#WHAT???? WHO SAID THAT HUHHHHH

[nyxypoo]

big man on his kneesssss

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mr. Ito nods. 

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

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

“Correct.” Satoru simply responds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So take me there.”

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

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

“Whe–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that’s the thing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

“I wanna see Papa!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, Mama?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s poignant.

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

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

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

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

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

But Koji’s all you have.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He notices.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You live here?

Is this even a safe neighborhood?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Koji looks up at him. “Mhm?”

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

“You work today? But Mama doesn’t.”

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

“Special?!”

“Special.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bi-writes]

huhhhhh more bestfriend!roommate!simon x fem!reader because i want them to touch

more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 4/?)

cw: nsfw (18+), suggestive language and content, mature language and content, kissing over the mask, simon "my girl cums first" riley, fem!receiving touching, praise kink, size kink, simon's thicc thighs need a warning, simon "the mask doesn't come off" riley

simon had a bad habit.

a nose-scrunching habit, a oddly pretty habit, a clouding habit.

you shut the door behind you, locking it. you dropped your keys by the door, slipping your sneakers off and hanging your jacket up. you had the day shift today, so simon let you walk home on your own. but he didn't know when you were coming home, and you suspect that's why he was outside on the balcony, a cigarette between his index and middle finger as he leaned against the wall.

you come up to the sliding door, narrowing your eyes before knocking on the glass. simon didn't move immediately, but you saw him turn his face away, tossing the cigarette onto the floor and stubbing it out with the toe of his combat boot. when he turned to look at you, his mask was on, and there was a little apprehension in those dark eyes.

you gripped the handle of the door, sliding it open. he moved to stand in front of you, taking up the entirety of the doorway, broad shoulders taking up the width of the space.

"luv--"

"shut the fuck up, simon," you snapped. you reached over and gripped the front of his hoodie, yanking him inside. he had to maneuver his shoulders to slip inside, and you brought him right up against you so you could glare right up at him. "you know, it's one thing to come back from your boys' nights smelling like it, but in our home?! simon! how many times do i have to tell you that those things will kill you?!"

he sighed, shaking his head a little.

"trust me, luv," he murmured. "this isn't what'll kill me."

"you shut up," you reached up and gripped his masked chin, forcing his eyes on yours. your eyes were a little watery, and your bottom lip trembled. "don't say things like that. don't you dare."

the air was a little stiff. simon was a bit ashamed, averting his gaze. you leaned up and put both hands on his cheeks, putting his eyes on yours again.

"look at me, simon," you said lowly. "i...i cant tell you what to do. i'm not your mother. but i don't like it. its not good for you. i..." you looked down. "i'm sorry. i'm not trying to...i'm not trying to control you, i just--"

"its alright, luv," he quieted you. "it's alright, i know."

you sighed, dropping your hands to rest on his chest. your splayed your palms there, feeling the warmth of him. you held back a smile when you noticed him puffing out his chest a bit, flexing the muscles under your palms as you pressed against solid flesh.

"big, bad lieutenant riley..." you hummed lowly. "nothing can kill you, is that it?"

simon narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side as he grunted.

"dunno what'll kill me, luv, but it won't be a bloody smoke."

you smiled wide finally, your eyes sparkling as you looked towards the kitchen.

"what do you want for dinner, simon? did you go shopping like i asked?"

"'f course i did," he said quickly, his tone nearly offended for even a hint that he you had doubted that he would do ask you asked. you let go of him, making your way to the kitchen. simon let his eyes wander. you were still wearing your uniform from the diner, pretty white and red stripes in the most adorable dress he'd ever seen. he'd curse the man who'd made you wear it the day he saw it the first time; his gaze that couldn't help but follow the valley of your breasts, the way the skirt fell over the curve of your ass--he felt like a teenager fawning over something so trivial about you, so physical and seemingly superficial, but you looked fantastic in it. his beautiful girl, the one he had known since she was only 17, how she grew and blossomed and before he knew, there was no other woman who could take up as much space in his mind as you.

simon had been to many dark places. the dark edges of torture, the narrow walls of being cornered by an enemy, the hot places where hell was just right over the cliff--he was a machine of order and sheer will, he had killed the parts of himself that never quite suited him for war, but somehow, this place with you stayed the same. it was the one constant he knew, the one constant that just never, ever changed, and for that, he was grateful.

you don't think simon riley believes in god. but he believes in you.

simon had been around the world. he had seen the worst of humanity, ripped his own right out of his chest, but none of it mattered as he sat down on the couch he had picked out with you. he remembered when you sent him the pictures of it, your voice on the other line of the phone as you told him how much you liked the pieces. he had been on deployment, and while he could care fuck all about what color the couch in your shared living room was, it was important to you so it was important to him.

"simon?"

your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"simon, could you open that bottle of wine? i need it for the stew."

domestic. fuck, this was too domestic, it was simple, it was calm. simon never flinched, not even when a bullet would hit the wall by his head, but fuck, the sight of you stirring vegetables in a pot in the kitchen of your shared apartment was making his head spin.

simon riley never missed his target. he set his sights on what he wanted, and with the ease and practice of a lieutenant, he crossed another name off his list.

and one could say that his pretty, little roommate, the woman who had been there before the scars and loved him even after them, was another target. your figure was in his sight, but fuck, his hand was shaking.

when the pot was simmering, you poured yourself a glass of wine and came towards him on the couch. simon was sitting, legs spread a little wide, his hands on his thighs as his eyes were fixed on the low hum of the television. you took a seat beside him after setting aside your glass, putting your feet up underneath you and leaning up against his arm.

