#but after a year of applying for jobs and getting literally not a SINGLE call back

[yourheartinyourmouth]

guys tell me i’m being silly for being disappointed that i didn’t get a call back today for a job i applied to friday

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 8564 tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: longer chapter woohoo, was gonna write after break but had so much inspo. wrote on my phone, so if there’s any typos, please ignore 🥹 series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

The nights haven’t been easy in the past couple of days. Mingled with a growing sense of anxiety added on top of your already heightened stress, your brain just can’t seem to shut off. You’ve tried melatonin and no more caffeine, but caffeine is ultimately getting you through the day and keeping you up when needed. In all honesty, you’ve already been struggling with sleep, but with the surprise meet with Suguru, dread’s been pooling in your stomach.

You have no doubt he spilled the beans. Hell, you would too if that was your best friend. You can only hope he somehow didn’t, though. A small part of you would be a little annoyed if he did, because again, he has no role in this. At least not a big one.

A sudden banging on your door jolts you upright, checking the clock and it’s not even 7:30 yet. Only one person could be demanding your presence so early. A heavy sigh leaves you, forcing your stiff muscles out of bed, wrapping yourself in a robe before trudging to the front door. When you peek through the peephole, your landlord stands there with an annoyed expression on his old face, foot tapping the ground in impatience.

“Bastard,” you mumble to yourself before opening the door. “Good morning, Mr. Sato.”

Seems he doesn’t have time for fake pleasantries, “Y/N, I’m assuming you saw the eviction note I left on your door yesterday morning.”

Unfortunately. “Yes, sir. I did.”

His arms cross, scratching at his greying mustache, “So, is it also safe to to assume you’ll have the money by next Friday?”

You sigh heavily, hand running through your hair. This is not how you wanted to start your morning. He was already making your life hell by suddenly raising your rent out of nowhere three months ago for so-called “renovations”. But you’ve yet to see any actual renovations being done. Not to mention, you’ve been bugging about your heater no longer working, and during this time of year, you and Koji are practically freezing to death. You had to buy a portable heater, small, but it gets the job done. Although it’s mainly in Koji’s room because you’d rather freeze than let him. “Look, Mr. Sato, I’m really trying here. I’m working hard to get the money, but please understand that—”

“Understand? I’ve been understanding, Y/N. I even applied last month’s rent to this month, just ‘cause of you.”

Of course, he’s gonna throw that in your face. Landlords seem to take their title so literally that if he didn’t have this much control over your space of safety, you would’ve ripped him a new one. Also, how could you forget that to even get him to agree to that plea deal, you were forced through an hour and a half of an uncomfortable, infuriating dinner with the man. Really, he’s not giving you much to work with here, but then again, you shouldn’t have had such high hopes. “I know, I know,” you reply, scratching at your roots. “I’ll have the money, okay?”

“You better,” he says gruffly. “Or I’m renting this unit to someone who can actually afford it. I’m hurting here too, you know?”

You huff. “Yeah, thanks.”

Without another word, you close the door in the man’s face, locking it. Leaning your back up against the hard surface, you close your eyes and will yourself to stay calm and positive. Counting back from ten and then back, a small tip your therapist showed you before your insurance no longer covered it. It’s okay. It’s only the start of the day, you have 20 something hours left. Now’s not the time to throw yourself a pity party and play woe is me. Now’s the time to just pick yourself up and move on. You’ll find a solution for the money, you always do.

Though this time, you can’t help but feel you’re really fucked.

I mean, you honestly have no idea how you’re going to come up with almost four thousand dollars in just a week. That sounds quite literally impossible in every single way. You get paid next week, but with taxes, you’re going home with maybe three thousand, so how will you get that extra thousand?

Unless some miracle decides to hit you, which almost never seems to happen. You used to think someone hoaxed you, or you were just born with the most unluckiest luck ever. Or, the more cynical thought you tend to have, you were fated to live a life in strict financial management, and hardships are constantly thrown at you left and right.

But hey, you’ve made it this far, right?

“No, I haven’t.”

“You what?!”

“I haven’t told him.”

“Y/N, what the fu–”

“Jesus Christ, I know, Hana. You don’t have to make me feel even more like shit.”

Your friend stops mid-way, eyeing your very displeased expression. She sighs and relents, slumping back in the small chair in the backroom of the cafe. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, letting your confession simmer and process. When she does, it’s an honest question. “But…why?”

Why. You feel like you’re staring to hate that damn word. “A lot of reasons, I know it’s not really justified, but I just…need someone to understand me for once. Not come at me for my dumb decisions.”

Your words feel bare and raw, not completely exposing the extent of the emotions you’ve been harboring, but enough to make her stop. Hana regards you with pursed lips, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Finally, she nods. “Okay, I won’t question you anymore. You have your reasons, and your reasons are always valid. So, I’m behind you on this. We stick together, remember?”

A hint of a smile forms on your lips, quietly thanking her. She comes forward to give you a hug, one you immediately reciprocate. Her auburn hair tickling your nostrils, arms seemingly tightening. “Don’t go holding things in anymore, I told you that. I’m here, to talk, listen, whatever.”

You and Hana met three years ago. She was just your co-worker at the time, now promoted to your manager. Although she’s two years younger than you, you two relate to a lot of things. Whether that be movies, food, what guys are hot, or alcohol. If anything, Hana might be your only friend in general. It’s a little sad, maybe, but at least you have someone to come to when you need to talk about adult issues your five-year-old wouldn’t be able to comprehend.

“I love you.” You find yourself muttering.

“I love you too, girl. Now, get out there, your break’s up.”

Jokingly scoffing and nudging her, you stand from the seat and do a quick stretch. Preparing yourself for yet another few hours of dreaded customer service and fake smiles, you walk out of the backroom, pushing the small curtains aside that separate the back from the counter, and clock back in.

“Cash or card?”

“Hello, how can I help you today?”

“Would that be all?”

“Have a nice day.”

Are all phrases any retail or customer service worker finds a little annoying, if not a lot. It’s so draining. And when the customers don’t greet you back, your pettiness shines through and you won’t even say have a good day to them when they’re leaving. Although, the job does have some upsides to it. For example, you get to make free coffees, take whatever pastries are left at the end of the day home, and the customers are never really bad. Of course, you have had a couple experiences, but nothing compared to a chain store. You’re even starting to use your customer service voice throughout the day, even when you’re not at work. Honestly, that’s not very good.

As you’re wiping up the counter, you feel a buzzing in your pocket. Taking your phone out, you see a set of numbers, an unsaved contact. You give Hana a quick glance, muttering a “just a sec”, before going back to the back to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

God, it’s gonna take some time getting used to his voice on the regular now. “Oh, Suguru. hey…uh–what’s up?”

There’s some shuffle on the other side like he’s adjusting the phone. “Are you busy right now?”

“Well, yes. I’m on the clock.”

He sighs, phone switching to his car output. “Where do you work? I’ll come now.”

“What?” you splutter out, head shaking. “No, Suguru, you can’t just pop out at my job. I’m busy, just tell me what you need right now.”

“I’m not sure I should.”

That statement alone scares you a bit. His cynicism always got on your nerves, but it also worried you from time to time. Most of the time, he didn’t mean any harm because that’s just how Suguru was, but it still did its job. Contemplation strikes through you. “Is it bad?”

He hesitates, which only further skyrockets your anticipation. “Honestly, it’s not too bad. But still, I need to talk to you.”

A breath emits from your lips, one you didn’t know you were holding. Eyes meeting the ceiling, you ponder over your decisions. Eventually, you come to a conclusion. “Fine, but it can’t be too long. I’m at Deja Brew, the cafe on–”

“On Express, got it. Be there in a bit.”

He’s hanging up before you even get a chance to question that he knew the cafe you worked at. If he did, surely he would have visited at least once, but you’ve never seen him come in. And you’re every day. Unless he usually comes when you’re not clocked in anymore. Anywho, you steel yourself for the inevitable conversation. Anticipating whatever bad or not-so-good news he'll give you.

“So.”

“Mm, this is good.” Suguru nods appreciatively, sipping from his coffee. You made it for him before he arrived, as a weird sort of gift to him. You two have situated yourself in a booth in the corner. Hana was a little confused as to why you were taking a break while you were on the clock, even regarding you with an almost scolding look. But the second she saw Suguru follow, her expression changed.

You practically saw the heart eyes form, smiling in a bashful way. That’s one thing you forgot about. The way girls would magnetize themselves towards the man, his best friend too. The two together were an almost deadly duo.

“Suguru,” you say, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “Please just…don’t stall anymore. Why did you want to see me?”

“Right,” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter. Once more, his steely gaze meets yours, you have to hold back the sudden urge to look away. “Like I said, it’s not terrible news, but not very good either.”

You nod, wanting him to just stop with the extraness and get to the point. “Okay, say it.”

“Satoru.” is the first thing he says, gauging your automatic grimace to his name. “He knows.”

Figures. “And you told him?”

He nods in response. You exhale, rubbing your face. “Suguru, why? I didn’t say you could.”

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed permission to tell my best friend he has a secret love child he hasn’t known about for five years, Y/N.” You hate when his voice gets like that, like you’re a school child who’s just been caught by her teacher for doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “Anywho, he knows. He wasn’t…very happy.”

You slowly ask, unsure if you’re ready to hear the answer. “What did he say?”

“More so what he did than said,” he pushes a stray strand of black hair out his eye and behind his ear, arms crossing. “He’s been quite easy to anger. I mean, I haven’t really talked to him because he’s not answering my calls, but I’ve been hearing from people at the office. He also kicked my ass out right after I told him. But that’s all I know at least, Nanami says he’s like a ticking time bomb.”

Jesus Christ. You don’t know what else you were expecting, you’re surprised he hasn’t done worse, but like Suguru said, that’s all he knows. His state is most likely a hundred times worse than what’s being thrown at you right now. You feel an intense guilt pool, mixing with a slight fear. “Did he…do anything else? Say anything?”

“I don’t know, he’s not talking to me right now.” Suguru concedes, leaning closer to you, brows furrowing in a seriousness. “Look, I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel worse, but I should let you know. He’s going to try and seek you out now that he knows about his son. You know that, right?”

Of course, you fucking know that. That’s what makes you scared, the possibility of somehow running across him in the most unsuspecting of places makes you want to stay holed up in your shitty apartment. “Yeah,” you gulp. “I figured.”

“I don’t know how he’ll react if–when–he does see you.” he honestly admits. “I just think you should reach out to him first, before he does it. I have his number, you should ca—”

“Stop.” you hold a hand up, eyes closing. “No more, I don’t want to be told what to do. I just…need some time processing everything right now.”

“Y/N–”

“Suguru,” your eyes open, staring at him dead on. “You seriously can’t expect me to jump from one thing to the next. I need fucking time to figure out what I’m gonna do. I’m already stressed as it is, now I have to worry about my son’s father possibly trying to reach out and that just sets me more on fucking edge. You come to my work, spring this on me, and I–” you’re rambling. Cutting yourself off in the middle of a sentence, choosing not to finish it. The last thing you need to do is rant to him. Besides, you’re just starting to see him again after five years, that would absolutely put him in a weird place between comforting someone who was once his friend, and backing up his life-long best friend.

You jolt a bit when you feel a warm palm envelope your hand, his thumb gently rubbing across your knuckles. Looking back at him, he gives you an all too familiar look. One that can make you just pour out everything you’re feeling right at that second. It’s a horrifying technique he has. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you feel like shit. I should’ve been more considerate. I’m sorry.” He apologizes with a soothing intonation. Again, it’s making you feel warm. “It’s a hard situation, I could never know exactly what you’re going through. but…I care about you, Y/N. I always have, even without Satoru’s involvement. So, I’ll do better and not overwhelm you.”

Damn it, Suguru. Now you’re making me feel bad! Not trusting yourself with words, you meekly nod, slowly pulling your hand out his grasp. You miss the way his eyes dart down to his now empty grip, a small downward twitch to his lip that he expertly hides. “I should go back to work, I’m assuming you do too.” You stand on wobbly feet, giving him one last lingering gaze. “On the house, by the way….yeah, bye.”

Suguru watches you disappear behind the curtains, a small pit expanding in his gut. He pushes it away without thought, sighing to himself as he stands and exits the cafe. He walks down the sidewalk to his blacked out 2025 Mustang GT parked on the street. Getting in with a heavy head that’s full of all kinds of emotions. Some he doesn’t try to acknowledge, but the ones he does, it’s all worry and concern. He really doesn’t see how this situation can somehow turn around. Maybe you two will have a very mature and calm conversation when you cross paths.

He almost laughs to himself when he begins driving. Calm? Mature? Yeah, right. How do you have a calm conversation about hiding a kid for five years? Not to mention, you and Satoru are equally stubborn; it used to be so infuriating for him.

Suguru had patience, a lot of it actually. But you two tended to test that. Although, he would always forgive one of you the quickest. Cough, cough. You. It was like you had this weird thing about you that made the people around you just…like you.

His grip tightens on the wheel, biting his lip. He gets to a red light, thumb tapping on the material. Damn it all.

There’s a ringing that emits from the car’s speakers, looking at his touch screen to see the familiar name. Using this as a distraction, he answers. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice sounds out. “Where are you? Thought you were paying for my lunch.”

He huffs, eyes rolling, and moving the car forward once the light turns green. “I never agreed to that.”

“Sure you did,” Shoko replies, exhaling a breath. She must be smoking. “Anyway, hurry up. I’m already waiting outside. I thought Satoru was coming, is he gonna be late again?”

Yeah, no. “I don’t think he’s coming anymore.”

“Why not?” Shoko asks.

Suguru exhales heavily, turning the street towards the meet-up spot with his friend. “Some shit happened, I don’t think he’s doing good.”

Shoko pauses, adjusting her phone in hand. “What happened?”

Suguru too stops, completely forgetting how Shoko has no idea about what has transpired in the past couple of days. “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

Satoru has never been surprised before, not technically. He’s a smart man with quick instincts and a good foresight, it’s like he can always tell when something is going to happen, before it happens. Even for birthday parties, his perception and people reading skills are great, he knows when someone’s lying or not telling the full truth.

In short, he knows a lot of things.

But, what he didn’t expect was for 1) even hearing your name ever again after the breakup, and 2) you have a son, his son. A son he had not one goddamn clue about. The only person who’s ever been able to throw him off his game is you.

Even back when you two dated, there were moments where you’d either say or do things that would make him pause for a second and think how unlikely that was of you. He knew you’d lie sometimes, small white lies weren’t foreign to him because he did it too. But, he never thought you’d deliberately keep something like this from him.

And to top it off, if Suguru never saw you by chance that day, would you have ever even told him?

Now that really fucking pisses him off.

When Satoru is mad, everyone else’s day is ruined. When he’s mad, you can see it in his face, his body, how he’s just barely holding himself back. It’s even more scary when Satoru is known as the laid-back, playful and unserious type of man. So when he’s mad, almost no one in the office wants to make him even angrier, let alone be around him.

He’s barely slept a total of ten hours within the past two days, mind keeping him awake. He’s trying to not imagine the image of you holding a boy who looks like him because he’s already broken one too many pairs of glasses and the thought alone makes him infuriated. He sees a blinding white flash of betrayal, hurt, confusion, and anger.

He doesn’t mean to take it out on his employees, but their feelings are not on his list of priorities.

