She usually just took a Midol and spent the evening cuddle up next to a heating pad.

"No I looked into getting another IUD, but out of pocket is so expensive." With insurance, that she didn't have, she was looking at about $400 for the ultrasound alone. Not to mention she would have to pay for the visit and the implant out of pocket.

"Just go to your gyno and have them write a prescription for the pill." Calliope said, irritated that they two were having this conversation yet again. She never made the time to take care of herself or to just take a day off. Elizabeth was all work, no play and truly dull. Add-in a recent breakup and her social life was, well, pathetic.

"Your first mistake was thinking I had a gynecologist."

"Then go find one." Calliope said. "I have a great one a couple of blocks down."

"With what insurance?" She countered.

"Fair enough." Calliope decided to just drop it. One thing she learned about Elizabeth since the two started working together is that she was sweet, shy and didn't like confrontation. But if there was something Elizabeth didn't want to do, she wasn't going to do it. No arguing. Just a simple 'no, thank you' or 'I'd rather not'.

"It's not like I'm seeing someone anymore." Elizabeth sighed, placing everyone's drinks on her tray before picking it up. "I can't remember the last decent date I went on."

"That's because you won't give anybody a chance."

"I don't like anyone enough to give them a chance. Don't you have food to go check on?"

Calliope rolled her eyes and headed back into the kitchen.

"Alright, gentlemen," She set the tray down at the edge of the table and distributed the drinks. She set the beverages in front of their intended. "Here you go." She was about to put the final one down, when Bucky reached out for his drink instead of letting her just place it on the table. Instantly, her face felt prickly, almost as if she had pre-workout that was a little bit too intense.

The look on his face, she wouldn't call it smiling exactly, but there was definitely a look. Nothing sinister or mischievous. It was just... nice.  "Is there anything else I can get before I check on the food?" They said they still needed time looking over the menu, she nodded, gave a meek 'okay' in response and scurried off into the kitchen.

"See something you like, Barnes?" Tony asked, noticing the Winter Soldier still kept his eyes glued to her as she disappeared behind the doors leading into the kitchen.

"Pretty little thing, isn't she?" Steve remarked. "Told you this one was perfect." Steve had took the liberty in paying to make sure that Elizabeth was the one catering to their needs tonight. He had come several weeks back with just Sam and he knew he would be perfect for her. Unfortunately, he had a different waitress tending to him that evening, so he was left looking at her from a far.

But once he saw her, he knew she would be perfect for him. "You got that right. I can't believe how much she favors Connie" Bucky agreed and took a sip of his cocktail. Bucky ran his tongue along his top lip. "That's pretty good."

"A girl who knows how to make you a drink after a long day." Steve raised his eyebrows, a playful smile on his face. "It'll be nice, Buck. Just what you need."

Once the appetizers were ready, Elizabeth brought them out. Back straight, stomach pulled in and hips swaying. Who would have thought confidence was so easily faked.

"What did you give him?" Tony asked pointing to Bucky.

"Oh it's something I just whipped up behind the bar. Just bourbon, orange juice, some bitters."

"Yeah, but what is it called? In case he wants to order another." Tony pressed and she felt like he was talking to her like a child.

"Nothing. It's just something I made behind the bar." She tried to explain. "Why? Did you not like it?" She her brow furrowed. The concern was written on her face.

"No," Bucky assured, but enjoying that she was worried about whether or not she did something wrong. "It's great, keep 'em coming, doll."A chill ran up her spine at the pet name.

"I'll take one too. Hell," Stark waved her off. "Just make it a round."

She smiled, happy that it wasn't a flop. "Sure thing." She said before shuffling back to the bar, leaving them to peck at the food. More drinks meant more money spent, more money spent meant a bigger tip.

"If you stare any harder at her, you're gonna burn a hole through the back of her head, Bucky." Steve laughed as he sipped his drink. "I told you she wasn't bad on the eyes."

"Nope." Bucky said watching her intently. She was oblivious to his stare; too focused on making him and his friends drinks. "She's something."

"Followed her for a few weeks. Makes a b-line from work to her apartment. Takes her dog on a walk in the morning at 7 am, lunch and 6 pm. I don't think I've seen her actually go anywhere else. Practically a recluse and perfect for snatching." Steve was always proud when it came to that sort of thing. He almost perfected Pepper's behavior. Tony preferred someone that fought back a little, but didn't like things to get physical. And Steve was more than eager to help.

"I want to take it slow." He said. "Ease her into it."

"That's no fun."