"simon? everything alright?"

he turned to face you. a low shadow hung over his face, the hood of his jacket making his face appear even darker despite the mask he wore. you reached over under the hood and brushed a few strands of his hair off his forehead, tracing a small scar against his hairline. you smiled at him, running your knuckles down his temple. in the low light, you could barely see even his eyes, but simon spoke so much with just his eyes. they were beautiful. they were alive, had so much emotion, and you wondered always if maybe simon had learned to speak with them knowing it was the only part of him truly visible.

you lowered your gaze as he pressed his forehead to yours. his skin was warm, and you put a hand on his thigh to steady yourself. you swallowed, noticing how much smaller your hand looked next to his. he wore gloves, like always, but it didn't hide the size of him.

lieutenant simon riley. your simon. built like a fucking bear, a mind of impenetrable steel, eyes that had seen the nine circles of hell and wouldn't spill any of their secrets, simon riley who died and a ghost who brought him back and the woman that he dreamed about when they had taken everything from him except his goddamn memories--

he was kissing you. not in the way other men had kissed you, but in the way that simon riley would kiss you. the front of his mask met your lips, a touch of fabric that was warm and soft and melted your insides with a thousand unspoken words. he whispered your name against your lips, a quiet thing that felt like prayer. and maybe it was a sort of prayer, one that only he could make real, one that only he could make sound like faith and all the ugly, sorry truths that it brought with it.

but there was nothing ugly about this kind of prayer. it held no malice. it was pretty and soft and the only kind of word that ever brought him memories and not nightmares.

you were the one to press your lips to his. even through the fabric, it was like kissing someone for the first time. but not just anyone, simon. simon--simon who kissed your tears when you got stood up at a school dance. simon who promised into your hair that he would come back when you discovered the letters about his deployment overseas. simon who beat the manager at the first bar you ever worked at for following you home one night after your shift. simon who died when his family did and then came back, but only within the walls of your shared apartment and nowhere else.

simon, simon, simon--

his hand was under your dress. one gloved palm slipped up the back of your skirt, caressing one side of your ass as he guided you into his lap.

"simon--"

you choked on his name when you felt bare fingers slide over the edge of your panties. you reached up and cupped both sides of his face, whining as he moved his fingers under the fabric. your cunt was wet and glossy, and he pressed his face into the palm of your hand when he realized just how much time he had wasted being anything other than yours. and he had always been yours, but fuck, why hadn't he ever told you?

"youre so pretty, luv..." he smoothed his other hand up your back, tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging just enough to make you moan. "so pretty...so bloody wet...have you always been like this?"

you nod, unable to speak. his fingers spread your puffy folds apart, a soft wet sound that makes you cry. you want him to put those fingers inside of you, to make you ride his hand until you see nothing but white, but you just cant seem to form any words.

"oh, luv...youre a bloody mess..." he chuckled a bit. "fuckin' hell...let me see you--"

he picked up the skirt of your dress, his dark eyes flickering down. he cursed his breath, fisting the lace of your panties and ripping them right off. you whimpered as he tossed them onto the floor.

"christ, luv, can't believe i ever let this cunt be with another man. look at ya. it's fuckin' christmas mornin', aye?"

"you hate christmas--"

"dunno. could be more inclined if i got to have you in the mornin'."

"fuck you--"

"not yet, sweetheart."

simon never really thought you were much of a singer. but the crying and the begging and the moaning was music--and he was learning how to play you just right.

fingers teasing your cunt, he can feel the way your body aches for something more--something big and eager and warm, something that needs you badly, but fuck--you're so pretty with his name in your mouth and your cum on his fingers.

mine, mine, mine--

he grunted when you gripped his wrist, steadying his fingers enough so you could sink down on them. he groaned lowly, watching you tilt your head back and ride his fingers. sinking those gorgeous hips down again and again, putting his hand to use in a way that felt wrong up until now. fuck holding a sniper rifle and putting bad men to sleep--his hand was made to please you, that much was clear to him now.

you were so tight. grinding slow against him, dripping down his fingers, crying out when his thumb moved a gentle circle over your clit and his fingers slipped up enough to graze a pretty spot inside of you.

"nnngghhh--simon--"

"that's it, luv...'s it..."

you laid your forehead against his, nodding along to his words but your thoughts were only on the feeling of him. one finger, a second finger, a third--fucking up into you and feeling the squeezing of your soft walls and touching you in every way that made you dizzy and warm and cock-drunk--

"fuck, fuck, fuck--!"

you sobbed against his covered mouth as you came over his hand, a cloud of euphoria and pleasure and the soft thoughts of him that seemed to string together in some wonderful, hazy picture of him. simon was all hard lines, rough edges, the cut of broken glass or the wrong end of a gun, but it never mattered to you.

simon was the beginning and the end, of what, you weren't sure, but he was the beginning of something and definitely the end of it.

his eyes were on yours, dark, beautiful eyes that never lost their gentleness even when they should've been permanently black with his rage. simon was not angry. simon was not bent on revenge or eager to kill or smiling the face of death.

no, simon was in love. simon was so fucking in love.

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Gojo x Reader

"So there's this new teacher-" Shoko barely got the words out before Gojo was gone, a blur of white hair and boundless curiosity. He didn’t have much time before his next mission, but curiosity burned brighter than any responsibility.

Sliding open the door with unnecessary flair, he called out "Y/N L/N!!!"

You froze, mid-sentence with your students, eyes widening at the sudden intrusion. Slowly, you turned. "Uh... Yes?"

"woahhhh you're h-" Before he could finish, Megumi clamped a hand over Gojo’s mouth and dragged him backward, tossing him out with a sigh. "I'm sorry.. just ignore him.."

You chuckled, nodding. “I guessed as much. He seems... eccentric.”