He has a son.

A son who’s five, apparently.

Five whole years of being kept in the dark, not even being blessed with a smidge of information about his offspring. While he was off fucking women, having fun, dreading about taking over his father’s business, you were god knows where, changing fucking diapers and losing sleep. And for what? Were you that fucking scared to tell him?

Oh, he’s so going to rip you a new one when he sees you.

But, he’s still not sure if he wants to do that. Afraid of what might happen, he’d rather not blow up on you, but can you blame him if he does?

He just found out he has a secret love child from a woman he knew years ago and know he’s expected to act like everything is normal in this boring fucking meeting?

Not to mention, if his father finds out, he’s not sure what will happen. If anyone else finds out, for that matter. If anything, he needs to get a reign over this messy situation before he’s allowing anyone to know.

“Mr. Gojo? What do you think?”

At the sudden mention of his name, he snaps back into focus. Eyes flickering over to the bald-headed man who currently stands in front of the table of other withering men, the screen projector displaying a multitude of different statistical data. The man falters slightly, his grip tightening on the laser pointer as Gojo’s eyes land on him

Shit. He has no idea what they were even talking about. “About?” He clears his throat, appearing nonchalant, though the tight hold on the ballpoint pen says otherwise, the faint click of it opening and closing the only indication of his simmering irritation

The room feels colder, quieter.

The man clears his throat nervously. “The expansion plan... into the Asia-Pacific region. Whether you think it’s viable in the current climate.”

Gojo leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed, though his pen continues its faint, rhythmic clicks. His expression is unreadable, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he lets the silence stretch a moment too long. “And you need my opinion on this?” he says finally, his tone polite but tinged with condescension.

The bald man shifts on his feet, adjusting his glasses. “W-We... wanted your insight, given your, uh, experience overseeing the European division.”

“Right,” Gojo says, dragging the word out just enough to make the man squirm. He tilts his head, his icy blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, if I’d been paying attention, I’d probably say something about how overly cautious you all seem to be. But that’s just a guess.”

The bald man blanches, stammering, “O-Overly cautious? We’ve taken every factor into account—”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Gojo cuts in smoothly, his voice softening just enough to disarm the growing panic in the man’s voice. “I’m just wondering if maybe all those ‘factors’ are holding you back. Are we leaders, or are we playing it safe like everyone else?” His eyes flicker briefly over the rest of the table, daring anyone to challenge him.

The bald man hesitates, then nods quickly, his nervous energy palpable. “Of course. You’re absolutely right, Mr. Gojo. I’ll revisit the projections to—”

“No need,” Gojo interrupts again, flashing a faint, humorless smile. “I trust you’ll figure it out. Unless you think I shouldn’t.”

The man practically trips over his words in an effort to assure him. “No, no, of course not. I’ll make the adjustments immediately.”

“Perfect,” Gojo says, the finality in his tone dismissing the topic entirely. He shifts his attention to the projector screen, the numbers and graphs blurring together as his thoughts drift.

The room eventually moves on, the hum of conversation resuming. But Gojo doesn’t miss the quick glances from across the table, the subtle unease lingering in the air.

He taps the pen against the table, his jaw tightening. It’s taking everything in him not to snap, not to let the weight of the fact that his ex-girlfriend is a filthy fucking person seep through the cracks.

Let them sweat. It’s the only thing keeping him entertained today.

The minute the awful meeting of ifs and hesitant decisions is over, he’s pushing out his chair, being the first one to leave the haunted room. It’s a bad mistake on his end, because his secretary, Aiko, is on his ass. “Mr. Gojo, your father is waiting for you in your office.”

Great, as if things couldn’t get any fucking better. He holds back a remark, gruffing out. “For?”

“He didn’t say, sir. He just wanted me to tell you to see him as soon as the meeting finished.”

He really, really doesn’t want to see his father right now. The two were too alike, constantly butting heads which only ended in a harsh set of insults being tossed around, mingled with occasional threats of “never passing the company down to someone as idiotic as you”. His father is bluffing, of course. He has no other person to pass it down to, with Satoru being the oldest and only son of his father’s. His long legs easily lead him to the doors of his office, to which he hesitates. Taking in a big breath, before opening the doors and closing them soon after. “What is it?” he asks, walking over to sit in his chair, leaning back comfortably.

His father, Yamato Gojo, the current CEO of the Gojo Group, who sits leisurely on the black leather coach stands up to position himself across from his son. Arms crossed and the permanently etched frown on his face. “Why didn’t you come to the dinner yesterday? There were very important people there you needed to meet. I texted and called you.”

Why didn’t he go? Can he really just say “sorry dad, I was stressing about this shithole I’ve found myself in”. No, he can’t. Instead, he shrugs and brushes his father off. “I was already busy.”

“Busy with what? What’s more important than networking?”

“A lot of things, actually.”

Yamato dislikes that answer quite a lot, frown seemingly deepening, regarding his son with another usual disapproving look. “Satoru, this is serious. They were expecting you and you embarrassed me. I won’t let this happen again, when I say you need to be somewhere, you be there. No if, ands, or buts. You’re pissing me off.”

How ironic of him to say that considering he’s having the exact same effect of Satoru. He isn’t scared of his father, hell no. But he does know to pick and choose his battles. And with the way his mind is completely scrambled right now, he forces himself to intake a huge breath of air. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I’ll be there next time. Happy?”

“Only after you prove it.” Like father, like son. Satoru hates how his father always seems to want to get the last word in. But his father hates how he does the exact same.

Throughout the entirety of his shift, up until he clocks out of work and walks to his designated parking spot which houses his white 2025 Mercedes-Benz SL-Class. Driving back to his high rise penthouse on autopilot, his thoughts zeroed in on one person only. Or well, two people.

Satoru wasn’t ever sure he wanted to be a father. He knew it was expected of him, but so many people had such high expectations of him, it became exhausting. Too exhausting. Does he even have a right to call himself a father to a child he never knew, a child who probably doesn’t even know him?

His right hand reaches for his phone, calling a number without taking his eyes off the road. It answers on the first ring, but Satoru doesn’t give him the chance to respond. “Do you know where she lives?”

There’s a falter, hearing Suguru’s deep breath come out on the other end. “No, I don’t. And nice to hear from you too.”

“I don’t have time for your sarcasm right now.” He stops at a red light, using his left hand to rub the crease between his furrowed brows. “Do you know anything? Her number? Where she works? Where did you see her so I can go over?”

“Satoru, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to go meet up with her again. You’re obviously not in the right mind space and I don’t want you two to—“

“I’ll argue with her all I want, I have that goddamn right to.” Satoru grits out, interrupting his friend before he has the chance to spew out more shit he’d rather not listen to right now. “Answer me.”

In Suguru’s mind, he knows if he gives Satoru even the tiniest bit of information regarding your whereabouts, he’ll storm over there and probably say things he doesn’t mean. Satoru tends to think emotionally in very dire situations, a bad habit of his. Still, although he knows his best friend should be angered by this situation, Suguru doesn’t want to involve himself. More than he has. After speaking with you, he’s come to the conclusion that you’ll reach out to Satoru soon. Considering the fact that he already knows. “I don’t know, I saw her at a grocery store, but she was just shopping.”

“Fuck,” Satoru groans, moving his car forward again. “Well how the hell do I—“

He’s cut off by a small vibrate to his phone, a message. When he looks down, the screen is overtaken by a new call coming in from Himari. Honestly, she’s the last person he wants to talk to right now.

“What’s wrong?” Suguru asks, after noticing the small beat of silence from the other end of the phone.

What isn’t wrong? “Gotta go, call you later.”

“Sat—“

Satoru ends the call, picking up the new one. “Hey.”

“Baby,” Himari’s light voice fills his ears, sighing in relief. “Can you come pick me up? I’m at the mall but the tires of my driver’s car popped.”

He’d rather not, but Satoru has found out that it’s been quite difficult to say no to his girlfriend. So, he puts his own internal and external battles to the side, making a right turn and exhaling. “The mall?”

“Yes, baby. Thank you so much.”

He hums back in response. “Be there in ten, wait outside.” Once again, he hangs up and a suffocating silence fills his car. Hands tightening around the wheel, he reels himself in with a big inhale, then exhales. He can’t show these sorts of emotions in front of the woman, for she’ll no doubt question and question about what’s wrong, which will then lead to an argument. He doesn’t need arguments.

As Satoru sees the mall in the distance, he’s overrun by the sudden determination. The determination to find you and meet his son.

“Just one more question, Koji. Then let’s eat dinner, how does that sound?”

The young boy groans in annoyance, the math work of simple addition problems laid out in front of him. He hates math, almost as much as you, excelling in other subjects like English and Art. “But Mama……” he drags the words out in a childish manner.

Plating two plates of tonkatsu chicken with curry, one plate smaller than the other, you turn to your son who now has a pout on his face. You resist the urge to pinch his cheeks. “You can do it, you did the other ones so well.”

Sitting next to him, you look over at his workbook. Just one more problem. It’s a problem consisting of three numbers, 5, 23, and 6. Simple in your eyes, but a disastrous monstrosity in the eyes of a five-year-old. “Mama will help you, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.” Koji grumbles, reluctantly grabbing his red pencil again.

Times like these you cherish. Sure, it’s mundane and not very exciting. But it’s the little things that matter most to you. Helping your kids with homework, helping them learn to ride a bike, tie their laces, it’s all wonderful experiences from your perspective. Proof of the fact that your chubby little baby isn’t very little anymore, growing into his own person. Although, the more he grows, the more he’s starting to resemble his father. It’s scary at times, when he looks at you and you get random flashbacks.

Eating dinner and washing up is another thing you love. After such a hectic day, you just want to unwind with your son. You had put in your PTO for the convenience store a month in advance; after a particularly hard month. Finishing at 5:00pm, like most people do, is a breath of fresh air.

You let Koji tire himself out in the tub, then the living room, to which he has Cars playing (his favorite movie at the time). He plays with his own small set of matching cars, while you sweep the kitchen. Your eyes flicker over to your phone that lays face up on the island, a bubbling sensation forming in your being, one of contemplation. You wonder to yourself, would you call Satoru? You know his number by heart, he most likely hasn’t changed it.

After the breakup, you cut off all contact with him and his friends, even choosing to get a new phone and new number, just to avoid any possibly drives of texting him, or to avoid him texting you. You quite literally wanted to erase every memory about him.

Kinda hard to do that when you’re raising his carbon copy.

After another blind minute, you pause your sweeping and grab your cellular device. You’re about to grab Suguru’s business card from your purse when a sudden question hits you.

How was he able to call you earlier at work if you had never given your number to him in the first place?

Your brows knit together while you come up with any possible solutions and reasoning to that thought, coming up blank. Seriously, how did he call you? Without thinking, you go to your recent calls, pressing the first one, and raising your phone to your ear.

It rings for about a second, before Suguru’s coaxing voice follows. “Hello?”

“How did you get my number?”

“What?”

“How did you get my number? I didn’t give it to you at the store.”

You can practically hear the way he’s trying to formulate an answer. Coming up with a shitty one. “I just…guessed.”

You say nothing, your eyes narrowing on a certain spot on the blank white walls of your kitchen.

Another second passes before he gives in, too easily. “Okay, okay. Look, I don’t want to sound creepy or anything but—“

“Were you stalking me?”

“What?! No! Of course not, Y/N. I’d never do that.”

“Then tell me how you got my number without me telling you.”

He sighs. “…I have a friend. He’s in the law enforcement and I…may have asked around. But before you get any ideas, I was worried. You just fell off the face of the Earth and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You can’t stop the huff that leaves you. Should you feel complimented that he went out of his own way to do all this or invaded? Maybe both. Honestly, you did that all for a reason. And he blatantly went behind yours, probably everyone’s, back to get some information on you in a shady way. Isn’t that illegal or something? “Suguru, when people do that, it doesn’t mean they want to be found.”

“I know, Y/N. But I was worried, so was Shoko and Satoru—“

“Does he know my number too?” You ask, already feeling your panic run up your veins, boy straightening into a stiff position.

“No, no, he doesn’t. Just me.” He quickly relieves you.

You guess that’s somewhat better. Although you still feel mildly annoyed at Suguru for what he did. “Is that all you know?” The way he doesn’t respond immediately makes you feel even more frustrated, jaw clenching.

“I….” He lets out a heavy breath. “No, it’s not.”

“What else do you fucking know?”

He winces at your now harsh tone of voice, though he knows it’s all expected. “It wasn’t on purpose, I just wanted your number, I swear. But when you’re looking for that kind of stuff, other things pop up like…address and…yeah.”

If only he could see your expression right now. “You know where I fucking live?”

“Yes, Y/N….”

Okay, now your privacy is very invaded. You have never really gotten angry with Suguru, let alone get into an argument. He always knew when to stop, what not to say to make someone else feel worse, but did he just get fucking dumb after all these years? “…are you serious?” You know he is, not even giving him the chance to answer your rhetorical question. “Fuck you, Suguru. I can’t believe you—you completely—I don’t even know what to tell you right now.”

You can hear the guilt in his voice, tone softening. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I had the best intentions, I was never going to visit you or call you without your specific permission to.”

“Did I give you permission to call me earlier?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Exactly.” With another scoff, you bite your lip, picking the correct words to voice out. You wouldn’t say you’re a word vomit person, usually. But right now, you just feel…slightly weirded out. All this time, you thought you had solitude. But Suguru knew where you were this entire time? “Goodbye, Suguru.”

“Y/N, wai—“

“Don’t. If I need you, I’ll tell you. But right now I don’t want to speak to you.”

He pauses, feeling his gut tighten. Nonetheless, he nods and mutters. “Okay, I’ll give you space. Just please know I’m sorry and I really didn’t have bad intentions.”

Seems like this is the second time today he’s apologizing to you. You don’t like it. Without another word, you end the call, putting your phone back on the hard surface of the island. Jesus Christ. What the hell is going on, seriously?

One minute you’re stressing about getting evicted, then you have to worry about Satoru somehow running into you, and now you find out Suguru has just casually known your address all these years. Why is all of this deciding to be sprung on you all at once? Out of no where? The world must be punishing you for every unholy deed you’ve done in your life; it really doesn’t seem fair. At all. Can’t things just go right for once in your life? You just want to go at least a day without external stressors fucking you over in every way possible.

Of course, you’re unlucky. That’s just how things have always been for you. The universe has a twisted sense of humor, and you’re the punchline to every cruel joke. The thought of Suguru knowing your address sends a cold, uncomfortable shiver down your spine. What else does he know? What else has he been hiding?

The questions swirl in your mind, each one more suffocating than the last. You sit down heavily on the edge of your worn-out couch, its cushions sagging beneath you as though they, too, are tired of carrying your weight. You bury your face in your hands, the skin of your palms rough against your cheeks, and take a deep, shaky breath.

Satoru (and Suguru). Their names alone bring up a storm of emotions you can barely keep bottled up. You’ve worked so hard to keep them, and everything they represent, in the past. Yet here they are, forcing their way back into your life like unwelcome ghosts.

You glance at the stack of overdue bills on the coffee table, mocking you with their bold red lettering. As if you didn’t already know you were drowning. Maybe it’s time to stop fighting the tide.

You watch Koji focus on the bright screen, moving his toy cars in unison with the movie. Willing yourself to worry about the now, to convince yourself that you’re not done, that there’s still some fight left in you.

