#cuz they have the most insane shit
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Fuck me Agent Croft is Anenome from baby’s first mecha? That insane bitch? Not only that she’s also master tigress, my beloved
#agent Croft#transformers#tfe#Earthspark#I need to watch eureka seven again#I love going thru VA’s series list#cuz they have the most insane shit#extra extra extra crazy ass villain in an anime#extra extra extra kickass lady I wanna marry even if she’d throw my disabled ass on the floor
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"Aaron, when you almost fell on the ice with the Stanley Cup—" "Oh, Jesus..." "It's s—o stupid..." "—I mean. Yo, and it would've been okay, man! Like, you know what? You'd be like, 'Oh! He's one of us!' you know? Did you catch yourself? Did you feel yourself slipping a little bit? I think it's kind-of heavy, right?" "My theory is: that I stepped on, like—one of those confettis, maybe? That fall from the sky. That's my theory. 'Cuz it was just a little slide then I turn and I was fine. Did you see Barky almost fell on the TV camera cord as well? Did you see that?" "Oh, shit." "Yeah, there's so much stuff on the ice..." "It was right after he took it from Gary [Bettman] and he put it up and he—Well, I mean he didn't fall. He didn't come anywhere close to falling 'cuz he's Jesus on the ice... on those edges he's incredible..."
The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)
nothing delights me more than ekky getting ribbed for being clumsy and instead of just taking it he has to drag sasha down with him XD like oh? i almost fell WELL DID YOU SEE BARKY—girl PIPE DOWN THIS IS ABOUT YOU BABY. BARKY AINT GOT NOTHIN TO DO WITH THIS.
every angle (x)(x) of the almost ekky spill is so funny man and i love to embarrass this man SO FOR THE FOLKS AT HOME ROLL THE CLIP
i think its soooo funny when he says my theory is the confetti sabotaged me 🤓👌 because if you look at the footage
GIRL WHERE. just admit your ankle got weirdly bendy and screeched in after a hard game it happens to the best of us man
also him throwing sasha under the bus especially because i was like huh? sasha almost tripped over a cord? i definitely wouldve noticed that TRUST ME so i looked at the footage to see what he was talking about....
"did you see barky almost fell on the tv camera cord?" (x)
"did you see that?" yeah. did you. did you see the way he didnt not even move at all when he went past it yeah YEAH (x)
me when i lie and want an excuse to not be the only guy thrown under the bus so i bring up a completely nonconsequential annecdote so i can change the narrative of being the only clumsy guy on the ice despite the fact i very much am, and other such things
"hes jesus on the ice" and other normal things to say about your captain while you smile sweetly and reminisce upon him and his amazing skating abilities
#aaron ekblad#aleksander barkov#florida panthers#i love confronting ekky with his most embarrassing moments#and i think being one of the only guys to almost eat shit with the cup is SO EMBARRASSING#but baby couldnt handle being the only guy to get teased about it he has to involve sasha LMAOOOO#but also him quickly admitting sasha didnt fall at all too#FOLDED SO QUICK HUH#COULDNT EVEN STICK TO YOUR GUNS WHEN YOU THOUGHT ABOUT IT FOR A SECOND LONGER HUH#the lady doth protests too much#its okay he redeems himself by complimenting sasha in such a fashion i just stared at my kitchen tiles for a good minute there#“he didnt come anywhere close to falling cuz hes jesus on the ice... on those edges hes incredible...” is a quote and a half for sure#hey man do you like need a few minutes alone or sumn?#bud you can go take care of that#(insert the tails get trolled meme)#everyday im subjected to the utter insanity that comes out of ekkys mouth and i have to continue living my life like nothing happened#may god help us all#feeling very normal about your captain#sasha love clubs standing chairman
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haha oh no im definitely not at all disturbed by the prevalence of leftists on all platforms who are loudly 'anti-genocide' when it comes to the palestinian cause (and a couple others at best :3c) yet the only time ukraine [ʊkrɐˈjinɐ] leaves their mouths is in critique, in stark comparison to the former or in complaint about their (american) government sending aid.
at first what i saw often was pointing out the differences in western media framing [ukraine vs palestine], and that's fair (until the words and the agenda of western journalists are used to paint, as a whole, ukrainians who have been actively going through genocide as some kind of white supremacists hogging the blanket of global attention when they kinda just want to live and have the rights to their own land, culture, names and families)
but no one is even caring to do that anymore, today bitches just invent metaphorical scenarios and people to get mad at and to throw an entire ethnos away because wahhhh i decided that you care for X but not for Y!!!.... all while doing the exact thing they are condemning. the exact absolute same and they don't even hide it but do lack the self-awareness to realise
#'ohh i saw white people still go out to rally for ukraine' yeah have you considered they are ukrainian or have ukrainian loved ones or uh#simply have humanity in their heart to care about several humanitarian tragedies in the world?#this is both aimed at a post i saw on here and at SEVERAL. MANY. twitterians with a thousand palestine flags all over their accounts spewing#misinformation hate and sometimes straight up russian propaganda tactics because they're this fucking insane#i don't care about sounding nice anymore by the way. i know my heart lies in the right place and i have the capacity to care about more than#one ongoing genocide of indigenous peoples#removed incidents of bad actors having a ukrainian flag on their backpack doing hateful shit does not somehow okay dismissing a genocide you#so vehemently claim to oppose. they are not ukrainians who are getting bombed on the daily for years#i saw a very lovely 🍉🕊️ lady denying holodomor and using literal russian talking points while patting herself on the back for being such#a good person. i saw one of the most popular leftie accs on twitter be actively anti-ukraine and using slurs. luckily we mass reported them#and they're gone#i'm no longer being careful with my words because i don't want to be misconstrued. i know my values go beyond twitter and tumblr#if i catch you in any way undermining the genocide of ukrainians or only bringing it up to point fingers and bitch i am blocking you forever#don't care how far this post might go cuz of ppls questionable use of the search function. and i didn't care to censor anything#like. masks off. just block me if this is your rhetoric
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Adult Dave that I've also forgot to post ages ago, but I'm doing it now. It's kind of a shame, bc I have 5/6 of the DaveJade fam, but my Jade is sadly still in sketch form. Similarly to Feferi, he also has some color-coding of his quadrants - Jade is the most obvious, but his shoelaces are teal and cerulean, bc I kinda vibed with pale Daverezi and pale Davevris, so I figured out why not both, and I ended up liking it a lot. He's wearing this camera just for the aesthetics, he holds his actual, proffesional one in his sylladex. He's an archeologist in the same team with Aradia, and they internally lose it every time the artifact is something they left behind for kicks. Also he totally chets at cooking with his time powers.
#homestuck#hs: pfh#dave strider#davejade#pale!davevrisrezi#i have some neat pale!daverezi convo for the future#but i was also thinking that dave and vriska could relate to each other a lot except dave didn't choose tormenting and killing people lol#but since i imagine vriska going through one hell of a character arc dave ends up giving her a chance#tho it's mainly because of john/june#anyway love the idea of them reaching a comfortable level and training together on the meteor while using their powers#except in opposite to dave's memories of bro these are actually fun#they're both unlearning some shit along the way#they prolly switch and spare with terezi too ofc but my most images have her vibing and watching them and laughing at them#small rip to feferi cuz i drew her before i've decided on her other quadrants (i was being conflicted about a few besides red solfef)#so i'll prolly edit her one day#also small shoutout to me for figuring out that wow having references actually makes it easier to draw#insane
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in case anyone wants to know how fucked the legal system is here in canada, 3 teenagers came into my work today and beat the absolute shit out of a random guy because he “looked at them wrong” like literally had him on the floor and were kicking him in the ribs and head REPEATEDLY. cops were called (as much as i dislike cops, it was necessary bc wtf are we supposed to do as random minimum wage retail employees lmao???) and these teens were charged with NOTHING, after leaving this guy bloody and unconscious and his face was so swollen it was hardly even a face anymore. they punched one of my coworkers who tried to stop them too and a bunch of products were damaged as well from them throwing the guy into shelves. and they were smirking and laughing to each other as they walked out with no fucking charges because they were underage. like i’m sorry and i DO TRULY HATE cops and i hate the prison system and but HOW can you just let this happen?? no consequences?? at all??? NONE???????? they COULD HAVE KILLED HIM and literally nothing is being done because they were under 18. like. they’re just gonna do it again. and some girls that were shopping were like “they go to our school, they beat people up like that all the time and no one ever does anything” like what the FUCK!!!! where are your PARENTS😭 why is nothing being done about this!!!! i don’t understand!!! like wtf are we supposed to do, just let teenagers literally assault people?? i guess so! 😭😭😭😭😭
it was so bad that multiple customers were CRYING???? or so scared we had to literally HIDE THEM AWAY from the teenagers
#and it genuinely was random. like the guy was just picking up a prescription#and these teenagers flipped the fuck out out of nowhere#it was fucking insane i’ve never seen anything like it#and i got really scared but stupid and i was shouting at them to get the fuck out#and then security said they had to walk me to my car ‘just in case’ HUH???????#WHY ARE THEY JUST BEING ALLOWED TO WALK FREE#LIKE WHAT#insane shit happens at my work all the time cuz i live in like one of the most dangerous cities in canada lmao#but i have never seen anything like this. just literal senseless violence#like i HEARD the guy pleading them to stop and then he just suddenly. was not pleading anymore bc he WAS NOT CONSCIOUS ANYMORE.#there was BLOOD. ON. THE. FLOOR.#watching the camera footage w the cops made me sick#bc like they were fucking beating the absolute shit out of him#like yall remember how bad steve looked after billy got him ? well obviously that was makeup#but i need yall to imagine something like that and then multiply it by 10.