After that day, Gojo Satoru became little more than a ghost. He drifted through the school on occasion, but missions whisked him away to far-off places. You caught glimpses but never exchanged more than polite nods.

When Gojo returned from a mission, Yuuji greeted him with the news that made his heart sink. “She was only here for a week.”

Gojo's expression fell as he slumped into his seat. “HUHHHHH?! You’re joking.”

Yuuji patted his back sympathetically. “Sensei, it’s okay.”

Nobara, perched with her chin in her hand, shrugged. “She’s from the Fukuoka branch. And rumor says she just got a boyfriend. No chance for you, Gojo.”

Gojo glanced at her with wide, teary eyes. “Ehhhh?!”

Megumi arched a brow. “Why are you so obsessed?”

Gojo sighed dramatically. “It’s rare to meet someone that stunning. I mean—”

“You want to make a Gojo baby with her-” Nobara said bluntly.

Yuuji clamped his hand over her mouth, dragging her out. “Don’t encourage him!” Megumi followed without a word, and the three left Gojo alone, sulking.

Fukuoka, huh? He thought, lips curling into a smirk.

By the time Ichiji realized Gojo had vanished, the sorcerer was already in Fukuoka.

You browsed a small bookstore when someone barreled into you.

Gojo caught you just before you hit the ground. “Ah, sorry! Are you hurt?”

You blinked, recognizing the man immediately. “Gojo? What are you doing here?”

Before he could answer, another man appeared, placing a hand protectively on your shoulder. “Who’s this?”

Gojo’s smile barely wavered. “Her colleague.”

The man offered a handshake. “I’m her brother. Sorry, I thought you were bothering her.”

Gojo accepted the handshake with a tight smile.

Later that evening, you invited him to dinner. Gojo agreed far too quickly.

While waiting for your brother to bring the car around, you shot him a suspicious glance. “Why are you here?”

He leaned lazily against a lamppost. “Where else would I be? I didn’t get to know you, and you already left.”

The dinner passed comfortably, but when Gojo lingered at your doorstep, you shook your head. “Gojo, the higher-ups need you. Go.”

“But Y/N—”

You shut the door, leaving him standing in the cold.

In the following days, Gojo became a fixture at your side, appearing more frequently than his own students.

Your brother, less than thrilled, arranged a blind date to steer you away.

Gojo, en route to his favorite dessert shop, spotted you across the cafe with another man.

His blood boiled. Before he could think better of it, he stormed inside, yanking your hand from across the table.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

His jaw tightened. “I should be asking you that. Who was that?”

“My date.”

“Why?” His voice dropped dangerously low.

You pulled your hand away. “Why not? You never said anything.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “My feelings are obvious, Y/N.”

“You deserve someone better,” you replied softly. “Besides, dating you means dealing with the higher-ups.”

Gojo stepped closer, crowding your space. “So, that’s it? You’d rather settle for him?”

You tried to look away, but he caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your gaze up. “Y/N, you can’t run from me.”

You swallowed, pulse racing. “Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he corrected, voice soft yet commanding. “Say it. Just once.”

The words died on your tongue as he leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re mine. And I don’t let go easily.”

[pagodazz]

ETHAN IM LITERALLY SCREAMING I GOTTA TELL YOU THIS!!!!!

Hozier has a song called “it will come back” and it’s about not feeding wild animals because they’ll come back for more food but there will be nothing there, and it’s an inherently cruel thing to do.

Hozier is so infatuated with this girl who “feeds wild animals” and he keeps crawling back to her every time and he’s like, please let me go but he still comes back.

AND THERES THIS LINE

“Don’t let it in with no intention to keep it, Jesus Christ dont be kind to it, honey don’t feed it, it will come back.” (I think I said it right)

NOW WHO DOES THAT FUCKING REMIND YOU OF HUH HUH HUHHHHH

You don’t understand how fast I ran to tell you this.

MY MIND IS ABSOLUTELY RACCINNNNGGGGG BRROOOOOOO..this has me walking in CIRCLES.

The way Hozier songs are genuinely so 😣 Evan/Vinnie/habit coded.

the way this honestly could go both ways with Vinnie and habit has me on the ground.

I mean genuinely let's think about this,

Vinnie is begging to be set free from habit, but habit keeps giving him MORE AND MORE AND WELL??? HE JUST CANT GET UP AND LEAVE NOW CAN HE??? and when he does escape all it takes is habit to text him to come back and he's COMING BACK TO HIM IN SECONDS.

Vinnie is continuously going to come back to habit no matter what he does to him bc habit gives him content..

NOW ON THE FLIP SIDE OF THIS Vinnie has been giving habit bodies. bodies to torture and kill and eat. He's quite literally, Feeding the habit. (I'm so clever *gets shot*)

Habit comes back for more, yk leading Vinnie to him basically, like yes come to me, give me more, feed me more.

I hate to get theater kid on you but it's like Seymour and Audrey II.

"FEED ME."

"DOES IT HAVE TO BE HUMAN???"

whatever on that back to Hozier.

if I'm wrong on who you were assigning this character to I might. have to sit down for awhile. BUT PLEASE TELL ME IF IM SEEING YOUR VISION

[mowbrayvongothe]

Again another day when I listen to The Magnus protocol and speak my mind freely apologies to those who actively see this and read my thoughts they don’t make sense!

spoilers for The Magnus Protocol 27- Driven below

I’m deeply exhausted today waking up at 5am for results isn’t fine

Results day landing on TMP day is great btw

Also love the sfx

Oh sweet Lena

Lena isn’t too happy

“It is a cluttered eyesore” Lena?

Oh Lena is terrified of the minister nice

Sam why are you a little shit

I love you

Gwen???

Hm

Ha nice Gwen

No Alice?

