#I don’t understand how people STILL don’t trust it like don’t you guys know we exist in a post-glee world

[breathinginsulfur]

Hey guys, i know this rant is long enough but i wanna add some more.

Really trying to understand why stolas is genuinely despised, and it’s hard for me to understand. But I think i have something, and it may potentially be a hot take but these days even liking the show is a hot take /hj

I think (SOME) people, not all, just genuinely have a hard time believing that men can be victims of abuse. Especially if the abuser is a woman. Because yes, it is true that most domestic abusers are men, and men are more capable of getting away with abuse, but you cannot act like this is the only way it happens.

Stolas is an abuse victim. His father was emotionally unavailable and barely even remembered anything about Stolas. To Paimon, Stolas is just another one of his spawn. Nothing more.

While we are still lacking on Stella’s background (which we desperately need), what we know is that she never loved Stolas, the same way Stolas never loved her. they were never in love. They had one reason for their (forced) marriage. To birth a new heir. That’s it.

We can assume that they never got along. Judging by their personalities, Stolas is not an assertive person. He’s nervous, but intelligent, and passionate about his powers and interests. He did not at all try to overpower or dominate blitzo as a kid, despite being royalty. We saw him bow down to blitzo, to which Paimon got angry at. Stolas does not look down on people, he looks down on himself.

Based on the photo of Stella Paimon showed to Stolas, she seemed to be a more aggressive child, making it likely that she was also not parented properly. By this we can also assume that she took the more dominant role, taking advantage of Stolas’s anxiousness and taking control in relationship.

In photos she took with Via and Stolas, she looks like she doesn’t want to be there. She doesn’t appear to have any true care for Via. In Loo Loo Land, when Via calls for both of them, Stella refuses to acknowledge her, grumpily telling Stolas to deal with it. Again, i really, really hope they give us more background about her, because it will most likely make it so much easier for people to understand why Stolas is not the bad guy. One of my biggest issues with this show is the lack of background for the women in the show. But i trust that we will get it soon.

I believe Stella only truly cares for the title of being a Goetia. She doesn’t care about her daughter or her now ex-husband, she only wants the richness and glory of being a goetic demon. THIS is why she did not divorce Stolas. When she found out he cheated, did she appear personally, emotionally hurt? She was pissed off yes, but how she reacts is so important.

“I can’t believe you slept with an IMP.”

“You are a god damn EMBARRASSMENT”.

She never once tells Stolas that she feels betrayed, that she thought he loved her, etc. she only cares about the fact that Stolas disrespected the Goetia family name by sleeping with a lower class demon. The themes of hierarchy in this show are so important to the story.

Stolas and Stella hated each other. She constantly talked shit about him, and he just felt empty inside. Blitzo changed that for him. Stolas NEVER forced himself onto Blizo. I have genuinely seen people call Stolas a sex offender. I don’t know how you get it that wrong. He made a joke, saying ��you’re here to rravish me aren’t you?” And then that’s it. He did not force Blitzo to have sex. Blitzo is the one who chose to seduce him. Once Stolas realized Blitz was doing that, he got shy and nervous once again. Then the two did their thing and that’s the start of the main plot.

For some reason, people headcanoning Stolas as autistic is controversial, even if autistic people do it. As an autistic person, i can definitely see autistic traits in Stolas whether intentional or not. The same way I see BPD symptoms in Blitzo as someone who is borderline. There is no harm in headcanoning a character as autistic, y’all just hate Stolas. And probably won’t listen to me.

I get that this show is popular to hate right now. I miss when it wasn’t. Hopefully some day they all just leave us alone😭

(Opinion) stolas hate is based on fandom misinterpretations and not the actual show because when the fuck does he act like a “baby”??

Stolas is probably the most over-hated character in all of helluva boss. And some of the downright incorrect statements i’ve seen about stolitz drive me insane

Despite his childhood abuse, neglect and forced marriage, stolas has always been privileged. He’s set for life with wealth, has butlers and staff who feed him and care for him, and can freely travel through the human realm with no legal issues. Obviously, he’s going to have a skewed perspective on life.

Because of his forced marriage and parental neglect, stolas has never really known what love is meant to be. His father didn’t know his name because he’s a king who has a shit ton of children. Stella never loved him, and he never loved stella. They were only married to have an heir. Stolas has an over-dramatized and romanticized interpretation of love, which i think is where the ‘baby’ misinterpretation roots from. Blitzo didn’t want to fuck him, all he wanted was the grimoire. But stolas didn’t realize this and genuinely believed that his first ever friend was the one who wanted him the most. Can you see how this would fuel his romantic dreams further?

Stolas, to me, was always in love with blitzo. And (hot take incoming) did not look down on him. “But charlie, what about when he said ___?” We can go through all the quotes that supposedly look down on blitzo and i can give my reasoning as to why i dont think he sees him as lesser. Stolas has grown up with imps his whole life (butlers), and it can be argued that these staff had a closer connection to him than his own family. He’s taught to view imps as lesser, as in the hierarchy they literally are, but stolas has no issue with interacting with imps and, of course, letting an imp have intercourse with him. If stolas truly looked down on imps the way people act like he does, he’d interact with blitzo in a COMPLETELY different way. As in, he wouldn’t even treat blitzo like a human. Stolas loves blitzo so much he want to be his partner.

I will say, Hierarchy is a major theme in helluva boss with several callouts to how the ones who are higher up mistreat the lower class. Just look at mastermind. Satan doesn’t let blitzo speak. But andrealphus is allowed to talk as long as he wants. Blitzo would’ve been killed for using the grimoire, but stolas just gets a punishment. Because verbatim “your life has actual value!” It’s such an interesting theme that does not nearly get as much praise as it deserves

Another huge misinterpretation with helluva boss i see is that people think the show is trying to normalize cheating. And i’ll be honest, i can kind of see how this misinterpretation happens. As much as i adore this show, there are some writing flaws.

In my opinion, helluva boss is not trying to encourage cheating on your partners. It’s trying to show you that it’s okay to leave your abusive relationships to better your life. I may talk about this a different time because this post is mainly about stolas but god i love analyzing this show so much i just go on so many tangents.

Of course, stolas’ love for blitzo pisses of Stella. Not because stella actually loves stolas, but because she is proud to be a goetia and wants to uphold her royal, priviliged status and sees stolas as an insult to the goetic line. Her and Andrealphus’s motivation is to uphold goetia standards no matter how corrupt they truly are. They’re rich people. THEY are the ones who see imps as lesser.

THERE IS SO MUCH MORE I CAN GO INTO. How this affects Octavia and why she is justifiably upset at stolas, blitzo’s perspective, themes of the show, etc. if you wanna see my takes on these things LMK!!! I love this show dearly

If you want to counter my interpretation you’re welcome to do so, however please only do it if you’re wanting to do an actual discussion and not just trying to be rude. Some of y’all are so fucking rude to the people who like the show it’s crazy. Just be respectful and i’ll talk to you.

[fleabagdiaz]

honestly as a lifelong throuple scholar I’m so pleased that people are getting on board doctor boat. but I’m a little offended that everyone is like “WAIT YOU GUYS WERE BEING SERIOUS???”. do you think this is a fucking game. I have been fighting in the trenches for years. I would never joke about canon polyamory on network television.

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[timmydraker]

During a patrol in Gotham one night, Red Robin comes across a strange sight.

A young woman stands over a crumpled body with a sling shot primed and ready, aimed a man with a rather large hand gun. It’s clear she’s protecting the woman who looks like she’s been hit over the head and had her bag nabbed, as it’s ripped and contents are spilled everywhere.

The girl sits shaking, she isn’t scared at all, standing strong with a shard of glass aimed at the man’s crotch.

Tim jumps down and disarms the man smoothly before turning to the young girl, who upon closer inspection seems to be around thirteen years old.

“Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head and stares at him for a moment with awe in his eyes before her eyes widen and she turns to the person behind her, “But she is! That guy was cornering her and I tried to help but he hit her and-“

“Alright, I understand. Would you like to help me get her to the ER a few blocks away?”

The girl nods with a determination Tim remembers seeing in Dick and Jason in their Robin days and he smiles.

He doesn’t ask her what her name is because side he knows he’ll follow up and find something to feel guilty about, but the girl seems to have her own plans.

She shows up a couple of days later, standing on a tall building with a cheap Robin outfit on.

Tim is confused before he drops down and she gives a big grin and mock salute, “How can I help?”

Tim smiled a little before shaking his head, “Taking the title of Robin, are you?”

She nods, now more bashful, “Well, I want to help people. I don’t want to fight exactly, but… well, sometimes you bats are too busy with the villains to notice the little guy and- bro to say you’re a bad hero-“

“You’re right, it’s okay. We can only do so much and sometimes preventing more damage being done saves more lives, but there will always be a cost.”

She smiles, bright orange, and impressively curly, hair getting in her eyes and sticking to the poor quality glue of her fake domino.

“I want to help. I… can help, please.”

Tim answers after a solid minute of silence, “What is your name?”

She frowns, “Aren’t I supposed to have a secret identity?”

He smiles in answer, “Yes, but I know what you look like and I can find out, I’m asking out of politeness.”

The girl looks like she could pout and Tim feels strangely old at the sight, even if he’s still got a few months before he can even legally drink.

“Carrie. Caroline to be specific.”

Tim smiles, “Well, Carrie, here’s the deal. I will meet you here or somewhere like here every night and until, and only until, you can land a hit on me will I agree to let you help.”

While Carrie doesn’t look pleased she nods, a clear sense of hope in her eyes even as she looks nervous.

She looses the first fight, and the second and third and fourth, but she gets better and better.

Tim doesn’t tell anyone about Carrie Kelly, nor does he tell her that he does end up doing a back ground check and finds two dead beat parents more focused on weed than their incredibly skilled daughter.

When she proves to be relentless in her desire to save lives he sends her to a teacher to help her stay hidden and safe. He’s not like Bruce, he doesn’t send her overseas to some dangerous people, but close by and to someone he trust to not hurt her nor tell anyone else about the strange young girl whose managed to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Selina Kyle is more than happy to take in the girl when she watches her sling shot fire crackers at muggers.

When Carrie comes back and meets Tim on a rooftop, she not only manages to hit him but knocks him off his feet.

Tim grins at her, pride filling his mind and making him understand Bruce just a little more.

But unlike Bruce, he isn’t throwing her into the fight at all.

Tim Drake is the one who pays for her school pills while her yippie parents refuse to work or spend money on her, and sends her real time footage of medical lectures in various collages across the country.

Carrie doesn’t become Robin, nor did she even wear that suit after the second night and he gave her a basic training outfit that properly covered her eyes and hair, but she does become something else.

She becomes Cardinal, the vigilante that swoops in to save civilians and provide the medical care that saves hundreds of people and allows the ambulances and hospitals to have a chance.

When she makes her debut the other bats worry about a new kid making bad choices, probably inspired by them, but Tim ignores it if only because he’s actually proud of her and trust her in a way he hasn’t trusted teammates in years.

After a year of this, a young girl asks for a meeting with Mister Tim Drake at his company and, purely so he wouldn’t have to do more pointless numbers, he lets her in after she passes the security check.

The girl who comes into his office is barely ten, cute little clips in her dark bob hair and a big book bag almost half her size behind her.

Tim recognised her instantly once he sees the bright yellow shoes she’s wearing.

This little girl, name Mia Mizoguchi, has been stalking him and Carrie for a few months now.

After he enrolled Carrie at Gotham Academy, the young girl nicknamed ‘Maps’ had been asking Carrie a lot of questions. Carrie had been good at avoiding incriminating answers, but had fallen for the younger girls clever trap as she casually spoke out infomation that could help with cases and Carrie delivered it back to Tim.

As soon as he realised that Maps had done exactly what he had done and figured out who Carrie was he was impressed. Because even if Carrie was new to the game, she had a skill for tricking people into looking away from her and had done well to stay low.

Maps had made the connection back to Tim, apparently.

Luckily, unlike Bruce, he wasn’t ignorant to their little stalker and actually knew her family from a few galas and charities. To be fair, Tim also wasn’t clouded by grief, but as he lets the girl explain how she totally doesn’t know who Red Robin is but if she did know who he was she would want him to know that a new drug trade route was actually being covered by a cotton candy company and she has over sixty pages worth of proof.

When he shows up to The Nest (named by Carrie) with Maps behind him, he finds Cardinal waiting with an excited gleam in her eyes.

Due to her being so young, Tim doesn’t allow Maps to go into the field until she’s the same age as both he and Carrie were, but she’s quick to show her worth taking over coms and doing an insanely detailed level of detective work that Tim can’t help but be a little jealous of.

Just like Carrie, who has been trying with Selina about only becoming Catgirl if Catwoman stops being a criminal for a few weeks now, he sends her to someone else for mentor ship.

Maps is a sweet girl, but she loves to talk and has a lot of friends who have most of the same interest, so he sends her to the one bat member he trust most.

Cassandra Cain immediately tells Tim that he has to adopt both of them and can’t quite understand why them both having living parents matters.

It’s Cass who gives Maps her vigilante name, Sparrow.

[xyywrites]

How to write believable enemies-to-lovers dynamics.

Enemies-to-lovers is a beloved trope, but it’s also tricky to execute. The transformation from animosity to love needs to feel organic, not forced. 

1. Establish the Initial Conflict

Give your characters a solid, believable reason to dislike each other. It could be ideological differences, personal betrayal, or clashing goals. The conflict must be significant enough to justify their animosity.

“You stole my promotion. Do you have any idea how hard I worked for it?” “You mean the one you weren’t qualified for? Grow up, Lena.”

2. Show the Nuance in Their Dislike

Enemies don’t always have to hate each other completely. Maybe they grudgingly respect one another’s skills or admire each other’s dedication, even if it drives them crazy.

“For someone so insufferable, you sure know how to shoot straight.” “And for someone so arrogant, you’re surprisingly not dead yet.”

“She’s the most annoying person I’ve ever met.�� “And yet you can’t stop watching her, can you?”

3. Create Forced Proximity

Give them a reason to spend time together despite their dislike. Forced proximity allows them to see past their assumptions and grow closer.

“If we don’t get this presentation done by morning, we’re both fired. So, shut up and start typing.” “Only if you stop chewing on that pen. It’s distracting.”

“You’re bleeding.” “Yeah, and whose fault is that?” “Mine, obviously. Now sit down so I can patch you up.”

4. Allow Their Views to Shift Gradually

The transition from enemies to lovers isn’t instant. Let them experience small moments of vulnerability, trust, or understanding that slowly chip away at their hostility.

“You think I wanted this? That I enjoy being the bad guy?” “I didn’t think you cared.” “Well, maybe I do.”

“You fight so hard for your people.” “You do too. I guess we’re not so different after all.”

5. Use Banter to Build Chemistry

Snarky, sharp dialogue is the lifeblood of enemies-to-lovers. Their verbal sparring should reveal their personalities, highlight their tension, and hint at deeper feelings.

“Careful, you almost sounded like you cared about me for a second.” “Don’t flatter yourself. I care about not dying, and you happen to be useful.”

“If you were half as smart as you think you are—” “I’d still be twice as smart as you.”

6. Show the Cost of Falling for Each Other

Enemies-to-lovers works best when there are stakes. Their relationship should challenge their beliefs, goals, or loyalties, forcing them to make difficult choices.

“If I help you, I’ll lose everything I’ve worked for.” “Then why are you still standing here?”

7. Add a “Breaking Point”

There should be a moment where their growing feelings clash with their existing animosity, leading to explosive tension.

“You lied to me!” “What did you expect? You’re the enemy!” “Not anymore. Or at least, I thought I wasn’t.”

“Why do you care what happens to me?” “Because I can’t stand the thought of losing you, okay? Happy now?”

8. Use Physicality Subtly

Small gestures can reveal their shifting feelings—hesitant touches, lingering glances, or protective instincts.