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Yooooo you worked at Michaels too?
(Ex-Framing department employee here)
YEA LETS GO EX-FRAMING DEPARTMENT they never even got around to teaching me production it was all wrapping and taking orders :/ Idk how it is at other shops but we only had 3 people working the whole frame shop. One person did ALL the frame assembly and us other two handled everything else. Was absolutely not worth $11/hr. man fuck retail. FUCK Design Hub too, if I may
#id come in for my like 4 hour shift and would have to run + close shop which included wrapping#wrapping storing calling for all orders done plus get all yhe frames lined plus unpack and clean up all the new frames coming in all by#all by the end of the night PLUS frame shop had to clean the bathrooms every night#plus actually running the front desk and taking orders and sometimes ppl would take hours picking matts that would cut into the time i had#to have everything else finished PLUS if i for some reason had everything done on time theyd make me run sales floor too#it was insane all the stuff they had me learn for such shit pay like. and#never work michales but never do it around the holidays more important#you will never escape the glitter#all that and my framing manager never got around to teaching me how to assemble a frame.#at least it was nice to hide in the frame shop so i wasnt talking to customers 24/7 but still#customers treat you so horribly like i was sweeping once and this lady comes up to me like saying the bathroom was disgusting right#and i get it. it was always disgusting. but we did clean it every night. anyway its hard when you cant just tell people that 1.#1 we clean them every night so if theres a huge mess in it most likely it was another shopper who pissed on the floor just cuz.#and 2 they only give us a mop and some pine sol to clean the whole 2 bathrooms every night. dont blame me blame michals lol#everything else was just so stupid#i wanna know how many framing department ppl everyone else had because we had 2 part time and 1 full time and i was only there a few months
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I know I'm the only person who still cares about this but I'm gonna say my "I think I turned my childhood friend into a girl" opinions cuz I've seen enough bad takes.
To preface this: I've read a lot of otokonoko Mangas and queer Mangas are beloved to me. I had been reading this manga since way before it was picked up by sevenseas and I really disappointed when the translation came out.
In case ur seeing this and have no idea what I'm talking about "I think I turned my childhood friend into a girl" is about mido who is a guy who likes cosmetics who one day tries them on his gloomy friend hiura and it makes hiura insanely cute, hiura who has a crush on mido starts wearing makeup and dressing femininely to impress mido finds out he's more comfortable in feminine clothing and gains confidence"
Said controversy was when sevenseas printed the manga with overt trans language that was no present in the original and were pressured into eventually retranslating the first volume to be closer to the original
Now that everything is laid out let's go over 2 facts.
number 1: the author (azusa banjo) during the controversy explicitly stated that was not their intention. This is self explanatory if the author said u did something wrong then u did something wrong, it's their authority those are THEIR characters and THEIR story.
Number 2: the trans edits made make no sense on context of the story. Only volume one was printed and the edits made were pretty minor stuff like using she/her pronouns, and referring to hiura as a girl. Remember, this is volume ONE. I own the original print and there's multiple pages where hiura says "I'm a boy" and then cuts to mido using she/her pronouns for him. Hiura hasn't even had time to have his trans revelation (which would be during the beach arc if u want to claim he has one). It literally makes no sense in story context.
Some crazy shit I've seen people say
"it's transphobic to say that hiura isn't trans" I'll admit I am not transgender. I consider myself not cis but not trans so my word isn't like law but We're talking about character interpretation. The dialog is ambiguous you can't say "it's transphobic to not interpret this character the same way I do"
"Sevenseas localized it" do you think that Japanese people just don't know what transgender people are????? There's a ton of good transgender studies if you look. I could make an argument that hiura was made less complex by erasing the otokonoko aspect of his character. A big part of otokonoko media is expression you don't want to perform masculinity but you aren't a girl, you're in the middle (go read senpai wa otokonoko it does this gender expression so beautifully but even the silly ones have hints of this). Things aren't black and white it's not cis or trans.
"It would have been this way if Japan hadn't censored it" adding on to my earlier statement like I said there's tons of transgender Mangas but also.... censorship from who? It's own author?? We see more infantilization of Japan that the west loves to do where they don't know about LGBT issues. It's own author said that it was not their intention for hiura you have to listen to the author
If u want hiura to be trans? Fine thats your interpretation. I had thoughts of that too when I originally read the manga. But you have to understand the difference between interpretation and the actual text.
#Anywayyy that was a really long rant#I've had this in me since the original sevenseas print dropped#I went to the tumblr tag to see if ppl were talking about the most recent chapter and nope the top post is still about this shit#Hiura is so beautiful#I actually still own the original print and the revised edition they're both on my shelf together#With the rest of my otokonoko manga lmao#I feel like I'm not gonna get hate for this cuz no one even remembers this controversy but if I do I don't really care#I have to defend this manga I hold dear and it's otokonoko themes#Even if hiura comes out next chapter and says he's a girl the original print would still be wrong because it was the first fucking volume#I had more insane shit to complain about but I got tired#I think I turned my childhood friend into a girl#I turned my childhood friend into a girl
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The constant artist dilemma of wanting to draw some of the most Heinous Horny Unspeakably Hot stuffing kink art ever with your OCs of color you love so much but being Uncomfortably Aware that racial stereotypes revolving around Very Specific Foods exist and people Suck....
#look. all im saying is fried chicken is a fucking S tier food but i feel like i can nEVER BRING IT UP EVER#EVEN THOUGH IT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITE FOODS TOO CUZ RACIST PEOPLE RUIN EVERYTHING EVER ALWAYS#i have had the most Insane interactions with people EVER online simply because I drew a black character existing with an Afro 😭#(average Steven Uni//verse fandom experience)#so if either 1) weirdos get too comfortable saying some REALLY racially loded shit as 'jokes'#or 2) people assume im drawing this in bad faith and stereotyping instead of lowkey spaaking from firsthand personal experience#i will literally Explode#Noodle talks#negative#my compromise is the classic 'white person tastes really good black food for the first time'#gonna draw CJ's white ass inhaling a bucket of KFC and then I will be given flowers because everyone loves pretty blond white boys /hj#i don't mean that super cynically btw kshdksjdksdjjdd
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Just decided to do a lotr and hobbit marathon (extended edition) since I have today and tomorrow off and I know it will be fun but also :( I wish I had someone who would enjoy doing this with me cuz even if my roommate wasn’t working he wouldn’t be interested and neither would my other two friends who live nearby I want someone to have a lotr marathon who will actually enjoy it and talk about it with me as we watch them
#but!!!! I’m going to enjoy it regardless#idk one of my absolute favorite things ever is watching things I love with someone else who loves them/is enjoying it if it’s the first time#they’ve ever seen it#but I don’t get to do it very often cuz most of the people I’m friends with just don’t really enjoy the same things I do#even if they watch them with me (which I do very much love and appreciate) it just isn’t really the same#as someone who will go absolutely insane with you over it#like when my old roommate binge watched the entirety of doctor who with me and actually fully paid attention and discussed what was#happening with me? peak joy I love that shit#anyways gonna have a nice chill evening (and whole day tomorrow) if middle earth and working on this demon slayer fanfic#kaz rambles
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pls let this backpacker hostel I'm staying at in a couple weeks be nice so I can go to more gigs in [redacted] and not have to worry abt how to get home from them bc I can just stay there... 😭
#its only like 10 mins away from most of the venues/clubs etc i used to haunt when i lived there itd be sooooo convenient#last trains are only like 10:30 and most sets dont finish until after that. let alone walking to the station from there#and there ARE night coaches but theyre always solidly booked up months in advance#and hotels are INSANELY expensive. but this place is cheap n looks nice + lots of female solo travellers left rly +ve reviews so 🤞#its noisy until 2am apparently cuz they have a bar and live music until then. but that doesnt bother me bc ill be pumped from my gig#so i can just join whatever they have going on. or go straight to bed ill take earplugs lol#and if it sucks..... well its only a night nothing to lose#ahhh.. ive organised so much shit today ive been putting off for ages. v satisfying#im gonna change n get my shit ready for work tmr. and then maybe play half an hour of smth and go to bed early im so tired#and then work tomorrow sigh.....its alllll good tho i dont think im doing anything too complicated#but i am working half hour overtime every day for the next 3 weeks. sigh......#.diaries
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If I remember right, I think you wanted to draw with your phone.
Oh yeah! At this point, drawing is the only thing this phone is worth for. I can't even properly play the only game I play on it with its new lcd, I'm losing my mind christmas edition.