Ohhh Gwen has many plans love that for her

OH FUCK OFF AUGUSTUS

GOD LEAVE US ALONE

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UPPPPPP GODDDD

Hey voice I don’t know ANYTHING

I’m too exhausted to consume tmp

Thank you to whoever delivers the transcript my mind cannot work without you

Oh wait fuck this is in 1845 I bet you like that Augustus you ancient freak

Chemistry talk again can alchemy calm down

oh I’m tired

Hm alchemy again

Ahhh purification yummy yummy

WAIT

institute? Ahaa

Oh oh nothing I’m calm

CALM.

I’m tagging this after and going to bed

An hansom cab?

Clearances/growlers huh

Oh the background noise

Oh sweet

Haha this sounds like an organ

Oh disappearing? Nice!

Ahhh oh my god

OH IS THAT CAB AND THE COACHMAN KIND OF LIKE A TRAP???

Feels like it if both the cab and the coachman are attached and the trap is easy and ‘fashionable’ travel then it’s easy to take people. Nice.

“Hunting ground” hm weird

This feels like the hunt again

Oh it’s like a Venus fly trap aha nice.

OH MY FUCK

Ohhohoh I love this

“The growler has no need for eyes”

oh this is the hunt please I refuse to believe this isn’t about my baby the hunt

Oh my god

BOYLE???

BOYLE??

Ohhh so he sacrificed someone.

O

The

WHAT

rh

WHAT

WHAT

WHAT FUCKINF EHAT

ESCUSE ME

HA

PAUSE

TIME OUT

MAGNUS INSTITUTR???

EXCUSE ME

Jesus

So whoever wrote this. Founded the Magnus institute

And whoever founded the Magnus institute had a keen eye to sacrificing people for researching and observation

Huhhhhh I wonder who THIS could be referencing

AND I WONDER WHY AUGUSTUS IS READING THIS??

RIP this

AAA

OH

“The rate of digestion is linked to his fear” OH OH OH MY GOD

They said itTHEY SAID IT

LAI LAI TURN THE TV ON THEY HIT THE FUCKIGNKENDND

Oh oh?

Does Gwen want those people dea

YEAHHH ALICEEE

“I’m openly trans on the internet” nice.

Ok so Gwen just wants everything to look nice

So the Magnus institute wanted poisonous washing machines and the ability to look at the stars. Nice!

“Pretty decent sex” nice!

Hilltop centre. WHEN I FUCKING GET YOU.

TREVOR HERBERT????

WHAT THE FUCK

Alice I need you

“More magnussing”

OH OH

OH OA

Alice

ARCHIVIST?? SHES GETTING THE TINFLY FEELING

OH SHES FEELING IT

SHES HAVINF THE SPIDER SENSES

I haven’t collected my thoughts but oh ok that was an episode.

The pre-case is just essentially the whole preparing for the ministers arrival cough Trevor Herbert Jesus fuck.

The case was pretty much as usual their version of the end. I would’ve assumed it was the hunt and was very dedicated to that idea but after the founders experiment we know that the more afraid you were of dying the more they stripped and digested your body down like a Venus fly trap which excretes digestive enzymes the more you move. Which is nice truly this feels like a Venus fly trap situation.

The founder said they were the founder of the Magnus institute and the voice reading this statement out to Sam is possibly Jonah Magnus’ original body. Which makes sense in a way.

The post case was a post case!!!

Gwen got given strange emails with old case files which either means JMJ is giving her important archivist cases or they are giving her trevor Herbert’s statements.

Sam and Celia had a very important convo which was nice and Celia getting straight back into magnussing was great I love that for her

The same few locations that were familiar in TMA are popping up especially ‘Hilltop’

The shopping centre not being used just feels like a drug front but instead of drugs it’s fear

Trevor as MP. Who was predicting this???

I’m quite enjoying the fact that instead of TMA where everyone isolated themselves making them more vulnerable to the fears they all kind of help each other? Will be absolutely lush if they still die though tbh.

Also does Celia get a feeling of dejavu with her TMA-self? She has the sense that these people are helpful and in the TMA-verse they are but in here they aren’t. Especially with her reaction to it being ‘archivist’

Anyways this is great and I didn’t scream at my friend over text because I’m alone in listening this between the two of us if you’re seeing this later I hope you know I’m cursing you

[colemorrison]

“What do you see what you look at me?”

The words made Moira pause, Niran had never spoken to her in such a tone.

“What are you implying?”

“Just answer the question.”

“I…”

She saw a million different things, some too vulnerable to say aloud, some he already knew.

“I see.. Someone who has made me feel emotions I refused to acknowledge before.”

“Do you see me as Niran?”

“That is who you are is it not?”

Moira wasn’t understanding the meaning of this conversation, she didn’t understand what has suddenly made the man she’d grown to love so upset.

“Do you see me as Niran?”

This time the question came out more desperate, he needed to know that Moira loved him as Niran, not what he was before.

“Yes, I see you as the man I… love.”

That made Lifeweaver pause, she… Loved him? They hadn’t said it before, Moira never ready to let the word slip from her lips.

“I love you..”

His voice came out small as he moved forward hiding his face against her, the affection made her pause but slowly her arms wrapped around his body.

“I… Love you too Niran.”