However, that seems to be proving harder each and every single day.

It’s a chilly, but sunny winter day. The sidewalk filled with other people going about their day. You’re wearing a black trenchcoat, along with a scarf. Hands stuffed into the pockets of your coat as little puffs of white air leave your mouth, a stark piece of evidence of how cold it is today. The heels of your shoes clacking down the concrete, making your way to the familiar cafe of Latte Lounge.

Saturdays are supposed to be happy days, a final breath of fresh air after the business of the weekdays prior. The day where people enjoy Mother Nature and what she has to offer, a day of sleeping in, a day of no responsibilities.

A woman like you has no Saturdays. It’s like every day is a cold, hard Monday.

You finally spot the cafe, its large, glass windows giving you a sneak peek to the liveliness that resides inside. Of course, most people do choose to go to cafes on Saturdays. Especially this early in the morning. Walking in, the small bell above the door dings. The workers behind the counter greet you; while you give them a half greeting back, your eyes scan the environment. It takes a few seconds, but you see Mr. Ito sitting at a table for two in the corner.

You prepare yourself with a heavy sigh, forcing your feet to maneuver you over to the man who smiles and stands once he sees you approaching. “Ms. Y/N, good morning.”

“Good morning.” You’re a little caught off guard when he takes the empty seat from across from him and pulls it out, a silent move of help. Sitting down, he pushes your chair in then walks back over to his own. He laces his fingers together on top of the table. “Get whatever you’d like, on me, remember?”

“Oh, I’m not very thirsty right now.”

“No, please. It’s my pleasure, especially for meeting with me so early this morning.”

A part of you wants to deny his niceness. But, he did cause you to lose money you could’ve still had to spare if you didn’t have to call in Sana to watch Koji. And well, coffee always makes you feel better. “Just an iced vanilla latte.”

He nods and stands up. “Great, I’ll be back.”

Watching him go up to the counter and order, you look back down at your lap. Koji misbehaving sounds odd, he’s always been an obedient kid. Of course he has his moments, but he understands when to listen and when to goof around. A few minutes later, Mr. Ito sits back down with two cups of coffee, sliding yours over to you. You thank him and sip. Hm, not too bad.

There’s a small silence that flows over you two as you taste your coffees, but you wait for him to speak first. He did schedule this little meeting, after all. He clears his throat. “So, Ms. Y/N, again thank you for meeting with me.”

You nod. “Of course, Mr. Ito. Anything for Koji.”

Mr. Ito smiles, his hand waving you off. “Oh please, call me Haruto.”

Already trying to get on a first name basis. Simply nodding again, you raise an eyebrow for him to continue.

“Anywho, like I said earlier this week, I have concerns about Koji’s behavior. You see, he’s had about six instances where he doesn’t listen to me when I say it’s time for silent reading time. I understand he’s a talkative child, but he usually does not act out like this. Would you happen to have any idea as to why he is behaving this way so suddenly?”

“No, I don’t. Koji listens well, and he hasn’t come to me specifically about getting in trouble.” You respond, lips pursing.

Mr. Ito nods in understanding. “I can assume so, but his behavior has started affecting his peers, as well.”

You sit up straighter in your chair. “In what way?”

“Well,” Mr. Ito tilts his head, seemingly recounting the times Koji has misbehaved. “The students who sit around him have started coming to me, complaining about how Koji doesn’t leave them alone. They feel as if he’s taking away from their learning.”

What? Not to mention that that sounds quite…interesting for other five year olds to say, but no way Koji has been that bad. Maybe it’s your bias as his parent, but this is brand new to you, very brand new. Even when he’s home, Koji always insists on doing his homework before playing or eating dinner. So really, you’re not sure how to react to this surge of new information about your own child. “I really don’t know, Mr. Ito. I mean, Koji is a great boy, he listens very well to me and the other adults in his life. I’m just as shocked as you are right now.”

Mr. Ito leans back in his chair, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. “I’m not doubting your parenting skills. Koji’s clearly a bright and energetic boy. Maybe too energetic for some of his classmates to handle.” His tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent there, something you can’t quite place. “It’s possible he’s just seeking attention in ways that might not be obvious at home.”

You nod slowly, though his words don’t sit right with you. Koji doesn’t come across as attention-seeking at all. If anything, he’s a bit reserved until he’s comfortable around someone. “I’ll talk to him tonight and see if I can figure out what’s going on. Maybe there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

“I’m sure you will,” Mr. Ito says, his smile deepening as he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. The movement feels deliberate, like he’s closing some invisible gap between the two of you. “You’ve always struck me as a very attentive parent.”

The compliment lands awkwardly, and you find yourself straightening your back again, instinctively pulling away from his lingering gaze. “Thank you, Mr. Ito,” you say curtly, steering the conversation back to its purpose. “I just want to make sure Koji’s doing well and that his behavior isn’t affecting his classmates.”

“Of course,” he says smoothly, not missing a beat. “And I’m here to help however I can. We could even set up regular meetings if you’d like, to make sure we stay on the same page about Koji’s progress.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you say, your polite tone edging into firmness. “But I do appreciate the offer.”

His smile falters for a brief moment, but he quickly recovers, leaning back in his chair as though he hadn’t just been testing the waters. “Understood. Please, don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything. My door is always open.”

You nod, feeling a distinct shift in the atmosphere—one you’re eager to step away from. “Well, are there any other concerns I should know about, Mr. Ito?”

He looks like he wants to say more, but decides against it. “No, Ms. Y/N. None at all, thank you for coming out.”

“Thank you for the coffee, have a nice day.” You reply, wasting no time in standing up, grabbing your drink in one hand and bag in the other. Though, his voice speaking again causes you to stop.

“Ms. Y/N,” Mr. Ito’s voice stops you just as you push your chair back. You glance at him over your shoulder, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “I really hope I didn’t come across as too forward earlier. I’m just...invested in making sure Koji has everything he needs to thrive.”

You offer a polite smile, settling the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “Of course, Mr. Ito. I appreciate that.”

He smiles, but there’s a pause before he continues. “It’s rare, you know, to see a parent as involved as you are. It’s refreshing.”

The compliment makes you pause, and you clutch your coffee cup a little tighter. “Well, Koji’s my world,” you reply simply, brushing off the remark.

“As he should be.” Mr. Ito leans back in his seat, his fingers lightly tapping the side of his own drink. “But I imagine that must get exhausting sometimes, especially since you seem to handle everything on your own.” His tone is casual, but there’s a softness to it, as if he’s inviting you to confide in him.

You blink, his words catching you off guard. Is he fishing for something? “It’s not always easy,” you admit cautiously, “but that’s just part of being a parent.”

“True,” he says with a small nod, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long. “Still, you shouldn’t hesitate to lean on the people around you when you need to. It’s not a sign of weakness, you know.”

You stiffen slightly, unsure how to interpret his words. They seem innocuous enough, but the way his gaze flickers toward you feels... calculated. “I manage just fine, thank you,” you reply, keeping your tone light but firm.

“Of course,” he says smoothly, raising his hands slightly as if to placate you. “You strike me as someone who handles things with grace. It’s admirable.”

You glance at your watch, eager to end the conversation. “Well, I should get going. I’ll talk to Koji about everything we discussed.”

“Of course.” Mr. Ito stands as you do, his smile as steady as ever. “Thank you again for meeting me. And...if you ever want to talk more, even just about life in general, I’d be happy to listen.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, and you force another polite smile. “Thank you, Mr. Ito. Have a good day.”

“I can walk you to your car, I’m heading out as well.” He quickly suggests.

You shake your head almost instantly, smile feeling more narrow. “No need, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

“But I—“

“Thank you again, but I really must go.” You cut him off, feeling your patience run thin and the desire to be cordial and polite stretching too much. You nod stiffly and turn around to briskly walk out the cafe. However, just as you do so, you collide into something, or someone.

Your open-lidded coffee fumbles a bit in your hand, quickly steadying it. Though it does manage to stain the white shirt of the person you just bumped into. Just great. You hold back a wince and apologize. “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t—“

Your words leave you, your breath feeling like it’s been stolen straight from your chest. Every hair on your body stands up straight, your heart falling straight to your ass like you’ve just hit the biggest drop on a rollercoaster. You know that feeling when you question if something is real or not, pleading with yourself and every deity watching that it’s not? Well, that’s exactly how you feel right now.

It feels like a spotlight has been shone on you without your consent and you suddenly want to throw up. Because as your eyes have moved up to profusely apologize to the stranger, a bucket of water filled with nostalgia and past memories drowns you.

The bright blue, unmistakable irides stare back down at you. A million memories play on repeat, but one thing’s for certain.

The past has never felt so close, and you suddenly want to erase it all and scream.

a/n: the dreaded reunion is here! thank you for reading and the tremendous support! <3 stay tuned for next chap, sorry if yall thought these two were boring, chapter 3 will be getting more into it

taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins @sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited @duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee @devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts

[yournightmary]

Vi HCs

content warning:: i guess there’s some angst? but it’s arcane so it’s nothing new

AN:: just a mix of different headcannons to get me through season 2.

pitfighter!Vi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I’m sorry but she smells so bad. I’m not talking about a little stink- she smells fucking rancid. It’s a mix of sweat, alcohol, blood, hair dye and sometimes even puke. I don’t think she even showers properly, she just runs a wet towel over her body and calls it a day.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She dyes her hair with the cheapest hair dye in front of her cracked mirror- that’s why it’s so shitty. Doesn’t buy enough and ends up not covering her ends every single time.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Barely has any clothes. Owns 3 pairs of jeans and 4 shirts, all of them ragged and stained. Doesn’t even wear the shirts most of the time, she just wraps her chest with bandages.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ At first she didn’t want to do the eyeliner thing but a few fellow fighters told her it’s something to be recognized and remember for. For the first few times she actually payed attention to how she’s applying it, but after that she said fuck it and just slapped it on. Also she doesn’t use proper eyeliner, maybe something like water-activated face paint.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Really craves touch. She’ll glue herself to random girls (bonus points if they have dark blue hair) at bars and blame it on being drunk. Nothing sexual, just plain affections.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Her every day looks the same. Wake up in the middle of the day, sulk on the shitty mattress that she calls her bed, work out, put on her make up, head to the pit, drink till the morning. There’s literally no difference in them.

young!Vi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I don’t know where i’ve read it I think it was like an interview or something but she’s literally just a girl. She didn’t want to be the strong fighter that everyone knows not to mess with, but that’s who she has to be to survive in the Undercity.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Definitely gave music a try. Like be so fr, she has a saxophone on her bed. Maybe she found it on a job and thought it was too cool to sell. Always wanted to play guitar but it was out of her price range.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She knew she liked girls from very early on and so did everyone around her. She didn’t hide it from anyone, there was literally no reason to. In season 1 you can even see she has a poster of a half-naked woman next to her bed, like come on now.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I’ve seen people saying that she doesn’t know how to make food but hear me out. I think she’s actually a pretty good cook due to her being the ‘caretaker’ when Vander couldn’t do it. Definitely cooked for Powder when she woke her up in the middle of the night because she was so hungry it was bordering on being painful.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She cuts her own hair. One time she fucked up so bad she had to shave her whole side and it just kind of stayed with her.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Never does anything for herself. Whenever she finds something- like clothes or food- she gives it to someone else. Always makes sure the others have enough before she takes something for herself.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She feels so guilty after stealing stuff from other people. She’s not stupid and she knows how hard life in the underground is, and that it justifies her actions but still- she’ll roll from side to side instead of sleeping, thinking about how much of a shitty person she is.

dating!Vi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Literally the best girlfriend out there and I will die on this hill.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’s so touch-starved it’s unbelievable. When she was a teen she didn’t really experience anything relationship-like and then she got locked up for a few years. She’ll always have her arm around you, her hand on your hip or waist.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Oh my god her hugs are so good ahhhh. It’s just like being wrapped up in a warm blanket. Really likes to give hugs from behind too.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Loves cuddling, especially if it involves her lying on top of you. She doesn’t need any pillows if she has you and your lap, stomach or chest.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She is such an acts of service girl. And it goes both ways! If you make her dinner or plan a whole date by yourself she’ll feel so loved.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She stares so much it’s borderline creepy. She’ll just look at you in silence for a few minutes before turning her head away with a smile, thinking about how lucky she is to have you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You’ll be cuddling with her before sleep, scratching her back or scalp for the whole time. Once you think she’s asleep you stop and she immediately looks up at you with furrowed brows, asking why you stopped.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ While she is proud of her physique and stuff she does feel self conscious about her hands. Mostly because of all the scars and bruises, maybe a little because of how manly they look.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She was a victim of being treated like a guy because she’s more masculine presenting than feminine. Pay for her food at a restaurant, do her makeup, tell her she looks pretty not handsome.

[phopollo]

Could we also get back stories for Electra and the components and their families?

Love your art❣️❣️❣️

Hoo boy, okay, time to avoid putting off this answer akdbskdje

None of them have like.... "simple" backstories, but talking about the electrics and their backstories in the cartooniverse is definitely the most complicated, because they all tie back to Electra and/or Purse and Krupp. So! I'll start with them!

Another big long post, im so sorry akfnskd

Purse & Krupp

Even though I'm talking about them together, Purse & Krupp didn't know each other or even about each other's existences before being hired to work together. Purse had participated in some shadier money management activities, most of which was under the table work. Trying to get out of that, he applied for a job with a large and well known company and production line, seeking a personal money manager/accountant, legal advisor, and PR rep. Not all the same job for the same person, for the new face of the company. But Purse, feeling cheeky, applied for all three job positions. And then proceeded to land all three of them. Krupp, meanwhile, wasn't anything or anyone special or of note. As an armaments truck, he'd worked part time with public security and part time shuttling things said public security needed back and forth. He was simply looking for a raise, and seeing that this big large company was looking for personal security for the new face of the company, applied, not expecting to get the job. Purse and Krupp met perhaps a week before they met Electra and were given an opportunity to bsck out, as they were still in production when they were hired. Neither Purse or Krupp really processed what their new boss not even being fully built yet meant outside of "Oh, they might be a little naive." (Welcome to fatherhood you two!)

