#and then i thought “what if i do the same thing but in his child form ...”

[kingkaisen]

୨୧ FAMILY CHAOS ୨୧

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: one year ago, you & your husband, Satoru, adopted two of his teenage students, Yuji & Megumi. Also, your biological daughter is now five years old, and it seems that every member of the Gojo household is experiencing their fair share of troubles and keeping secrets, yourself included. What exactly is going on this week?

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY || fluff, angst, brief description of smut, brief descriptions of violence, canonverse, fem reader, mentions of depression, skipped meals, & suicidal thoughts, pregnancy, & gojo being the best dad and husband ever!

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: . . . 9k . . . :)

♡ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this fic is part of my dad!gojo series, but reading the other parts isn’t necessary. || artwork by @/3-aem, ribbon dividers by @/cursed-carmine!

YOUR STORY — DAY ONE

Two positive pregnancy tests rested in the palm of your hand, one showing two vertical pink lines, while the other casually presented the utterly life-changing word: Pregnant.

How unsurprising.

It was only a matter of time — after all, your husband was like an animal, tossing, turning, and twisting you every possible way whenever he could get some alone time with you.

It was impossible to know which night of love-making had led to your current conundrum: Was it the night all of your kids spent their Saturday evening elsewhere? Or, perhaps, the time Satoru had you in a mating press position on a hotel bed? No, it had to have been the time he returned home from a mission amidst your solo shower, and his lack of patience led to him slipping in behind you, and furthermore, slipping into you, all the while his hand-

“Ready?”

Satoru’s voice suddenly snapped you out of your thoughts. He stepped out of the master bathroom, buttoning up his shirt as he walked. You quickly hid the pregnancy tests under your thigh while his all-knowing blue eyes weren’t on you.

“Ready for what?” You said nervously.

“Don’t tell me the same person who rambled on and on about wanting to go to the festival already forgot about it,” Satoru glanced at you briefly. He approached your dresser, grabbing his blacked-out sunglasses. “The kids are waiting. I don’t think Yuji’ll be too happy if he misses the lantern show. And you and I need to do that thing where we share a churro and kiss at the end-”

“Okay, okay, I’m almost ready.”

Despite your words, you hadn’t yet risen from your spot on the edge of the bed.

Satoru turned to face you. He frowned with concern. “You alright?”

The truth was that you weren’t ready to tell Satoru that, soon, there would be another addition to the Gojo household. Your hesitation was odd. This was something you both wanted, and yet . . .

And yet, the news, while delightful, was also worrisome, as the Gojo household was currently experiencing its fair share of troubles within the past couple of months — and you weren’t quite sure what adding a newborn baby to the mix would do.

Stressful times tended to occur when over half of the beloved household fought curses and curse users, both of which were more active during the summer season.

Satoru was occasionally away on important trips to other countries and continents. Your adopted teenagers, Megumi and Yuji, — who had been part of your family officially for a solid year now — were often injured in battle. Meanwhile, Maya, your biological daughter, was arriving closer and closer to starting elementary school.

Your little girl learning all sorts of things about math, animals, and books that were longer than ten, twenty pages was a beautiful sight to see.

She was no longer a toddler, but rather, a child now, and was learning all sorts of things such as numbers that went beyond ten, beyond twenty, and even beyond fifty. There were animals — insanely cool ones, more exciting than the cows and sheep she learned about in preschool — who lived in either the forests or the sea!

There were moments of tragedy of course, such as the day she learned that her dear parents, her beloved mom and dad, were not named Mom and Dad.

Oh, the poor girl cried and sobbed, her chubby cheeks puffy and wet with tears, all while Satoru held her and softly explained to her that he would always be her daddy, she would always address him as so, but in truth, his name was Satoru Gojo.

And your name was not simply Mom or Mommy.

What a troubling day.

But that part was fine. Everything from giggling while you or her dad marked her height by using a pencil to draw a line above her head on her doorframe, enthusiastically saying, “you’re getting so big now!” to learning to sing and dance along to classic Barbie films, to crying her eyes out when she fell down during a game of tag with her friends were all parts of getting older, and it was fine.

Her having to go days or weeks at a time without seeing her dad was not.

Having to soothe her worries and fears whenever Yuji and Megumi returned home from missions with new scars and scratches decorating their skin was not.

And, worst of all, her becoming aware of her own cursed energy and being able to see those terrifying creatures was not.

A few weeks ago, after Maya saw her very first curse across the street while going down a slide at a playground, Satoru had to sit his daughter down and explain everything to her. It was a task that broke his heart.

Afterwards, he crawled into bed with you, sighing heavily.

“She was just learning about the alphabet around what, one, two, three years ago?” Satoru exhaustedly rested his head on your lap, staring up at you with sad, blue eyes. “God, I can’t keep up. She’s growing up so fast. And now she’s seeing curses. I knew this day would come, but now her childhood will never be the same.”

You turned on the lamp on your nightstand with a light tap at the base of it. With your other hand, you gently stroked the spot between Satoru’s furrowed brows with your thumb as his long legs stretched out across your enormous bed.

“We just have to teach her not to be afraid of them. Just as we explained what curses are, we have to explain to her who she is.”

The daughter of the world’s strongest sorcerer, she was.

“I thought I was ready for this. Looking after Megumi when he was a kid, learning about his power, and trying to protect him from that sick Zenin clan . . . thought that experience would prepare me for this. I thought I was ready, but I’m not. Now we have to teach our muffin and protect her from the jujutsu society as a whole.”

“Tell me about it,” you frowned. “I get at least ten emails daily from the higher-ups, all of them wondering if she’s ready to start training. She’s five years old. I told them all to go to hell.”

Satoru laughed softly, then he yawned before he started to speak again.

“I’m sure she’ll want to become a sorcerer, but if she does, I want it to be her decision. I don’t want her to feel pressured to follow in my footsteps, get what I mean?”

Your fingertips started to mess with the strands of Satoru’s white hair.

“I think the best choice would be to work with her, make sure she understands what curses are and what she can do, but also do everything we can to give her a normal life. I don’t care if she learns a cursed technique before she learns how to multiply, but no one will take her childhood away from her.”

With that, you and Satoru sealed off the end of your conversation with a kiss, but nothing more, as about five minutes later, gentle pitter-patter could be heard from the hallway as your daughter made her way to your room and hopped into your bed, snuggling right in between you and Satoru.

After seeing her first curse, she was much too scared to sleep alone.

Dealing with Maya’s current situation had your hands full. Along with all the additional chaos surrounding your entire family, you were also busy being the multitasking mother and wife everyone needed you to be. Keeping everyone fed, healthy, and happy was quite the challenge, especially when you could do very little to keep them safe in a world possessed by such evil — and they were the ones who had to fight against it. Not to mention the horrific fact that your son was quite literally possessed by the embodiment of evil — Sukuna.

Oh! And if that wasn’t enough, Satoru’s other students, old and new, often came to you for motherly love and affection they could never experience elsewhere. Though you welcomed everyone with open arms, you were tired.

Tired, and, apparently, pregnant.

—

“Alright, everyone ready? Everyone have their coats? Anyone have to pee before we hit the road?” Satoru, who stood before the double front doors of your home, scanned his watchful eyes over the bunch.

“The festival’s only fifteen to twenty minutes away,” Megumi said.

“And I bet Yuji’ll have to pee in ten.” Satoru darted his eyes across the dark-haired boy’s casual outfit, which amounted to a short-sleeved black shirt and a pair of grey jeans. “And you’re not wearing a coat.”

Suddenly, Satoru felt a tiny tug at the back of his pants leg. Turning around, he caught sight of Maya — just when did she get behind him?

With a smile, he reached down to ruffle the young girl’s hair, noting the nervous look on her face. After her first experience with a curse, it was quite rare for the young girl to not have eyes that glistened with pure fright.

“At least this one’s being so well behaved, aren’t you, muffin?” Satoru said sweetly.

“Can you pick me up?”

“Of course, sweet girl, hang on.” Satoru raised and turned his head to where Yuji was standing. “Yuji, did you-”

He cut himself off. There was nothing except an empty space where Yuji once stood. “Where’d he go?”

“Bathroom,” you mumbled.

“Right,” Satoru gave you a quick smile — he noticed your silence today. It was nice to hear your voice at all.

Looking at his other teenage son, or, rather, his uncovered arms, Satoru said, “Megumi, go get your coat.”

“But I’m not cold.”

“You can thank our new heated floors for that, but it’s cold outside, buddy, and you had a fever a couple days ago. I don’t want this bipolar weather making you sick again.”

“Cold weather itself doesn’t make someone sick, it’s actually-”

“I’m back!” Yuji’s sudden appearance interrupted Megumi.

“Daddy, pick me up! Pick me up!” Maya whined, tugging on Satoru while her small feet impatiently tapped against the floor; the new, heated one, which was part of the renovations made to your home last month. More chaos.

“Hold on, forgot to wash my hands. Be right back,” Yuji suddenly said, and vanished as quickly as he had arrived.

Satoru didn’t sigh with annoyance, didn’t let his face reflect even the slightest hint of frustration. Instead, he continued to grin, handling the chaos just as easily as he handled curses.

“Come here, I gotcha,” Satoru lifted Maya, holding her in his arms. “Ya know, daddy’s gonna have to put you down to drive, right?”

“No!”

Maya leaned her head against his shoulder. Satoru turned to face Megumi yet again, noticed his lack of a coat yet again, and said playfully, “Megumi, put on a coat or jacket or else I’ll ground you for twelve to fifteen years, kid.”

“Fine,” the teenager rolled his eyes before walking off.

Gently, Satoru gave his daughter’s chubby cheek a little pinch — she squealed from the ticklish feeling — and he then placed his large hand over the little ear that wasn’t leaning against his shoulder before he shouted, “anyone who isn’t in the car in the next three minutes is getting left behind!”

“I would’ve been in the car if you weren’t making me grab a coat,” Megumi called back.

“You’ll thank me when you’re not dying of pneumonia,” Satoru shouted, then mumbled under his breath, “again.”

And with that, you watched as, somehow, someway, Satoru effectively managed to get a moody teenager, a hyper one, a clingy child, and you, his oddly quiet wife, to the annual Night Lights Festival.

—

The lakeside festival was a crowded, yet beautiful display of festive red and yellow decorations and lanterns that brightened the night sky. Live musicians banged on drums or strung their instruments, playing upbeat tones. A parade of dancers passed by, and lively chatter surrounded you.

Around thirty minutes into the festival, Yuji’s face was decorated with face paint, neck adorned with beads and necklaces dancers tossed at him, blush-pink hair covered by an enormous red and yellow hat, and he held a bag of popcorn in one hand and his favorite soda in the other.

Megumi, on the other hand, wasn’t a fan of the large crowd and never-ending music. He did, however, notice a person doing magic tricks with their two enormous dogs, and he stopped to watch the show. Maya, who was previously sitting on her dad’s shoulders, eagerly climbed down, eager to watch the dog show as well.

And by then, Yuji had seen something exciting and ran off. Yet again.

That left you alone with Satoru. Your smiling husband took hold of your hand. Though you gave him a smile back, it didn’t reach your eyes, and he could tell.

Guiding you away from the flow of traffic and closer towards the red bridge that stretched over the beautiful lake with lights dancing above the water — where fewer people mingled, fortunately — Satoru said, “What’s the matter, baby? You’re awfully quiet.”

“Sorry,” you shrugged, unable to look him in the eye. Not while you were telling a lie. “I was just thinking about how well you handle our chaotic family.”

“You know me. Handling chaos is just what I do. I think part of me loves it, actually, considering we’re trying to add on a new member to the family.”

His words made your heart skip a beat. The topic of pregnancy and having another child was nearly a daily discussion between you and Satoru, that was a fact, but now, when your pregnancy test came back positive and you hadn’t yet found the nerve to tell him, hearing those words struck a chord of fear within you.

“I don’t know, honey. I thought that I could handle all this. Don’t get me wrong, please don’t get me wrong, but . . . Megumi and Yuji are at that age where fighting curses is the last thing they need to worry about. Being a teenager is rough enough as it is. Megumi’s attitude is-is just . . . and Yuji stinks sometimes no matter how often he bathes. He just stinks. And seeing them and their friends covered in wounds after a mission . . . it’s just too much. I can’t help but wonder if we’re mature enough to handle it. It’s not like we’re the same age as most parents who have teenagers. Remember what happened a couple of months ago when I treated Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi to the movies and a shopping spree? Two cashiers at two different places thought I was friends with all of them. Friends!

Then there’s Megumi’s depression. I’ve been researching therapists, specifically ones I trust who work with young sorcerers, but there’s only like, two. And I doubt I could get him to talk to someone anyway. Oh, and while I was doing the laundry the other day, I found a crumpled-up piece of paper with a phone number written on it in Yuji’s pocket. I’m thinking a girl gave it to him. That means it’s time to talk to the boys about dating and everything that comes with it, right? I mean, we pretty much raised Megumi long before we adopted him, so I-I know he’s . . . educated, but what about Yuji? Do we just assume that his grandpa taught him everything he needs to know about, well, everything? What if his grandpa taught him things that we’d disagree with morally? No . . . Yuji’s a sweet kid, I doubt that.

I don’t know, I’m just so overwhelmed. Then there’s Sukuna, and what the higher-ups want to do to Yuji because of Sukuna . . . is that why we adopted him? To give him a good life before he’s executed? Or did we truly think we could find a way out of this? Because I love him more and more with every passing day and . . . and don’t even get me started on everything going on with Maya right now.

I don’t just mean the curse thing, either. My friend Jane told me that she stopped carrying her son when he turned four. Maya’s five now, and it seems like she doesn’t ever want to be put down. I have no idea if that’s normal. She’s a sweetheart, and she’s always been a bit clingy and sensitive, but there are certain things that-that she hasn’t grown out of yet and with this curse bullshit, she’s even more dependent on us than what my research says a five year old should be. I bet you being away for weeks at a time is part of it. I know I cling to you like a koala to a tree when you come back home, and part of that is because I’m always so terrified of what might happen to you while you’re away. I love you too much. The idea of something happening to you kills me, Satoru.

I thought that I was this amazing person who could take care of everyone who stepped through our door, but here I am, freaking out while we’re just trying to enjoy a nice festival. Maybe I should just-”

“Momma! Dad! There you are!” Yuji suddenly returned, this time, with a tiny tray of lantern-shaped cookies and a bag of souvenirs. “C’mon, the lantern show’s about to start!”

The excitable teenager once again started to dash away, and you started to follow, when Satoru’s large hands suddenly grabbed onto your shoulders, halting your footsteps.

“Hey, hey, wait,” he said. His fingers found your chin, turning your head in his direction. He planted a kiss that held all the gentle love he felt for you right on your lips. “I hear you, sweetheart. We’ll talk about it later, alright?”

“You say that as if we can ever have a moment of peace and quiet, but thanks for listening.” You gave him a sad smile, and he kissed you yet again.

The night ended with you and Satoru holding onto a beautiful lantern and releasing it together into the starry night sky. Watching your lantern join the countless other ones in the sky as you leaned against your husband’s chest was a temporary moment of relief from the chaos.

MEGUMI’S STORY — DAY FOUR

It happened.

The breaking point.

The final straw.

Reaching the limit — whatever it was, it happened.

Megumi told you something the day after the Night Lights Festival. Something that he now regretted as he slipped on his black hoodie.

“Megumi, let’s go!” You shouted from the foyer.

As you waited for him, your eyes darted up at Satoru, who was adjusting the hood on your head. It was a rainy, gloomy day, after all. Oh, a gloomy day it was.

“Hey, it’ll be alright. I know it. And I know you’re busy, but when you have the time, we should talk. We never finished our conversation from the other day. The one we were having at the festival,” Satoru said.

“Right, well,” you paused, hearing Megumi’s quiet footsteps approaching. “It’ll have to wait.”

“Let’s go,” you said to Megumi, all the while trying — trying — to ignore the pained look of betrayal in his eyes.

—

The car ride was a long, quiet one.

The atmosphere was tense. Odd. Heartbreaking. Therefore, you clenched the steering wheel and made the tough decision to speak to the boy in the passenger seat.

“Megumi? After your session, I was thinking we could stop by a bookstore, see what’s new in the nonfiction section. Get some black coffee, pick up some ginger chicken, whatever you want.”

“Sure.”

“And don’t worry. The first session is usually nothing more than you and the therapist getting to know each other. And the psychiatrist will mainly just ask you a bunch of questions. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

“Alright.”

You slowed to a stop at a red light. A sigh escaped from you.

“I know you don’t wanna go, but we’re doing this ‘cause we care about you. We’re worried about you.”

Megumi turned his gaze away from the raindrops on the car window. A therapist. A psychiatrist. A collaborative care plan.

“You think there’s something wrong with me.”

“No, not at all!” You looked at him, your eyebrows pinched. “You’ve gone through a lot, and there’s nothing wrong with needing some help. Everyone needs it at some point.”

“I haven’t gone through anything Yuji hasn’t, and I don’t see him in the car.”

You were silent for a moment. Nothing could be heard except for the raindrops splattering against the roof of the car. The traffic light changed colors.

“When will this competition end? Comparing yourself to your brother?” You paused. “You’re both very different people with very different needs, and-”

“And you think there’s something wrong with me.”

There wasn't that familiar attitude in Megumi’s voice. There was pain. But, heartbreakingly, that pain was a familiar tone as well.

You wanted to look at him, grab his shoulders, and shake some sense into him, do something. Anything. But you could only crank up your windshield wiper and make a left turn.

“You were getting better, Megumi. I saw it. But now? Now it feels like you’re moving backwards. You and I have started to bond, haven’t we? We’d spend quality time together, even if it was just the two of us washing dishes. You even called me mom once. You came to me the other night for comfort and advice, and now I-I feel like you’re just . . . slipping away and I won’t just sit back and let it happen. Please stop pulling away from us, okay? I’m here for you. Your family is here for you.”

“I told you the truth the other day, and look where it’s gotten me. You think I’m fragile. Like I’m weak and I’m gonna break. And now you’re dragging me to meet a therapist and psychiatrist. Being honest with you has only backfired, so . . . I think it’s best if I pull away.”

“What do you expect me to do when my son, my son, looks me in the eyes one night and tells me he doesn’t see the point in living anymore? Do you just-just expect me to, what, sit back and do nothing as I watch you continue to skip meals again? Stay curled up in bed? Hear from your friends over and over again that you were careless with your own life in battle?” You slowed down as you drove; you could barely see, not only because of the heavy rain, but also the tears brimming within your waterline. “This is what it means to be loved by a family, Megumi. I know you didn’t ask for this, and you can hate me and your dad all you want, but I suggest you get used to it, because I’m not giving up on you. None of us are. You understand me? Do you understand me?”

Megumi’s gaze returned to the raindrops on the window. His hands were starting to tremble — he wanted to cry. He didn’t answer you, not now, because he didn’t understand.

He thought he did once. He thought he wrapped his mind around familial love and understood that he was loved and cared for — and he still does. Part of him, the logical side, knows he’s loved and cared for, but maybe, just maybe, that was part of the problem.

He got sick easily. Got injured easily. Didn’t like very many things. Turned away from affection. Was a picky eater — it made him feel like a burden to his family, who he knew loved him and went out of his way to make him comfortable, be it you preparing ginger chicken over a bed of rice while everyone else dined on honey-garlic glazed salmon, or giving up loud family movie nights to play quiet board games with him occasionally.

But right now? It didn’t matter to him whether he understood the concept of familial love or not. He trusted you with something, and this betrayal? He couldn’t understand it.

But right now? When his spirit was crushed and he dreaded every sunrise that marked another day of living? When you parked in front of the beige office building and took him inside for his very first session?

He could understand one thing: his desire to have never been born.

YUJI’S STORY — DAY FIVE

It was warm today. The rapidly changing weather switched back and forth between hot and sunny or cold and rainy as if it couldn’t decide which of the four seasons it wanted to mimic, nevermind what season it actually was.

And, damn it all, Satoru took advantage of temporary warm weather by standing over his smoking outdoor grill, but not because he craved warmth and anything that reminded him of peaceful summer days, but because one of Yuji’s favorite foods happened to be Satoru’s grilled burgers, and Yuji was having a bad day today.