————

Screaming, crying, throwing up, i love them. @bruhhhh-huhhhhh

[gxtzeizm]

i've already said this earlier today in one of the posts that i rebloged but i genuinely need to say it once again because all of us needs to get remind about this thing:

yup, we all are here literally being a hater, we can have an option to either like or dislike someone and of course we all have rights to complain about anything this and that....even idrc when my whole dash is just all filled with haterisms especially during the race/match and after the race/match itself, no matter if that person is my fav or that person is who i hate as well (eventho me personally might getting really overwhelmed with it at some point tbh, but it's just me tho actually don't mind about it okay)

but once again saying....we all need to know the fucking boundaries!!!!!!!!! like be fr tho, harassing and sending actual death threats directly towards them???? are you fucking insane or what huhhhhh????? like please idc if we want to hate on something or someome but please not be an asshole ffs....and if you still thinking that sending death treaths or harrasing someone directly in internet is cool or just for the joke, maybe y'all should consider yourself to stay away from the internet for a bit...take a deep breath, and seek for help if you need to, yup i'm being serious about this istg

[starjxsung]

For me it genuinely feels and looks like Charlie wrote the song, went to Jyp and was like “here’s some money work with me”

And Jyp being Jyp said yes. I also feel like Jyp or whoever saying yes to the collab with him is because he did one with BTS. Bts being the biggest kpop group and basically the founding father of it as whole duh if they collab with an American artist, producers aren’t going to give a fuck if they are bad people they are gonna see money signs because BTS had done it first and it did well, idk if it actually did well or not I don’t keep up with them like that.

But it does feel like Charlie gave them the song he wrote and was like “add to it or not but yep your collabing with me”

It’s just dumb to be how people are saying this is their America debut even tho it’s months after they WON and PREFORMED at the VMAS and Billboard Awards like huhhhhh, they also could have just done an all English single which they have an all English song, example like Super Bowl, MAKE THAT BITCH A SINGLE HELLO ITS A BOP

But yeah, I guess we are all fake stays 😔

Hold on let me get my eyedrops for my fake tears

I also feel like spending money for one song is fucking stupid since they are having a full comeback album soon like HUHHH

- 🧡anon

This !!!!!!! Unfortunately jype is just another money hungry company who actively wants to expand kpop to the west with zero regard for what fans want right now and that comes at the cost of their morals and their collabs ☹️ Super Bowl not being a single was CRAZY 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Still boycotting idgaf what stays think I’m supposed to do to be considered a “real fan” like my morals will always!! come first!!!!!!

ily bby. super bowl Seungmin lives in my head rent free

[inkedmyths]

S1: E22 "Devil's Trap"

Brought to you by hey so each and every one of you who made me watch this. You all suck. This is the worst. I hate it here. What sort of BULLSHIT was that—

This episode featuring: Odd interrogation techniques, family dynamics, bodysnatching, and one deeply upset Ink

Banging opening music

I will not fall doooown... when push comes to shove I will rise above... jammin

Here we fuckin go the boys are off to save or avenge their dad

[ Kayla asks if one of the opening montages has used Carry On My Wayward Son. I said no, because I would definitely remember that. ]

Where are we

What the dog doin

Holy water and whiskey. Mood.

Oh this be Bobby

[ Kayla and Crepe cheer. They love Bobby. ]

SCREAMS. JOHN JUST HAS THAT AFFECT ON PEOPLE (referring to when he threatened to shoot John) oh I like him already

Satanic Roach Hotel

Ohh. Bad year. Most years 4 possessions, but this one had at least 27...... well thats rough

UH OH

MEG

DEAN

Fuck off Meg

"Chuckleheads" GREAT word use Meg

GOTTEM

Okaaaay interrogation time

"Where's our father, Meg"

"You didn’t ask very nice"

"Where's our father, bitch"

Goddammit whys he so funny

Oh shes posessed

I dunno about innocent

Oh good news bc it means they can yeet the demon, yea?

"Hit it Sam" (begins praying)

[ Winchesters latest hit single in Christian Rap sweeps midwestern protestant congregations as a big hit! ]

Dean buddyyyy

Uh getting spookyyyyy

This is wild. Interrogation via exorcism

What the fuck are u gonna do here like what do u do

Shes dead but not but whats up

UHHHH WELL THATS FUCKING. SOMETHING

Hello ma'am

That sucks ass. Being exorcised certainly doesn't seem fun, esp when you got dropped from a building

A year............ bro.......

Poor gal...

As I went down to the river....

Oh she gone.............

:(

:((

STOP ZOOMING IN ON HER DEAD FACE

"You guys think you invented lying to the cops?" lmao thanks bobby

"I won't even try to shoot him this time"

[ Crepe asks Kayla if Meg is the woman Bobby has buried in his garden or if that's someone else. Concerning. ]

SCREAMS hes making the car safe and Dean is like MY CAR

Dean just wants his family to stop being self sacrificing. Hypocrite

Sunrise Apartments!

Building full of human shields... thats a problem

Pull the fire alarm lol

Oh those people are SO posessed

Yep there he is, tied u— hm. I don't. Like that actually

"I've got a Yorkie upstairs, and he pees when he's nervous—" Dean for funniest liar

THEY STOLE THE FIREFIGHTERS FITS

Demon? Demön?

Holy water!!

Hes still breathing hes not dead yet

But he might be posessed

Oh just had to check

Uh oh someone else just got posessed

And another....

Aha... the colt

[ Kayla: Uhhh I'm here for the colt stuff - the Winchesters]

2 bullets left!

Alright. Now what

Fambily

Dean can and will kill for his family huh

Uh oh zappy lights

The demon's here!

Uh oh

Something is wrong

OH

OH SHIT

Sam going AAA

AUGH WHATS HAPPENING

I DONT KNOW

WHAT IS THISSSSS

Bullshit bullshit

Me: DEAN WAS RIGHT

Kayla: and why was he right :)

Me: Bc he would have been pissed :(

Kayla: and never proud :)

Kayla: (therapy voice) and how did that make you feel

Me: I hate it here

Kayla: elaborate on that

Me: I haaaate it here

Kayla: mhm mhm (writing stuff down)

"What are you and God going to do?" dammmn

Justice for WHAT

Oh so a demon cares about its family

Good for him but also you were already trying to kill them before??