Electra

Electra was factory built specifically for and by the mentioned company that Purse and Krupp were hired by. They had been powered on for perhaps three hours before immediately being shoved in to Purse and Krupp's arms, and then in to their new job. Their entire purpose was to be a pretty face and be convincing for people to want to do business with their company. They didn't work on a line, and they didn't race. Occasionally, they did something more akin to shows, but... never anything that gave them that thrill they'd been seeking. After about 2 years, they made a convincing enough argument to their company to be allowed to participate in a single race-- a decision that the company would later regret, because they'd continue to make arguements to keep entering in races, which they'd always win. Another two years later (so roughly 4 years old total), Electra decided to break off from their parent company to go out on their own in a solo career for racing, having felt so drawn to and called by it. They took Purse and Krupp with them when they did, leaving their company to have to scramble for a new face and employees all over again. Here's some bonus babylectra & their gay dads loyal employees content (both while company owned and on their own)

Wrench

I say this so affectionately, Wrench was a freaky little girl. She was surrogate built for her demolition truck parents, and grew up literally right next to a scrap yard, where she would very happily go play as a kid. She really really liked to take things apart and try to figure out how they worked. Her parents, being demolition trucks who's jobs were also to take things apart, were supportive if not a little concerned by how methodical she was by it, but hey, they guess she's taking an interest in the fsmily business? But one day, while doing her thing and taking scraps apart, she broke her finger and needed to be taken to see a repair truck. And that totally blew her mind. Being able to put things back together?? Oh she NEEDED to be able to do that. She HAD to know how things worked AND be able to make them work. So! Wrench started doing her research to become a repair truck immediately (much to her parents concerned support), despite being far too young to actually begin training. By the time she actually got to her repair training, she was extremely knowledgeable (and morbid-) about diesel and steam engines, as there was so much information out in the world about them. But she was fascinated by the lack of information she could find on electric engines-- so new, constantly changing.... there weren't any experts in her or any of her neighboring yards. So of course, she decided that thats what she wanted to specialize in for repairs, despite not many electric engines passing through her station. (The scrap yard became her best friend during this time.) It was difficult after she became a fully certified repair truck though, due to that lack of electrics passing through her yard and not having the heart to apply for a transfer. She wasn't taken seriously, and frequently wasn't fetched for the few electrics that did need repairs, as the other repair trucks frequently just went ahead and fixed whatever little problem it was-- screw needing tightening, plating reaplications, etc etc. One day, she was called out to one of her neighboring stations though, as there had been a crash on the tracks involving an electric engine-- Electra. When she arrived, rather than just fixing whatever problem was caused by the crash, she also identified and fixed long standing problems they didn't even know they'd had, most of which caused by non electric specialized repair trucks assuming they could fix something minor. She was offered a job as their personal repair truck before she even finished her work that day. Here's a little baby Wrench just starting her repair training & Wrench the day she was hired. She became the first component they'd actually chosen for themself.

Volta

Volta grew up in a bit of a smaller, more conservative yard. The old school traditional freight and coach roles and presentations were more prevelant. So of course, when Volta, as a freight car, started expressing and experimenting with self expression that was viewed as traditionally "more coach-like," caring more for his hair and getting interested in makeup and fashion, he wasn't exactly popular with his peers. Considered too coach-like to get on with the freight, and the coaches unable to see past him being freight and get along. It was rough for the little dude, turning him a bit jaded and snarky at a young age, just out of tje need tor a defense mechanism. It never stopped him, but the constant isolation and judgement did beat him down quite a bit as he made it to adulthood. Meeting Electra, Purse, Krupp, and Wrench was pure coincidence. They were simply passing through a station that was part of his work route at the same time that he was. And he was absolutely enamored with them. They were the first rolling stock he'd seen who's expression of self was so similar to his, how could be not stare? Purse was the one to approach Volta. He wanted to know what shade and brand he used for his eye makeup, and if he thought it would work for Electra. Volta, trying desperately to be more interesting and keep these people talking to him, cracked a joke that they'd have to pay him for a consultation. To his shock, Purse agreed and asked him about prices and appointment times. When Electra & co actually showed up for the consultation, he absolutely faked it until he made it and they were happy with the result. He felt so normal for the first time ever talking to them, that when Electra & co went to leave, he extremely impulsively asked for a job. It was mortifying-- the most embarassing desperate moment of his entire life. Especially when Electra said no. But a moment of weakness and desperation, because several months later Electra returned to offer him a job, looking for a stylist and knowing he was interested. Bonus of of course, baby Volta & Volta the day he was hired

Joule

You know the saying "it takes a village?" Replace "village" eith "circus," and say hello to literally Joule. She wae built as an animal car in a circus train, and while even though not everyone was technically her family, that didn't matter because they all behaved like her family. It was generally an extremely positive environment to grow up in. The obvious downsides to being a performer from a young age and having such a large family of course reared their heads, but generally speaking, she wouldn't say she had a bad childhood. She was working and participating in acts before she hit double digits, but... well there wasn't exactly a lack of animal cars, and in her early teen years began to feel like it wouldn't really matter of she were there or not. She isn't really sure what sparked her interest-- perhaps it was just being different from what she was used to-- but she eventually took interest in the art of fire eating. Researching in to that took her down the road of pyrotechnics, and before she knew it, Joule was converting in to a dynamite truck and switching acts. And she loved it. She loved it for a really long time. She still does, actually, but... well. After awhile, it just made her... tired. Being in front of an audience like that was tiring. After shows, she'd always immediately go check and lock and undo everything that if anything went wrong could make everything brust into flames, and by the time she was done, most of the guests who'd stay to chat were already gone or on their way out. Never talking to anyone but her family and doing the same things every day was just... exhausting. Which is why when she returned from her checks after a show one day and found some massihe blue freak and their entourage waiting to talk to her specifically, who hadn't spoken to anyone else, it was extreme pleasantly surprising. More so when they'd ask her challenging questions about her job and hypotheticals about how she'd do something. And even more so when they'd keep coming back. She'd begun to find the most exciting part about performing was trying to spot them in the crowd and speaking with them afterwards, even if the conversations quickly derailed. It hadn't taken long for her to learn that this massive blue freak was a racer-- Electra-- but it took quite awhile for her schedule to line up to go watch them the way they'd kept coming to see her. It was only fair, wasn't it? But when Joule showed up, the atmosphere was so.... familiar, and yet.... different. It was exciting. And the race was exciting. The idea of going that fast was so alluring. She knew she'd want to get more involved in the racing scene. And watching Electra race? They were so cool and hot and powerful, and-- just-- woah. They lived like this? They just went to different places, and they didn't have a set routine when they performed? Extremely enticing. And when Electra saw her in the crowd and waved to her? And then immediately approached her after winning? Insane. It made Joule feel more seen than she had in her entire life. She didn't hesitate in the slightest when they offered her a job. And as per usual, bonus baby Joule & Joule the day she was hired

Killerwatt

Killerwatt's story doesn't actually begin with him-- he doesn't actually show up until late. It actually starts about 2 years before he's built, when Purse and Krupp start to disagree with some of the choices Electra had been making. At first, they kept their mouths shut. It wasn't frequent. They weren't decisions that were big deals. But the more time went on, the bigger deals they were, and eventually, they couldn't keep their mouths shut about it. It started to get bad, with frequent argurments and disagreements, and tension hanging over everyone. Now, with Electra as their own company, their own business, they began to wonder if they really needed Purse and Krupp. They had long since learned to mange their own bank accounts and the legalities of things, and Volta and Joule had honestly taken up most of the social media managing that Purse was supposed to be doing. And fans were respectful-- there hadn't been any threats made other than with fellow racers, of which, Electra could easily handle themself. What was Krupp even doing? But-- sentimentality kept them from firing them. About five months prior to Killerwatt's building, Electra finally decided and told Purse and Krupp that they wouldn't be renewing their contracts. And when asked if they were being replaced, grew extremely concerned that Electra didn't plan to at least replace Krupp. The only reason Electra thought he wasn't doing anything was because he was good enough at his job that the security details never reached them. Purse and Krupp were so undeniably attached to Electra after almost 10 years together, and they were extremely nervous about leaving them with no protection. So the two of them formed a plan. About two weeks before their contracts ended, having waited and timed things as last second as they could so Electra wouldn't notice until after they were gone and it was too late, and while it was still legal due to some fun loopholes Purse found, the two of them pushed through a commission order to a factory. A commission... specifically for a security truck for a Electra. And their plan worked. Electra got the email two weeks after Purse and Krupp left that their security truck would be ready in about a week, and did they want to come choose from the batch themself, or have one randomly selected and sent out to them? (They learned a very hard lesson to check their bank account more frequently that day.) So Electra, after tweaking out over Purse and Krupp spending their money, and on a security truck that they did not want, decided that-- well they wouldn't let this all be a total waste. And it wouldn't be fair for someone to be built to do something and not even have the chance to, they'd offer the smallest timedrame contract they could. So they showed up about two days after the batch had been finished and had time to be told what to expect, as almost all factory built rolling stock get. And... well, none of them really stood out. They were all so well trained in security already that there really wasn't anything that made any of them stand out, and, honestly, Electra was on the verge of just hiring whichever one they thought would clean up best and look good next to the rest of the components. But-- hold on, I actually have a visual for this moment

And I fear then both of their faces were sealed in that moment. Electra had to have this one. He was the only one looking at and following them. And-- well even if he wouldn't be doing much of anything, how could they possibly hire a security truck who wouldn't keep their eyes on them and their safety?? It's now been 3 years, and Electra has since learned his name is Killerwatt, and this was the best hiring decision they could have ever made. Bonus Babywatt doodle, of course, just to show off his pretty curls better

[obsessedwithlute]

If The Hazbin Hotel Characters Worked At A School

Charlie- You might think Charlie would be the principal but NO! Charlie is the therapist! She tries to get everyone into her office for a session by the end of the year- including the teachers! Vaggie- Vaggie would teach mainstream math. Her favorite thing about teaching math is giving people extra homework when they disrupt her class. (A lot of people leave with extra homework. One time Angel Dust walked in on her in the middle of a test, and she made him do a homework sheet).

Angel Dust- He is a substitute. He's actually qualified to teach computer science, but he doesn't. It's his best kept secret why he doesn't.

Husk- He teaches Italian. He's not properly fluent in Italian and only got the job because Lucifer lost a gamble to him and Husk said he'd let him keep his money if he did "one tiny favor". Angel Dust likes to lurk outside Husk's classroom when he gets the chance, and the second Husk mispronounces a word, Angel will stick his head in, correct him and then dart back out. Husk pretends to hate it but he actually finds it really hot. (Angel Dust was also actually the one who TAUGHT Husk Italian).

Lucifer- Lucifer is the principal. He doesn't really care what most of his employees do, including stalking the Italian teacher, cruel and unusual punishment during guitar lessons, or fucking in the janitor's closet. As long as "most of his employees" doesn't include Alastor.

Alastor- Alastor actually teaches health, or sex ed, or whatever you call it. He went to college and got a degree and didn't do it "The Husk Way" all so he could do two things: 1. Properly represent queer people, especially trans people, during the class because he knows, as a trans person, that it's really hard not to feel undermined during the class. 2. Make jokes about being an asexual person teaching sex ed (I'm not asexual/aromantic but it just seems like the kind of thing Alastor would do- especially considering how he reacts to Angel badly propositioning him). If you make a queerphobic comment in Alastor's class, you're dead. Possibly literally. Alastor never actually adheres to the curriculum, and Lucifer keeps trying to break into his class and catch him but somehow Al is always two steps ahead. When Lucifer is not at school, Alastor takes his whole class down to the kitchens and has them make jambalaya for the whole period. If you can't eat jambalaya, Alastor has a whole closet full of alternative ingredients for you but EVERYONE IS EATING SOME FORM OF JAMBALAYA OR EVERYONE HAS TO FIX ALASTOR'S VINTAGE RADIOS DURING DETENTION FOR A MONTH.

Lute- She teaches biology and is that one teacher who everyone either loves or hates. She runs the GSA and has weekly meetings and she's also the teacher who becomes your replacement mom if your real mom sucks. (This also applies to the teachers, she's also basically Angel Dust's mother by now). If you make a queerphobic comment in her class, she will stalk for exactly two weeks after you say it, slowly recording every single discriminatory thing you say. Then she will make you stay after school hours and reads off her entire list. Then she assigns you detention for two weeks and makes you write a 5-page essay on whatever chapter of Queer Ducks her heart desires in size 8 Arial font during the few precious hours of the day you don't have detention.

Adam- He teaches the jazz band, and if you play guitar, you get double lessons. Twice a month, Adam conducts tests randomly. You have to get up and play a song of his choice- no sheet music allowed. If you mess up even once, Adam gets to smack your guitar with a rock and you get to pay for the damages. (Lucifer knows, doesn't care, and makes rubber duck voodoo dolls all day long.)

Cherri- She teaches gym and if a student isn't running fast enough, she throws basketballs at them. Not hard to HIT them, but just enough to give them some motivation.

Sir Pentious- He doesn't work at this school. He works at a preschool in a different town. But since it's only a half-day, as soon as he gets the chance, he leaves and goes to stare longingly at Cherri while she somehow manages not to get fired. Everyone is just used to him being there, and he's fine with that.

[andbreakmynose]

You Are My Sympathy - My Better Self

You never expected to work as the babysitter for a single father who just happened to be Alex Turner, you also never expected to end up in this situation with the man you technically worked for.

WARNINGS: SMUT!! slight angst, also slight fluff. single dad! alex, the car! alex, age gap (not specified), blowjobs

Word Count: 4.5k

Celebrity babysitter was never something you thought you’d put on your resume. You had been babysitting since your teen years, so it was natural you continued doing it as an adult. It also helped that you really enjoyed it.

One of the worst parts of moving to the city after graduating university was that everything cost more than it did in your small hometown. Paying rent, your student loans, and the general costs of living was becoming difficult on a babysitter's budget, and you felt bad about upcharging your regular clients.

It got worse over the summer; the parent who paid you the best no longer required your services because she got the summer off of work. You were looking everywhere for a new family to work with, but it seems like everyone was asking for too much and paying too little. Sometimes you consider having to get a full-time job instead of just babysitting.

It was a casual comment by your housemate Laura that led you to where you are now. You were complaining about not finding work while downing beers when she joked that maybe there was some celebrity looking for a nanny that would pay you a ton. To her it was a joke, but after she went to bed you spent all night browsing websites that quite literally were for celebrities needing nannies.

You applied for a bunch, but the first one that reached back to you was a single father who was looking for someone to watch his 3-year-old daughter while he worked long hours. Some overnights would be required, but you’d also be able to sleep in your own bed at night. It sounded perfect.

Going to the interview, you expected anyone but him. You thought you’d be working for some sort of businessman, maybe a CEO, with the amount he was offering as pay. But no, you sat in front of Alex fucking Turner and his 3-year-old daughter, Ayla. You were starstruck at first but got over it when you realized how normal he was. All he wanted was the best for his daughter. He seemed to like you, and so did the little one, so you got the job.

And here you were, getting paid $4,000 a day to take care of the sweetest toddler you had ever worked with.

You sighed, looking over at the clock: 7:50pm, which meant it was about time to put the child to bed. You had bathed her, and she was already in her pajamas, but you were honestly enjoying the current game of Barbie dolls you had going on.

Kneeling on the floor of the cozy but fancy living room, your Barbies were currently busy packing their bags for a trip on their Barbie airplane. The pink plastic airplane was the gift you gave Ayla last Christmas; it wasn’t the most expensive gift, but she absolutely adored it. Alex, in return, got you a new coffee maker that you savored every morning.

You were just about to tell Ayla to put the dolls down and start heading up to the pink plush palace she called her bedroom when the door opened. Alex had come home early.

“Daddy!” The little one cried out when she saw him, toddling over to attach herself to his leg.

He laughed and scooped her up, setting her on his hip.

“Hello yourself, sweetheart,” he boops her nose, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile, and then turns to you. “Was she good today? Cause any trouble?”

You shook your head; you honestly had never had ANY problems with the child.

“She was perfect. And she ate all of her veggies for lunch and dinner!” You tell him with a proud smile that you were both proud of her and satisfied with your own work. You were a good babysitter, and both of you knew it.

“All your veggies? Really? What a good little angel!” Alex beamed, ruffling the girl's head. He made sure to tell you every day how much of a lifesaver you were and how much he appreciated it, but it really wasn’t enough to explain just how grateful he was.

