#I don't mean to be rude but this feels really mean | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joemama-2 · 1 day ago

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velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 7.4k (shorter chap woop) tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

Year: Early 2018

He hasn’t been answering your phone calls. Or your texts. A growing sense of anxiety and worry forms in your gut. You've trained yourself to push down the more insidious thoughts that threaten your already deteriorating relationship. It’s been a long day for you. From work, to your annoying mother, and now to your M.I.A boyfriend. You wanted to relax at home with a movie and soothing music, maybe even food. However, it’s been hard to eat for the past few weeks.

The last place you wanted to be was at some house party with snobby people who probably never have realized the true meaning of a dollar. The music is loud and the blue lights do nothing but further annoy you, reminding you of just how much you hate parties. Pushing through the throngs of people, either too drunk to high to give your rudeness a huff.

It’s not hard to spot him, but the sight makes you dig your nails into your palms. Feeling bile rise in your throat when a girl—one you’ve never seen before—is getting too close and personal with your man. And worst of all? He’s not even pushing her away. He’s obviously drunk. Still, you assumed he would have that much decency to push back flirting advances from random girls. He always did.

But things have been changing recently, slowly but surely. Ever since that happened.

Your feet work quickly, forcing yourself to stay determined and not break down and cry right now. You’ve been doing too much of that. “Satoru.” You call out, voice loud and firm enough that he swivels his head to meet your eyes on just the first try. The girl does so also, head tilting in a scrutinizing way that you hate. “Are you drunk?”

The tint on his cheeks is proof enough. But so is his lazy grin. “What do you think?”

The girl giggles, leaning into your boyfriend’s arm. Watching her do so sends a wave of fury down your spine. You would have stepped in if it weren’t for Satoru finally being a decent man and pulling away from her. “Sorry, you gotta go.”

“Excuse me?” The girl huffs, scowling in disgust. “For what? I thought we were having a good time.”

So, they were together the whole night, huh? They probably would have stayed together if you didn’t make an appearance. What if they would have taken things further? What if Satoru imitated something? You can already feel the familiar tingle at the back of your throat, turning around and heading back for the door. He follows, grabbing your arm in an attempt to stop you. “Y/N—“

“Don’t.” You grit, yanking your arm away and pushing your way back out to the front of the large house, ignoring some of a drunken couple’s protests as you ruin their make-out session. When you make your way onto the sidewalk, you feel a more insistent tug at your wrist that causes you to face him fully. Meeting his glazed-over eyes with your own teary pair, biting down on your quivering lip. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? Why are you ignoring me?”

He sighs, running a hand down his face when he lets go of you. “I’m not ignoring you, Y/N. I’m sorry, I should have told you I’d be out. But it was last minute.”

A scoff falls from your lips. “Last minute, huh? Is that what you call it? Hanging around some random girl and acting like you don’t have a worried girlfriend waiting for you?”

“Y/N—“

“Did you cheat on me?” You ask, voice cracking. Your tears now flow freely down your face, eyes red. The expression you adorn does nothing but break his heart. He hates seeing you cry, he always has. And the small, sober part of him is cursing at himself for being such a jackass tonight. But the dominant, drunk side wants no part of an argument tonight.

“No, I didn’t. I’d never.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N.”

“I want you to be a good boyfriend for once!” You croak out, pushing him back by his shoulders. “Y-you know what I’m going through, you know how hard it’s been. And what do you do? You go out and party, you don’t tell me, and I find some random girl all up on you. And then you smiled like it was funny. D-do you know how much you’re hurting me even more, Satoru?” The trembling of your voice pokes at his heartstrings.

Satoru stares at you, his expression faltering. For a moment, you think you see guilt flicker across his face, but it’s quickly replaced by something colder—defensiveness. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, alright? I was just...blowing off steam.”

“Blowing off steam?” you repeat, your voice rising as fresh anger bubbles in your chest. “You call this blowing off steam? Ignoring me? Letting some girl throw herself all over you? You’re unbelievable.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his movements. “What do you want me to do, Y/N? Stay at home and sulk all the time? I can’t—” He stops himself, biting his lip, but you know what he was going to say.

“You can’t what, Satoru?” Your voice cracks again, but this time it’s laced with more rage than sorrow. “You can’t deal with me? With everything I’m going through? You promised you’d be there for me. You said we’d get through this together.”

“I am here for you!” he snaps, but the slight slur in his voice takes the edge off his words. “But you’re acting like I can’t breathe without you questioning every little thing I do. I’ve been going through shit too, Y/N.”

You suck in a shaky breath. “That’s not fair,” you whisper, your fists clenching at your sides. “You know it’s not. If I didn’t care—if I didn’t love you—I wouldn’t be here, trying to fix this.”

He exhales heavily, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t cheat on you, Y/N. I swear I didn’t. But I—” He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t know how to handle all of this, okay? It’s a lot.”

Your breath hitches, his words cut deeper than he probably intended. “You think this isn’t a lot for me too?” you ask, your voice trembling. “I’ve been trying so hard, Satoru. To hold on. To be strong. For both of us. But you’re slipping away, and I don’t know how to bring you back. I know how to handle things just as much as you do.”

He looks up then, his blue eyes clearer now, filled with something that looks almost like regret. For a brief second, you think he might apologize—might say the words you so desperately need to hear. But instead, he shakes his head and says, “Maybe we just need some space.”

The world tilts beneath you. His words echo in your mind, louder than the music still blaring from the house behind you. “Space?” you repeat, barely able to say the word. “You want to take a break?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “I just...I think we’re both hurting each other more than we’re helping.”

You laugh bitterly, wiping at the tears streaming down your face. “No, Satoru. You’re hurting me. You’re the one who stopped trying. You’re the one who’s giving up.” He flinches at your words, but he doesn’t argue. And somehow, that hurts even more. You shake your head, stepping back from him. “If space is what you want, then fine. But don’t expect me to be here waiting when you figure yourself out.”

You turn and walk away, your heart shattering with every step. This isn’t how you imagined the night would go. It isn’t how you imagined your relationship would go. But as you leave him standing there on the sidewalk, you can’t help but wonder if this was inevitable all along.

The same song begins to play. Because soon, his arms are wrapping around you before you even know it, shoving his face into the side of your neck. “No, no, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m drunk, okay? Please don’t leave, please. L-let’s just go home, my parents aren’t there. Please, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

And like a broken record, you give in. Because the broken part of you still craves him. His touch, his comforting hugs, his words. His everything. You feel like a puzzle with pieces too big or small to fit, some pieces lost. But with Satoru, he makes them fit. He finds those pieces of you; the ones you can’t find yourself. In a way, you know things are failing and falling apart.

But you’re laying back in his bed, feeling the constant vibration of your phone. Texts from your mother and you have no doubt she’s blowing up your phone about the way you snuck out and demanding to know where you are. It’s interesting, you’re twenty-one but she treats you like a kid. All because you still live with her.

Your heart feels heavy, your stomach twisting with nausea and you’re not even the drunk one. His hands hold your teary cheeks, meeting your gaze with watery ones of his own. Combined tears wet his pillow until there’s no more to give out. He’s been crying with you, but sometimes it feels fake.

“Did you cheat on me?” You ask again, whispering in a shaky tone.

His lips purse and he shakes his head. “…no, I didn’t. I told you, I’d never.”

You search his face, looking for cracks in the foundation of his words. His sorrowful eyes, flushed cheeks, and trembling hands—all of it feels sincere, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Not so much anymore. “You’re sure?” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“I’m sure,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “I swear to you, Y/N. I’d never do that to you. Never.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear on your cheek, and for a moment, the warmth of his touch almost convinces you.

Almost.

You close your eyes, exhaling shakily as his hands cradle your face. You want to believe him. You need to believe him. But the doubt lingers like a shadow, clawing at the edges of your mind. “Then why do I feel like I’m losing you?” you ask, your voice breaking.

Satoru flinches, his hands momentarily faltering before steadying again. “You’re not losing me,” he says quickly, almost desperately. “I know I’ve been...different lately, but it’s not because I don’t care. I just—” He pauses, his gaze dropping as if searching for the right words. “I don’t know how to handle this, Y/N. I don’t know how to be what you need right now. There’s so much and I…” his voice trails off, fearing he’s saying too much and it’ll only make you feel worse. Make himself feel worse.

Your chest tightens, his confession cutting deeper than you expected. “I don’t need you to have all the answers, Satoru. I just need you to try. To be honest with me. To stop shutting me out. You…you’re the only one—you’re all I have right now.”

“I’m trying,” he insists, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “I swear I’m trying. But it feels like...like no matter what I do, it’s not enough. And I hate it. I hate that I’m hurting you.”

The rawness in his voice pulls at something in you, making it harder to keep the walls around your heart intact. You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. For a moment, the vulnerability in his expression mirrors your own. “I don’t want to lose you, Satoru,” you say softly. “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep feeling like I’m the only one fighting for us.”

“You’re not,” he whispers, his hands tightening slightly on your face as if afraid you’ll slip away. “You’re not, Y/N. I know I’ve messed up, but I’ll do better. I promise. Just...don’t give up on me. Please.”

The plea in his voice, the tears in his eyes—they’re enough to make the broken pieces of your heart shift, trying to fit back together even if they don’t quite align. Against your better judgment, you nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whisper. “But this is your last chance, Satoru. I mean it.”

“I know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t mess this up. I promise.” But Satoru isn’t the best at promises. He’s only good at making them for others, not keeping them for himself.

As he pulls you into his arms, holding you as if you might vanish, you can’t help but wonder how many more promises you’ll let him break before there’s nothing left of you to give. But for now, you let yourself sink into his embrace, hoping—maybe foolishly—that this time will be different. Because he’s all you have. All you know. He knows you inside and out—the way your voice wavers when you’re holding back tears, the way your hands fidget when you’re nervous, the way you laugh like it’s the only thing keeping you from breaking. And you know him just as deeply. Every freckle on his skin, every scar that tells a story, every mole you’ve discovered in moments of intimacy. You’ve memorized him like a favorite book, reading him over and over until the lines blur but still feel familiar.