Yeah? Why?

What's your angle here

Huhhhhh. What the fuck do you want with Sam

"I really can't stand all your monologuing"

Oooough hitting him where it hurts damn

OOOH DAMN DEAN THROWING SHADE BACK

How are u guys goimg to get out of this

Oh shit oh SHIT

AAAAAAAAA

OH THE LEG!! SMART!!!!!!

Oh fuck man

Bro it fucking leaving

Well this is an Awkward Family Ride

Kayla: awkward family ride abt to

TRUCK

What the fuck what the fuck

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS

BRO WHAT

THATS IT FOR SEASON 1??

BULLSHIT

---

My so-called friends then proceeded to point, laugh, and heckle me for the next 10 minutes. This is bullshit I hope you know. Stupid goddamn cliffhangers stupid Winchesters and their STUPID FAMILY NONSENSE—

[kawaii-night666]

3-Kageyama turns into a kid!

Morning comes you will see a young Tobio sleeping so cutely as he then rubs his eyes to look around his room as he sees no Kitagawa Daiichi volleyball uniform as he sits up fast as lightning as he gets put his bed to try to look for it as he pouts as he got ready, he thought 'Why my clothes so short?' He tilts his head to the side as he shrugs it off and goes downstairs to try and find his Ojīchan and Miwa-nēchan as he tries find him Tobio tries call for him "Ojīchan! Nēchan!"

Tobio tries to find him and his sister, he then runs off outside to try to find his Ojīchan and nēchan but not before he bumps into someone.

And that stranger happens to be Semi Eita from Shiratorizawa, Eita looks down and saw a kid who looks awfully look like Kageyama as he bends down and said "Are you alright?" as he heard a sniffle from Tobio even though Eita doesn't know because Tobio looking down on the ground as he tries to see his face. "Let me see, where does it hurt?"

Tobio lift his head to look up at Eita who look shock to see THE Kageyama Tobio, setter, first year of Karasuno, Eita looks at Tobio but he can't help and thought 'How did he turn into a kid? This is impossible right. I'm seeing things.' As Eita was lost in his mind Tobio sniffle and then lift his arms asking to carry him.

Eita then snaps out of it then carries Tobio in his arms as he said "Umm Kageyama how did you become like this."

Tobio look at the stranger as he tilts his head as Eita cooed at him when Tobio tilt his head like a puppy as Tobio mumbles but Eita can hear him loud and clear, "How do you know my last name, stranger-san?" Tobio pucks his lips out that looks like a pout as Eita can't help find it cute to see this reaction but he then thought 'Wait what! He doesn't know who I am? Well now that you think about it, he does look like an elementary kid. So, he doesn't have any memories of anything.' As Eita look down at Tobio who clenching his shirt tightly as he replies "Well, umm your parents ask me to pick you up and look after you."

"Ohhh so you're my babysitter! But, what about my nēchan and Ojīchan."

"Well, they text me before hand to come and get you." Eita smiles at Tobio as he thought 'Why is he so cute! And wait he lives with his Ojīchan and nēchan.' Eita stills hold onto Tobio as he asked him "Kageyama where is your house, I forgot it." Tobio then points at where to go as Eita still carries Tobio in his arms as he walks to his house as he enters as he tries to find clothes for him but not before he saw a shrine and a picture who looks like older man then he realises something 'So that's Kageyama Ojīchan.'

While Eita got things that Tobio could wear he then close the door and finds the key and locks it then hides the key so no one can find it as he then walks off to Shiratorizawa with Tobio in his arms, as they both came in view into the school Tobio have sparkles in his eyes as he looks around as Eita saw this and awed at Tobio reaction as he saw his team waiting for him, oh great Eita knows he will might get scolded by the demon coach.

Tendo shouts which attract the other volleyball players as they saw Eita holding who seems to be Kageyama Tobio, they all look shock even the two coaches as Eita said "I'm sorry I'm late and as you guys can see -nod at Tobio- this is well Kageyama Tobio."

"Huhhhhh!" They thought they were dreaming but they not as they saw Kageyama as a kid but what will his team and other team will think when they saw him, but they can't deny Tobio does look cute as they all thought 'Why does he have to be cute!' 'This is illegal to be this cute and adorable!' 'We should take him in to Shiratorizawa.'

Tobio then look at them as he has sparkle in his eyes as he asking to be led down which Eita obeys and puts Tobio down as Tobio goes straight to Ushijwaka Wakatoshi as Tobio said excited "What position do you play?" Tobio looks up at Wakatoshi as he looks down at him with his well usual face but he can't help lift his lips upward a bit at Tobio reaction.

"I'm the ace."

"Wahhhh! Really!" Tobio answered as Tobio then said "Then do you go like pow! And Wosh!"

All the players aww while Tendo takes a video of Tobio when he said this to Wakatoshi. As Eita then said "Come on Kageyama lets get you in the coach." Tobio heard what Eita said as he rushes to him who have his arms out for him to jump in as he snuggles Eita couldn't help to smile as he takes Tobio with the others following behind while everyone and yes even Shirabu who takes picture as they all go themselves settle in the coach, they drive to training camp.

"By the way, what about Kageyama team?" asked coach Saito "Should we notify them that Kageyama with us."

Coach Washijo let out a hum as he replies "I already message their coach that Kageyama is with us besides they will meet him at the camp but they be in a shock when they all going to see him as a kid."

As they all their destination Tobio can't help look excited as he said as he points outside the window "Look its so pretty."

