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alygator77 · 16 days

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♬♪ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : beat of my heart ♬♪

♬ pairing. college au // drummer! gojo x psychology major! reader (f)

♬ summary. being a psychology major with a passion for music, you're no stranger to chaos—between juggling school, caring for your mother, and working at a local music shop, you've learned to keep your cool. but when a cocky drummer pushes your patience to the limit, a chance encounter with satoru gojo—an enigmatic, sharp-tongued musician—turns your world upside down. as you're drawn to his dangerous charm, an unexpected connection deepens, but so do the secrets you've both been running from. will you get caught up in his rhythm before you realize it’s too late?

♬ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, slow burn, smut, angst with comfort, some fluff, readers mom has dementia, mentions of suicide, alcohol/weed usage, unresolved trauma, commitment issues

♬ words: 7.3k

♬ a/n. hi lovelies, welcome to the debut of this fic :) very excited to explore this dynamic between satoru and y/n, thanks for reading ♡

♬ taglist: open

series masterlist ♬ next chapter → pending...

ch 1 // the first measure

“Emotional regulation is defined as the process by which individuals influence the emotions they experience, when they experience them, and how they express them in response to different stimuli.”

Staring at the neatly printed words in your psychology textbook, your mind automatically begins to dissect the concept.

Emotional regulation. The holy grail of human behavior, wrapped neatly in clinical terms. It’s the ability to keep yourself in check, to craft a perfect mask that hides what’s boiling beneath the surface. The world only gets to see what you allow. If it were as easy as the textbook made it sound, half your classes wouldn’t exist.

Letting out a breath, you sink deeper into your chair.

People aren’t simple equations you can balance, after all—people are… complicated.

Emotions, even more so.

They ebb and flow like unpredictable tides, swelling when you least expect them, crashing down when you think you’ve regained control. They are messy, stubborn, and relentless—especially when the brain stops following its own rules.

Your mothers face comes to mind—uninvited. Her once-bright eyes are now dull with confusion, emotions flickering in and out like static on a broken TV. Dementia has stolen the filter that once kept her reactions in line with reality. It’s as if her mind is betraying her, one piece at a time.

You press your fingers against the pages of the textbook. Will any amount of psychology truly prepare you to untangle the complexities of the human mind? Can it allow you to help her—or at least understand her—before she’s lost entirely?

Before you can sink further into that thought, an ear-splitting crash reverberates through the store, jolting you back into the present. Glancing up with a sigh, the peaceful hum of the music store is shattered by the clumsy cacophony of someone abusing a drum kit like it owes him money.

Clearly, emotional regulation isn’t on that guy’s radar.

Yet, somehow, you’ve grown used to it. Working part-time here has taught you how to tune out chaos, as if the dissonance of the store has become its own kind of background music.

It’s chaotic, but it’s your kind of chaos.

The strings of guitars being tested, the pounding of drum kits, the chattering of customers—it all blends into a rhythm you no longer notice.

You’ve been working part-time in this quaint little music shop for so long that silence has become unsettling. If it’s too quiet, your mind starts wandering, spiraling into places you don’t always want to go. And so, the chaos is your anchor—it helps you focus, keeps you present.

Studying in silence feels foreign.

“Ugh… I have such a headache,” Utahime’s voice breaks through your thoughts, her hand pressing to her temple. Standing a few feet away, she shoots a glare towards the drum section. “He’s been at it for practically an hour now. Like… come on. Is he trying to destroy that kit or learn how to play it?”

Glancing up from your textbook, you eyes land on a brawny guy with jet-black hair, slamming away on the drums with no sense of rhythm, no control—just brute force.

“Has it really been that long?” you ask, blinking at the scene. The noise had faded into the background for you, becoming just another layer of the store’s soundtrack.

Utahime gives you a look that screams disbelief.

“You didn’t notice?”

You shrug.

“Guess I’ve learned to tune it out.”

“Tch… wish I could do that,” she rolls her eyes, rubbing her temples like the sound is physically burrowing into her skull. “That guy is killing me.”

Oh, shit. Now that your attention is focused, you notice just how bad it really is. It’s not just noise—it’s borderline offensive to music. He’s not even playing the drums—he’s assaulting them—completely unaware of the sonic devastation he’s unleashing on the store.

Utahime lets out another long, exasperated groan, her entire body sagging as she leans forward in defeat.

“I swear, if he keeps going, I’m going to snap,” her elbows rest on the counter, and she presses her forehead into her hands. “y/nnnn,” she whines, lifting her head just enough to glimpse at you. “Can you please do something?”

Glancing around the store, you catch the irritated looks of other customers—one guy near the synthesizers is glaring openly at the drummer, his hand gripping a set of headphones so tightly you half expect him to snap them in half.

It’s like the whole store is holding its breath, waiting for someone—anyone—to make it stop.

A sigh escapes your lips as you close your textbook. It’s one thing to tune out the chaos when you’re focused on studying, but now that you’re paying attention, the noise feels like an assault on your senses too. You can’t blame Utahime for losing her patience—though she’s never been one to take matters into her own hands.

“Fine, I’ll handle it,” you mutter, pushing yourself up from your seat.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathes, finally peeling her hands away from her temples. “Please, work your magic. Before we all go deaf.”

You roll your eyes internally, though you can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Magic. Sure—that’s one way to put it.

What Utahime calls ‘magic’ is really just years of learning how to manage other people’s shit without losing your cool.

It’s not magic—it’s survival. A skill you’ve honed out of necessity, not desire. And sure, maybe your love for psychology helps—you’ve got the theories to back up the practice—but most days it feels more like wrangling toddlers who never learned how to grow up.

Taking a steady breath, you step into the fray, weaving through the store’s labyrinth of instruments and displays. As you get closer, the vibrations from the drums rattle through your bones, crawling up your spine. The sound is unbearable, like nails on a chalkboard amplified through a megaphone.

The guy doesn’t even look up, his head bent low over the drum kit, raven hair falling in messy strands across his forehead. His arms move with the rhythm of someone who has no idea what rhythm actually is, and the muscles in his forearms ripple with each heavy-handed strike as he slams the sticks down like he’s personally offended by the drums.

You stand off to the side for a moment, watching him have at it. You’ve dealt with a lot of difficult people working here, but this guy? He’s so oblivious to the fact that the rest of the store is on the verge of mutiny.

Clearing your throat, you raise your voice, hoping to break through his focus.

“Excuse me!”

Nothing.

Another crash of the cymbals, loud enough to rattle your skull. Your jaw tightens as you try again, this time louder.

“Excuuuuse me!”

Still nothing. He’s completely in his own world, bashing away with reckless abandon. It’s like he’s in a vacuum, utterly disconnected from the chaos he’s creating around him.

Jesus this guy… your patience thins and you step closer—close enough now to feel the heat radiating off him from his overexertion. His shirt clings to his back with sweat, and the muscles in his arms continue to ripple with each reckless swing of the drumsticks.

He’s not just playing hard—he’s playing like he’s got something to prove.

As you reach out to tap his shoulder, you try to keep your touch firm but not aggressive, although, the moment your fingers make contact with him, his entire body jerks—drumsticks freezing mid-air as he whips his head around to face you.

His dark eyes lock onto yours, sharp and filled with a flicker of annoyance.

“What?” he snaps, voice dripping with irritation.

Keeping your expression neutral, you try not to let his attitude get to you.

“You’ve been at this for a while,” you begin, as calm as you can manage. “We have a limited selection and there are other customers who may be wanting to try this kit.”

His eyes narrow, clearly unimpressed.

“So?” he drawls, waving the drumsticks lazily, like your request is beneath him.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you press your lips together in protest. Stay professional, you remind yourself. Shifting your weight slightly, you square your shoulders and look him directly in the eyes.

“So,” you continue, voice firmer this time, “store policy is thirty minutes per instrument. You’ve been playing for over an hour.”

A low, sarcastic laugh bubbles from his chest, the sound filled with mockery as he tilts his head back slightly.

“And… what are you gonna do about it?” leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees like he's settling for a show—eyes glimmering with amusement as his lips curl into a smirk. “Throw me out?”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek—every fiber of your being is itching to knock this guy down a peg.

Ugh. What a tool.

The condescension in his voice grates on you like sandpaper, but you force yourself to stay composed.

“Look…store policy is pretty clear,” you reply evenly, nodding towards the sign behind the counter. “You either give someone else a turn, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Your words seem to pique his interest—his smirk widens, eyes flicking over you slowly, appraisingly. Suddenly you’re more interesting to him than this drum set. He pushes himself off the stool in a slow, deliberate movement, and you hold your breath the moment he towers over you.

He’s by no means, a small guy.

The light behind him is blocked from his broad shoulders, and there’s a new edge to his gaze now. The moment he invades your space, it is just a little too close for comfort.

“Oh yeah?” your stomach turns from the low suggestive timber of his voice, “And what if I don’t feel like leaving, sweetheart? You gonna make me?”

Ick.

This guy might take the cake for being the most difficult prick you’ve had to deal with here, and that’s saying something. Working in this music shop, you’ve come across a lot of full of themselves wannabees, praising themselves like the next big thing—acting like God’s gift to music when all they want to play over and over again is ‘Stairway to Heaven,’ and ‘Wonderwall.’