You two are like each other’s canvases—painted with touches, kisses, and shared memories, even the messy ones. Every fight, every tear-streaked night, every whispered “I’m sorry” adds another layer to the masterpiece that is you and him. But lately, it feels like the colors are running, bleeding into one another until the picture is unrecognizable. And you don’t know if you can fix it, or if you even should. Never did you think that things would change so much, and all because of one failed situation.

What a weak body you have, what a weak person you are.

He holds you tighter, his fingers threading through your hair as if grounding himself in your presence. “You’re everything to me, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “I know I’ve been a mess, but I swear I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us.”

But his promises feel like paint on a waterlogged canvas—fading, smudged, and far too fragile. Still, you nod, letting the comfort of his warmth lull you into silence. Because no matter how fractured you feel, no matter how much the doubt weighs on your chest, he’s all you have. You can’t handle the thought of facing everything alone now, can’t handle the thought of not having someone to hug you when you burst down in tears.

You hate the way things are now, but you’ve sunk too deep into him. And him the same. Over time, you feel like he will retract his hold from you before you do so yourself. You can almost feel it coming, one way or another. It’s why you’re holding him tighter, pressing your body deeper into his. Because you know you wouldn’t be able to do it yourself. Awaiting the inevitable hurts so bad. Knowing that no matter what, your end is visible. You can see the finish line just a few yards away. It’s like a race, and you’re letting Satoru win. Envisioning him running his long legs to the checkered line with a smile on his face like he’s happy—relieved. You don’t want to hold him, that’s the last thing you want to do. However, you’re being as selfish as you can be right now. Before every privilege is stripped from you in a cold manner that will leave you shivering for warmth. But his presence is something. And for now, that’s enough to keep you here and sane.

Little did you know, you'd win that race before he did. You just needed that little push. He's the hare, and you're the tortoise.

You stay in his arms, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek a constant reminder of the closeness you’ve always shared. It feels almost like an illusion, the peace between you both. But underneath, there’s a tension that hasn’t quite loosened, a thread pulled tight between the two of you, holding you close but threatening to snap at the slightest tug. His grip tightens, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer as if trying to fuse your two worlds together. The quiet hum of the room feels almost suffocating now. Your phone continues to buzz with your mother’s increasingly frantic texts, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that right now. Not with Satoru’s breath warm on your neck and his hands gently caressing your skin. Not when it’s easier to let him hold you in this fragile moment of peace.

You close your eyes, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. The quietness stays for a long moment, But when he speaks, it’s almost a whisper, like he’s afraid of the truth that might spill out.

“I’ll try. I’ll be here for you, Y/N. I swear it.”

You wonder if you can truly believe him this time. If you can let yourself hope that things might really change. But the doubt is a familiar companion, lingering in the shadows, waiting to remind you of the cracks in his promises. Still, for tonight, you let it go. You let yourself sink into him, giving into the small piece of comfort he offers, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

You wake up in a cold sweat, dried tears staining your cheeks. Your stomach feels sensitive, nails already digging into your palms so hard that the skin is growing red and prickly. Every emotion you felt from that dream—nightmare—whatever it was feels ten times more real. You don’t know why you’re having these weird dreams about something from years ago.

But it still hurts all the same, nonetheless.

You still feel hollow, drowned, and ready to pour your heart out into your pillow. But it’s morning and time to get up for bed. Christmas Eve is in three days and you’re just counting down until when you won’t have to go into work. Going through your routine, getting Koji ready for the day, opening the door for Sana. Leaving your place of solitude, it feels like you barely even lived through this morning.

The chill of the morning air hits your skin as you step outside, tugging your coat tighter around you. The weight of your dream lingers, like a fog that refuses to lift. You keep telling yourself it was just a dream, just a memory from a time you’ve tried so hard to bury. But it clings to you like a ghost, whispering doubts into your ear, even as you force yourself to move through the motions. you can’t help but glance up at the sky, the gray clouds reflecting the heaviness in your chest. Christmas Eve is in three days, and you can’t wait to take a break from not just work—from everything.

If only escaping your past was as easy as flipping the calendar to a new year.

Satoru texts you around the 2-hour mark that he’ll be going over to your place soon to see Koji and bring the gifts he got. You let Sana know of the change, she replies back with a simple ‘okay!’

You sigh, willing yourself to forget about the drama your life entails, and focus on your work.

However, another thought is creeping in through the door, and this time—it’s not such a bad one. You feel a fluttering sensation in your gut, holding back a peal of stifled laughter as the memory of last night makes its presence known. After the whole shirt incident, Suguru stayed. He kept his word about not making anything weird, and you two ended with a simple chat and a movie. It felt nice.

Of course, there were hints of lingering peeks, that strange tension tossed up in the air that neither of you fully addressed. But it’s fine, it didn’t mean anything at the end of the day. Although, when it was time for him to leave, you did have a second of hesitation about whether you should hug him or simply say goodbye. He decided for you when he carefully opened his arms up, you followed suit.

Inhaling his scent felt heavenly. Manly, but also feminine at the same time. An earthly scent that felt like hints of incense. The memory of his embrace lingers like the faintest trace of his cologne, warm and comforting. It wasn’t just the way he held you—it was the way he made you feel. Secure. Understood. Like you weren’t just surviving, but living, even if just for that moment.

You haven't hugged a man in so long. You forgot how good they hug.

You shake your head, a small smile pulling at your lips despite yourself. It wasn’t anything. It shouldn’t be anything. Suguru’s always been like that—gentle, kind, and just a little too perceptive for his own good. He knew exactly when to stay and exactly what you needed without you even having to say it. Still, you can’t ignore the way your heartbeat picked up when his arms wrapped around you, the way your cheek brushed against his shoulder, and how your fingers had almost lingered a little too long against his back. It felt natural, but also entirely new.

Suguru’s presence was so easy, so effortless. It felt like slipping into an old favorite sweater, soft and familiar but with a spark of something you couldn’t quite place. You’d been so wrapped up in keeping everything together, in pushing through every day for Koji’s sake, that you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be seen.

You wonder if Satoru holds the same longing you do.

You shake the thought away as quickly as it comes. Don’t think about him. There’s no point in overthinking any of this.

“Hello, you must be Koji’s father.” Sana greets Satoru who stands in the doorway. With him, two armfuls of gifts. Even more on the floor next to his feet.

Simply nodding and looking over her shoulder to see Koji eating his lunch. “And you’re the babysitter.” Without much else, he carefully pushes past her, bringing in the gifts. “Mind getting the rest? Thanks.”

She nods, grabbing what was left on the floor before bringing it in, closing and locking the door. When she turns back around, Koji is in his father’s embrace. She smiles at the scene. “Ms. Y/N told me you’d be coming. He’s been good so far, he’s just eating his lunch now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Satoru replies, pulling away from his son. Doing a quick scan of the place before his eyes land back on the young woman. “How long have you been watching my son again?”

“A couple of years.”

He hums, walking closer to her. “And you’re how old?”

Sana blinks, surprised by the question. "I'm twenty," she says cautiously, her polite smile wavering slightly under his scrutiny.

Satoru raises an eyebrow, his gaze sharp but unreadable. "Twenty, huh? Pretty young to be taking care of kids."

“I’ve been babysitting since I was sixteen,” she replies, straightening her posture. “I’m studying early childhood education, so it’s not just a job to me. I care about Koji.”

His expression softens a fraction, and he glances back at his son, who’s happily munching away at his sandwich. “He does seem to like you,” Satoru admits, his tone less probing now.

“He’s a great kid,” Sana says warmly. “Very smart, just like his mother.”

That earns her a faint smile. “Yeah, just like his mother.” He crosses his arms, leaning casually against the counter. “So, Y/N told you I’d be stopping by today?”

“Yes, she mentioned it when I got here this morning.”

Satoru nods, tapping his fingers against his forearm thoughtfully. “Good. Thanks for helping out today. I know it’s probably not easy juggling school and babysitting.”

“It’s manageable,” Sana replies, sensing a subtle change in his demeanor. “Koji makes it worth it.”

Satoru’s gaze lingers on her for a moment longer before he straightens up. “I’ll take over from here. You can go ahead and clock out early if you want.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, waving her off. “Enjoy the rest of your day. I’ve got this.”

Sana hesitates briefly, glancing at Koji, who’s still blissfully unaware of the conversation. “Alright then. Have a good evening, Mr. Gojo.”

As she gathers her things and heads for the door, she feels his eyes on her. It’s not hostile, but it’s assessing. Like he’s trying to gauge something about her. She doesn’t dwell on it, though—whatever it is, it’s not her place to question. “Oh!” She turns around as if she just remembered something. “Ms. Y/N leaves a list. It’s taped to the—”

“I don’t need a list to take care of my son.” He cuts her off smoothly, his one eyebrow raising. “Thanks again, have a good day.”

She falters, once again caught a little off guard. This is her first time meeting him, and while she’s of course seen the articles and comments about the drama surrounding the small family, she has no bias. In fact, she sympathizes greatly with you for going through all this alone. As she’s leaving the apartment, she can’t help the small opinion of Satoru that he’s already given her.

He’s so intimidating!

After she leaves, Satoru focuses back on his son—this shitty apartment. He hasn’t explicitly voiced his opinions out to you—of course you already know what they are. And as you said before, it’s all you could afford, and Koji’s happy. However, he can’t stop himself from grimacing at the so-called ‘decorations’. This place needs some serious revamping.

“Hey, buddy?”

Koji looks over, wiping his mouth. “Yes, Papa?”

“When you’re done eating, want to help me with something?” And Koji doesn’t need to be told anymore. He loves helping—especially his mother and father. So he nods excitedly, practically scarfing down the rest of his sandwich. Bubbling with giddiness only a child could have.

Satoru chuckles at his son’s behavior, heart warming. This is the first time he’s doing something festive with Koji. The bitter part of him tells him that he could’ve had more chances to do so if it weren’t for your cowardness. But he shoves that away, focusing on the jolly joy the holidays can bring.