#arianswer#anon#proseka is the only game i play in this godforsaken phone and even that i cant play properly at all#the basis on how good its new lcd is basically ''can i full combo an expert mode song in proseka?''#the first lcd replacement it had was absolute shit. forget being able to full combo expert. i cant even play most hard mode#without dying. the moment a song lvl reached 17 is the moment i knew i aint survivin that at all#the second lcd replacement was so perfect it felt brand new that i cheered so happily. but it didnt last#cuz how. is it possible. my phone got grounded on the INSIDE.#and now here we are. with the third replacement. its like a combination of the 1st and 2nd. which is insane and impressive#i cant full combo a song in hard mode and expert. in fact. i have no chance at surviving a song in expert.#but i can. at the very least. survive a song in hard mode. even a lvl 19 song is doable. but at the same time#i fucking hate it.
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Honestly, my abuser saying Louis was just as bad as Lestat or basically implying they hate how people write Lestat off as more abusive than he is or that Louis was just as abusive was a red flag I should've put a lot more stock into.
#The guy was Empathizing with a capital E.#God hold me back cuz I LAUGH at them. Abuser all weh u..abused me..cuz...u called me stupid and annoying when I wouldn't let u leave me#after ur 30239929292th attempt#Youre abusive cuz...u made me feel so unloved when you kept trying to leave me! :'(((#LMAOAOOA yeah if thats abuse then slap my ass and call me sally cuz ill always try to leave you#You fuckin insane psychopath. constantly putting damn words in my mouth and telling ME what i ACTUALLY mean#you dont care about anything i have to say. you need to be the one slighted to justify why you feel so offended 24/7.#dude u wanna be a fucking victim so bad then fuckin be my guest u fuckin miserable sick sad sack of absolute dog shit#always calling me a liar and putting me on the podium to state my case infinite times till you hammered me into gaslighting myself#to support your interpretation. go to hell.#you are chronically miserable for a reason. and you will NEVER find reprieve in that. EVER. just as you deserve.#YOU made me start therapy because of the CONSTANT confusion and emotional trauma i endured with you.#YOU made me cry all the time at work.#YOU gave me chest pains and difficulty breathing. just seeing YOUR DAMN NAME on my phone gave me panic attacks#YOU did so much FUCKED UP SHIT to me and you NEVER ACCEPTED ANY REALITY BUT ME HURTING YOU ON PURPOSE#you literally tell me 24/7 i dont care about you and i would drop THOUSANDS of dollars on you#AND FUCKIN WATCH UR SHOWS 3 TIMES IN A ROW#AND CALL AND TEXT U EVERY NIGHT. SIT AND HELP YOU PREP FOR JOB INTERVIEWS.#I DREW UR DAMN OC SO OFTEN HE PRACTICALLY BECAME MY MOST DRAWN CHARACTER#I DID SO MUCH TO SHOW U I CARED. BE IT GIFTS. MONEY. BE IT TIME. BE IT HELPING IN#UR VTUBING CAREER U WANTED TO START.#BE IT SPENDING NIGHTS SOMETIMES TILL 6AM JUST MAKING SURE YOU'RE OKAY.#I JUST. DID. SO. FUCKING. MUCH. IT WAS NEVER ENOUGH FOR YOU. I HOPE YOU DIE. SUFFER. BURN IN HELL.#I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. I WILL NEVER STOP HATING YOU.#I GAVE YOU SO MUCH. I WAS HAPPY TO TOO. WHAT A FOOL I WAS. NOTHING I DID WAS EVER ENOUGH. YOU ALWAYS HAD TO FUCKIN COMPARE#OR GET JEALOUS WHEN I SPENT ONE SECOND WITH ANYONE ELSE#U NEEDED TO GRILL ME FOR EVERYTHING#ASK WHO I WAS WITH#NEEDED TO KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING JUST IN CASE IT WAS SOMEONE YOU DIDNT LIKE#UR FUCKIN ABSURD. UR INSANE. ROT IN HELL. FUCKIN GET TORN APART DOWN THERE. I HOPE YOU SUFFER. I WANT TO WATCH. I WILL LAUGH.
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as of today (april 7) the actual exchanged hungarian minimum wage is 683 eur. and i think while this is a good comparison chart to get a general idea of this, it's also vital to know that not all of these countries have their minimum wage set in eur, so that's not an accurate way to show this information. on april 1st, the hungarian minimum wage equaled 677 eur. even on january 1st, general exchange rates would result in 698 eur for the minimum gross for 2024. even with the best exchange rate (in favor of huf) in 2024 on january 5-6, it's 707 eur.
my point is, money ain't this universal, and when comparing things in different units, where exchange is not as set in stone as with, say, distances, there needs to be some footnotes about the units.
Minimum wages across the European Union as of April 1, 2024.
source This is about gross monthly minimum wages.
Also note about Greece and Portugal. Technically Greece has 830€ per month and Portugal 820€ per month. But because both of those countries have 14 payments per year instead of 12, the results on the map show the real gross minimum wages spread throughout twelve months.
by threafold
#this is probably true for most countries here that don't use eur#using eur to show this is... well. the inaccuracy is in that it doesn't tell you what exchange rate was used#also this is not to shit on the person posting this - this is from wikipedia#i am shitting on whoever put this information on wikipedia without precise citations#that said. jesus Christ#i always forget just how shit we got it over here and further east from us#also bulgaria w the 477... girls u okay???#but also. do note the insane difference between countries with eur and countries w their own currency#no wonder it's shit in leu and lev and koruna#slovakia im so sorry#cuz u do have the euro and ?? what the fuck#and to anyone thinking oh sure but the cost of living must be lower too#WRONG#egg prices are on par w egg prices in germany#we are having the kind of inflation in here that ppl would have beheaded kings for 500 years ago#*nvm it's just eastern europe but still#i mean w the remarkably low ass min wage#''why don't the young want to stay'' and it looks like this. bitch
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screaming into the void
#mine#screaming into the void time#i took my space#instantly way less panic but i feel like shit still even after sleeping it off#i think ill hurt them if i stay in the friendships#i did promise im not going anywhere#but maybe its just better not to get close#all my besties are closer to me than most ppl and still theyre not close lol#not even the one i knew for years#tip of the iceberg situation - they only see this tiny bit bc i let them#i was trying to let them in these past weeks#every time i try i go through insane panics#thats not normal#im always like haha im fine UNTIL i want to be close to someone#but it rlly wasnt that bad before#like it would happen sometimes but not this intense#i think it could have sth to do with my ex#i blocked him this morning cuz idgaf and i will talk abt him more#i dont even like him i dont think abt him its been over for long and even the friendship - that just made me mad and then i was fine#but the way he treated me left some very visible marks and by that i mean bro heightened my issues#what wasnt that bad is now downright awful#i didnt run away so obviously this much id just yk 'forget to reply for a day' and then its fine#and i wasnt that scared to take up space and simply exist. sure groups are always rlly hard to navigate for me#but not this much#bc my ex made me feel insane. repulsive. absolutely fucking worthless and boring#he isnt the only perpetrator of these thoughts like i was bullied at school and my family is in fact a dumpster fire#but i took a lot of steps back in healing#i care abt these ppl so damn much#the thought of not having them around makes me rlly sad#but i wouldnt be able to livr with myself if i continued being rlly triggered by them being good ppl every damn time
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velvet lies
pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 10.4k 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: eek series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter
i mean, im not that surprised he’s sexy as hell
that’s actually crazy
imagine hiding your son for five years 😶😶 how can you be ashamed of that
doesn’t he literally have a girlfriend?? himari nakamura??
↳ yep for almost two years now
↳ wonder how she’s holding up i’d be pissed, unless she knew
rich people are always shady as fuck
You don’t even know how many comments you’ve read. Staying up practically the entire night, busying yourself with the endless scrolling of people who have not a single clue of how your life actually is. Meddling in your business and acting like the shit they’re spouting on the internet is okay.
They ranged from positive (sort of) to extremely personal and negative.
i bet she just did it for the child support
i wonder if he’s actually the dad, women like that lie and lie just cuz the dad is rich as fuck
i feel so bad for that boy
Bad? Why would they feel bad for him? You’ve given everything you can and then some to ensure Koji’s safety and innocence. You’ve never put him in harm’s way, difficult situations, hit him, nothing. Of course you’ve raised your voice, but every parent does. Why are these reasons suddenly acting like they know a fucking thing or two? This is insane.
The only positive ones you see are praising your son for how cute he is, how much he looks like Satoru, and how he’ll probably get everything he wants. That’s not true, you’re not going to spoil your kid and you’re sure as hell not letting Satoru do it either; he’s humble, that’s how you want him to be. Still, you do feel uneasy at strangers on the internet for talking about your baby like this, in reference to a photo none of you knew was taken.
And you still don’t know who took it.
That’s what infuriates you the most. Because who in their right mind would do that? Who thinks they’re that fucking entitled to chime in on your personal business—your family.
When you find them, you swear on everything you’re punching them.
Your head hangs low, the hood of your sweatshirt pulled tight, shielding your face as you step into the café. You keep your gaze down, avoiding the eyes of the baristas and patrons scattered around. The familiar hum of the espresso machine feels deafening today.
Maybe no one will notice. Maybe no one cares.
But you know better.
That damn image, plastered across every TV screen and newsfeed yesterday, is still burned into your mind. Why do people even care this much? You’re beyond pissed off. Who in their right mind thinks they have the right to invade your personal life like that? To turn your family into fodder for the public?