“I was just about to put her to bed; actually, I’m sure she’d love it if you came and read her a bedtime story.” You suggest with a soft smile; you loved Alex’s voice, and you’re sure the little one did too; the idea of him reading a bedtime story sounded like the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard of.

He thought it over for a second before nodding. He was dead tired from his day, but he’d never miss the opportunity for some more time with his little angel, especially since he didn’t get to see her as much as he’d want to.

He motions for you to follow him up the stairs to the pink palace that his daughter called a bedroom, sitting her down on the bed and placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Alright, babygirl, Daddy’s going to read you a story, okay?” He says gently; the smile on his face from being around her was like something you’ve never seen before. The little one claps excitedly and gets comfy in her bed while Alex looks at the books scattered on the floor.

“Which does she like?” He asks you; he wants to get it perfect, to make this the best bedtime story for his baby.

You hum as you look through all the books on the floor, eyes settling between two. “She’s a fan of both ‘Goodnight Moon’ and 'If You Give a Mouse a Cookie’, maybe one of those?”

Alex nods and picks up ‘If You Give a Mouse a Cookie,’ grinning widely as he does. “This one sounds good, especially since Daddy really wants a cookie right now.”

His words inspire laughter from all three of you, his being quieter and more reserved at his own joke while yours was sweeter and more of a giggle (the little girl’s laughs were more to copy her two favorite people).

He sits down on the floor next to her and starts to read through the pages: “If you give a mouse a cookie, he will ask for a glass of milk.” His voice is somehow firm and gentle, his accent giving almost a form of refinement to the stupid words on the pages. You sit down next to him and watch in awe as he goes through the different accents and makes different sounds to represent what he’s reading. It’s clear he was in showbusiness; if he wasn’t a singer, he might be a damn good actor.

By the time he’s finished the book, her eyes are already shut and small snores are coming from her tiny lips. To Alex, it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen, but you’d say that’s actually the sight of him watching her with so much adoration in his eyes.

He stands up and beckons you out of the room, shutting off the light and closing the door.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks you, thinking about the new bottle of Merlot he bought a week ago and hadn’t really had the time to get to yet.

You should probably say no; you still have to walk home. But there’s such a sparkle in his eyes that you really just can’t say that to him. So instead, you nod and follow him to the kitchen.

The conversation is simple as he pours the first glasses; he asks about what you and Ayla did today, and you ask him about his day at work. He never really says much about his job; you assume there’s some sort of confidential stuff with the album he’s recording. It’s fine though; you can’t expect him to let his guard down around you.

“You know you’re the first fan I’ve ever shared a glass of wine with?” He says with a small smirk, He thinks you’re unreasonably pretty, but he’d never say that. To him, you’re the savior of his life, making sure the only person he cares about is safe and happy.

“I’m sure I’m also the first fan who’s ever gotten to watch Peppa Pig with your daughter.” You joke back, bringing the glass to your lips. Alex laughs at your joke; his eyes are tired, but they still light up just at the idea of you and his kid.

“You’re so good with her. I know I say that every time we talk, but you truly are so good with her.” His compliments never fail to truly touch your heart, especially since you know he means them completely.

"Aw, you’re welcome. You may be the most unusual family I’ve worked with, but she’s one of the sweetest kids.” You smile back at him; it also never hurts to have your work complimented.

“I think she wishes you were part of our family full time; every time I take her to an outing, she asks if you’re coming too.” He looks over at you as his lips attach to the wine glass; he doesn’t include the part about how he’d also like you to be part of the family; it’s all about the little one.

“She’s such a darling!” You reply, making an ‘aww’ face at his words. The idea that you’ve been such an important part of this child's (and this rockstar’s) life is so special.

“You know if you ever want me to come to those things and be an extra pair of hands, I’d be honored; you don’t even have to pay me. You already pay me enough.”

Alex nods at your suggestion; it’s a nice idea. He’d love to bring you to cookouts with the rest of the band and playdates with the other parents he knows. He’d love to bring you around anywhere; you were really one of the most gentlehearted people he’s ever met.

“I’ll have to take you up on that sometime soon.” He says, straightening his button down slightly. He hasn’t had a chance with you alone like this in a long while; maybe it was time for him to finally say what he’s wanted to.

“You know love,” he starts, the pet name not going over your head. “I think you’re really special. One of the kindest women I’ve ever met. And I know how much you get along with Ayla, but I’d love to just get to know you one on one more. Would that be okay?”

He’s anxious at his own suggestion; if you don’t approve and find him weird, you could get mad at him. And the worst-case scenario is that you could quit and he’d have to find a new babysitter; none would be as good as you.

His words might just be music to your ears; you always found him rather attractive, and seeing him and his daughter evoked feelings you didn’t really understand, but you never wanted to let yourself think about that further. He was technically your boss, but he was also suggested going on what sounded like a date. Every professional bone inside of you was screaming at you to say no, but goddamnit, you haven’t been on a date in years now.

“I’d love to!” Is the word you decide on, a smile appearing on both of your faces instantly?

Alex thanks the Lord internally that you didn’t flip out and that you actually seemed excited about the whole thing. So many ideas flood his head of what he could do to make this date perfect for you.

“Do you like Italian food? There’s this really nice place down the street that I’ve been to a few times. It's also super quiet, so no one can bother us,” he suggests. He hadn’t actually been at that restaurant since he was with his ex-girlfriend, Ayla’s mother, but he’s been meaning to go back.

You nodded almost instantly; you did love Italian food. It was like he could read your mind; that was literally your idea of the perfect first date. The idea of it being quiet was also appealing; she’s heard stories from him of what it can be like when fans or paparazzi find him.

“Sounds lovely!”

Alex beams at your words, a wide smile appearing on his face. He was already deciding on when to take you and what he was going to wear. You were just so special, and he wanted to make sure you knew how much he cared about you and appreciated you.

“You’re lovely, truly. I don’t think you know how lovely you are.” His voice is warm, and he takes your hands in his. He hasn’t felt this giddy about a woman in years, and he almost felt like a teen again.

“You flatter me; you’re a lovely person too, and a great father.” You respond to him, looking down at your joint hands. Sometimes he was so in his own head and it bothered you; he was just so special.

He lets out a low laugh and shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling for a second.

"God, no, I’m a mess. And I’m barely a father; you do more work than me.” His words were sad, but he meant them; he never felt truly good enough in any way. As a musician he thought he was past his prime, and as a father he thought he was an utter failure. It was you that kept his family afloat.

You furrow your eyebrows at his words; they hurt you for some reason. You’ve seen him and his daughter; they were so happy together. She loved him, and you could tell he thought she was the most beautiful person on earth.

You gently release your hands from his and cup his face. “Hey no. That’s not true. You are such a good father; your daughter loves you so much.”

He lets out a small gasp at the feeling of your hands on his face; it was a tenderness he hadn’t felt in about as long as he could remember. He never let his guard down, and now you were practically coaxing him into being vulnerable and open, and he felt safe. At the sound of his gasp, your own heart starts to beat faster, and you rest your forehead against his. It’s a silent gesture to show him that you really, truly care. And he feels it, and for once the world doesn’t feel so awful.

He looks up at you with his dark eyes, waiting for a silent signal of anything. He wasn’t going to push you into something; he just wanted you to stay. You let out a small nod; he could probably manipulate you into joining a cult at this very moment.

He leans slightly closer to you, his lips almost touching yours before he pulls away. He can’t be the one to kiss you; that would be breaking every rule. It’s an easy thing to notice how hesitant he seems, and it’s almost adorable to you. You grin up at him, reassuring him by squeezing his cheek with the hand still on his face. Realizing he’s probably too shy to be the one to break a boundary, you decide to cross every bridge, pressing your lips gently against his.

His lips are dry and cracked; he probably didn’t think about taking care of them. He didn’t have a reason to; he wasn’t really planning on kissing anyone until all of this. The kiss is simple, the type that you see at the end of an old Hollywood movie where they weren’t allowed to make out. He takes a second to fumble with his hands; he doesn’t really feel like going directly into groping right now. His biggest fear is scaring you off. So instead he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

Even if the kiss wasn’t passionate, there was more emotion found in his lips against yours than any makeout session you had with college boyfriends. He felt truly cared for for the first time in a while; you just felt head over heels crazy about him.

Slowly, after he pulls away for a deep breath and to take in your rosy cheeks, he deepens the kiss. It starts with him gently licking at the bottom of your lip; it’s light enough that if you want to pull away, you can, but you don’t. You give him the permission he wants, and he swirls his tongue into the cavern of your mouth. He wants to get to know every inch of you—everything that made you the sweetest girl he had ever met.

The insides of his mouth had an aftertaste of coffee and cigarettes, just as you may have predicted in your late-night fantasies. There was rarely a time you saw him without one of the two, and it was endearing how that even crossed into his kisses. He hugs you impossibly closer before removing his lips from yours.

“You’re so fucking perfect. I don’t understand how I deserve you. I’m a fucked up single dad; I pay you to help me make my life less chaotic. I don’t deserve your tenderness.” He starts to ramble, pressing his head against yours again. His words ignite a spark in your chest; it’s just so untrue that it makes you angry. You wish there was a way to explain to him that he was doing nothing wrong; he was maybe the best parent you’ve ever seen.

Your brain is filled with thoughts on how you could reassure him, but there’s no words you can think of. You look down at his jeans and then back up at him.

“Can I show you how enchanted I am by you? How much I don’t care about your flaws?” You ask him, hand gently ghosting over his hips. His breath hitches, and he nods. There’s a deep worry at the back of his throat that you may feel obliged to do this, but the devotion in your eyes changes his mind instantly.

“Of course, sunshine. I’d love that.” He smiles at you as you sink to your knees on the kitchen floor, looking up at him with a warm beam. ‘Sunshine’ was one of the first things he ever said to you; on the first day you worked with Ayla, he told you that you were just like a work of art.

You wrap your fingers into his belt buckle and remove it, setting it on the floor next to you. You’ve given plenty of blowjobs, but this one felt more personal, more important. As stupid as it sounded, you felt like the safety of the world depended on you sucking his dick at this very moment.

By the time you slide his jeans and boxers off, you’re met with the fact that he’s big, like really big, and he isn’t even fully hard. Of course he was big; he was a fucking rockstar. There was no way he wasn’t big. But you were still a bit nervous that you wouldn’t be able to handle it all.

As if he could sense your hesitation about his size, he ropes his fingers into your hair and forces you to look up at him. “Take the time you need sunshine; you’ll be perfect, I promise.”

His words not only send a wave of arousal between your thighs, but they also give you the reassurance you need. Wrapping your hand around his thick cock firmly, you give him a few pumps to get him totally hard.

It doesn’t take long; he’s so attracted to you, and this moment was just so fucking hot. His cock is even bigger than you could’ve imagined; you hollow your cheeks just looking at it. It takes you a minute to think of where to start, but you remembered one thing your ex-boyfriend loved.

You begin by peppering his shaft with soft kisses, going all the way from the head to his balls (you pay extra attention to his balls, noticing the way his breath hitches at the lightest bit of contact). This is almost exactly what Alex would’ve expected from you; even the way you sucked Dick was sweet and tender.

After his dick is thoroughly covered with every kiss possible, you wrap your hand around the base and lean forward, swirling your tongue around the tip. His breath hitches, and he fights back his body’s urge to thrust forward; he wanted to let you take as long as you needed.

It starts with gentle licks and suckers; you want to warm your mouth up. It’s been a while. You do eventually start to suck on his head, hollowing out your cheeks so you can go farther. You don’t start to bob on his cock immediately, just a few gentle sucks. You look up at him for confirmation that you were doing okay.

Of course you were doing okay; it’s been so long that you could’ve just grazed his dick with your pinky and he would’ve exploded everywhere. He gives you a reassuring smile and brings his hand to your hand, gently guiding you to start bobbing.

That’s just what you needed—the slight act of dominance. You start moving your mouth up and down his shaft, your mouth feeling so perfectly full. The first time you try to deepthroat him, you gag, his dick hitting a spot pretty deep in your throat.

Alex, gentleman he is, immediately pulls you off and looks at you with concern, but you shake your head. “I’m fine, Alex, I promise,” you say before reattaching yourself to his hardness. This time it’s more passionate, faster. You’re remembering everything that made past partners tick, and you’re learning what Alex loves.

For example, he lets out a guttural moan when you gently fondle his balls, but you could’ve guessed that from the way he reacted to the kisses earlier. He moans again when you suck on him AND swirl your tongue at the same time, and you can hear the way his breath changes based on how fast or slow you’re going.

Once you determine the pace that’s drawing the most whines out of you, he brings his hand back to your head, guiding you down his cock further. This time you’re able to go all the way down, and with his full cock in the back of your throat, you look up at him with a sense of pride. All you ever want to be is helpful for him, doing the most. He gives you a tap on the back as if to say ‘good job.’ These seconds of quiet without your head moving remind you that you’re so soaked the floor is probably wet, and then he pushes you back up.

You keep this rhythm for a while, alternating between sucking him and letting him guide your head. You know he’s close; you can sense the way he’s starting to twitch in your mouth, and his heartbeat is starting to become erratic. He wants to cum in your mouth, on you, inside you, anywhere he could get it. He’s starting to become obsessed.

“Can I cum in your mouth sunshine?” He asks you, voice breaking a few times in his sentence. He doesn’t know what you’re okay with yet; maybe you’re the type of girl that would prefer to be covered in his spillage.

You pull away enough to respond, watching the way his shaft is almost convulsing. “I would love for you to cum in my mouth,” you say with a grin before laughing slightly. It was an absurd statement to say to someone who was practically your boss, but it was also really damn hot at the moment. He laughs too; he liked that he could do that while still having sex with you.

His laughs, however, are interrupted by you suddenly deepthroating him, looking up at him with eyes that are just giving him permission to cum down your hot throat. After a few more suckers, he starts to grip the kitchen counter and loses control over his hips and breath; if he wasn’t so turned on, he’d think he looks pathetic. To you, it’s beautiful that he’s coming apart and you’re bringing him this level of pleasure.

He whines when his loads start to spill into your throat, pulling out of you and gripping harder to the counter. It takes him a minute to steady his breath, admiring the way your eyes are lust-blown and the sight of your throat swallowing.

There was a lot of cum, but it was his. You liked that it was his, and you made sure to swallow it all. It didn’t have a taste you could really identify, so you decided to call it 'Alex.' It was him at his most vulnerable. You loved it.

He pulls his pants up, shuffling for his belt on the floor. You look over at the time, 10:30; you should probably get home soon before your roommate starts to worry.

“I want to return the favor. Let me taste you.” He says suddenly, almost begging you. It breaks your heart to have to shake your head no.

“I should really get home, but I’ll have to take you up on that offer later. Maybe after that date, yeah?” You smile warmly at him, grabbing his clammy hand and squeezing it a few times. He pouts in protest but then nods; he didn’t want you to be too tired at work tomorrow either.

"Alright, love, I’ll see you here tomorrow in the morning, yeah? I probably won’t be home until late again, big studio session. But I’ll make sure to take Friday off for our date.” He grins; just the idea of taking you on a date fills him with a warmth only his daughter had made him feel in the past years.

You pull him into a hug and press a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Alex. Maybe I’ll take Ayla to the park.” You grab your bag and start to walk towards the door, your face still flushed pink. “I can’t wait for our date.”