Today was more tiring than usual, with the cafe gaining more attention, there’s been rush after rush after rush. You can handle it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t wear you down by the time you clock out. And your day isn’t even done yet. Slugging your way to your front door, lazily opening it with your key. Tossing your coat on the nearby rack, your bag with it.

“I’m ba—”

You sniffle. One. Twice.

A pinecone-y scent fills your nostrils. Which is strange because you know you have no candles that house that aroma. Confusion, but wariness takes over your senses. Following the sound of laughter down the hall until you’re standing in the living room.

The sight you see is more than startling.

Your eyes dart around in a frenzy, landing on one new thing after the next. The small, simple Christmas tree you’d put up last week? Replaced by a towering, impeccably decorated monstrosity with shimmering lights and a star that looks like it came straight out of a luxury catalog. It barely even fits in the room. Luckily, the small picture ornament of you and Koji is still there. But it looks so out of place.

The garlands you’d strung across the walls? Gone, swapped for lush, sparkling ones adorned with oversized ornaments. Even your modest stockings have been replaced with personalized velvet ones embroidered with gold thread, hanging perfectly above a faux fireplace setup that definitely wasn’t there this morning.

It’s like a winter wonderland exploded in your living room, and you’re not sure whether to laugh or scream.

Koji is sitting on the couch, giggling as Satoru playfully pretends to tangle himself in a string of fairy lights. Your son’s laughter is contagious, but you can’t shake the growing irritation bubbling inside you. When Koji notices you, his eyes brighten even more. Gaping and rushing over to your leg, hugging it. “Mama! Mama! Look what Papa and I did! It’s so pretty and there are so many presents!”

There is. There’s a lot of presents. Practically stacking on top of one another under your refurbished tree. Hidden somewhere in the splurge are the gifts Suguru got for you and Koji.

Gulping, you feel your throat tighten. You feel nothing but overwhelmed. But in the face of your son, you can’t exactly show that. You force a smile as you ruffle Koji’s hair, trying to push down the irritation clawing its way to the surface. “Wow, it’s… definitely something,” you say, your voice strained but managing to sound somewhat amused for Koji’s sake.

Satoru, now untangled from the lights, looks up from the couch with that boyish grin of his. “Do you love it or do you love it?” he asks, gesturing to the extravagant decor like he’s unveiling a masterpiece.

You blink at him, incredulous—but still attempting to keep yourself calm. “What… what happened to the decorations we already had?”

“Oh, those?” He waves a dismissive hand. “Let’s just say they weren’t really up to par. I mean, come on, Y/N. That tree you had? It was like something out of a Charlie Brown Christmas special. I couldn’t let Koji’s holiday spirit suffer like that.”

Your jaw tightens, the forced smile threatening to slip. “So, you just… decided to replace everything? Without asking me?”

He stands, brushing off invisible dust from his jeans as if the weight of his decision is nothing. “You were busy, and I figured you’d appreciate coming home to something nice for once. Besides, look at Koji—he’s thrilled!”

Koji tugs at your sleeve, his wide-eyed excitement piercing through your annoyance. “It’s so cool, Mama! Look at all the shiny ornaments! And Papa let me pick out the star!” Your son runs over to show off a few of the many, many presents he has. Showing extra excitement for the heavier and larger ones. “Papa says it’s magical. I want to have a magical Christmas every time, Mama.”

The words, innocent but heavy, almost make you physically kneel down. You feel your chest tighten, your throat closing up even more. The lump that forms is difficult to swallow down. The implication of Satoru’s and your son's words feels a bit degrading. And you don’t blame it on Koji, he means nothing malicious. But for some reason, being faced with the physical line of difference between you and Satoru, watching your son’s face light up in a way that you’ve never seen before…

It reminds you that your enough has never been enough. Each Christmas, it’s dull. Your Christmases aren’t magical. Your life isn’t.

You feel the weight of it all crashing down like the oversized star on the new tree is pressing on your chest. Satoru's extravagance, Koji's innocent excitement, and your own feelings of inadequacy swirl together into a storm you’re barely holding back.

Your forced smile falters, but you quickly kneel to Koji's level, brushing his hair away from his glowing face. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” you say softly, voice trembling but steady enough to reassure him. “I’m glad you had fun with Papa.”

Koji beams, and for a moment, his joy is a balm to your frayed nerves. “It’s pretty, isn’t it, Mama?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “So pretty.” Standing slowly, your hand lingers on Koji’s shoulder. “Really pretty,” you repeat quietly, not committing to anything. You can feel Satoru watching you, his casual demeanor only adding to your irritation. The worst part of it all is that it seems like he genuinely has no idea what he did wrong.

In hindsight, maybe he didn’t. It wasn’t his intention to make you feel like a shitty mother, but Satoru is good at pointing out the differences in his own ways.

When Koji bounds back to the pile of gifts, you finally let yourself meet Satoru’s gaze. “You really didn’t think to talk to me about this?”

His grin fades just a fraction, replaced by a look of confusion. “What’s there to talk about? I wanted to do something special for Koji. And let’s be honest, Y/N—this is special.”

“It’s not about the decorations, Satoru,” you snap, your voice low but sharp. “It’s about you making decisions without considering how I might feel about it. Again.”

He tilts his head, the glower returning, though it feels sharper now. “You’re overthinking this. It’s just Christmas decorations, Y/N. Look at Koji—he’s happy. Isn’t that what matters?”

You clench your fists, the tightness in your chest threatening to spill over into something you can’t control. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about the decorations. It’s about you coming in here and acting like everything I do is subpar. Like I’m not enough.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, Satoru’s expression falters. But he recovers quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the arm of the couch. “Y/N, no one’s saying that. You’re reading too much into this. I just wanted to make things nice for Koji, that’s all.”

Your laugh is bitter, and it catches even you off guard. “Right. Because your version of nice is always the right one. I’m just the placeholder until you decide to step in and fix everything, aren’t I?”

Satoru’s eyes narrow slightly, the playful spark he had with Kojidimming. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” you counter, your voice breaking despite your effort to stay calm. “You swoop in with all your money and your grand gestures, and I’m supposed to just smile and be grateful. But do you even realize how hard I’ve worked to give Koji a Christmas he’ll enjoy? How much I’ve sacrificed just to keep things normal?”

His silence stings more than any retort could.

Koji’s laughter in the background feels distant now, muffled by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. He’s too distracted with the tree, his presents, everything. You inhale deeply, trying to steady yourself, before forcing a calmness you don’t feel. You won’t fight in front of him.

“I’m going to get changed,” you mutter, not waiting for a response.

As you leave the room, Satoru calls after you, his voice softer but no less exasperated. “Y/N, come on. Don’t make this into a bigger deal than it is.”

But to you, it already feels like a chasm. One that grows wider with every passing second.

You shut your door, leaning against it with your forehead. Breaths coming in short, hands trembling slightly. Biting your quivering lip, you maneuver your body to change into your uniform. All the while, tears are getting on your hands and clothes. Accidentally, you let out a small, broken whimper.

Quickly, you place a palm to your mouth, stifling and quieting your soft cries. Once you’re done changing, you fall back onto the bed. Curled up with knees drawn to your chest, as the burden of your own self-consciousness rains down on you. The room feels suffocatingly small, your emotions clawing at your throat, demanding to be let out.

The tears come harder now, soaking into the fabric of your uniform as you press your hands to your face, muffling the quiet sobs. You hate this—how easily Satoru gets under your skin, how he makes you feel insignificant without even trying. You thought you were past this. Past him. But somehow, he always finds a way to remind you of all the ways you’ve fallen short. Or at least, all the ways he makes you feel like you have.

There’s a soft knock on the door.

“Y/N?” His voice is muffled through the wood, quieter than usual as if he’s trying not to disturb you. “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer, biting down on your lip to keep from making another sound.

“Look,” he continues, his tone hesitant. “I know I upset you. I didn’t mean to. Can we just… talk?”

For a moment, you consider staying silent, letting him stew in his own discomfort. But the tension is too thick, and you know Koji is just down the hall. With a shaky breath, you push yourself to your feet, wiping at your face in a futile attempt to erase the evidence of your tears. Wiping your face and straightening your clothes, you open the door. “I have work.” You mutter, expertly enforcing a placid emotion. “Will you watch him?”

Without waiting for a response, you walk past him. But he grabs at your wrist, instinctively you pull away. “Stop, just stop, okay? Let’s not fight. We’re adults, we can talk this out. I don’t mean to make you feel less than, I just wanted to make Koji happy.”

“And do you think he’s not happy with me?” You snap back, looking up at him. Feeling your vision already beginning to blur. “Do you? Do you think he’ll be happy with you? I-Is that it?”

Satoru’s eyes widen slightly at your outburst, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. The air between you feels like it could snap under the weight of everything left unsaid. His hand hovers near his side, as if he wants to reach out again but knows better now. “No,” he says softly, his voice steady but lined with regret. “That’s not what I meant. Koji is happy with you. He loves you more than anything.”

“Then why do you keep acting like what I do isn’t enough?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you maintain eye contact with him. “I’ve been doing this alone, Satoru. Every scraped knee, every fever, every night when he cries because he’s scared of the dark—I’m there. Not you. Me. So don’t you dare come in here, throw your money around, and act like you can just fix everything with some… Christmas wonderland.”

“But you didn’t let me come in sooner, Y/N.” He replies, exasperation in his voice.

“I know that, and I’m sorry. I know I fucked up…”

“Then stop getting mad at little things.”

Your fists ball up, your expression growing firmer by the second. But so is the need to cry again. He’s right, everything he says is right. It’s your own fault that you’ve been forced to handle everything alone. But, don’t your feelings matter just a little bit in this situation? Is he allowed to just come in and fix up everything you have? What he thinks is a mess, it’s something that holds significance to you. What he thinks is a little thing, it’s a big one in your eyes.

So while this scenario is blowing up into something bigger, your decorations are something you have control of. You only have control over so many things in your life.

He exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to take anything away from you, Y/N. I swear. I just… I wanted to give him something special. Something I never had growing up.”