Maybe no one will say anything. Who even watched the news anyway?
More people than you think, actually. You keep moving, but Hana has other plans.
“Y/N!” Her voice cuts through the noise like a whip, and before you can react, she grabs your forearm, dragging you into the storage room in the back.
“Hey, what the—” you start to protest, wincing as her grip tightens, but she doesn’t care. She whirls around to face you, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief.
“What the hell is going on?!” she demands, gesturing wildly with her hands. “You were on the news yesterday!”
Your stomach churns at the reminder, and your jaw clenches tightly. You pull your hood down, resigning yourself to the conversation you were hoping to avoid. “I know that already,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest.
“Koji’s father is multi-billionaire Satoru Gojo?!” Her voice rises in pitch, and she looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Is that for real? You’ve been hiding this?!”
You take a deep breath, counting to three in your head. “Yes, Hana. It’s real. Koji’s father is Satoru Gojo. Can we not do this right now?”
But Hana doesn’t back down, her wide eyes searching your face for answers. “Are you kidding me? Of course we’re doing this right now! You’ve been sitting on this—” she throws her hands up, “—while the rest of us thought you were just, like, a regular single mom? What the hell, Y/N?”
“Because it’s none of anyone’s business!” you hiss, your voice rising then lowering, not wanting anyone else to overhear. “Do you think I wanted this to come out? Do you think I wanted his world to invade mine?”
Hana softens slightly, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. “Okay, fair. But you should’ve told me, at least. I mean, I’m your friend.”
“I didn’t tell anyone for a reason and I don’t owe anyone anything,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “And now it’s everywhere. Do you know how terrifying that is? For me? For Koji?”
Hana sighs, leaning back against the wall. “Okay, okay. I get it. This whole thing’s a mess. But what are you going to do now? I mean, the story’s out. People are gonna talk, Y/N. A lot. Especially if it involves a man like him.”
You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling heavily on your shoulders. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly, your voice trembling. “I just want to protect my son.”
Hana nods, her expression softening further. “We’ll figure it out. But you’re gonna need a plan. And.”
“Hana, I—“ you’re really trying not to snap at her, really. But she’s pushing every button you have right now and your patience is running extremely low. Don’t snap, she’s just worried. “I know what to do, thank you. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t meddle in my business too. We’re friends, yes, but understand right now that I’m going through a lot of shit and don’t need to be told what to do and when to do it. So get off my back.”
Hana blinks, a little caught off guard by your sudden announcement. Her mouth slightly agape, clearly not having expected your outburst. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, her expression shifting between hurt and something close to understanding. She straightens, her arms falling from where they’d been crossed over her chest. “Y/N, I wasn’t trying to—” she begins, her voice softer now, but you cut her off.
“I know,” you say, your voice quieter but still firm. “I know you’re trying to help, Hana. And I’m grateful, I am. But right now, I need to handle this on my own. I need space. Can you give me that?”
She nods slowly, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay,” she says after a moment. “I get it. I’ll back off. Just—if you need anything, anything at all, I’m here. You know that, right?”
You exhale, some of the tension easing from your shoulders. “Yeah. I know.”
Hana offers you a small, tentative smile before stepping aside, giving you the room you so desperately need. As she moves to leave, she hesitates at the curtains, glancing back at you. “For what it’s worth, Y/N…I think you’re handling this a lot better than you think you are.”
You don’t respond, just nod in acknowledgment, and she disappears back into the front of the café. Alone in the small back room, you lean against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment to gather your thoughts.
Better than I think, huh? You shake your head, rubbing at your temples. It doesn’t feel that way.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said this probably won’t be that bad; not a big deal. But hell, it was huge. You hate unnecessary attention, especially attention from hundreds, if not thousands of random strangers. You’re recalling the incident from earlier when you dropped Koji off at school. Mr. Ito stopping you once more and confessing his surprise to you. In his words, “I didn’t know Koji had such an…esteemed father.”
You held back a slew of insults, keeping it classy, as always. But as the days go on and the more shit that seems to be happening to you, you’re getting this close to breaking that. It’s the way he, everyone else, and even Hana seems so…shocked. The lingering glances from other parents at drop-off, the whispers in the hallways. It’s the way their surprise feels so…palpable. You get it, in a way. Satoru Gojo is larger than life—powerful, wealthy, and untouchable in a way most people only dream of. But still, the shock in their eyes stings more than it should. Did they think you weren’t of caliber to bag a man like Satoru? Did they think a man like that wouldn’t even dream of having a child with a woman like you? It feels a tad bit insulting. Actually, scratch that—it feels like a slap in the face.
The implications gnaw at you, poking at insecurities you’d rather not acknowledge. This is exactly why you hate social media. You’re already growing too conscious of the comments people are making—caring too much and it was just revealed. And the worst part? You can’t even fully blame them. Satoru’s world is one you’ve never truly belonged to. You’re not the glossy, magazine-cover type, and you don’t have the pedigree or connections his circle would expect. But that doesn’t mean you’re less than, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean Koji is any less precious because of it.
You sigh, rubbing at your temples. If only these people could see you for who you truly are—if they could see the strength it takes to raise a child on your own, to hold your head high even when the world tries to tear you down. But no, all they see is the scandal and the drama, their curiosity morphing into judgment. Sure, you made mistakes—big and bad ones. But you’re doing all this in order to make up for those mistakes. And sure, Satoru doesn’t 100% forgive you—you’re not sure he ever will—but you don’t think he would agree with these kinds of comments being made. Right?
You huff. Let them talk, you think bitterly, though the tightness in your chest betrays the confidence you’re trying to muster. Let them all talk, they know nothing.
The minutes feel like hours. Unsure of how long you’ve exactly been here. Equally nervous about looking at your phone to check.
“Oh my god, look. It’s her.”
“Shhh! She’ll hear you.”
“I wonder if she’ll give us pointers.”
“You’re insane.”
The conversation doesn’t fly over your head. t’s like they want you to hear, voices loud enough to penetrate the usual clatter of the café. You swear, they’re practically aiming their words right at you. Your grip tightens around the rag in your hand, knuckles going white as you scrub the already spotless table. The motion is a little too aggressive, the poor table bearing the brunt of your simmering frustration. Your jaw clenches, brows knitting together as you try—desperately—to keep your temper in check. Jaw clenching and brows knitting together, you’re counting down to ten and back.
One…two…three… you recite in your head, attempting to steady your breath. It’s an old habit—one you learned a while back from you’re therapist, one you’ve relied on in situations like this, but today it feels like it’s barely working. Four…five…six.
You glance up, just for a second, and immediately regret it. The group of girls sits near the window, leaning into each other as they giggle, their eyes darting your way. They’re not even trying to hide it anymore. One of them, a blonde with an annoyingly perfect smile, nudges her friend and whispers something, sending the others into another fit of laughter. Your fingers flex around the rag, itching to throw it across the room. Breathe, you remind yourself. Just breathe. They’re not worth it. But it’s hard to ignore the knot tightening in your chest, the sting of humiliation creeping in despite your best efforts. Because you know exactly what they’re laughing about, what they’re whispering about. It’s not just idle curiosity—it’s judgment, plain and simple. And maybe, just maybe, if this were any other day, you’d let it roll off your back. But today? After everything that’s happened? After seeing your son’s face plastered on screens and hearing people dissect your life like it’s a soap opera? You toss the rag onto the table, standing up straighter as you look their way. They immediately quiet down, eyes widening like they’ve been caught red-handed.
“Can I help you?” you ask, voice calm but carrying just enough edge to make them squirm.
The blonde fidgets, her confidence faltering under your gaze. “Oh, um, no, we were just…”
“Enjoying your coffee?” you finish for her, forcing a tight smile. “Good. Let me know if you need anything else.” Without waiting for a response, you turn on your heel and walk behind the counter, the satisfaction of their stunned silence doing little to ease the weight in your chest. Nine…ten… You exhale slowly, trying to let it go, but the anger simmers just beneath the surface.
It’s going to be a long day.
��-
The walk back home with Koji feels like you never want to use your senses again. It feels like a marathon you never signed up for, every step heavier than the last. The pounding in your head has escalated into a full-blown migraine, the sharp pain clawing at the edges of your skull. You clench your teeth, trying to hold it together, willing the tears pricking at your eyes to stay put. Koji chatters beside you, his small hand in yours, his voice a muffled hum against the overwhelming throb in your head.
So much has changed within just the span of a week and none of it feels good. You like change, but not like this. Not the kind of change that’s so spontaneous and out of nowhere that it makes you dread the littlest things. The kind of change where you feel like every way you turn, it’s a dead end. Every thought spiraling into another reminder of how much you’ve lost control, or of how much you never had it to begin with. The kind of change that you never fucking asked for in the first place. The kind of change where you feel like a ticking timebomb. A simple walk home feels like an obstacle course. The sound of Koji’s innocent laughter, once a balm to your soul, now feels like a weight pressing down on you, a reminder of how fragile your balance is.
This change doesn’t come with warnings or instructions. It doesn’t let you adjust, and doesn’t give you the chance to prepare. It just dumps its baggage on your doorstep and forces you to deal with it, whether you’re ready or not. And right now, you’re not.