All of them can't help to smile at this but as they park the coach, they all get out the vehicle as Tobio jumps off the coach as Eita said "Be careful okay!" All different waiting for Shiratorizawa as for Karasuno they waiting for Kageyama but as they finally arrive what all shock them all is a kid who has a similar resemble of Tobio as Oikawa said "IS THAT TOBIO-CHAN!"

Everyone snap out of their daze as they saw the resemble of Kageyama as Koshi then walks fast towards them and bend down to Tobio level and smiles sweetly at him "Hello I'm Sugawara Koshi, is it alright if I carry you." Tobio then nods at Koshi as Koshi smiles at Tobio but deep inside he can't help himself to hug Tobio and his cuteness as he hugs him. "Your so cute."

Shiratorizawa look at the scene before them and thought 'That's Karasuno vice-captain.' Atsumu then saw kid Tobio and wanted to kidnapped him...I mean to hold him. While his twin look at his own twin but he knows what he is thinking he also wants to do the same even everyone wants to hold Tobio or kidnapped him.

Well, it looks like Tobio is going to have a fun ride...

➶➶➶➶➶ //////////////////////////////// ➷➷➷➷➷

Author-san: Hi guys chapter 3 is here hehe

Tobio: .....

Eita: You sure r a cute kid

Satori: I agree with Semi Semi

Eita: Stop calling me that!

Author-san: Oof don't be like that Tobio, it just a story and also stop teasing Satori

Eita: Thank you

Satori: I think about it

Tobio: I'm not cute...

Author-san: Are u pouting over there

Tobio: Shut up boke!

Author-san: Is boke only your vocabulary

Anyways whose excited about christmas!

Kei: What r u a kid

Author-san: 🙂

Tadashi: Tsuki!

Kei: What

Author-san: Kei open up!

Kei: WTF

Koshi: Language!

Daichi: Language!

Shinsuke: Language!

Kei: What r u doing hakdhisd

Kei logs off

Author-san logs off

Tetsuro: Rip Tsuki

Tobio: He deserve it anyway

Tadashi: Kageyama

Tobio: What

Kenma: Anyways hope u guys like this chapter

Everyone except myself and Kei: See you in the next chapter!

Kotaro: Do you think Tsuki be alright? Aggashi

Keiji: Who knows and please spell my name right Bokuto-san

Daichi: Lets all go back to practice! Now log off

Tooru: But I'm the captain

Tetsuro: same

All captains: 👆

Shinsuke: Everyone just log off now otherwise they will be consequences

Everyone logs off except Daichi and Shinsuke

Daichi: Good work

Shinsuke: Same goes to you too

Daichi & Shinsuke logs off

[flwrcassette]

okay since ranboo is SUPPOSEDLY gonna play Jazzpunk again in a future stream i’ve taken it upon myself to watch the vod for the first time. Here are my reactions to different parts of the stream-

enjoy my inner dialogue ^-^

(18:56) - Why is he slapping her??? “acquired taste…I kinda like this” HUHHHHH?? I NEED A SECOND TOO….aYo-

(28:24) ACAB!!! ACAB!!! ACAB!!! (Ranboo is currently being beaten by a robo cop)

(42:01) AW LESBIANS!! NO SHE DIED.. “Aw man, i had a crush on her -Dot Netrix after Synthia gets crushed by the vault door-“

(52:05) all i’m saying is that if a guy offers you a cup of a mysterious white liquid- DONT DRINK IT. (it was pigeon milk????)

(58:28) “i will be your dedicated servant tonight..” EXCUSE ME????

(1:02:58) omg guys…it’s a benis….hehehehe.

(1:27:46) AYY! THERES A PIG ON WHEELS??? i can only hope to be that cool…

(1:37:55) Black and white talking koala bear? Monokuma lookin ahh-

(1:44:10) why was ran given a ukulele to kill the pig…they don’t have to apologize for anything /j

* unrelated break…why does it say “Sus Today” and not “Subs Today” ?????

UPDATE; i fell asleep around 2 hours. erm…so here are my final thoughts after rewatching what i slept through. I am extremely excited to see this chaotic game be played again LMAO and for the people who said this was their favorite vod- you’re based. and correct. Felt like i was high the entire time.

[khodorkovskaya]

20.08.23

lots of things to tell you guys!

crazy church drama! the girls are fighting!!!

lucien is in montenegro and im jealous

i got skinnyshamed at a buffet

i went to a really interesting presentation about eco-architecture

mum's birthday

so number 1. father emilian was looking rough today, he was all sweaty and not looking his best. but i was like me too king, i wore a linen dress and sweated all over it and it was v visible and v embarrassing but hey it's 38 degrees today who cares.

but anyway yeah, he was looking rough.

and at the end when he was giving his little speech he said that something happened that touched his heart to the core. apparently someone created a different orthodox parish and he was not invited! someone literally opened another orthodox church and doesn't want to be friends with him! i mean its giving martin luther.

so basically someone created a ukrainian orthodox facebook group. and it's all against the law and it's all heresy and they sing the ukrainian national anthem during mass. and father emilian was like "brothers and sisters in christ, why do you hate us?" and he had to take a break during his speech cos he started crying. and i was like oh my god the girls are fighting.

and he was like "yeah, we're friends with the ethiopian orthodox church. we're all brothers in christ despite our skin colour and we're friendly. and these guys didn't even invite us. we should all be friends!" so yeah he was very upset.

but then again, not that i don't trust father emilian. but he's a bit of a drama queen. so i wonder what really happened behind the scenes. and he's not russian himself. so like. whats all this drama about then.

anyway, yeah. dramaaaa

2. would you believe it, lucien is in montefuckingnegro! yeah! where my father lives! that would be such an epic crossover omg.

and here's the thing. i have a conspiracy that it's all his wife's plan to spite me.

because look.