It makes you feel even more guilty. You can’t find it in you to say anything else, turning back around and walking to the living room. “Goodbye, Koji. Mama will see you later.” Giving him a brief hug and kiss, you hurriedly grab your coat and purse, exiting your apartment just as fast as you came.

Unbeknownst to you, Koji is left staring at the closed door. His head tilting in curiosity, while a frown pulling at the corner of his lips. He looks up at his father when he enters the living room again, the two owning matching guises. “Why’d Mama leave so fast? I wanted to show her the drawing we did.” The white paper in his hands pictures three figures. Each one smiling, the smaller boy in the middle holding hands with his two parents on either side of him. He even drew blue snowflakes.

There’s a red heart around them with the words My family! at the top.

Satoru stands there, staring at the door you just closed, feeling the weight of Koji’s innocent question settle on his shoulders. He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he glances down at his son, whose big, curious eyes are filled with disappointment.

“She’s just tired, buddy,” Satoru replies, crouching down to Koji’s level. His tone is softer now, more measured, as he tries to mask the turmoil bubbling under his calm façade. “She’s been working really hard, you know? Grown-up stuff.”

Koji’s frown deepens, his little brows furrowing. “But we worked hard too! We did the tree and the presents and everything!” His tiny hands gesture to the decorated room, his frustration clear. “Mama’s s’posed to be happy.”

Satoru feels his chest tighten at the words. He places a hand on Koji’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “She is happy, Koji. She just… needs some time, that’s all. Grown-ups can be funny like that.”

Koji looks down, fiddling with his fingers before glancing back up. “Is it my fault?”

Satoru’s heart aches at the question, and he immediately shakes his head, pulling Koji into a firm hug. “No, not even a little bit. You didn’t do anything wrong, Koji. Don’t ever think that, okay?”

Koji nods slowly against his father’s shoulder but remains quiet. Satoru pulls back, cupping his son’s face in his hands. “Mama loves you so much, Koji. More than anything in the world. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Okay…” Koji mumbles, still not entirely convinced. He inhaled deeply, then spoke again. “Do…does Mama love you too?”

The question catches him off guard, putting an even bigger weight on Satoru’s shoulders. He should’ve expected it, Koji is a curious kid who still doesn’t completely grasp the complexities of his parents’ relationship. Satoru smiles faintly, kissing Koji’s cheek. “Mama has a lot of love.”

The answer satisfies Koji. For now.

Satoru ruffles his son’s hair. “How about we finish that drawing? We’ll save it for her when she gets back.”

Koji perks up slightly, nodding. “Okay! But you gotta color inside the lines this time, Papa.”

Satoru chuckles, relieved to see even a small smile return to Koji’s face. “Deal. But only if you promise not to make fun of me if I mess up. I’m sensitive.”

Koji giggles, taking his father’s hand to lead him back to the small table. As they sit down to continue their drawing, Satoru steals a glance at the door again, his smile faltering for just a second.

He’s trying—he really is. But he wonders if it’ll ever be enough. It’s like no matter what he does, you don’t like it; and vice versa. He’s being as understanding and nice as someone in his situation can be. At times, he feels he’s being even too nice to you. He knew things wouldn’t be easy, but he wants to spend time with his son. Make up for all the lost time, and even the littlest moments. It’s almost a little bit unfair of you to throw the fact that he has money and you don’t in his face like that. He didn’t ask to be born rich. Just like you didn’t ask to be born…like that. You’re the adults in this situation, there’s a kid involved. So truly, he wishes he could just have a single conversation with you that doesn’t feel anger-surged or bitter. Of course, it’s hard because of what has happened before, but there’s a time and a place, is there not?

Whatever. He’s more than happy to color with Koji and do whatever the little boy asks while you have your own moment. Satoru knows best of everyone else you like having space. And while many years have passed and his feelings for you have grown less than savory, he stills wants to respect your wishes after an argument with him.

He can’t help but think the obvious, though. Is it even worth attempting to mend whatever little shards of semblance there is left with you?

Probably not. Because after all, he’s here only for Koji.

Right?

taglist is now closed

taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins

@sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited

@duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee

@devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts @bitchycloudstrawberry @tiffyisme3760 @iheartshopping

@chiara-hotel @uriahs-barn @celloccino @roronoazorosbxtchh @pseudophyllus

@ratedrrrr @m1gota @tojideckmuncher @yigaclvn @sukunaslve

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@i0313z @gourdlorddgubes @partypoison00 @quinnyundertow @sorilyae

@redzscare @aldebrana @nycmagi @s4ikooo1 @dreaming-lis @gigiiiiislife

@boothillglazer @miss-dior @miakxn @rjreins

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777heavengirl · 7 hours ago

Text

Bless the Telephone ; ##02

James Potter x f!muggle!reader

word count: 1,511

warnings: i dont think theres any? lmk...

a/n: :) i hope yall like it, at the rate im pumping these out i might do two updates per week but we'll see how that goes..."

series masterlist

main masterlist

You sighed as you opened the door, the various bags of food, toiletries, clothes, and whatever else you had picked up during the day made your arms feel like they might fall off, cutting into your skin and your circulation. Your fingers had gone numb two stops away from your apartment, you could feel the relief as you dumped half the bags on the kitchen counter.

You dumped the other half and the backpack that hung heavy across your back in your room.

“Hey, darling-” your roommate popped her head up from where she lay on the couch, wild curls practically floating around her. “Yer phone’s been ringing nonstop for like an hour-”

You groaned, glancing at the clock briefly while putting your shopping in their rightful places.

7:30 p.m.

“D’you know who it was?”

“Why would you ever think I’d get up to check?” She popped some chips into her mouth with a laugh

You turned, hands on your hips, a small smirk playing on your lips

“You mean to tell me you’d rather put up with the ringing than get up?”

“Yeah- why not? Turn up the telly and boom- can’t even hear a thing mate” She said, smiling from the couch. You couldn’t help but laugh along with her-

The phone rang, not as violent as that morning two days ago, sound muffled by the wall and your closed door. It was loud nonetheless.

Your roommate turned up the volume of the television.

“Talk of the devil!” she screamed through the roaring sound of whatever trashy game show she was watching.

You dragged yourself to your room, closing the door behind you. You could still hear the exaggerated volume of the telly. The phone kept on ringing, the red light angrily flashing at you to go pick it up already-

“Hello?”

“Where’ve you been?” it was teasing, you wanted to say it was his voice. The mysterious voice on the phone, one Mr James Potter. You weren’t sure. You didn’t know how to feel about it either.

“Who is this?”

“Woah, one day and you’ve already forgotten me- you’re breaking my heart here sweetheart” the voice crackled through the static of the receiver. Oh it was definitely Mr James Potter calling again

“Potter?”

“James- But yes”

“Ah! That one- to what do I owe the pleasure?” You bit your lip slightly, excitement turning in your stomach. You grabbed the base of the phone, moving the machine as close to your bed as the cable would let you, the rest of the stretch between your bed and the telephone could be covered by the curled plastic cord. You sat on the mattress.

“Do you know any other Potters?”

“Just the one- but to be fair, I don't really know you either”

“Mhm… fair enough, I think I only know one other person with your name-”

“Really?”

“Yeah, nasty woman really- called me daft two days ago,” he said, tone serious as if recounting a deeply wounding moment… you let out a laugh “You wouldn’t believe how rude she was to me”

“Oh was she really? That’s terrible news, maybe it was because you called her— a stranger by the way, at four in the bloody morning”

“You got me, wasn’t on purpose though— you still haven’t answered my question by the way” You could hear that little smirk on his lips again

“What would that be Potter?”

“James- but where were you?”

“What’s it to you? Trying to stalk me or something?” you could feel your heartbeat quicken,

“I just tried calling earlier-”

“Yeah, my roommate said, the phone rang a ton— were those all you or should I check my messages?”

“I wasn’t sure I was hitting the right number okay? pissed off a few other people too”

“Oh so this is the norm for you-”

“Hey! It isn’t my fault, I just didn’t know how to do the little- you know…” had this guy ever used a phone before? “call the previous number thing- ugh I don’t know what it’s called but whatever I didn’t know how it worked” he huffed

“Potter, are you a ten-year-old boy? Scratch that, my cousin knows how to do that- maybe you are daft”

“If I say yes will you tell me what you were up to?” he said, you laughed again

“I was running some errands, nothing special… why’d you wanna know?” you raised an eyebrow, you curled the cable around your index finger, the rest of the cool plastic wrapping around your hand.

“Was just wondering…”

A beat.

“I realize now that me calling you back might be strange-”

“You don’t say- only took you about ten minutes of conversation, you didn’t think about that before you called?”

“Not really- my mum says I lack impulse control,”

“I can tell you have zero of that-”

“she blames Dad but we both know she’s the one I got it from” he chuckled, and you couldn’t help but mirror it.

“You still haven’t answered my question, Potter-”

“You really not going to call me James?”

“No- I don’t know you-”

“I guess that's fair enough- what was your question?”

“Why’d you call?” he stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, almost as if thinking deeply about your question before his voice broke through the static again.

“Honestly?”

“Obviously-” you retorted, another chuckle left his lips.

“I don’t really know… I don’t really have a reason I just wanted to talk” you mouled over his answer, strange but not bad.

“You don‘t have friends for that already?”

“You’ve never made new friends with complete strangers?”

“Not like this-” you traced a pattern onto your sheets as you spoke,

“Well, I can be the first! so how old are you?” he sounded giddy “If I say I’m sixty five will you leave me alone?”

“It would be worse- I love old ladies, but they love me immediately so I suspect you aren’t one”

“because I don’t immediately love you?”

“obviously” he mirrored you “I’m twenty-“

“What a coincidence, so am I” you whispered, he heard you nonetheless

You pursed your lips to suppress a smile as James asked questions and explained things about his life that you didn’t ask for. You felt quite silly- talking on the phone with a boy you’d never met, you didn’t know what he looked like, nor if he was really who he said he was.