A surge of discomfort ripples through your body, but you stand your ground. You know how this goes—he wants a reaction, and you’re not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“Look dude, I’m not asking,” your tone sharpens, leaving no room for argument. “This is your last warning”

His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, and a low whistle escapes his lips, as if he’s impressed—but it’s the kind of faux admiration that makes your skin crawl.

“You’re a tough one, huh?” he muses, chuckling softly.

Leaning in, the heat of his breath brushes against your skin as he invades your space once again—far too close for comfort—and you feel his gaze sweep over you slowly, lingering in a way that feels slimy and unwelcome.

“I like a girl with a little fire,” he adds, voice dropping lower. “It always makes things more fun.”

Gross.

Your hands curl into fists by your sides and you fight the urge to recoil as a surge of revulsion twists through you like a knife.

But before you can respond—before you even have the chance to formulate the sharp retort already forming on your tongue—the air shifts and a new voice cuts in.

“Wow, did I just walk in on the world’s worst pickup line, or are we about to throw hands over a drum kit?”

Turning your head towards the source of the voice, your eyes land on a tall figure standing a few feet away—his hair is a striking shade of snowy white, messy and untamed, falling in tousled strands that almost brush against the black sunglasses obscuring his eyes, and even with his face partially hidden, there’s no mistaking the mischievous glint tugging at the corners of his mouth—like he’s watching the scene unfold for his own amusement.

Despite the casual nature of his appearance—jeans slung low, a loose-fitting hoodie—there’s something undeniably striking about him. It’s the kind of presence that demands attention without asking for it

Who the hell is this guy?

Clearly irritated by the interruption, the drummer straightens up—his smirk faltering as he sizes up the newcomer.

“This doesn’t concern you, man,” he growls, tight with irritation. “I’m just having a little conversation with her.”

The snowy stranger’s grin turns sharp, though his voice remains light.

“Yeeeah, see, that’s where you’re wrong,” he steps up beside you, and without hesitation, his arm slips around your waist, pulling you smoothly into his side like you’ve always belonged there. “Everything concerning her concerns me.”

Your heart skips a beat, caught off guard by the sudden, possessive gesture. Part of you bristles at the boldness, but another part… feels oddly safe in his grasp—like he’s been by your side forever.

There’s a shift in the atmosphere as the drummer's eyes narrow—like the balance of power has tipped—the presence of this stranger throwing him off.

“Oh really? And just who the hell are you?” he snaps.

Your mysterious stranger doesn’t miss a beat—he chuckles softly, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his eyes—brilliant, vivid blue, and gleaming with a spark that teeters between playful and dangerous. It’s the kind of look that makes your heart flip.

“Oh, me?” he feigns innocence with a nonchalant shrug, like this whole thing is just mildly amusing to him. “I’m nobody special.”

Sliding his sunglasses back into place, he casually pulls you in a bit closer, and you are met with the warmth of his body as he leans into you just slightly.

“Just here to make sure my girl doesn’t have to deal with assholes. Y’know how it is.”

Your mind scrambles to catch up.

Your girl? You blink, heat rushing to your cheeks as the words rolling off his tongue begin to register. You barely know this guy—hell, you don’t know him at all—and yet here he is, acting like the two of you are something.

But…maybe it’s working? Because the drummer’s eyes narrow further, his expression twisting as a furrow darkens over his features. Ah…but then you realize he’s not focused on the claim your stranger just made—no, his attention is locked on a different word entirely.

“Asshole?” he echoes, voice rising with indignation, practically spitting the word back. Clenching his fists, he steps forward with a scowl twisting upon you face. “You calling me an asshole?”

“Well, yeah,” your stranger remarks casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He shrugs again, utterly unfazed by the tension mounting between them. “When the shoe fits…I mean, you’re acting like one, aren’t you?”

Pure rage flashes across the drummer’s face, and you can visibly see his fists trembling slightly.

Uhh… on second thought, is this guy even helping?

Now you’re not so sure if your so-called rescuer is making things better or worse, because clearly, the drummer is on the verge of snapping.

“You better watch your mouth man,” the drummer snarls, fury simmering beneath the surface.

But the stranger’s grin only widens, and he exudes a confidence that makes it clear he’s not worried in the slightest.

“Heh. That’s a warning I get a lot,” he muses, tilting his head slightly. “But y’know what? I don’t usually listen.”

It's a wonder the drumsticks the drummer is fisting haven't cracked under pressure, given how tightly he clenches them—his knuckles turn white.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he growls through gritted teeth.

A low hum rumbles against your strangers’ lips as he ponders the question thoughtfully.

“I mean, I’ve been told I’m pretty hilarious,�� he scratches the back of his head, like he’s seriously considering the statement, then, glancing at you, his eyes gleam with amusement as his sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose slightly.

“Whatcha think babe? Am I funny?”

The question—and that pet name—catches you completely off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

But the drummer isn’t interested in the little game your stranger seems to be playing. His jaw clenches—teeth grinding audibly as his face hardens into something feral.

“I’m about two seconds away from wiping that stupid grin off your face,” he spits, taking another aggressive step forward.

Fucking hell, is a fight really about to break out at your work?

Your pulse quickens, and for a split second, you think he might actually swing at him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the stranger says, still grinning like none of this phases him.

He releases his hold on your waist and steps forward with a smooth, almost lazy movement, placing himself between you and the drummer. His hands slip casually into his pockets, posture relaxed, but the air around him shifts.

“Let’s pump the brakes, big guy,” he tilts his head slightly, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone. “You’re welcome to try. But I’ll tell ya right now—” his teasing lilt diminishes, replaced by something colder, more commanding, “you’re not gonna like how it ends.”

His words—a warning and a challenge wrapped in one—hang heavy, and for a moment it feels like the entire store is holding its breath, waiting to see what happens next. Glancing around, you notice a few customers watching the scene unfold.

Fucking hell—this has gone from bad to worse.

And yet…the drummer doesn’t swing. He doesn’t move—doesn’t even flinch.

He’s seething—rage evident in the set of his jaw, the clenched fists at his sides—but something about the stranger’s calm, unwavering demeanor is throwing him off balance. It’s almost impressive, really.

No, scratch that—it is impressive.

You misjudged this guy. He might have walked in here like a cocky troublemaker, throwing out cheesy one-liners and pushing your buttons, but now? Now, he’s cool under pressure, defusing a situation that could’ve easily escalated into violence.

Body language often says more than words ever could, and his is completely in control—relaxed, hands in his pockets, not a single muscle tensed for a fight, yet there’s a sharpness beneath the surface—an unspoken control that demands attention.

It’s brilliant in a way. He’s defusing the threat without lifting a finger—a textbook example of how to manage tension without aggression. This guy is winning a psychological game the drummer doesn’t even realize he’s playing.

Their silent standoff stretches, until finally, the stranger breaks the silence with his smooth and almost disarmingly casual voice.

“Look, man,” he shrugs one shoulder with a nonchalance that seems almost practiced. “This is me giving you a chance to walk away with your dignity intact.” Tilting his head slightly, he gestures toward you with a subtle nod. “She asked you politely to stop. This is a store, not your personal garage. So maybe it’s time you pack it up and go before you make things worse.”

There’s a moment—a pause that feels like it stretches just a beat too long—where you can practically see the drummer’s gears turning in his head, weighing his options, trying to hold onto whatever’s left of his bravado.

Then, finally, he mutters through gritted teeth,

“Whatever.”

The word is spat out, dripping with frustration and barely-contained rage, and with a sharp movement, he tosses the drumsticks onto the kit—the wooden sticks clattering against the drums in a final act of defiance.

“You’re not worth it, and this place sucks anyway,” he mutters, full of aggravation, but his heart no longer in it—it’s clear his fight has deflated.

Turning sharply on his heel, he shoves past both you and the stranger with a forceful shoulder, storming toward the exit, and once the door slams shut behind him, the sound reverberates through the store with an unmistakable finality.

Just like that, the tension breaks. It’s like the whole store exhales at once—the weight lifting from the air as the distant murmur of customers resumes.

Before you can fully process what just happened, the stranger beside you turns his attention back to you.

“Well, that was fun,” he remarks, “Could’ve gone worse though. I mean, I didn’t even get to throw a punch. Talk about anti-climactic, huh?”

You barely manage to take a breath as he closes the space between you just a little more, his movements slow and intentional, and your heart flutters the moment his sunglasses slip down slightly, just enough for you to get a direct glimpse of his eyes. They lock onto yours—those bright, vivid blues—and for a second, everything else around you fades into the background.

“Seriously though,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “You okay?”

There’s something undeniably genuine in his tone, something that cuts through the playful exterior and lands right in your chest. You weren’t expecting that—this tenderness from someone who moments ago had brushed off a near-fight like it was nothing.

His eyes—soft but still burning with intensity—hold yours captive, and for a second, you forget how to speak.

“Uh… yeah,” you manage, “I think so.”

“Good,” he says with a nod, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Because I think you owe me a ‘thank you’ for that stellar rescue.”

You blink out of incredulity.

Thank you?

So much for tender—who does this guy think he is? You nearly scoff aloud. He wants a 'thank you' for a rescue that, truthfully, you weren’t even sure you needed?

Unsure whether you’re amused or annoyed by his arrogance, you open your mouth to respond—but before you can say anything, he cuts you off with a wink.

“Kidding,” he says with a chuckle, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Always happy to help.” His hands settle into his pockets and he pauses, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. “Especially when it means I get to rescue a pretty girl like you.”