"Some of us have patience, Tony." He Bucky finished off his second drink. "Besides, I would be worried if she was eager to jump into it. I like a bit of a chase." That's how things were back in the day. Bucky was still unaccustomed to this new era of 'dating'. Women, men, everyone took things too quickly. There was no build up. Quick satisfaction and very little substance.

She returned with the drinks and hoping for everyone's approval. "Everything come out okay?" She stood, waiting for them to say whether the appetizer or drinks weren't to their liking.

Tony was the first to take a sip of the concoction. "That is good." Tony said sitting back in his chair. "Do you bartend on the side?" His held tilted to the side. It was nice that their gaze had some what changed. Granted, she wasn't oblivious. She knew how she looked, especially in that attire and it didn't make her any less comfortable.

"Oh, no." She replied bashfully. "I just do it sometimes here. Short on staff tonight and it's honestly not that hard."

"Well what's in it?" Steve asked swirling his glass before taking a sip himself. "May have to order me another one."

" It's just muddled cherry, bourbon, orange juice, bitters and maple syrup over ice." She answered,  somewhat proud of Steve's compliment. "So what are we feeling food wise?" They all rattled off their orders, except Bucky, who just replied with "surprise me" again.

"Beef, chicken or seafood?" Again with the option. Although he preferred to be in control, he wanted her to be self-ensured on making certain decisions.

"Let's go beef." He said and gave her a soft smile. Again, the unsettling feeling trickled down her spine.

She wrote down an order for a Wagyu medium rare, sided with lobster Mac & cheese and creamed spinach with garlic confit. When she went to turn away, her heel weirdly turned on the floor causing her to lose her balance and stumble. Bucky's hands quickly shot out to make sure she didn't fall.

"Oh goodness, I-I'm sorry." She apologized, his hands still on her hips. Bucky loved how she seemed so frazzled. She looked cute when she was embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it, Doll." He said slowly letting his hands slip off of her. Her skin felt like it was on fire where his touched lingered a bit too long.

She thanked him again before going to the kitchen to collect herself.

Calliope saw sweat beginning to collect at Elizabeth's forehead. "You good?" She asked.

"Yeah," she reassured. "It's just a busy night."

"Well if you need any help, just let me know." She said before picking up two dishes in the kitchen window. Elizabeth promised to just try and steer clear from the table until their meals were ready.

She carefully set down Bucky's meal last. "I guessed you for a medium rare kind of guy."

"You guessed correctly." He said. "This looks amazing."

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Just another round of drinks, but perhaps a surprise shot this time?" Tony ordered.

"Yes, sir."

She made quick work behind the bar. 1 ounce of grenadine, 1/2 ounce of whipped cream vodka, 1 ounces of vanilla schnapps, shaken with ice, poured into an empty shot glass and topped with a small thing of whip cream.

She never liked to taste the alcohol in her drinks. She prefered anything sweet and fruity and would trade beer for a cosmopolitan with heavy cranberry juice any day.

She brought the red shots over and placed them around, having to lean a bit to get them to everyone, being sure to be mindful of her feet this time.

"This is a little bit more sweet than the last one so if you don't like it I can just make another one no problem." She offered.

"I like sweet." Bucky smiled and she gave a smile back, just to be courteous.

Everyone seemed pleased with their drinks and service. They ordered another round of the bourbon drink she made earlier and Elizabeth began to clear plates and empty platters when Steve spoke up.

"What are you doing later?" Steve asked boldly. "After dinner we were going to go to Stark Towers and have a little get together." She was surprised at the offer and felt it would affect her tip if she just flat out said no. The murderous look Bucky flashed Steve went unnoticed.

"Oh, I'm scheduled to close." She lied. "I probably won't be getting off until 4 or so."

"Well no reason why we can't wait up." Tony tilted his head, almost as if he were challenging her.

"Oh you don't need to do that." Elizabeth urged. "Plus, I have to work tomorrow so I really need to go home and rest up." Something in her gut was telling her even those the were the same people who saved the world, protected Earth, and were regarded as unequivocally being the 'good guys', she needed to get the fuck out of there. "Anything else I can bring you? Dessert? Another round?"

"We're fine for now." Tony said. She gave a swift nod and a smile before retreating into the kitchen.

Elizabeth pulled Calliope away from the conversation she was having with the cook. "Hey! What's the deal?" She asked. "I'm trying to cop a free meal."

"I'm not feeling well and Jonathan said I could clock out at 12 since I came in to cover a shift and it's already 1:46. Do you think you can handle my table for the rest of the night?"

"We close in literally another hour, can you not just push through it?"

"Whatever they tip, I'll give you half." Her tone instantly shifted.

"Go home and get some rest, Birdie." She urged pushing Elizabeth toward the back room.