His tone and his rambles seemed genuine enough, he was a very peculiar boy- talking about how he was mildly scared of the tube but my mate Sirius loved it.

“Is this Sirius one of the voices I heard last time?”

“Yeah- he asked if you were pretty which looking back might’ve been a little rude”

“Eh- maybe, I’d feel terrible to disappoint him though”

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know if he’s expecting some striking supermodel to be answering the phone…” you trailed off slightly, James went quiet “I reckon I’m alright though”

“You’re probably selling yourself short doll,“

“Anyway- what do you do?”

“What do you mean love?”

“Like are you in Uni? or something else?”

“Oh! umm- something else for sure”

“What?”

“Potter- like what do you do? you know… with your life”

“I just live? I don’t know- d’you mean like occupationally?”

“Yes occupationally idiot-“

“Okay okay don’t yell at me— you’ll break my little heart babe come on-“ he cleared his throat a couple of times “I kind of work for my father I guess? What do you do?”

“I go to Uni- I also work at a little coffee shop on weekends… what does your father do?”

“he makes hair potions-“ he said, almost choking on his words. you raised an eyebrow

“like hair gel and shit?”

“y-yeah that’s what I meant like… conditioners and s-styling… gels… and shit” you laughed out loud, not being able to conceal it this time. a short series of giggles that delighted James ever so slightly. You could hear him get quiet briefly, almost as if he was running out of words “What do you do in this Uni of yours?”

“Administration… not the most thrilling field I fear”

“I’m assuming you’re not the fondest of it then”

“not particularly, but it’ll do… do you like working for your dad?”

“he’s made a ton of money with his products- I’m very proud of him for it… to be honest probably not what I wanted to do with my life but it’s not… difficult, so I can focus on other things, more exciting things so I really can’t complain…” he was about to continue, rambling about the silver linings of it.

you interrupted “What did you want to do?”

“Pardon?” he asked,

“With your life James- what did you want to do with your life?”

You thought he had stayed quiet, maybe thinking, searching for the words until the dial tone rang in your ear— he had hung up. You stared at the phone as you put it back on the base.

Peculiar boy wasn’t he?

tags ; @ilovejamespottersomuch @ravisinghs-wife @hidontmindtheintrovert @stella-thestars @caspiankingofnarnia @lovelyteenagebeard @starkluvrr @hisparentsgallerryy @leilani13gc

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine

pls send me an ask if you wanna be added!

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders era #james #james x reader #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x reader #james potter #james fleamont potter #james f potter #james f potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you

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howlsofbloodhounds · 3 days ago

Note

I know you're more of a Killer person but I wanted to share some thoughts on Horror since I've been going back abit for his comic and lore I've never played the game though.

I feel like Horror has one main fanon interpretation and that he's a big guy who's soft for his other teammates, makes excellent food always eating something or constantly thinking of just food who gardens and cooks constantly. Also, he wields a giant axe but can't use magic anymore and really only cares for his Papyrus. Oh and he's a cannibal who eats humans disregarding the fact that humans ans monsters are different species. Oh also problems saying sentences or a single word so barely talks and he has problems with his memory where he doesn't properly make new memories.

Horror is so much more then that first of all that guy isn't soft, I'm unsure if he can even cook, doesn't seem like someone who would garden but more likely hunt or just go to a store. He's rude, mean, and a sadist. He won't directly hurt you when Papyrus is close by and as long as he is entertained doesn't have much of an urge to hurt you either. He's super paranoid and distrusting believing anyone can simply betray him even those closest. He's not even big its mentioned that he is still small and is only seen tall by the human child. He's probably the most judgemental of the group and manges to have the worst trust issues out of all of them. You already know he hasn't eaten in what 7 years, he's willing to give up food to others if he thinks they need it more even if it would be harder on him and Papyrus he has a huge sense of community with Snowdin in which people respect him but are also afraid of him. He seems to isolate himself from the rest of them not exactly physically but its obvious he keeps his distance emotionally and most of the physically away from them despite being the glue that holds them together. He was only shown once with an axe and it wasn't comically huge it says he prefers a heavy thigh bone and it's been shown he still has access to his magic and can use it even during present time. He wouldn't even physically touch Aliza he made a whole paragraph to stop him from eating anything alive. Also he yaps a lot he's almost constantly talking throughout the comic don't know about the game but I've seen a bit and it doesn't seem like his chattiness is lessened. Also despite what many think he has retrograde amnesia not antegrade amnesia. Meaning his memories of before the injury are blured or gone its mentioned that many of the things in Frisk run is forgotten he doesn't have any problems making new memories or any speech impediment.

Sorry for the rant but you're probably my favorite person to just share my thoughts with

~Musical Anon

You don’t have to apologize for ranting in my inbox. I may be the Killer and Color guy, but I enjoy when people rant to me about other characters and aus too. It’s nice to hear from everyone.

The idea that the yapper in the Murder Time Trio all along was actually Horror instead of Killer is so silly though.

And given that he is only seen as tall from the human child’s POV, and Killer was drawn as smaller than his Chara even though he doesn’t have a confirmed canon height, does this potentially mean that Killer could be smaller than Horror if only by a few inches?

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genderqueerdykes · 2 hours ago

Note

I promise this is just coming from someone who wants to learn, and I apologize if it sounds hateful or rude for what I'm about to ask that is not what I want at all,

but when it comes to systems, DID, plurality, from what I have heard, it is something extremely extremely rare, and something that most people under the age of 25 the body isn't even supposed to like "reveal" until older. I'm just confused and I would really like to hear from someone who actually is plural and not just from like Google

is being a system, DID, and plurality even the same? And the only plural people I have met irl have like 25,000+ alters of dsmp characters (I ofc know not everyone who is plural isnt just fictive and it's all different)

just a very confused person who isn't plural and I would really like to learn and be educated !! I would really like to understand more and hate unreasonably for something I don't understand

hello there!

you can be plural without having DID. there's not really much else to it. DID is one form of plurality. it's not the end all be all of plurality. there are even other dissociative disorders like OSDD that get cast by the wayside when people adopt this kind of mentality. there's so much more to plurality than DID. also, there is no set age at which the symptoms at DID become apparent on the outside. i've been having dissociative symptoms since i was a kid. my alters were active and present even as a teenager!

relying on medical statistics alone for DID is a bad idea because most professionals who are capable of diagnosing someone with a mental health condition don't even know what dissociative disorders are or what they entail. my own therapist has known that I have DID the entire time i've known her, but she has told me that currently, she can't help me with it, because she has not received training for it. dissociative disorders are nowhere near as rare as we think they are, one has to consider that a number even as low as 1% - 2% of the global population is an absolutely massive number of people!

saying that DID is "extremely rare" in this case in order to discredit non dissociative plurals is an appeal to authority. it's appealing to the medical industry who refuses to take it seriously in the first place. the amount of professionals i've had who pointed out that i have dissociative disorders vs. the ones who never commented on it at all is pretty staggering. this is due to a lack of proper research due to lack of funding, not because DID is genuinely that rare. the reason there isn't more research into plurality in general is because of a lack of funding. medical studies and organizations require funding. if they don't see money in it, they won't do it.

DID is still a heavily stigmatized condition. things haven't gotten much better since it was renamed from Multiple Personality Disorder. people with dissociative disorders are still treated like shit in medical settings, so to me, it makes no sense at all whatsoever to pit dissociatives against other plurals because no one takes ANY of us seriously, it's not non-dissociative plurals' faults that we're not taken seriously. it's the medical industry. there are no medications to push for DID. DID does not respond to medication. this already makes a lot of doctors not want to interact with it at all, because there's no commissions for medications prescribed.

"And the only plural people I have met irl have like 25,000+ alters of dsmp characters."

i'm pointing this out gently, i don't think you're a bad person, but this is sooooo mean, please don't be that mean and judgmental about other people, plural or not. please consider how those people would feel if they heard you talking about them like that. even if you don't view them as plural, you shouldn't think it's okay to discredit their lived experience. what are you getting out of phrasing it like that? even if that person turns out to not be plural, please do not judge other people based off of things like this. you don't live inside of their head. you don't know what's going on in there.

i'm not entirely sure why people think this way about introjects and fictives, but they're an extremely normal part of the plural experience! one of the most well known DID systems of all time, Truddi Chase and The Troops, had not only fictional alters (Elvira) but also factual ones as well (Mean Joe Green). this is not new, nor is it isolated to non dissociative plurals. introjects and fictives are extremely normal. it doesn't mean someone is faking just because they've introjected someone, or someones.

hope that helps, in general, please understand that the only lived experience that you are the arbiter of is your own and you cannot tell someone else what they're experiencing, no matter what. plurality will look different for every person, system and so on that experiences it! the sooner you accept that the easier your own life will become. it's not hurting you for someone to have headmates that you don't like. that's their business, not yours, and that's actually a very freeing thing!

great addition from the tags:

#asks #answers #plurality #plural #did #dissociative disorders #actually plural #pluralgang #plural system

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sh1nr · 1 day ago

Text

Dangerous Love

Jang Kyujin x Male Reader

wc: 4k

ao3

tags: mild angst, fluff, partners in crime, first kiss

(tw) blood, injury, near death experience

summary: What happens when someone saves you from almost dying?

"Told you to not wave that gun around" Kyujin said cleaning the blood off your hand

"I didn't know it had ammunition" You said "God it hurt like hell i swear i thought i would die"

Kyujin raised an eyebrow, her expression cold as she wiped the blood with a cloth. "You should've known better. Guns aren't toys." Her voice was low, laced with a hint of annoyance, but there was something else there, something that betrayed her worry.

You winced, your hand still clutching your side, the pain sharp and biting. "I didn’t even mean to pull the trigger. It was just… a reflex. And I didn’t think it was loaded. Who keeps a gun loaded like that?"

"People who know what they're doing, and you're not part of that group." Kyujin said sharply.

"Look i'm sorry" You said

"Yeah your ass should be sorry" Kyujin said as she finished cleaning your hand, her eyes still cold but lingering with a trace of concern. "You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. That shot could’ve hit anything—your heart, your lungs."