when lucien and i went to skating camp she was really upset. their whole divorce drama thing started because he paid for me to go to skating camp. and we like went together and met his parents and all. and she was really upset and rightfully so.

when i was there i filmed a music video to "sanjam" by lepa brena. and lepa brena and i go way back. i am her number one fan, i love her, she's my queen. and i love all the turbofolk girlies, i know my balkan herstory. like. budva is my 2nd home okay. i have a deep and twisted relationship with the balkans. im not a fake fan, you know?

so i posted that music video. and literally last week lucien's wife starts posting turbofolk girlies on her story. she posted seka aleksic with the caption "need me a retreat in the balkans" and girl come on, thats what i would post!

and two days later, guess where she is??? at the seka aleksic concert in budva!

like girlie just discovered turbofolk and now she's touring the balkans. im not saying she did it to spite me. but like i am the number one balkans fan, okay? a balkanboo if you will. and it hurts to see others living your dream.

anyway, im happy for her i guess.

3. so we went to this event organised by a political party. and they had a buffet with like salads and meats and cheeses and stuff. so i was there with my plate and the lady serving me looked at me and said "oh you must be vegetarian" and put salad on my plate. and i was like huhhhhh??!!?!?,,,

what's weirder is that she's a medical professional apparently. like. come on im not that skinny. so yeah i didn't say anything, except like "haha no, could i have some meat too please". but panda wanted to tell her off.

4. so yeah about the political party event, there was a presentation about eco architecture and it was so fascinating! i sat there with my mouth open. like it was so interesting. it was about how we can build energy efficient and even energy positive houses and it's cheaper that way too. and the guy also talked about the golden ratio and geobiology and i was like oh my god is it too late to be an architect i want to be an architect.

5. it was mum's birthday yesterday! we went to yvoire in france and walked around and had dinner there. i ate so much omg. it was so good!

[charmed-asylum]

ANDYYYYYYYYYY REALLY AHHHH ( kick a rock super duper soft bc I don’t want to hurt myself) FUCK HUHHHHH OMG THE WAY SUSAN said that line

Like ohhhh that a shiver. But reader right he not gonna stop he gonna press he gonna find away in. I’m surprised he can’t find the reader by that search 👀. But good good good. Andy fuck up but damn he I like u but acted like w little child in a playground routine really showing princess the touch the I save u ohhhh a chill a chill . AND WRAPPING MARVEL CHARACTERS I scream n cried all morning || Quentin Beck!!!!! Her ex is Quentin Beck ahhh I’m gonna pass out okay hear me out but my ( not so tiny ) child ( one of five) crush is showing and I scream but no lie JG does have the ability to have that look huh Donnie Darko and Night movie he did. Huhhh the chills the chills.

Still he now w the thanks of seeing the ex see NOT ALL MARRIED WOMEN WHO GET DIVERSE IS A FUCKIN BITCH LIKE UR EX ANDYYYYY!!!!! I wonder tho what happened like did beck see her talk to Tony and got mad or jelly. Thor allow her to stay at her house does that mean he know where she is waitttttttt so PETER AND NED DO THEY KNOW HER FROM BEFORE OR SOMETHING AHHHHHG IM SO INTO THIS MOVIE

Jerk next door (3) - The jerk and his rules

Summary: You move in next door to a jerk after a bad breakup.

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of past domestic violence (implied), mentions of divorce, Andy being a jerk, mentions of past physical abuse, abuse of power (not Andy), a tiny hint of soft Andy

A/N: Please head the warnings for this story. I mention domestic violence.

Jerk next door masterlist 

<< Part 2

Keep reading

[colemorrison]

It's crazy that it's the end of the year already.. Tumblr has given me so many friends and memories.. This sounds like I'm leaving huh?

I'm not I promise! I love what I've built here, I adore the people I've met. I've met my girlfriend on here, my brother, friends..

Everything I have made here is home..

I'm not so good with words but this is coming to me surprisingly smoothly, I'm trying not to make this all about Yazz honestly.. I have so many things to say about her to her but I suppose not all of you need to know those things haha.

First up though my big brother.. @bruhhhh-huhhhhh, we haven't technically known each other long, you'd been following me for quite some time, before I ended up falling in love with your works and following you back. I'm a fanboy honestly, I wanted to reach out and talk to you more but I never knew the right words or if it was okay. Be thankful Yazz told me to do it otherwise I never would have and we would never be at this point.

I love our silly conversations and the ideas we share, how we talk about being absolute lovesick fools, nerds for overwatch and hot women. How you have never judged me for the ways I show affection, how you accepted the invite into my silly little family with no hesitation, how you're always so eager to request from me or make continuations because you genuinely enjoy my writing.

I'm really grateful to be ending the year with you as my big brother, let's get McDonalds and discuss Yeehan ideas at some point yeah?

Now @ya-zz.. I'm gonna try really hard not to make this excessively long because I think everyone knows how much I love you to begin with but I can't not include you in a post like this so..

When I sent that first message, all that time ago I thought it was a one and done thing. Then we kept talking, we talked for hours everyday... Well when we could I mean.. You were so busy with work and I was busy with getting my shit together and now.. Now I spend my days talking to you and if we are unable to talk I look at your pictures, listen to voice notes because I want to spend all my time with my girl.

I know there's been some scares and moments where we thought everything was gonna crumble but it hasn't and it won't. It's hard to find someone who loves you unconditionally and is willing to talk about everything needed with you, someone who wants the relationship to work. But you.. I want it all with you and I know we've said that a million times, I'll say it a million more.

I love you Yazz, let's see how much trouble we can start this year yeah?

Before I get even more emotional I'm leaving this here, I fucking love you both so much. Happy new year <3.

[berryunho]

guys help its 2am and I'm in my yunho feels