The last thing you want to do is blow up on someone who doesn’t deserve it, especially your son. You glance down at him, his bright eyes scanning the world around him with that endless curiosity only a child can have. His tiny fingers grip yours with a trust that makes your chest ache. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand the storm brewing inside you. And he shouldn’t have to.
“Mommy, are you okay?” Koji’s voice is soft, his head tilted as he looks up at you with concern.
You force a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” you manage, squeezing his hand gently. “Just tired.” He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and resumes his animated recount of the day’s events. You let him talk, his voice a small distraction from the noise in your head. One step at a time, you tell yourself. One breath at a time. For him, if not for yourself.
You wonder to yourself how many more times you can continue repeating that phrase to yourself, like a broken record spinning endlessly in your mind. Shouldn’t you be allowed to do some things on your own? Something that isn’t tied to the constant grind of making sure Koji has everything he needs, of shielding him from a world that feels more hostile every day? Everything you do is for him—every decision, every sacrifice, every moment of biting your tongue when you want to scream. It’s all for him.
But what about you?
The thought is bitter, curling in your chest like smoke. It feels selfish even to entertain it, but the exhaustion is suffocating. How long has it been since you’ve done something just because you wanted to? Since you’ve allowed yourself the luxury of thinking about what you need, instead of what everyone else expects of you? Is it selfish? Is this not how a good mother thinks?
The doubt gnaws at you, persistent and sharp.
Not like you’d know the answer to that question. Your mother—a woman you rarely ever want to think about—never gave you the guidance for situations like this. You have no inspiration, nothing. You’re doing everything free-handed. She didn’t leave you with blueprints for moments like these, no voice in your head to tell you what’s right, what’s wrong, or even what’s okay. She was a void, an absence, and that absence shaped you more than you’d like to admit.
And now here you are, trying to be everything for your son that she wasn’t for you. But it feels like you’re fumbling in the dark, building something fragile with trembling hands. There’s no instruction manual for this, no map to follow. You’re doing everything on the first try, improvising as you go. Every decision feels like a gamble. Did you do enough today? Did you do too much? Did you make the right call, or are you setting him up for something you can’t even see coming? The uncertainty is exhausting.
You glance at Koji, his small hand still tucked safely in yours, his voice cutting through the haze of your thoughts. He’s so blissfully unaware of the turmoil raging inside you, and that’s how it should be. He deserves that innocence, that security. But the weight of always being the strong one, the reliable one, is starting to crush you. How much longer can I keep this up? The question whispers in your mind, and you hate it. You hate that you’re even asking it, hate that it makes you feel weak. But the truth is, you’re tired.
And you don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending that you’re not.
You focus on Koji again, his small frame silhouetted against the afternoon light of the day. He trusts you implicitly, and looks at you like you’re the answer to everything. And the weight of that trust makes you want to cry and scream in equal measure. How can I possibly live up to that?
They never said motherhood was easy. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. Maybe this is what being a mother really is—second-guessing everything, carrying the weight of your own past, and still showing up every day, trying your best.
You don’t know if that’s enough. But it’s all you have.
It seems like you’re in for a surprise every second of the day.
Satoru, much to your own dismay and confusion, is perched against your apartment door; waiting for you again. Like a magnet, Koji runs into his lower half, hugging his father with all the strength his five-year-old body will allow.
“Hey, little man. I’m happy to see you.” Satoru smiles wholeheartedly, patting Koji’s back with gentle ease.
“Hi, Papa! I missed you.” His voice is muffled by Satoru’s clothing.
The older man laughs, relishing in the moment for another second, before opening his light azures. His eyes look like they’re darting all around you, as if making sure you’re okay. Standing up, he shuffles his hands in his pockets.
“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you mutter, walking up closer. Arms crossing.
He nods. “I know, I–I should’ve told you. But this was urgent and I knew you were busy at work.”
A hum is all you offer, unlocking your apartment door and stepping in. The semi-warmth envelops you like a worn blanket. Finally, in the comfort of my own home. Even if it is just for a little bit before you’re off again.
“Call off his babysitter.”
You look back, watching him close your door and lock it. “What? Why?”
“Because I’m here.”
Koji runs off to his room, presumably to play with his toy collection. Leaving the two adults alone. Biting your lip, attempting to come up with something to say—or what to say first. Luckily, he beats you to it. “I want you two to spend the night at mine, don’t go to work. I’ll pay you whatever you miss out on. I know you saw the leak and I’m working on figuring out who the hell did it. But until then, I’m a little concerned for your guys’ safety, so stay at mine until we figure things out long-term.”
You stare at him, caught off guard by the resolute earnestness in his voice. The Satoru you know isn’t usually this serious, this concerned. It’s disarming—attractive, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. “This is my home, Satoru,” you finally say, your voice quiet but firm. “I can’t just up and leave because of a leak. And I can’t run every time something like this happens. That’s not a long-term solution either.”
“I get that,” he says, stepping closer. “But this isn’t just about you. It’s about Koji. Someone took that photo, and I don’t know who, or how, or what their intentions are. Until I do, I can’t take chances.”
“And I get that, but I can’t just—sleep at your place.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s just…weird.”
“Fuck, Y/N,” he exhales out. “You think something’ll happen? It won’t. I'm doing this for Koji and you because I care. Not because reviving something that’s long-ended is my priority.”
“It’s not about that,” you snap, your voice rising before you catch yourself. You close your eyes for a second, exhaling sharply, trying to rein in your frustration. “It’s just... complicated, Satoru. You showing up like this, offering to fix things with money, with solutions I didn’t ask for, for problems I never wanted—it’s overwhelming.”
He takes another step closer, his presence filling the small entryway. “You think I don’t understand that?” His voice softens but carries an edge of urgency. “Y/N, I’m not trying to make this harder for you. I know this is all... messy. But I can’t sit around and pretend I’m okay with you and Koji being here while someone out there is bold enough to invade your privacy like that. I’m trying to protect you. You can’t keep pushing me away like this, you said you wanted to make things better.”
“I know, but—”
“Then stop it. Stop arguing, complaining, whatever. You’re not going to keep me out of Koji’s life any longer, or yours. They already posted another damn picture of you today at work.”
What? You blink your eyes, widening them. You don’t even want to see the photo evidence, gulping down the weird lump that forms in your throat. What the fuck is going on with my life right now? You hesitate, biting your lip. His words chip away at your defenses, but the walls you’ve built don’t crumble that easily. “And what happens if we go to your place? What’s next? You swoop in, play hero, and then leave us when this blows over?”
His jaw tightens, the faint hurt flashing in his eyes almost imperceptible. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it?” you counter, arms crossing tightly over your chest, a weak attempt to shield yourself from the weight of the conversation. “That’s what you always do, Satoru. You show up when it’s convenient for you, and when it’s not, you disappear.”
The words hang heavy in the air, stinging both of you. For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m not leaving you this time,” he says quietly, lifting his eyes back to yours. “Not until I know you two are safe. I’m not running, Y/N. Not from this. But you have to stop trying to keep me at arm's length, I’m trying my best to help.” His eyes lock onto yours, pleading yet determined. You hate how convincing he can be when he’s like this. How he makes you question your own resolve. “Please,” he adds, his voice dropping. “Just for a little while.”
The conviction in his voice is startling, and it makes something inside you waver. You’re tired, too tired to keep arguing, too tired to keep carrying everything on your shoulders. It’s true, you’re feeling yourself pushback on him. He deserves this—time with Koji, protecting him, and more. It’s just so hard breaking from the fragile bubble you built for your son and you. Satoru’s presence is like a sharp knife, waiting to just poke through it with ease, to get to his family.“Fine,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “But just for tonight. Koji and I will come to your place for tonight.”
Relief washes over his features, but he doesn’t smile. He nods, stepping back to give you space. “That’s all I’m asking.”
As you turn away to gather what you need for the night, you catch a glimpse of Koji peeking out from his room, his eyes wide with curiosity. You put on a smile for his sake, but deep down, you can’t shake the unease settling in your chest. This isn’t just about staying at Satoru’s place. It’s about what this means—what it could mean—and the part of you that still isn’t sure you’re ready to face it.
The inside of Satoru’s Mercedes is spacious, but asphyxiating. Koji in his car seat in the back, watching something on his tablet. This is the first time you’ve been in the car with Satoru since way long ago. It’s nostalgia, but sickening at the same time. You remember how he would place his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. Or how he likes to rest his hand on the gearstick, or his elbow on the middle console.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps when he brushes against your arm as he reaches for the temperature controls, adjusting the heat. It’s a small, thoughtless gesture, but it sends an involuntary jolt through you. You glance out the window, pretending to admire the blurred city lights instead of acknowledging the memories flooding back. The hum of the car engine fills the silence, an uncomfortable contrast to the weight of everything left unsaid. Koji giggles at something on his tablet in the backseat, his innocence a stark reminder of why you’re here and why you can’t let your emotions take over.
“You okay?” Satoru’s voice breaks the quiet, calm yet cautious.
“Fine,” you reply quickly, too quickly. You keep your eyes glued to the window, your arms crossed as if to shield yourself from the proximity.