"I get it" You said

"You don't. And won't until you kill someone or yourself." Kyujin said

You flinched at the harshness in Kyujin's voice. It hit harder than the pain in your side. You knew Kyujin was right, but the weight of her words felt suffocating.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone,” You whispered, your voice shaky. You let your head fall back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer would reveal itself there.

Kyujin exhaled slowly, her breath heavy with frustration. She sat down beside you, looking at the wound. "You're lucky. It’s not deep, but you need to get that patched up before it gets worse."

"I'll be fine," You muttered, not wanting to admit that you were scared, not just from the pain, but from the reality of what you did

"Stop lying." Kyujin said

Kyujin reached into her bag and pulled out a first aid kit. Her movements were deliberate, efficient, almost too calm given the situation. "Take your shirt off," she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. "Do you really have to-"

"Now, Y/n," Kyujin cut you off, her eyes sharp. "Or do you want to risk an infection on top of everything else?"

Grumbling under your breath, you complied, wincing as you pulled your shirt over your head. The sight of the wound made your stomach turn. It wasn’t as bad as you thought, but the dried blood and the raw edges of the graze were enough to make you realize how close you came to a real disaster.

Kyujin didn’t say anything as she got to work. The silence between you both was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension of the moment. The sting of the antiseptic made you flinch, but you bit your lip to keep from crying out. You didn’t want to give Kyujin the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt.

"This is weird" You said

"Don't act like i haven't seen you naked before" Kyujin said

Your cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "That’s not the point. This is… different."

Kyujin rolled her eyes, her focus unwavering as she cleaned the wound. "Different how? Because you’re feeling guilty this time?"

You groaned, your head falling back again. "Do you always have to be so blunt?"

"Do you always have to be so reckless?" Kyujin shot back

"Do you have to be so rude?" You shot back

Kyujin paused, her hands hovering over the bandage she was about to apply. She looked up, meeting your eyes with a mix of exasperation and concern. "You think I’m rude? Fine. But next time if you shoot yourself accidentally I'm not helping you."

"Whatever" You mumbled

"Don't 'whatever' me. I'm younger but I act like an adult not you." Kyujin said

You let out a frustrated sigh, but there was a part of you that knew Kyujin had a point. Your reckless nature had always gotten you into trouble, and yet Kyujin was always there to pick up the pieces. That thought made you feel guilty all over again.

"I don’t need you to act like my mom," You muttered, trying to deflect the vulnerability you were feeling.

Kyujin didn’t react immediately. She simply finished securing the bandage, her fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary, almost as if she was checking to make sure you were okay. "I’m not acting like your mom. I’m trying to keep you alive. Don’t confuse the two."

"You do act like a mom though" You said

Kyujin’s expression softened for a moment, though it quickly shifted back to her usual tough demeanor. "Maybe I do. Someone has to look out for you when you keep making stupid decisions." You didn’t respond right away, the silence hanging heavy between you both again. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude mixed with embarrassment. Kyujin had always been the one to steady you when you spiraled, and you hated feeling so dependent. It made you feel weak.

"I’m sorry," You said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t mean to put you in this position."

Kyujin looked up, her gaze piercing. "You say that, but you keep doing the same shit over and over. When are you going to learn?"

You took a deep breath, your fingers playing nervously with the edge of the blanket you were sitting on. "I don’t know. Maybe when I don’t have you to help me anymore."

Kyujin’s eyes softened, but only just a little bit. "You’re not getting rid of me that easy." She stood up, packing the first aid kit away with swift movements. "But I’m not going to be here to patch you up every time you screw up."

"I get it," You said, your tone quieter now. You looked at the bandage on your side, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. You weren't sure if you were more frustrated with yourself or the way Kyujin always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you realize how reckless you had been.

Kyujin paused, then looked back at you. "Next time, I’m locking up all the guns. You’re not touching anything without me, understand?"

You let out a soft laugh, though it lacked humor. "Yeah, I understand." You looked up at Kyujin, feeling the weight of your unspoken bond between them. "Thanks, Kyujin."

Kyujin’s eyes softened for a moment, her usual sharp edge replaced by something warmer. "Just don’t make me regret it," she said, before turning and heading toward the door.

"I won’t," You said quietly, watching her leave. You leaned back, closing your eyes, the pain in your side still present but somehow less consuming. It was strange, how Kyujin always knew how to make you feel better, even when you didn’t want to admit it. You sat there for a moment longer, the silence of the room settling around you. Your hand instinctively went to the bandage, checking to make sure it was secure. It was a small comfort, but it was the only one you had right now. You could still feel the weight of the gun in your hand, the shock of the trigger pulling itself, and the pain that followed. The reality of it all seemed surreal, like it had happened to someone else

Just then Kyujin walked back into the room Kyujin stood in the doorway for a moment, watching you with a look that was unreadable. She had gone to grab something from her bag, but now, seeing you sitting there, she paused.

"I thought you might need this," Kyujin said, breaking the silence as she walked over with a glass of water and a small pill bottle.

You looked up at her, her expression softening. "You don’t have to keep taking care of me, you know," you said, a hint of guilt creeping into your voice.

Kyujin ignored the comment, setting the glass down in front of you. "You’re not getting rid of me, Y/n. Just take the damn water."

You sighed, but took the glass and drank from it, feeling the cool liquid soothe your dry throat. You swallowed the last of it and glanced back at Kyujin. "I’m really sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Kyujin didn't say anything for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if she was thinking about what to say next. Finally, she sat down next to you, her voice quieter this time. "I know you didn’t. But you always do this. You rush into things without thinking."

"I’m impulsive," You admitted, looking down at your hands. "I know. I just… I don’t always think things through. And sometimes it feels like it’s the only way to feel in control. But then I screw up, and you're the one who has to fix it."

Kyujin’s gaze softened slightly, though there was still a faint edge to her voice. "It’s not just about fixing things, Y/n. It’s about you putting yourself, and others, at risk. You're better than this. You don’t need to keep trying to prove something by getting hurt."

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked away, your gaze distant. "I’m trying. I just don’t know how to stop. Sometimes it feels like I can't control it… like it’s too much, and I do something reckless just to… escape, or feel something different."

Kyujin studied you for a moment, then reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You don’t have to keep running, Y/n. You’ve got people who care about you, whether you realize it or not. And I'm not going anywhere."

Your eyes stung, your chest tightening with emotion you hadn’t expected. You swallowed hard, nodding. "I know… it’s just hard sometimes."

"I get that," Kyujin said quietly, her voice softening. "But you don’t have to do it alone."

You didn’t answer right away, but after a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into Kyujin’s side, the warmth of her presence calming the storm inside you. It wasn’t a perfect fix, and you knew there was a lot to work through, but for the first time in a long time, you felt a small sense of relief. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to fight everything by yourself.

Kyujin’s arm wrapped around you, a silent gesture of support that spoke volumes. The weight of the world didn’t seem as heavy when someone else was there to share it, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to let go of the constant pressure she always felt to be strong, to have everything under control.

Just as Kyujin wrapped both of your arms around your waist you winced. "Oh sorry" Kyujin said

"Sorry for ruining the romantic moment" You teased

"Dont." Kyujin said with a smirk "Romantic moment? What did you mean by that?" Kyujin asked

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a playful grin. "Well, you know… with the whole 'I’m here for you' thing, and the arm around my waist, it kind of felt like a scene from one of those melodramatic romance movies."

"We are not having those lovers in danger moments." Kyujin said

"Unfortunate" You said with a smirk

"What do you mean?" Kyujin asked

You smirked, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "I mean, I think we could pull it off. You know, the whole ‘tragic hero’ thing? You, the brooding protector, and me, the reckless one who needs saving. It’s practically a perfect plot."

Kyujin rolled her eyes, though the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth betrayed her amusement. "You’re delusional. I’m not playing your damsel-in-distress fantasy."

"Who said anything about a damsel?" You teased, nudging her lightly with your elbow. "Besides, I think we could be the type of couple that survives a crazy situation together, you know? Like those action movie pairs."

Kyujin raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Y/n, we’re not going there. I’m not saving your ass every time you make a mistake.

"We would also be the couple that steals a kiss or two during a mission" You said

Kyujin froze for a moment, her expression unreadable as she processed your words. Then, with a deep sigh, she leaned back, crossing her arms with an exaggerated look of annoyance. "You really do have a thing for drama, huh?"

You shrugged, your grin widening. "Maybe I just like the idea of us being the center of a story. A really epic, action-packed story."

Kyujin shook her head, though there was a spark of amusement in her eyes. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Hey, it’s not my fault that you’re too good at playing the part of the brooding protector," You teased, leaning back against the wall with a smirk. "All you need now is a leather jacket and a mysterious past."

"I think you need to relax a little." Kyujin said

"Can't when it's you." You said

"I'm not playing into your romantic delusions" Kyujin said

"Not a delusion but a reality." You said

"You're…something for sure." Kyujin said

You let out a soft chuckle, your heart lightening as both of you exchanged playful banter. There was something comforting about the back-and-forth, the way you both could slip into moments of normalcy despite everything that had just happened. It was almost like a reminder that life wasn’t just about the chaos and mistakes—it was about these little exchanges, the ones that made everything feel a little more bearable.

"I think you're just secretly enjoying it," You said with a mischievous grin, nudging Kyujin once more. "You can't fool me, I know you secretly love the drama."

Kyujin scoffed, though the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. "I’m seriously starting to question my life choices right now."

"Why?" You asked, your voice dripping with playful innocence. "Because you're stuck with me? Because I make your life interesting?"

Kyujin rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away. "I think you’d be a lot easier to handle if you weren’t always trying to drag me into your ridiculous scenarios."

"Hey, at least I keep things fun," You retorted, flashing her a bright grin. "Wouldn’t you be bored without me?"

There was a brief moment of silence as Kyujin studied you, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe," she admitted, before looking away, as if trying to hide the vulnerability that flickered across her face. "You can be exhausting though."

You leaned in closer "But you love me."