The compliment lands harder than you’d care to admit as you feel the warmth creeping up your neck and into your cheeks—betraying the fact that—against your better judgment—you’re not entirely immune to his charm.

A flicker of something stirs in your chest…

—nope. Let’s not go there.

Pushing it down before it can grow into something more, you refuse to let that feeling root itself.

You’re not looking for attention, especially not from a guy like this—a guy who flashes a cocky grin like he knows it works. The kind of guy who acts like the world bends to his whims.

Romance? No thanks. You’ve got bigger things to focus on. He’s exactly the kind of distraction you don’t need.

“Rescue might be a strong word,” you mutter, finally finding your voice again as you cross your arms over your chest. “I had it under control… mostly.”

“Oh, you did? My bad,” leaning in slightly, his voice lowers as if sharing a secret. “But trust me, that guy? He was one wrong word away from turning this into a full-on disaster. You’re lucky I stepped in when I did.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at his comment, refusing to let him rattle you this time, and there’s a flicker of amusement creeping into your voice as you challenge him.

“Lucky, huh? So, what now? You expecting a medal or something?”

His grin widens—a grin that’s undeniably magnetic, but you resist being pulled into its orbit.

“Naaaah, I’m not that high maintenance,” straightening himself, he regards you with a slight tilt of the head. “But… I’ll take a coffee if you’re offering.”

You blink, momentarily thrown off by his response.

Did he just… ask you out?

“Wait, what?” you stammer, not quite sure you heard him right.

“A coffee,” he repeats smoothly. “Y’know, like a reward for my heroic efforts.” He pauses, just long enough to make it clear he’s toying with you. “Or is that too forward? I can settle for your number instead.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes your lips—a sharp exhale that’s part disbelief, part amusement. This guy is unbelievable.

Nope. You’re not going to let him get to you that easily.

“I don’t even know your name,” you shoot back, lifting your chin just a little higher, “and you’re already angling for a reward?”

“Ouch, y/n,” he replies, placing a hand dramatically over his chest as if you’ve wounded him deeply—his grin, however, never falters. “That stings.”

You stare at him, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“How do you…?”

“How do I know your name?” he finishes for you, clearly enjoying this a little too much. He tilts his head. “Well, for starters, your nametag.”

Oh.

You glance down quickly and—of course—there it is, printed neatly on the tag pinned to your shirt, and now you are mentally kicking yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Right… of course,” you shake your head in mild embarrassment. It’s infuriating how easily he’s messing with you.

An amused chuckle dances on his lips and he leans back ever so slightly—hands in his pockets like he has all the time in the world.

“But that’s not the only reason I know you,” he adds, voice taking on a more playful tone, almost like he’s daring you to figure it out. “You really don’t recognize me, do you?”

You blink, trying to piece together where you might’ve seen him before. There’s something vaguely familiar about his voice…have you heard it before? Do you know him?

“I don’t…” you start, trailing off, searching for any spark of recognition, but you come up blank. “Uhh… should I?”

Flashing you a toothy smile, he's clearly delighted by your confusion.

“Ouch again. Double whammy,” with a dramatic sigh, he shakes his head in mock disappointment as his crooked grin curves up. “I guess I’m not as memorable as I thought.”

Your eyebrow quirks up at his theatrics, and despite yourself, the corner of your lips do too. Ugh. You want to be irritated with him but somehow, he makes it incredibly hard to be.

“Right… well,” tilting your head, your voice dips with playful sarcasm, “maybe if you told me your name, it might jog my memory?”

With a soft chuckle, he slides his sunglasses off and rests them on top of his head, and just like that, you’re greeted with the full, unobstructed view of his eyes—striking, electric blue, so vivid they almost don’t seem real, and they lock onto yours with an intensity that sends a flutter through your chest.

“Satoru,” he says smoothly, as if his name alone should be enough to make everything click. “Gojo Satoru.”

The name floats in your mind, like it’s circling around something, but still, nothing concrete surfaces. He seems so confident—so sure that you should know who he is—and it only adds to your frustration.

Do you know him?

Generally, you keep to yourself, both at work and on campus—with your moms condition you don’t really have time for the exciting college life. Tilting your head, your eyes narrow as you study his face—surely, you would have remembered someone like him... wouldn’t you?

“Gojo Satoru…” you test the name on your tongue as if saying it aloud might unlock some hidden memory. But still—nothing. “Sorry, not ringing any bells.”

Satoru laughs again, rich and unbothered, like this is the highlight of his day.

“Wow, I’m really striking out today,” he shakes his head in mock dismay. “I guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

Before you can muster a response, he reaches out casually, plucking a pair of drumsticks from an endcap display nearby, twirling them between his fingers like it’s second nature. He examines them for a moment, then looks back at you with a raised brow.

“So, since we’re here and I’m feeling generous… how about you check me out?”

You glance down at the drumsticks in his hand, then back up at him—his expression is unreadable, that signature smirk lingering as if he’s waiting for you to catch up.

“...you mean ring up the drumsticks, right?” you clarify, though your voice is uncertain.

“Sure, let’s go with that,” he murmurs, and then, with a sly wink, he adds, “But I don’t mind if you do both.”

For a beat, your breath hitches, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes.

Okay—this is guy is definitely a flirt. You’re not falling for his trap.

“Wow… you’re really not subtle, are you?” reaching out, you snatch the drumsticks from his hand. “How many women actually fall for that?” you turn on your heel towards the counter, and he follows in step.

“Hmm…I’m not exactly keeping score,” he admits. “But let’s just say I don’t hear too many complaints.”

Glancing back at him, you arch an eyebrow as you approach the register—fingers automatically moving to unlock your cash drawer, and he leans casually against the counter beside you, propping his elbow on it—like he owns the space.

“Will say though,” he adds, voice dipping lower, “I don’t usually have to try this hard. You’re pretty special.”

You scoff, your fingers hesitating slightly over the keys, though you refuse to let him see how his words make a tiny flutter bloom in your chest.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you mutter under your breath, trying—and failing—to focus solely on the transaction.

Satoru hums, watching you with that same playful gleam in his eyes.

“Nah,” his tone drops to something almost conspiratorial, “you’re definitely one of a kind.”

Yup. He’s a smooth talker—and without a doubt, bad news.

Pressing your lips together, you force your gaze to remain on the screen in front of you. He’s playing a game, and you’re determined not to lose.

As you scan the barcode on the drumsticks, he casually pulls out his wallet to pay, and that’s when something catches your eye—a student ID peeking out from the clear pocket inside his wallet.

Narrowing your eyes slightly, your fingers hover mid-air as you get a better look. The ID is familiar—yet you can't make out the school’s name plastered right across it, but the logo and the colors are unmistakable.

Wait a second…

“We go to the same school?”

Satoru looks up, his grin stretching even wider and the glimmer in his eyes practically daring you to catch up—he’s been waiting for this moment.

“Took ya long enough,” he teases, playful but with a hint of smugness. “Yeah, we do.”

You blink, the pieces clicking together a little too late.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you demand, unable to stop the half-accusatory, half-embarrassed tone that underlines your voice. A groan slips past your lips and you shake your head in frustration. “I swear…you’ve been messing with me this whole time.”

With an amused chuckles, Satoru lifts his shoulders in a casual shrug.

“Hey, it’s more fun this way,” he leans in a little closer, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. “Besides,” he pauses, tilting his head just slightly while his lips curve into a sly grin. “I like watching you piece things together. You’ve got this cute little furrow in your brow when you’re thinking hard.”

The intensity in his eyes makes your breath hitch, and no matter how hard you resist, there’s that undeniable flutter in your chest, warm and unwanted.

“How come I’ve never seen you around?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation back onto safer ground.

“Oof. You’re killing me, y/n. I pass by you every day, actually.”

You frown, narrowing your eyes.

“Every day? Where?”

“The water fountain,” he says smoothly, tapping his fingers on the counter rhythmically, just a light touch. “Y’know, where you sit and study. Every afternoon, without fail. I walk by almost every day.”

Ah. That’s why his voice must’ve sounded familiar. You probably heard him—another voice blending into the background while you were studying.

“Really? Guess I never noticed you.”

Resting his chin in his hand, a dramatic huff falls from Satoru's lips as they form into a pout.

“Jeez…you don’t quit. I can’t believe I’m that forgettable.”

You can’t resist the soft laugh that escapes you, despite yourself—it’s hard not to find his antics at least a little amusing, and though you’d never admit it, the way he’s so desperate for your attention is almost… cute.

“Maybe you just blend into the background too much,” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow while extending your hand, silently gesturing for his payment.

“Ouch...” he winces dramatically, pulling out his card before placing it in your hand. “Okay, that one stung a little.”

“Yeah, well… I’m sure your ego will recover,” you quip, glancing up briefly before focusing back on the transaction. But there’s a brief pause as you swipe his card—a silence that suddenly feels charged with something else.

You can feel his gaze lingering on you, heavy and expectant, and you try your hardest not to give in to the pull to look at him again—but the heat of his attention is unmistakable, almost like a gravitational force pulling you in, and you can feel your pulse quicken under his scrutiny.

“I gotta say, you’ve got a sharp tongue—I like it,” he murmurs.

Your fingers freeze for just a second, your breath hitching slightly as his tone shifts, and you can’t resist—your eyes flick up and he holds your gaze captive yet again.