He stops at a red light, leaning back in his sight. He’s a pro at side-eyeing you as you’re faced away. Seeing the way your hands ball into small fists. Nervous. Your foot is tapping on the floor. Thinking. And if he looks closer at your chest, he’ll notice how it’s rising up and down a little more quickly than normal.
Oh.
He clears his throat, looking forward as the light turns green. Focus on driving, focus on driving. He doesn’t push, but you can feel his gaze flickering toward you now and then, like he’s reading every shift in your posture, every flicker of hesitation. It’s infuriating how well he knows you, even now. You glance at Koji briefly before turning your gaze back to the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks as the car moves. The nostalgia you felt earlier morphs into a bitter taste in your mouth. You hate how easily Satoru slips into the role of a doting father, as if the years of his absence never happened.
You need to get a better hold of your jealousy.
“You’re quiet,” Satoru says, breaking the silence.
“Just tired,” you reply curtly, not bothering to look at him.
He hums, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. “Long day, huh?”
You roll your eyes. “You could say that.”
His gaze flicks to you briefly before returning to the road. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. But I’m glad you’re coming with me. It’s the right thing to do.”
You let out a dry laugh, finally turning to face him. “The right thing to do? Since when have you ever cared about the right thing, Satoru?”
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then he exhales deeply, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “I care now. Now that you’ve granted me that option,” he says quietly.
You want to scoff, to throw his words back at him, but there’s something in his tone that makes you pause. Something raw, unguarded. The way he gets out those snark remarks angers you, but only further solidifies the weight of your actions, and the fact that things will never be the same.
The rest of the drive is spent in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. When the car finally pulls into the underground garage of his penthouse building, Koji’s excitement is palpable.
“Wow! This place is huge!” Koji exclaims, his eyes wide as he looks around.
Satoru chuckles, stepping out of the car and opening the back door to unbuckle Koji. “Wait till you see the view, buddy.”
You follow them, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. As you step into the elevator, you can’t help but feel like you’re being pulled back into a world you thought you’d left behind—one of complications and heartbreak. Satoru presses the button for his floor, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just for one night.”
You don’t respond, staring straight ahead as the elevator begins its ascent. But deep down, you know it’s never just one night with Satoru.
“No running.”
“Sorry, Mama.”
You place Koji and your bags on one of the chairs in the kitchen, watching your son rush to his father’s living room. Satoru follows him, hands on his hips. “Hey buddy, bought some toys for you. Do you want to play with them? You like Spiderman, right?”
If possible, Koji’s eyes light up even more with excitement. Gasping and squealing, nodding his head furiously. “I love Spiderman! Mama threw me a Spiderman birthday last time.”
Satoru hums. “Wish I coulda seen that.”
You freeze at Satoru's words, your hand halfway to unpacking one of Koji’s bags. His tone is light, almost wistful, but it feels like a loaded statement—one that stings more than you’d like to admit. You glance over at him and Koji, your son practically bouncing on his toes as Satoru kneels to pull out a neatly wrapped box from a hidden cabinet. “Here you go,” Satoru says, handing it to Koji. “I think you’ll like what’s inside.”
Koji tears into the wrapping with glee, revealing a Spiderman action figure set. He gasps, clutching the box to his chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “Thank you, Papa! This is so cool!”
Your heart twists at how easily Koji has taken to calling him that. It’s like Satoru’s sudden presence is a gift he didn’t realize he’d been missing. And yet, for you, it’s a reminder of the years of absence—of the birthdays and milestones Satoru missed. “Please, don’t spoil him too much,” you mutter, finally unpacking Koji’s things and setting them on the counter.
Satoru looks over his shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s wrong with a little spoiling? He deserves it.”
You exhale sharply, not bothering to mask your irritation. “What he deserves is consistency.”
His smirk falters, standing back up to his full height and coming over to you. Keeping his voice level calm, in case Koji decides to listen in. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head.
Satoru narrows his eyes slightly, his expression unreadable as he watches you busy yourself with Koji’s things. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”
You let out a humorless laugh, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Don’t read into it.”
His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t push further—not yet. Instead, he leans against the counter, folding his arms as he observes you. “Y/N, you can’t be the angry one in this situation. I thought you understood that.”
“I’m not angry.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m just—” you let out a big breath, looking up at him once more. “I’m tired. Forgive me if I’m not overly happy right now.
Satoru’s gaze softens, his posture relaxing slightly, though the tension in the room lingers like a heavy fog. “I’m not trying to add onto that, I’m just trying to be here for my son.”
I know that. I don’t know why I’m snapping. All you can offer is a nod, reaching into your bag, and grabbing a change of clothes. “I…I’m gonna go shower, watch him please.”
Satoru nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before shifting to the living room where Koji is engrossed in his toys. “Of course. Take your time.”
You offer a small, tight-lipped smile before retreating down the hall, clutching the clothes in your hands like a lifeline. Once you’re inside the bathroom, the door clicks shut behind you, and the weight of everything crashes down. Leaning against the counter, you grip the edge tightly, your knuckles turning white as you take slow, measured breaths. The mirror reflects a version of yourself you hardly recognize—tired, frazzled, and barely holding it together. The faint hum of Koji’s laughter echoes down the hall, grounding you for a moment. At least he’s happy. That’s what matters.
The shower is a welcome escape. The hot water cascades over your skin, washing away the grime of the day and the lingering tension from your conversation with Satoru. You let your head fall forward, droplets sliding down your face, mingling with the tears you didn’t realize had started to fall. You didn’t mean to snap at him. He’s trying, you know that. But the past doesn’t let go so easily, and the overwhelming mix of emotions—anger, fear, hope—leaves you feeling unsteady. And you feel angry at yourself for letting your emotions slip through, getting the best of you. You’re surprised Satoru hasn’t been more outwardly rude to you, short, or even snappy. It seems like he’s taking this all better than you are, and once again, that bitter jealousy of yours is shining through. How he can just handle things so smoothly—at least that’s what it seems like. But he’s used to all this: the spotlight, public eye, attention. You just wish things could’ve been handled…differently.
Everything feels like a domino effect, starting all with that dreaded day at the grocery store. How so much has changed.
By the time you step out, you feel a fraction lighter, though the knot in your chest remains. You towel off, change into your clean clothes, and take a moment to steel yourself before heading back into the fray.
When you return to the living room, you find Satoru sitting cross-legged on the floor with Koji, holding up a miniature Spiderman figure. Koji is giggling, animatedly explaining an intricate story about how Spiderman saves the day. Satoru glances up as you walk in, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Hey. We’re just working on a top-secret mission over here. No big deal.”
Koji looks up too, beaming. “Mama! Papa’s playing Spiderman with me! He’s really good at the voices.”
You can’t help the small smile that forms, even as your heart aches a little at the sight. “Sounds like you two are having fun.”
Satoru nods, his expression soft. “We’re a good team.”
You stand there for a moment, watching them, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders once more. Maybe this is what Koji needs. Maybe this is what you need. But trusting him again…that’s the hardest part.
That night, eating dinner at Satoru’s long dining table, the same one where you faced his parents, it all feels strange, to say the least. The clinking of cutlery against porcelain plates echoes faintly in the vast dining room, filling the silence between the three of you. Koji hums to himself as he picks at his plate, occasionally glancing at his father to tell him some small details about his day or ask about the toys he’d gotten earlier. Satoru engages him with ease, his tone light and playful, but you can see the flickers of something deeper behind his smiles—guilt, maybe, or a desperate need to make up for lost time.
And then there’s you, sitting stiffly at the other end of the table, your appetite wavering as your mind keeps drifting back to the last time you sat here. That memory is sharp and vivid, like an old wound that hasn’t quite healed.
But Koji’s laughter brings you back down to Earth. Looking up from your plate of food to the sight before you. Father and son, son and father, family. They look so alike, you don’t think you can ever get over the blatant resemblance. Satoru’s genes are just very strong. You wish Koji could’ve inherited a few more things from you. You place a hand on your lower stomach, as if a physical touch will make the strange abundance of butterflies flying around in there to go away.
It’s strange, this setup. Domestic in a way you never thought you’d experience with him again. But it’s also…nice.
It feels whole, like this is how things should be. Would’ve been had you not held your tongue for so long. And you’re starting to think to yourself how much you like this sight. How it’s making you feel at home.
But this isn’t your home. However, you think you can pretend for just one night.
“You’re not eating much,” Satoru says, pulling you out of your thoughts. His voice is casual, but there’s an undertone of concern.
Your eyes widen at him, realizing you’ve been caught staring and quickly looking back down. “I’m fine,” you say, forcing a small smile. “Just sleepy, I guess.”
“I bet,” he says, and while his tone is conversational, his gaze lingers on you, searching for something beneath your calm facade.
“Yeah,” you reply shortly, stabbing at a piece of vegetable on your plate. You don’t want to talk about your day or your worries or the mounting anxiety sitting heavy in your chest. Not here, not now.
Koji interrupts before Satoru can press further, his voice bright and full of excitement. “Papa, can we watch a movie after dinner? Mama too!”
Satoru grins, lightly pinching his cheekbone. “Of course, buddy. What movie are we watching?”