He gives a nod in agreement at that, too out of words to say anything else. It hurt him to see you leave, but you’d be back in no time.

“And Alex, thank you for letting me be a part of your family. Even if our dynamic is changing.” You reach the door, opening it with your hand.

“Thank you for being a part of our family, Sunshine. I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

AN: was reading jane eyre (also where the title came from) when i came up with this, i got really obsessed with that dynamic. might turn this into a series idk

[thr0wnawayy]

Where Are They At?: A look into a Post Liberation World

Hey y'all. This post serves as an overview/in sight into MHA's world post Liberation War.

Unlike my previous posts these will be written from an "outside" perspective. Another thing I should note is in regards to the movies (can also apply to the LN):

Taken from my notes: (Movies aren't canon but the characters and settings are [ WHM being the exception due to fitting in the vanilla TL) -Thr0wnawayy

The Shimano family had their island home ruined in the wake of the PLW.

After the heroes used the villains as cannon fodder and warped them across Japan(and co), the Shimano's found themselves at a loss.

1. Villains had quite literally fallen out of the sky

2. The battles they fought were inescapable due to having no safe way off the island.

Most of the island had been rendered inhospitable in the aftermath.

With nowhere to go* the entire community fell apart. The Shimano's fled to America to start a new life, meeting the Tsuyoshi's along the way.

Their story is one of many, those who could afford it left the country for good. Becoming known as the "Seekers" (In Australia they're called Roosties, in Otheon they are called Sköll)

_______________________________________

Without getting too much into spoilers, here's some world news:

Nedzu's pressuring only lead to greater resentment from aiding countries.

The amount of favours Nedzu had to cash in was astronomical and this led to the country sinking further into debt due to acquiring interest, with Japan now owing the various countries debt money.

Stars and Stripes Death will be seen as the equivalent of a second pearl habour by the US (and yes, history has been preserved well enough for MHA's America to remember that.)

Further contributing to America's hate of Japan was the fact that when the (Endeavor-Dabi) drought hit the west coast, the other nations had no resources left to extend. Not for the US and not for themselves, with the effort to rebuild Japan having drained their finances (even with the cut corners).

Thus souring the HPSC's/Japan's relations further with the world stage, worse still, most of the buildings were temporary (being meant to be redone or renovated), not structurally stable and meant to be lived in for 2-5 years at best.

U.A was especially a victim of this, with repairs having been rushed in time for graduation (which further tightened UA's spending). Over-all It was a rush job and corners had to be cut to meet deadlines

Uraraka Construction and many other companies had their reputations rise and fall seemingly over night (though this wont happen until 1A reaches their 3rd year).

In the aftermath of the war, single parent families and orphan rates have skyrocketed.

Midoriya's weather changing punch fucked up the meteorologist's data, no one could have seen the drought coming.

Not all the footage recorded by the businesses course was used (approved) for the broadcast

*if you thought the rebuilding efforts were bad in the mainland, then it was practically nonexistent for the islanders, being the most neglected group besides quirkless individuals.

It should be noted that Monoma was the one to create the portals using Kurogiri's quirk, however he lacked both the experience and fine control necessary for accuracy. Hence why some of the portals were in the sky, this also contributed to the random placement of the portals.

Although only Gigantomachia and The Sludge Villain were put under Shinso's mindcontrol, the general belief of the public is that all the villains were influenced rather than disoriented and panicked.

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Gotham Year One | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Magician!OC

Synopsis: Vivian tells the story of her first year in Gotham and her first encounter with the Batman.

Gotham City. They say it's an anarchy city. There’s not a night when that place ever has peace and quiet, and any smart person would rather not move there at all unless they’re on the run. But it was the only place that actually gave me a shot. 

Five universities, four I passed on the entrance exam and application essay but only one offered a full scholarship. It was a hard choice for me and for my family but we all knew it was for the best. So much has happened to me last year that maybe getting a change of scenery and being far away from anyone I knew in that life would be good.

It took a lot of convincing before Dad finally gave in, a lot of talks and arguments, and eventually I asked help from his parents, my grandparents, who were willing to lend me the money to help me settle in Gotham. 

After a seven-hour long flight with only seeing the clouds and, occasionally, the ocean, I finally saw the city. From here, Gotham is clean, shafts of concrete and rooftops. The work of long generations of families who either established themselves to live in the borders of the city or those who have lived in the very heart of Gotham.

So, this is where Mom grew up.

She never really talked much about Gotham, and when she does it always feels like some bad memory. Just as Essex is to me after that night.

I shouldn’t expect any special treatment, I don’t have any relatives that I know of in Gotham, if there were they never bothered to reach out at all, but it would have been nice to have someone waiting for me with my name on some board. 

“It’s Bruce Wayne!’

“Bruce Wayne’s back!”

A bunch of reporters ran past me like I was some sort of ghost they thought they would run through. One asshole literally bumped against my bag and didn’t apologize. He had the nerve to actually say: ‘Watch it!”

Asshole.

The man must be a celebrity since everyone ran up to see him and the fact there was a reporter in the scene saying, “The twenty-five-year-old heir to the Wayne millions declined to comment on rumors of romance in his life or on his plan on his return to Gotham after many years abroad. We’ll keep you posted on Gotham’s richest – and best looking  – native son. Tom?”

Wayne. So, he’s the owner of the Martha Wayne Foundation, the one that accepted my scholarship application all because I said my mom was a Gothamite. The foundation that helped me get to Gotham University too. 

Bruce Wayne… he looks like a prick.

~*~

The apartment I got was a little far from university. Normally, students would take dorms on campus, either buy or rent a condo close there too but with the limited funds I was getting from the Martha Wayne Foundation, I didn’t have that kind of luxury. The apartment was a little small for three occupants but we made it work. My roommates were nice enough to give me the single room while they took the shared bunks since they knew each other longer. The living room was basically our dining place and kitchen, and we only had one bathroom to share.

The place was two bus rides to Gotham University, had some diners and stores around that I could apply for a part-time job. It had a decent security measure which was basically the gated front door with the buzzer. Not that safe but I didn’t tell Dad that.

“Hey, Liverpool!” One of my roommates called for me when I was about to head out to get dinner. They started calling me that when I mentioned where I was from. “Didn’t you say you came from the airport earlier? Did you see him?”

“Who?” I asked, pulling down my headphones.

“Bruce Wayne! He just came back from God-knows-where! Did you see him?”

“Uh, yeah, I saw him.”

“Did you get a good look at him?”

“I didn’t really stick that long.”

“Is he really that good looking in real life too?”

I looked at the T.V. and saw the image of the man at the airport. The twenty-five-year-old millionaire who was keeping up the facade of charming and mysterious. “Yeah, that’s his face alright.”

“Did you at least ask for a photo?”

“I didn’t really stick around that much. And I don’t really know him — I mean, I know of him and his family but not him as a celebrity,” before she could ask another question, I cut it, “I’m heading out to get something to eat. You guys want anything?”

“Nah, we’re good. Have fun!” 

“Okay! See you later!”

“Hey, wait up!” Jack, my other roommate, closed the door just as I was about to leave. “Listen, Liverpool. You’re new here, and… maybe going out alone isn’t the best thing to do?”

“I’ll just go across the street, don’t worry. I’ll be back. Eat and run.”

Jack sighed. “Wait here.”

“Okay…”

He left for his room and came out a few minutes later wearing his jacket and shoes. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to —”

“I don’t know what they told you about Gotham. But it’s not a place for someone to go out at night alone.”

“I can handle myself.”

“It won’t go well in my conscience if you were ever mugged or worse out there. And it’s your first night here,” he got out a twenty-dollar bill. “My treat.”

~*~

The diner was decent, they had good food, passable for a three-dollar meal, but bad coffee. Really bad. Jack purposely didn’t tell me how bad it is just to see my face when I take my first sip. 

“How’s Gotham so far?” He asked. ‘Homesick yet?”

“Not so much, maybe when I’m alone it’ll kick in.”

“Not close with family?”

“I am. We are close. It took a while for my dad to let me do this – travel across an ocean to got to a university in a place that I know no one.”

“What about your mom?”

“She died a couple of years back.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t know. You’re going to GU too, right?”

“Yeah.”

I waited for a while to hear an explanation but he didn’t follow up.  “What are you taking?”

“Engineering — well, software engineering. I got in on a scholarship. The Martha Wayne Foundation. You?”

“History Majoring in Symbology and Iconography.”

“An odd choice. You don’t really hear many people taking that specific course around here. Especially pretty girls like you.”

“Really?” I smirked. “It’s my first night here, at least wait a couple of days before saying something like that.”

Jack raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry. But can you blame me? It’s not everyday you find a fresh face in Gotham. Let alone someone who still has high hopes in this dump.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“I’ll  give you three days before you start cursing these streets and its people.”

“Don’t need to wait three days,” I couldn’t help the grin. “So, you and Heather… are you both…”

Jack shrugged. “We’re old high school classmates who found a familiar face during the entrance exams and thought of renting a place. It was a good plan – two people sharing an apartment — until the jack-ass who own the building raised the rent.”

“Hence the two-bedroom apartment became a two-bedroom for three,” Vivian concluded. “I get it… can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“I’ve read about Gotham, its history, the families, but the Waynes…” Jack grinned. “I’m just asking because I saw Bruce Wayne in the airport and he seems like a big deal, and I feel like I should know him considering I’m also in the Martha Wayne Foundation — well, my scholarship is.”

Jack took a breath. “Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s Prince… the youngest millionaire there is, and only because he was born in the right family. Where to begin?”

“He’s that complicated?”

“No, but I don’t want to scare you or something.”

“Believe me, I don’t scare that easily.”

“Everyone knows about the Waynes, especially Bruce Wayne. They’re like — well, for a time, they were Gotham’s saviors. They were people who actually wanted to make a change. Can’t say they were like Kennedy but, you get the picture. Doctor Thomas Wayne was the head of the family, he married Martha Kane — daughter of one of Gotham’s old rich families too. 

“Come close. Look there. See that? There, just beyond the train rails, you’ll see a tower with all the gargoyles. See it?”

I followed to where he pointed outside the window. It was dark but when the helicopter passed by the sky, a silhouette of a building appeared. 

“That’s Wayne Tower, the tallest building there is in Gotham. That says a lot on how rich the Waynes are and how powerful they were.”

“Were?”

“Almost twenty years ago, Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot in Crime Alley. The family was just heading home from the theater – God-knows-why they went to Crime Alley in the first place. But to witness it all was their son, Bruce Wayne.”

“Shit.”

“Since then, they said, Wayne became paranoid or something, then he started to self-destruct, then he disappeared and a couple of years later he came back.”

“And no one knows where he went.”

Jack shook his head. “The reason why I didn’t want to tell you is because… if powerful people like the Waynes can be shot down just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “What chance do we have down here?”

He has a point.

~*~

It was wrong. I knew it, but I blame homesickness.

I couldn’t sleep thanks to jetlag, and I can’t exactly walk around the city at this time. The sound of the police cars was a dead giveaway to that. So, I decided to just smoke at the fire exit. Turns out my fire exit was connected to the other room where Jack and Heather bunked.

It started as an innocent time of smoking and drinking — he brought a can of shitty beer with him — then one thing led to another, he was kissing me and we were in my bed.

He wasn’t that good. The entire time I was just faking the sounds I made so it wasn’t awkward silence. There were times he hit a spot but it wasn’t as fulfilling as John would. I had to resort to playing with myself while he fucked me. 

When he came he pulled out, despite wearing a condom. Old habits, he said, while I was left with nothing. 

“You good?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” I went to put on my underwear and my shirt. “I… uh… thanks, I guess?”

He chuckled. “No problem.”

“But you do know that this won't happen again, right? I mean, I like –” Liar. “ — but it’ll just be complicated with us there in the place and you’re sharing a room with Heather.”

“Just a one-night thing, I’m cool with that,” he shrugged. “But if you ever want to again, you know where to find me.” He got up from my bed and left the room. 

Good job, Vivian. First night here and you already fucked your roommate and compared him to your ex-boyfriend who tried to kill  you. Get yourself together.

~*~

The semester started sooner than I had hoped, rather sooner than my jetlag hoped. But I was more than happy to start going to classes just to get away from that apartment. Jack and Heather were nice, they were good roommates, but it was awkward to be in the same place as two people who were — as Jack said — just fucking, and Jack constantly flirts whenever I hang out in the living room or his self-made invitations whenever I would step out.

His reason: he didn’t want to find his new roommate’s face on Gotham News tonight as one of the city’s latest victims. 

I got a job. It was at the diner I frequented since coming here, the owner welcomed part-timers more than full-time employees. My shifts there are graveyard hours, which was perfect since there was rarely anyone coming in and I get to study. But tips would be nice too. Most of the customers here are either GCPD grabbing a grub or those you’d not make eye-contact with.

After years of running around with Constantine going to shitty places, dealing with shitty and sinister people, you’ll learn to read people and other beings. And these have the face that says trouble.

“What cha readin’ there, sweetheart?” One of the men in the booth called out to me.

“Just a book,” I answered and went back to reading.

“Yeah?” He went out of the booth and approached the counter I was at. “What’s it about?”

Shit.

“It's Telling the Truth About History by Joyce Appleby, Lynn Hunt and Margaret Jacob. It’s Historical Methodology.”

“You wanna be a history teacher or somethin’?”

“In a way. Excuse me, I’ll just head inside to check if your orders are ready.” And to get the fuck away from you.

But the man grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. “Come on now, dollface. How about you read to us a little?”

“No.”

His companions laughed. “Look at that, she can’t stand to look at your ugly face!”

He scoffed. “Come on, you’re coming with us, dollface!”

“I said, no –”

“Let the girl go,” a deep voice with a Jamaican accent echoed in the diner. Vivian knew that voice.

Standing by the glass door, a slim man with a zig-zag beard, wearing a white suite and hat watched them with intense eyes. 

“You,” I didn’t even know I was talking until the man turned to him and nodded in greeting. “Papa Midnite.”

“So, you her papa, huh? Didn’t know, dollface here was that kind of girl. What? The book was just for show?” The man holding my wrist pulled me closer to him and pointed a gun at my face.

What the fuck?!

“If you do not let her go, all of you will die right on this floor,” said Papa Midnite.

“Is that right?” His companions got up and pointed their guns at Papa Midnite. “We were going to apologize for our friend’s behavior but now that you mentioned about bashing our heads in, we can’t let that slide.”

Midnite smirked. “I didn’t say I was going to bash your brains, I said, you are going to die.”

The air changed, and one moment the men with the guns were on their feet with their weapons, the next they were on the ground with blood coming out of their bodies. In fact there was a trail coming from that door where Midnite stood.

“What did you…” I asked.

“They died the way their earlier victims did. With holes on their chests. Call your manager from his break and tell him what happened. I will wait for you outside, Vivian Pryor,” Midnite bowed and left.

I did what she told me to do. I told my manager about the men and he called 911. She was suspicious about the coffee I served and the order slips in the queue, but she decided not to ask. She just went along with my story and told the cops the same thing. We were questioned by GCPD, mostly I got the questions. Luckily, the man asking the questions was a kind man and he was new to Gotham too.

Lieutenant Jim Gordon.

If it had been his partner, Glass, I was sure to have been dead the next day. The way he looked at me and those men, it was the kind that says he was on someone's payroll.