“But it’s a bad habit, y’know,” he continues, his voice dropping, growing more intent as his eyes flicker over your features. “Not being aware of your surroundings like that...” leaning in just a fraction, his words become a quiet murmur between the two of you. “What if some creep tried to take advantage of you?”

The gentleness in his demeanor… is he genuinely concerned? It’s hard to tell—harder than you’d like to admit—and it’s easier to convince yourself he isn’t—that this is all part of his charming routine, because that makes it easier to ignore the subtle pull he has on you.

“Well,” you keep your voice steady, despite the flutter in your chest, “lucky for me, no one’s tried. Unless…” tilting your head slightly, a teasing smirk tugs at your lips, “you’re secretly admitting to being a creep.”

Satoru’s laugh spills out, rich and warm, breaking the moment just enough for you to catch your breath.

“Nah, I’m not creep,” his voice lightens as he straightens up just a little. “Just a concerned citizen looking out for someone who’s too absorbed in her textbooks to notice the world around her.”

You huff, though the corners of your mouth twitch upward against your will.

“I can handle myself, thank you very much,” you quip back, determined to maintain control over the situation. In a quick, defiant motion, you grab the receipt and shove it into his hand, a small victorious gesture.

“Right, right. You definitely proved that today when I swooped in for the rescue,” he teases, and his hand brushes yours ever so briefly as he takes the receipt—a touch so light is sends a tiny spark up your arm. “But hey, what if you don’t show up at the fountain one day? I’m gonna have to file a missing person’s report.”

You can’t help but laugh at his ridiculousness, the sound escaping before you can stop it.

“A missing person’s report? Seriously?” you roll your eyes.

“Yup,” he grins, emphasizing the ‘p’. “You’re there so often it’s practically routine. Same spot. Same time. Every day. It’s kinda predictable, y/n. If I don’t see you there one day, I’ll just assume some creep finally got to you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, though you can’t help the faint heat rising in your cheeks.

“Predictable?” you retort, trying to sound indignant. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, you are,” he counters, clearly reveling in your reaction as he slips the receipt in his pocket. “But hey, that’s not a bad thing. It makes you easier to find if you ever disappear.”

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes, a snappy reply ready on your tongue, but he’s already raising his hands with a dramatic flair, like he’s about to paint the scene in vivid detail.

“I can see it now: ‘Missing: Cute girl who spends way too much time by the water fountain. Last seen buried in a psychology textbook. Answers to y/n.’”

It’s impossible not to laugh again, the sound bubbling up as you watch him weave his ridiculous scenario with such confidence and flair. His eyes flick to yours, and a satisfied grin tugs at the corner of his mouth—clearly pleased with the effect he’s having on you.

“Wow,” you manage between chuckles. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“Mhm,” he hums in agreement, leaning slightly closer. “Gotta be prepared. I don’t want anything happening to my favorite water fountain girl.”

Your heart flips—and for a second, it feels like he’s given you some kind of title you didn’t realize you wanted. You try to brush it off, to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks, but it’s not so easy with the way he’s looking at you.

“Riiiight… well, lucky for you,” you manage, attempting to sound nonchalant, “I’m not planning on disappearing anytime soon.”

“Good,” he murmurs, low and smooth. “Because I’d miss seeing you.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the upper hand, though the small smile that tugs at your lips betrays you.

“Uh-huh. Sure you would.”

There’s a brief moment, just the two of you—his gaze still locked onto yours, when—

“Ahem.”

You jump slightly at the sound, turning to see Utahime standing beside you, arms crossed, a knowing smile pulling at the corner of her lips. She gives you a look—a very knowing look—that sends heat rushing to your cheeks all over again.

“I’m taking my break,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes dancing with mischief as they flick between you and Satoru. “So… don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”

Suddenly hyper-aware of the tension in the air, you swallow hard and offer her a tight smile.

“No promises,” Satoru quips, that cocky grin returning to his face as he leans against the counter slightly—clearly unfazed by the interruption.

After Utahime saunters off, he continues smoothly, picking up right where he left off.

“So...” he starts again, “What do you say? How about you give me your number? Just in case I need it, y’know, for emergencies.”

He’s relentless, isn’t he?

Heat creeps up your neck as you blink from his boldness—with a soft, incredulous laugh, you desperately try to find your footing again.

“You really don’t give up, do you?”

That familiar and confident gleam glistens in his eyes as his grin widens.

“Not when it comes to someone as interesting as you.”

There’s a flicker of something in your chest—a flutter that you’re quick to squash.

“Mmm… sorry,” you murmur, tone sweet but firm. “But I don’t think you’re ready for that kind of disappointment. I’m really not interested in players.”

For the briefest moment, his grin falters, and something unreadable flashes behind his eyes—a momentary crack in his facade. It’s so quick, so subtle, that you almost miss it. But there’s just enough time to wonder if maybe you hit a nerve.

Still, Satoru recovers in an instant, his playful charm sliding back into place like nothing happened.

“That’s cold, y/n,” his voice light and teasing, though there’s a trace of something deeper, almost wounded, lurking beneath. “You really think I’m that kind of guy?”

Tilting your head slightly, you cross your arms over your chest as you study him—gaze sharp but not unkind.

“Yeah, well, I’ve met enough guys like you to know how this works.”

With a soft chuckle, and a smooth, almost lazy motion, he lowers his sunglasses from where they’re perched atop his head—resting them back on the bridge of his nose as the dark lenses now obscure his eyes from you.

He’s hiding behind them—letting them do the work of shielding his real thoughts. Huh. Typical behavior for someone who enjoys the chase but avoids real vulnerability.

“You’re quick to judge. I’m just a guy who knows what he wants. And right now? I just want your number.”

Classic deflection—you think. He’s not even denying it. Still... something about the way he says it makes that familiar flutter stir in your chest, and you hate it.

“Yeah... that’s not happening,” crossing your arms more tightly, you try to maintain control of the situation.

His hands come up in mock surrender as a small, amused sigh slips from his lips.

“Bummer,” he concedes, though there’s no real disappointment in his tone, only amusement. “But hey,” he picks up the drumsticks from the counter, “offer’s on the table if you ever change your mind.”

“Right... I’ll keep that in mind,” you dryly reply, knowing full well that you won’t.

“Please do,” he shoots back with that infuriatingly confident grin. “Besides, I’ll be seeing you around, water fountain girl.”

The familiar nickname brings an unwanted warmth that you attempt to shake off.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Gojo.”

But Satoru just steps back toward the door, exuding that same unshakeable confidence. “Oh, I’m not worried,” he says with a cocky smirk. “You’re predictable, remember? I know exactly where to find you.”

You open your mouth, ready to fire back with something witty, but before you can, he’s already halfway out the door, twirling the drumsticks between his fingers with effortless ease.

“See ya around, y/n,” he calls over his shoulder, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft jingle before you even have a chance to respond.

And just like that, the store feels quiet again, as if the air shifted back to normal now that he’s gone. You stand there for a moment, blinking at the closed door. You should feel relieved that he’s gone, that the exchange is over, but instead, you’re left with this strange, restless feeling you can’t quite shake.

What the hell just happened?

Shaking your head, you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. There’s a part of you that’s frustrated—frustrated at how easily he slipped under your skin, how effortlessly he managed to unsettle you with nothing but a grin and a few flirtatious remarks.

You hate that you’re even thinking about it. About him. He’s just another guy with too much confidence for his own good.

But something about the brief crack in his facade sticks with you. That fleeting moment where his grin faltered, and something else—something almost vulnerable—flickered behind those cocky blue eyes.

What was that?

With another shake of your head, you push the thought aside. He’s a flirt. A player. The kind of guy who never takes anything seriously.

That’s all there is to it.

You don’t have time to psychoanalyze every flippant guy who crosses your path, even if there’s a part of you that’s still curious.

Just as you’re about to shake off the thoughts entirely, your phone buzzes in your pocket, snapping you out of your daze. You pull it out, glancing down at the screen.

Kyoko: Hey sweetie, just wanted to let you know your mom's been having a rough day today. She’s more confused than usual, keeps asking for you. Maybe you could visit soon?”

Reality crashes back in—grounding you in the weight of your responsibilities.

With a sigh, you run a hand through your hair, already mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead.

You: Thanks for the update, Aunt Kyoko. My shift is almost over, I’ll be home soon.

Focus. There’s no room for distractions—not right now.

Not with Satoru Gojo. Not with anyone.

a/n. thanks for reading the debut of bomh (or i guess the re-debut since this is a rewrite? hehe). i'm excited to explore a lot of topics in this fic, and rewriting it definitely helped rekindle my passion for this story. so, i'm looking forward with whats to come! hope ya'll enjoyed 💕 → you are currently all caught up ♪

taglist:

@gojoslefttoenail @satoryaa @ninjaturtletoes @murtabuckz @sorcerersseestars

@reagan707 @sakurasimppp @sugxryratz @tkyemfk @lovelyjkook

@lovebittenbyevans @kaemaybae @bloopsstuff

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watcherintheweyr · 5 months

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'Rhaenyra is a bad mom bc she knowingly gave birth to bastards and she knew how much danger they'd be in!!!!'

1. She had no way of knowing those babies wouldn't pop out looking exactly like her, beforehand. And unfortunately she couldn't stop at Jace. The throne needed an heir. Driftmark needed an heir. And a spare was needed as well, given the sheer rate of Targaryen children dying untimely deaths.