Koji claps his hands together, listing off a couple of titles before settling on one of his favorites. You manage another smile, this one a little more genuine, as you watch the way Satoru effortlessly makes Koji light up. For a moment, the tension eases, and you let yourself focus on Koji’s joy. Maybe this is enough for now. Maybe that’s all you need to get through the evening.
But as you glance at Satoru across the table, his eyes catching yours for a brief second, you’re reminded of how fragile this truce feels. Of how much history lies between you, threatening to resurface at any moment.
Koji picks Spiderman, of course. You’ve watched this movie at least a hundred times now, maybe more. You can practically recite the lines perfectly. The movie plays on, the familiar dialogue flowing like background noise to your swirling thoughts. You’ve seen this scene so many times—the hero’s triumphant swing through the city, the bad guy’s dramatic monologue, the moments of comic relief Koji always laughs at—but tonight, it feels different. There’s an added layer of tension sitting heavy between you and Satoru.
The living room feels unusually cozy, the dimmed lighting casting a warm glow over the space. Koji wiggles in his spot, clutching a Spiderman plush as he stares at the screen with unblinking eyes, thoroughly engrossed. You, on the other hand, are trying not to let your exhaustion bubble over. Koji sits between you two, Satoru’s arm over his little shoulders. Satoru’s arm rests casually behind Koji, but every so often, as he adjusts his position, his fingers graze your shoulder—a light, fleeting touch that feels far too deliberate to be accidental. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, but he seems entirely focused on the movie, his face relaxed, a small smirk tugging at his lips during one of Koji’s excited reactions. So, you ignore it. But you do shift slightly, creating just enough distance to break the contact. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.
Koji laughs out loud at a particularly funny scene, leaning against Satoru’s side. “That’s so cool, Papa! I wanna do that someday!”
Satoru chuckles, ruffling Koji’s hair. “Maybe we’ll get you a Spiderman costume, and you can be the hero of the city.”
Koji beams at him, his excitement is contagious. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to appreciate this dynamic, the way Satoru fits so naturally into Koji’s world. You hate to admit it, but this is what Koji’s been missing—what you’ve been missing, too, in some small, buried way. Satoru’s hand once again brushes your shoulder during his next adjustment, that buried part of you is quickly overshadowed by the reminder of why this dynamic fell apart in the first place.
Luckily, Koji is already showered and dressed for bed in his matching red set. So as the movie progresses, nearing its end, so does his sleepiness. You along with him. Koji’s head begins to droop as the credits start to roll, his little body leaning further into Satoru’s side. His eyelids flutter with each blink, his earlier excitement now replaced by the slow pull of sleep. Satoru’s about to make a remark, before looking over at you and seeing your body slumped over on the other side.
The scene feels peaceful in a way he hadn’t anticipated—a rare moment of quiet amidst the chaos that’s been your guys’ lives lately. Koji’s soft breathing grows steadier, his small body completely leaning into Satoru’s side now, one hand clutching his Spiderman plush while the other hangs limply at his side. Satoru glances down at his son with a faint smile, brushing Koji’s hair out of his face with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He looks over to you next, ready your head resting on your hand. Your expression is soft, lips parted slightly as you drift into the kind of sleep that only exhaustion can bring. Satoru looks at the clock; 9:00pm.
For a moment, he just watches you both. Koji, who looks so much like him it’s almost uncanny, and you, the woman who’s somehow always managed to throw him off balance without even trying. He sighs softly, shaking his head at the scene before him. For a split second, he feels a shadow—a ghost from the past appears beside Koji. A baby girl who would’ve been seven by now.The baby girl who never got the chance to grow up. In that fleeting, haunting moment, he imagines her sitting there too, nestled beside her brother, giggling at Spiderman’s antics. He can imagine her features. She would’ve looked so much like you, it’s painful.
His chest tightens, and he has to look away, focusing on a random corner of the room as he fights to steady his breathing. It’s not fair—to her, to Koji, or to you. And yet, here he is, caught in the what-ifs and the might-have-beens, unable to let go of a past that feels like it happened both a lifetime ago and just yesterday. The glimpse is gone as soon as it comes, to which he’s thankful for because he is not crying right now. With a small grunt, he stands up and carefully moves Koji into his arms. Adjusting the boy and making sure he’s not waking up, he walks him over to the spare bedroom.
Satoru moves quietly, his footsteps soft against the floor as he cradles Koji in his arms. The boy’s head rests comfortably on his shoulder, his small body relaxed and completely unaware of the careful handling. The weight of his son in his arms, the warmth of Koji’s tiny form, is a stark reminder of everything he’s been missing. He pushes the door to the spare bedroom open gently, trying not to disturb the silence of the house. The moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a calm glow across the room. Satoru places Koji carefully on the bed, tucking him in with the same gentle movements he’s always used. He watches for a moment as the boy shifts slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips before settling back into a peaceful sleep.
For a second, Satoru just stands there, hands lingering at Koji’s side as if unsure of when to leave. It’s as if the past week—no, the past years—are catching up to him in this very moment. He never thought he'd be here, standing in a room like this, watching his son sleep under a roof that used to feel so distant. His chest tightens, but he refuses to let himself feel the weight of it. Not yet. Not with Koji so close. With one last look, he slowly pulls away, stepping back into the hallway and quietly closing the door behind him. The house feels colder as he moves through it, but this time, it’s not because of the empty spaces or the lingering tension. It’s because, for the first time in years, he’s truly trying to figure out where he fits in all of this.
And it’s a lot harder than he ever expected.
He walks back to the living room, your body now completely lying on your side. His lips purse as he stands before you, unsure if he should wake you or move you himself. Would that be okay? Is he crossing some boundary of yours if he touches you fully and intentionally?
Satoru stands there for a moment, studying you as you sleep. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your body curls slightly into the pillow, creates a sense of peace in the room, but also a sense of tension in him. The pull to reach out, to make sure you’re comfortable, is strong. But he hesitates, his mind racing with thoughts about boundaries, and the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable, especially when everything already feels so fragile between the two of you. He watches for a few more seconds, the quiet of the room making everything feel so... still. He doesn’t know how he got here, standing in the middle of the room, feeling so torn. Part of him wants to just go ahead and make sure you’re properly tucked in, like he did with Koji. But that other part of him continues to wonderf if that’s overstepping, if his presence, even now, feels intrusive. Satoru exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, he decides to attempt to recreate his actions for Koji; it’s the least he can do.
He bends his knees slightly, hands reaching out. But just as his fingertips graze your bare arms, you’re jolting up and awake. Head swiveling around, eyes barely open and bleary. “What’s happening? Where’s Koji?”
Satoru freezes, his fingers hovering in the air as your voice cuts through the stillness. His eyes flick to you, wide and disoriented from the abruptness of your awakening. "Y/N?" He murmurs, his voice low and hesitant, almost as if he's unsure whether you’re fully awake. "Koji’s in the other room, he’s asleep."
You sit up, rubbing your eyes, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Your thoughts are jumbled, disoriented from the deep slumber you’d just woken from. “I— I didn’t hear him... when did he go to bed?”
Satoru, still crouched by your bedside, lets out a soft sigh, his expression softening. "I put him down a few minutes ago. He was out before the movie ended." He pauses for a second, watching you carefully, his hand still lingering awkwardly in the air as if unsure whether to touch you or not. "You were really tired, so I thought I'd handle it."
You blink, the fog in your mind barely beginning to clear. Slowly, you nod, still trying to process everything in the haze of your exhaustion. “Thank you.” The words come out quieter than you expect, but there’s something in your voice that surprises both of you.
Satoru’s gaze lingers for a moment, a mix of concern and relief flashing in his eyes. He stands up, backing away from the bed slowly. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he says softly, hands running through his hair as he takes a step toward the door. “But you should go to bed. You can sleep with Koji or um—in my bed if you want.”
You stare at his figure, the weight of the situation still pressing down on you. There’s so much
happening, so much you didn’t expect, and yet… for some reason, having him here, like this, almost feels normal. You rub your temples, trying to stave off the headache forming.
“I’ll sleep out here, of course,” he quickly adds on, realizing the small, but accidental hinting.
You raise an eyebrow at his quick backpedaling, a small, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It's been a long time since you shared any sort of space with him—especially under these circumstances. But the way he’s stumbling over his words, trying so hard to make things comfortable, it makes you wonder if maybe he’s not as composed as he likes to act. “Thanks,” you murmur, rubbing your temples again. The migraine's intensity is growing, and it's all you can do to keep your emotions in check. You hadn’t expected this—any of it. Satoru’s presence here, offering you comfort in his own odd way, only complicates everything more. You never asked for this kind of help, but you can't deny the relief it brings. “I’ll sleep with Koji.”
Satoru’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, his expression softening as if he’s weighing his words carefully, trying not to overstep. He knows you’re not the type to ask for help. Hell, you hardly ever accept it when it’s offered. But tonight is different. Tonight is full of a thousand unspoken things. The lingering tension, the awkwardness of it all, and the confusing emotions between you two. It’s all too much, too quickly, and yet you feel the pull of something familiar—a bond you haven’t felt in years. “You sure?” he asks, his voice low. Almost like he’s waiting for you to give him some kind of permission or reassurance, something that lets him know you’re okay. His presence, his concern for Koji, it’s all so overwhelming in its own way.