With one hand, Satoru flipped the burgers over with a spatula. They still needed quite a bit of cooking. With the other hand, he raised his blacked-out sunglasses, gazing at the back of his house.

It had been a while since he last checked on the moping boy. His other moping boy, Megumi, was fast asleep after Satoru coaxed him into eating by bringing a food tray to his room that held an apple he sliced, a basic sandwich — Megumi didn’t like too many toppings — and his new antidepressants.

A short distance away, Maya was plopped down in her sandbox, digging around with a colorful, tiny shovel.

“Muffin?” Satoru called out. When the young girl looked at him and tilted her head a bit, he asked, “Want a juice box, sweet girl?”

She eagerly hopped to her feet, took a moment to shake off as much sand as she could, singing under her breath, “shake, shake, shake, shake off the sand . . . shake, shake, shake, shake off the sand.”

Afterwards, Maya and Satoru stepped through the back door. Once he sat the young girl down at the nook table in the corner of the gourmet kitchen, gave her a juice box and told her to stay put — only after putting his lips on the skin of her arm and blowing a raspberry to make her giggle, of course — he then headed upstairs to go check on Yuji.

—

“I wanna kill that annoying punk you call your father first.”

It was Sukuna’s rotten voice. Yuji was digging through the drawer of clothes in his spacious bedroom when the king of curses manifested himself on the side of Yuji’s face.

“Shut up,” Yuji mumbled.

“Who would be fun to kill next? Let me think . . . that pretty mother of yours? Your little sister? That little girl’s becoming sensitive to cursed energy now, right? Does your family know she won’t come near you anymore, ‘cause she can sense me? The evil inside of you? We made her cry and run away the other day. Remember that?”

“Shut up. Just shut up already.”

“You think these people really trust you as a vessel to keep me in check, huh? I bet they’re hoping you die and take me with you-”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up-”

“How do you think it’d feel, brat? Your own body being used to kill the useless humans you call your family? Your face being the last face they see as they die a slow, painful death?”

“Shut the hell up!”

He was shouting — he didn’t realize it, not until the silence that ringed afterward made him realize just how loud he had been.

Yuji heard two knocks at his door. When he failed to respond, whoever seeked entry twisted the knob and opened it.

“Yuji?”

“Sorry, I’m fine.” Yuji glanced at Satoru standing in his doorway. With a bundle of clothes in his hand, Yuji paused, watching his dad glance over the top of his sunglasses, his all-seeing eyes scanning Yuji from top to bottom. “Stop it.”

“He’s bothering you again, huh? Wanna talk about it?” Satoru stepped into his bedroom.

Yuji shook his head, mumbling an inaudible, “no.” He tossed the clothes in his hands on his bed — they fell with a soft plop — and suddenly, the tears started to fall.

He couldn’t help it by then. The teenager found himself turning around and wrapping his arms around Satoru, who didn’t waste a second before hugging him back.

“It’s okay, kid. It’s okay,” Satoru said soothingly, rubbing his back.

“Most days, I can ignore him pretty easily and not let his words get to me, but . . .”

“But ever since he scared Maya, you can’t help but listen to him.”

Yuji gasped.

It was the secret he had been keeping since it happened.

“You knew about it?” Yuji pulled away from Satoru, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Not ‘til now. I was listening at the door,” Satoru said.

“You say he scared Maya, but don’t you mean me? It’s ‘cause of Sukuna, yeah, but it's not like he was taking over my body when she got scared. It was just . . . me. It’s his fault, but it’s still me. Does that make any sense?” Yuji looked down at the floor. “Megumi’s always been her favorite sibling, and I get it, she’s known him her whole life and stuff, but . . . not only am I her least favorite member of the family, but now she’s downright scared of me. Do you think that means I should live on campus for a while? It’s not fair for Maya to be scared of someone in her own home. She’s your biological kid, so she comes first. I’m just the one you adopted last year-”

“And you’re just as much a member of this family as she is.” Satoru interrupted Yuji with a stern tone he wasn’t used to. “Just give it time, Yuji. Your mom and I are working on a way to get her used to . . . all this. And in the meantime, don’t let Sukuna get to you. I know that’s easier said than done, but just you wait. I’m gonna find some sorta loophole where I can kill him for good, and still keep you alive and well. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“You’re pretty optimistic.”

“Well, you’re my boy, Yuji. I’ll be damned if you don’t become old and gray someday.”

Yuji gave Satoru another hug, but this time, instead of tears, it was with a soft smile. Though his heart hadn’t fully accepted Satoru’s words, nor had his mind accepted that he had a right to stay home, he couldn’t help but giggle when his dad called him that affectionate term.

“Damn right I’m your boy!” Yuji exclaimed.

“Hey, watch your mouth.”

“Sorry. Can we play baseball together soon?”

MAYA’S STORY — DAY SIX

It was somewhere between noon and evening, the big house a warming shade of yellow and orange from the setting sun peeking in through the open windows, and Maya crept down the hallways with her doll clenched tightly against her chest.

Sneaking around her home wasn’t fun — not nearly as fun as the show the The Backyardigans made sneaking seem to be in the episode she watched with dad last week. Secret agents, they were.

She tried singing the little Secret Agent song in her head, tried to pretend that she was on some fun, grand adventure, but in truth, she was scared.

She was coming out of her bedroom when she heard footsteps in the hallway, and she felt it. That . . . that energy. That spirit.

Everyone in her family had that same energy, she could feel it, but unlike her dad or Megumi, this energy wasn’t friendly. It was as scary as the big monsters she swore lived under her bed when she was younger — and though dad held her tight and told her he kicked all the monsters out and scared them away, that wasn’t true. Because sometimes, she still saw monsters! Like the one she saw at the park the other day! And she swore — she swore — her big brother was one of them. He was the one with the unfriendly energy.

A little while ago, she ran up to Yuji, eager to share her grapes with him, and that was the first time she felt it. She ran away crying, shrieking away from him when he tried to follow her and ask her what was wrong. Ever since then, she would only go near him if others were around. It broke her little heart. She loved Yuji! So why, just why, did he have to turn out to be one of those scary monsters?

Maya peeked her head around the corner of her door frame and saw Yuji, who was opening a hallway closet.

“Umbrella, umbrella, umbrella. Where is it?” He mumbled to himself in a bored tone, searching the shelves for, apparently, an umbrella.

Why was he here right now, of all places? He wouldn’t move either, which meant . . . she would have to walk past him to reach the bathroom.

She wanted to cry. Where was Dad? He’d hold her, and together, they could make it past that scary monster.

Maya turned in the opposite direction of the bathroom, dashing away as quickly and quietly as she could, not wanting to draw his attention. Her heart was pounding. She then made a quick turn into what was the upstairs gameroom, and there you were! You were fluffing one of the pillows on the couch when you turned your head, smiling at the sight of your daughter running towards you, but your smile quickly vanished as the corners of your lips pointed downward, your brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong, honey?” You asked.

“I have to pee-pee and there’s a monster in the hallway!”

Your frown deepened in pure confusion.

You knew quite well there wasn’t a monster in the hallway, but before you could question the young girl, she was reaching up, grabbing hold of your hand with her little one — the one that wasn’t holding her doll — and she pulled you along.

There was no one in the hallway except Yuji.

You figured that, perhaps, there was some sort of weird decoration in the hallway that scared her, but when you glanced down, you saw her wide, fear-filled eyes were locked on Yuji.

“Maya, what’s the matter?” You questioned. “Mommy doesn’t understand what you’re scared of.”

You weren’t exactly whispering like Maya hoped you would, and your words caught Yuji’s attention. He turned away from the hideous ponchos in his hands, looking in your direction with a small, “hm?” when, all of a sudden, Maya dropped your hand, raising a trembling finger as she pointed at her brother.

“Monster,” she cried out.

A shocked gasp escaped your lips. You never would have expected your sweet girl to call someone such a thing, let alone her brother. “Now Maya, that is not nice. We don’t call people things that we wouldn’t want them to call us. You owe your brother an apology.”

Yuji shut the door of the hallway closet, locking eyes with his sister. Maya shrieked, dropping her doll.

“Mommy!” She grabbed, pulled, and yanked at your shirt and pants, practically trying to climb up your body and jump into your arms.

Tears fell from her eyes as she cried, “Make him go away! Make him go away!”

No parenting book had prepared you for this, whatever this was.

The terrified girl’s nails were digging into your flesh; you had no choice but to pick her up.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you said soothingly, but the fright in your voice was crystal clear.

You gave Yuji a look of panicked confusion, one that begged for answers to the obvious question, but when you looked at him — even from the distance between you both — you could see the tears streaming down his face.

“Make him go away, mommy! Make him go away!” Maya cried.

Yuji sniffled, wiping his tears off on his sleeves before turning away.

“Wait, Yuji- Maya, it’s okay, I don’t . . .”

Suddenly, with Megumi following, Satoru was making his way up the stairs before Yuji could descend them, forcing the crying sorcerer to stay put.

Yuji tried his hardest to weave around Satoru, but Satoru gripped his shoulders.

“Aht, aht, aht, you’re not going anywhere.”

“But I’m scaring her!”

“Yuji, will you please tell me what’s going on?” You cradled your sobbing daughter’s head.

“Here, Megumi,” Yuji reached around Satoru, tossing Megumi two mustard-yellow ponchos he found.

Megumi caught it and started to descend the steps without another word.

Satoru frowned.

“You two mind telling me why you need ponchos when there isn’t a cloud in the sky?”

There was no answer. Megumi continued to walk down the steps, Maya continued to sob, and Yuji continued to wipe his streaming tears, his path blocked by Satoru.

“I asked you two a question. Yuji, your mother asked you a question.”

“We’re packing our bags and leaving. We can’t stay here.”

It was Megumi who stopped walking and answered.

You could handle quite a bit, but this? This was what finally made the tears fall.

When that very first sniffle interrupted the silence, your entire family turned to face you.

It was too much. Everything. Every bit of it.

With Maya in your arms — her little tantrum had dwindled to silent sobs now — you left the hallway, stepping into the closest room you could find.

Satoru was a man who could walk through Hell with a grin on his face. He was an easygoing person, one who could tolerate everything from strong curses, the attitudes of teenagers — perhaps his own occasional lack of maturity helped him out with that — but, the one thing he could not simply grin and bear?

Seeing his wife upset.

Satoru slowly turned his head between Megumi and Yuji, looking at their guilt-ridden faces. He clenched his jaw.

“You two. Living room. Now. I’m not messing around, and don’t you dare talk back to me.”

Satoru moved past Yuji, and the boy swore he could feel the anger radiating off of him like heat.

The pissed-off man watched his sons drag their feet into the living room, Megumi’s hands fidgeting with the sleeves of his black sweatshirt while Yuji had his head down, messy hair unusually flat like he was a kicked puppy, and Satoru then stepped into the room you occupied with Maya.

You were sitting on the ottoman in front of the bed. Kneeling in front of you, Satoru looked at you with all the softness he held for you in his overwhelmed heart, and he stroked your tears away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry.” He leaned forward and kissed your cheek. He then repeated the same act of love with Maya. “Both of my sweet girls are crying. You’re killing me.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, taking a deep breath as if to soothe yourself. “It’s just been a long, long week. I don’t wanna make them feel guilty for how they feel by crying in front of them, I swear I don’t, but . . . I think hearing them say that was my final straw.”

Satoru rose to his feet. He scooped Maya out of your arms, and said, “Come to the living room. We all need to work it out.”

The living room was softly lit by two lamps. From one of the couches where Megumi and Yuji sat, Yuji wiped away one of his own tears, then gently knocked his knee against Megumi’s.

“You okay?” Yuji asked.

Megumi didn’t answer for a while, his eyes glued on the living room floor.

“No.” Megumi’s voice was soft. “Are you?”

“No.”

Megumi and Yuji gave each other a sympathetic smile. Just then, they heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. You came down, following Satoru — who held Maya — and you all found yourself grabbing a spot on one of the couches.

Satoru started to speak to the young girl holding on to him.

“Muffin, look at Yuji.”

Maya looked up at Satoru with precious eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Don’t be scared. It’s okay. Just look at him.”

She was hesitant, found herself clenching Satoru’s shirt even tighter, but . . . but eventually, she turned her head and looked at her older brother, who bounced his leg out of pure nervousness and old habit, his face a mess of falling — and seemingly never-ending — tears.

“You see that?” Satoru pointed. “He’s crying. Do you know why he’s crying?”

Maya looked up at her dad, shaking her head with a small pout.

“He’s crying because you’re hurting his feelings, muffin. Calling him a monster and running away from him is making him sad, so sad that he wants to run away from home. If he does that, it’ll make all of us sad as well. You’re the sweetest girl I know, and I know for a fact my sweet girl doesn’t wanna make anyone sad, right?” Maya blinked at him, and Satoru continued. “Yuji isn’t like that monster you saw at the park. Your brother is actually this super-duper strong, super-duper awesome, super-duper great person who’s keeping a monster at bay, so the monster can’t hurt anyone someday. He’s a hero, one who puts himself in harm's way to try and protect other people, and he loves you very, very much. Isn’t that cool? To have a brother who’s that brave, kind, and strong?”

Maya tilted her head to the side, the gears in her brain turning, and she nodded slowly.

When you started to speak, Maya looked over at you.

“You have a family of people who fight those scary monsters you’ve seen all the time. In fact, your dad is the strongest monster-fighter in the whole world. None of them can lay a hand on him because of how strong he is. And guess what?”

“What?” Maya squeaked out.

“You’re his daughter, so that really strong monster-fighter strength has been passed on to you,” you smiled. “Nothing bad will happen to you, honey. Everyone in this family will make sure of it; me, your dad, Megumi, and Yuji, who I think could really use an apology from you right now.”

Maya, albeit hesitant, hopped off her dad’s lap. She wiped the tears off her chubby cheeks and glanced back at Satoru.

“Go on, it’s okay,” he nodded.

In a way, it was quite hilarious. The person she feared was nothing more than a sulking boy with teary, light brown eyes, and a sad frown. Kicked puppy.

Maya stood in front of her brother. She didn’t fully understand what you and her dad were trying to say, but she knew a few things for certain:

No one else seemed scared of Yuji.

Dad said Yuji wasn’t a monster; he fought monsters.

That evil energy wasn’t the only energy she felt from him, there was something else there. Something kind and warm.

She loved Yuji, and she didn’t like making him feel sad.

“I’m really, really, really sorry,” Maya mumbled.

“It’s okay, Maya Papaya,” Yuji smiled softly.

“You’re like Barbie!”

Oh, her famous compliment. Yuji’s grin widened in amused bewilderment, though he didn’t fully understand what about him could have reminded her of Barbie.

“Oh yeah? I don’t know, I think she’s way cooler than I am,” Yuji reached forward slowly in case his little sister was still hesitant to trust him, and when she didn’t back away, he ruffled her hair. Maya responded to that by stepping closer with her arms out. As Yuji happily leaned down to hug her, god, it felt as if his heart melted and was being glued back together all at once.

A moment after the hug ended, Satoru spoke up. “Muffin, why don’t you go play with dolls, hm? I know my big girl can play all by herself, right?”

“Uh huh! I can go do that!”

Everyone listened to the pitter-patter of Maya’s footsteps. Once the conclusion was drawn that she was in her room, you and Satoru glanced at the boy on the other couch who was playing with the sleeves of his black sweatshirt.

“My turn, right?” Megumi mumbled.

“You’re not in trouble. Neither one of you are. It’s just that, at the first sign of chaos, you two wanna hit the door. You both need to understand that no matter what happens, no matter what you do or how you feel, those beds upstairs are yours. We’ll work through any situation no matter what it is because you’re our children. Your dad and I will chase you down and drag you both back home if we have to, but please don’t make us have to.” You paused. “Megumi, do you truly hate the idea of getting help so much that you’d rather stop living here with us? Are you that angry with me?”

“It isn’t like that. I just feel like a . . . burden again.” He couldn’t look you in the eye. “But I’m not angry, I’m just hurt. It feels like a betrayal.”

“What did . . .” Your voice was wobbly. You used every bit of your strength to hold back your own tears. “When you told me how you were feeling, what did you think would happen? What did you want to happen? Did you think I wouldn’t do something?”

“I knew you would, I just . . . I wanted to talk to you, not a therapist.”

“Me?” You blinked.

“Well, you’re my mother, aren’t you?”

Oh.

Oh, you were certain you misheard him. Your wide eyes found Satoru’s, and your husband gave you a knowing grin.

“I heard it, baby. He said it.” Satoru said.

“I’m gonna cry again,” you wiped at the tears threatening to stream down your face; it was crystal clear during this moment who Maya got her sensitive side from. “Can I hug you? If not, that’s okay.”

Megumi looked up at you. He thought about it for a moment, then with a whisper of a smile, he said, “Yeah, sure.”

You made your way over to where he sat, and he stood up. You wrapped your arms around him, taking extra care not to hug him too long or squeeze him too tightly.

When you pulled away, you said. “I still think you should give your current treatment plan a proper try, but you can always come to me, Megumi. Always, always, always.”

After you released him, you then walked over to Yuji, your arms open, and he grinned widely, hoping to his feet to hug you.

“I owe you an apology, Yuji.”

“Huh? For what?” He pulled away, tilting his head a little.

“For neglecting your needs. You should give therapy a try as well. I didn’t think it was necessary at first, seeing as you were always smiling and laughing no matter what, but after everything you’ve been through, you need it as well. I’m sorry for not considering it sooner.”

“Oh, well . . . okay, I guess.”

“I think someone else needs therapy.”

The interjection came from Satoru. Turning around, you raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean Maya? Because a child therapist doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“I was talking about you, but honestly, let’s get the whole family in there,” Satoru motioned you over, and your lips fell into a little frown. “What’s that look for? Aren’t you always saying everyone needs someone to talk to at some point?”

“That’s true,” you said. You walked over to Satoru and claimed the spot next to him on the couch, and he wrapped his arms around you. “I think I could use a massage, or maybe a vacation as well.”

“I’m on it,” Satoru smiled down at you. Then, as he looked back at his teenage boys, he said, “So now, on to dating . . .”

SATORU’S STORY — DAY SIX

The conversation with your boys lasted well into the evening until the orange rays of the setting sun kissed the sky goodbye, and the bright moon appeared along with the stars.

But not every bit of chaos had been resolved just yet. There was something else, something lingering in the back of Satoru’s mind, and that was why instead of showering together before winding down for your nightly routine of soft chatter, massages, and watching an episode of two of your favorite show together, you and Satoru found yourselves strolling through the Night Lights Festival once again.

“Satoru, we’ve all had a long day. Why’d you bring me here?” You asked, looking up at the side of his face, your fingers intertwined.

“Because I wanna spend time with the person I’m in love with, obviously. You’re the love of my life, my amazing wife,” he turned his head, smiling down at you. “Look, I’m even rhyming now like a lovesick poet.”

“But why are we at the festival again? After the day we’ve had, our bed was calling my name. I was hoping we were gonna cuddle up and watch our show together, or anything that involves lying in bed . . . Please don’t make a dirty joke.”

Satoru shot you an amused grin.

He guided you towards a food vendor that smelled of heavenly sugar. After ordering one chocolate-filled churro, he turned around to face you as he waited.

“Well, you and I never get any alone time nowadays, and we really needed to talk. I figured, why not do it here? The festival only comes once a year anyway. I wanna do our little churro tradition as many times as possible.”

“Why do we need to talk? You’re not divorcing me, are you?”

“Never. You’re stuck with me in every lifetime. I really believe it, ya know. I had a dream once where we both died and-”

“Here you go. Enjoy the festival.” The friendly vendor owner unintentionally interrupted Satoru, a churro in hand.

Satoru took it with thanks. You two continued strolling until he found an outdoor bench close to the lantern-lit lake and bridge.

“What was I saying?” He asked, sitting down.

As he took the first bite of the churro before passing it to you, you said, “Listen, if this is about my rant the other day, I really don’t feel the need to continue that conversation. Talking with everyone today helped some.”

“There’s more to it.” Satoru’s tone was serious at first. The lanterns nearby illuminated his expressionless face. Strands of his white hair shifted as he nodded down at the churro in your hand. “Come on, bite the churro.”