2. She had to provide heirs to the throne, and to Driftmark. If she hadn't, society wouldn't have blamed Laenor, they would have blamed her- which makes her position even more unstable, bc then she 'can't fulfill a woman's duty' so why would men think her 'able' to fill a 'man's role' by ruling the kingdom? And she and Laenor tried. He was either unable (meaning infertile or impotent, or unable to get it up), or unwilling. (And they did try. We dont know what they tried but Rhaenyra is shown to be clever in the show so honestly i have no doubt she attempted what Margaery suggested with Renly.) Laenor was in on the entire thing. He was aware of every part of this. He wasn't duped, he wasn't cuckholded- it was a plan greenlit by him, bc this way he and Rhaenyra would both have their heirs and a family. This cannot in any way shape or form be compared to Cersei cuckholding Robert (fuck Robert Baratheon tho), seeing as Robert was **not** at all aware that his children weren't his, and wouldn't have been OK with that.

Either way- she chose not to maritally r*pe her husband and put him through more trauma after it was clear their attempts weren't working. Yall are always so upset for Alicent (rightfully so, bc show!alicent was maritally raped, even if it wasn't considered as such in that time), but you... WANT Rhaenyra to do that to Laenor? Hello???

[And no. Rhaenyra did NOT rape or coerce Criston Cole. The actors, writers, and directors have all stated their sex was consensual and 'an act of love.' It was Rhaenyra going to someone she felt close to and trusted after feeling abandoned and unwanted and betrayed. In that scene you literally watch, as after Cole tells Rhaenyra to stop undressing herself, she moves aside so she isn't blocking his way to the door. The director states that the moment they show Cole folding and setting down his cloak was him choosing his desire over his oaths. And Criston Cole has known Rhaenyra since she was 14. He knew damn well the sort of person she was- and she was not the person who would have harmed him for saying no. She was an intoxicated and emotionally vulnerable 19 year old- Criston was in his late 20s to early 30s. And it's explicitly stated in ep.9 that the ONLY person a Kingsguard cannot refuse is the king. In ep.7 Criston disobeys a direct order from Alicent when she wants him to mutilate Lucerys. Criston Cole was not assaulted. Stop trying to assign Aegon's sins to Rhaenyra so that you can feel better for supporting him.]

3. In the books, the rumors of their bastardry at large halted when all of Rhaenyra's boys' cradle eggs hatched. The ONLY people who continued to try and raise issue were the core green faction. But the realm at large *did not give a fuck* why? Because every actually relevant party claimed those boys. Repeatedly and without flinching. Laenor claimed and loved those boys even face to face with Alicent's bullshit. Corlys claimed and love those boys- he was proud of them, and it's been stated by the actor in the show that Luke was his favorite- that given the... events of ep.10, Corlys will be out for blood. And Viserys repeatedly insisted upon their legitimacy- because Laenor and Corlys claimed them, because he knew that by forcing Rhaenyra to marry Laenor in order to repair the damage his insults caused House Velaryon, that he had backed her into a corner.

Rhaenyras boys are remembered to history as Velaryon. Even **Green supporters** noted that they were good, capable, intelligent, and **worthy** princes. That their deaths were unfortunate *for the realm.*

Legally, those boys are legitimate. They cannot be proven illegitimate without Laenor renouncing them, and he never did. Furthermore, trying to declare children illegitimate due to their appearance is a stupid, dangerous precedent. The fact that it's people who have no ties to House Velaryon pushing these rumors and pushing for disinheritance makes it even worse, because they're meddling in the succession of a House that *is not theirs.* if that became a standard, imagine the feuds and conflicts that would erupt- lords pushing for the children of rivals to be declared illegitimate all for the sake of trying to grasp and steal land, power, and influence as a norm? The realm would tear itself apart. Not to mention the sheer danger that would place women in, in Westeros.

Furthermore, even whilst usurping her, even while calling her children bastards, the Greens also imply Laenor's homosexuality was inherited by the Velaryon princes- that they would use Rhaenyra's 'promiscuity' and Laenor's 'predilections' to turn the Red Keep into a brothel- ironic, considering that's more what Aegon would've done. So even while claiming that Rhaenyras children are bastards that shouldn't inherit, they try to state that what the boys inherit or learn from Laenor makes them unfit for the throne. They can't keep their own damn story straight- because their usurpation was never about what is moral, what is right, or the greater good. It was about greed. Power. Sexism.

It doesn't matter what those boys looked like, especially seeing as Rhaenys had dark hair in the books. What matters is that Corlys and Laenor and Viserys claimed them and declared them legitimate, and that they **never** deviated from that.

As for Vaemond, he was a second son. And he waited until Corlys and Viserys were dying and too ill to stop him to make a grasp for power. Youre not supposed to look at that and feel hes in the right. Youre supposed to look at that and see a man consumed by greed, and literally trying to bury Corlys' will and intentions before the man is even in a grave. He was NEVER Corlys' heir- he just wanted power. It wasn't about his House, or their legacy, it was about him.

(And before yall start shit about Rhaenyras boys stealing Laena's girls' inheritance... Rhaena and Baela are *TARGARYEN*. Not Velaryon. Their claim was to the throne or to any holdings in Daemon's name. NOT to Driftmark.)

Rhaenyras boys being betrothed to Rhaena and Baela tied up any issue of 'Velaryon blood.' Baela would have been queen consort of the seven kingdoms at Jace's side, and they very clearly adored one another in book and show. Rhaena would have been Lady of the Tides- which she never would have had a chance for, without Rhaenyra (and Laena) making those betrothals. She and Luke were also canonically very close- and in show she's very encouraging of him whenever he looks nervous or uncertain. They had a bond.

Rhaenyra stole nothing. She gave those girls more. And she loved them- they were the only daughters she got to have, seeing as the Greens treachery caused the early death of baby Visenya. If she hadn't loved them, she wouldn't have trusted Rhaena to look after Joffrey or give her Morning's egg from Syrax. She wouldn't have immediately invited both girls to the table when she was queen, which is something her father did not do for her until much, much later. He allowed Rhaenyra's voice to be silenced too often when she was first made heir. Rhaenyra did not repeat that hurt to her girls or her boys.

Anyways, moving on.

You lot do also remember that Rhaenyra herself has Velaryon blood, right? Jaehaerys I's mother was Alyssa Velaryon. Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya the Conquerors' mother was Valaena Velaryon. It's not immediate, but there *is* Velaryon blood through *all* of Rhaenyras boys.

Ultimately, Rhaenyras boys were only in danger because of the core Green faction usurping the throne. If they hadnt- no succession crisis or rebellion could have truly threatened Rhaenyras boys- because none of them would have had dragons. All of Rhaenyras children loved one another- her sons by Daemon would not have turned on her sons with Laenor (and Harwin). They were a true, loving family- possibly one of the healthiest and most close knit one House Targaryen ever boasted.

And another thing... 'her having babies with Harwin was stupid, she should have picked someone Valyrian!'

Here's the thing. Rhaenyra had to be careful as hell choosing who would father her and Laenor's heirs. She had to choose someone who was physically close, and who could be trusted. Someone who wouldn't try to publicly claim those boys in boast or jealousy. Someone who would keep their mouth shut and had no ambition of their own in regards to the throne. Do you really think Vaemond Velaryon (as I see him suggested a lot) would've kept his mouth shut? That he wouldn't have tried to use this to blackmail Rhaenyra and Laenor for more power and status? Do you think Rhaenys would have ever fought for or supported Rhaenyra if Rhaenyra had tried to have Corlys sire her children? And flying to see Daemon in Pentos and having a purely Valyrian child 9 months later would have made things look even more suspect.

Furthermore... she chose someone who cared for her deeply. Who clearly had a positive relationship with Laenor. She chose someone so she wouldn't have to traumatize herself- she took power over her body in a way almost no Westerosi woman has ever been able to. They were a family unit- Rhaenyra, Laenor, and Harwin. Those children were loved and cherished by two fathers and their mother. They were raised never doubting their mothers love, nor their father's- either father. They were raised and educated to be true, good princes of the realm.

Rhaenyra fought like hell for her children. She was an incredible mother. Yall just believe everything the Green faction says without looking at it critically, and that's unfortunate as hell.

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tothepointofinsanity · 19 days

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Sayaka Miki is a character whose, depending on who you ask, either her primary or secondary role, is walking the path of a volatile teenage girl who does not understand the way the world works, much less one involving magic, and denied grace from others because of her reactive nature. Of course it is relatable that a character who needs an abundance of understanding and compassion is also one who harshly rejects it; there was no tangible way for Sayaka to accept such a gesture when she was cornered by her own ideals and afraid of the ensuing shame with admittance that she is Wrong. Because things that are wrong to Sayaka cannot be written off as “okay”.

In any case, it’s self-loathing for her failures as a protective figure, a concept incompatible with her prior grasp on goodness, power, and responsibility. The vilification of her character as an unnecessarily angry girl due to heartbreak is not wholly inaccurate, but does not cover the underlying problems she carries as presented by the narrative. Most of her issues are birthed from her clinging to what is most acceptable to others, but her actions do not reflect these qualities, and she was never taught how to reconcile this dichotomy in herself, far too entrenched by her perception that the world of potential and magic she admired so deeply has betrayed her, and when magic isn’t enough to solve problems and they come in physical forms of people frowning upon her methods, I do not think there was ever a chance she could have properly internalised all those aspects together.