“Watch out!” He shoved her out of the way, taking the brunt of the explosion. “You idiot. You could’ve been killed.” “Yeah, but you’re okay.”

She caught him staring at her, his usual scowl softened. He looked away quickly, muttering something under his breath.

9. Build Toward a Satisfying Payoff

Enemies-to-lovers works because of the build-up. Don’t rush the resolution. Let their relationship evolve naturally before culminating in a moment that feels earned.

“I don’t want to fight you anymore.” “Neither do I.” “Then come here.”

10. Maintain Their Individuality

Their love shouldn’t erase who they are. They’re still the same people who clashed in the beginning, but now they’ve grown to understand each other.

“I’m still not letting you win.” “Good. I’d be worried if you did.”

“You’re still annoying.” “And you’re still impossible. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

[uzurakis]

hello!

Can we have JJK guys reaction to his friend/buddy being in love with his girlfriend? (can sukuna and other any other characters you like).

THEIR FRIEND ALSO . . . LIKES YOU?!

featuring: ryomen sukuna. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. fushiguro megumi.

n. hey sweetheart, i’m not used to writing sukuna, but i tried to write him as him as much as i can! i hope it suits him. thankies for the req x—x

GOJO SATORU. when gojo found out that his friend also liked you, his reaction was, unsurprisingly, far from what most people would expect. instead of anger or jealousy, he simply shrugged it off, his trademark smile playing on his lips.

“did you hear what i just said?” you asked, looking at him with wide eyes, he wasn’t fazed. “your friend likes me.”

gojo laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “oh, i heard you,” he replied, leaning back against the couch with an amused glint behind those glasses. “but why should i be worried? i know you’ll choose me at the end of the day.”

you blinked, taken aback by his confidence. “you’re not even a little bit concerned?”

“not at all,” gojo said, grinning. “i mean, can you blame them? you’re everything. but they don’t stand a chance against me, darling.”

“besides, it’s not like i don’t trust you. i know you love me.”

his words were playful, but because you know him well, he was serious. it was just the way he expressed it. “you’re right,” you admitted, tracing figures on his hands. “i do love you.”

“see? nothing to worry about. let him have their crush. it doesn’t change anything between us. if anything, it’s flattering. just proves i have excellent taste.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA. being in a relationship with sukuna meant navigating his unpredictable moods and overwhelming presence, but you had never seen him this angry before. the air seemed to crackle with his frustration as he paced back and forth, his eyes blazing with a fury that sent chills down your spine.

“babe,” you began, trying to calm him down. “what’s wrong?”

he stopped pacing and looked at you, his expression dark. “fucking jerk, it’s that so-called ‘friend’ of mine,” words spat out immediately. “i found out he likes you.”

your heart skipped a beat. you had noticed the way his friend had been acting lately, but you hadn’t thought much of it. now, seeing sukuna’s reaction, you realized just how serious this was.

“ryo,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “i chose you from the start, right?”

he growled, his hands clenching into fists. “i don’t care about that. he should have known better. he should have known that you’re mine.”

sukuna lined up his hand on your chin, causing your eyes to meet. “if he comes near you, he’ll face my wrath,” he whispered, his tone still laced with menace. “no one threatens what’s mine.”

“especially my woman.”

ITADORI YUUJI. you told him about his friend’s feelings while you both were sitting inside your cozy room. itadori’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he leaned back in his chair, processing the information.

“wow,” he said softly, scratching the back of his head, those pink locks becoming messier. “i didn’t see that coming.”

bitting your lower lip, you’re worried about how he might take the news. “you’re not mad, aren’t you?”

but your boyfriend shook his head, full of understanding. “no, i’m not mad, baby. feelings are complicated, y’know? it’s not like he can control how he feels.”

you sighed in relief, appreciating his maturity. “okay... i was just worried about how you’d react.”

“baby, i trust you, and i trust our relationship. besides, i’m kind of curious now. like, since when did he start liking you? how did i miss that?”

feeling the tension ease out of the situation, you chuckled at him. his obliviousness always gets in the way. “don’t know the exact moment, but i guess it’s been a while.”

“hmm,” the guy leaned forward, resting his chin on his free hand. “did he ever try to tell you or make a move?”

you shook your head. “no, i guess he didn’t. i think he knew about us and didn’t want to cause any trouble.” after your statement, a thoughtful expression was written on his face. “that must have been tough for him. i mean, having feelings for someone who’s already in a relationship.”

“it probably was,” you agreed. “but i’m glad you’re handling this so well.”

“hey, anyone would be lucky to have you. i just got there first.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. he took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. after fushiguro found out that his friend liked you, it hit him harder than he wanted to admit. the knowledge gnawed at him, and although he tried to brush it off, doubts began to creep in, making him question his own worth and your relationship. “i found out that one of my friends likes you.”

“really? who?” you blinked in surprise, not expecting that. he named the friend, and you frowned, thinking back on any interactions you might have had. “i had no idea…”

fushiguro nodded, but his eyes avoiding yours. “i didn’t either. it just… fuck, it bothers me.”

“i guess it makes me question things. like, am i good enough for you? do you have feelings for him too? those sorta things..”

your hands immediately caressed his by instinct, seeing him like this made your heart ache. “baby, you’re enough for me. i don’t have any feelings for them. i’m with you until the end.”

the man looked down for a long while, his grip on your hand tightening. “but what if i’m not enough? what if there’s something lacking in our relationship that makes you look elsewhere?”

“there’s nothing lacking, megumi. i’m happy with you. and i love you just the way you are.” you shook your head, cupping his face with your free hand.

after that he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. “i don’t want to that jealous boyfriend but i can’t help it. the thought of losing you to someone else…”

“you’re not going to lose me,” you interrupted softly. “i’m here with you, and that’s not going to change. fushiguro then opened his eyes, searching for reassurance in yours, before closing them again. a little, relieved smile tugged on the edges of his lips. “i love you. i’m sorry for doubting us.”

@uzurakis

[pixelscutz]

random jjk headcannons ₊˚✩

nanami - huge fan of doja cat

i’m not even sure why, but for some reason, the lyrics of her songs always turn him on. i mean come on? he can definitely relate to all of her lyrics,, wait actually no that sounds wrong. I hope yk what i mean. 

itadori - loves being babied 

although he wants to be a tough and protective guy in public, trust me, when you two are alone, he loves to lay in between your thighs and hear you sing sweet words to him. now that is the closest thing he has towards heaven. 

megumi - secretly has a sweet tooth

“hell no, i’m not eating that sugary shit, do you think i’m trying to speedrun diabetes?” 

and thennn you’ll find him secretly eating the leftover cake on his bed at 3am.

nobera- used to believe in ghost stories 

tbh, she still believes in some of the ghost stories, i mean when she first found out about jeff the killer and momo she fell down a rabbit hole of worries and fears on what she would do if they randomly appeared one day. although she now knows they don’t exist, she can’t help but always take extra precautions

sukuna - loves being praised like he’s a toddler 

I mean, we already think this guy’s ego is pretty big, but come on? “oh sukuna, you cleaned the kitchen? thank you love, you did such a good job!” he would be rolling his eyes, but secretly he’s jumping and screaming with joy

gojo - loves ariana grande & sabrina carpeter

gojo def understands how to treat a women,, i mean have you seen ari’s and sabrina’s lyrics? they teach him a lot about how to treat a woman, - heck he even studies them.

itadori + nobera - love to troll kids on roblox 

i mean, although they do save people from monsters and supernaturals everyday,, beefing with a couple of kids online doesn’t do any harm..

megumi - huge fnaf kid 

i know i can not be the only one who believes in this, i mean, the entire lore fanctinates him. if you ask him what fnaf is about, he will give you a deep breakdown from start to finish 

megumi + gojo - thinks of gojo as a father figure but will never admit it

once megumi called gojo dad,, yeah and that’s when gojo found out what megumi thinks of him and will always tease him abt it 

sukuna - has a extensive skincare and hair routine

i mean come on? have you ever wondered how his skin is always gleaming, and his hair is so silky? it’s obious this man loves to take care of himself but he will NEVER admit it 

megumi + itadori - they secretly watch romance animes together 

this is the definition of bromance, and they always love gushing over who’s their favorite ship, the annoying characters.. etc etc. so far,, fruit basket is their favorite !

part two soon ? :> 

[foundfamilynonsense]

Sometimes I just want to sit down and say, like… Gay men, lesbian women, and straight people. You could wake up tomorrow and discover you’re actually bi.

Tomorrow you could meet someone of the sex you do not think you are attracted to and go “oh fuck”. There is no rule— nothing—that says that could not happen to you at any moment.

“I’ve lived forty years without—” so?

“I can just tell I’m—” how?

Now, we can get into the conversation of how these labels aren’t actually law, and that you can be a lesbian even if there was that one guy and you can be a straight guy if there were those two guys in college and etc.

And that’s totally true and valid and we should normalize that. But that’s another post.

My point for this post is that, yes, you are one strange meeting away from being bisexual. It will probably never happen. But you can never say with 100% certainty that it won’t happen.

But that doesn’t mean every gay, lesbian, and straight person should start calling themselves bisexual just in case. That would be a completely absurd thing to expect.

Can you imagine if we go around to gay men and were like “but how do you know you’ll never be attracted to a woman?” Imagine if we did it to straight people? The idea you have to call yourself Bi just in case?

This is easy to understand. So why is it so hard for people to understand when it comes to asexual and aromantic people?

Like… I suppose I could wake up tomorrow and catch some feels for someone. I… doubt it. But it could happen.

But I’ve been alive 22 years and it hasn’t happened yet. So why should I expect it? Why should I spend time thinking about it? Why should I label myself based on that slim possibility?

The number of straight people who have said to me “well you never know” or “maybe you just haven’t met the right person” or whatever. Can you all IMAGINE what they would say to me if I threw it back?

“Oh, sally, you don’t like any women yet but you never know. Maybe you just haven’t met the right woman.” Their heads would explode I think.

I am an adult. I have been through college and it’s social life. My brain is (basically) done developing and I finished puberty quite a while ago. How late do you have to be before people concede that you’re not a “late bloomer” you’re just not gonna bloom at all?

Maybe tomorrow I will wake up and be attracted to someone. I still would consider myself on the aroace spectrum. But to be honest I think I know myself enough to trust it’s not going to happen. And I don’t think I should have to plan for it or expect it.

[headkiss]

hello! a summer request for my sweet hotch, maybe him taking care of reader's allergies or a cute picnic date (jack included)

hope you have a lovely day sweetheart 🩷

hiii tysm for your request!! hope you’re having a lovely day too angel 🫶 so sorry it’s not summer anymore but hopefully you still enjoy! | 0.8k words of fluff!!

Aaron is not known to take many days off, but summer seems to get him out of the office more than any other season. Even more so ever since he met you.

More again as soon as he introduced you to Jack, to the most important person in his life. Jack liked you immediately, and he never stops asking when he’ll see you next. Though there’s a void left behind by Haley that will never quite be filled, you all know it, but your presence in both of the Hotchner’s lives has brightened them in ways Aaron doesn’t think you could understand.

It’s why, today, he’s taken the day off on purpose. He’d even gone as far as to tell the team not to call him unless absolutely necessary. He trusts them, and they bug him to take breaks more than anyone, anyways.

There’s a classic red and white gingham blanket spread beneath you on the grass, the sun bright in the sky and saturating the park around you.

Aaron’s barely unpacked the snacks before Jack is jumping up and asking his dad for permission to go play.

“Only where I can see you,” Hotch says, “okay, buddy?”

“I know, dad!” Jack’s already running off before you can even tell him to have fun.

Aaron watches his son go, squinting in the sun, keeping an eye on Jack until he’s made it to a small group of other kids by the slide before turning back to you.

You’re scrunching your nose and rubbing at your eyes when he does, and Aaron frowns a little when you sniffle.

Always far too observant, he tilts his head at you and asks, “You okay, honey?”

You nod, because you really are.

You’ve had allergies for most of your life, you think, so it’s nothing to worry about. It’s just annoying. You’d woken up and could already tell it was a bad day for them, less air passing through your nose, your eyes itchy.

But days like these—the ones with Aaron and Jack and beautiful weather and nobody working—are rare, and you’d never be caught giving up time with your people just because of some allergies.

“I’m fine, just my allergies.” You smile at him and grab a nacho from the spread, dipping it into the layered salsa from the grocery store and popping it into your mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were acting up?” Hotch asks, thumb wiping a bit of salsa from the corner of your mouth gently without a thought. Sweet and subconscious.

“Because you would’ve made me stay in bed and bring me soup like it was the flu,” you say, knee bumping his. “I’m out of meds, but I didn’t wanna miss this. Jack was so excited and I was, too. I love being with you guys.”

And fuck, Aaron’s heart squeezes in his chest at the way you speak so fondly about him and Jack, like they’re your own family. At how you’re willing to be uncomfortable just to keep plans intact.

He trails a knuckle down your bare arm, all the way down until he catches your hand and gives it a squeeze. “We don’t have to stay long.”

“I know,” you scoot closer and drop your head against his shoulder.

It’s only twenty minutes later, and after many sneezes (and ‘bless you’s from Aaron), he’s packing up the picnic and not letting you argue it. Your eyes are reddened and watery, and he can hear how stuffy your nose is by your voice, and he doesn’t want you to feel worse.

And maybe he likes the idea of getting to take care of you over something small like this. How domestic it is.

“Alright, let’s go home, yeah?” Aaron pats your thigh softly. “I know you wanted to tough it out, but i can tell it’s bugging you. There’s a pharmacy down the street, we’ll stop for meds.”

There’s no sense fighting him when your allergies are bugging you, when he’s so stubborn with his plans, with how kind the tone of his voice is.

“Okay. Maybe we can watch a movie when we get back? Jack can pick since we’re making him leave early.”

“You sure?” Aaron raises his eyebrows. “He’s gonna make us watch Big Hero 6 for the hundredth time, you know?”

“I know that you secretly love that movie.”

“That wore off at the tenth watch, honey.”

You laugh, then sneeze, and Aaron shakes his head at you fondly before calling Jack back over and promising to buy him a candy bar at the pharmacy for cutting his game short.

The candy bar is long gone by the time you’re all settled on the Hotchner’s couch to watch Big Hero 6 again, and you and Aaron share a secret smile when Jack announces it as his pick.

[clockwayswrites]

I didn't write Danny meeting more Bats.

wc: 813, Masterpost

“No,” Jason growled.

Tim threw his hands up in the air. “You don’t even know why we’re here!”

“Whatever it is can’t be good.” Jason stalked forward until he was toe to toe with Tim. The red helmet was angled down in a way that made it look like it was glaring. Cass loved how expressive Jason could be with it. “I didn’t invite you into my territory. Go home.”

Arms crossed, Tim jutted his chin up defiantly. “We’re not vampires, we don’t need an invite.”

“Boys, boys! You’re both pretty!” Steph said as she tried push herself between them before a fight started.

Tim sputtered and rocked back slightly from Steph’s efforts to separate them. “Pretty?”

“What? You’re a hundred p pretty and Red Hood’s got them thighs,” Steph defended herself. “Shut up, I’m only human, I’m allowed to look!”

Cass laughed silently as Jason’s shoulders slumped in weary defeat. Steph’s shoulder was really digging into him now as she tried unsuccessfully to get either of the boys to move.

“What the fuck do you three want?”

“Danny,” Cass chirped.

“What?”

“Danny,” Cass repeated.

“Okay, yeah,” Jason scoffed, “so repeating what I said at the start of all this, no.”

Cass would have pouted if she wasn’t wearing her mask; pouting usually worked on Jason. She would have to try using her words instead. “You like Red more than me?”

“Him?” Jason asked, incredulously, as he motioned around Steph to Tim.

“Hey!” Tim snapped and finally took a step back. He could pout.