You hesitate, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens just having him this close, even if it is just in the same house. “I’ll be fine,” you say, your voice a little softer than you intended. The last thing you want to do is drag him back into your life fully. But he’s already here, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you're too tired to argue. "You don’t have to stay out here." The words hang in the air for a beat.
You take this moment to rise from the couch, wiping your eyes once more. “Where is he?”
“Spare room,” he points.
You nod, more to yourself than to him, and retreat to the spare room. The migraine pounds in the background of your mind. Mind still riddled with sleep, you accidentally bump your shoulder into the wall, footsteps faltering. He moves faster than you anticipated—expected, his hands finally making contact with your upper arms; stablizing you. His touch itself feels reminiscent.
His grip on your arms is steady, firm—just like it used to be. You catch your breath for a moment, not expecting the familiarity of his touch to feel so grounding. For a split second, you’re taken back to moments from the past, the memories of simpler days when his touch brought comfort instead of tension. You want to pull away, to remind yourself that things aren’t the same anymore. But you’re too tired, too worn out, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into the stability he’s offering without question.
"Careful," Satoru’s voice is quiet, but there's a soft edge to it, like he’s genuinely concerned. His hands stay on your arms, not pulling away immediately, as if waiting for you to give him a signal that you’re okay.
You blink, the haze of sleep making everything feel just a little more surreal. "I’m fine," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, but it lacks conviction. Your body feels heavier than it should, and your mind seems to be swimming in fog.
He doesn’t let go right away. Instead, his fingers give a slight squeeze, a small, unspoken reassurance. "You sure? You look like you’re about to fall over."
"I’m just... tired," you say, the words slipping from your lips before you even realize. You wince internally, but it’s too late to take them back now. There’s no point.
Satoru nods, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the hallway, but the way his eyes linger on you makes something in your chest tighten. It’s like he’s still trying to figure you out, still trying to read you after all these years. He always was good at that. Without saying much more, he gently guides you to the door of the spare room, a hand hovering above the small of your back; his touch still light but firm. He’s not pushing you, just there, a quiet presence in the storm. "Get some rest. I’ll be nearby, just in case."
You nod, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and frustration well up inside you. "Thanks," you murmur, finally able to pull away from his grip and step into the room.
Before you close the door, you glance over at him, standing there in the hallway, his figure outlined by the soft glow from the living room. "Good night," you add, your voice a little softer than you meant it to be.
He doesn’t respond immediately, but there’s a flicker in his eyes that you can’t quite place. After a beat, he says quietly, "Good night, Y/N."
And then, with one last look, he walks away, leaving you alone in the quiet darkness of the room. The door clicks softly behind you, and for the first time in days, you feel a small sense of peace—fragile, uncertain, but there all the same.
Satoru has taken the liberty of getting Koji dressed and ready for school. Shushing his son with quiet murmurs so you won’t wake up. He’s a little surprised, but you must be that tired. Satoru usually wakes up earlier than most, having went to go check on you two, but getting shocked to see his son using the bathroom instead and saying something about how “Mama’s still sleeping, I have school.”
He’s a smart kid—a very smart kid. He guided Satoru the entire ride, remembering the name of his school and which streets to use. You raised him well. He parks his car in the lot, it stands out like a sore thumb among the civics, corollas, and trucks.
Carrying Koji in his arms towards the boys classroom. “Excited, buddy?”
“Mhm!”
Satoru smiles and kisses his cheek. “I’ll pick you up, okay?”
“Okay, Papa. Thank you.” Koji gratefully responds.
“No need to thank me, Koji. It’s my job.”
Satoru can feel the lingering stares and hushed whispers as he walks down the hallway to his son’s class. Ignoring it like a pro and focusing on one thing and one thing only. As they approach his room, Mr. Ito is standing outside like usual. As soon as the man sees the two, his eyes visibly widen before playing it off with a cough of his throat. “Good morning, Koji. Gojo.”
Satoru remembers the guy as the one from the cafe. That one. He nods in understanding, setting Koji down and crouching with him. “Have a fun day, I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Papa.” Koji kisses his cheek and rushes inside happily.
"Morning," Satoru replies coolly, standing tall as he watches Koji run off to join his classmates. "I trust Koji’s been good?"
"Of course, of course," Mr. Ito replies quickly, his smile tight, the words coming out a little too fast. "He’s been a delight to have here. Very bright."
Satoru nods, but his eyes never leave Mr. Ito’s. "Glad to hear it."
There’s an awkward silence that stretches between them, but Satoru isn’t in the mood for small talk. He could read the teacher’s discomfort, and he’s not about to play into it. After all, it’s not like they’re friends, or even acquaintances. Mr. Ito shifts on his feet, and Satoru can tell he’s trying to think of something to say, something that will smooth over whatever awkwardness hangs in the air. “So, where’s Ms. Y/N today?”
Satoru’s brows tick, arms crossing. “At home.”
Mr. Ito nods, clearly trying to gauge whether there’s more to the story, but Satoru doesn’t give him any openings. He’s not in the mood to entertain questions about you, not now, not here, especially not from someone like him. "Ah, I see," Mr. Ito mumbles, his voice trailing off as he shuffles his feet again. "I just thought... well, with everything that’s been going on, I expected to see her here, too."
Satoru’s eyes narrow, though his expression remains calm, just a hint of warning in his tone. "She’s handling things on her own. We’re both doing fine. You don’t need to worry about it. You have a class full of children to teach."
The other man hides his displeasure behind a stiff nod. “Right, right. Just wondering, that’s all.”
“Don’t have to, she already has a man for that.”
Satoru wonders why he’s being do damn weird right now. Possesive almost. You two aren’t together, but the way this guy is asking about you, it’s slightly setting him off. Who does he think he is worrying about you?
Mr. Ito falters, his smile fading as Satoru’s words hang heavy in the air. "Right, of course," he mumbles, clearly taken aback. He shifts on his feet, his eyes darting to the ground before locking back onto Satoru. "Just asking, I mean… it's just a lot going on, you know?"
Satoru’s gaze hardens, the protective instinct that rises within him catching him off guard. He takes a slight step closer to Mr. Ito, his tone deliberately neutral but carrying an edge. "You don’t need to worry about her. She’s got it covered."
There’s a flicker of something in Mr. Ito’s eyes—something that hints he’s about to say something else, but he swallows it down, nodding stiffly instead. "Yeah, of course." He quickly looks away, clearing his throat. "Well, I guess I’ll… I’ll get back to the class."
Satoru stands still for a moment, his posture rigid, a sharp edge in his expression as he watches Mr. Ito retreat. He doesn't know why it bothered him so much. The guy wasn’t even doing anything wrong, not really. But the way he was asking about you—like he had any right to—made something inside Satoru twist uncomfortably. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this man didn’t belong in your world, that he had no place prying into your life.
Satoru finally exhales, shaking his head. Whatever. It was just a teacher.
With one last glance at the classroom door, he turns and heads back to the school doors. There's no reason to overthink this. It’s just… odd. He can’t let it get to him.
You wake up that day to a lone bed. Groaning to yourself as the sunbeams spray across your face and momentarily blind you. Hand reaching out for the space next to you. Instead, you see a note saying: dropped koji off, i’ll be back around noon to grab some lunch. sleep up
Instantly, your eyes widen, springing up out of bed. Reaching for your phone, the time reads 11:30pm. “Shit!” you curse to yourself, rushing out the door and to your bag still on the chair from last night. You dig in for your work clothes, changing right there and then and praying to the gods that Satoru doesn’t walk through this door. Brushing your teeth, hair, washing your face, putting some moustirzer and sunscreen on, all of it takes way too long. By the time you’re done and messily putting your shoes on, it’s twelve. Four hours after you were supposed to be at work. Hana’s going to kill me.
Grabbing your bag with rough and rushed movements, you’re sprinting to the door at this point. Out of breath and already conjuring up a sorry apology for Hana. you reach the doorhandle, flinging it open. But as soon as you do, you come to an abrupt stop.
Because standing before you is a woman, a woman you’ve seen before on Satoru’s lock screen. The same woman who kissed the lips that you used to. Arms crossed and a nasty scowl forming on her face as she eyes you up and down in a criticizing way.
Finally, she scoffs out.
“Do you know who I am?”
a/n: they so cute
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The existence of new jeans success prove how u bitches can't boycott anything
#z rambles#mind u enjoying their music is okay i dont care most of us pirate thsir shit anyways#but sincerely the hypocritical aspects of the whole ordeal is insane but what would i know i literally dont care about them#kpoppies when they realized the children will be traumatized and exploited but hehe music nicceeeeyyyy#i feel like when talking sbout the issue many people tend to think were attacking the kids when the issue is never them#like these r kids the issue is not theirs to bare#they couldve waited a few more years ti sent these kids out but no#its crazy cuz apparently this new show theyre doing r all old faces the industry have seen AND worked with before with talent#and yet you rather push out CHILDREN who barely had time for their own childhood snd focus on their growth#who often than not lack severe practice and talent#and it wont ever change. you wont evwr see the success story of a trainee who work their ass off anymore#they jsut dishes them out now. no matter how successful or loved they are. theyre YOUNG#okay im gonna go now
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