Some people are actually ashamed or bashful to admit that they find such a character relatable because of her flaws, but these flaws are realistic precisely as they are unacceptable by others in this world. Trying to be an exceptional human when you keep stumbling, both in actions and words, pretending to be someone you are not - that is why the mermaid returns to the sea.

#Sayaka Archives

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fantasywater · 21 days

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These are the reasons Stolas Horseman still gets dragged for his infidelity even though the circus was supposed to FIX THAT.

This is for Stolas's Western Entergy interpretation and for the fans who agree with it:

Stolas is an adulterer.

No one gets to change the definition of a word just because they don't like it being said about their favorite character.

He's a domestic abuse survivor and an adulterer. Both are true.

The reason Stolas still gets criticism is because of the execution of how it was written and the Octavia factor.

We were introduced to Stolas and Stella's dynamic with her being pissed that her husband of at least seventeen years cheated on her.

That anger is empathy-inducing to a lot of people because being cheated on, or knowing someone who has, is a relatable experience. It also looks extra disgusting on the one who stepped out when a family is involved.

Even her throwing things at him could be excused because of the context in which it was happening.

There's a reason why temporary insanity is welcome in legal circles because it gives leeway to the perpetrator in that it asks the question would they have done this awful thing if it wasn't for an extreme mental break forcing them to?

Stolas's infidelity was that mental break.

Trying to kill him can also fall comfortably under temporary insanity.

Plus having our protagonists kill innocents as a job also takes the bite out of it.

It also doesn't help that both Stolas and Stella's voice actors gave their own explanations that pretty much stated what I said above.

Even our first episode was about a cheated-on woman going to extremes, but she was shown in a sympathetic light despite it.

Yet the very next episode shows the same issue, but because Stolas is a main character we are supposed to fall in line that the adulterer is whose side we should be on.

Octavia having a mental breakdown(twice now) because of Stolas's infidelity is also not endearing him to the audience.

What he is doing to his child is the biggest reason why his remorseless, continuous, infidelity is not a take-back-my-power move.

The inciting incident for both Stella's recurrent violent anger and death "threats", as well as Octavia's mental breaks, is Stolas's cheating. Therefore what is happening to him now is a consequence of his own actions.

The writing in the problem. We were introduced to a wife and daughter showing anger in different ways because a spouse and father betrayed their family, and yet Viv still expects us to feel sympathetic to Stolas.

In reality, Stolas is the antagonist of Stella, Octavia, and Blitz.

That role was especially blatant in Loolooland.

As for Stella Viv tried to course correct by being heavy-handed in showing her as a cartoonish monster in The Circus.

However, because of the initial execution of writing her as a scorned wife due to her remorseless, repeatedly cheating husband for a whole season, she has forever poisoned the well for Stolas and she has no one to blame for that but herself.

She is the one who wrote one of her supposedly sympathetic main characters doing Sexual Extortion(Blitz), Adultery(Stella), Mental Break/Child Neglect(Octavia), but then seems to have an issue when a nice chunk of the fandom still thinks only his victims deserve sympathy.

Nevertheless, since the Circus is in the canon now does Stolas owe Stella loyalty and remorse? No.

However, Stolas is not just a husband. Octavia exists.

Therefore Octavia will always be the reason why his (continuous) infidelity was a selfish and vile act.

That's also why what's going to happen to him in the leaks is on him.

His karma warranty is up.

The problem is that the karma Viv gives is an illusion because she still wants you to feel sorry for Stolas. That's why there's always a sturdy flavor of demonization in the narrative toward anyone he's harmed to facilitate that.

However, considering the nature of his crimes his comeuppance is deserved, but she still writes like it's not and expects the audience to fall in line.

She also did the same thing with Blitz's issues with him.

So it's a pattern, and it exists because a fujoshi is writing this story.

It's a failure in the execution when the author's intent and the audience's takeaway is this broken.

#helluva boss critical #anti stolas #helluva boss octavia #helluva boss stella #helluva boss blitzo #anti vivziepop #helluva boss

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amomentsescape · 8 months

Note

Can I request a Yandere Slashers with an S/O like Patrick Bateman (She is a rich narcissist, arrogant with others, always treating others as if they were inferior, but with the slashers she is sweeter, always showing affection for them)

Yandere! Slashers with Patrick Bateman-esque Reader

Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

Warnings: Some foul language

A/N: I love this request! Thank you, and I hope you like it! (No mentions of Reader pronouns in the fic itself)

Freddy Krueger

Honestly, Freddy finds it pretty funny (like most things)

He too is an asshole to pretty much anyone other than you

So together, you make quite the duo

He won't admit it, but there are times where you're honestly kind of scary

The way you can say the most traumatizing thing to someone without so much as blinking has him a little frazzled

Even he chuckles or shows some type of emotion

But when you're both alone, it becomes a different story

It's the only time he sees you smile and really relax

To think that you'd so much as hug someone is insane, but Freddy gets to see that side to you

It honestly just makes him trust you more

Knowing that he's the only one you're actually nice to puts his mind at ease

It's even gotten to the point where he feels comfortable letting you have some freedom during the day

He's still watching, of course, but he knows he has nothing to worry about

Michael Myers

He's probably the most similar to you out of everyone you've ever met

(It's why he became attached to you in the first place)

Seeing you say the most evil things to people without showing any emotion, and using your money just for yourself stirred something in him

And it still does

The connection was so immediate that he learned to trust you pretty quickly

He still likes to follow you whenever he gives you some "alone time"

But what originally started out as trust issues soon turned into entertainment

He likes seeing you move so confidently about your day and scaring all those around you

The way your presence alone silences a room is enchanting to him

And since he doesn't really like to go out much during the day, he gets to live vicariously through you

And when you come home with a smile and a quick kiss, it secretly melts him

You are perfect for him

Jason Voorhees

When he first got to you, his ability to trust you was hardly there

You seemed so cold and uncaring

It seemed impossible for you to return his feelings

But over time, he began to see you show more kindness and affection towards him

He was confused and just assumed that you were trying to gain his trust so you could leave him

But then he saw how you acted when he "wasn't" around

Whatever side he got to see of you wasn't the side you showed to everyone else

Because of this, you began to make him feel special

And his walls came crumbling down the as soon as they were put up

You spoil him, in his opinion

Lavish gifts, kisses, genuine laughs, and just overall attention has Jason melting in your hands

He honestly doesn't even care if it's just an act anymore

He's addicted to how special you make him feel

Plus, there's no way he's ever going to let you go anyways

Thomas Hewitt

It came as quite the shock when you were actually nice to him

He was enamored by you, clearly

But he saw the way to treated others as below you

It was a risk for him to take you as his in the first place

But when he noticed the little gleam in your eyes while looking at him, he knew he was locked in for good

He lets you initiate the affection most of the time, and he'll never say no to you

He even feels pretty comfortable letting you go into town and do what you want

He knows how you act around others, so there's no doubt in his mind that you wouldn't try to betray him

Plus, he loves the gifts you come home with after a day out

He's never owned anything nice before, so he truly feels like he's in heaven with you

You just can't ever act cold towards him

Even if he does something to anger you, you can't lash out

He will not hesitate to lock you in your shared room for the whole day if he sees it necessary

He likes your cold demeanor only when it's not directed at him

The moment it is, he will become immediately wounded

Bubba Sawyer

This poor man doesn't know any difference

You could step on his face and he'd be giggling

So he barely even notices your sour attitude with other people

He just thinks you're perfect no matter what you say or do

You can literally see hearts in his pupils when he looks at you

But thankfully, you actually enjoy your time with Bubba

The simplest touch or compliment given by you has Bubba kicking his feet and blushing

And when other people are around, you could call them the meanest name in the book, and he'd just be all smiley and giddy

He really is all around innocent

However, this sweetness only lasts for as long as you stay in the house with him

If you need to grab some things from the store or want to walk around by yourself for a bit, it comes with a price

He will beg, cry, and plead with you to stay

It doesn't matter how cold and uncaring you are with everyone else, he doesn't want you going anywhere

But if you insist, expect him to be pouty and silent around you for the rest of the day

But don't worry, by morning it's like it never even happened

Brahms Heelshire

Your calm and callous demeanor only fuels Brahms possessiveness

He loves how cruel you can be with others

And the money you have is fitting to him (having been raised a rich boy himself)

He'd prefer if you didn't interact with anyone at all, but he supposes your hatefulness makes up for that

Oh but when you come home with a big smile and arms outstretched for a hug, he becomes putty

He'll hold you for hours without so much as a motion to move

He loves that he's the only one that gets to see you like this

But just be careful

Brahms likes making up situations in his head

If he thinks you so much as blinked one too many times around someone, he will go berserk

He loves that you're cruel to everyone but him, but if he's having an off day, it's easy for him to see things that didn't actually happen

And once he has that thought in his head, it's hard to convince him otherwise

If he thinks you weren't being cold enough to someone, he will not hesitate to lock them in the house and place you right in front of them, making you do the dirty work

It doesn't faze you much thankfully, but it can become a bit annoying

Especially when your $800 shoes get blood on them

Norman Bates

Kindness is the number one policy in Mother's book

So he really isn't a fan on how you treat other people

Treating other's cruelly and not even attempting to share your wealth is all immoral in Norman's mind

He's tried having so many conversations to you about how you should be kinder

But his voice always falls on deaf ears

You'd think he'd be sick of it by now

But the main reason he can't give you up is because of how sweet you are towards him