“What? Fuck,” Jason cussed. “No, I mean. It’s her, I don’t like any sibling more than her. Don’t look at me like that, she’s your favorite too!”

Tim sighed, though he was still pouting a little. “Of course she is. She’s everyone’s favorite. Except maybe the brat, I mean, but does he really count?”

“No,” Cass said serenely. Besides, she would win Damian over yet. He just didn’t understand it was alright to care that way for people and show it yet.

“See all good here. So I’m going to—”

“Red met Danny. If I am your favorite I should too.”

Jason just stared at her. His eyes may have been unreadable, but she could tell the moment she had won by how his body shifted. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” she said confidently.

“So much hate,” Jason grumbled before turning his back to them and leaping over to the next building.

The rest of them followed loyally along as Jason lead them through Crime Alley and to a dinner.”

“Jenny,” he rasped as they entered.

“Hood,” she said back and nodded with her head. “You boy is in the back. You might want to see if you can get him to lay off on the coffee.”

Jason gave a sigh at that, Jenny didn’t react at all to the way the helmet made the noise threatening or the rest of them following after Red Hood to the back booth where a mop of black hair was bowed down over the table covered in books, paper, and a battered laptop that glowed faintly grew under the keys.

“Danny,” Jason said, motioning to the guy in the booth.

He didn’t look much like Tim had described him, dressed in a light, long sleeve shirt over a tank top.

“Hum?”

“Guests,” Jason said and settled into the booth. He ran his hand through Danny’s hair and the other just leaned into the motion with a pleased nice.

“Guests?” Danny asked, finally looking up. “Oh, Bats! Hi.”

Cass waved back.

“Red you’ve met. Spoiler, don’t trust her, and Black Bat,” Jason said. “They wanted to meet you.”

Danny gave them a smile from over the lip of his coffee cup. “Little ‘ol me?”

Jason snorted and reached to take the coffee away. “Don’t act innocent.”

“My coffee…”

“Jenny tattled on you. I’ll get you a milk shake instead. When did you eat?”

‘See?’ Tim mouthed at Steph and Cass.

“I ate! I ate lunch when I got here.”

“Danny, it’s dark out,” Jason said, sounded so worn down.

“I’ve been studying?” Danny said, innocently, and made another grab for his coffee.

Jason just scoffed and handed Tim the coffee as he got back out of the booth. “Drink this before he can and sit down. I’m getting menus.”

“Sweet, I’m going to get waffles!” Steph said as she slid into the booth. Cass nudged Tim to slide in after her.

Danny eyed the coffee cup. “If I promise to drink it before he can see will you give me that back?”

“Oh my god, there are two of you,” Steph grumbled. She grabbed the cup out of Tim’s hand and chugged it. “There, solved.”

“Hood is right, I shouldn’t trust you,” Danny said with a pout.

It was a very good pout. Cass bet it got Danny his way a lot.

---

AN: This could/should have been longer but I wanted to get you all something this week and it is A) hell week and B) I am not doing Great™️(almost fell down last time I got up, which wasn't great as I was above the basement stairs but hey, we're ooooookay). Anyways, enjoy some Cass POV and more Bats meeting Danny!

I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost!

[leona-hawthorne]

lorenzo berkshire: how a relationship would be with my favorite male manipulator <3

(@mattnott this came out of the chat we had the other day LMAO ily zoya)

on the surface, lorenzo berkshire is just that guy. he’s effortlessly charming, polite, intelligent, and the kind of person who could convince anyone he’s the perfect human being. he’s the type who walks into a room and immediately draws everyone in—not by being loud or flashy, but by knowing exactly how to make himself seem approachable, kind, and maybe even a little vulnerable. but all of it is just a mask.

enzo is a master manipulator. he knows exactly how to get what he wants, and he does it by making people think they’re in control. he doesn’t argue or beg; instead, he plants ideas like seeds in your mind. “if that’s what you think is best,” he’ll say with a soft smile, knowing full fucking well you’ll second-guess yourself. he makes you feel like every decision was yours, even though he’s been guiding you the whole time. and the worst part? you don’t even realize it until it’s too late.

emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping

enzo doesn’t argue outright, but he’s an expert at making you feel like everything is your fault. when you expresses your feelings or doubts about your relationship, he deflects and twists the narrative.

“you’re overthinking again, love. you always do this—it’s like you’re looking for reasons to fight.”

“after everything i’ve done for you, this is how you see me? it just doesn’t seem fair, babe.”

the constant emotional exhaustion of always questioning yourself and feeling like the villain slowly pushes you to the edge.

subtle isolation

enzo doesn’t tell you to stop seeing your friends or family straight up—that would be too obvious. instead, he plants seeds of doubt about them, turning you against the people who care about you.

“it’s just… don’t you think your friends don’t really understand you? they don’t see the real you like i do. they’re only here for a good time. they wouldn’t stick with you when things are hard, like i do.”

“your sister’s always been jealous of you. it’s kind of obvious when you think about it. in fact… i think i she was flirting with me at the lake trip last weekend…”

over time, you feel more and more alone, with enzo as the only person left in your corner—and even that’s suffocating.

his temper leaks through

enzo prides himself on being calm and composed, but even he can’t keep the mask on forever. when you push back—when you really challenge him—his anger surfaces.

“you think you’re better than me now? after all i’ve done just to make you happy? you should be grateful i’m still putting up with you. no one else would.”

“you don’t get to treat me like this. i deserve better than your constant doubts.”

while he doesn't resort to outright aggression, the quiet, cutting anger and emotional coldness are enough to make you feel small and utterly helpless against him.

hypercritical tendencies

at first, enzo is the type to shower you with compliments. but once he has you, the nitpicking starts. he frames his criticisms as “helping” you or “protecting” you, but they’re really about control. he wants to cut you down until his words are the only form of validation you trust; the only ones that matter.

“that dress is nice, but it’s not really your color, is it?”

“i just think you’d be happier if you didn’t spend so much time on things that don’t matter.”

it’s not that he truly thinks badly of you; it’s just his way of slowly implementing his control. the constant criticism erodes your self-esteem, making you wonder if you’re ever enough for him.

dismisses your autonomy

enzo frames his controlling nature as “taking care of you” or “looking out for you,” but it’s really about stripping away your agency.

he might make decisions for you without asking, like ordering for you at a restaurant or canceling your plans because he thinks you “need rest.” you simply don’t get a say.

“i only did it because i know what’s best for you. you’d do the same for me if you cared as much as i do.”

over time, you realize you don’t have control over your own life anymore—and that terrifies you.

you start to feel like you’re losing your identity. the things you love—your hobbies, your friends, even your sense of self—have all been swallowed up by enzo’s world.

his fear of losing control turns ugly

when you start pulling away, enzo’s fear of losing you makes him tighten his grip. he might start tracking your whereabouts, showing up uninvited, or trying to manipulate you into staying.

“you’re not yourself lately, baby. i think you need me more than ever right now.”

“are you seriously leaving me after everything we’ve been through? i thought you were better than this. i thought you loved me—was it all a joke to you?”

his desperation exposes just how deeply insane, how utterly selfish he really is—and how dangerous it is to stay—but you still can’t help loving him.

the breaking point: seeing the mask slip

your breaking point comes when you finally see enzo for what he truly is. maybe it’s a moment of anger where his charm gives way to cold cruelty. maybe it’s realizing how isolated you’ve become or maybe it’s catching him in a lie.

“you know what? you’ll never find someone like me again. you’ll never find someone who loves you the way i do—or touches you the way i do.”

“go ahead and leave. but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else will put up with you.”

and suddenly, the illusion you’ve clung to—the one where enzo is perfect, where his love is worth the pain—is shattered.

enzo doesn’t beg you to stay. no, he’s far more subtle. he sets the stage so that if you even think about leaving, the world around you becomes a constant reminder of him. your friends adore him. “enzo’s perfect for you,” they say, oblivious to his carefully crafted facade, oblivious to the fact that he doesn’t even want them within 50 feet of you. your family loves him because he’s gone out of his way to charm them. “he’s such a gentleman,” your mom gushes after he brings her flowers for no reason at all.

and when you confront him? he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t yell. instead, he sighs, looking at you with those soft, sad eyes. “i just wish you’d trust me,” he says, and suddenly you’re the one apologizing.

and enzo’s love isn’t love—it’s obsession. he doesn’t just want to be with you; he wants to consume you. he integrates himself so deeply into your life that it feels impossible to untangle yourself from him.

he’ll listen to all your favorite songs and tell you how much he loves them too. “this one reminds me of you,” he’ll say, and suddenly, every melody feels like it belongs to him.

he’ll watch all your favorite shows, quote them back to you, and make inside jokes so that even your comfort series becomes a part of his web.

he’ll charm your friends and family until they’re all on his side. “you’re lucky to have him,” they’ll say when you confide in them. and if you ever leave? they’ll tell you you’re making one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

“i just don’t understand,” he’ll say if you call him out. “everything i’ve ever done was for you. because i love you.”

and here’s the thing about enzo: even when he’s truly, deeply in love, he’s still toxic. love doesn’t magically make him a better person—it just changes the way he manipulates you. instead of using his charm to pull you in, he’ll use his insecurities to keep you there. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he whispers, and it sounds more like a warning than a confession. almost like he’s saying he’d become worthless without you.

but love does soften him in some ways. his need for control isn’t about power anymore; it’s about fear. he’s terrified of losing you, so he holds on tighter. he’s still manipulative, still controlling, but now it’s because he genuinely believes he can’t live without you.

enzo’s love is messy and overwhelming. it’s the kind of love that makes you feel like you’re drowning, but at the same time, you can’t imagine living without it. and that’s the tragedy of lorenzo berkshire: no matter what he does, you can’t help but love him anyway. even when you see his true colors, you’re already too far gone.

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

navigation. masterlist. lorenzo berkshire masterlist.

[inseobts]

Could I get the kidd pirates (wire, heat, kid, killer) reactions to the reader saying that they feel safe with them? Let's say the reader led a kill or be killed life where trust was scarce and death was a guarantee matched with isolation. But after joining the crew, despite the fact its a similar life style, they feel safer.

Sorry for the kinda odd request, hope your having a good day ✌️

Safe Among Monsters

kidd pirates x reader (platonic)

a/n: thank you for the request!! hope this is what you wanted and you'll like it (●'◡'●)

words count: 0.8k

tags: kidd pirates, hurt/comfort, emotional bonds, trust, safety

masterlist || ko-fi

The sea is always dangerous. You know this well. A life of blood and survival has shaped you, made you sharp, but also left you alone. Trust is a weakness. Safety is an illusion. At least, that’s what you believed before joining the Kidd Pirates.

But now… now, things feel different.

You sit on the deck, watching the ocean. The salty wind plays with your hair, and for once, you feel at peace. Heat sits nearby, fixing his weapons. Wire leans against a crate, quiet as usual. Killer sharpens his blades, the steady sound of metal against stone filling the air. And Kid? He’s yelling at some poor crewmember for messing up something in the engine room.

You take a deep breath. This is the closest thing to home you’ve ever had.

“I feel safe here” you say without thinking.

Silence.

The sound of Killer’s blade pauses. Heat’s hands still. Wire actually lifts his head. And Kid? Well, Kid turns so fast you think he might snap his own neck.

“The hell did you just say?” Kid asks, stomping toward you.

You blink “I said I feel safe here.”

Kid stares at you like you just grew a second head “Safe? With us?” he asks as he gestures wildly “We’re pirates! We kill people! We steal! We fight the Marines and the damn Emperors! How the hell is that safe?!”

You shrug “I’ve lived a life where trust meant death. Where every second was a fight to survive. And yet, with you guys, I don’t feel like I have to watch my back all the time.”

Kid looks completely lost. He crosses his arms, grumbling “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re just bad with emotions” Heat says, smirking.

“Shut up, Heat!”

Heat chuckles before looking at you “You really mean that?”

You nod “Yeah. I know we fight and kill, but… it’s different. I don’t feel alone.”

Wire exhales, running a hand through his hair “Tch. Can’t believe anyone would feel safe around us. We’re... monsters.”

“Not to me” you say simply.

Killer, who has been silent, finally speaks “You trust us.”

You meet his gaze “Yeah, I do.”

He tilts his head, studying you for a long moment. Then, he nods “Good.”

Kid groans “You’re all too soft.”

“Maybe,” Heat says, grinning “But at least we’re not in denial like you.”

“I AM NOT—!”

You laugh, and to your surprise, Killer chuckles too. Even Wire smirks. The tension fades, and the conversation shifts, but something lingers in the air, something unspoken but understood.

They won’t say it outright. Not in words. But you know. They feel it too.

You are safe here.

Not because the world is less dangerous.

But because you are not alone anymore.

Days pass, but the words stay in your mind. The crew still fights, still raids, still risks their lives every day, but something in their eyes has changed when they look at you. There’s an understanding now. A silent promise.

One evening, after a long battle at sea, you sit beside Killer, your back against the ship’s railing. He’s quiet, as usual, but you don’t mind. The silence between you is comfortable.

“You’re really not scared of us at all?” he finally asks.

You shake your head “No. Not anymore.”

He hums in response. Then, after a pause, he says “If you ever feel different… if you ever feel unsafe… tell me.”

You smile “I will.”

Across the deck, Kid watches you both, his expression unreadable. Wire mutters something under his breath, and Heat just grins. It’s a strange family, but it’s yours.

And for the first time in your life, you don’t feel alone.

Another storm rolls in one night, violent waves crashing against the hull. The ship rocks dangerously, and the crew scrambles to secure everything. You’re drenched, holding onto the railing as the wind howls.

Kid barks orders, his voice barely audible over the storm “Tie down the sails! Secure the cargo!”

You move to help, but a massive wave sends you staggering. A strong hand grabs your wrist, Killer. He pulls you upright, nodding “Stay close.”

Through the chaos, you realize something... no one is afraid. The crew works together, trusting each other completely. Despite the danger, there’s no panic. Just confidence.

When the storm finally passes, the crew collapses on the deck, exhausted but victorious. You sit beside Heat, breathing hard.

“You alright?” he asks, glancing at you.

You nod “Yeah. That was… intense.”

He grins “Storms happen. We get through them.”

Wire chuckles, running a hand through his wet hair “You held up well.”

Killer sits nearby, quietly cleaning his weapons. Kid crosses his arms, looking at the sea. Then, he glances at you “Still feel safe?”

You meet his gaze “Yeah.”

A beat of silence. Then, Kid smirks “Good.”

And just like that, you know you belong here.

[asdfghjklartblog]

My Time

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

Part 1 (here), Part 2, Part 3

I’ve been getting into vocaloid songs, or like songs that use Teto and Miku’s voices. Anyways since I used to be really into Miku I wanted to use that cause well… What kind of person doesn’t love Miku?

I hope you guys like it. I think there’s some spelling mistakes or typos and if there is, sorry :P but otherwise I don’t got much to say! Good reading! It’s about 5.8k words! Yay!

Your mother, m/n was a beautiful woman. Strong, charming, and stubborn, at least that’s what your daddy said. And you might not remember mommy, but you trust daddy. He says that mommy loved you, that she loved you so much, but that she couldn’t come back. You didn’t really understand, not at the time. I mean how could a two-year-old grapple with the concept of death? However, even though your mom left, you weren’t lonely, you had daddy. Daddy wasn’t your real father, no, but he’s the one that’s been loving you and taking care of you. He’s the one that told you stories when you went to bed, tucked you in and kissed you good night. He held you when you were scared, cuddled you when you wanted love. He was everything you could ever want, he promised to stay with you till you got sick of him. He promised he’d be there for you no matter what.

You woke up for your first day of preschool, and when you go to look at your little froggy clock you saw that it was already 9 in the morning. You ran over to your daddy’s room excitedly chattering about how you were going to be late because of him which makes you giggle, because usually daddy would chastise and tease you about making them late. You open the door to find him still, there’s stab wounds all over his chest and dried blood all over the bed, his eyes are dull and lifeless and there’s bruises at his neck and wrists.