You did so. A beat of silence passed between you both. You handed him the churro; his turn to take a bite.

“I’m waiting,” he said, taking the sweet treat.

“For?”

“For you to tell me whatever it is you need to tell me. And for you to tell me why you haven’t told me until I brought up that there’s something you need to tell me.”

You blinked at him. He was right, after all. You were keeping something from him, and of course, he’d recognize the signs of secrecy. But you wanted to hold on to the secret news of your pregnancy a little longer.

“Really? You know me better than I know myself.” You avoided looking at him as he gave you the churro. Your bite was nothing more than a hesitant nibble. “Do you honestly think I’d keep secrets from you?”

“Then why won’t you tell me you’re pregnant, baby?”

Your limbs froze. Your heart skipped a beat, and though he spoke sweetly, kindly, you were still as stiff as a statue.

“Look at me,” he softly demanded, hooking his fingers around his blindfold and pulling it down, letting it dangle around his neck.

You glanced up at him, almost feeling like a shy child getting scolded.

“I . . .” Whatever excuse you wanted to give died in your throat. “How’d you figure it out?”

“Really needa ask?”

“Your eyes.” You mumbled. Duh. Of course. Of course, you couldn’t keep something like this from the Satoru Gojo.

“I would’ve pieced it together either way, ‘cause you’re right, I do know you better than you know yourself.” Satoru smiled for a moment, but then it vanished quickly. It was his turn to take a sad bite of the churro. Those bright blue eyes glistened with a sliver of hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been waiting.”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know when or how. With everything going on, I feel like everyone will freak out at the idea of adding a baby to the mix. Especially considering our boys are ready to pack their bags and run away when they spill a cup of water. I didn’t want them to feel like us having another child would mean we no longer wanted them around. Hey, we’re having more biological children, so we don’t need the adopted ones, hit the road! ya know? I read somewhere that adopted kids and teens sometimes feel like that’s what’ll happen, or they feel like they’ll always come last to the biological children. And that’s only part of the reason why me being pregnant right now isn’t a good idea. I don’t know why we thought we would be able to handle another kid at a time like this.”

“Two kids.”

“Huh?”

“We’re having twins.” Satoru leaned forward, resting his elbows on the outdoor bench. “I can pick up on things earlier than an ultrasound can. And . . .” Satoru's eyes darted down to your stomach. “Yeah. I’m looking at two individual cursed energies.”

You couldn’t help but gasp. Twins? Was he being serious? Was this real?

“Oh my god. Satoru I . . . I mean, thank goodness we have a big ass house, right?” You gave a hollow laugh. One out of pure shock. “H-How do you feel about all this? I can’t tell.”

Satoru reached down into the pocket of his black jacket. He pulled out his phone, let the brightness on the screen illuminate his face, and opened the messaging app. Your husband then handed his phone to you. What stared back at you was a messaging thread with Kento.

Satoru spammed the poor man with multiple text messages, some short, incoherent, and incomplete, some using all caps, others long and decorated with emojis, but every message expressed his pure excitement. The last thing you saw before handing his phone back to him was a selfie he sent of himself crying tears of joy.

“Not only did I cry, but I went on a two-hour run to release some built-up excitement. I think it’s safe to say I’m beyond thrilled. I just wanted to wait for you to figure out, because I thought you were gonna be excited to tell me, and I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise, but then I realized that you knew, and I could see how stressed out you were. You were going through tea like a teaholic, didn’t finish your crepes, and the last time I gave you a massage, you were so tense, it was like I was rubbing down a rock.” You took a bite of the churro. Satoru continued speaking. “You know I’m always gonna be here for you, right? There isn’t any part of this that you’ll have to go through alone. Even when I’m away, I will always be coming right back to you. We will figure it out, baby. Every bit of it. I wish I could be the pregnant one, not you, just so I can take some stress away from you.”

“And now you’ve made it weird,” you laughed — a genuine one this time — and watched as Satoru shrugged and took a bite of the churro you handed him.

“As weird as you are,” you paused, the churro now in your hands. “I’m glad you’re in my life. Who knows? Maybe preparing for two new members of the family could be the bonding time this family needs. Not sure.”

“Look at you being optimistic, I love it.”

You took the last bite, playfully rolling your eyes at him, but your fake attitude fooled no one. You were crazy in love with that handsome man across the table.

“Okay, c’mere, time for you to kiss me. The person who takes the last bite has to give the first kiss. Don’t tell me you forgot,” Satoru said. Though he told you to come to him, he was the one who rose from his seat and made his way over to your side of the bench. He straddled the bench seat, facing your side, and placed his hands on your hips as if to coax you into facing him.

“Pretty sure you just made that up. And aren’t we, like, both supposed to take the last bite together, causing our lips to meet, then we kiss?”

“I think the two of us should only try that with pasta, honey. We did it during that pasta making class we went to. I think one of us would choke to death if we tried to do it with a chocolate-covered churro,” Satoru tugged on you a little tighter, his lips falling into a small pout. “You’re taking too long. Just kiss me already. You’re ruining the mom-”

You cut off your talkative husband with what he so eagerly wanted — a sweet kiss. Not only could you feel his soft lips against yours, but you could feel him fighting off a smile as he kissed you back with passion.

That smile fully formed once you both parted, your face inches apart. His bright eyes stared into yours in a way that made it hard for you to breathe, and he gently stroked your cheek.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?”

“I think all of this chaos has taught me that, even though it’s hard, I can handle a lot of things. But promise me that you will never stop looking at me the way you’re looking at me right now. If for any reason you stop looking at me with all of that love in your eyes, I think that’s what will finally break me. Just promise me we will never become one of those couples who fall out of love with one another but are still together out of convenience.”

“I’ve stared at you like this since the first day we met, April 8th, 2005. I thought I was the coolest guy on the planet, but around you? I was a nervous wreck who wouldn’t stop blushing and stuttering. I still look at you now the same way I did then, and I know I still will when we’re old and wrinkly, and you know it too. But I promise, if that’ll put your worried little mind at ease.” Satoru caught you by surprise with one last little peck against your lips. Then, the tall man stood and held his large hand out for you to take. “C’mon, let’s burn our fingers tossing lanterns into the sky again while trying to look like a cute couple.”

You laughed, letting your hand fall into his. You didn’t know it, but several festival goers caught glimpses of you and your husband together. They prayed to someday find a cherishable love just as precious.

♡ — What did you think? Let me know! Feedback is appreciated and encourages me to post more dad!gojo content!

♡ — @marvel-girl3 @goldenglow149 @luaqsv @sstoru @pinkfemdolly @satorusgummies @therealmrsgojo @leehriie @iminlovewqr0w @odessa-is-my-queen @melodycelos @stoneaf @dreamypirate @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[tokoyamisstuff]

Hwang In-ho x gn Circle Guard! Reader

Why did it take 6 months until the Frontman gave 222's baby to his brother?

just a quick drabble from the top of my head, idk it's 2am leave me alone

"Take off your mask."

A shaky breath escapes your lips while doing as you were told, sweat still dripping from your forehead from earier labour.

Now that the games have ended and the protocol for erasing all evidence has been completed, you assumed it was about time for the usual: One last, passionate moment spent together before you and your superior would part ways for yet another year.

Almost automatically, you fondle with the zipper of your suit, about to present yourself for him like so many times before.

"No" he stops you immediately, raising his hand in a rather appeasing than commanding manner. "Don't."

Before you could even react, the man turned around, fondling with a piece of furniture you didn't recognize despite being invited to his quarters on the regulary.

And then, out of the black box no one would assume was a bassinet, he took the last thing you'd expect to see ever again.

"Is that-"

"Yes, it is" he answers the obvious, beckoning you over while cradling the newborn in his arms with a tenderness you weren't aware he was capable of.

For a while the two of you would remain like this, standing besides each other as you undeservingly watched in awe of this peaceful innocence born in the midst of sin and despair.

In-ho observes intently how your eyes light up when the baby's little fingers wrap around yours, feeling the corners of his mouth etch into a smile he had long since forsaken.

Many questions were burning on your tongue, most of them concerning the child's future, but also about the Frontman himself that remained an enigma to you even after all those years. Because as intimate as your relationship was, it was also strictly physical, and in all other aspects he prefered to keep a 'professional' distance.

"Did you ever want to have children?"

You blink up at him like a deer in the headlights, unsure whether it was a trick question. After all, he was never interested in your thoughts, or feelings in particular.

"I heard you volunteered to feed her" he inquires further, gently wrapping a blanket around the baby after placing it back into the bed.

Sure, you weren't opposed to the idea itself, but with the circumstances your life had developed, you never truly allowed yourself to even consider it.

"I'm a murderer" you state matter-of-factly, facing downwards in a mixture of shame and bewilderment. "I shouldn't involve myself with anyone."

"Same goes for me" he retorts in his usual callous tone, standing so close that the back of your hand barely touches his. "But I was told to deal with the baby as I see fit."

"So...have you decided yet what to do with it?"

The Frontman's features always seemed as much of a mask as the angular black shapes of his attire, although right now a hint of melancholy slipped right through. "I...have someone in mind. But not yet, not while it's still so dependent."

Before you could even think of a possible answer to continue the conversation, you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, eyes still locked on the baby stirring contently in it's sleep.

"You still live alone, right?" You nod. It's not a question, it's a fact. He knows even the most trivial details about your life outside of this job, and unbeknownst to you he's way more involved than he should be.

In-ho remains silent, chooses not to reveal what's going on in the inside, about how the current games reopened old wounds and got him to question simply everything.

"Just a few months" he squeezes your hand ever so slightly, gaze darting between you and the newborn with a fondness that almost startled you. "I need to settle some other things, so...I could use some help caring for the child."

It sounds like he tries to convince only himself, for the power imbalance between you two made that proposition more order than offer anyways.

Still, here was method to his madness, well aware that you both would inevitably taint this symbol of hope shall you get too attached for too long.

In-ho leans to your height, planting a lingering hiss to your temple before resting his forehead against yours. You crack a meek smile, since this brief imitation of normalcry was the first thing worth looking forwards to in an eternity.

"Alright, then let's...try to enjoy this while it lasts."

[rts02]

Forgive me, I’m writing this at 3am ha. Hopefully this makes sense.

Tbh?? I totally agree. I feel like there could and should be a lot more to that scene, but at the same time—I can also see it working?

With the entirety of S3 basically being a tragedy, except for a few wins at the end, it’s almost fitting that the confrontation between these two would be so short (and thus, tragic in and of itself). We see in the real world relationships that never get closure, perhaps because of time or the inability to communicate for whatever reason there is. Perhaps in-ho was so caught up in the moment/memories of his own past that he couldn’t fully focus on gi-hun. That he thought they would have time afterwards to talk, or at least continue on with their game of cat and mouse. He held the assumption and belief that gi-hun was special—different. I feel like in-ho put him on a pedestal which made it easier to feel less worried for the outcome.

Perhaps gi-hun didn’t think to speak because of his shock, or his momentary conviction and frustration with his own acceptance that killing everyone was the only way (which he later disagreed with and proceeded to most likely be frustrated at in-ho over, or the whole system yet again). He of course had passion, and a will to live and protect 222’s child, but he also gave up his life in the end, too, showing at least some sign of resignation similar to the one he’s had in the past.

It’s their assumptions of the situation and each other’s character, as well as their beliefs in one another that didn’t hold up (mostly because the didn’t know each other, or were too stubborn to believe someone wouldn’t do as they do *cough* in-ho *cough*), that make it too, a tragedy.

I also don’t think either of them fully believed it would be the end (in-ho more so than gi-hun). Both for the game, but of either of their lives. Gi-hun won once, and believed, in part, of the fairness of people (ie. pulling the fabric strands, and that it wouldn’t just be he and the child considering how many people where there). He of course wasn’t aloof to the possibility either, but y’know what I mean.

In-ho on the other hand believed that gi-hun would somehow sqeak past again, both through upholding his “people are selfish and look out for themselves and their interests” ideology, but also through that delusional pedestal thing.

You can see the same/similar dynamic in other media like Hannibal (Hannibal and Will), Hell Is Other People ( Seo Moon-jo and Yoon Jong-woo), even Sk8 The Infinity with Adam and his peculiar Adam and Eve complex. It’s in plenty of other work too, the sort of “ you see the real me, even though I feel like a shell of myself” thing.

To me, it honestly feels like in-ho’s ending was more tragic than gi-huns (death). By the end, gi-hun was jaded and resigned, but he was fulfilled with purpose up until the very end.

In-ho lost of on the only people that really saw him (both the Frontman and “young-il”)—the person he formed an attachment to even when he shouldn’t have. The person he put his faith into, his trust, his care. He gave his grief to gi-hun, a true rock—sturdy and with conviction—both before and after death through his late night disclosure and mournful tears.

Definitely giving an unrequited love vibe haha. Anyways…could say more, but I think that’s a good bundle of thoughts right there. Now I should think of all the ways in which I agree with you on the outlook for this scene (as there are many lol!)

i can't get over how underwhelming that 'confrontation' scene was. even HDH himself turned around and said 'you'll see some of the finest acting you've ever seen from these two during this scene' and LJJ and LBH did a fantastic job but at the same time...at what point did the finest acting emerge???

what we could have had and missed out on:

gi-hun calling him 'young-il' and in-ho correcting him to introduce himself

gi-hun angrily reflecting on the fact this is the brother jun-ho mentioned

an explanation to gi-hun about why he entered the games and their differences and similarities

why he became the frontman, what made him join, and why he's chosen this path

why in-ho has kept him alive so far

a conversation of morales and opposites between the pair of them and maybe in-ho digging into why gi-hun feels the way he feels, why he's so stubborn

gi-hun saying something, anything! to him instead of turning and just walking away. in-ho barring him from leaving till they've spoken and had a full conversation.

[freakmcnastyy]

Weak Hero Boys x P!Reader Headcanons

Weak Hero Class boys x pregnant!reader (fluff)

Includes: Geum Seongjae,Na Baekjin, Ahn Suho, Yeon Si-eun, Kang Woo-young, Oh Beom-seok, Go Hyuntak, Park Humin (Baku)

Note: This was an anon request! AND GOD, I swear writing — let alone reading — stuff like this makes me feel all kinds of weird. And I wrote each character at a different time of day so they wouldn’t all feel the same. Hope I pulled it off.

⸻

Geum Seongjae

1. The Moment He Finds Out:

Silence. He just stares. Then his lip twitches.

The second you tell him you’re pregnant, Seongjae goes quiet for a few seconds. He looks unbothered on the outside, but you know a thousand things are racing through his head. In that moment, his whole “world” shifts.

“I knew no one else could ever give me something like this.”

He says it softly, but something breaks in his eyes — like the idea of ever letting you go has become completely impossible.

2. Possessiveness:

Obsession. Protection. Paranoia.

He’s not just protecting you anymore, but everything you’re carrying inside you. Even the tiniest bit of stress is enough reason for him to lock you in the house. If someone bumps into you by accident? Seongjae might beat them up in the middle of the street without a second thought.

“I better not see you cry again. I’m dead serious.”

Even the dark circles under your eyes feel like a personal insult to him.

3. Physical Obsession:

He’s obsessed with your belly. Every time he talks to you, his hand goes there like a reflex. At night, he lays his head against it and whispers things to the baby. He starts acting like a “family” way before the baby’s even born — but not in a normal way.

“There’s a piece of me inside you. That means you don’t get to leave. Ever.”

4. Jealousy & Going Insane:

Another guy checking you out while you’re pregnant? Your best friend trying to take you out of the house? It’s all a problem. At some point, he might even try to hide the fact that you’re pregnant altogether.

“Don’t wear that. There’s no reason to show your stomach like that. People don’t need to see. That’s mine.”

5. Random Kindness Spikes:

He’ll suddenly start talking about baby room ideas, sweet little dreams, out of nowhere. In those moments he seems normal, like a regular excited dad — but there’s always a breakdown bubbling underneath.

“If it’s a girl, you can name her. But if it’s a boy… I’ll decide.”

6. Before & After the Birth:

The closer it gets to your due date, the more controlling he becomes. He chooses the hospital, who’s allowed in the room, even the nurse that’s going to be with you.

“If anything goes wrong… someone’s paying for it. Got it?”

And after the birth? He isolates you, the baby, and himself like it’s a three-person world. He wants to build everything from zero — just you three.

“It’s only us now. Everyone else out there is dangerous. What else do I need to do to make you understand that?”

⸻

Na Baekjin

1. When He Finds Out:

Silence. He masks his emotions, but his pupils shake. After you tell him, he holds your gaze — and stays exactly the same. Cold. Serious. Neither happy nor mad. Then he lowers his head a little.

“Is it mine?”

He trusts you. He does. But he still asks — not because he doubts you, but because he wants to believe so bad it physically hurts. And maybe… because he hates himself a little too much.

2. He Doesn’t Say “I Can’t Be a Dad,” but…

Responsibility? That’s not something he’s ever believed he deserved. He tells himself, “Someone like me can’t raise a child.” But he still parks outside your place every night, just watching. Making sure nothing happens.

“Don’t be alone. I’m behind you like a shadow — just act like I’m not there.”

3. His Way of Protecting You:

Silent. Brutal. Shadowed. Baekjin never publicly claims you. But anyone who threatens you? They start disappearing one by one. He’s given a silent order across the whole Union.

“If anyone even thinks about getting close to her — they better have their grave ready.”

4. How He Sees the Pregnancy:

It’s guilt mixed with obsession. When he sees your belly, his eyes freeze for a second. Because there’s a life inside you — his life — and he’s still struggling to believe something so pure could come from someone like him.

“If I were someone cleaner… maybe we could’ve really had this together.”

Still, his hands always go to your stomach. Every time he touches you, it’s careful. Gentle. Like he thinks you might break.

5. He Cuts You Off From the World:

The closer it gets to your due date, the more he isolates you. Friends? Family? Opinions? None of it matters to him.

“I don’t care what anyone says. If something happens to you… I’ll burn the f*cking world down.”

6. “Family” Becomes Real for the First Time:

Baekjin never had warmth growing up. Never had a real home. But now? Now the idea of building a house — not a place, but a feeling — with you and the baby is something he clings to in the dark. One night, he says without thinking:

“If someone had hugged me growing up… maybe I could’ve loved as good as you do.”

7. After the Baby’s Born:

He’s a wall. Cold, distant. But always there. He won’t hold the baby and coo over it, no. But he stands by the crib at night while you sleep, silently watching the tiny hand curled around his finger.

“Would it be okay… if I picked the name?”

⸻

Ahn Suho

1. When He Finds Out:

Shocked. Eyes wide. “Wait, what? Are you serious?! We’re PREGNANT?!”

At first, it doesn’t compute. He asks you to repeat it like three times. Then his hands start shaking. He might even tear up.

“I’m… I’m gonna be a dad? For real?!”

His first reaction is pure joy — mixed with straight-up panic. He wants to pick you up and spin you around, but the moment you say “Stop, I’m nauseous!” he freezes and immediately puts you down.

2. Ridiculously Affectionate:

He flips into “mom mode” in two seconds. Tries cooking for you, watches YouTube videos on pregnancy massages, double-checks every corner of the house like “is this safe for her? for the baby?”

“No more junk food. Less salt. Sit down, feet up. This baby’s not stressing you out!”

3. Fighting His Own Demons:

Deep down, he thinks, “I didn’t have a good childhood… what if I mess this up too?”

But he never says it out loud. He just holds you at night and whispers to your belly:

“If I raise this baby with someone like you… maybe I won’t mess it up.”

4. Emotional Rollercoaster:

Your hormones? Yeah, his are worse. You cry, he cries. You snap, he sulks — but then brings you a fruit bowl with a pouty face. One time, you probably ended up ugly crying together while eating stuffed grape leaves.

5. Silent Jealousy:

If he sees you talking to another guy? His whole vibe shifts. He won’t say anything, but the pout, the slumped shoulders, the quiet little stares — they’re all there.

“Go out if you want, just… wear something warm. And text me. At every step. I just— I worry, okay?”