"Thank you, thank you," She said going to the computer in the back room and clocking out. She made haste getting her shit together while Calliope took care of New York's heroes.

"Hi, I'm Calliope and I'll be taking care of you for the rest of the evening."

"What happened to the other girl?" Steve asked pointing to the direction their previous waitress just fled.

"Oh, she wasn't feeling too well so I'll be taking care of you for the rest of the night. Is there anything I can get you? Maybe some more drinks or are we thinking a dessert?"

Steve shot Bucky a look. "I think we're good." He answered. Tony pulled a couple of hundreds from his wallet.

"Here is your tip, my dear." He handed her the money. "I'll be sure to give our waitress her tip when we come in next time. What was her name again?" Calliope told them. Bucky repeated her name, liking the way it felt coming from his mouth. Instantly he imagined him moaning it as he buried himself inside her.

To say Elizabeth ran to her apartment is accurate. She didn't know why but she had the feeling she was being followed, but she always did. Elizabeth always felt afraid of every shadow and strange noise in the darkness. Like something would reach out and grab her.

She finally relaxed when she locked the apartment door behind her. Mia, her 80 pound Rottweiler was ready and greeting her at the door. As intimidating as she was, she didn't growl, much less bark. She initially kept her with the intent of being a guard dog, but turns out she was a social butterfly.

She put on Mia's harness and took her outside to potty before the two of them went to bed. Pulling out her phone, she sent Calliope a text to check-in.

*So how did it go?*

*ok. Stark gave me a $300 tip. Said that you would get your tip next time they came in*

*youre fucking joking*

*i swear . They acted really weird whenI told them you left because you weren't feeling well.*

*shit you told them I wasn't feeling good?* *yeah whats the big deal?* *they asked me did I want to go back to Stark Towers after they finished* *holy shit why didn't you go?* *I just got a really weird feeling. I don't exactly feel comfortable with them.*

*why? They were so nice.* *idk it's just like a gut feeling. Did they stay long after I left?* *no they actually didn't order anything else and headed out.*

Mia finished her business and Elizabeth began to panic. Did she make them mad by refusing their offer? What's going to happen next time they come in? She was so caught up in being worried about having pissed off the strongest people in the world, she didn't even notice a set of eyes watching her, from a car parked across the street.

Stark Towers was dimly lit with they returned. The Avengers had quickly turned Stark Towers into their own home and headquarters after the battle in Wakanda. Tony resided in the penthouse. The floor below him was Steve, then Bucky followed by Sam, Bruce, Natasha and Wanda. Peter still lived with his aunt May and Strange resided... well no one really knew where Strange lived.

Everyone retired to the floor below Wanda's which served as the common area. There was a well stocked kitchen and walk-in pantry, a couple of couches and a pool table.

"So, that made for an interesting dinner." Steve said throwing his coat on a bar stool. "What do you think, Buck?"

"I think you were right, Steve." Bucky remarked taking off his own leather coat. "She's exactly what I had in mind."

"Well I suppose asking her out the old fashioned way isn't the route your taking." Tony remarked.

"I'll try to woo her a bit, but I'm not into a chase if that's what your asking."

"A chase worked for me and Pepper." He defended.

"Where is Pepper?" Peter asked.

"Oh, Pepper," he said. "That's right." His expression was of feigned surprise. "I suppose we forgot to invite her along before we left, Cap."

"I suppose we did." Steve sinfully smirked. "Let's go see if she's still busy."

Tony and Steve walked to the elevator, leaving the others in the common area. "So are you going to help Bucky train this one?"

"If he needs it." Steve offered. "I don't think she'll be much of a fighter. She was so scared she took off before we were even done eating. Not one for confrontation."

"I told Bucky he could borrow the mansion upstate when he was ready. It's hard disciplining them while in the city. You get too worried that they'll try and escape."

"Tell me about it." He said walking into Tony's penthouse. It was nothing short of state of the art. Everything was sharp and clean. They walked into a hallway, where at the end led into Tony's office. On the wall, there was a shelf. Steve rolled up his sleeves as Tony pulled a book, causing the bookcase to move to the side, revealing a hidden door.

Steve and Tony entered the room where Pepper's body hung from the ceiling. Her once perky and neat ponytail now sagged, stray baby hairs flying in different direction. Her arms and legs hogtied together, letting her hang in the air. Her head hung limply down, strings of drool pooling around her gag and falling on her chest. The sounds of her deep breathing and the low hum of the vibrator filled the room.

"So," Steve asked wrapping a hand around Pepper's throat. "Did we learn our lesson?"

Chapter Two: Getting To Know You