You shiver as a breeze comes through the open window. You stand there for a while, confused on what to do. There’s this bad feeling in your stomach but despite that you slowly approach the bed. You poke your dad and try to wake him up, you notice that he’s cold, daddy’s never cold. He’s always warm and comforting and perfect for cuddles. You start crying, not really knowing why. You climb up on the bed and curl up beside him. The sheets are crusty with blood and it feels all gross and but that doesn’t really matter to you right now. You just want to stay here with daddy.

You don’t know how long you’re there but at some point daddy’s phone rings. You stare at it, frozen in place before you climb down from the bed and go over to it. You pick up the phone and a woman says. “Hello! This is Thierry Preschool, we were wondering if your child y/n was still coming? It’s been about two hours since it started and we were just checking.”

You don’t know what to say to her. You fidget a bit before mumbling. “H-Hello. Daddy can’t come to the phone right now. Um. I’m scared. Daddy isn’t moving and there’s blood all over? That’s bad, right? Daddy’s cold and everything and -and I don’t know what to do!”

You start sniffling, on the verge of crying again as the person on the other line stays silent. She then gently and calmly says. “Honey, it’s going to be okay. Can you tell me where you live honey? Calm down and watch some TV or read a book, okay honey? Can you do that for me? Can you be strong for me?”

You sniffle and nod trying to get out a choked up “Yeah.” From your throat. You try your best to mumble out an address as she coos about how good of a job you’re doing and how she needs you to stay calm. Before she hangs up, she tells you that some nice men will come to pick you up and that you have to be good for them. You nod and mumble an okay. You go back to curl up against your daddy, you bury your face into his chest and whisper to him.

“People are coming. It’s okay daddy. We’ll be okay. I love you. You’ll wake up soon right? Please? I’ll be a good girl daddy I promise.”

The nice men come and they look at you and daddy with… An expression you’ve never seen before. It makes you feel worse. They try to tear you away from him but you hold onto daddy with a death grip while you scream and shout as they try to convince you to let go. You’re scared. You don’t wanna let him go. They eventually pry you away from him as you wail and try your best to wriggle out of their hold. After that, it’s a bit of a blur. You were wrangled into a police car as one of them sat in the backseat with you trying to calm you down.

You look out the window, watching as the officer drives through the streets, going through traffic. You’re escorted into a building and taken into a room where a police officer try to question you gently. However the next thing you know everything gets blurry, it’s hard to breathe and it feels like your insides are spiky. When you can breathe again some man with a scruffy face and blocky glasses is holding you close to his chest saying things like. “It’s okay, you’re alright.” And “Breathe, breathe for me.” You calm down, not because of his words, but because he looks a bit like dad. His scruffy face, his gentle smile, his dark green eyes. It makes you bury your face into the man’s chest and whisper out a small broken. “Don’t leave me.”

The next thing you can remember was the man carrying you around like a baby, mostly because even after the weird “panic attack” or whatever the police officer called it, you wouldn’t let go of him. Which made the man holding you look at you sadly. He gives in and instead of forcing you to let go and go back to doing work, he starts showing you all kinds of things, giving you a tour around the police station. You learn from one of the men that the guy holding you is named Commissioner Gordon. Weird name. It sounds kinda cool though.

Once you’ve fully calmed down he carries you over to where a nurse is and he distracts you by talking about dinosaurs which you excitedly listen to while they draw some blood to see if you’re healthy and to notify any blood relatives. Commie says you’re being a very good girl and that they’ll have results in less than an hour, he also asks if you’re hungry which you nod enthusiastically to. He then leaves to get you some chips and a donut from the break room. You’re about to start chowing down before Commie asks. “Hold on there kid, isn’t there something you need to say before eating?”

You stand there staring at him and then make an ‘Oh!’ face and say. “Thanks Commie!”

You don’t notice but as you start eating the donut that a couple of the police officers laugh while Commie cracks a smile and then huffs before saying. “Kid, Commissioner isn’t my first name. It’s Jim.”

You then absentmindedly say as you take another bite of the donut. “Oh. Okay Jimmy.”

One of the guards starts laughing again and this time even Jimmy chuckles. However someone comes in and whispers to Jimmy and he then turns back to the person as they whisper to each other. Another officer takes it upon himself to distract and picks you up before throwing you up into the air and catching you. Making you giggle and ask for more. Jimmy approaches again and he subtly asks the officer distracting you to put you down. Jimmy takes a knee looking at you at eye level and hesitates before saying. “We… Found some people you’re… Related to. We called them up and asked if they’d take you in, and he said yes. Do you know Bruce Wayne? He’s your daddy-“

You immediately interrupt him saying. “But I already have a daddy. I don’t need another one-“

Jimmy interrupts you trying to gently say. “I’m sorry. But.. Your daddy… He can’t take care of you anymore-“

“What do you mean? Why? Can’t you help him? I’ve been waiting and being a good girl! Does daddy not want me anymore?”

“Honey-“

“No! I’ve been good! Daddy said he’d stay with me! He promised, h-he-“

Jimmy interrupts with a firm call of your name which makes you stop. He puts a hand on your shoulder and brings you into a hug as he gently says to you. “I’m sorry. He’s gone.” As those words tumble out of his mouth you tear up again and you raise your arms to cling on to him for dear life. You bawl and hiccup and he’s there to take all of your anger, your sadness until you’ve calmed down again. He pulls away from you and tries to talk to you, but you’re tired. You’re sad, you don’t have the energy to talk. He sighs and then holds your hand and guides you to a bench, he pats your head and says. “How about you wait here? Since your room is not exactly under investigation I could maybe swipe some things for you? Do you have a favorite toy or picture I can get for you?”

You wait trying to think about what you would want from your room. You think of your little stuffed owl that daddy named Oliver and your stuffed cat you named Oliver 2. You want the picture on your nightstand of you, mommy and daddy. You want the special night light daddy made for you. You want your dinosaur pjs daddy got for your birthday, you try your best to relay this Jimmy but all that comes out are little mumbles and whimpers.

He sighs and says with a small smile. “Tell ya what kid, when you go stay with da- Bruce. Why don’t you have him send an email or make him call us about what you want from home. And I’ll get those things for you. How does that sound kid?”

You look up at him, slowly and you hesitantly nod. He ruffles your head and with a smile and says. “‘Atta girl!”

Which makes you smile a bit before your face going blank. He sighs at that and says. “Someone’ll be here to pick you up shortly. And-“

You hear someone running and turn to look where it’s coming from. You see some guy comes running and stops in front of you. He heaves as he holds something familiar under his arm. After he catches his breath he smiles at you before handing you the thing under his arm. A stuffed owl which you immediately recognize as Oliver. He winks at you and then crouches down to your height as he says.

“Hey kid, my name’s Ethan Bennett. Man, you are like a carbon copy of Bruce. Well, except for your eyes, yours are e/c and a lot softer. Shit, where do I even start. Uh, Oh! I’m your uncle, well, not your actual uncle but like, you can consider me as one. I’m a detective under Commissioner Gordon. I’m also your dad’s best friend, I’m not the one here to pick you up, I’m actually still on the clock but uh. This guy,” He says as he holds up Oliver with a smug smile. “Said that he needed to get to you. So I did him a favor. Just… Don’t tell anyone.”

You take Oliver from his hand and while Jimmy and Uncle Bennett argue you start to tear up again. You hug Oliver tight burying your face in his soft downy chest. Then looking up at Uncle Bennett, you quietly say. “Thank you.” Which he pauses the argument for, before smiling down at you. “You’re welcome, kid. Say how about I wait with you huh? I could show you pictures of your daddy-“

You immediately interrupt. “Not my daddy.”

Ethan looks a bit confused at that, and looks to Jimmy for an explanation. Jimmy shrugs and motions for Uncle Bennett to continue. “Should I call him your dad?”

You nod, confirming that dad is an acceptable choice of words. He chuckles and then continues. “How about I show you pictures of him. So we can.. Condition you to him like a cat.”

You see Jimmy smack Uncle Bennett’s bald head which makes you giggle as Uncle tries to defend himself saying. “What? It’s true! I mean, he’s a big guy, he’s probably gonna scare her. I mean unless you know him, he looks pretty scary. And look at her.”

Uncle says as he gestures to you with both hands. “She’s barely what 4? 5? She looks like a sad wet kitten, Bruce looks like that evil grey bird that looks like it eats puppies compared to her.”

You tilt your head at that. There’s an evil bird? Your father looks like a bird? What does that mean? Your uncle is weird maybe you can get a different one. Jimmy seems like he’d be a good uncle.

They start arguing again and you go back to sit on the bench as they argued. You hold Oliver tightly in your hands and wait, you see them stop arguing with both of them leaving you to wait alone. Or at least that’s what you thought would happen. Until uncle Bennett comes back with some files in hand and some markers and pencils in the other. He sits next to you and says. “Well, I couldn’t get out of work early, but he never said I couldn’t work while I waited with you.”

You smile at him and scooch closer to him as he chuckles. And so the two of you wait. And wait. And wait some more. By 5 you then see an man that looks kinda like a butler being escorted by an officer. You tug on uncle Bennet’s dress shirt before asking. “What do you think he’s in for?”

He looks at you confused before looking up, you see his eyes widen and he starts to burst into laughter. Both the officer and fancy man look confused, and well, so are you.

Your eyes meet with the fancy man’s and his eyes widen and his pupils shrink in shock. He then schools his expression and looks at you with a smile, you shift in your seat feeling a bit uncomfortable with the look in his eyes. The fancy man walks up to you and crouches to your level, he then gently says to you.

“Hello. You must be y/n. My name is Alfred Pennyworth, I’m the butler for the Wayne family. I apologize but your father is not able to pick you up since-“

“What? Alfred what do you mean-“

Then Alfred and uncle Bennett starts talking and kinda arguing. You couldn’t care less though, you have Oliver now! You smile and nuzzle into Oliver’s fluffy chest and then squeeze the little speaker in its wing which plays a recording of your daddy humming his lullaby and then saying. “I love you my little Bubo.” You hold it closer and whisper into its fur. “I love you too daddy.” You hear uncle Bennett’s and Alfred’s argument start to quiet down and you catch uncle saying.

“-how he treats his other kid? Look, even if there was an emergency-“

Alfred sighs as he replies. “No, he does not treat master Dick like this, look. I’m not going to make excuses for him. Master Bruce had his phone on silent for a meeting and so he wasn’t able to answer, then there was Penguin who tried to steal some kind of tech there and you know how they have to follow protocol and whatnot-“

You sigh and look up at Alfred while tugging at his pant leg. They both look down at you and you just ask. “I’m tired. And hungry. I wanna go home. Can you take me home?”

They both look at each other nervously and Alfred takes a breath and says. “I apologize Miss y/n. But, you cannot go home. I understand this is hard for you, and you don’t understand what’s going on. But I, your father and your brother will take care of you. You have my word.”

You want to argue, you wanna fight and yell and say the bad words that your daddy says by accident sometimes. But you’re so small, well, at least you feel small. You’ve never felt this small, well you have, but daddy was there to hug and comfort you. As you look at Alfred, you wish something, anything would just leave your math. Instead all you can say is. “Okay. But I want warm honeyed milk and a bed time story.”

Alfred chuckles at that and nods. You don’t understand why is he laughing, You are completely serious, if you do not have your drink you will throw a tantrum. It’s the least this mysterious man can do after saying that. Alfred, then follows Ethan to go get the paperwork to take you out of the police station and to claim legal rights over you. Meanwhile you tell Oliver about your day, about the scary things that happened. You look at Oliver’s beady eyes and whisper. “I hope my dad likes me. Daddy says I’m a good girl so they’ll like me, I know they will. And even if they don’t, daddy says that some people are just stupid and dumb and don’t deserve to be your friends.”

Alfred comes back with a thick folder of paperwork which you frown at, you don’t like paper. It makes the people you like busy, specifically daddy. You hate when daddy has paperwork. You then look up to Alfred and tug on his pant leg as you whisper up to him. “Do you hate paperwork too?”

He raises an eyebrow at you with a little smile on his face, he takes your hand and starts to lead you out of the police station as you two start to converse. You talk to him about anything that comes to mind. From what you think of paperwork to which Hercules beetle you love the most, to how you peed your pants at the aquarium while you were out in the play area. Alfred had to contain his laughter as you described all of the kids started crying, including you. Finally you arrive at this big building and you look up at it in awe, you then look around at the courtyard and the scary but pretty style of the building. You look up to Alfred and say. “This is like, a bajillion times bigger than my home!”

Before Alfred can stop you, you start running off to the front door giggling and squealing as Alfred tries to catch you. After a few minutes of expertly dodging and wiggling out of his hold like some slippery snake. He catches you and then throws you under his arm which you make a little ‘oof’ sound at.

Alfred then takes you through the foyer and after going through some hallways, which you don’t keep track of, you get to the kitchen. He sits you down at a stool by the kitchen island and says. “Don’t go running off miss y/n we wouldn’t want you to get lost after all.” You sigh and then nod before you stretch and yawn.

Someone comes into the kitchen and says. “Hello Alfred, who’s the kid?” You look at the person talking and see a guy that looks around Alfred’s age and a some teenager following behind him. You try to get off from the stool, now bored out of your mind as Alfred talks to the other man while the teen notices you and goes over to help. He takes you off the stool and says. “What’s your name?”

You look at him dead in the eyes and then slap his thigh and say. “Tag!” You start booking it as you giggle, your game of tag now in session. The teen looks at you with wide eyes and starts to chase after you. Realizing that it was a mistake putting you on the ground. You go into a room and find that it’s a bedroom, you giggle as you put a pillow under the covers to trick the boy and then get under the bed.

He comes rushing in saying. “Hey, this isn’t funny. Come on, if you come out I’ll… uh, get Alfred to make you cookies? I don’t know. Uh, just come out. I’d rather not have Mr. Wayne or my dad scold me about letting some kid loose in the manor.”

He then sees the trap you laid out for him and as soon as he gets close to the bed you shoot your hands out to grab at his ankles, which makes him scream like a girl and practically jump away like some spider or grasshopper. You start giggling maniacally as he falls on to his butt. You then come out from under the bed as you say. “I got you!” In a sing songy voice as you sit next to him. The teen sighs and stands up, he dusts himself off and says. “Yeah you got-“ and then ambushes you by picking you up from your armpits and says. “Hah! In your face!”

You giggle some more as you whine “No” trying to wiggle out of the teen’s hold. After you calm down you look up at him and ask. “Hi! What’s your name?”

He replies with a small smirk saying. “I’m Luke Fox. And you? What’s your name you little rascal?”

You grin widely, like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland and say. “Y/n! And my last name is l/n! Nice to meet you!”

He smiles back and then holds you to his chest and starts to walk back to the kitchen as he says. “So… Bruce Wayne’s kid huh? I can tell. You look a lot like him. A lot smaller and cuter, but still.”

Your mischievous smile disappears and you instead, bury your face into his chest as you reply. “Yeah. Uncle Bennett said that too. I don’t care, I just want my daddy back.”

Luke looks at you a bit confused and then you explain to him what happened today. All the way from the moment you woke up to just right now. At some point during your retelling of the accounts of today, he stops walking leaving you two just standing in the middle of some hallway. After you finished he looks at you with the same expression those police officers that found you had, the same sad expression that Jimmy and Uncle tried to hide as well. You don’t like how it feels to be looked at like this. It makes your chest kinda heavy and your stomach weird. Luke holds you closer, staying silent for a bit before saying. “My mom makes me this really bomb ass hot cho- Shit I said a- Dammit! Fuck!”