Lieutenant Gordon let me go after my story was cleared out, and my manager let me head home early too. As I took my path home, I saw Midnite again. He was waiting this entire time in the shadows.

“Vivian Pryor,” he greeted.

“Papa Midnite,” I said. 

He smiled. “You have grown. The last I saw you, Madeline carried you like a kitten.”

“I remember you too. You and her were… you were kind to us. Midnite, my Mom, she’s…”

“I know. I felt it,” Midnite placed a hand on his chest. “Madeline was a friend. The day she died, I felt her soul leave this realm.”

“I couldn’t find her.”

“And you shouldn’t have tried. You were just attracting the wrong kind of company.”

“Too late for that,” I laughed cynically. “Are we just going to talk here or are we going somewhere?”

“You have classes tomorrow. I’ll walk you home… We'll talk while we walk.”

“Thank you, Midnite.”

The walk was short but Midnite and I circled the block a couple of times to catch up. Not the safest thing to do but I was with a voodoo witch-doctor, so I was in safe hands. He mostly asked about Mom and what happened to us after our last encounter when I was a kid. Turns out he’s heard all of the things I did with John Constantinen. We’ve made a name for ourselves, as it turns out, in our circles.

“What brings you here in Gotham?” Midnite asked.

“I needed to get away.”

“From what?”

“Something happened…”

“Care to elaborate?”

“We took a job as a priest. Some towns were experiencing hallucinations that led to multiple homicides. Turns out it’s the signs of a demon trying to claw its way out of a body. Long story short, it was an exorcism gone wrong, and John thought it would be a good idea to trap the demon inside me and kill us both, because the little shit fancied me.”

“What did you do?”

“I burned everything. The whole block, I was just lucky that no one was living there but the two girls died. John lived, Chas is fine, Ritchie got this demon-infused cancer. And I… I can’t sleep. Well, that and jet lag.”

“And your solution is to move to a city like this?” Midnite laughed.

“It’s the last place where magic would be… or so I thought.”

“Gotham has dark secrets, Vivian. Everything you see now is just smoke and mirrors to the truth below. The owls like to keep watch on things.”

“What?” I laughed. “What’s with the owls?”

“We’re here,” Midnite stopped before my apartment building. “If you are in need of help, call me,” he handed a black calling card to me.

It wasn’t exactly a number. It was simply his name. “Thank you, Papa Midni–”

He was gone as if he was never there in the first place.

~*~

He first appeared on the news with the headline of a giant bat vigilante. Jack and Heather scoffed when we saw it, I simply brushed it off. Then he became a recurring thing on the news as Batman — the GCPD started calling him — were taking out criminals left and right. 

Personally, I was rooting for the guy. After getting mugged that one time while heading home from campus and the police doing shit, I’d feel a lot safer if Batman was around. But why a bat costume, though? Wouldn’t it be easier if he jost ran around with some bullet-proof vest in tactical gear than spandex and a cape?

The police have been trying to capture him. The unfortunate person to get the job was Lieutenant Gordon. What the hell did he do to get on the Commissioner’s bad side?

Months since this Batman started his crime fighting, the streets were a little safer to walk around, still it would be foolish to do so. But police sirens were not so frequent now in the streets, if there was it’ll be in those areas where Batman wouldn’t be or they were trying to capture the vigilante. 

Then there was this one incident that really shook Gotham. The GCPD were able to surround the man, trapping him in a building. We felt it all the way from where we were. The heat, the rumbling of the explosion. GCPD dropped explosives onto those, supposedly, empty buildings just to take out the vigilante.

All of that just for one man, and still Batman got away.

I was reading the newspaper about it during my visit to the Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic at Park Row  to ask about my scholarship, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and dump the paper in the bin as soon as I finished reading the article. I should be reading the material our professor told us to go through Alexander to Actium: The Historical Evolution of the Hellenistic Age. 

“That’s an odd thing to read,” a voice of a man interrupted me before I could finish the second paragraph.

Holy shit! 

“You’re Bruce Wayne,” said. “What are you doing here?”

He raised a brow at me and pointed at the plaque that says Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic and below it was The Wayne Foundation.

Right. Stupid question, but he’s kind of an ass.

“What’s that about?” He asked.

“It explores the political, cultural, and social transformations of the Hellenistic period, from its development from the conquests of Alexander the Great to the rise of Roman dominance at the Battle of Actium,” I explained.

“A wide reader?”

“Reading material for class.”

“Didn’t know they taught that in Gotham Metro.”

“GU.”

“Gotham University, and you’re in this clinic because…”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Vivian Pryor!” The nurse called for me. 

Getting up, I gathered my things and went to the hall where Dr. Leslie was, “Excuse me, Mr. Wayne… ass.” I muttered the last part.

So what I’m a student of GU? Not everyone there is rich like him.

~*~

It was a false positive. 

Good.

~*~

I never thought I’d ever come across Batman. It was one thing to read about him or see him  on the news, it’s another to be the person he was helping. It was stupid of me, really. It was right after my shift, but instead of heading home, I thought of visiting Midnite’s club. I should have just taken a cab than walk, but cab fares were expensive.

I can’t even remember why I needed to go there, not after being held at knifepoint. He came out of nowhere with a knife to my neck and dragged me to the alleyway. His friend, who has been waiting there, held me back while he went through my bag. He threw my books and my notes to the ground and pocketed my wallet and walkman. 

Fuck! Not again.

Why did I need to see Midnite again?

Why did I need to go to his club?

What was it about?

The next thing I knew, his companion grabbed me by my shoulder and pinned me to the wall. He forcibly kicked my legs to spread and I could hear his belt —

“NO! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!” I cried out.

“SHUT UP, BITCH!” He hit me at the head with his gun.

Fuck that hurt and it made me go dizzy. 

I haven’t used my magic in months now — almost a year — I don’t even if I can cast a spell. But with the best I could, voice slurring, I tried to cast an incantation just like Midnite: “D-die–”

The man was removed from me. The next thing I saw was a shadow beating them down to the ground. It was the Batman. He was huge and he was beating down them down like they were nothing. But he wasn’t invincible nor was he perfect in his form. 

“Look out!”

“AUGH!” Batman hissed as one of the men stabbed him at the thigh over and over, making him fall, and the man took this chance to beat the Batman with his companion. 

Forcing myself to my feet, I grabbed one of the metal pipes lying around and whacked the two across the heads. The fell to the ground and silence came to the alleyway. 

Shit, did I just kill them?

“They’re alive. Concussed but alive,” Batman said. “GCPD will be here shortly… I need to…”

“You need to run,” I said.

He nodded. “Are you okay?”

“I am now… but what about you? You need medical attention!”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be on the rooftop waiting for them until they get you. Hopefully, it’s Lieutenant Gordon who picks up this call.”

“You shouldn’t be moving too much,” I reached for my scarf and used it to wrap around his injury, making sure it was tight to stop the gushing blood. And against my better judgment, I whispered a spell to heal his injuries, it won’t heal fully but it will speed the process to stop the bleeding and prevent infection. He did save my life.

Batman only looked at the black scarf around his injured leg before moving again. But this time he went to the fallen men and took something from their pockets. He even collected my things, placed them in a bag, and handed them to me. 

“I’ll be on the roof to make sure you’re safe. Just stay put.”

I nodded. “Thank you. Thank you, Batman.”

He nodded again and launched his grappling hook and zipped up. The last I saw was his cape.

The GCPD arrived fifteen minutes later. Luckily, it was Jim Gordon. I told him that it was Batman who saved me and already left, heading down a random direction I pointed to. He had officers running down that path while he got me in his car so I could be brought to the station for questions and to be checked by their medic. As we drove away, I saw the silhouette of Batman on that roof. He left once Gordon made a turn down the block.

He really did wait until I was safe.

~*~

A year and a half in Gotham and now I’m flying to Rome, and all it took was a lot of sleepless nights and reading, studying, and moving out of that apartment to really pull myself together. Even my professors were surprised when I became eligible for the semester in Italy. While I do look forward to it, I’ll admit, I’ll miss hearing and reading about Batman on the news.

[xerith-42]

Minecraft Diaries Stoner Headcanons

Part 2 in the Aphverse Stoner Series!

Disclaimer: I haven't watched Season 3! I mean, I have, but I don't remember any of it other than that Blaze was in it-- And I just checked the wiki and he's a villain? Uhm. No, he isn't. Hatsune help me I'm going to have to make a whole post about that now... anyways, pretend Blaze is just like another guard Irena gathered because she just collects them like they're pokemon.

Blaze our beloved to start us off. Uh, pipe weed is really common in Ru'aun, it's actually a primary export. And well, Blaze is a pretty big fan of it. Once when he's smoking weed with his friend, he comes to a realization.

"Listen, listen. We use earth with the plant, fire by lighting it, and air to inhale it. What we're missing is water." I am saying that Blaze made the first bong in the MCD universe. Or that he at least came up with it and was credited for the original idea. These two are very proud of their idea and want to spread it everywhere.

Pipe weed is not allowed at the guard academy, and guards are expected to remain sober, even though alcohol is okay?? Doesn't really make sense to a lot of new cadets, including Laurance, who's able to smuggle it in, and hide it from Garroth.

Vylad does actually smoke pipe weed, particularly while on his own during those 15 years. It helps relax their muscles, and causes a sort of numbness that helps keep the calling quiet.

When he tells Laurance of this, both of them share it together at some point.

Dante used to smoke weed with Laurance on slow nights in Phoenix Drop, and even smoked it with Nicole a few times. He quit when he found out Nana was pregnant.

The number one smoker is Travis. His mom had a stock pile of it he found, enough to last years, and it's one of the main things he brings with him to Ru'aun.

When Travis and Blaze meet, they are instant friends. I don't know what happens in Season 3, but this is all that matters to me. They would be BESTIES!!

Despite being banned by the church, Zane is in a position of power so the rules don't apply to him. He never does it when he has something serious going on, but when Zane has some downtime, he'll light up a bowl to take the strain out of his shoulders.

A downside of being a Shadow Knight is that your lungs are much more used to inhaling smoke and dealing with heat thanks to the Nether, so they have some insane tolerance. Like, Vylad was smoking so much, and Laurance is never not frustrated at how much he has to go through in a single sitting just to feel something.

And Aaron? When he was a father? And a Lord?? Of course he was smoking. He was very careful about it, and kept it away from Jacob. And as he traveled with the rest of the cast, he was always careful to hide it from the kids. He didn't quite mind if anyone else saw, as long as they were smart enough not to ask for it.

Travis is not smart enough.

Also Aaron likes wearing the bandana when he accidentally gets a little too high so no one can see how bloodshot his eyes are. Irena can tell by the way he stumbles a little more than usual.

Zoey? Pot head. She's literally an immortal elf, she has tried every drug Ru'aun has ever had and then some. She stops smoking it as much when she's taking care of the kids, but after the group is gone for a few years and she spends more nights searching for a way to bring them back, she picks it back up to try and seem less stressed when people talk to her.

I feel like all Lords smoke just a little. Like, it's such a stressful job. You're constantly having to care for so many people, be a master of subjects you might not have studied, and who knows when one day you wake up to the news that you have to ready yourself for war. People need a way to relieve the stress.

Except Irena. She tried it once when she caught Aaron smoking and it tasted so bad and she did not enjoy the feeling at all. When she becomes friends with Blaze he tries to coax her into it, but she never caves, and he backs off.

LUCINDA on the other hand!! She's a witch! She's a bit of an herbalist! Does she know the perfect growing conditions for the plant of origin and how to cultivate it's harvest for maximum output?? You bet your ass she does!

Blaze x Lucinda x Travis polycule when?

The first time Lucinda and Blaze meet each other he tells her about his innovation of using glass devices to create water vapor that you can smoke, and Lucinda very eagerly drags him into her brewing room and just proudly goes "I have a cauldron!! >:)" And Blaze gets so excited!! He's already trying to figure out what he would have to custom order to work with this, but he needs to try it.

Wait why is that adorable I need to write that now.

[demiaroacefrieren]

People really need to be careful about what's to come after Tiktok was briefly banned from America. There is still a chance that Trump will ban Tiktok again, and there's a rumor going around that Tiktok will be sold to Meta. An inevitable Tiktok ban will cause many people and many business owners to lose income. And it doesn't help that many Americans like myself are having a difficult time looking for a time. I've literally applied to so many full-time jobs in the past and have been rejected and ignored by every single one of them. What doesn't help is there's also a homelessness crisis in many states due to the cost of living being expensive. In many states, renting a one bedroom or studio apartment is at least $1000 a month (or more depending on the city and area). The cost of groceries has become increasingly expensive over the years, and it will get worse pretty soon as Trump plans on imposing tariffs in certain countries, which will cause the cost of certain stuff to go up in price.

If Trump and Conservatives were concerned about user safety on the internet, then they should have banned Meta owned sites like Facebook and Instagram. But they will refuse to do so because many politicians who supported the Tiktok ban are Meta stockholders. They're willing to give Mark Zuckerberg a pass despite him getting in deep shit when the Facebook data breach happened. Plus, Zuckerberg is a white American cishet male billionaire, and the idea of punishing their own people would send Republicans into hysterics.

We need to take this seriously. Trump will probably want to ban Tiktok for good. Many Americans will be at risk of becoming poor and homeless. Tiktok has helped many content creators and small business owners make so much money on the app, especially disabled content creators, due to many American businesses refusing to hire disabled workers as having a disability is seen as a liability. A Tiktok ban is just an excuse to silence anyone who criticizes Trump and his allies, and any site that allows anyone to express themselves freely is seen as a threat. We need to be careful and continue to call out Trump and the American government.

[cfcurscdsouls]

☆ﾟ.*・ ◞ madelyn cline / female / caucasian / she/her ——— is that bexleigh mikaelson on bourbon street ? the 21 year old witch, wolf gene, vampire gene  who stays in the french quarter? i heard their biological parents are caroline forbes and klaus mikaelson. they are notoriously known for being determined and compassionate  but also rebellious and blunt. which is probably why they are considered the spitfire around town.  i wonder if they had their tarot cards reading, yet? either way, the cards on the table will reveal their fate soon enough // s, 28, she/her, est

🔍 Overview 🔎

Full Name: Bexleigh Willow Mikaelson Nickname(s): Bex, Bexy, Leigh Preferred Name: Bex Age: 21 Sexuality: Heterosexual Pronouns: She/Her Height:  5'6" Weight/Build: 135 lbs, toned, muscular Scars/Birthmarks/Distinguishing Markings: N/A

🗣️ Personality & Morals ⚖️

Are they…(bold which term applies to the character):

introvert / extrovert / ambivert

risk-taker / cautious

organized / disorganized

close-minded / open-minded

calm / anxious / restless

disagreeable / agreeable / in-between

patient / impatient

outspoken / reserved

leader / follower / flexible

empathetic / un-empathetic

optimistic / pessimistic / realistic

traditional / modern / in-between

hard-working / lazy

Moral alignment (chaotic good, lawful neutral, etc): Chaotic Neutral

Guilty Pleasure(s): TBD

👍 Strengths & Weaknesses 👎

Strengths/Skills (Mental/Physical): multilingual (English, Creole, French, Latin) piano and guitar (acoustic) ukelele spells photography painting and sketching Weaknesses (Mental/Physical): Sympathetic Sensitive but Guarded TBD Biggest Advantage: Self-Restraint Ability to perform silent spells Biggest Vulnerability: Her family Mental Ailments: Perfectionist, Minor OCD Physical Ailments: N/A Addictions/Bad Habits: Whiskey Phobias: TBD

🏠 Lifestyle 🏠

Birthplace: New Orleans, LA Current Residence: New Orleans, LA Education: Studying Marine Biology Religion: N/A Philosophy/Outlook on Life: TBD Job: Works at Audubon Aquarium in the Maya Snorkel Adventure Exhibit Hobbies: Photography, Painting, Sketching, Studying Marine Life

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 Relationships 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

Status (Single/Dating…/Married to…): Single Family: Klaus Mikaelson (Father) Caroline Forbes (Mother) Lizzie Saltzman (Older Sister) Josie Saltzman (Older Sister) Hope Mikaelson (Older Sister) Nikolas Mikaelson (Older Brother) Henrik Mikaelson (Younger Brother) Friends: TBD Enemies: TBD Other notable relationships (If any): Literally every Mikaelson lol

📚 Backstory 📚

From a very young age Bexleigh has always expressed an interest in just about anything artsy that you could imagine and as she got older she leaned towards photography, painting, and piano mostly.