You litter him with affection and sweet words

You gift him with just about everything he's ever wanted

He knows it's wrong, but he's addicted to how you make him feel

Could it all be an act on your part? Sure

But he barely cares, to be honest

He knows you'll be the death of him, but he truly can't imagine a better way to go out

Billy Loomis

He hates to admit it, but he finds it oh so sexy

You're quick with your words, and the slight raise of a brow is all it takes for someone to crumble to their knees around you

The control you have is awe-inspiring to him

And the fact that you become his little love bug at home only makes it more exciting

Seeing you go from rude and cruel one moment to sweet and kind the next keeps things interesting for Billy

He truly believes that most of humanity doesn't deserve the attention of people like you or him

You're both too good for them

With that being said, Billy's "body count" has gone up drastically since he claimed you

You're mean to someone? They deserve to die

You're a little too nice to a guy? He had it coming

Someone so much as bumps into you on the street? They'll be gone by the end of the night

He swears you're making him even crazier than before

But God, he loves it

Stu Macher

Look, Stu is all about hating other people

As lighthearted and goofy as he is, he really can't stand a lot of people

The amount of times he's murdered some stranger over and over again in his mind is outrageous

So he gets it

But at the same time, suspicion easily arises from people who see how outwardly cold you are

He's asked you time and time again to "lighten up," but it never changes anything

Which is why he's always so astounded by how you are when you both are alone

You laugh at all of his jokes, you plant his face full of kisses, and you even share his love for horror films

How you act with him is how he wishes you'd act in public

But at the same time, he kind of likes how two-sided you are

There's a part of him that loves being the only one who receives your kindness

It just makes it taste that much more sweet to him

And to be honest, if you ever did act nice to someone other than him, his whole mind would go dark

And you'd never hear from that person again

Vincent Sinclair

Contrary to what many people would assume, Vincent enjoys your callousness towards others

He hasn't come across many people during his life, but those he has met have always shown him nothing but disgust and hatred

Even his own brothers have ridiculed him and ordered him around like he was a slave (mostly Bo, but Lester has had his moments)

This only fueled a true hatred for most of humanity

It's a large part of the reason he set his sights on you in the first place

You stirred something in him, and he knew there was no going back from that feeling

But the way you acted around him was quite the surprise

You spoke so softly to him and touched him like you were a true angel on earth

You made him feel so special in a way that no one else had

There's no way he was ever going to let you go

It just feels so nice to have someone on his team for once

Your glare is so cold that even Bo doesn't want anything to do with you

Vincent has gotten his first taste of respect, and he only wants more

Bo Sinclair

He's always wanted his partner to have a little fire to them

But damn, you were a hell of a lot more than just a flame

He was drawn to you like a moth, and seeing how mesmerizing yet cruel you could be was like the total package to him

Anytime you told someone off, he'd just be standing back saying "that's my darlin' right there"

And at first, he didn't want to believe that you were being genuine when you cuddled up to him or gave him a passionate kiss on the lips

He thought is was all a game, and he was happy to play

But after some time being met with this affection, he soon became convinced that maybe you actually did return his infatuation

And that opened up a whole new world

He loves to take you to a night out in the next town over, showing you off

And between the money he's stolen off of visitors and the riches you have in tow, you both splurge on each other like crazy

This is quite literally a dream relationship

And with how manipulative you could be, the wax museum was booming more than ever

He'd be dead before he'd let you leave

Lester Sinclair

He finds your arrogance and cruelty a little unnecessary at times

But he doesn't ever push you too hard on it

As long as you're nice to him, that's all that matters

In fact, he lets you do what you want whenever you want it

You could walk all over him, and he'd still thank you for it

However, escaping him will never be an option

You're his, and your happiness is his number one priority

Just so long it involves being with him

But he grew to trust you pretty quickly

You're just so kind and loving towards him that he can't imagine you ever leaving him

It just doesn't make sense, right?

Even if you did try to leave, all you have to do is give him a big kiss, and he'd forgive you

Just don't talk to other people for too long

Even if you're saying the most hateful things to them, that attention alone is enough to make Lester insecure

If you want to spew anger at someone, he'll happily take it

Your attention is all he desires after all, good or bad

615 notes · View notes

zvtara-was-never-canon · 8 months

Note

I believe Aang was right to end the war by sparing Ozai. But the only (imho) valid reason some people say he should have done it is because they wanted Aang to realize that pacifism is flawed.

I'm gonna disagree with you here, because a lot of the flaws fans talk about pacism and how ATLA in particular handles it as a concept are 99%:

1 - People being ignorant/racist and not knowing the difference between pacifist monks and "make love, not war" hippies.

2 - People being ignorant/racist and refusing to understand that there are different kinds of pacifism, even within the same cultures/people groups.

Aang is very clearly not the type of pacifist to go "You can NEVER react with ANY kind of violence towards someone else, even if it's to defend yourself/someone else" (which does exist, both IRL and in the show, just look at the owl spirit in "The Library").

We see him fight, and even be quite aggressive in said fights, in a lot of episodes. We also see he has no issues with invading the Fire Nation. More importantly, for the longest time the Avatar State was a result of him being pissed off enough at some kind of injustice that it makes him lose control, meaning he is very clearly affected by the horrors of war to the point of RAGE.

What makes him a pacifist is the way in which he doesn't WANT to lose control, doens't WANT go from aggressive to full on cruel, and, yes, wants to defeat his enemies, but not kill them.

And as I keep repeating, the show DOES make him question that last boundary he set for himself. He gets told by a past Avatar, who was also an air-nomad before anything, that, when there is such a large threat to everyone's life, including his own, he has to put aside his own spiritual needs and take a life - provided there isn't another option. But there was, so Aang took that, even after he decided that, yes, if there was no other way, he WOULD kill Ozai.

What people don't like is that Avatar, although questioning some types of pacifism, is far more interested in questioning the way people are WAY too eager to use violence to solve their issues, and, more importantly, expect someone else to get their hands bloody.

Fire Lord Sozin starts the war because he, according to himself at least, wants what's best for everyone and would like to share the Fire Nation's glory and great life with the other nations. He tries to do by invading foreign territories, killing his best friend, and commiting genocide. The fucker even has the dragons, an obvious Fire Nation symbol, to be hunted to extintion.

When Jet is angry at the Gaang for ruining his plan to free a village from the Fire Nation's control by blowing up a dam, Sokka asks "Who would be free? Everyone would be dead."

Zuko is banished because he spoke out against a Fire Nation higher-up's plan to use soldiers as fresh meat to bait the enemy into a more vulnerable position, thus assuring the nation's victory in that battle. He openly says "These men love and defend our nation, how can you betray them?"

When Zhao wants to kill the moon spirit, Iroh tries to stop him by pointing out that the Fire Nation needs the moon too (seriously, if it wasn't for Yue's sacrifice and Zhao's death, the Fire Nation would have had to create a word for "Big-ass wave that wrecks everything and kills people" like Japan did).

When Aang is deliberately trying to trigger the Avatar State because he doesn't want anyone else to die in the war, Katara, who had her life ruined by said war, is against it because while she opposes the Fire Nation, she cares about Aang and, in her own words, seeing him in so much pain and rage hurts her too. When Aang can't force himself to go nuclear, an Earth Kingdom ruler attacks Katara and makes both her and Aang, two very traumatized child soldiers, think he is going to kill her.

More importantly, when Ozai wants to burn down Earth Kingdom cities, he says "A new world will rise from the ashes, and I'll be supreme ruler of everything", to which Zuko concludes that, if they don't save the world before his dad takes over, there won't be a world to save.

And what does he say to Aang when he is about to kill him? "You're weak, just like your people. They didn't deserve to live in world, in my world."

Avatar does questions pacifism, and is critical of it on ocasion (again, watch "The Library"). But it's biggest theme is being critical of VIOLENCE, of resorting to it immediately without considering any other option and acting like it doesn't have long-lasting negative consequences, both to the person suffering it to the person inflicting it (see Azula's breakdown, Zuko's angry outburts only making him more miserable, Jeong Jeong growing to resent being a firebender, Zhao accidentally burning his own ships, etc)

The show is constantly highlighting that, yes, sacrifices need to be made for the greater good - but that CAN'T be normalized because it inevitably leads to a never-ending cicle of cruelty, as well as suffering to the one who has to do the dirty job (because lets not forget there's a big difference in how a soldier that is constantly in battle sees the war and how a king that just gives the orders but never goes into the actual combat sees the war).

The show embraces pacifism, despite knowing some versions of it are flawed, because the narratives themes are:

1 - EVERYONE is capable of great good and great evil

2 - No group has the right to impose it's own lifestyle onto others

3 - If everyone is either dead, mentally (and physically) scarred for life, or preparing to kill someone as revenge, then being killed by someone who wants to avenge that person, who will themselves be killed for revenge later, then the "greater good" you're sacrificing everything for doesn't actually exist because NO ONE will have a good life in a world that is stuck in the cicle of violence.

#pro aang #aang defense squad #aang deserved better #respect aang or die by my sword

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barrenclan · 1 month

Note

Ok so I adore basically everything about the most recent issue but my absolute favoritest thing is Slugpelt's section because like. Despite everything a part of her is still grieving over him. It doesn't undermine her anger if anything it probably adds to it but it still hurts so much more than if the betrayal wasn't there

There's a lot of loaded behavior in four short panels for Slugpelt and Rainhaze. He betrayed her horribly, murdered her daughter, and joined the villains attacking her. But he is never going to stop being her brother, no matter how much she wishes he could be. He's never going to stop being the person who held her when she was little while she cried. It's completely impossible for her to separate those two parts of him in her mind. Pinepaw also struggles with this;

Because Rainhaze was such a different person in very formative parts of both of their lives, there is just a part of them that will never be able to fully let that image of him go. And being aware of that is horribly painful, because they want to hate him so badly and simply for what he's done.