6. The Birth Itself:

Sweating. Shaking. Crying. Loving. If they let him in the room, he’s right there, holding your hand like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. If they don’t — he’s on his knees outside the door, praying like his whole soul’s in it.

“You’re both okay, right? Please… that’s all I need.”

⸻

Yeon Si-eun

1. When He Finds Out:

His brain literally freezes for a second before it starts processing. When you say “I’m pregnant,” Si-eun just stares at you in silence. No yelling. No running. No hugs. His hands tremble a little.

“How long has it been? Are you okay? How many weeks?”

He hides his emotions — but every question screams, “I’m scared to death of losing you.”

2. Switches to Practical, Strategic Dad Mode:

Hospital? Booked. Doctor? Researched. Nutrition? Charted. Stress? Monitored.

“You’re not eating anything on this list. I’m serious.”

But also:

“But… if you’re craving something… I kinda snuck in a little chocolate. Please don’t be mad.”

3. He Suppresses Emotion, But Never Leaves You Alone:

He didn’t grow up with love, so he genuinely has no clue how to treat you or the baby. But one thing’s for sure: he’s not going anywhere.

He’s not the jealous type — but he is controlling. He won’t say “who did you hang out with?” but he’ll definitely check your phone later and mentally profile anyone who could hurt you.

“Don’t see anyone who might stress you out. Please. Not for me — for our child.”

⸻

Kang Woo-young

1. When He Finds Out:

Silence. Eyes on the floor. Then suddenly, his breath catches. He doesn’t say a word at first — just stares blankly. But if you look closely, you’ll see he literally forgot how to breathe.

“…I’m gonna be a dad?”

His voice shakes, but he tries to play it off. His jaw clenches.

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll figure this out. Just give me a little time.”

And then he leaves — not because he doesn’t care, but because he never planned to build a family. It was always just you and him. But later that night, he comes back. Finds you asleep, puffy-eyed from crying. Slips into bed behind you, holds you tight, buries his face in your neck.

“Don’t ever think you’re alone. No matter what… I’m here.”

2. Shows Love Through Actions, Not Words:

He can’t cook soup, but he’ll leave water by your bed every night. He can’t write you poetry, but he’ll tie your shoelaces without a word. And the first time your belly starts to show, his eyes well up.

“God, this is so weird. But so beautiful.”

3. Protection Style:

Quiet But Deadly.

Someone bumped into you? Woo-young doesn’t say a word. But a few days later, you’ll hear that guy got beat half to death in some underground ring.

He promises no more fights — “for the baby.” But of course he still does it.

4. Obsessed With Your Belly — But Too Shy To Show It:

His eyes keep drifting to your stomach when he talks to you. But he’s too shy to touch it. One night, you place his hand there — and he literally forgets how to breathe. His fingers tremble.

“Did you really love me this much?”

That night, for the first time, he rests his head on your belly and whispers for hours:

“Don’t be like your mom. She’s too soft. This world’s harsh.”

5. Emotional Breakdowns: Silent Crying:

As your pregnancy progresses, every time he feels like he’s not doing enough, tears fall. But he hides in the bathroom so you won’t see.

“I have to be strong. For both of you.”

6. Day of the Birth:

Looks like he just stepped out of a street fight. Doesn’t yell at the doctors, but the fire in his eyes says enough.

7. Fatherhood:

He can’t stop the baby from crying. Can’t change a diaper right. But every single night, he stays up beside the crib. He lets you cry in his lap without saying a word.

“You don’t have to be scared. I’m right here. Always.”

⸻

Oh Beom-seok

1. When He Finds Out:

Stares blankly. He thinks you’re joking at first.

“Wait… are you serious? From me? Like, really…?”

Then his voice breaks. His eyes fill up, but he tries not to cry. Honestly? His world crashes down. Because his dad… well, you know. And it’s not about what’ll happen to him — it’s the fear of something happening to you or the baby.

“I’m gonna… be a dad?”

His voice cracks saying it. Because his father made sure the word “dad” left a scar on his soul.

2. Wants To Run — But Can’t:

In his head: “I’m someone who doesn’t know love, who grew up on violence, who shuts everyone out. What do I have to do with someone like you?”

But leaving you would be death to him. So instead, he goes quiet. Closes in on himself.

“I don’t want to hurt you… so I might keep my distance for a while. But I won’t leave. I promise.”

3. Blames Himself Deeply:

Lays in bed staring at the ceiling every night.

“What if I turn out like him? What if I am him?”

4. Hyper Emotional, Super Fragile:

Every time you’re tired, he blames himself. Don’t feel like eating? He tears up, thinking he messed something up.

“I can’t stand seeing you upset. I’ve already been so awful… don’t turn into me.”

To him, your pregnant body feels sacred. Sometimes he can’t even touch you.

“You’re carrying something inside you now. I don’t even wanna accidentally hurt you. I’m scared.”

6. The Birth:

He breaks. Shaking. Sitting in some hospital hallway, hands covering his face, sobbing like the world’s ending.

“Please… God, please don’t take her from me.”

7. Fatherhood:

Slow, but deeply tender. Doesn’t know how to hold a baby. But watches over yours every second of the night. Talks to the baby while you sleep.

And one day, watching the two of you together — he smiles. For the first time. A real, slow, genuine smile.

“I thought I had no place in this world. But… you gave me a room in it.”

⸻

Go Hyun-tak

1. When He Finds Out:

This man goes feral. In a good way. Just stands there with this shocked, joy-filled smile, completely speechless. Then suddenly:

“Wait WHAT? OUR baby? PROJECT LEBRON JAMES BEGINS!”

2. Protective Soft Side Comes Out:

He shows up for every single doctor’s appointment. Tries to learn everything he can. At home, he leaves little surprises — hot soup, a fruit plate, a stack of pillows. But he does it shyly, almost embarrassed.

“You feeling okay matters more to me than anything.”

3. His Excitement Is Contagious:

Shopping for the baby? He treats it like a mission. Toys, clothes, the perfect paint color for the nursery — he’s got opinions.

“Our baby’s gonna sleep in the nicest room on the block, alright?”

4. Tiny Panic Attacks — But He Bounces Back:

He sometimes spirals like “what if we’re not ready?” But then breathes in, looks at you, and says:

“We’re in this together. No matter what. We’ve got this.”

5. Jealousy Is Soft & Silly:

Sees you chatting with another guy? Pouts a little. Then immediately smiles again.

“Sorry… I just. You’re kinda my whole world.”

6. Birth Time = Full Support Mode:

He’s right beside you, holding your hand, hyping you up with every push.

“You’re strong. I’m right here.”

When the baby cries for the first time, he’s standing right there, trying to feed it with trembling hands.

“Look at our tiny Lebron James.”

7. Dives Into Dad Life Fast:

He’s hungry to learn. Wakes up for every night feeding, writes down every little milestone.

“We’re building something new. You, me, and our baby. It’s gonna be amazing.”

⸻

Park Humin (Baku)

1. When He Finds Out:

He screams. For real. Like he just scored the game-winning goal in the final second. Pure, goofy, chaotic happiness.

2. A Little Insecure:

His relationship with his dad? Yeah. Complicated as hell. He’s terrified of telling him, and even more scared he might turn into him. Just like Beom-seok, he fears becoming a bad father.

3. Quiet, Emotional Protection:

With you? He’s tough. Out in public? He smiles and holds your hand like you’re fragile glass.

“No one’s touching you. Baku’s right here.”

But when he’s alone, his chest aches with the memories of his dad.

4. Tiny Surprises & Care:

You’re tired? He sets up cute little things around the house. Brings your favorite dessert. Buys fresh chicken from your favorite spot.

“I know this isn’t easy… but we’ve got this. Together.”

5. Jealousy & Trust:

Sees you talking to other guys? His eyes tear up — but he never says a word. Keeps it buried.

“Just… understand me, okay? I just wanna protect you.”

6. During Birth:

Nervous as hell but stands strong. His palms sweat like crazy, but he holds your hand the whole time.

“You’re gonna be okay. You and the baby — you’re both okay.”

7. Fatherhood:

Soft. Steady. Scared. But loving. He’s clumsy at first, scared to touch the baby. But he never leaves your side. Stands by the crib every night.

“I’m not just here for you anymore. I’m here for them too.”

[prettydaisygirl]

Hi beautiful <33

I love your writing, especially James Bombero's. I need that man to be real.

Some fluff, maybe suggestive if you want (?) where the Pregnant reader is very happy to see James training and exercising and maybe because she is a little insecure about her body, he shows her that no matter the weight, he can carry her.

hi nonnie! Thank you so much for this request, I need to write something with them and their baby because I can't get enough of this. Hope you enjoy <3

firechief!James Potter x fem!reader who feels insecure about her body ✿ 710 words

cw: pregnant!fem!reader, body insecurity, James being hot but also gross, suggestive but no actual smut

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

You bite your lip, shifting on the couch again. It’s been difficult to get comfortable recently, what with your body adjusting for new growth and the swell of your belly. That’s not why you’re squirming though, not really. That’s just your excuse.

The real reason is across the room, wearing a headband and shining with sweat.

James is doing bicep curls with weights you’re sure you’d never be able to lift. His small grunts with each rep have you hot and bothered no matter how hard you try to focus on your novel. Your eyes trace the same sentence four times before you give up, looking up to admire him again.

His muscles shift under the thin fabric of his sleeveless shirt. You find yourself staring, the book in your hand falling into your lap. James shakes his hair off his forehead again, beads of sweat dripping off his chocolate-colored curls. Your body heats, an ache between your legs that only worsens as you continue to watch him move.

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve let James touch you. You don’t feel right in your body.

You’re happy. Incredibly, wonderfully, amazingly happy to be carrying his baby, it’s not that. Every time you look in the mirror, you don’t feel like yourself. The thought of him touching you, seeing you like this, makes your skin crawl. You know James would love you no matter what you looked like, but you’re having trouble loving yourself enough to let him touch you.

The heat in your gut mixes with the icy coldness of insecurity. Your face crumbles and you look back at your book, nausea rising up your throat despite the fact that you’ve long surpassed your morning sickness phase. 

Of course, it’s at this moment that James chooses to look at you. He takes out an earbud, a frown on his face. “Are you alright, love?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” You say, though the words are hollow and your voice wavers enough for him to notice. “I just… you look really good right now.”

“Why do you sound disappointed by that?” He asks, grabbing a towel to wipe off his sweat as he steps closer to you. “Normally you’d say ‘oh wow Jamie, you are so hot with such big muscles, I love you so much!’” James does a very poor impersonation of you, but it’s enough to have one corner of your mouth tilting up into a smile.

“I would never say that.” You say back in a low voice, rolling your eyes at him. The tight feeling in your gut doesn’t go away, though, and your hands instinctively find your bump. Despite it being the main source of the insecurity, feeling the skin there also brings you a sense of comfort. It’s an internal battle that just leaves you feeling like there are bugs below your skin, like you’re an imposter. “I’m just… afraid to let you touch me right now. 

James’ face contorts like this is the most confusing thing he’s ever heard, and then he looks almost offended. “Do you think so little of me? Angel, you’re carrying my child, I would never-”

“No, it’s not you, it’s… I don’t like how I look right now.”

A thick silence fills the room, lingering long enough that you interrupt it with a sharp gasp in surprise as James slides an arm under your legs, the other behind your back, and lifts you into his hold gently. He just chuckles.

“James!” You wrap your arms around his back to stop yourself from falling. 

“You know I love you no matter what you look like, right?” James’ voice is soft. 

“Yes.” You say, just as quiet. “I know.”

“And you just told me that I look good.” Not a question, but you respond the same.

“Yes, I know.” With a smile this time.

“And I’m really turned on right now, so can I please carry you upstairs and make love to you?” He doesn’t give you the chance to get shy or embarrassed. “I’ll worship you until you forget all about your insecurities, baby.”

Your cheeks heat, and you bury yourself into his chest. He smells like sweat and man, and you crinkle your nose. 

“Only if you shower first.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[himasntgod]

Could I request platonic Silver with half-fae reader who also went through the whole eternal slumber process and awakened by true love but reader just doesn't sleep. Nobody has seen them sleep, not once. Sibling dynamic kinda

(this may be a lil specific cuz it's for oc purposes lol)

SILVER AND READER

Where you wake up with him from the eternal slumber found by Lilia, and you become siblings

What would your brotherhood relationship be like if, in addition, you had the peculiarity that, unlike him, you are incapable of sleeping?

FOR OC PURPOSES 😭, to keep feeding this OC I decided to make it a little darker at the end, you can ignore it or keep it in mind! Also I would love to do a second part dealing with this ending, if you ask me, or leave it to your imagination. I'm not very convinced about some things, and I could redo it, but I hope you like it <3

Silver didn’t remember waking up. Not really. He remembered you.

You were there the moment his eyes opened, when the eternal slumber lifted its fog from his mind. Lilia stared at you in astonishment. Silver was just a baby, unlike you, who were considered a toddler when you fell under the spell. He thought it was a dream at first, your hand in his, your eyes tired, the smell of the forest in your clothes.

A lullaby left your lips off-key, fond.

And no one had ever seen you sleep.

Not Lilia, who tucked you in as a child along Silver. Not Sebek or Malleus with whom you had shared most of your childhood since you woke up. Not even Silver.

At first, Silver thought it was a coincidence. You were up before him, smiling with your usual sleepy gaze.

Later, already as a child, he noticed you still sat by the window at midnight, legs curled you as you stared at the stars.

He’d fall asleep and wake to find you still there, unmoved.And so it went on for years.

"You don’t sleep?" he asked one day, wary of startling the truth. You hesitated, biting your lip.

“I… don’t. Can’t. Not anymore.”

Silver tilted his head, that familiar calm in his eyes.

"I used to, back then. But when I woke up, I guess something stayed broken. True love fixed me, it's supposed. Maybe it did. But dreams won’t come back to me."

“So your nights are all waking ones.”

"And your days are all dreams."

He let out a breath through his nose. “Then we’re opposites.”

You were awake when he couldn’t be. You watched over him.

Since you could never sleep, you’d sit with Lilia all night, sipping flower tea and listening to the old bat ramble about days of yore. Other times, since your father needed to rest too, you’d rest your cheek against the cool windowpane and hum a wordless tun looking at the starts all night.

You were already teens, in Briar Valley. He collapsed again during sword training.

It wasn’t dramatic, just a soft sway, then Silver crumpled into the grass like a marionette with its strings snipped. Just a boy sinking into the earth, kissed again by sleep.

The young Sebek started forward, startled.

You were already kneeling by his side.

"Don’t touch him," you murmured gently. "He’ll wake when he’s ready."

You brushed a leaf from his hair, with calm. Your hand found his, and he squeezed back even while unconscious. A muscle memory.

Reassurance.

You stayed there, kneeling beside him, even as the sun shifted and the sky paled.

“I’ll keep watch. Go to rest, Sebek. You've done well today”.

It had become a ritual, almost. He would fall asleep without warning. You would stay awake at his side without fail. You’d never leave him vulnerable. Not when he could do nothing to protect himself.

He’d thank you afterward, of course. Softly.

“That’s what siblings do, right?”

You didn’t sleep, but you weren’t restless, exactly. Just aware. Always aware.

When Silver wandered in at dawn, still yawning from a nap he hadn’t meant to take, he found you in the exact same position as before.

“Did you stay there all night? Father had no experiences and those secrets that he only shares with you about his past, to tell you tonight?”

You nodded. You noticed the slight sleepy sarcasm in his voice, it wasn't aggressive. Lilia was busy that night, so you just stayed in the same position.

“You don’t get bored?”

“No. The world is quietest at this hour. I like the quiet.”

Silver joined you on the windowsill, back to the frame, head tilting to rest against yours. He did this often, leaned on you like a pillow. You let him.

“I dreamed of the sea again.”

“What was it like?”

“Big. Still. And I was standing in it, but not wet. You were on the shore. You had wings.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “I haven’t had wings since I was a baby.”

“I know. But dreams don’t care about that.”

“I wish I could see them. Your dreams.”

“I’ll keep dreaming them,” he said. “If that’s what you need. I'll dream for the both of us”

“Then I’ll keep the watch, while you do, so you can refresh me with that world of fairytail dreams fragments later.”

One night, already in Diasomnia, Silver had a vision. Not a dream. A vision. You found him wandering the halls, dazed, half-lost.

“Silver?”

He didn’t respond. His lips twitched, trembling.

You caught him by the shoulders and held him steady.

“Hey—hey. You’re not dreaming anymore.”

“I saw you. But you weren’t awake. You were asleep.”

The breath in your chest caught.

“I kept trying to wake you. But you wouldn’t open your eyes.”

“That would be a nightmare, wouldn’t it?”

He didn’t answer right away. It wasn't a dream, it looked more like a premonition.

A memory of the future.

“No. It wasn't a dream. Just something I’ve never known. And I think I hated it.”

You'd been feeling extremely tired the last few days. Not sleepy, but tired.

For the first time, your hands shook with fear when you realized you'd closed your eyes for 20 seconds straight, feeling more at peace.

As if you were drowsy.

You held his face between your palms and met his gaze until he blinked fully back into the present.

“I’m not going anywhere. Sleep never comes for me. Not anymore.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Then keep dreaming me awake, and I’ll keep watching while you sleep, that's what we promised, isn't it?.”

Not rest. Not sleep.

Just understanding. And that was enough.

For now.

Until the day all the sleep you've been missing all these years claims you, embracing you in unconsciousness forever again.

Because you'll be there to protect Silver, but no one will be able to protect you when Morpheus takes pity on your curse and decides to put you to eternal sleep again,this time, forever.

When Silver's vision is fulfilled.

But that wouldn't happen until a few months later.

So it was enough, for now.

[sup3riorsese]

My thoughts on Rujinu (Negative)

So (Long rant incoming) do not let the title deceive you, I am not here to start any discourse of say anyone's bad or wrong for shipping what they like, especially since this ship is heavily implied, but I think a large problem with Rujinu is how both the fans and seemingly the movie view them.

I've seen a lot of people say things like "Oh Rujinu are soulmates" and "They belong together" and all this other stuff and I keep questioning if we watched the same movie.

The entire movie, Jinu was a selfish, manipulative liar. Starting with his backstory, he left his mother and sister, literally abandoned them, to live a high life. Mind you, a woman alone during that time would have little to no way of funding herself and her child unless through unconventional means. He actively left his mother, who probably did everything she could to feed and care of him and his sister, to basically starve on the streets because he was the one making the money. He was rightfully tormented and punished for this selfish act and lived 400 years paying the price. Moving to acts during the movie, the only reason he even pays attention to Rumi is because she's part demon, which is fine as it is natural to be curious, but the thing is, he is using her the entire time.

During scenes where Jinu is being "vulnerable," he is lying. Yes, there are times he seems genuinely conflicted or even remorseful (When he was looking at the little girl's picture, for example), but ultimately, the only reason he does all this is to erase the memories of his mistakes. When he tells Rumi about his family the first time, he is actively being deceptive. He lies to make her think he's not evil and makes her feel like she can be vulnerable and trust him. Throughout their meetings, he's giving the impression that not all demons are bad (Which may be true), but that's not the case for him as he was punished for committing a selfish act.

When we get to the climax of the movie, he is the one who uses two of Rumi's biggest vulnerabilities (Her friends and her marks) against her and publicly humiliates and exposes her. He quite literally had them torment her on stage, disguised as her best friends. Then, when confronted, he acts as if this was her fate the entire time. Doesn't apologize, and tells her he lied. He throws the fact that she believed him in her face and leaves her there.

He causes so much strife in her that she asks THE WOMAN WHO RAISED HER to end her life.

People saying the man who almost brought Rumi to death is her "soulmate" is almost offensive, especially because the only reason they say that is for one, his sacrifice, and two, how the movie portrays them.

Jinu's one selfless act during the entire movie is saving Rumi. Everyone acts like it is such a romantic gesture when in reality, it was the least he could do. He damned his family to being poor on the street, fed on people of 400 years, and tormented an innocent woman for his own gain. The very least he could do was sacrifice to stop Gwi-ma. Also, this may have to do with the fact that throughout the whole film, he didn't have his soul. That may be a reason he acts the way he does, but still. Many people think that he and Rumi should've kissed, but no. They shouldn't. Not only does it make the scene more heartfelt, in my opinion, but Rumi has no real reason to. Maybe before he revealed his true nature, and she thought he was a flawed man, I could see it, but in truth, after his reveal, Rumi owed him nothing. He proved that he was like any other demon, maybe conflicted and more intelligent, but still a demon. While she may appreciate his sacrifice and death, she doesn't owe him anything.