When Luke groans at himself for cussing in front of a literal child you start to giggle. You smile and then tap his shoulder before whispering into his ear. “Daddy swears a lot too. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Pinky swear!” As she raises her hand and pinky so they can swear on it together.

He chuckles and pinky swears with you, not long after you two enter the kitchen, with you still in his arms. You see that neither the man or Alfred noticed you or Luke were gone. You couldn’t care less however. At least you made your first friend. You then see someone else some into the kitchen, he’s tall and… Wow. He really does look like you. You wriggle in Luke’s arms, telling him to let you down. Meanwhile Bruce, the person people keep talking about, your supposed father, walks past you and Luke. His focus is on Alfred and Luke’s dad, Luke finally lets you down after teasing you a bit more and you slowly walk over to Bruce. You stare at his face as he talks to the other two men, he had the same spiky eyebrows as you. You’ve never seen someone with the same eyebrows as you.

You shift nervously before patting your clothes and hair down before tugging on his pant leg. You look up at him with a small hopeful smile. Bruce looks down at you and his eyes widen impossibly before he schools his face before giving you a smile, he opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt. “Hello! I am y/n l/n. We look alike! I like your eyes. They look like how mint tastes. Why are you so big? Will I get that big? Do you think I’ll be taller than you?”

He looks at you strangely, a bit surprised and a bit… Something else? Whatever it is it makes you kinda feel bad and you don’t like that. You fidget as he turns his attention towards Luke’s dad and Alfred. Talking about something else again. You look back at Luke and he looks a bit confused and slightly agitated, he then fixes his face and smiles at you before walking over and saying. “He’s probably just tired or something. How about I make something for you? Sandwich maybe?”

You nod and follow him to the fridge as you look through everything. He shows you some some sandwich ingredients taking the time to show you each one and answering your questions about it. He then makes the sandwich for you, although he’s slightly cringing as you bite into your “abomination sandwich”. Which is what he called your delicious sandwich, and is definitely NOT an abomination. You’re eating at the little island on the stool that’s as big as you and you see another kid walk in. He has black hair and pretty blue eyes, you wave hi and he looks at you confused and a bit judgmental. The kid then asks you. “Who are you?”

You answer back. “Y/n. What’s your name?”

“None of your business.” He replies in a snarky tone.

You look at him, surprised and then glare at him, before you can snap back Luke says. “That’s Dick. He’s gonna be your brother. Kinda. Also, come on Dick. Be nicer.”

Dick huffs and and grumbles “Fine.” before he goes over to the fridge to look through it. He gasp, offended by something. He then glares at you and asks. “Did you finish all the prosciutto? I was gonna have that as a snack, I was saving it for a good day!”

Before Luke can apologize for you, you look at Dick and say. “Well maybe you should’ve had a note on it or something! This is my first day here! I don’t know you people!”

Dick looks you up and down and then marches up to where you’re sitting and nabs half of your sandwich and takes a bite, it only takes a moment before he’s sputtering and coughing because of the overly salty and spicy sandwich. You look on with both anger and slight satisfaction, angry he stole your sandwich and satisfied that he’s in pain. Luke tries to hide a smile as he turns away and hides his trembling mouth with his hand.

The adults then turn to look at you three, wondering what the commotion is. Alfred sighs and goes over to try and calm down Dick while Bruce looks at you disapprovingly. You look at Bruce, offended and stick your tongue and blow a raspberry at him before going back to your sandwich, tearing into the sandwich like you were a hyena and the sandwich was your carcass. Luke chuckles at that before saying. “Come on, don’t be mean. He’s only had Dick for what? Less than a month?”

You look at Luke with appalled face and say. “He isn’t even a real dad?!”

Bruce sighs as he looks down and asks Alfred. “So? What’s the situation with her? And have you-“

You can see Luke looks at Bruce with a weird face, something like a cross of disappointment and disgust before turning to you, and using his body to cover your view of almost everyone in the room. He then says. “Hey, how about we go to the living room? I’ll take you there. We could watch a movie or something? Oh, my dad showed me this movie called Totoro. Or something, you look like you’d live it! Let’s see if I can-“

He starts talking idly, as if to fill in space. When your finished with your sandwich he takes you off the chair and hurriedly walks you out of the kitchen and into the living room. He has you sit close to him so you two could watch it on his phone. You barely get through the first half before his dad comes over to say. “Come on, Luke. It’s time for us to go.” Luke tries to ask for a bit more time. He nudges your shoulder and whispers. “Hey, do some puppy eyes come on.”

What the hell are puppy eyes, you think to yourself before tilting your head at him like a puppy. Luke’s dad rolls his eyes with an affectionate look on his face before saying. “It’s a school night kid. Plus, your mom would kill me if I let you stay out past curfew again.”

Luke throws his head back groans dramatically before saying. “All my other friends can stay out past 8-“

“Well I’m not their parents am I? I’m yours. Now I’ll be waiting in the car for you.” Luke’s dad then turns to you and ruffles your hair before saying. “It was nice to meet you little one. Have a good night.”

You nod at him, and the man nods back before going over to the coatrack, getting his coat and leaving. Luke looks at you with a small pout on his face he sighs before ruffling your hair too, which makes you smile. He then gets up with a groan, just like daddy does. You follow as he also goes to get his coat and hat he then puts on his stuff and says. “Guess I gotta go… Have a goodnight y/n. Take care of yourself.”

He then gives you a hug before leaving. You yell after him. “Good night Luke! Sleep well!”

He smiles at that and waves at you before getting into his dad’s car, driving off and leaving you in the manor. You go back inside and go back to the living area where you see Alfred. You walk up to him and tilt your head like a curious puppy, waiting for him to announce his intentions. Alfred smiles before he says. “I came to inform you that I have gotten your room ready. On another note, it is time for you to go to bed young lady.”

You put up a hand and in a serious tone of voice you say. “No. You must have forgotten our deal. I want a hot chocolate, a fancy one with cinnamon, heavy cream.”

Alfred raises an eyebrow and asks. “Really? If I recall our agreement was that I’d make you honeyed milk. How strange. I suppose I should get rid of the honeyed milk that I put in your room then?”

You vehemently shake your head and say. “N-No! That’s fine! I’ll drink it! It’s mine! You can’t take it back!”

Alfred then lets out a hum of consideration. “If you say so. Now come along. I must tuck you in before the hour.”

This man speaks funny. You like it. You then try to imitate him using the fanciest words you know, like anemone and hypertension. He laughs but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the accent or because you probably used the words wrong. Anyways he brings you to your new room and you gasp at how big it is, you hurriedly take off your shoes and put them right next to the door before you run straight for the bed and climb on to it, it’s so soft!

You then notice the hot milk on the bedside table, you crawl over and sit on the edge of the bed so you can take a sip. You sigh in delight at the taste, the milk is nice and creamy with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon as well as some honey to make it sweet. You yawn and get off the bed so you can walk over to Alfred. “Thank you, it’s really yummy. Can I have some pajamas now? I’m sleepy and so is Oliver-“

You then realize that you don’t have Oliver in your arms, and you can’t remember where you put him. Your eyes become blurry as tears fill your vision, you look up at Alfred and whine. “Where’s Oliver? I can’t remember where he is.. Can you help me find him?”

Alfred opens his mouth to say something but a beep comes from his phone, he sighs and says. “I will bring him soon, just lie down and-“

You interrupt him saying. “No! He’s always there when I sleep! I need him, if my daddy isn’t gonna be here then I need Oliver to be here at least!” You don’t like how Alfred is trying to hurry things up. You don’t like that daddy’s not here, you don’t like how Oliver’s not here, you hate that your favorite people are leaving and you HATE everything about this day. Sure you met new and nice people, but you want Daddy. You want him to kiss your face and tickle your tummy and hug you. You start sobbing and pulling on your h/c hair and trying your best to not choke on air.

Alfred looks at you sadly and then sighs, he then gets on one knee and says. “Miss y/n. Please stop. I will get Oliver for you, I will be right back. I promise. I will return with your dear Oliver and some old pajamas.”

You look back at him and nod as you sniffle. You sit on your bed and sip on your warm milk while Alfred leaves to go get Oliver and some pajamas. You wait, and wait. and wait some more. But he never comes. You accidentally fall asleep, finished with your drink and more tired than you’ve ever felt. That’s when you realized, no one’s gonna take care of you like daddy, no one’s gonna tuck you in, kiss your tears away, or any of the other things he used to do. You curl up and cry softly in the early morning light, mourning the loss of your father. Something that you didn’t know was possible until it happened.

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I hope you like it! I already have the next few chapters planned so it will be angst for the next 3 or 4 chapters :)))

[bluelavendre]

Please, I'll Change, I PROMISE!

Mafia Jungkook x Reader

Y/n’s Pov

Dating someone whose life is filled with shadows, whose actions are often unpredictable, is terrifying. One minute, you’re laughing together, lost in your own bubble, and the next, you’re haunted by the possibility that this chaotic love might cost you your life. And yet, with every scar, every tear, you still find yourself clinging to the love they offer, no matter how broken or twisted it might be.

Jeon Jungkook was a mystery when I first met him. I was on a business trip in Tokyo, minding my own business at a club. I didn’t know who he was, nor did I care. His charm was magnetic—dark eyes, that dangerous aura, a smile that made my heart skip even when I knew I shouldn’t have fallen for it. He seemed just like any other guy at the club... until the night of our anniversary.

We were at a high-end restaurant in Seoul, trying to enjoy our quiet dinner. I hadn’t noticed the tension in the air, the quiet whispers and the cold stares that followed Jungkook everywhere he went. Not until it was too late.

Gunshots rang out, shattering the silence. My heart raced, my mind couldn’t process what was happening. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, and everything went black.

When I woke up, the sterile smell of a hospital room hit me before I even opened my eyes. Jungkook was there, sitting beside me, his face clouded with guilt and something darker.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved with me,” he muttered under his breath, as though the words physically hurt him. He wasn’t even looking at me, his hands clenching at his sides. I didn’t respond; the words I wanted to say got stuck in my throat.

“You don’t understand, do you?” he continued, his voice strained. “I never wanted you to get hurt. I swear, I tried... but it’s not that easy. This life, this world... it’s all I know.”

I saw it in his eyes then, the truth—the weight of the choices he had made. Jungkook wasn’t just a man who got caught up in bad situations. He was the situation. The danger, the chaos, the violence—it was all tied to him, and somehow, I had been pulled into it.

That night, he swore to me he would change, that he would get out of this life. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that the man I loved could be different. But promises are fragile things, and the promises he made never lasted long.

Three years later…

Nothing had changed. We still lived in this cycle, like two people trapped in the same nightmare, unable to wake up.

Jungkook came home late, sometimes drunk, sometimes high, sometimes not at all. There were nights I’d wait for him, my heart pounding in my chest, praying that tonight would be different, that maybe this time he’d come back unscathed. But more often than not, he didn’t.

“You’re still waiting up for me?” Jungkook asked one night, his voice raspy and filled with a hint of amusement as he stumbled into the apartment, eyes bloodshot and full of something else I couldn’t quite place. "You're too good for me, Y/n. You deserve better."

“Then why don’t you give me better?” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, the hurt creeping into my words. "You promised you would stop."

He looked at me, his gaze sharp, almost cold, yet there was something beneath the surface. Guilt. Love. Regret? "I can’t walk away from this," he said, his words harsh, but his eyes softening. "You wouldn’t understand, Y/n. I’ve been in this for too long. It’s who I am, it’s what I do."

I knew it was no use. He couldn’t escape his past—he couldn’t escape who he was. And maybe I didn’t want him to. Because in the end, no matter how many times he hurt me, I couldn’t stop loving him. Maybe that was the real curse.

Jungkook walked over, kneeling in front of me, his eyes searching mine as if trying to find something he’d lost. His hand reached up to gently touch my face, his thumb brushing over the bruise he didn’t mean to leave.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I don’t want to hurt you. I never did.”

The words felt hollow, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. His actions spoke louder than any apology ever could.

This was our reality. The love that could kill us both, and yet we stayed. Because no matter how chaotic, how painful, the connection between us was undeniable.

The blaring alarm ripped me from the warmth of my bed. With a groggy sigh, I stretched, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before glancing to the side. There he was—Jeon Jungkook.

Even in sleep, he looked intense. His long, dark hair was messily sprawled across the pillow, his tattooed arm resting over his toned chest, rising and falling with each breath. His physique was unfairly perfect—broad shoulders, defined abs, and ink that traced his skin like a masterpiece. If only he weren’t such a walking contradiction.

With a shake of my head, I slipped out of bed and headed for the shower. The water was warm, washing away my lingering exhaustion as I mentally prepared for another long day of lectures and hospital rounds. Being a med student was no joke—balancing school, life, and a relationship with someone like Jungkook? That was a whole different challenge.

By the time I was done getting ready, I stepped out of the bedroom only to be met with the smell of bacon and eggs. Jungkook stood in the kitchen, shirtless, tattoos on full display as he moved around effortlessly, flipping bacon in the pan.

“Babe, have breakfast first,” he said, turning to me with a soft smirk. His voice was still thick with sleep, but his dark eyes held that familiar intensity.

I took the plate he handed me, smiling as I looked down at the perfectly cooked meal. “This looks really good,” I said, meeting his gaze.

He simply grinned, the corner of his lip lifting slightly before he sat down across from me. We ate together in comfortable silence, the only sounds coming from the occasional clinking of silverware. Moments like these made it easy to forget who he really was outside the walls of our apartment.

Once we finished, I gathered the plates and washed them, my mind already racing through the long day ahead. When I turned around, Jungkook was by the door, pulling on his black leather jacket and grabbing his helmet. His inked fingers ran through his messy hair before he turned to me, his expression unreadable.

“Where are you going this early, Kook?” I asked, tilting my head in confusion.

He looked at me, a glint of amusement in his eyes, and held out my helmet. “I’m giving you a ride to school.”

I blinked. “You? Giving me a ride? Since when do you—”

“Since today,” he interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “Now, let’s go before you’re late.”

I rolled my eyes but took the helmet anyway, following him outside. His Harley Davidson was parked near the curb, sleek and polished, the engine humming beneath his fingertips as he revved it up.

Climbing on behind him, I wrapped my arms around his torso, feeling the warmth of his skin through his jacket. As we sped through the streets, the wind whipping against my face, I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to pretend that this was normal—that we were normal.

When we finally arrived at my university, Jungkook parked by the entrance and turned to face me. His hand reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear before he leaned in, pressing a quick peck on my lips.

“See you later, babe,” he murmured, his voice husky.

I felt my face heat up as I glanced around, but no one seemed to care. Biting my lip, I nodded and slipped off the bike. “Be careful, okay?”

He smirked again, adjusting his gloves. “Always.”

With that, he rode off, disappearing into the morning traffic. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding before heading inside.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, two familiar faces rushed toward me.

“Oooh, boyfie,” Sungkyung teased, nudging my side.

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”

Jamie, on the other hand, wasn’t as amused. She crossed her arms, giving me that knowing look. “Y/n… you know what I’m going to say.”

I sighed. “Jamie, don’t.”

“You know he’s toxic,” she pressed, lowering her voice as we walked toward class. “You have your whole future ahead of you, and he’s—”

“I know,” I cut her off, not wanting to hear it again. “But it’s not that simple.”

Jamie pursed her lips but didn’t push further. No matter how many times she tried to convince me to leave Jungkook, she never forced it—she just let me make my own choices. Even if she knew they were mistakes.

Because, deep down, I knew she was right.

But knowing something and doing something about it were two very different things.

Detaching yourself from someone who was the only person you had left was harder than people made it seem. It wasn’t just about love—it was about survival. After my grandma died, there was no one else. No family to run to, no home that felt safe. Except for him.

Jungkook.

A text message popped up on my phone, pulling me from my thoughts.

“I’ll fetch ya after school, babe. Luv u ❤️”

I stared at the message for a moment, my chest tightening. I wanted to believe him. I really did.