While her love for art was strong, Beleigh was always adamant that it was nothing but an outlet and joy in her life. Her real life has always been in the water and any chance she got she would find herself in a body of water somewhat be it a pool, lake, or the ocean. She had always been intrigued by the unknown and the creatures of the ocean that are rarely seen on a regular basis, envying the peace and freedom that they have.

She's just recently gotten out of a relationship after she discovered that her boyfriend had cheated on her. Between that and all of the fighting that had been going on between the pair, Bexleigh decided to call it off and has since closed herself off to the idea of love so good luck to anyone that finds themselves crushing on her cause changing her mind will not be easy.

Healthy mix of both her parents; like Caroline, she’s quick witted, self-aware, fiercely loyal, competitive, and can sometimes be aggressive and like Klaus, she’s confident, sarcastic, compassionate, sensitive, outspoken, adventurous, and really loves the arts (painting is her biggest pastime). She has always been a free-spirit, rebellious in nature and as such she was constantly getting herself in trouble as a kid, sneaking out and going to parties without her parents knowledge.

More to come as I plot.

[artisafeelingg]

AUTHENTICITY:

I always talk to people and get the “you’re so different than I imagined” talk. While I know this is meant to be a compliment, and hearing it gives me great solace in knowing that someone has finally uncovered the real Lucia without letting their judgements of who I am from my social media, etc. hinder that, I cannot help but feel slightly sad. What about all of the individuals that never see the real me? Or all of the people who allow an Instagram post or a passing glance to write my narrative of who I am as an individual? This blog post is dedicated to starting my journey of authenticity and sharing ME on social media. From a young age I’ve been passionate about writing. In my eyes, the beauty of the written word surpasses all other forms of communication. Writing was my first love, and we had a tumultuous affair from writing articles for The Indianapolis Star to publishing my poetry in an anthology on Amazon and other international print magazines. Like all first loves, I put a tremendous amount of pressure on my love for writing and considered even making it my major. Eventually, we went our separate ways but my passion and knack for it has never ceased to exist, even many years later. I’m writing this first post as a toast to authenticity, and to using my social media to express who Lucia Ponader really is. She rather sentimental (queue the weekly cry sesh!) She is an avid lover of words and will constantly use large words which shocks people (girls can be hot and smart too. It’s called elevated diction. Godspeed on your journey of literacy). She is messy, passionate, unorganized (just ask her friends) and a whirlwind of emotion and intensity. She is a lover of ALL Asian cuisine and with absolutely zero apprehension would eat any form of Asian cuisine every day for the rest of her life. She is a self proclaimed dumpling connesuir. She absolutely cannot function without her trusted Aquaphor. She MUST sleep with multiple fans blasting on full speed directly onto her face (to the average overnight guest one would believe that they were at sea on a particularly windy day trying to fall asleep in her room). She might quite possibly be a hoarder because of her emotional attachment to literally anything. She enjoys sunshine beaming down, with a kombucha in tow and her favorite book. Or watercoloring outdoors with a great friend. She lived in Italy for 8 months and LOVES to travel. She conquered Hawaii next. Her absolute favorite movie of all time is the Great Gatsby directed by Baz Luhrmann, one of her favorite directors of all time. She hates driving, those sporadic “can I talk to you” texts, and picky eaters. She aspires to be a food critic, travel to every country in the world, and make her own Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations (P.S. Anthony Bourdain is my answer to the who would you have dinner with dead or alive question). She hates small talk and would rather engage in an enthralling discussion about something more abstract. Her favorite question to argue: do you believe in the idea of truth as it is literally defined? (in my opinion the correct answer is no, truth is merely a construct that is completely subjective and therefore is inherently unable to exist according to the definition of “truth”). She is creative and thinks outside the box; rules do not apply to her. She is an internationally published poet. She once ghostwrote music for her SoundCloud rapping ex. Favorite artist? Monet or musically it would have to be Cigarettes After Sex. She has been coined the “jester” of her friend group, as it’s her job to entertain and make people laugh. She does not believe that love is enough or that it exists for her (absolutely feel free to prove me wrong at any point). She loves a good laugh. She has flaws too, like all of us, but perhaps we will dive into those in another post. She exists differently in every single persons mind, but it’s time she takes control of that narrative, just a little. Here’s my take on authenticity, perfectly imperfect. Stop taking Instagram so seriously.

[thestobingirlie]

So I also headcanon that Steve chose not to go to college. In s2 at the beginning he was already not sure about it, saying he would like stay back for Nancy because she's a year younger and he could just start working at his dad's business. After the breakup he got a severe concussion, which made it hard to keep up with his sports. Plus with Billy being there and him taking over, essentially, he just didn't care enough. I also think his connection with Dustin played into him staying back, he definitely views him as his brother and similar to Jonathan he's also protective of the people he loves, so I think he just wants to keep an eye out for Dustin and partially Max (after the Billy fight in my universe he offered her to come over when Billy was being the worst to her). Also after the breakup he went into a sorta crisis, literally everything around him came crumbling down. Nancy was the only normalcy he clung on, he changed his ways partially for her and lost his friends. I think he just doesn't know what he wants to do rn so he stayed back. Wish we could have gotten this instead of hey Steve is so dumb and such loser let's make every single character he considers important fun of him.

i honestly think that after s2 steve kinda just fell into this weird pit of like… idk, hopelessness? he has no close friends anymore because he dumped them for nancy, and sure he probably has people he’s friends with, but no close friends. nancy calls him bullshit and they breakup. he’s gets beaten so badly he’s unconscious for at least 20 minutes, which means brain damage. he likely had to drop basketball. and he never managed to send off for early application!

like, the poor boy has it rough. i think by the time he needs to send off an application, he just can’t be bothered to, like what’s the point now? he already thinks he won’t get in, and he’s got a job with his dad after school (or so he thinks). and now he’s got dustin to think about (and in my version of stranger things he also has max. and to a lesser extent lucas. lucas has a good family life, so he’s not quite as involved, but he defo still wants to keep him safe). i definitely think helping dustin out and driving him around helped give steve a bit of purpose, made him want to stick around. and if the upside down ever popped it’s head back around, he’d want to be there to keep everyone safe!!

so yeah. i totally think he just never ended up applying. and i will continue to believe that despite all the dumb jokes the duffers shove in.

[lesbianslovebts]

starting to think about looking for a new job in the very near future and my biggest fear rn is just. being in a new workplace, new people who have been there for so long already, just integrating myself into the place. leaving where I am now. and it's proper holding me back from even starting the job hunt. I know u recently got a new job if I'm not mistaken? did you have any worries like this or anything like that? advice maybe? 😭

Yes, I started a new job a month ago! Big huge response under the cut!

There were several factors that went into the decision. First, I hated my old job. It was a call center, and every single millisecond was monitored. I literally had to time my shits. They kept changing the metrics by which they measured our performance (making it harder to do "well" when, by old standards, I was doing "excellent"). They never approved same-day PTO. Each unapproved absence was a mark on your record that got you one step closer to being fired. An unapproved absence, even excused by a doctor's note, was still a mark on your record. I don't even know how that can be legal. They kept firing hardworking, established people and replacing them with new people overseas to take advantage of even worse labor laws and exchange rates. 🙃

The thing is, even though I'm autistic and have phone anxiety, I genuinely enjoyed helping people who've been victims of fraud. I was good at it, too. I was there for almost 5 years, but I knew I was considered expendable. Their policies were blatantly ableist, and I just couldn't take it anymore. Second, I wanted a job where I could go into the office. The old one changed to permanent work from home, and I kept having severe depression from being so isolated. Third, I wanted a job that would use my talents. I mean, I was good at taking phone calls, but I double-majored in math and Japanese, graduated summa cum laude, and was inducted in Phi Beta Kappa lol. And lastly, I wanted a job with opportunity for growth. (A career? 🤢)

So, the desire to get a new job started a couple years ago. But first, I had to buy my own car. I did that in February. Then the whole process of finding a new job began in April. I was in an intensive outpatient therapy program for 6 weeks. I filed a short-term disability claim and was out of work for that time. I worked on getting myself better, and got help from my peers, the therapists, the social workers, and my mom to brush up my resume and cover letter and start looking at jobs. I returned to work at the end of my disability claim with the hope that I wouldn't be there much longer.

I applied to a total of 3 different jobs, and it took several weeks to do one after the other. I would get too overwhelmed doing more than one at a time. I did the work myself, but my mom had to poke and prod me and be there as an emotional support. The first application was immediately rejected. I did a phone interview and an in-person interview for the second one and got rejected. Then my mom heard about a coworker from another department at her company retiring. They were having trouble finding a new person, so my mom told me to apply for that job. I had a phone interview and a videochat interview and got an offer after a week or so. It was a $9k bump in pay. 😳

Don't get me wrong, the change was incredibly stressful. I cried on my last day at the old job even though I had worked from home for the past 3 years and didn't have any strong relationships with my coworkers. I'm autistic, so change is extra difficult for me. And my shift went from 1 PM - 10 PM to 7:30 AM - 4 PM. That was rough. On top of that, I've developed chronic migraine (more than half of the days in a month) this year. I'm also immunocompromised and have IBS and sensory issues. So, I just have to work through the internalized shame of being disabled. I have a lot of work to do still. I had planned on telling my boss that I'm autistic the first day, but I still haven't mentioned it. It might be obvious based on the stuff I do and bring, though. I wear a mask and giant pink goggles. I bring earplugs, noise cancelling headphones, discreet stim toys, ibuprofen, rizatriptan, anti-nausea meds, Tums, Gas-X, Afrin, and hand sanitizer in my backpack. I've had a couple crying episodes worrying about the social aspect of talking to people and the job itself. But I know this will be a much better fit for me, and this is a company I could work at until I retire.

So, part of it was hard work, and the other part was luck that my mom also works at the company and heard about the position. In these times, I know 3 job applications is nothing, but it took all of my strength just to do those consecutively. My advice? Get an accountability buddy. Try to find someone who can help you break down the process into manageable chunks and make you do them at a reasonable pace, without judgment. Could be a friend, a parent, a sibling, a partner, an old teacher, whoever. As for the actual hunting on the Accursed Websites? You'll have to ask Google for help. That's what I did. 😭

P.S. (IMPORTANT!) With my experience in bank fraud, I've seen a lot of job scams. Take these tips to heart (if you're in America): 1.) Make sure the position on Indeed or wherever is ALSO on the official company website. If possible, apply on the official website. 2.) No company will ever give you a check to buy supplies for the job. A true company will order and ship the supplies to you. 3.) No company will ever prepay you for work you haven't done yet. 4.) No company will ever overpay you and ask you to send part of the money back via Zelle, CashApp, Venmo, PayPal, etc. 4.) No company will ever email you a check. 5.) If you're not familiar with checks and aren't sure if it's legit, call the bank listed on the check to see if it's legit or fraud. 6.) Any too-good-to-be-true work-from-home job is a 100% a scam. 7.) If you think only the elderly fall for scams like this, you're wrong. 18- to 25-year-olds are another big scam victim demographic, especially for scams involving checks or 3rd party payment processors (CashApp, Venmo, etc.). Banks can and will terminate your accounts if you accidentally commit bank fraud or money laundering. 😬

Best of luck!

[twothirdsgenius]

currently in the onboarding process for a job and single every day my parents are still like “have you applied here yet” and “have you called so and so yet to check on your application��� like they are just fully pretending like the job i accepted doesn’t exist? despite me telling them that i handed over some important docs for the background check for this job TODAY my mom was still like “you should reach out to [ ] he said that he’d interview you for a paraprofessional position”

and i just. i know it’s naive to except anything different from your parents after so many years but damn. i literally quit my job and did not leave the house for three months i was so fucking depressed, and now i’m getting back out there and trying to regain some sense of normalcy and again. a pipe dream but god it would just be nice if they were occasionally proud of me. or even just content.

[ur-local-cryptid-0]

Hey Lilly! What’re you up to, tonight? I hope you have nicer weather than the rainy mess over here!

I was thinking about you and your oc you mentioned you were working on! Do you think you could tell me more about them! I’d love to hear all about them and how Death’s Head Moths (my fav btw) feature in their aesthetic and story!

Heyy, sorry for the late answer! I was a bit busy and didn't have time to sit down and write this (^-^) The weather here is more of a freezing mess, commuting is pretty hard, and I had to climb a hill to get to my classes, I nearly slid back down 20 times xddd.

But on the topic, Alida is pretty much still in the works, I want things to be on point in her lore. But here are some basics I know already:

She is Hungarian (cause I want to represent my country a little lol) but she moves to England pretty early on in her young-adult years. Though she still keeps little quirks from her country.

She's a sin-eater "professionaly". A sin-eater is somebody who eats a ritual meal, or often a slice of bread straight off of a dead person's chest, to absolve them of their sins. She went through one of these rituals in her younger years, because of her family's circumstances (sin-eaters were usually poor people hired for funerals). Since then, she did these rituals as a sort of "side-gig" while being a maid, cause if she's already going to hell, let's make some money out of it...

Later on she regrets this choice. As she's getting older she becomes terrified of death and what comes after it. Nightmares and hallucinations plague her mind every single day. This lead her to shady operations and rituals to stop aging and essentually, dying. She stopped aging around 60, but has to redo these rituals time and time again to keep the effects. It's also her resiliance and stubbornness that helps her keep going.

Death's head hawkmoths kept appearing after her rituals. She is quite used to them, calls them her "winged puppies". They essentially became her little helpers and company in her lonely everyday life.

She catches word of the Hellsing Organization (don't know exactly when in the canon timeline) and decides to apply for a job, managing to convince Integra. She calls herself and the moths "the cleanup crew", her job is literally cleaning sins up after missions, and the phisical mess of bodies (she's a shady gal).

She uses a rope dart when it comes to fighting, she also does it performatively as a hobby. (Look it up it's very cool!)

Walter and her have a... complex relationship. This is a cunt4cunt relationship. These two put eachother in their place. Alida's antics make Walter want to climb on the wall sometimes. More about them soon!

This is all I got currently, but art will be made and an actual detailed post about her. I wrote this in a hurry but I hope you like it!