I think people think so highly of the two of them together because of how the movie shows them together. They make them out to be the only people who understand each other, and they can change the world if they work together. Firstly, they don't understand each other, and they wouldn't have changed anything because of that. Rumi doesn't understand Jinu because he lied to her. Jinu doesn't understand Rumi because, similar to Celine, he doesn't see her human side, only the demon. The whole movie, he was trying to convince her that this is what they are, what they are destined to be, but they are entirely different. Rumi was born with demon marks. She didn't do anything to gain them; she simply had them. They were and are a part of her. Jinu, on the other hand, did something to get them. He was selfish and was punished for it. He doesn't see Rumi as what she is, a woman who happens to be part demon; he sees her as a demon woman. He can't understand Rumi, because her doesn't know her and he doesn't try to see past something she had no control over. The movie unfortunately makes it seem like they just get each other, with things like Free (Which is truly hilarious as Jinu quite literally lied to her, and that whole song means nothing since he didn't tell her the truth of his own accord).

I think what people should be focusing on instead of Rujinu, is HUNTR/X.

Whether platonic or romantic, the three girls have a way more impactful and caring story and relationship than Rujinu ever could. From the start of the movie, it is clearly shown that the three of them are synced. From the way they move flawlessly together in battle to the way they formulate songs, they are linked. Through the movies, Zoey and Mira both try to include Rumi in things such as couch time or the bathhouse despite her previous refusal. They actively enjoy being around her, and even when she disrupts their brief rest, they don't seem all too upset. When at the doctors, they all agree with what he's saying, understanding each other fundamentally. When Jinu pushed Rumi over and didn't help her, both Zoey and Mira stopped drooling over the Saja Boys and backed her. They are there for her when they think something is wrong, and even when they were arguing, they were still concerned. When they all sat to talk out their feelings, they listened and expressed themselves openly, and were encouraging when Rumi made it clear why she didn't want to sing Takedown.

When they realize Rumi is vulnerable, alone on stage, they immediately try to rush to her aid. When Rumi's marks are revealed, they aren't angry that she's a demon; they're upset that she didn't tell them, that she's actively been lying to them. For two people who have been trained to hate and kill demons, they don't attack, even when they raise their weapons. It seems more like an action done out of instinctual confusion rather than malice. They don't even chase after her when she runs, they just slump in hurt and shock.

Gwi-ma gets hold of them, not because they are angry, but because they are hurt, confused, and separated. Mira thinks she's lost a piece of her family and immediately goes to blame herself. Zoey thinks somehow she wasn't enough to keep them together, and she falls into despair. It's only after she loses everyone she thought was on her side (Specifically Zoey and Mira) is when Rumi goes to Celine.

What I think is really important about Celine's reaction to Rumi is how it contrasts Zoey and Mira's reaction. Where Celine thinks Rumi should hide, her friends want her whole truth. Where Celine can't look, her friends embrace her happily. To show that the very woman who raised Rumi couldn't see past her heritage, to two girls Rumi happened to grow close with, brush past it as if it was nothing, is impactful.

When Rumi comes to the stadium, Zoey and Mira both immediately snap out of their trance after hearing her. By this point, they still had no clue if they could trust her, yet they without hesitation walked through the crowd to her and exposed their souls, to which Rumi did the same (You can tell by the blue lights in their chest, that soon after happens to Rumi right before the World War Z demons attack). Despite having no information about Rumi being a demon, they look past that. Zoey and Mira are the only people to SEE Rumi. They see her as she is: Smart, sweet, energetic, confident, and reliable. They don't just view her as her individual parts. They fully trust her.

After all this, they do normal things. Going to bathhouses, doing nothing on couches, crying about how happy they are that none of them died in a bathhouse. Zoey, who is extremely affectionate, doesn't change her ways. She still touches Rumi even after her marks are shown. They both don't show disgust or plain ignorance to who she is, like Celine and Jinu do, they embrace her to her fullest.

Yeah, this is the end of my very long rant. I just feel like I had to get that out. I don't want to shame anyone for shipping Rujinu, but I just feel like everyone brushes past all the bad he did just to make them a couple. It degrades Rumi, and that's not nice. Be better, be GOLDEN.

Ted talk done :)

[simplyhale]

You write JJ Maybank AND Tim Bradford fics?! Idk if you’ve ever been told you’re the GOAT before, but you are.

If you are taking any requests I’d love a Tim Bradford one where maybe him and reader are married and have a few kids who say stuff like “you’re always touching/kissing mom” or “you always do what mom says”. Idk just soft domestic fluff.

˚ ‧ ⁺ ✧˚ — ˚ ‧ ⁺ ✧*

˚ ‧ ⁺ ✧˚ — ˚ ‧ ⁺ ✧*

Tim’s routine after work was always the same. He makes sure the long list of items that need to be done gets done. Each item that needs to be checked in and signed for is done.

Clocks out and changes from his uniform back into his civilian clothes.

Try to beat the L.A. rush hour traffic.

Failing to beat the rush hour. 

Text you that he did not beat rush hour.

When he does finally reach the front door of your shared home it is usually between 7-7:30 p.m. From the moment he walks through the threshold he becomes fully at your mercy. As if he wasn’t already. 

He drops his bags on the small bench by the door. Taking a seat to take off his boots, all while Kojo demands his ‘welcome home’ pets. Making sure to put his keys, pocketknife, wallet, and any other items that were in his pockets into the small dish housed on the shelf above the bench. 

Making his way to the kitchen with a slight frown of his brows. Normally your kid, a five-year-old girl, would be trying to tell him everything she did today in one single breath. While you watched from wherever the two of you had been before he walked in. Usually scoping her up into his arms and walking over to you, giving you your normal ‘back in one piece’ kiss. 

But this time was different.

Things were far too quiet.

Now normally he would assume that you two were just asleep somewhere. 

It wasn’t just any normal silences (besides the normal background house noises), it came with a sweet cinnamon smell. Along with a warmth that meant the oven was on, and you were baking something.

When he walked into the kitchen he was met with your five-year-old and you sat on the floor, watching the oven window as if it was a t.v. screen. Your girl’s face is bright and joyful with a wide smile, looking over at him. Making his own smile grow at the sight. “Daddy, you almost missed it!’ Jumping up she raced over and grabbed his head and pulled him to their spot. Turning her attention right back to the silver circle pan full of cinnamon rolls. 

You turned to him; his smile caused you to smile. “I promised her cinnamon rolls this morning, and we got busy.”

“So, this is desert?”

“See I did marry you for more than your good looks.” He shook his head slightly, still looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Reaching up and cupping your cheek he brought you into a kiss. One that you felt him melt into. All of the worries that he had from a day of work were gone. Not fully. But at this moment it didn’t matter.

“Ewwww,”

The two of you laughing is what caused you to part. Looking to seeing your child giving her parents a gross look before turning back to the glass. You simply shook your head, turning your attention back to Tim. Taking him in. He had kept his morning promise, a promise he always made before leaving the house. Making it back in one piece to you. Of course, you knew he was only a text, or call, away. Having gone a whole shift without an answer. Nearly calling the station when the words that said ‘read’ and the current time caused you to relax. You started to take in every inch of his face, as if you didn’t already have it memorized. “Hi baby,”

He caressed his thumb across your cheek, you lean fully into his hold, “Hi sweetheart,” Then he scooted over so he could wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side. Your hand reached up and trailing your nails up and down the back of his neck, while your other hand rested on his chest. Tapping it and popping your head up from his shoulder to look at him when the thought pop into your head, “I almost forgot. I made spaghetti and your plate is in the microwave. I can heat it up if you want?”

“But you’ll miss the rise!” 

Tim nodded his head to the small girl with large pout, already knowing that she was waiting to see the dough raise up. “You heard her, we can’t miss the rise!” He exclaimed, with kiss to your temple.

“Why do you always have to touch Mommy?”

“Because I love Mommy,” He then reached forwards pulling the small girl into his lap, as your body turned so it could be touching both your child and husband. And just like that every worry that you had, rather it being Tim’s job or everyday issues was gone. Because in this moment nothing else mattered. Nothing but the three of you in this kitchen. 

— 𝜗𝜚✧* ₊˚ෆ՞ so so so sorry this took forever, i’ve been busy but i hope you enjoyed what i write! thank you for this request and thank you for enjoying my writing! i think i might be writing another JJ fic in the future and will defiantly tag you if i do! please don’t hesitate with any other especially cute fluff like this!

[sassatoru]

lovebat

pairing. batfamily x batsis!reader (platonic).

warnings. reader is a demi-god, child of aphrodite, pjo x dc crossover, bruce screwed a goddess and doesn’t even know, mentions of war, canon typical violence mentioned, set during hoo (heroes of olympus), i definitely messed the timeline up a bit, one use of y/n, you end up in a coma, unresolved familial issues, mommy diana, gaia’s dumbass, platonic percy bc percabeth is better than you, i’m fucking tired so rushes ending, no beta sorry,

request. yes / no

a/n. i’m really really sorry for how late this came, i’ve been busy with school crap and exams, and happy birthday lovely. might rewrite after i do part two bc i’m lazy.

You hated Gotham. The stinking streets and the annoying howl of the unnaturally chilly wind. And you hated him, your dad. sure you stayed with him right up until you were old enough to go leave for camp.

Well that was the plan.

You ran. You hated running but you did it, maybe because your dad hadn’t ever been a dad to you, probably because your could see the things that he never could. the strange creatures lingering in alleyways, weird looks you’d get from strangers at you primary school — mostly teachers. They probably thought it was because your big brother had just left you behind because he was mad at your dad. But in truth? You’d been attacked, and like any self preserving ‘human’ being, naturally you ran until you couldn’t run anymore. You were scared, there were things from storybooks and monsters straight out of a fantasy novel coming for you, and you had no idea what to do.

You weren’t really sure how far you’d ran, your only indicator that it was time to stop was the weakness in your knees and the way your nose struggled to get any air into your lungs. You were tired, so so tired, you ran right into a wall, or what you assumed was a wall. That thing chasing you? Definitely not human, had the city been infected with scarecrow’s fear toxin again? No. That was the least of your worries when the wall you bumped into chuckled softly, you shrieked in surprise turning to run the other way, only to be halted by a strong hand on your shoulder.

“Easy now, young one.” A woman’s voice speaks, the leaves crunching as she kneels down to your level, you gawk, recognising the voice of the tv. Wonder Woman. “Where are you off to, hm?” She asks, gently speaking to you, sensing your panic.

“Monsters,” you whisper, on guard again, eyes flicking around to look for them. Diana raises a brow. She’d come by a monster before she found you, but you had seen it, which definitely meant… demigod. No doubt about it.

“Oh really?” She hums curiously.

“You think I’m crazy,” you mutter defensively. She shakes her head, a definite no.

“Never, I saw it too.” She smiles as you light up at the thought of someone actually believing you, of Wonder Woman believing you. “I think I might know a place you’ll be safer at… If you want to go?”

An immediate yes, coming out in the form of a quick nod.

The rest of your journey was accompanied by your hero. ensuring that your trip was safe and successful, and you’d shared many secrets with her over that time too.

Namely? The identity of your father.

It was a bit awkward at first. Diana wasn’t exactly sure what to say. “Bruce? as in…?” she trailed off, her silent question following.

You nod and huff, “yeah, the very same.”

Nonetheless Diana did her duty, explained to you the life of a demigod, or why you might’ve struggled with things other kids would assume simple were easy. Things to reassure you that there was indeed nothing wrong with you. She felt guilty though, knowing Bruce was likely searching for his missing kid but this was the best option for you, not him.

You missed Dick. how does anyone expect a ten year old to just understand that her brother wasn’t coming home because of their dad? Answer, they shouldn’t.

You did your best to never think about them. Not Alfred, not Jason, not your big brother, and not thinking about how your dad hurt you was easy.

Especially when you met Percy, those four years of adventure and probably too many near death experiences were awesome. Percy called you ditzy for thinking so though, something about children of aphrodite being completely blind when it came to anything but love and make up.

He was joking of course, you’d saved his ass too many times for him to think that.

Back to the present though.

You needed away from camp for a bit, and not wanting to burden Percy’s family, especially with all the worrying the woman did about percy alone on — you’d made sally a beautiful gift she kept on her counter top to see everyday and you opted to return to the manor. And hopefully to ease some guilt that’d been eating at you for abandoning your family.

So you returned to the only place you knew. Gotham, not home, but just… Gotham.

Diana, ever the saviour, offered to escort you back, hoping to make it easier for you and Bruce without giving the full story. Mortals, especially sceptics like Bruce shouldn’t know the full existence of a place like camp half-blood, or maybe that was her father’s made up reason. But it was for the safety of those children, they were always in a state of unease, that didn’t need to be multiplied because the Batman is a paranoid freak.

Either way she feels terrible asking you to lie and leaving you stranded in that cursed mansion, Bruce should really get someone to make sure the place wasn’t actually haunted.

The days are quiet and the nights are awkward, with no around at the normal hours of the day and everyone bustling around at sundown.

Any interaction you have with the family is strained and short, though better than being subjected to long and awkward silences though and tough conversations.

Alfred is always as welcoming, just glad to have you back after so many years, even if you gave a rather confusing explanation to where you’d been.

And Duke, a the new guy, he hadn’t been here when you were living at the manor or maybe he was and you were just that out of touch with your father.

No matter, you could appreciate being able to talk to somebody during the day, someone with a normal schedule like yours.

But oh gods, Damian. the little bastard, you swear to Hera you’d have murdered the little bastard if it weren’t for your incredible patience you definitely had not inherited from either of your parents.

The little shit had the audacity to tell you that you were normal, just a civilian who contributed nothing to saving lives, as if you didn’t fight in a war — multiple if you counted the internal war you were constantly having.

But you couldn’t exactly share that. No, that’d be far too easy and life was never easy for demi-gods.

You thought you were making slow progress with your new and old siblings, before that was all interrupted with a iris message from annabeth informing you about Percy’s disappearance and the sudden appearance of a child of Zeus.

And you’re gone again, like the wind, no note or explanation, just an empty room you hadn’t ever really moved into.

You didn’t care though, not when Percy was gone and something was definitely wrong again.

And like a vicious cycle you’re sucked back into your godly parent’s war that no child should ever have to fight for but unfortunately gods are just as childish as lovesick fools.

War is hungry and desperate, eating away at everyone you love until it takes you too.

Percy’s shouts filled your ears, the last sight you’d been given was one of the closest thing you had to a brother rushing towards you before being launched backwards into the ground as you were flung the opposite way, into the ocean.

By the end you’re laid out on the dirt of your mother’s first home, Apollo kids and rookie (barely) healers run around trying to save people. Some don’t make it, and others like you end up unconscious for weeks.

Dionysus, or Mr D as you call him, doesn’t let many things slide, he’s already ready serving eternal punishment with the brats at camp, what’s a couple more years on eternity?

He sends Nico to inform your mortal family of the travesty that occurred and your condition. Diana is far too late to intervene anyways, plus if she really cared she’d have been there with the kids fighting.

So the bat’s are in for the shock of their lives when the scrawny pale Italian boy pops up out of literally nowhere, staring into their souls eerily, in a way that even sets Bruce off.

“Who the hell are you?” Damian hisses first, always the first to recklessly start a fight. Nico barely spares him a glance.

“Y/N is in a coma,” Nico says, eyes trained solely on Bruce. “I’ve been asked to… give you the details.” So he did, offering a vague and cryptic explanation of whatever he could, your demigod status, your role in camp, the war you fought in at 15 and the one you just fought in. The details of your injury and any other detail he could spare before disappearing through the shadows again.

They weren’t given details to find you though, Nico assumed from what you’d shared about your family during the trip across the globe to find Athena Parthenos, that you didn’t want them to find you.

[luuce]

Bowie's sitter

Part 2

wordcount: 5,832

summary: walking your dog really does make you meet new people. When in search of a new sitter for your dog, he seems to have chosen it himself. 

warnings: none, just fluff. 

part 1

························································

You didn’t know the impact Harry had on people or how famous he truly was until you received a text from your little cousin, who lives all the way in Italy, who had texted you a picture of Harry walking with your dog just next to him, followed by a message, “Just saw this picture of Harry Styles and he’s walking a dog who look just like Bowie! What are the odds? Maybe you should meet up and try to get a playdate for them, and who knows, with those resemblances, maybe they are siblings?”

She follows on telling you how there are also pictures of him last week with the same dog doing some shopping at a pet store, and she follows to send you a picture of Harry carrying two bags full of things and Bowie is walking beside him with a ball in his mouth.

That would explain why Harry told you there was no need of you sending Bowie with food, toys and treats to his house, that he only needed his blanket. He truly was knocking this sitter job out of the park and doing more than what it was required.

It has been a couple of weeks since this new dynamic started, and you nor Bowie couldn't be happier. Your camera roll has been filled with the update pictures that Harry sends you every time he’s taking care of your dog while you’re on a shift, and after your first date that happened last week, there started to appear many selfies of Harry and Bowie enjoying their time together.

He took care of everything about your date. Told you to dress casual and that Bowie was invited too, of course. He picked you up in his car, and drove about thirty minutes until you arrived at an open field full of lavender. He opened the car door for you and held your hand before opening the back door to let the dog out, who ran around happy of his freedom. You both just stood there, admiring the view and taking it in. He had prepared a picnic for you three, because yes, he had thought of Bowie too and had brought a few snacks for him too. 

It was the perfect day, just you, him, and Bowie. You talked hours on end about literally anything you could think of, even into a very deep level. You told him about your family, how your mum’s side of the family was Italian and that you were born in Italy, but moved to England when you were three because of your father’s job. 

“Do you see yourself living more here or in Italy?” He had asked really curiously.

“I don’t know, actually. I love living here, but also a big part of me would love to live there, closer to my family. Maybe I will buy a house there in the future, work a few months here and a few months there, but I don’t know, seems like could get tiring all the back and forth, but what I would really love is to settle down and have children and for them to have a home, whether that is here or in Italy.” 

He told you a bit about his life on tour, how he understands the need to settle down in one place and build a home. He also surprises you by speaking Italian, and you end up having most of the conversation in that language. He talks about his love for the country and how he travels there often, telling you also about the end of his last tour, which had taken place in Italy, and how special it was.

You were truly mesmerized by him, by how quickly you’ve fallen comfortable with him, by how much he cares about your dog, because you’ve met people previously who barely tolerated him, and for you, your dog was like your child, so treating him poorly would make you dislike anyone quite fast. But with Harry, everything felt easy, perfect.

You were on your morning walk with Bowie when he started to decide which way you would go, and seeing as you had no plan, you decided to just follow him to see where he would lead you to, although you were not expecting him to just sit down in front of a door and start barking. 

“Hey, no, don’t bark.” You try to shush him but he doesn’t stop, “Bowie, stop. What are you doing?”

You try pulling on his leash but he just laid on the floor, making it much harder for you to move him. He suddenly stopped barking and started wagging his tail, and just when you thought he would comply and follow you, he jumped and ran behind you. His leash rounded your feet and the next thing you know, you’re falling down. But just as you’re about to hit the ground, somebody catches you.

“Woah, are you okay?”

It 's Harry. You’ve been saved by Harry. 

“What happened, Bowie? You almost made your mum fall.”

Bowie just wages his tail as he looks at him, tongue out. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” You say “he dragged me here just to stop at that door and start barking.”

Harry just started laughing. “That’s my house, actually.”

“Oh, that would explain it all.” You laugh with him.

It’s in that moment when you really look at him and take him in. He’s all sweaty and wearing a cap and sunglasses as always, along with his short shorts and a short sleeve t-shirt. 

“Would you like to come in? I need a quick shower, but after I could make you coffee, if you’d like.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose, really.”

He shakes his head “Not at all. Come in. Unless you had plans for the day, if that’s the case then we can do it on another day.”