—

Classes ended at 7 PM.

Jamie and Sungkyung stood by the entrance with me, exchanging hesitant glances as I reassured them. “He promised, okay? I’ll be fine.”

Jamie let out a sigh. “Just... call me if anything happens.”

I nodded, waving them off as they disappeared down the hall. Then, I waited.

7:45 PM.

8:00 PM.

8:30 PM.

The streetlights flickered, casting long shadows on the pavement. My breath curled in the cold air as disappointment settled deep in my bones.

"He must’ve forgotten." The words felt bitter on my tongue, but I forced a small, humorless smile to myself before turning away.

I went home alone.

—

The apartment was dim when I walked in, the faint scent of alcohol lingering in the air. And there he was—Jungkook, sprawled on the floor, his shirt half unbuttoned, reeking of whiskey and cigarettes. His long hair was disheveled, his knuckles bruised.

I stood there for a moment, just staring. Not with anger. Not with shock. Just... exhaustion.

Without a word, I walked past him, my heart heavy but my mind numb. I did my night routine in silence, changed into my oversized hoodie, and sat at my desk to finish my homework. I didn’t even know why I was trying so hard anymore.

Jungkook didn’t even stir. Didn’t even realize I was home.

Maybe he never really did.

When I finally laid down on the bed, my body felt like lead. My mind raced, drowning in thoughts I didn’t want to acknowledge. Why am I still here? Why do I keep waiting for him? Why do I keep hoping—

The bed shifted.

Warmth.

A strong arm snaked around my waist, pulling me close. The smell of alcohol mixed with his cologne hit me before his lips brushed against the back of my neck. His voice, deep and slurred, broke through the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his grip tightening around me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my throat burning. I didn’t move. Didn’t push him away.

“I tried,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “I tried to come, baby... but I—I messed up again.” His voice cracked. “I keep messing up, don’t I?”

I felt my chest tighten painfully.

“You should leave me,” he continued, barely above a whisper. “I know I don’t deserve you. I ruin everything I touch.” His fingers curled against my hoodie, holding onto me like I was the only thing keeping him together. “But I don’t know how to let you go. You’re all I have, Y/n.”

A silent tear slipped down my cheek.

Because he was all I had too.

And that was the saddest part of it all.

The next day at school, I sat at the usual table with Jamie and Sungkyung, absentmindedly stirring my iced coffee with my straw. Last night’s events lingered in my head like a dull ache I couldn’t shake off.

Jungkook’s slurred words. His grip on my waist. The way I had silently cried myself to sleep while he held me like I was his lifeline.

“Y/n, hellooo?” Sungkyung waved a hand in front of my face, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Huh? What?” I blinked, realizing I had completely zoned out.

Sungkyung rolled her eyes playfully. “You so weren’t listening.”

Jamie sighed, nudging my arm. “We were saying—we should have a girl’s night!”

I gave a small, halfhearted smile. “That’s a nice idea…”

“Yes! Finally, you’re agreeing to something fun without us dragging you,” Sungkyung cheered.

Jamie, however, wasn’t as easily convinced. She studied me carefully, her brows furrowing. “Are you okay, Y/n?”

I hesitated. Lying felt useless—they both knew me too well.

“I just... didn’t get much sleep,” I admitted, taking a sip of my coffee. It wasn’t entirely false.

Sungkyung scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, I know why.”

Jamie shot her a warning glance, but it was too late.

Sungkyung leaned forward dramatically. “Let me guess—Jungkook promised to pick you up, but he never showed, so you waited, went home alone, and found him drunk?”

I flinched at how spot-on she was. My fingers gripped my cup tighter.

Jamie groaned. “Sungkyung.”

“What?! I’m just saying the truth.” She turned to me, her voice softening. “Y/n… I hate seeing you like this. You deserve so much better.”

Jamie nodded in agreement. “That’s why we need this girls’ night. No stress. No boy drama. Just us, unwinding.”

Sungkyung grinned, nudging me. “We’ll get you out of that sad, mopey mood if it’s the last thing we do.”

I let out a small chuckle despite myself. “You guys are too much.”

Jamie smirked. “And you love us for it.”

“Damn right she does,” Sungkyung said smugly. “So, it’s settled. We’re dressing up, going out, and reminding Y/n that life is fun without a tattooed, emotionally unavailable boyfriend.”

I rolled my eyes but felt a warmth spread in my chest.

Maybe, for just one night, I could pretend things were okay.

“Fine. I’m in.”

Sungkyung and Jamie cheered, high-fiving each other like they just won a battle.

I smiled—really smiled—for the first time that day.

Maybe this was exactly what I needed.

Friday night.

I zipped up my overnight bag, stuffing a few last-minute things inside before slinging it over my shoulder. The excitement for our girls' night should’ve been the only thing on my mind, but the heavy presence behind me was impossible to ignore.

Jungkook had just stepped out of the shower, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead as he towel-dried it. His tattoos were still glistening from the steam, and his silver lip ring caught the light as he spoke.

“How long are you gonna be there?” he asked, voice low.

I didn’t look at him. “I’ll be back on Sunday.”

Silence. Then, the bed creaked as he sat down, reaching for me. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him. His warmth was intoxicating, his scent a mix of soap and the faintest trace of whiskey from the night before.

“I’ll miss you,” he murmured against my shoulder.

I sighed, placing my hands over his for a brief moment. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”

Jungkook tightened his grip slightly. “I’ll fetch you on Sunday. I promise.”

I only hummed in response. Promises with Jungkook were... unpredictable.

—

The ride to Sungkyung’s place was quiet. Jungkook’s hand rested on my thigh as he drove, occasionally tapping his fingers against my skin like he wanted to say something but never did.

When we finally arrived, Sungkyung and Jamie were already waiting outside, arms crossed like two judgmental older sisters.

Jungkook barely had time to park before Sungkyung let out a low whistle. “Wow, what a rare sight. Jeon Jungkook actually following through on something?”

Jamie shot her a look before turning to me. “You good?”

I nodded, stepping off the bike as Jungkook handed me my bag. His fingers brushed mine for just a second too long.

Sungkyung leaned in, lowering her voice. “You better not mess this up for her, Jungkook.”

Jungkook only smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I said I’d fetch her, didn’t I?”

Jamie sighed, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go, before he starts making empty promises again.”

Jungkook tensed at that, but I only gave him a small nod before following my friends inside.

As we walked up to the door, Sungkyung whispered, “Okay, that was tense. We need shots. Immediately.”

I let out a breath and smiled. Maybe this weekend was exactly what I needed.

The weekend was full of laughter, inside jokes, and carefree moments with Jamie and Sungkyung. For the first time in a long while, I felt… happy. Really happy.

We danced in crowded clubs, ate overpriced desserts at cute cafés, and spent late nights in our hotel room talking about everything and nothing.

It felt normal.

It felt like a life I could’ve had.

As we lounged on the hotel bed, scrolling through pictures we took that weekend, Jamie suddenly spoke up.

“See?” she said, nudging me. “You’re happy without him.”

I stiffened. The warmth I felt earlier dulled instantly.

“Jamie, not this topic, please.” I sighed.

Jamie’s expression softened, but she didn’t back down. “Y/n… I’m just concerned for you. We are.”

Sungkyung nodded, her voice gentler than usual. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

I bit my lip, looking down at my hands. “I know.”

“Then why?” Sungkyung pressed. “Why are you still holding on?”

I exhaled shakily. “I’m just… waiting for the right moment.”

Jamie and Sungkyung exchanged glances, their worry evident.

A beat of silence passed before they pulled me into a tight hug.

“We’ll always be here for you,” they whispered.

I shut my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat.

If only they knew that letting go felt just as terrifying as staying.

—

Sunday evening.

I stood outside the café near our meeting spot, my overnight bag slung over my shoulder, waiting.

7:00 PM.

7:30 PM.

8:15 PM.

Cold air brushed against my skin as I scrolled through my phone, rereading Jungkook’s last text from Friday.

“I’ll fetch you on Sunday. I PROMISE.”

I scoffed bitterly. Of course.

Jamie’s name popped up on my screen.

Jamie: Want me to take you home?

I stared at the message for a long time before replying.

Me: No, I got it. Thanks.

Dragging my bag behind me, I hailed a cab and made my way home.

—

The apartment reeked of smoke, alcohol, and something even heavier. The sound of laughter and music pulsed through the walls.

I stepped inside, my stomach dropping at the sight before me.

Jungkook was sprawled across the couch, his long hair messy, his tattooed arm draped over a half-naked girl sitting on his lap. His lips were slightly parted, pupils blown wide as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. A mirror with white powder sat on the coffee table beside empty bottles of whiskey.

His gang members lounged around, girls draped over them like accessories, lost in their own intoxication.

It was chaotic. It was filthy.

It was everything I had been trying to ignore.

My throat tightened, but I refused to make a sound.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered lazily towards me. For a split second, his expression faltered—just for a second—before he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Ah, shit…” he muttered, rubbing his face with one hand. “I forgot, didn’t I?”

A girl whispered something in his ear, giggling as she ran her fingers down his chest. He didn’t push her away.

I clenched my fists.

I wasn’t even surprised.

I turned on my heel and walked straight to our bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I wouldn’t cry. Not this time.

I was just… tired.

So, so tired.

Author’s POV

Morning came, and Jungkook woke up with a pounding headache. His mouth was dry, his body heavy from the lingering effects of last night’s mess.

With a groggy groan, he rubbed his face, only to realize—something was off.

The bed beside him was cold.

His heart clenched as he turned his head.

No Y/n.

Panic surged through his veins. He shoved the blankets off and stumbled toward their wardrobe, yanking the doors open.

Her stuff was still there.

He let out a shaky breath, gripping his hair in frustration as flashes of last night hit him like a cruel movie reel. The powder. The drinks. The girls.

And Y/n.

Standing there. Watching him. Saying nothing, but saying everything.

The bathroom door clicked open, and he turned immediately.

Y/n stepped out, hair damp, her oversized shirt hanging loosely over her frame. But what caught Jungkook’s attention wasn’t her silence—it was her eyes.

Red. Swollen.

She had cried.

And he was the reason why.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, stepping toward her.

She didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him.

She just walked to the closet, pulling out a fresh pair of scrubs, acting as if he wasn’t there.

The coldness cut deeper than any words.

“Y/n…” He swallowed hard, desperate now. “Please. Just talk to me.”

Nothing.

She grabbed her bag, throwing in a few things, her movements stiff—controlled, like she was forcing herself to hold it together.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, his frustration bubbling over. “Damn it, can you just say something?!”

Y/n froze.

Slowly, she turned to him, eyes finally locking onto his. And when she spoke, her voice was eerily calm.

“You want me to talk, Jungkook?” she said, tilting her head. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Jungkook felt his chest tighten.

“Let’s talk about how you forgot about me again,” she continued, stepping closer. “Let’s talk about how I had to take a cab home alone after waiting for you like an idiot.”

His jaw clenched. “Y/n, I didn’t mean to—”

“You never mean to, Jungkook!” she snapped, voice finally breaking. “But you always do! And I keep forgiving you like a fool!”

Jungkook reached for her, but she stepped back.

“You don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t understand!” She let out a bitter laugh, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I love you, Jungkook. But loving you is killing me.”

Silence.

A flicker of pain crossed his face. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to break something—not at her, never at her—but at himself. At the mess he had become.

“I’m trying,” he muttered, voice strained.

Y/n scoffed. “No, you’re not. You just say that every time you mess up so I won’t leave.”

Jungkook’s throat tightened. He couldn’t deny it.

“I keep waiting,” she whispered, voice trembling now. “Waiting for you to change. Waiting for you to put me first. But I’m always second to the drugs. To the alcohol. To this life you promised you’d leave behind.”

Jungkook inhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “Y/n, I—”

“Save it,” she cut him off.

She was done listening.

Jungkook stood there, fists clenched at his sides. He looked at her—really looked at her.

And for the first time… he saw it.

She wasn’t just mad.

She was tired.

Defeated.

The girl who used to look at him like he was her whole world… now looked at him like he was breaking it.

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat, voice barely above a whisper.

“…Are you leaving?”

Y/n opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

And that hesitation—that split second of uncertainty—made his chest ache.

Because maybe she wasn’t ready to leave.

But she wasn’t sure if she could stay either.

Author’s POV

Silence hung heavy between them, thick with unsaid words and broken promises.

Then, Jungkook moved.

Before Y/n could step away, his arms wrapped around her—tight, desperate, pleading. His face buried into her shoulder as his grip trembled.

“Please,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Don’t go.”

Y/n’s breath hitched.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight the way her heart clenched. She tried to push him away, hands pressing against his chest, but he only held on tighter.

“Jungkook…” she choked out.

“Just… just let me hold you,” he begged, his voice thick with emotion. “Just for a second.”

Her resolve wavered.

He smelled like a mix of alcohol and cigarettes, but beneath it—beneath all the things she hated—was the scent of the man she once fell so deeply in love with.

She felt his body shaking. His breaths uneven. And then—

A tear fell onto her skin.

Jungkook was crying.

Her chest tightened as he slowly sank to the floor, pulling her down with him.

They sat there, tangled in each other, knees touching, foreheads pressed together as silent tears slipped down their faces.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispered, voice raw. “I don’t know how to be better, but I swear to God, I— I love you.”

Y/n sucked in a shaky breath, blinking away her own tears.

“I know,” she murmured. “But love isn’t enough anymore, Jungkook.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as his fingers clung to the fabric of her shirt like she would disappear if he let go.

“I can’t lose you,” he croaked.

Y/n’s bottom lip quivered. “Then why do you keep pushing me away?”

Jungkook had no answer.

So he just held her.

Held her like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

And for a moment, just a moment, Y/n let him.

Because no matter how much pain he caused—

Letting go still felt impossible.

Y/n’s sobs broke the silence, her body shaking as she finally let the pain consume her.

“I can’t do this anymore, Kook,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook stiffened. His heart clenched so painfully it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Please don’t say that,” he sniffled, his arms tightening around her like she would slip away if he loosened his grip. “Please, baby, don’t.”

But Y/n shook her head, her tears soaking the fabric of his shirt.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered, voice trembling. “I love you so much that it hurts, Jungkook. And the worst part?” She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her lips quivering. “I don’t think you’ll ever stop hurting me.”

Jungkook’s chest ached. His hands found her face, thumbs brushing against her damp cheeks.

“I’ll change,” he swore, his voice desperate. “I promise—just give me one more chance. Just one more, baby, please.”

Y/n let out a bitter laugh through her tears.

“You always do,” she murmured. “You always promise.”

Her breath hitched as she clenched her fists.

“But I end up hurting every time.”

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath, his hands falling away.

His throat tightened, eyes burning as her words sank in like a blade to his chest.

He wanted to argue. To tell her she was wrong. That this time would be different.

But how could he?

When she was right?

Jungkook reached for her again, fingers ghosting over her wrist, but she pulled away.

And that simple movement—so small, yet so final—broke something deep inside him.

“Y/n…” his voice cracked.

But she was already standing up.

Already walking away.

And for the first time—

Jungkook felt what it was like to truly lose her.

Jungkook’s grip loosened.

For the first time, he truly felt it—the weight of his mistakes.

Y/n stood up, her legs weak beneath her, wiping at her swollen eyes. She didn’t say another word, just walked to the bed and lay down, her back turned to him.

Jungkook hesitated before following, his heart hammering in his chest.

He knelt beside the bed, his vision blurred with tears as he looked at her. The woman he loved more than anything—lying there, silent, distant.

His chest ached.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I’ll change. I swear.”

Y/n didn’t react. She just kept staring blankly at the wall, tears silently slipping from the corner of her eyes.

“I’m so tired,” she murmured.

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat. He reached for her hand, but she didn’t hold him back.