"I swear, you're going to be the death of me." Kyujin said taking a step away

"I think that happened a while ago." You said taking a step closer to her

"If you're referencing you shooting yourself? Yeah." Kyujin said taking a step away

"Maybe, but also something else." You said taking a step closer to her once again

"Which is?" Kyujin asked taking a step away once again

You grinned, a teasing spark in your eyes as you closed the distance between them. "The fact that you can't seem to stay away from me, even when I make your life a living nightmare."

Kyujin scoffed, though there was no real heat behind it. "You're delusional if you think I'm sticking around because of you."

Your grin widened as you took another step forward, now standing just a few inches from Kyujin. "Come on, admit it. You like the chaos. It keeps you on your toes."

Kyujin met your gaze for a moment, her expression shifting as she thought about it. Her usual sarcasm was gone, replaced by something more genuine, even if she didn’t want to fully acknowledge it. "I don’t know if ‘like’ is the word I'd use," she said, voice softening slightly. "But maybe I’m not as immune to it as I thought."

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the crack in Kyujin's armor. "So, you're telling me… you’re not secretly enjoying our little dance of tension?"

Kyujin’s face flushed slightly, but she quickly masked it with a roll of her eyes "I didn't say that." You leaned in closer, your playful grin not fading as you studied Kyujin's expression. "Oh? So you are enjoying it, just a little bit, huh?"

Kyujin crossed her arms tightly, clearly trying to keep her composure, but the flush on her cheeks was undeniable. "You’re unbelievable," she muttered, though there was a hint of warmth in her voice that she couldn't quite hide.

You chuckled, taking another step forward until there was barely any space between you both. "Admit it. You’re secretly entertained by me."

Kyujin let out a deep sigh, her gaze dropping for a moment, and then she looked up, her eyes softening slightly. "You… make things interesting, Y/n. But don't think for a second that I enjoy all of it."

"All of what?" You asked, your voice quieter now, the teasing tone replaced by something more sincere.

Kyujin hesitated, her eyes flickering briefly before she spoke. "All the mess… the chaos you bring. But… yeah, I guess… I guess I can’t help but stick around."

Your heart skipped a beat at the admission. You could feel the weight of the words, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to take them in fully, not just as a joke or playful teasing, but as something real.

“You really do care, huh?” You asked softly, your voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

Kyujin didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she looked at you for a long moment, her expression a mix of frustration and tenderness. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "You’re an idiot, but I care about you. More than I probably should."

Your heart softened, a gentle warmth spreading through her chest. For a moment, it felt like the walls between you two had crumbled, and all the teasing and banter melted away, leaving something much deeper, something more vulnerable and real.

"Yeah but i'm your idiot." You said

Kyujin’s eyes softened, and she let out a quiet laugh, her usual sarcasm slipping away as she looked at you "You're my cute silly idiot"

"Cute? Aww!" You said

Kyujin rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. "Don't get too carried away," she teased, her voice light but still carrying that soft warmth. "You know I'm only saying it because it's true."

You grinned, your playful demeanor never fully fading. "I’m still your idiot though, right? The one you can't seem to shake off."

Kyujin shook her head, though her eyes were soft. "Unfortunately, yes. You’re stuck with me."

Your grin softened into something more sincere, your eyes meeting Kyujin’s. "I’m okay with that. As long as you don’t mind me being a little… extra sometimes."

Kyujin raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping her. "Extra? You mean all the time."

You nodded, your expression teasing again. "Well, you love it, don’t you?"

Kyujin gave you a mock glare, but the playfulness in her voice didn’t hide the affection. "I might, but don’t get too cocky about it."

Your heart fluttered at the tenderness in Kyujin’s tone, the unspoken connection between you both thickening with every word. "You know, for someone who pretends to hate me, you’re really bad at hiding it."

Kyujin rolled her eyes again, but this time, there was no denying the soft smile on her face. "I don’t hate you. I’m just… trying to keep you in check. You’re a handful."

"Only for you," You replied, your voice low but teasing.

Kyujin sighed dramatically, though her smile never faded. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

"I would still kiss you by the way" You said

"Try me." Kyujin said Your grin only widened at the challenge, your heart racing slightly at the playful dare in Kyujin's voice. You leaned in just a little closer, your breath brushing against Kyujin’s cheek, the tension between them palpable. For a moment, the world outside of your little bubble seemed to disappear, leaving only the space between the both of you.

Kyujin didn’t pull away, but her expression was a mix of amusement and something deeper, something more vulnerable. Her lips quivered into a smirk, clearly still testing the boundaries, but there was something unspoken in the way she didn’t move.

Your eyes flickered to Kyujin’s lips for a brief second, then back to her eyes. “Are you sure about that?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper now, the teasing tone replaced by a softer, more serious edge.

Kyujin’s gaze softened, and she let out a quiet sigh. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice quieter, almost hesitant. “But I think you should, uh, just go ahead and try. If you’re brave enough.”

The challenge was clear, but the undercurrent of something else, the vulnerability, the trust, was equally clear in her eyes. It was a moment that hung in the air, suspended between them, heavy with possibility.

Your heart thudded in your chest, but instead of retreating, you took a deep breath and closed the remaining distance between you two, your hand gently cupping Kyujin’s cheek. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like you were both testing the waters. It wasn’t a movie moment, it wasn’t dramatic, no stolen kisses during a high-speed chase or danger-filled mission, but it felt real. It was raw and honest, something that neither of you two had fully expected, but both seemed to need.

When you finally pulled away, the silence between the two of you felt different, more peaceful, as if something had shifted. Your gaze softened, her fingers still resting gently against Kyujin’s skin. “You know we can't do this…" Kyujin said

"Worth a try." You said

Kyujin's eyes flickered, uncertainty dancing in them as she looked at you, her breath still unsteady from the kiss. "Yeah," she murmured, almost to herself, "Worth a try."

You smiled, but it was softer now, quieter, as if the teasing mask had finally slipped away. "I don’t know what it is between us," you admitted, your voice quieter, tinged with a raw honesty that was rare for you. "But whatever it is… it’s different."

Kyujin nodded slowly, her gaze not leaving your face. "Yeah, it’s… complicated."

"Complicated is an understatement," You said with a soft chuckle, though your voice held a hint of frustration, as if you were trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "But I think… maybe it’s worth figuring out. If you’re willing to."

Kyujin’s gaze softened, the edges of her usual guarded nature slipping away. "I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, Y/n," she confessed, her voice a little more vulnerable than usual. "But I know I don’t want to walk away from this… whatever this is."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe she wasn’t the only one who was scared of the unknown. "Neither do I," you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, just letting the quiet settle around the two of you. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but in that silence, you both understood something unspoken.

Kyujin finally broke the quiet, her voice soft but steady. "We’re both messes, you know that?"

You grinned, your eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. "Yeah, but we’re each other’s mess."

Kyujin rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I don’t know if that’s comforting or terrifying."

You leaned in again, this time a little more confidently, your fingers gently brushing Kyujin’s. "Maybe both."

Kyujin’s smile deepened, and she let out a soft laugh, her hand brushing against yours in return. "Yeah, I think you’re right."

You both stood there for a moment, caught in the quiet space you had carved out for yourselves, knowing that things wouldn’t be easy and that your path ahead was far from clear. But for the first time, neither of you felt like you had to figure it all out alone. And for the first time, that mess didn’t seem so bad.

#kpop fluff #gxg #kpop x reader #nmixx x reader #x reader #bae #gxg fluff #kpop imagines #kyujin #lily #haewon #sullyoon #jiwoo #kyujin x reader #angst

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doodler16 · 2 days ago

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i hope this is okay to say here, as i do feel like you're one of the few chill and genuinely non rude but absolutely valid critics of the hellahazbin verse.

I see both sides of critism and just having fun with it. I am one of the few folks that genuinely DO critize it, but in the back of my mind or reblog what i can but i do not go out of my way for it.

With all fandoms, for me its always about the GOOD parts of the fandom, the art, the fics sometimes, the headcanons , the AUs, ( and the good critism or just an analysis in general ).

With both Hazbin and Helluva.. i just. I don't hate the fandom too much other than the hardcore stans who hurt people. But sometimes i feel like the critics and the stans are TOO harsh.

Like i have a "secret" hazbin/helluva blog because thats how hated Viv / Hazbin / Helluva is. It makes me feel bad? And i don't think people should feel bad for enjoying some bits from shitty media.

I don't really like Viv, i just really like some aspects of the shows and SOME of her art.

I don't really know how to word this so i apologize if comes across as "i enjoy this shit show and i blindly watch it" or "oh woe is me i like a bad thing and I'm out casted". I don't really mean it like that either?

I DO see it happen with other shows ( Netflix She Ra for example, for a bit if you liked it you were bad, if you hated it you were bad ???? Its no where near the same has Hazbin or Helluva. ).

But like also i know I'm a hypocrite because i think its really weird for people to like South Park.

You good, Anon. Don’t worry. You should never feel bad or apologize for watching Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. You aren’t the spawn of Satan for enjoying it. If you like both shows, that’s great! Enjoy yourself while you can, make fanart, interact and discuss with the community. Depending on what platform you are on, I think you should embrace it.

Nobody in this fandom is responsible for Vivziepop’s behavior besides herself. Like you said there is good in the community and there is. Many talented, creative artists and writers in this fandom and they still blow my mind (in a good way) till this day. Don’t hide your love or passion for a show just because a creator is being a poopie head or the some people in the standom are being overkill.

#vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #anonymous #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism

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thelovelywriteress · 2 days ago

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꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷

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You never understand your finance. You never understand─KILLUA. Most of times he act like he hate engaged to but whenever a boy approaches you, suddenly he is all over you.

"K-Killua?" You said awkwardly between his arms, which is placed on the bed among your head.

He didn't even said anything and continue staring you with his monotonous eyes. He look like he was trying to read something on your face; his gaze was making you nervous.

"You are so ugly? Why would anyone be interested in you anyways?"

This mere sentence make you so again that you punched him so hard that he flew back and turn your back towards him. He is so rude. Couldn't your parents atleast check how was his personality before engaging him to you.