“Oh, no plans, no. I was actually going to text you and see if you would like to spend the afternoon with Bowie and me.”

He smiles and leads you towards the door. “There’s no need to text me now, I would really love to spend time with you both.”

You smile and follow him. Once the door’s open, you both go inside and Bowie barks happily. Harry reaches down and unleashes him and he holds his hand out for you to hand him the leash. Bowie just runs towards the door of the house and sits patiently waiting for us to arrive there.

“I’ll just take a quick shower and will be right back. In the meantime, you can look around if you like. I can give you a tour after, or just follow Bowie around, he knows where most things are now.” 

You laugh at that, because that’s probably true. 

“Okay, yes, don’t worry. I promise not to snoop around too much.”

“Oh, please do.”

He smirks and leaves to go upstairs and shower. You look around the entrance of the house and see a few portraits. You get closer to look at the pictures of who you imagine are his family and friends. You take notice of Bowie’s leash that’s hanging on the wall, and how it looks so in place within this space. Suddenly your dog barks at you and starts walking, as if to tell you to follow him, and you do. He takes you into what looks to be the living room and he goes straight into a corner, where there’s a box filled with dog toys and balls. He picks one up and starts walking through a corridor, and you can’t help but follow him. He takes you through the kitchen where he stops at the glass door at the end of the room and sits, waiting for you to open it. 

“You’re sneaky, huh? You knew from the beginning what you were doing, didn’t you?” You tell him as you reach him and open the door. 

It takes you to a huge backyard where Bowie runs happily. After a few laps around, he drops the ball from his mouth into your feet and runs back. You throw the ball at him and watch him run around until he brings it back and you throw it again. You play catch for a while, all while taking in your surroundings. He has a little garden in the corner which you get closer to so you can see what flowers he has. It looks really well taken care of, and it looks so beautiful. 

“It seems you have found Bowie’s favourite part of the house.” You hear Harry say.

You turn around to look at him and you see him walking towards you, not before throwing the ball for Bowie to run after. 

“Hm, yes, he brought me straight here to play. I love your garden.”

“Thanks, love. I take full pride in it.” He smiles at you and he reaches for your hand. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Would love one, thank you.”

He pulls at your hand and takes you back inside. He pulls at one of the stools from the kitchen and motions for you to sit down. 

“How do you take your coffee?”

“With milk it’s perfect, thank you.”

He moves around the kitchen while he gets everything ready.

“How was your walk this morning?” He asks while the coffee machine starts.

“Short.” You laugh. “Bowie brought me straight here. I think he was onto something.”

“I may have told him to bring you.”

“I don’t think he’s that smart yet.”

You both laugh at that and he puts your coffee in front of you. You both look at Bowie through the glass to see him running around.

“He loves it here, I can tell. Thank you for taking care of him for me, it means a lot.”

“It’s my pleasure, I love having him here.” 

He invites you to drink the coffee outside on the porch, where he has a swing bench that you both sit on. As soon as Bowie sees you, he starts running towards you and jumps on top of you, making you almost drop your coffee. 

“Hey, careful my love.” You tell your dog who decides to sit between you two.

“He 's so sweet. Always wants to be close to one.” Harry says as he pets him.

“Yes, I actually love it. People have told me how annoying it is that I spoil him too much, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I would prefer a clingy and loving dog who gives you kisses and is always happy to be with you rather than one who prefers their space and would never get close to one.”

You gasp at that. “That’s what I always say!”

The way you both look at each other is something you haven’t experienced before with anyone. You both look so happy, so content with your space. Before you know it, you both start leaning towards each other, he looks down to your lips and then into your eyes, as if silently asking if this was okay. You close the gap between you as you put your lips on his. The hand that isn’t holding his coffee cup goes to your cheek as he kisses you, falling into the feeling of you both involved in a kiss. You lean more into him, trying not to squish Bowie who’s still laying down between you two, although with the movement he seems to prefer going down to the floor than be there between you. 

Time moves differently when you are just enjoying your moment. You’ve wanted to feel closer to him, almost ending up sitting on his lap, careful not to spill the coffee cup you’re still holding. You separate to take some air, smiling at each other as you take it in. His hand moves from your cheek to your lower back, leading you to sit on his lap, which you do, sitting sideways and with your legs laying onto the bench you’re both sitting on. You lean your head on him, as you both watch Bowie play around, who, as soon as he spots you, runs back again and jumps into your lap.

“He’s the sweetest boy.” Harry says as he pets his head.

“And you’re the sweetest man.”

He grabs both your empty coffee cups and leaves them on the table next to him. Then one hand goes to pet Bowie again and the other goes to your cheek, bringing you into another kiss. This time, it doesn’t last long as Bowie tries to interfere and get some kisses to himself, to which you both laugh. 

“He wants some loving too” You say as you bring him closer to you both.

Harry wraps one arm around you and another around Bowie, folding you two into a group hug. Bowie starts showing how happy he is by filling your face with kisses and he then does the same to Harry. Laughter fills the air as you three spend time together, almost like a little family. 

“So,” you say when you recover from the laughter. “It's our boy’s second birthday next Tuesday.”

“Oh, is it? Why didn’t you tell me, buddy?”

Bowie just barks at him. 

“I work the night shift that day but I was thinking of taking him to the park and maybe baking him a dog cake so he can eat it, I don’t know the specifics yet, but I was wondering if you would like to spend that day with us, celebrating the birthday boy.”

“There’s nothing I would love more than to spend that day with you both. And, can I be honest?”

You sit a little bit better to be able to look at his eyes clearly. “You can always be honest with me.”

“I like you. A lot. And I also love Bowie, I don’t know what I would do without him. And the more time I spend with you, the more I want to keep doing so. So yes, I would love to spend that day with you, and also any other day, if you would have me.”

“I would love that.”

You lean over to kiss him again. Spending more time with him is something you are dying to do, almost as if you were craving it. Doing life alone can be rough, that’s why you adopted Bowie, with him everything feels nicer, but since meeting Harry, you have felt as if you were in a bubble of happiness and giddiness and you were hoping it wouldn’t pop off ever.

You lay there with Harry for what feels like hours, until he asks if you’re hungry so he would make lunch. You follow him back to his kitchen and you can’t help but admire everything around it.

“I think this would be my dream kitchen. I love cooking, and this kitchen would keep me trapped all day, I love it.”

Harry laughs. “You can come use it anytime you’d like, door’s always open for you.”

“That’s so nice of you.”

“I mean, as long as I can accompany you and I get a portion of it.”

“Oh, so you would use me.”

You both laugh and he hands you a plate of food. He then grabs his and sits next to you on the kitchen island. 

“No, but seriously, you can use it anytime. I have everything you may need, and if I don’t, just tell me and I’ll buy it.” 

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.”

You smile and nod. “Okay, then. Can I make you dinner?”

“What were you thinking of making?”

“Pesto Pasta. But I’m making it all from scratch, you’re going to love it.”

“Sounds delicious, I’ll help. I don’t know if I have all the ingredients, but we can go later and grab some.”

“That would be perfect, yes.” 

You both enjoy your lunch and then you casually grab some paper he has near and a pen and start writing down the ingredients that you need. Harry is looking around the kitchen looking for things you’re going to need and letting you know what other things you should write down. It’s a good dynamic that you have going on. Later, with your bellies full of food and after some rest along with Bowie, you three go out on a walk to the park.

Beautiful day out, sunny weather which leads to more people to be out on the streets. The park is full of life, some kids running around playing, some having picnics, and even people just enjoying the sun. There’s an area full of dogs and Bowie, once he’s free, runs towards them and starts smelling them, on his way to make new friends. He starts playing with a dog a little bit smaller than him and you can tell that he’s being careful while playing, not trying to scare him off. 

“He’s so good with other dogs.” Harry says as he casually puts his arm around your shoulders and drags you more towards him.

“Times like this make me want to consider getting him a sibling, but I don’t know if I could deal with two dogs all on my own.” 

“I think we could make it work.”

“Hm, would you like shared custody?” You laugh.

“I would like to do it together, if you’d like.”

You turn a bit in his embrace, rounding your arms around his sternum and hugging yourself closer to him. He throws his other arm around your neck and looks down at you. 

“Don’t you think we’re going too fast? I mean, we’ve known each other for a few weeks and we’re already talking about getting a dog together.”

“I think that when you know, you know, and I really want to see us together moving forward.”

“I would love that too. But I would hold on getting another dog for a bit, though. I want to enjoy a bit of us time before we have to involve ourselves into taking care of another puppy.”

“Okay, that sounds perfect to me.” 

He leans down and kisses you. You end up holding each other while looking out for Bowie, who seems really happy running around with the other dogs. Harry seems to go rigid for a moment in your grasp, and he moves the both of you around and drags your head closer to his chest.

“I’m sorry, there’s someone taking pictures of us.”

“Oh, um, okay? Sorry, I don’t know how to react to that.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either, you know?” You make him look at you. “It’s not your fault that people think they have the right to take pictures of you just because you’re a public figure. Just because you decided to be a singer, doesn’t mean you have to accept that invasion of privacy.”

“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“You can always lean on me, you know?”

Suddenly you start feeling more pressure since he’s, quite literally, leaning on you. You wobble a little bit and move your leg back to hold both your weights. 

“But not quite literally!”

You both start hysterically laughing and you almost fall to the ground, more so when Bowie comes running towards you and crashes on your legs. He barks happily as a way to be included into what’s happening. Harry seems to recover a bit faster than you and holds you closer to him again, one of his hands now holding the small of your back, the other pushing your hair a bit back from your face.

“Shall we head back?” He asks you.

“We shall.”

He puts the leash on Bowie and holds your hand, interlocking your fingers with his as you three start walking towards the shop. You banter a bit about who’s going into the shop, and Harry insists that he should, that since it’s his house he should be the one paying, but you reply back, telling how since he’s putting the house, you’re paying for the food. It took you a bit, but finally he agreed and he was the one who stayed outside of the shop with Bowie. He catches on the corner of his eye the same paparazzi from before, taking pictures of him. He acts indifferent to it as he grabs his phone to distract himself while he waits. 

“Baby, do you want white or red?”

He’s caught completely off guard when he hears your voice, mostly because you called him baby, which makes his heart beat a bit faster than normal. He looks up from his phone at you, and he sees you smiling back at him at the door, holding two different bottles of wine.

“I think white goes better with pesto, what do you think?” You ask him again.

“Uhm, yes, that’s perfect.”

His response comes back a bit quiet, but you get to hear it. You smile at yourself and go back into the shop. You’ve left Harry feeling like quite a mess outside. Once you have all you need, you pay and go outside to meet your boys. Harry is smiling and makes you swap Bowie’s leash he’s holding with the bag you’re carrying, so that he can, with his other hand, hold yours. You both head back to his house in silence, and you can feel how Harry is holding something back. You can tell that Bowie is getting excited and knows where he’s going when you turn the corner, and his steps come a little bit faster to make him arrive sooner. 

As soon as you arrive, you take off his leash, and put it in the spot you know Harry has reserved for him, and next, you follow Harry to the kitchen where he has left the bag on the counter. When you open the bag to start taking out things, you can feel how Harry comes from behind and wraps his arms around your waist, his head on your shoulder.

“What did you call me just back there?”

“Oh?”

“Hm, you know, when you came to ask me about the wine. What did you call me?”

You smile. Because yes, it may have slipped when you called him that, but it had also come natural to do so, and you don’t regret it, much less now that you know the impact it made on him.

You leave the bag and turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Baby?.”

He nods and smiles. He leans down and kisses you.

“You like it when I call you baby?” You whisper before going for another kiss.

“I love it.”

You talk between kisses. One hand going to the back of his head. “Baby, my baby.”

You feel some pressure on your shin and then a cry. Harry and you separate and look down to see Bowie crying between you two.

“Oh, my sweets, you’re my baby too, don’t worry.”

Harry leans down and picks him up, bringing him between you two for a hug and kisses.

“You will always come first, Bow” Harry tells him, and it literally melts your heart.

After a cuddle of all three of you, you decide that it’s time you start elaborating dinner. You decide to start first with the pesto so it can later rest a bit in the fridge while you’re making the pasta. Harry insists on helping you, but you make him sit back with a promise that he could help out later, as long as he plays good music while you’re cooking.

“I was born for that job” He says as he gets up and leaves the kitchen, only to come back a few moments later with his laptop in hand. “Any preferences?”

“I’ll let you choose, you’re the expert.” 

He starts playing music, and it’s no surprise, Fleetwood Mac. That man truly listens. You ask him to show you where he keeps everything, and once you’re a little familiar with it, you feel as if you were in your own kitchen. You first start by squeezing the juice out of a few lemons and then put that, alongside the nuts and garlic into the food processor. You wash all the basil first before putting it into it too, and then while it’s processing, you add the olive oil little by little. Once it’s all done, you add the grated parmesan and process it again, finishing it up. 

“Okay, this is done. Now to the fridge.” 

Harry helps you clean up what you’ve already used and then helps you by getting all the ingredients and utensils you will use for the pasta. Now, making the pasta together is quite fun. You both end up with flour all over you and laughing like there’s no tomorrow. You don’t think you have laughed as much as you’ve done today. You take a few dance breaks in between, Harry making you spin around the kitchen and you, in turn, make him do a few spins too, which makes you laugh all over again. 

Once you finish, you let the pasta just sit there until it’s time to cook it, and in the meantime, Harry opens up the bottle of wine and serves you a glass. You thank him, taking a sip of it while looking around.

“Where’s Bowie?” 

Harry looks around too and doesn’t see him either. “Maybe he’s taking a nap.”

You both leave your glasses on the counter and start looking around. You went to look outside but he didn’t seem to be there, so you followed Harry into the living room but you didn't see him there either. 

“Maybe I can take you on a tour of the house while we’re at it.”

He holds your hand and leads you to a closed door. He opens it and steps aside so you can go in first. You can see a piano in the corner, a few guitars around and tons of other instruments, along with some microphones.

“This is my little studio at home. Doesn’t have much but it helps me when inspiration strikes. I usually rent studios once I know I’m fully going into something.”

“This is really nice, Harry. You’re gonna have to play me something sometime.”

He leads you back to the main room and shows you a small guest room, also the small laundry room and the garage he has, which is connected to a small gym which has the basic necessities for him to train at home. He then leads you upstairs showing you two other guest rooms with their respective bathrooms and lastly his room, which you can see one of the two doors open. When you both go in, you find Bowie sleeping in the middle of the bed by the pillows.

“This is my room, as you can tell.”

“He looks so comfortable there, my heart.”

He hugs you from behind as you both take a moment to admire the sleeping dog. After a bit, you both go down and he tells you to sit on the sofa while he gets the wine. You end up sitting there for a while, all until your phone starts ringing all the way from the kitchen.

“Just leave it. I’ll call back.” You tell him as you try to relax back. But once it stops, it starts ringing again and you groan. “Okay, let me see who it is.”

You get up and leave your glass on the coffee table while you go into the kitchen to grab the phone. You see that it’s a facetime call from your cousin, and you decline it and go to text her, but before you can do so she texts: “PICK UP!!!”, so you do so the next facetime she does. 

“SONO LO STESSO CANE?!” It’s the first thing she says as soon as you pick up. (They are the same dog?)

“Nessun saluto? Come stai?” You reply before you hear Harry’s laugh from the other room. You start walking back to your seat. “E che significa che sono lo stesso cane?” (No hello? How are you? And what do you mean they are the same dog?)

“Ci sono foto di te, Bowie e Harry Styles in un parco?” (There are pictures of you, Bowie and Harry Styles in a park.)

You immediately look at Harry who is picking up his phone and looking it up. “Are there?” You specifically ask him. He nods and shows you his screen, where you can see the both of you hugging and then a few more of you outside the shop, hand in hand and with Bowie.

“Sei con lui?” (Are you with him?) 

Harry nods his head at you, and you turn your phone so she can see him, and as soon as she does, she hangs up. You both laugh.

“Who was she?”

“My little cousin. I think she’s a big fan of yours, she sent me a picture of you and Bowie the other day and she thought you had adopted a sibling of his. I just told her I had to find you and see for myself.”

“And find me you did.”

He pulls you into a kiss and you smile. You lay there together for a little while until you hear the sound of paws hitting the floor, and you can perfectly hear how he’s coming down the stairs. A moment later Bowie appears in front of you and he stops, takes a big stretch, and when he’s done he jumps into Harry’s lap.

“Hey buddy, how was your nap?” Harry asks as he starts scratching behind his ear.

Bowie just cuddles more into him, looking for more affection. You grab your phone and use it to snap a picture.

“Come here you too. Let’s take a family picture.” Harry says and opens one of his arms so you can get closer.

You put the phone on selfie mode and take a picture of you three. You love it. You look so happy, and you are. 

“Should we make dinner?” You ask after being in that position for a while now.

“Yes, I’m starving, can’t wait to try your pasta.”

Harry takes the lead back to the kitchen and starts by getting out a pot and filling it with water. You both start preparing dinner together and while the pasta is boiling, Harry tells you that you can play music from his laptop if you want and that he will feed Bowie. You grab his laptop and press play on the music from before as watch him open a cabinet where he takes out a bag full of food and he prepares it into a bowl. You’re falling, it’s inevitable. You’ve never felt the way you’re feeling with Harry, and how he does not only take care of you, but he also takes really good care of your dog.

He puts the bowl down on the floor for Bowie to eat and brings back the bag into the cabinet, and you can’t help but meet him in the middle, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling at him, which he returns to you.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

He kisses you as you both sway in the middle of the kitchen to the sound of the music. You stay there, enjoying your moment until the timer goes off for the pasta. Harry tells you to sit down and that he will take care of the rest and you do as told. He brings both of your wine glasses back full, and then he comes back carrying two plates full of pasta.

“Buon appetito.” He tells you when he puts your plate down.

“Anche per te.” (You too.)

He had turned down the music a bit and now it was more of a background noise as you both dig in and make conversation. 

“I feel this might be the best pasta I’ve ever had.” He says after a few minutes.

“Thank you, baby. Teamwork.”

“Oh no, baby, this was all you.”

Now, hearing him calling you baby made your heart beat ten times faster. Harry can’t help but enjoy the effect those words caused on you, because it was just the same he had felt earlier in the afternoon. 

You both finish your dinner, and you can’t help but think back to the amazing day you have spent together with him. You’ve never felt the need of being closer to anyone this fast, you’re feeling as if you have met your match, and you’re scared that he would slip away any moment, although his words today have shown you just the opposite, just reaffirming that what you have right now, is it. You’re both in it, completely, no fooling around, no beating around the bush, no. You’re both in it for the long haul, having made a connection truly unique, unlike any other before, and you can only see yourself moving forward, creating more memories, learning new things from one another, because yes, you may not know each other for that long, but a connection like the one you have, shouldn’t be looked over or ignored, no, it should be explored, and you can’t wait to start doing so, can’t wait to fall, can’t wait to laugh, can’t wait to learn, can’t wait to love. Because you’re both in it, and you wouldn’t have any other way.

When you realise that it’s getting late you start to collect your things, along with getting Bowie ready. Harry seems a little sad you’re both leaving, he would have asked you to stay, but he thought he might be pushing it too far and wouldn’t want to scare you off. He walks you both to the door, and he can’t help but reach for a kiss goodnight.

“How about you come over tomorrow for breakfast? After your run? I think it’s my turn on the house tour, although don’t expect much, it will be much shorter” 

Harry can’t help but laugh at that. “Okay, sounds like a plan. I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, baby”

A groan comes out of his throat before he can help it, bringing you back into a kiss. And another one, for good measure. After one last kiss, he kneels on the ground to also give some kisses to Bowie, who immediately returns them and starts liking his face, which makes you laugh. After some really long goodbye, both Bowie and you start on your journey home.

“Text me when you arrive.”

You look back at him and smile. “Will do.”

There’s a skip on your step on your stroll back home, the smile on your face permanent, and the happiness inside is completely full. Both Bowie and you are really lucky to have met him, and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for your little family.

[theotherbuckley]

Maddie knew that there were risks, having another baby at her age. But risks were one thing to consider, yeah it was possible… but you never really expected them to actually happen to you. 