The room fell into suffocating silence.

Hours passed. Evening fell.

Jungkook had eventually drifted off to sleep, his arms wrapped around her leg, holding onto her like a lost child. His breaths were uneven, as if even in sleep, he was afraid.

Y/n, however, stayed awake.

Her fingers lightly combed through his long, dark hair one last time, watching how peaceful he looked—how human he looked when he wasn’t drowning in alcohol, drugs, and violence.

Carefully, she shifted, easing his head onto a pillow. Jungkook stirred but didn’t wake.

She wiped her face and stood.

Then, with quiet, deliberate movements, she packed her things.

Her hands trembled as she folded the clothes he had once helped her pick out. As she placed the small gifts he had given her into her bag. As she looked around the room—their room—one last time.

Finally, she turned back to the bed.

Jungkook’s brows were furrowed, as if he could sense something was wrong even in sleep. His fingers twitched, reaching for someone who was no longer there.

Y/n felt her throat tighten.

She stepped closer, crouching beside him.

She hesitated—just for a second—before pressing the softest kiss to his temple.

“I love you, Kook,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she lingered, memorizing the way he looked.

Then, with a shaky breath, she turned away.

And left.

Jungkook’s POV

His hands trembled as he gripped his hair, his breaths ragged and uneven. His head pounded, but nothing—nothing—hurt more than the emptiness in his chest.

"Hyung… I messed up," he choked out, voice raw with desperation.

Kim Namjoon sat beside him on the couch, his expensive cologne mixing with the thick scent of whiskey and regret that clung to the air. He exhaled slowly, swirling the dark liquor in his glass.

Jungkook's fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"It was because of that fucking woman," he spat, venom lacing his words. His jaw tightened, rage flickering behind his glassy eyes. “The bitch that was beside me that night!”

Kim Seokjin raised a brow from across the room, adjusting the sleeve of his luxurious suit. “And whose fault was that?” he asked, though his tone was indifferent, almost amused.

Jungkook’s nails dug into his palms. “If she hadn’t fucking been there, Y/n wouldn’t have left—”

“Oh, please,” Min Yoongi scoffed from the corner, his voice lazy as he tapped a cigarette against the edge of an ashtray. “You really think she left because of that girl? You’ve been screwing up for years, Kook. She was just looking for an excuse.”

Jungkook’s head snapped up, anger flashing in his bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t fucking care why she left,” he growled. “I want her back.”

A dark chuckle filled the room.

Jung Hoseok leaned back against the bar, pouring himself another drink. “So what, you’re gonna beg? Cry at her doorstep like some lovesick idiot?” He smirked. “Come on, man. You’re Jeon Jungkook.”

Park Jimin leaned forward, setting his drink down with a clink. “What exactly do you want to do, Kook?” he asked, his voice deceptively light.

Jungkook’s fingers twitched. His heart pounded in his chest.

“I want her back,” he repeated, but this time, there was something darker in his tone.

Taehyung, who had been silent until now, finally turned from the window. His sharp eyes gleamed under the dim chandelier lights.

“And what if she doesn’t want to come back?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

Silence filled the room.

Jungkook’s lips parted, but nothing came out.

The room was filled with men who didn’t believe in no. Men who built their lives by taking what they wanted—by force, if necessary.

Namjoon leaned forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

"Then make her."

The air in the room thickened, the words settling deep into Jungkook’s mind.

His heart pounded. His grip tightened.

A slow smirk ghosted across Jimin’s lips as he reached for his phone. “Say the word, Kook,” he murmured, “and we’ll bring her back to you.”

Jungkook exhaled shakily, his mind clouded with desperation and obsession.

He had already lost her once.

He wasn’t about to let it happen again.

Basement of the Jeon Estate – Private Island

"Please! I didn’t do anything!" The woman’s sobs echoed through the cold, dark basement, her voice hoarse from screaming. She was on her knees, wrists bound together, blood smeared on the side of her face.

Jungkook towered over her, his face devoid of emotion. His grip on the gun was steady, his breathing calm. He had done this a hundred times before.

Yet this time, his rage burned hotter than ever.

"You were the one who caused this," he muttered, voice low and menacing. His eyes darkened as he took a step closer.

"You slut!" he spat before pulling the trigger.

A deafening bang echoed through the basement. The woman’s body slumped to the floor, lifeless. Blood pooled beneath her, staining the concrete.

Jungkook exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he turned away from the corpse. His hand didn’t tremble. His heart didn’t race.

He felt nothing.

A slow, deliberate clap filled the room.

“Well done, son,” a deep voice spoke from behind him.

Jungkook didn’t even flinch.

Jeon Junhyuk, his father, stepped forward, pride gleaming in his sharp eyes. His suit was pristine, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back perfectly. He rested a firm hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you.” His lips curled into a smirk.

Jungkook didn’t reply. He just nodded once, slipping the gun back into his holster as they exited the dimly lit basement.

The Jeon Estate – Dining Hall

The scent of roasted meat, cigar smoke, and expensive whiskey filled the grand dining hall. Laughter erupted from the long mahogany table, surrounded by men in tailored suits—Korea’s most powerful businessmen, criminals who masked their dirty dealings behind legitimate empires.

Women in silk dresses sat on their laps, giggling, whispering sweet nothings to the men who could end lives with a single phone call.

As Jungkook and his father entered, conversations hushed momentarily before resuming.

“Ah, Jeon!” Kim Sik, Taehyung’s father, raised his glass in greeting. “Join us! Your son is becoming quite the man.”

Junhyuk chuckled, pulling out his chair at the head of the table. “That he is,” he agreed, sipping his whiskey.

A woman with dark red lipstick slinked toward Junhyuk, her hands ghosting over his shoulders. “Mr. Jeon,” she purred.

Jungkook barely paid her any attention. He sat beside his father, silent, as he stared blankly at the table.

“Son,” Junhyuk’s voice cut through the noise. “Why not have another woman? There are plenty left for you.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to his father’s, his grip tightening around the glass in his hand.

The other men nodded in agreement.

“Yes, Jungkook,” Kim Sik added. “Women in Ireland, Australia… anywhere you want.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his gaze dark and unreadable.

“I am a man who loves a woman, Father,” he said, his voice steady but laced with an edge of finality.

The table quieted slightly, eyes turning toward him in curiosity.

Jungkook exhaled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

“If I could have a family…” His voice softened for a moment. “It would only be with her.”

And for the first time in a long time, Jeon Jungkook felt something.

Regret.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, the glow of the chandelier casting sharp shadows across his face. His fingers tapped against the rim of his glass, mind lost in thoughts of her.

He had always been selfish. He had always taken what he wanted.

And right now, he wanted her back.

“So,” a deep voice interrupted his thoughts.

Jung Kyuseok, Hoseok’s father, set his glass down with a soft clink, eyeing Jungkook curiously. “What’s your plan?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe we could help.”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, a ghost of a smirk forming.

“I’ll give her time,” he murmured, voice low. “I’ll make myself worthy of her.”

Some of the men scoffed. Others chuckled.

“Worthy?” Seokjin’s father raised an amused brow. “That’s a new one. Since when does a Jeon earn something instead of taking it?”

Jungkook’s fingers stilled against the glass.

“I will take her,” he said darkly, his voice laced with something far more dangerous. He looked up, his gaze cold, predatory.

“As soon as I’m ready.”

The meaning behind his words was clear.

The table fell silent for a moment before Junhyuk chuckled, swirling his whiskey lazily.

“That’s my boy.”

4 Months After the Breakup

Y/n’s POV

I curled up on the small couch, a warm cup of tea in my hands, as the soft hum of the city outside filled the quiet space of my apartment.

My apartment.

The thought still felt foreign. This place, once just an old memory of my grandmother, had now become my safe haven. It smelled of fresh linen and vanilla candles—nothing like the suffocating scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke that used to cling to my clothes.

I glanced around, taking in the cozy mess of my books stacked on the coffee table, the soft knitted blanket draped over the armrest. It was far from luxury, far from the extravagant penthouse I once shared with him—but it was mine.

For months, I thought I needed him.

For months, I convinced myself that without Jeon Jungkook, I would crumble. That my world would shatter beyond repair.

But here I was. Breathing. Living. Surviving.

And then it hit me—I can really live without him.

I wasn’t broken. I was just attached.

I exhaled, a small, almost bitter smile forming on my lips. Maybe this was always meant to happen. Maybe we were never made for each other, just two souls colliding at the wrong time, mistaking chaos for love.

And maybe, just maybe, letting go was the bravest thing I ever did.

The rhythmic sound of fists slamming against the heavy bag echoed through the private gym. Jungkook's muscles tensed with each strike, sweat dripping down his sculpted frame, his breath steady but heavy. He had been here for months—isolated, disciplined, clean.

No smoking. No drinking. No drugs. No women.

Just training, rebuilding, and regaining control.

“Son, walk with me,” a deep voice broke through the silence.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. His hands moved with practiced ease as he untied the wraps around his knuckles, his calloused fingers flexing as if ready to fight the ghosts in his mind.

He followed his father out of the training hall, stepping onto the grand garden path. The moon cast a silver glow over the vast estate, the air crisp with the scent of the ocean. Flowers of every color bloomed around them, swaying gently with the wind.

“These were your mother’s favorites,” Junhyuk murmured, his gaze softening as he reached out to touch a delicate white lily.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched at the mention of her. His mother—the only person who had ever taught him love without conditions.

Junhyuk turned to face him, his expression shifting back to its usual steel.

“This fortress is yours, son,” he stated, his voice laced with finality. “Continue the legacy that your mother and I started.”

Jungkook remained silent, staring at the empire laid before him.

Power. Wealth. Control.

It was all his for the taking.

Y/n’s POV

Months passed in a blur of textbooks, late-night study sessions, and the unrelenting pressure of med school. The anxiety and sleepless nights felt endless, but every moment was worth it. And today—today—it all came to fruition.

I stood at the front of the auditorium, my cap and gown draped over my shoulders, the sea of faces blurring in front of me. My friends, Jamie and Sungkyung, stood beside me, their smiles wide and bright. We had made it.

“I can’t believe we’re actually done,” Sungkyung whispered, squeezing my arm. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“I know,” I replied, my voice cracking slightly. “It feels unreal.”

Jamie grinned, her eyes playful as always, but there was an undeniable softness to her expression. “You did it, Y/n. You actually survived.”

We all laughed, the weight of the past few years finally lifting.

As the ceremony continued, I couldn’t help but think back on everything I’d been through—the highs, the lows, and everything in between. There was a part of me that had once thought I couldn’t do it, that I wasn’t strong enough. But I was. I had proved that to myself.

Graduating wasn’t just about the degree; it was about the journey. It was about finding strength in moments of vulnerability, realizing that no matter how hard it got, I could always stand back up.

“Look at you, all grown up,” Jamie said, nudging me. “Soon, you’ll be the one saving lives.”

“Maybe,” I chuckled, but my heart swelled with pride.

Sungkyung wrapped her arms around me. “You’ve come a long way, Y/n. I’m so proud of you.”

I smiled, feeling a weight lift from my chest. For the first time in a long while, I felt truly content.

Author’s POV

Two years had passed.

Y/n had moved on, embracing the life she had built for herself. She had no time for the ghosts of the past, no time to dwell on what might have been.

She was thriving.

Working as a doctor at a private hospital, she had made a name for herself—though still considered a newbie, she carried herself with confidence. Every day was an opportunity to prove that she could stand tall on her own, no longer tied to a world of chaos and heartache.

Tonight, as the amber glow of streetlights reflected off the pavement, Y/n pulled into the parking lot of her small, cozy apartment. The engine of her modest car hummed as she cut it off, the silence of the late evening settling around her. She wasn’t driving some sleek, expensive car, but the one she had now was hers.

She stepped out, locking the car, and grabbed the grocery bags from the passenger seat. They were a mix of essentials—nothing glamorous, just the basics after a long shift. Her feet carried her toward the entrance of the building when a familiar voice called out from behind her.

“Hey, Dr. Y/L/N!”

Y/n turned to find her neighbor, Suxi, standing by her door with a friendly smile on her face.

“Hey, Suxi,” Y/n greeted her with a tired but warm smile, her eyes still holding that glimmer of kindness that never seemed to fade.

Suxi took a moment to look at Y/n, her gaze thoughtful. “Long shift, huh?” she asked, noticing the exhaustion in her eyes.

Y/n nodded, adjusting the grocery bags in her hands. “Yeah, but it’s worth it. One step closer to where I want to be.”

Suxi chuckled. “I see that. You’re always hustling. You know, you’re really something, Y/n. I admire you.”

Y/n paused for a moment, looking up at the stars overhead. “Thanks, Suxi. It hasn’t been easy, but I think it’s starting to feel like it’s all coming together.”

“Good,” Suxi said with a smile, “You deserve it.”

The exchange was simple, but there was something about the moment that made Y/n reflect. Two years had gone by, and she was stronger than she had ever been. She had rebuilt herself—piece by piece, day by day.

But somewhere, deep down, she couldn’t shake the lingering question: What about him?

Jungkook’s days had been spent in a haze of cold isolation, but he had not forgotten. Even in the silence of his private island retreat, his mind often wandered back to her.

She had moved on.

He had seen her, unknowingly, through the lens of others—his men. He wasn’t foolish enough to approach her directly. Not yet. But he needed to know. He needed to see for himself how she was living, whether she was truly gone from his life or whether some part of her still lingered.

The men were discreet, of course.

Their orders were clear:

Follow her. Watch her.

They had been tailing her for weeks now, their presence so subtle she wouldn’t even know she was being watched. Jungkook sat in the shadowed confines of a luxury car parked far enough down the street, watching her apartment from behind tinted windows. A man in a dark suit, sitting beside him, leaned forward and spoke in a low tone.

“She just left her building, sir. Heading to the grocery store.”

Jungkook nodded once, his eyes narrowing. His fingers clenched into a fist on his lap.

“Good,” he muttered. “Keep watching.”

His men followed her every move—tracking her comings and goings, making sure nothing went unnoticed. Y/n’s world, her quiet life, was being slowly cataloged. Every smile exchanged with neighbors, every simple errand completed, and every peaceful moment she thought was hers—he saw it all.

From the rearview mirror, Jungkook’s reflection stared back at him, cold and distant.

It was maddening, the way he couldn’t let go, even as she moved forward, living her life without him.

A part of him was still haunted by her absence, consumed by the idea of losing her.

“Make sure she’s safe,” he ordered quietly, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him. “No one gets too close.”

The men nodded in silence, as they continued their watch.

Y/n’s feet echoed softly against the hallway floor as she walked toward her apartment door, the weight of the grocery bags pulling at her arms. The world around her seemed peaceful, as it always did after a long shift. Her neighbors had already retired for the night, and the usual hum of city life had quieted down.

But tonight, something felt different—like a quiet tension in the air she couldn’t quite place.

As she approached her door, she heard footsteps behind her—slow, deliberate, too steady to be a casual passerby.

Before she could react, strong arms grabbed her from behind. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she struggled against their hold, her grocery bags slipping from her grip. She spun around, but the cold steel of a gun pressed to her side froze her in place.

“Don’t scream,” one of the men warned, his voice low and menacing.

Y/n’s heart hammered in her chest, panic flooding her system. She couldn’t even scream if she wanted to—the threat of the gun was too real. She instinctively reached for her phone, but another man grabbed her wrist, twisting it painfully.

“What the hell do you want?” she demanded, her voice trembling but defiant.

“We’re not here for you to talk, Dr. Y/L/N,” another man said, his grip tightening.

They started to drag her toward the elevator, her feet stumbling as she struggled to break free. The cold, silent presence of the men only intensified her fear. She recognized their faces—sharp suits, dark expressions—no one she knew, but they had the look of people who didn’t care if they were noticed.