“Why would you say that? Is that really what you think of me?” Your voice started to break. Killua blinked, surprised by the tears welling in your eyes. “Wait, I—”

“No, don’t,” you interrupted, your voice shaking. “You always say things like this, but do you even realize how much it hurts? You’re so cruel, Killua.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint sound of your sniffles. Then, Killua’s voice came, softer this time.

“...I didn’t mean it like that.”

You froze, his tone catching you off guard. He sounded almost... regretful.

There was silence again but Killua sensed you were calmer and stable then before so he decided to go with casual approach.

“Just wondering,” he said casually, leaning in closer, “why you keep letting random guys talk to you. You are engaged, you know.” Ok it a bit more than casual. You don't know what hearing those words make your cheeks hot.

“I’m bad at this, okay?” he admitted, his voice growing quieter as you back up a bit. “I don’t know how to deal with... feelings. But I didn’t mean what I said. I was just... I don’t know, angry.”

“Angry at what?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “At the thought of someone else taking you away.”

Your breath hitched, his words sinking in. He looked down, avoiding your gaze, as if embarrassed by the confession.

“You know,” he said finally, his voice quieter than before, “it’s not that I hate being engaged to you.” You confessed again as he through his down head, giving him an adorable look.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you quickly shoved the feeling down. “Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, still bitter from his earlier comment.

Killua groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay, maybe I’m bad at this. But... when I see other guys around you, it just... irritates me. I don’t know why, but it does.”

You blinked, turning to face him fully this time. His cheeks were faintly pink, and he avoided your gaze like he’d just admitted something embarrassing.

“Wait... are you jealous?” you asked, your lips twitching into a smile despite yourself.

“Pfft, as if!” he shot back, his voice rising in instant. “Why would I be jealous? I just think most guys are idiots, that’s all.” He was back to his cocky self again but it made you giggle. He's an asshole sometimes but moments like these weight more in your heart.

You wrapped your arms around Killua as you ruffled his hair, feeling delighted by his words.

"My fiancee is an asshole but he's a cute one!" Your exclaimed as Killua felt overwhelmed by both your hug and words.

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So I think this one is in my draft from so long time. And you can even see it through the writting itself (lol😭) Cause I write it at different moment of my life with different intentions. Sometimes it was intended as comedic shot and sometimes I was going for angst.🫠🍮 Hopefully it's cook enough for you Killua girlies ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

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#hxh killua #killua x reader #killua zoldyck #hxh x y/n #hxh x reader #drabble #happy 2025

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holdmytesseract · 5 hours ago

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moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th

Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU

Warnings for this Chapter: none really, bit angst? swear words? Negan's humor

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: This chapter is a weird mix of sadness and fun. I'm sorry. I couldn't stop myself from giving Negan a little cameo. 🫣 Also, I hope you don't mind the lengths of the chapters. Some are quite long, others quite short.

《 M a s t e r l i s t 》

《 Chapter Two 》《 Chapter Four 》

Chapter Three...

... in which you leave your one-night-stand behind but consider the truth behind love at first sight.

Early in the morning - the sun had just started to rise, you were already out of the not really comfortable bed and got dressed; ready to leave. Daryl was still sleeping; both hands buried underneath the pillow as he was laying on his stomach. His broad back on full display. The tattoo on his right shoulder blade illuminated by the first rays of the morning sun. The countless scars on his back left you shocked and speechless - but not necessarily in a bad way. You realised that his past most likely hadn't been easy and you felt sorry for him. You didn't dare to ask him about it, though; not wanting to reopen old wounds or make him feel uncomfortable.

Catching yourself staring once again, you quickly blinked and slipped inside your jeans and boots. Then you stepped over to the bed in order to wake up your one-night-stand. Actually, you didn't want to rip him so rudely out of his slumber, but you couldn't just leave either, could you?

"Daryl," you whisper-yelled; gently tapping his back. The man was a light sleeper as you noticed and woke up instantly.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you, I just... I should get going now. My, uh, my sister is most likely worried sick, so..." Daryl rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his messy curls, as he nodded. "Yeah, 'course," the biker said, turned and sat up, causing the duvet to drop dangerously low - something you found hard to ignore. Good thing you had to leave.

"I hope you'll find Billings this time. Have fun on the rest of your road trip. Thank you for the great evening and the even better night."

Daryl gave you a soft smile; shaking his head. "Nah. Gotta thank you fer the quite pleasurable stay 'ere in Miles City." You reciprocated his smile. "Glad it was."

A moment of awkward silence passed, before you went to grab your things and headed for the door. Your hand was already on the handle; ready to push it down, when you stopped and turned to face the man again. Nervousness and uncertainty was suddenly flooding your veins; contemplating if you should dare to ask what was on your mind. You weren't good at this and you certainly didn't have much one-night-stands in your life...

"Can I... Get your number?"

Daryl moved to sit on the edge of the bed; giving you an almost apologetic smile. "Sorry, cowgirl. Ain't doin' stuff like that."

You felt stupid all of a sudden. Of course he didn't. It was just one night. Just a little fling.

"Right, sure. Sorry," you nodded; faking a smile to hide your embarrassment. "I hope you find your way then." The biker chewed on his bottom lip for a moment; eyes locked on yours. "Yeah, thanks. You too."

With a last smile and appreciating nod, you walked out of the door - and his life.

After a much needed shower, Daryl got dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a loose black sweatshirt. Before he left the slightly shabby room, the biker grabbed his baseball cap and sunglasses; feeling the need to hide the bags underneath his eyes. Well... Sleep wasn't exactly what he got last night... Then he headed for the motel's breakfast buffet, getting himself a cup of coffee, some scrambled eggs and bacon - or well... What was left of it.

The dining area was almost empty. Daryl assumed that the lot of his friends were already finished with breakfast and were packing their things now. The only familiar face he spotted was Negan.

With a grunt, he joined his fellow motorcycle enthusiast, sitting on the table across from him. Negan lifted his head to look at him; an immediate smirk stretching over his face. "Long night?" The man in leather jacket asked; taking a sip of his coffee. "Sorta." Answered Daryl and took a bite of his bacon. "Thought so. Saw you leaving for a smoke yesterday night, but you never returned. Found some good company, eh?" Daryl just grunted in response; sipping on his coffee as well.

Negan took that as a yes.

He leaned back in his chair; grinning. "Was it the black haired lady, who constantly gave you heart eyes from the bar?" The biker shook his head while chewing his food; already slightly annoyed by Negan's questioning. "Then the blonde one who tried to get you to dance?" "Nah," he grumbled underneath his breath. "Alright, alright, hang on for a second..." Negan raised his hand to his chin; scratching his black, greyish beard in a thinking manner. "Was it..." His eyes widened. "No... Or was it? The cute farmer's daughter? In those pretty cowgirl clothes?"

Daryl's almost embarrassed silence was enough answer for his friend. "Hot diggety dog! You really banged the sexy chick? Damn, you lucky bastard!" Negan leaned back in his chair; sighing dramatically. "Not gonna lie, I already thought about makin' a move on her, 'cause she really tickled my balls, y'know that feeling?" He sighed once again; now shaking his head. "And here I was, laying in bed alone with my hand doing all the dirty work; thinking Y/N just left with her sister, yet in truth she was just down the hallway tickling your balls..."

Daryl just kept on munching on his scrambled eggs and bacon; saying not a single word, just subtly rolling his eyes.

Negan leaned over the table then; grinning. "Was she as good as she looked?" "Shuddup," was everything Daryl said before he stood up; finished with breakfast and finally having heard enough. "Oh come on, man. Don't be such a party pooper!" The group leader ignored his comrade and walked away; discarding the empty plate and mug on his way.

After Daryl had packed his things as well and was now getting his bike ready, he saw another one of his biker friends approaching him in the corner of his eyes... Carol.

"You look horrible," was all she said after taking in his appearance; leaning against her own motorcycle. Daryl lifted his gaze at the woman; sunglasses sitting on his head. "Geez, thanks. Good mornin' to ya 's well." She shrugged her shoulders, "Just being honest, pookie." smiling. "Long night, huh?" The biker groaned internally. Why was everybody nagging him about this? "Mhm." Carol laughed. "Well, you're not in your twenties anymore..." Daryl just scoffed at her words; putting the gas can aside and wiping his hands on the red rug dangling from his back pocket.

"I saw her leaving your room this morning..." The man stopped in his movements for a moment; processing Carol's words. "Yeah, so?" He answered nonchalantly; slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes. Carol watched him thoroughly; stayed silent for a moment.

"You like her?" Daryl scoffed; mounting his bike. "Tha' was jus' a one time thing," he stated and whistled at the others that they were finally ready for take off, before he exchanged his baseball cap with the black helmet.

Carol took a deep breath; putting on her helmet as well and getting on her bike, too. "You sure about that, pookie? You two seemed very close yesterday evening." Daryl shook his head; starting the engine. "Nah. It was jus' some fun. Nothin' more. Girl's gonna forget 'bout tha' in no time."

Well...

You didn't.

Not a day later, not even a week later. For you, this short, pleasurable encounter had changed everything. You would've laughed in everybody's face, who told you that love at first sight existed. Not anymore...

You sighed and continued to tend to Arrow; combing his back absent-mindedly.

"You still thinking about that guy?" The voice of your sister urged to your ears; startling you quite a bit. "I-I, what? No." Tess narrowed her eyes; studying your face intensely. "Bullshit. You do," she scoffed; crossing her arms over her chest. "You should stop it, Y/N. Don't you realise? You were a one time thing - a little fling, nothing more. You'll never see that guy again. He played you, sis," Tess pointed out as she passed you by. "You should focus on work here... and your goal to study agricultural economics." You wanted to speak up and say something, but Tess immediately cut you off. "I know you're a grown woman and that you can make your own life decisions, but I'm still your big sister. I promised to look out for you. Mourning after some hill-billy biker won't get you anywhere - but getting that university place will." With those words, Tess left the stables again; leaving you alone with Arrow - and your raging thoughts.

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