Getting told during her ultrasound that her baby boy would likely have Down syndrome, scared her a lot more than she’d like to admit. She knew she’d love her baby no matter what, but she was not immune to being scared. 

Scared of ruining her child’s life. Scared of running away. Scared of not being good enough for a boy who’d need her most.

Howie was ecstatic to learn he was having a baby boy. It didn’t faze him that his son would probably have Down syndrome. He didn’t care. He was over the moon with joy. 

Maddie wished she could be more like that. But she was worried. Worried that she wasn’t built for this. She wasn’t even there for Jee when she should have been. Still, she tries so hard not to dwell on the past, the what ifs.

When Lee Robert Han is born, she knows she’s fallen in love all over again. He’s smiling even as a newborn, looking up at her with his almond-shaped eyes sparkling. And yeah, she’s in love with her baby. 

She’s scared though, underneath the immense love she feels there’s this nagging voice inside. She’s still so fucking scared because she did this to her baby, and what if she’s not a good enough mom for him?

Everyone tells her how beautiful he is (she knows), and everyone congratulates them, eyes watering over the tribute to Bobby. But nobody really talks about it. Except Buck spewing facts he’d learnt in his latest research binge so that he could ensure he’d be the favourite uncle to the little boy. She’s so grateful for him, but nobody else really acknowledges the implications of the boy’s condition, until…

“Hey,” Eddie says, sitting down beside her bed. 

The two have never been close, which is surprising considering the man is her brother’s best friend, her husband’s colleague, and part of her extended family. Regardless, she’s a little surprised when he stays behind once everyone else has left for the night, and Howie home with Jee. 

“Hi, Eddie,” she replies back a little curiously.

Eddie fidgets beside her, mouth opening and closing like he’s figuring out what to say. She recognises the time to be quiet and waits whilst he gathers himself, finally articulating his thoughts.

“When Christopher was diagnosed with CP I reenlisted for a second tour,” Eddie starts, and Maddie lets out a small involuntary breath as she processes what he’s telling her. 

“I told myself then, that it was to provide for my family. You know, medical bills are expensive. That’s what I said. Shannon was furious. And I told myself I was doing the right thing for them.” Eddie takes a breath and Maddie waits patiently for him to continue, her eyes flickering to her baby laid in the crib beside her.

“I didn’t leave because of the money. We could have figured it out. I left because I was so damn afraid. And I didn’t wanna screw that kid up. Shannon kept telling me that she was sorry and that she didn’t know how to fix it. Like, it was her fault that Chris has CP and that that meant something was wrong with him. For a long time, I let her apologise, because I was scared too. But I regret not being there for her then, not being there for both of them. I wouldn’t change Christopher for the world. And I know that if she were here, she’d feel the same.”

There’s tears falling down Maddie’s cheeks as he speaks. She tells herself it’s the hormones but it’s not. 

“Eddie…”

”At the start, I know she was scared, and I know she blamed herself as though she’d hurt her son. But Christopher is Christopher, and I love him so much.” Eddie looks up at Maddie, staring her in the eyes. “I’m telling you this because I know— I know other people don’t really understand. But listen to me when I say, you didn’t fail your boy. He’s perfect.”

She chokes out an involuntary sob at his words. Melting into his touch when he wraps an arm around her pulling her gently into his side. Offering up a little bit of comfort which she takes eagerly.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “I want to be there for him, for everything, I don’t want to run this time. But— but sometimes I just worry that maybe he’d be better off if I did,” she admits, verbalising her internal thoughts. She was too scared of upsetting Howie, but Eddie— Eddie seems to understand.

Eddie shakes his head. “I can’t go back in time and change how I reacted then. But I can be here now and tell you that we are all here for you. And I know you’re going to raise an amazing boy. Just remember he’s not broken, and you’re not broken. I— I wish Shannon were here because I know that she’d understand, more than I do, but I’m here if you need anything. Okay?”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“Of course,” he says, standing up. “I’ll let you get some rest.”

She lets him go before scooping her son into her arms. She feels lighter already, even though her worries still plague her. She’s not alone, her family is there and she doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

“I love you,” she whispers to the bundle sleeping against her chest. “I love you.”

For @hiineedholywater who came up with the idea for Lee 💜

@911hiatuspositivity Kid fic

[ilianasbruce]

heyyy I truly love how you write for Bruce and had a curious ask that maybe could also be a x reader kinda request - what would it take for him to cry or show really heavy emotion (either in front of the reader or in private)? I feel like he’s good at masking emotions but feels so much without knowing how to express them but idk I’m so interested to hear your thoughts :)

“Somewhere in the Gotham, there’s a wounded bat.”

word count: 4,090

summary: your Bruce and his vulnerability.

warnings: mentions of sexual intercourse. minors do not interact, please.

notes: hi, hi!! ♡ i want to thank you for your amazing vision, dear and i wanted to speak my mind on this!! and my other dears who requested the other pieces, i promise i’ll be delivering them in following weeks!! love you, mwah!!! ♡

My dearest stranger, I’ll answer this question of yours in a few different directions. I usually tend to answer the questions through his psychological breakdown, so for this one, I want to start with it until we reach the answer to your inquiry.

Bruce, specifically the young and ‘early Batman years’, was something else — a different breed. He was not a child anymore but at the same time, was the same angry and devastated boy inside. Young Bruce, twenty-five when he came back to Gotham, was headstrong and arrogant in his vision. So, we must look into these factors before we dissect his psychology and reach the answer to your intriguing question.

Bruce was fresh out of his training for twelve years with an incredible amount of things he had seen and learnt. He, somehow knew what he was but it was still impossible to know what your true desires were without a few years of practice on the field.

Young, Bat Bruce in his few years was focusing on one thing: Gotham. He tried not to heed anything other than his mission. But, of course, it was unimaginable that Gotham and her people did not affect him in some ways.

I’ll give a few timelines for you — it’s up to you which timeline you want to meet Bruce and each timeline will give us a different perspective I hope. Before we dive into the timeline, we must know that in all of them in my opinion, Bruce struggles with trust and vulnerability. That is the main factor, because he is not to blame in the situation since his care and love were used against him, his morals and perspective about love. It is deeply rooted in him and we’ll see it in every, early periods of his relationship with the reader.

The first timeline is if you met Bruce one year of becoming Bat, with no one else before you. I personally love this timeline, because in my many works and mind, I usually imagine Bruce in those moments when he had found the sole person in his life who never put him in dreadful situations about love. Bruce, as I mentioned in my other pieces, is a lover. He even admitted the power of his love in his comics (Batman: The Knight). I heavily support this version of him, because it is, — supposed to be the main fuel why Bruce chose the path to become who he is today. He has enough love for his city and humanity.

And if we say that Bruce loves deeply, we are never wrong. I’m so fucking tired of people and modern comic writers painting him as a terrible individual and lover when in fact, he is the most intense lover we could see. He is the hope of Gotham, a disciplined soul who tries to protect the people’s lives from the same kind of traumas that stained and shattered his whole life forevermore. How can we overlook this, when Bruce literally loves and cares for people? And they dare to write him an abusive, morally terrible man when in reality Bruce is the whole opposite of it? I think it is the worst case to put him down, to represent and paint him as the man he would never be in any universe.

I can give a basic example, draw a line to show how the mere simple things are accepted about him proves the point of Bruce being a lover.

His playboy persona. It is the most basic instance, too easy to prove his love life.

Do we really think and accept that Bruce was a natural seducer? That he was blessed with that personality? That he never needed a teacher to guide him how to manipulate and get into people’s minds? That he was a siren to pull them and use them for a mere release? Do we?

Bruce, in fact, was the boy (if we are talking about his teenage years) who was already darkened with his tragedy but still had the capability of pure love. He was the complete opposite of being a player, never bearing an inch of temptation in his body to lure them. He had true intentions as a decent person since the murder of his parents, and as he believed in justice, he believed in the truthfulness, pureness of love, too. If he loved, he’d mean it. He ached for both emotional and physical connection. He’d never chase the feeling of altering his partners over and over again, seducing them as much as he wanted.

This notion comes from his moral and ethical traits, his own pure and virtuous intentions. He was never a deceiver in love and he ached for a true understanding, even though he was unaware of it. Bruce had his time to learn about the master of seduction and manipulation from his mentors, then he sharpened them in his ongoing Batman years because he understood that the world revolved around something else that was against his morals. And he was okay with that since it was the only thing that let him achieve his lifetime mission.

We saw his despise, his difference from the playboy Bruce Wayne, clashing with each other overly because that’s not who he is. It is the a mere example of his psychological inclination.

So, here comes the interesting part about Bruce’s preferences in love as we saw in the comics. The real justification why Bruce was caught up in a romantic tension with chaotic ‘love interests’ is because of the unconscious roots of his morals and trauma. (Bear with me, please.) I had seen on internet once, an user saying that Bruce was specifically into the morally wrong women, (which I’m heavily agreeing with it) — I mean Selina or Talia, it was because he was senselessly into the idea of helping them in the back of his mind; (the one he did not even dive into) and bringing ‘justice’ into their worlds. That’s why I never accept a ‘criminal x hero’ love story which for years Bruce had been written in this trope, because when we dissect the psychology part, it’s just Bruce being unconsciously tied to ‘prove, settle’ something in them. It could never be romantic love, because love stands for different things. The same goes for the ‘enemies-to-lovers’ situation, too. I never understand why a person would love their actual enemy, realistically it is very unlikely for me to grasp the idea and that’s why I loathe the trope indeed; because under everything, we have buried factors that we’re able to look into with them to the main justifications of our preferences. Then, we can decide whether it is real or a trauma response to our tragedies.

Same goes for Bruce, too. It is the main reason why he has complexity and we need to value him through the fundamental, realistic factors. (but that’s just me. I’ve no judgment of people, though. I love to hear about people’s experiences and likes. ♡)

Thus, if we can dive deeper, we can understand Bruce’s ‘comic’ preferences for chaotic, criminal people and his inner struggles with vulnerability through them. (’Catwoman & Batman’ is the result of pure male fantasy, no one can change my mind on this. I never have respect or support for characters written like Selina, which is one of the reasons why I am against the relationship between ’Bat and Cat’.)

The real reason I wanted to include this section of my thoughts because I wanted to show the real contrast of Bruce’s character, because I do really believe that Bruce needs a decent partner who isn't clawing or clashing him, but supporting and loving him with decent, normal, and realistic morals. We need to focus on these since I’ll explain Bruce’s struggles and vulnerability.

If Bruce met the reader before everything, in the first year of his Bat-years, he’d learn to be open with the reader as much as he could. I imagine him, as a young lover and husband, he’d be too inclined to his lover. You could — did basically teach him the meaning of marriage and love, and he’d gladly accept it. Bruce loves to orbit around his lover, relishing in your love. Your love was pure, there was no intention behind your motives — just true love, unconditional and endless for him. You weren't there to ‘claw’ your way out or fight him for your goals, you were simply there to love him — the idea of love that he’d carved into his brain from his deceased parents.

Speaking of his parents, I truly believe why Bruce would be into the marriage as soon as he’d found you, specifically in his younger years, not only because he loved you and did not bear to think about losing you, but it was also engraved in his mind from his parents.

His beloved parents’ love was the only role model of romantic love in his life and he’d embrace it contentedly. He’d seen how his father loved his mother, his dear mother that Bruce only flourished in her love heavily, even though we know Martha had struggled with serious issues. His father’s devotion and support of his mother no matter what were pure love in Bruce’s mentality. And just imagine, if Bruce found his partner, he’d definitely cherish them from this perspective.

The idea of marriage became something sacred for him like the old texts preached. It was intimate and enigmatic for him, the idea and reality. He loved the thrill of it, loved the idea of finally having someone to himself without sacrificing or fighting through the years. You were the main reason everything around and in him altered. From this view, marriage with you was something that Bruce ached for.

There are many things we can say about Bruce’s idea of marriage (let this be another day’s theme) from the things we had talked about above, but one thing that Bruce wanted marriage because he wanted to be intertwined with you and your soul forevermore. As soulmates. As the never-ending bond, even in another life.

If you were his young partner, like he was as young as you, you were the one who taught him vulnerability. This is my view surely. Because just imagine, how he was elated when you became his and as your Moon orbiting around you, do we really think he’d not accept your motives? His precious lover, who’d kiss his scars and sleep right next to him every night in the sheets of your wedlock bed, became the first thing he saw in the early morning glow though the heavy curtains?

You’ve mentioned that he was good at masking his emotions, but if your Bruce was the one in this timeline that I explained, I do slightly believe that he’d let his thoughts out in the next period of time. But, again, as you have a point, not that smoothly. But through patience and some time. I can see that in your early years of marriage, as you’d trust him lovingly and let him see you, he’d be starting to do the same. Yet, Bruce still would be struggling to be open at first.

There is one thing in my head that Bruce loves to pillow talk, like literally! I think it is the sweetness and the peace after you two had sex and he was delighting in you every single time. I had once mentioned in my pieces that Bruce being into skin to skin with you, it did not matter if it was sexual or not. And after sex, the minutes were one of the moments he’d look forward to. It was the exact moment when he started to be vulnerable with you at first in my beliefs.

Foremost, it was his showing of love, speaking to you about whatever you wanted to converse about or simply listening to you as you were cuddling him. But afterwards, it started to turn to his every emotion. Anger or breakdown, depression or exhaustion, elation or thrill — anything. He was feeling so good in your arms, even in his weariness. Nonetheless, if he was broken, you’d immediately know from his posture and he wouldn’t even bother to hide. You may think why he was effortlessly speaking about his worries? It leads us to the words I’ve preached above: Bruce was both trying to let you see him as you did for him and he believed in the holiness of marriage, that he shouldn't be holding back when you were there, right next to him forevermore.

He’d not repress himself, he’d let his words out as you were urging him every single time. Marriage was supposed to be carried out by two souls and when you were too trusting and in love with him, who was he to defy his own feelings for you? Who was he to hold back himself when he ached for understanding and love through his years, specifically when he had found his soulmate? He’d be bursting out his words, sometimes overly rigid to speak or utter and you’d listen, supporting and understanding him over and over again.

Sometimes, he could speak in a complicated manner since he’d have a hard time explaining his thoughts — yet, you were there, as if he were the Sun and that’d be enough for him to continue. And through the years, as you two started to live a life together, it became too easy to let his thoughts out to you. You’d look at him and know he was planning to mutter a word.

This is one haul: your husband could be struggling at first slightly and naturally, since he never felt this powerful about someone to have their hand in marriage. And, let me add this, he’d be excessively excited to have a spouse, (my shayla, my shayla ♡) and he’d be beaming to the Moon and back to speak to you about his thoughts since you’d nurture him heavily to be more vulnerable with you, which would last forevermore.

The other take, however, is if you did meet Bruce after two to three years of being Batman and he, well, he was after a toxic situationship. God, here it comes.

I wanted to show this timeline, since I do believe we can explore that. Your Bruce would be restraining himself about both vulnerability and emotions until it started to be an issue between you two during the early years. His love had been used against him again and again, yet here he was in love with you. But you were there evermore, never intending to leave him after seducing him for your liking, slightly having him let his guard down, and then telling him how it was not good for both of you, your entire relationship solely based on a time-wasting hour sex and tension in the name of you feeling a connection after the tough times in your life.

No.

No one could be equal to you and that was the thing.

You were so lovely, loving him truly for who he was and solely for him. But he was forced to fight his efforts to prevent your love due to trauma of his shitty situationship that male authors’ fantasy was filled through it, a “femme fatale” and her own criminal goals that left your Bruce too fucked up. Once the essence of sex, the intimacy between the real lovers was now ruined for the lover Bruce.

It’d taken him long, to confess his feelings to himself to let you in. It was still the love at first sight, but your Bruce was unconsciously afraid of his heart being broken again, thus he was halting himself over and over again, until he couldn't bear to stay away from you. We can never blame him; he let and trusted a few people and they left him on the road for their selfish motives — none of them acknowledging and caring, never altering themselves as Bruce would for them. He was still there, with his caring heart and he was left alone because love was nothing more than a sexual tension. The love they don't even know the meaning of that led Bruce to be the Protector of Gotham, a symbol of hope.

What a shame for them.

When he became yours — still stumbling on love and trust issues, yet chose to marry you — it took long enough to heal from the trauma. Don’t be thinking otherwise, he was still sweet and gentle with you, but it was verily different from the first timeline Bruce. This Bruce of yours wasn’t speaking his mind out during sex, pillow talks, or when you two were merely tangled with each other for sleep in the warmth of your bed, denying himself until you asked him about his notions. He’d still be afraid of being used, to be left in that loneliness once again — even though you were his partner, you were carrying his last name happily. It was a basic trauma response, just as he was being his alter ego every night.

He loved you truthfully, more than he did for the others but he wasn't speaking or letting real set of emotions to you unless you ushered him. It’d tire you both for a good extended period, both hurting him and you heavily. You would be burdened by proving to him that he had nothing to be scared of anymore, but it’d leave you insecure in your own thoughts that maybe he didn’t want you and that was the last thing for Bruce to make you feel unworthy of his messy love.

He loved you so dearly, became overly protective of you and clingy, but still denied his emotions to you. He could never want to hurt you in any sense and when he struggled with words, he just shut himself out but saw it in your eyes how it was tolling on you. Your first years of marriage consisted of this issue. Even when Dick came into your lives— you two were stumbling but at least it was not severe like the previous years. Bruce knew you loved him, but the years of not getting any response from the few people he cared for and wanted romantically left him disheartened and demoralized, even though you were whispering to his lips that you were his until the end.

Bruce started to fix himself when he saw how it was draining you. You were so precious to him, his Sun and heart, the one who he did comprehend the meaning of true love because of. He’d be trying to be a better husband for you, not in a materialistic way but emotionally, too. He’d let his guard down ultimately — finally pushing the nightmarish thoughts of you leaving him or using him like the others.

Bruce could never think of terribly of you, never let any single suspicion creep over him but it was too hard to flee from the thoughts of making a single mistake and watching you leave him. Speaking of self-blaming about ‘making a mistake’, I think Bruce some days would think and accuse himself for the position he was in before you, because maybe he had made a mistake and he deserved to be left alone (his ethical traits already accepting the blame as an clean game), but it was never correct — he was just an unreliable narrator in his mind, constantly doubting his capability of romantic love. It was one of the justifications why he was still struggling with vulnerability.

When he started to push his dreadful visions, he started to heal. Your love was already a cure for him and when he stopped resisting himself? That was the reward for his efforts for Gotham. He’d be at peace to evolve into the man who wasn't broken anymore but daily loved and cherished by the love of his life. He’d then become vulnerable with you, yet still with hesitation until he’d learn to push it aside and speak to you.

I am thinking that the physical affection of yours was one of the main motives he’d be distracted him from his uncertainty and let you pull and love him how you wanted as he was nestling into you. It’d force him to see that it is you and only you, his partner, as your lips would be kissing his temple, whispering how much you loved him to his skin as he was breathing steadily in the darkness of your room. No lie, it would take him a sufficient amount of years to be fully vulnerable with you, but it was worth it. He’d be at ease and speak to you about what was bothering him, what was itching his brain when you’d hum ‘Mhm.’ to his exhausted tone of voice.

What would it take him to show a heavy emotion? You.

Just you.

It is the main characteristic of every timeline. You were the reason why Bruce was letting his yearnings blossom. You were the one who took him to the end line where he wasn’t doubtful anymore. He’d be stressing his head out over the atrocities of Joker or gritting his teeth when Alfred was stitching his wounds, yet he was alright. Alright to show you how much pain he was in, for the actions to protect Gotham. He knew you so well, so well than you knew yourself and he knew how you were just there to support him, his alter ego, and his tragedy until the end.

His theme was too sophisticated to be uttered by a single sentence, but you listened to him dearly. He became the one thing you ever loved to listen, never getting enough of his catastrophes and his visions. He was sometimes afraid of how much you wanted him, loved him but it was enough. Your Bruce in every timeline was obsessively spiraling in your love and relishing every second of it.

You were the one who eased him into the edges, let him be who he was inside. Bruce, your Bruce.