They shoved her into the elevator, one of the men pressing the button for the ground floor. Y/n’s breath came in shallow gasps, her mind racing for an escape, for anything she could do to get out of this. She barely registered the elevator descending—her focus was on the sharp edge of the barrel against her side, the feeling of helplessness beginning to drown her.

When the elevator doors opened, they pulled her out into the underground garage, where a black van was waiting. The men shoved her into the back with frightening ease, slamming the door behind her.

The moment she landed in the cold, dark interior, the door to the front of the van opened, and a figure stepped inside—Jungkook.

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with shock.

“You...” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Jungkook stood in front of her, looking more like a stranger than the man she once loved. His hair was a little longer, his face harder, the darkness in his eyes unmistakable. He looked almost... broken.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice rough, like he wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry.”

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. “What have you done?” she managed to choke out, the betrayal and fear flooding her in equal measure.

Jungkook stepped forward, his face serious, but his hands trembled as he reached for her.

“I had to. I... I didn’t know how to get you back, but I’m not letting you go again.”

The van rumbled down the road as Y/n sat there, her heart racing in her chest. Jungkook’s presence in the van made everything feel so much heavier. His face was set in a grim expression, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. He hadn’t said much since she had seen him, and the weight of silence between them was suffocating.

She pulled herself away from him, trying to steady her breathing, but the panic only grew.

“You don’t have to do this,” Y/n said, her voice shaking but firm. “Let me go. Please, Jungkook.”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze cold, as though he were still wrestling with his own emotions.

Before she could say anything else, one of the men in the back of the van moved toward her. He was tall, wearing a black suit, his expression blank. He pulled out a small syringe from his pocket and showed it to her, the liquid inside swirling ominously under the dim lights of the van.

“No,” Y/n whispered, her voice low and panicked. “Please—what are you doing?”

The man didn’t answer, his face stone-cold. He grabbed her arm roughly, and before she could even try to pull away, the needle pierced her skin.

The cold sting of the injection spread through her veins, and a strange dizziness washed over her immediately. Her body felt heavy, like the weight of the world had suddenly shifted to her shoulders.

“No... no, please...” Y/n’s words slurred as she fought against the effects of the sedative. Her mind was starting to fog over, the world around her blurring. She tried to push herself up, to get away, but the strength to move was slipping away.

Jungkook’s eyes locked onto hers, a faint, almost sorrowful look in his gaze.

“I didn’t want to do this, but you left me no choice.” His voice was barely a whisper, and it hurt more than the physical pain.

She opened her mouth to speak, to plead with him one last time, but her vision swam, her head growing heavier by the second.

“I’m sorry, Y/n…” Jungkook’s voice was the last thing she heard before everything went dark.

Her body slumped, her head falling against the cold, hard surface of the van as the sedative pulled her into an unconscious haze.

Author’s POV

The low hum of the boat’s engine was the only sound filling the thick silence of the night. Y/n was completely unconscious, her body slumped in the back of the van, but her mind was still lingering somewhere in the darkness. The sedative had done its job, but it didn’t erase her awareness—only dulled it.

She could hear the men talking, their voices muffled but distinct in the space around her.

“What are we going to do with her, boss?” one of the men asked, his tone filled with cold curiosity.

Jungkook’s voice, steady and commanding, cut through the air.

“Take her to the room,” he ordered, his words deliberate, like each one was weighed with a heavy, irreversible finality.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat despite the fog in her mind. The room? She didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend what they meant.

Her head felt heavy, like it was being pulled underwater, but she could still hear them clearly.

“The room?” the man asked again, his voice betraying some uncertainty.

Jungkook didn’t falter. “Yes, the lab. The doctor that Kim Sik hired will be there, and she’ll do her part.”

Y/n’s body twitched involuntarily as her heart pounded against her ribcage. Lab? She could barely process the words as they hit her like a wave. What were they planning to do with her? The dread crept in, but her body refused to respond—still too sedated to fight, too weak to even move.

Jungkook’s voice softened just slightly, as if trying to reassure her despite the cold command in his previous words.

“You’ll be okay, baby,” he said, his words barely a whisper in the room. The tone was strangely gentle, like he was speaking to the woman he loved and not the person he had just dragged into this terrifying reality. “You’ll wake up, and everything will fall into place.”

But his words didn’t bring comfort. They only deepened the pit of fear that had already started forming in her chest.

Y/n’s eyelids fluttered, a half-conscious attempt to wake up, but the sedative still held a firm grip on her senses. Her mind raced, but her body was far too heavy to move. She felt as if she were sinking deeper into the darkness with each passing second.

Author’s POV

Y/n jolted awake, gasping for air as she clutched her stomach. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths shallow and erratic. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus on her surroundings. She was in their bed, the familiar sheets surrounding her. The nightmare she had just woken from felt so vivid, so real. She could still feel the coldness of the laboratory bed, her clothes being ripped away, and the excruciating numbness spreading across her body. But now... now she was safe.

She touched her stomach instinctively, but when her fingers brushed over her skin, she froze. Her fingers curled around a cool metal band—a wedding ring. Jungkook.

Her eyes widened as the confusion washed over her. The dream, the nightmare, was so real, so terrifying. But... where was the baby?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Jungkook’s voice pulled her from her racing thoughts. His voice was raspy, like he had just woken up as well, though his tone was laced with concern. He reached for her gently, brushing her hair back as she sat up on the bed. “Come back to sleep, babe,” he urged softly.

Y/n blinked, still trying to piece everything together. “I… I thought…” She trailed off, shaking her head as her confusion only deepened.

The morning light crept into their room, but Y/n still felt unsettled, as if the fog of the nightmare was clinging to her, threatening to pull her under once again.

She stumbled out of bed, the dizziness hitting her like a wave. The nausea crept up in her stomach before she even made it to the bathroom. She barely managed to make it to the sink before she bent over, vomiting heavily.

Jungkook was quick to follow, his hands gentle as he held her hair back, his other hand resting on her back as he murmured softly.

“Baby, let’s get you checked out, babe,” he said, his voice filled with concern. There was an underlying tension in it, but it wasn’t the same coldness she had grown used to.

Y/n wiped her mouth, the taste lingering bitterly. “Yeah, I think so too... I’ve been dreaming weirdly these past few weeks,” she admitted, her voice hoarse. The feeling of the nightmare still haunted her, and the confusion lingered like an unwelcome guest.

Jungkook’s expression was unreadable as he helped her back to their bed, though his eyes flickered with something she couldn’t quite place. He was trying to be supportive, but something about his demeanor made her feel like he was hiding something.

After a brief moment of silence, they were on their way to the hospital, the drive uneventful but tense.

Once they arrived, Y/n was led into a sterile examination room, the hospital’s cold air doing nothing to ease the chill she felt inside. The nurse led her inside, and she couldn’t help but blink in surprise when she saw the woman’s face. It was... Sungkyung.

For a brief moment, Y/n thought she was still in the dream. The nurse's face was the same, and the familiarity sent a shiver down her spine.

“Sungkyung?” Y/n asked in disbelief, but the nurse simply smiled warmly at her.

“Just call me Nurse Jung,” she said lightly, adjusting her clipboard.

The doctor came in shortly after, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat when she saw her. The doctor had the same features, the same aura. It was Jamie.

Jamie’s face looked as serious as ever, but Y/n could see a glimmer of recognition in her eyes.

“Y/n, we’ll take good care of you,” the doctor said, her voice calm but filled with concern. “I know you’re worried, but we’re going to run a few tests to make sure everything is okay.”

Y/n swallowed thickly, her mind still hazy from the nightmare. Tests? But what was she supposed to be worried about?

The doctor pulled out an ultrasound machine, and Y/n was too exhausted to protest. The cold gel hit her stomach, sending a wave of discomfort through her body. The monitor flickered to life, and her heart skipped a beat when the technician started moving the wand around.

Jamie, standing next to her, gave a soft, reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Y/n. We’ll see what’s going on in there.”

But when the screen lit up, Y/n’s entire world stopped. The small, flickering shape on the monitor was unmistakable. It was a baby.

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Am I...?”

“Yes,” Jamie said gently, nodding. “You’re pregnant, Y/n.”

A heavy silence filled the room. Y/n’s mind raced as her hand instinctively went to her stomach. The baby. The nightmare. She was pregnant.

But the question that filled her head was why? Why did she have no memory of this? What happened to her during the time she’d been missing? What was Jungkook hiding?

Tears filled her eyes as the truth sank in. She wasn’t just haunted by her nightmares—there was something much darker she had yet to understand.

Y/n’s heart was pounding in her chest, her hands shaking as she looked at the ultrasound screen. The small flickering shape of the baby—it was unmistakable. The words the doctor spoke barely registered in her mind, her breath caught in her throat as her world seemed to spin out of control.

“You’re pregnant, Y/n.”

The words echoed in her head like a haunting melody, but something deep inside her instinctively felt like there was more. The nightmare, the strange sensations, the growing sense of dread—it all made sense now, but it didn’t quite fit. How was she pregnant? What had happened during the time she couldn’t remember?

Jamie, still standing next to her, looked at her with concern, her gaze lingering on Y/n as she processed the news.

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n,” Jamie said softly, but her voice didn’t sound reassuring. It was filled with an unspoken worry, like there was something more hidden beneath the surface.

Y/n’s eyes darted between Jamie and the monitor. “How… How long have I been pregnant?”

The question hung in the air, and Jamie’s silence spoke volumes. She shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the nurse who stood in the corner of the room.

“I… I need to check something,” Jamie finally said, her voice quieter than before.

Before Y/n could ask anything further, Jamie stepped away, whispering something to the nurse who quickly left the room. The air felt thick with tension, and Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Suddenly, the door to the examination room creaked open again. A figure entered, standing still in the doorway for a moment.

Jungkook.

His eyes locked onto hers, and his face was unreadable. He stepped inside, his footsteps slow but deliberate. The cold, emotionless look in his eyes made Y/n’s chest tighten.

"Y/n..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the moment hanging between them.

“Jungkook…” Her voice cracked, too many questions swirling in her mind. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me I was pregnant?"

His eyes flickered with something unreadable, then a shadow passed over his face. He walked closer, his presence overpowering the room.

“Because I didn’t want you to know,” he said softly, the words sending a chill down her spine.

A silence settled between them, thick and suffocating. And just as Y/n opened her mouth to respond, she heard a soft knock on the door.

A voice from behind the door, low and authoritative, echoed through the room:

“Mr. Jeon... we have a problem.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes darted between Jungkook and the door. What could be more of a problem than this?

Jungkook’s expression turned cold, and he glanced back at the door. “Not now,” he muttered, but the voice on the other side persisted.

“It’s urgent, sir.”

Jungkook’s eyes met Y/n’s for a moment, his gaze darkening. The tension was palpable.

“Stay here,” he said to Y/n, his voice low, a command disguised as concern. But she could feel the weight of his words—there was something more behind them.

Before she could respond, he turned, walking swiftly toward the door.

“Wait, Jungkook, what’s going on? What’s happening?” Y/n called out, panic rising in her chest.

But Jungkook didn’t look back. As the door slammed shut behind him, Y/n was left alone in the room, her heart racing, her mind spinning.

The sound of muffled voices outside the door grew louder as she sat there, alone with her thoughts. She had no idea what was happening, what Jungkook had been hiding from her all this time.

And then, suddenly, a soft beep filled the room—an ominous sound coming from the monitor beside her.

She looked at the screen, her eyes widening as the numbers on the machine flickered and changed.

It wasn’t just her pregnancy that was a mystery anymore.

It was everything.

[mylittleredgirl]

i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!

i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.

[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit] [edit: part ii now in the reblogs!]

this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!

she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.

from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]

really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"

it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.

it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.

from season 4 "the interview":

whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.

if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.

this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:

and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!

that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.

and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.

to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.

and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.

and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…

i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)

from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.

i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.

has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

[reblog with the rest of it is here!]

[thrfted]

꩜ DATING MR. SILVAIR .ᐟ

Mix of other + our world headcanons (Italics is in the other world’s language!)

For the anon who requested! Vry glad you liked Mr. Crawling’s, thanks for the trust w Silvair :D Feel like I see him a lot.. nicer..? than most hcs I’ve seen and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad for mebjfhdsfhjd

(seen in ending 3) Mr. Silvair loves studying and learning about you, but he still feels bad if you seem upset or get hurt. If or when he doesn’t understand why you’re upset, he’ll ask what he did and apologize. He values learning about these differences in emotions, communication, perspective, etc.

He isn’t naturally physically affectionate, but he doesn’t refuse your requests or affection! He at least pats your head or back, not letting go until you do (unless he’s got things to do). Initially confused, he admits it feels nice when you hug him and that he’s started looking forward to (or at least expecting) it.

^ You can ask him for a forehead kiss or two, even if he doesn’t get why. He understands that it makes you happy and it isn’t like it’s doing him any harm anyway!  You’ll probably have to show him what a kiss is though. Will he find it amusing if you become flustered kissing him first? Say “Cute”? Probably.

You and Mr. Chopped become close friends too, sometimes (playfully) gossiping to each other about Mr. Silvair while he’s off doing experiments. There’s a few times Mr. Silvair seems to get jealous by the amount of time you guys spend together, especially if he catches you laughing at Mr. Chopped’s antics. He takes initiative and tries to have one-on-one time with you after that.

Maybe he does tie his hair back and we don’t know it, but I think he’d appreciate the idea if you brought it up! Sometimes it’s a half-up look, a simple ponytail, or you braid it back if you want. As long as it’s out of his face and not difficult to take out, he doesn’t mind.

If you enjoy/are comfortable with it, he might ask for your help with experiments, or… you? Your blood sometimes, at least. But he respects you if you’d rather stay away, even if he’s disappointed for a while.

Both of you spend quite a bit of time walking and talking while trying to find a new room when need be. You start to teach him your language, and he uses a few words and phrases when possible.

Mr. Silvair is more focused on experiments rather than interior decoration. But whether you ask to decorate his place in the other world or show him your home in ours, he grows a fondness for your taste. He even brings home things that remind him of you to see if you'll enjoy them.

^ In the same branch, if you bring something you think he’ll like, he takes good care of it, making sure its always somewhere safe!

Of course, he can’t really do the same studies in our world, or at least get his subjects in the same way. Be warned that he may or may not want to go out and find test subjects… somewhere…?

But on the bright side, it’s literally a whole new world! With so much available to him, at least he has other ways to learn than capturing and cutting things or people up.

Mr. Silvair as a good cook / kitchen helper? Really good at cutting up food, even if he doesn’t want to eat it.

In general he’s pretty good around the house! He remembers chores and keeps his space tidy for both your sakes, helping out wherever he can.

His hair is already pretty, but imagine how nice it’d look and feel after a shower! You keep running your fingers through his hair and he tilts his head. “You like? Pretty?” You nod and ask “Me pretty?” and Mr. Silvair smiles. “Pretty.” (Subconsciously, he starts paying closer attention to your hair or appearance, and how you take care of yourself.)

^ He isn’t particular about scents (other than preferring subtler ones) and will likely use whatever you use unless asked otherwise. Don’t expect him to pick up a hair or skincare routine though.

The first few days especially, Mr. Silvair is so focused on seeing and learning as much as possible, that he’ll likely be up late. He doesn’t really get the whole day and night thing, so you have to tell him that rest is good, and that you’re worried for him. “You worried?” “Yes. We rest.” “...Okay.”

His understanding of love is still different from yours, but (I think) he does care about you, and loves you in his own way! He makes sure you’re safe, helps you when you’re injured, and enjoys spending time with you. I’m not sure if he’d say “I love you” (since he doesn’t comprehend what that really means) but he’d at least reassure you that he likes you and finds you interesting :3

^ Though I’ll say if you’re a romance genre fan in our world, he picks up on the usage of “I love you” in media and if it matches his emotions, he might try it out and see how you react