He learned to permit himself and enjoy you as much as he could, as he did enhance it until you two were gone. Any crashing out or any elation was uttered to you eventually, it doesn't matter which timeline you two were in. You taught him to exist in peace in your arms and he caught it in the air effortlessly, like how he learned every inch of knowledge from his mentors during his youth.

It got him in a situation where he needed to come into your arms to talk to you, because you were the one who knew what to say to him.

There was a difference between you and his other trustee, Alfred.

Alfred was his father and he knew his son’s struggles. He fought the way you fought for Bruce’s inner demons to unleash him but Alfred knew you were utterly different from what he was to Bruce.

You were his son’s lover. You were someone who could only be the one for Bruce. Alfred saw how you altered him without any ill intention for the better. Once the Bruce who never cared about how he looked like a dead and raged man after his patrols, was now shaving his face as soon as his stubble dared to grow by an inch because you once told him how his stubble was tickling you (or otherwise as you preferred).

You were too kind and sweet for his son, truthfully loving him as your soulmate, in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty, until death tore you apart. How can Bruce defy you, deny your motives to make him a better man, in vulnerability, too?

my dearest stranger, it is up to you to decide, but one thing that was real it was your Bruce’s endless love for you that took him to the places he never imagined or dreamed of having in his life.

I hope I answered your request ♡ and if you do have any word, don't be shy and talk to me. I hope you’re having an amazing week, kiss kiss!!! ♡ ♡ ♡

[softh0neycomb]

Ring around the rosies

WC: 1k

TW: allusions to child abuse (brief, none descript.) Explict content.

His thoughts stray back to you on the other side of the wall, wondering what kind of pet you’ll turn out to be.

It starts, as most things often do, with someone overhearing something they shouldn’t. 

It’s not like Simon and Johnny aren’t at least aware of their neighbour, it’s difficult not to be, pretty bird living on her own…no gentlemen callers, hardly ever any friends over, always tired with hands wrapped around a reusable coffee mug like a lifeline. 

On this specific day though, Simon’s picking up mail in the main lobby, unlocking their designated box and sifting through letters and flyers when you appear, phone crunched between shoulder and ear as you start to do the same thing. 

“I dunno mum,” you sigh and he hears the bone deep exhaustion that colours your tone, “I’ve done everything I can officially.” 

He hears that too, the disdain seeping through, he knows without knowing exactly what you think of these “official” channels. 

“No, mum, I can’t just ask them straight out.” You sigh again “because I can’t.” 

He watches as you step away, towards the stairs with a pile of mail in hand. 

“How do you think that conversation would go, mum?” 

He shrugs, following, he needs to go back upstairs too. 

“Mum, he’s six. I can’t ask a six year old,” your voice drops to a hiss as you reach your front door, “if his foster parents are…not being nice to him.” 

Your door slams behind you and he’s left in the hall, more intrigued than he should be. 

He opens his own front door, bypasses Johnny, raises a single finger to his lips as he tracks where you are on the opposite side of the wall. Wondering if you’ll be more candid within the supposed privacy of your own home. 

“Because mum!” Your voice filters through “I’m not allowed, I can’t start that conversation, I can’t even ask how he got bruises, it has to be a voluntary disclosure, I can’t prompt…or lead in any way.” 

A pause whilst there’s the dull sound of something being poured. 

“I don’t know.” A sigh, audible. “No, mama I can’t take matters into my own hands.”

Another pause, he and Johnny exchange glances, there’s a hollow laugh. 

“No mama, if I find that out I’d kill them myself.” 

There’s a bone deep conviction to your words, a spark flits between the two men, it only grows when you add on darkly.  

“Slowly.” 

He grins wolfishly. 

Shoulda just stayed our pretty neighbour birdie, he thinks as he runs a hand over Jonny’s mohawk possessively, had to go and make yourself interesting. 

“Alright mama” you sigh again, unaware of both men rapt with attention on the other side of the wall. “I’ll call you on Monday.” There's another pause, the sound of something being thrown in frustration and a muffled scream of irritation before a TV is switched on. 

Johnny looks up at him, “not just a bonnie wee thing then?” 

“No,” a smirk, a hand fisted in Johnny' s shirt, pulling him up for a rough kiss, dominating, rough in a way he wouldn’t be with you. 

He stares at the wall, almost willing himself to see through it.

 He’d never given you much thought before, sure you were pretty and whilst he did like pretty…liked to watch Johnny break them with his mouth, so they’d beg him to rein his boy back, sobbing ‘thank you’s’ as he sunk himself inside them.

 None of them had stuck though, all of them had seen the darkness staring back at them through brown and blue eyes and fled. 

He had made the executive decision that the next pretty bird they found would be the one to keep. Still soft, still something that he and Johnny could sink their teeth into but they needed someone who’d relish the sting of pain. 

They hadn’t even entertained the thought of you. 

He’d seen your work clothes and dismissed you as fluff, lacking the bite they looked for in a third. Unassuming… but now, now he realised that you taught small children…all that colour, dungarees with whimsical patterns, hair always out of your face. 

Everything about you screamed trustworthy, gentle, designed to make parents feel in control and children feel safe. 

He’s almost ashamed to say he fell for it too…the costuming, little unassuming birdie concealing all her sharp edges in soft cardigans and respectable skirts. 

Naughty little thing. Hiding in plain sight. 

He grunts under his breath, hand tightening around Johnny’s hip.

“Tricky little bird.” Johnny looks up at him, a slow grin sliding over his features, too sharp to be a true smile. 

“Yeah?” Johnny asks roughly, pressed up against him “tried to hide from us.” 

He squeezes Johnny' s hip again, “should be ashamed pup” he growls, accent thickening “meant to be sharper than that.” 

Johnny pants, blue eyes dilated with lust, the thrill of the hunt. “Won’t happen again LT.” the words spill from his mouth like a promise. 

“Good boy Johnny.” Another filthy kiss, harder, with Johnny nipping at his lips. He sucks a dark love bite into his neck in retaliation. 

“Si” comes tumbling out of Johnny’s mouth as a whine, hands pulling at his belt with a practised ease, “need you.” 

He laughs roughly, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s neck “yeah pup?” He growls out, applying the barest hint of pressure. 

“Beg.” 

Johnny drops to his knees, nuzzling at his crotch feverishly “please, please Sir.” he mouths at the bulge through Simons’ jeans “I’ve been good, I’ve been so good.” 

“Have you?” Simon sighs, making his way to the sofa “suppose you ‘ave.” He flops down and unzips his jeans, spreading his legs and Johnny crawls between them. 

“Just your mouth pup,” Johnny yips in agreement, mouthing at the pre-cum appearing on Simon’s boxers. 

“Thas it” it comes out as a hiss as Johnny gets his mouth around his cock, “like that.” 

His thoughts stray back to you on the other side of the wall, wondering what kind of pet you’ll turn out to be. He runs a hand over Johnny’s head, groaning as his tongue does something clever at the base of his cock. 

Doesn’t think you’ll be another pup, not rambunctious enough, a kitten has potential, bunny maybe. 

Another hum, he thinks about how you slipped past their notice, sneaky, cunning. A fox. 

[novamariestark]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 - Bᴜᴄᴋʏ Bᴀʀɴᴇs [𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝟣]

pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Reader

synopsis: you are Pepper's younger sister, not by blood but that never bothered either of you. Without realizing it, you become the caretaker for the Avengers, so when a new member joined, it was only natural you'd do the same for him... Bucky Barnes

song inspiration: Lover ~ "Can I Go Where You Go?"

fandom: Marvel

warnings: none that I know off. Just my bad version of fluff i suppose lol

[A/N] this ended up far from what I originally imagined last night and probably would have been different had I not had such a busy day today. Bloody outside world 🙄sorry it sucks

Peace.

Love.

Hope.

Belonging.

All things that Bucky has not felt since the '40s. Things he didn't think he'd ever feel again. Things he believed he didn't deserve to feel. That was until he met you.

For reasons he still can't explain, you didn't immediately cower away from him. Him who had been responsible for countless deaths. Him who was a killing machine. Him a monster.

Instead you did the complete opposite. You were polite, kind and understanding. More things he didn't think he deserved and you picked up on that really quickly.

You knew that Bucky was still a tumbleweed of nerves, so you tried to do as much as you could to make him comfortable and make the tower feel like home to him without freaking the absolute shit out of him accidentally.

You never pushed him. You never tried to pry into every last thought that was swimming around in his head.

You were just... there. A gentle presence that existed beside him. That calmed him more than he realised.

More often than not, he found himself near you, whether you were sitting at the dinner table, or if you were sitting at the kitchen counter, he would too.

If he has a nightmare and starts roaming the tower, pacing away because he can't sit still, you would be sitting in the kitchen waiting for him with a mug of warm milk with honey and cinnamon, something your parents gave you when you had nightmares as a child.

It became routine, unfortunately, not because you didn't want to be there, but because you'd prefer that he didn't have the nightmares in the first place. He's already suffered enough and yet, some nights, Hydra still has him in a chokehold.

Months go by and the routine is still in place, but Bucky finds himself having fewer nightmares. They still occur, just not as often. Lately, he's been dreaming a lot about you. About your smile, your laugh, your eyes, all things that made him smile. Not just that small, barely existent one he usually does. An actual, genuine smile.

He didn't deserve you, he didn't deserve your friendship, he didn't deserve the peace that your presence gives him. At least that's what he keeps telling himself over and over.

It wasn't true. Sometimes you think he still sees The Winter Soldier and himself as the same thing. But they're not. They never have been. One was a weapon that Hydra wielded, the other, an innocent man who just wanted to serve his country, forced to live with the grief, the guilt and the trauma that was forced upon him.

The more Bucky's feelings for you grew, the more he buried them. Not because he wanted to. He buried them because he thought he would hurt you. And that scared him more than anything.

He was doing a good job at ignoring those feelings, for the most part, until you bought him a present.

"It's not my birthday," he had said, confusion painting over his features as he looks at the date on his phone, that you had taught him how to use, "Is it?"

You laughed, moving to come and stand next to him, "It's gotta be your birthday for someone to buy you a gift?"

Bucky shrugged, "I guess not but, I don't think I deserve this, doll,"

God that nickname always made your stomach do 100 cartwheels. You bit your lip, turning your head slightly so he didn't notice the giddy smile on your face.

You compose yourself and turn back to him, "Well you do," you told him, you voice firm and leaving no room for arguments as you picked his right hand up by his wrist and bringing it upwards, flipping it over in the process. His fingers subconsciously opened up and you place the keys on his palm.

"It's all yours,"

"I can't believe it," he said as he stepped towards it, admiring every inch, every detail, "How did you know to get this bike?"

"I have my sources,"

"Steve?"

"Yeah,"

He smiled turning back to the bike and just thought to himself for a moment before turning back to you.

"Thank you,"

It's literally the biggest smile you'd ever seen on Bucky's face, which was a shame because he had the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen and you wanted to see it more often.

And so you did see it more often. But you didn't know that that smile was only ever on his face when you were nearby and everyone started noticing this. Except you.

Everyone kept dropping hints here and there and yet you still remained oblivious. Bucky was thankful for that. The last thing he wanted was something like rejection to take away what you guys had.

--

The cold sweat clung to his skin as he jolted awake, breath ragged and heart pounding like a drum. The room was dark, silent—filled with only the sound of his heavy breathing. Your face, covered in blood, pale, lifeless faded away from him like sand slipping through his fingers.

Quietly, he rose and made his way down the hall to start his ritual, his light footsteps adding to his uneven breathing.

When he calmed down he made his way down to the kitchen to find you were waiting in the kitchen, just as always—warm mug sitting on the counter, waiting for him. The faint scent of honey hit him on his way to his usual seat.

You smiled at him, expecting him to sit down next to you as he always does but he doesn't. Instead he pulls you into a hug.

"Please don't go," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly, as though he was on the verge of breaking into tears.

"What?" you asked as your arms automatically wrapped around him. "I'm not going anywhere Bucky. What would make you think that?"

"My nightmare... you died,"

Your fingers thread through his hair, gently, soothingly stroking as you speak just as gently to him, "It will never happen, Bucky. I'm surrounded by avengers,"

He apologizes as he pulls away, you just smile and say that it's okay. The rest of the night, you sat in silence.

--

Parties definitely weren't his thing. Yours either but Tony being your "brother-in-law" somehow meant that your attendance was mandatory. Every party Tony has ever thrown, you had bailed 10 minutes in when no one was looking, but this time you had company.

You had slipped into the seat next to him, on the table hiding in the corner. He watched everyone as though they were someone coming for him. You knew he was uncomfortable just by the look on his face.

"You wanna leave?" you asked him, pointing to the door. Bucky looked over at where Tony and the others were, "Don't worry about them, they'll understand,"

And that led you to sitting on your bed, watching Finding Nemo of all things. It was a film that you knew and loved. It was also innocent and lighthearted.

By the end you were a sobbing mess as you always were after this movie. You looked over and Bucky's eyes were glossy and one stray tear that escaped was rolling down his cheek.

Your hand instinctively moved to wipe the tear, Bucky looked at you and your hand out the corner of his eye. Your actions paused and you mumble sorry before pulling your hand away.

Your hand doesn't make it very far though when it's captured by Bucky's. Your gaze flicks between your joined hands and Bucky's beautiful blue eyes.

His metal hand moves to move a stray hair from your face, the cool metal shocking you slightly.

He smiles and asks "If you get lost, can I go too?"

You smile softly, squeezing his hand. “Always.”

[whispersbetweenchapters]

Never in my life did I think I would be defending the Prim Reaper. But here we are. I cannot believe all the mischaracterisation of his I'm seeing, and some of the hate. Yes, he can be disliked, I don't really like this mf, but people calling him as bad as snow is WRONG. Ahem. Right. ONE. Let's take a moment to remember that Gale was also a child, who was also learning it live. I'm not disputing that some of his actions were wrong, but you gotta be realistic, he was a dumb teenage boy. Yes, he needed lessons on empathy and compassion, but he was learning, in possibly the worst environment (which, wow, surprised that it didn't do too well).

TWO. Um, why the hell are we calling him a toxic trad husband? He is not. Trad husbands want their partner to be inferior while they shine and boast. Gale was never insecure that Katniss was a better hunter than him or a better shot, her fell in love with her for it, for how capable she was.

THREE. The statement that 'Gale would kill Katniss in the Games', uh personally, no. I do not think that Gale would kill Katniss in the games, because just like Peeta, he was also in love with her. I think that they would team up together, until the 'endish' before splitting up, hoping they wouldn't have to kill one another. I don't think Katniss would want to kill him either. AND if it came down to the two of them, I think Gale would sacrifice himself. He would make Katniss promise to look after his family before killing himself, so Katniss wouldn't have to do it. And if it were the other way around, he would make sure Katniss's family was well looked after. I'm just so over people making him out to be such a 'bad guy' when he is just a traumatised child.

FOUR. Everyone respects Beetee for blowing up people, but Gale is the worst person alive for it? Yeah, sure, Beetee went through hell, yes, it was probably more than Gale. But that cannot be the REASONING ON WHY GALE WAS BAD FOR IT. Just because his trauma was 'less' does not mean Beetee is any better. It's double standards. If we're being real here, Beetee is a mature adult, and Gale is a deranged, not fully formed teenager boy who has just been through the most traumatic events in his life. Beetee has already been living with his for years. Gale just watched his home, friends, and life be destroyed. Why would he care about anyone on the 'enemy' side at this point? His rage was not just from that, by from losing his father, from being oppressed, from watching so many children die in those games (hmm sounds familiar? Just like Beetee). Realistically, MANY people would do the same thing, make the other side suffer just as they have made you suffer. Not everyone is compassionate and sweet like Peeta, and that isn't 'wrong' or 'bad but you can't hold expectations to a child like that. Gale had every right to react the way he did. AND BEETEE IS NO BETTER. He knew what he was doing, don't cover his ass for it but hate Gale at the same time. Gale provided the idea, and Beetee made it. At ANY moment, he could have gone, hmm, nah, this is too much. But he did not, because he was just like Gale and wanted that revenge.

FIVE. Gale was also groomed by Coin, just as Snow was by Dr Gaul. Coin used his anger, his pain, for her benefit. Because, as we tend to forget, Gale was still just. A. Child. He was never told the bombs would be used against his own people; he was told they would be used against the Capitol, the people whom he was targeting. He was literally on the front lines. Did he want to blow himself up? No. Now, let me propose a question. Did Beetee know? Because someone had to operate that bombs, someone who knew how they worked, someone who wasn't on the front lines. It's an interesting thought, and maybe that's why Beetee says no to the Capitol children's hunger games because he already killed half of them with the bombs.

Now, just to clarify to am not on 'team gale',  I hate Gale for the way he lacked an understanding for Katniss when she returned from the games. For how he saw everyone as a competition and in love with Katniss, but as I said before, not everyone is great and compassionate, and that's okay because everyone is DIFFERENT. I just believe it's become a 'fad' to hate on him now for stupid things. You don’t have to like Gale. I don’t, he's annoying and a teenage boy brat. But hating HARD on him without context is lazy — and y’all are smarter than that.

[soulicious]

🧁🎀🩰.

🧁 describe your dream birthday party (down to the outfit, cake, and decorations).

hmm my dream birthday party would definitely be a private one. But, I think I'd throw a costume party or maybe a ball. I think I'd choose a satin dress because I love satin but I might also get a black velvet dress cause I love black velvet. I love chocolate cake, and I think i wouldn't use many decorations, I don't like them. I'd Probably just get a happy birthday banner at the most. (I don't like birthdays I'm sorry)

🎀 build your ideal lover from the soul outward (personality, looks, style, love language...) then tell us your dream date.

Ahhh this is a hard one. The list is gonna be long so buckle up, guys. My ideal lover is someone who's intelligent, confident, devoted and kind. He should be able to match my wit, i don't mind if he's smarter than me but I don't think I can be with someone who's not as intelligent as I am. He should be confident in himself, I don't mind if it's too much, as long as he's not insecure. He should be kind, not just to people he finds attractive but to everyone who deserves his kindness. He shouldn't be vulgar, although i don't mind if he uses filthy language (with me and only me) in certain situations. He should be completely devoted to me, (and I mean, Aaron warner level kind of devotion) because I'm someone who's too loyal for my own good. I'd commit arson for the ones I love so I expect the same from him. I don't mind if he's too clingy but he shouldn't be nonchalant, not with me. He shouldn't hold me back from doing my own thing. I have hyper independent tendencies. I can't be with someone who don't let me have my alone time and do my own stuff. He should be good with people, must be very charming and good with his words. He shouldn't let anyone talk crap about me, not even myself. He should be my biggest supporter. He should be protective of me and i wouldn't mind if he were a bit possessive. Not in a "don't wear that dress, I don't wanna share you, you belong to me" way. But in a "wear whatever you want, I can fight. I'm yours, anyway" way. (Ugh I'm blushing like a middle schooler writing this. God!!!). He should be nice to waiters and must be generous. Hmm as for his looks, I don't have any preference. I'm more of a sapiosexual, so intelligence attracts me more than appearance does. But I'd like it if he had like.. intense and passionate eyes that doesn't wander away from me. Oh- he should be taller than me. That's a very important detail. I'm 5'6 which is above average height where I'm from and when wearing my heels I'm like 5'8-ish. So he should be taller than average too. Hmm as for his style, he shouldn't wear neons, too much patterns or crocs. I hate them. And love language.. hmm I think the major one should be feeling known and the minor ones should be physical touch or words of affirmation. But yeah,that's my dream lover.

[I know a lot of people will think that I'm "asking for too much" or that my "standards are too high" but this is all of the stuff that I'd do for someone I love, even people i platonically love. I think it's only fair that I ask for what I'd offer in a relationship.]

🩰 if you could have any career (money and method are hypothetically not an issue), what would it be and why?

Oooh- that's a very interesting question! Hypothetically, it'd be either a archaeologist/ an egyptologist or do spy work/assassin. I've always been interested in egyptology archaeology as a child, so much so that I tried to learn ancient Egyptian. Also- archaeologists and egyptologist have access to restricted places that general public cannot visit. I've always thought that was cool. And i don't think working as an assassin or a spy needs to be elaborated?? Like- what could be cooler than that??