Slugpelt also has extra complicated feelings because of her relationship to Dustfeather and Rainhaze. Without going off on rambling tangents, the emotional abuse she endured while growing up led her to form an idea in her head of herself as the "broken one", while Rainhaze was the "good one". Despite how fragile she felt herself, she could always rely on him to be the one who had everything together - no matter if she resented or appreciated him for it, depending on what she was going through. But if Rainhaze was actually just as "broken", what does that make her?

Slugpelt doesn't think of herself as good, or whole, or happy. Dustfeather's parenting constantly posed them as opposites to each other, Rainhaze doing everything "good" while she did everything "bad". That dichotomy became a part of her fundamental understanding of who she is as a person. But if things have been so rapidly, utterly destroyed, she's left on shaky foundations while still trying to build and mend relationships with other people, like her children. Rainhaze was such an importat part of her life that him being torn out of it leaves her unsure of what to even think. Does that make both of them "broken"? Who's she supposed to be now?

#ask #anon #slugpelt #rainhaze #can you tell slugpelt is my favorite character

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raya-hunter01 · 4 months

Text

Not My Sister's Keeper Pt. 5

Roman X OC(Kara)

Jey Uso X OC (Tia)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy

Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.

What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?

A Month Later

Roman’s House

“Mama, you saw it for yourself, she slept with Jey,” I said trying to escape her wrath.

“Son, your actions caused that chain reaction, and Tia living here isn’t helping your case to get your wife back either,” my mom said washing the dishes as I fed Logan her bottle.

“Mama, Logan needs her.”

“Logan needs her like I need an enema. She doesn’t even want that baby; she barely interacts with her. How could you let this happen?” she asked as I wished the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

“Mama, I stopped it, I knew I was wrong.”

“But, it took six times sleepin’ with this girl for you to realize that, and then you lied to me. Roman, I didn’t raise you this way,” my mother scolded as I sighed taking my tongue lashing from her.

“Mama, I was gon’ tell you, I just didn’t know how,” I said as she sat down beside me.

“You start by telling the truth….I said some mean things to Kara going off how you were acting. Like when was you going to tell me that you had a child with Kara’s sister.”

“I…I was going to fix it all. I wanted her to be Logan’s stepmom.. I was going to make it right, then I saw red. She let him have her mama, my wife did that,” I said still in shock that Kara took it that far and slept with Jey.

“Roman, you can’t take a child away from her mother and give it to another woman, thinking it will fix the issue. Kara is hurt…Her husband and sister betrayed her, that’s a hard pill to swallow.”

“But look at what she did, like really out of all people it just had to be him. Why would she do that?” I asked, truly wanting to know why.

“To make sure she hurt you deeper than you hurt her, and it worked. Tore you up so bad you ordered a new bus. Got you walkin’ round here like you on life support,” my mom said, my jaw twitched just thinking about them together.

“Then you got that girl sleepin’ here, trying to get her hooks in you.”

“Mama, I ain’t-”

“I don’t care, if you want to try to work on your marriage, Tia gotta go. Her being here is showing Kara you didn’t take your marriage seriously and its disrespectful.”

“Mama, she has nobody-”

“That’s a lie, she got a mama, and a daddy. Tia’s mother was going stay with her for a month to help out with the baby. Rebecca told me, but Tia turned her down. I’m telling you Roman, get her outta here before something bad happens, son”.

“Mama, I tried to talk to Kara, but she’s been ignoring me. She just sits in mediation staring a hole through me,” I said trying to get her to understand.

“Try harder, tell her what happened so there is no more secrets and hopefully ya’ll can get back on track. Whatever the outcome you owe her, and you know you do.”

“Mama, her sleepin’ wit Jey hurt me bad.” I said pleading my case as she threw her hands up in the air as I frowned at her. Kinda pissed she ain’t more on my side…I am her son.

“Roman, you’re not thinking about what you’ve done to Kara. I swear you are just like your daddy, can dish it out but can’t take it. Go to mediation today and be truthful with her,” she said leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Over the last month Tia being here has been hell. She won’t help with Logan, it’s almost like it’s no bond between them and that is insane to me.

It’s been all me and mama, so I know I’m in this alone.

Hearing her come downstairs I rolled my eyes. “Morning my logan,” she said kissing logan on the forehead as Logan begins to fuss.

“Roman, I’m glad you’re still here. I thought you had left for the show, she said extra giddy. She really was trying to push something that was never going to be. My mom was right, she needed to go.

“Uh, no I got to go sign for the new bus and I got mediation today,” I said as Tia shot me a look.

“Oh, you’re still trying to beat that dead horse,” she said smartly rolling her eyes as I stood up walking towards her. “Um, what are you doing Roman?” Tia asked worriedly as I placed Logan in her arms. “Letting you bond with your daughter, because she has two parents and not just one,” I said leaving a fussing Logan with her.

“Roman, take her to your mom!” Tia cried as I kept walking, ignoring her.... I had bigger fish to fry.

“Make sure you’re gone by 1:00, my mama is taking Logan to your parents and you to get groceries for your house. I need you gone; Kara is stopping by to get some of her things!” I yelled as I heard her mutter under her breath.

Going upstairs I ran into mom. “Why didn’t you bring the baby to me? I ain’t gon’ listen to Logan cry all day because you left her with the devil,” she said as I snickered.

“Mama, she’s gotta try to bond with her,” I said giving her a hug before I went to get dressed.

----------

Bently Law and Associates

Kara’s POV

“I know you, nor her better be there when I get there,” I whispered as Roman nodded.

“My mom is dropping Logan off at your parents. Ma, can vouch for me,” he said pointing at my mother as she nodded.

“Yeah, Roman called last night and asked us to keep Logan," my mom said as I sighed, not really caring.

“Then my mom is going to take Tia grocery shopping for some things for her house because she’s about to be going home. After this, I gotta go finalize the deal on my new bus.”

“I don’t care where Tia goes, as long as she ain’t there when I’m there,” I said irritated.

All he had to say was she wasn’t going to be there; I didn’t need an update on his baby mama drama.

“Nobody will be there sweetheart, I promise,” Roman said as I cringed at his use of his pet name for me.

“Please…Don’t do that,” I said as he threw his hands up and sat back in his seat.

Sitting there in silence, my brain finally caught up to the little information he revealed. He got a new bus…. Smirking I felt a sense of satisfaction knowing he couldn’t shake the image of Jey and I on the other bus.

You could feel the tension as we went to sat with our lawyers. Ten years of marriage, was coming down to being in this office on the 15th floor, sitting around this huge table negotiating assets.

Deven, a mutual friend of ours, who’s also a judge, sat at the end of the table serving as a mediator for us.

“Alright, let’s get started. I wished we were here under different circumstances, but I digress. Mr. Towns what is your client Mrs. Reigns asking for?” Deven asked as I leaned back in my chair trying to relax.

“My client doesn’t want any of her husband’s assets, she only wants a clean break,” my lawyer said as I saw Roman twitching his seat.

“Kara is you crazy? After all he’s done..The devil is a damn lie, she want it all!” my mom said as I tuned her out.

I was too focused on Roman, who had leaned over and was whispering something in his lawyer’s ear.

“Well, my client would like to try therapy before we go this route. It will look good to a judge that you guys tried and could push this along quicker in the end.”

“I want this over,” I said as Roman cleared his throat.

“I want to try to save our marriage,” Roman said as I shook my head.

“I would rather swallow nails and dance barefoot across hot coals,” I said as my mother slapped me on the arm.

“Girl, hush this about getting what you deserve. He owes this to you,” She hissed as I sighed, sitting back and allowing Roman’s lawyer to continue.

“My client wants to also pay for his wife’s medical school expenses.”

“What!” I exclaimed sitting up in my seat looking at my mom who shushed me. “Here him out baby,” she whispered as I took a deep breath.

Bitch, now you want me to go back to medical school, now you want to support my dreams.

“Like I was saying, we’ve come up with a total of 500,000 that she needs to complete her last two years of education.”

“That’s way too much?” I interrupted as his lawyer looked down at his sheet of paper reading his notes as Roman cracked a small smile.

“Always worried about me spending too much money instead of just letting me take care of you,” he muttered as I shot him a look.

“Kara, look at me.” Deven said as I turned, giving him my full attention feeling Roman’s eyes still on me.

“I talked to Roman and the price he came up with will help you with things you need such as your books, a Condo to stay in, and any necessities you may need.”

“Deven, it’s too much,” I whispered, totally thrown for a loop everything.

“Roman wants you to focus on school and not have to worry about taking up a job. He knew you were going to come in here and wouldn’t want anything from him, but he knows you deserve everything.” Deven said as fought back tears.

“Let him at least do that much, and hear him out,” Deven pleaded as I turned back to Roman and his lawyer, wanting to hear the rest of his offer as Roman sighed in relief before turning to his lawyer.

“Let her know what else we talked about Ryan?” Roman whispered pointing to his notepad as his lawyer looked over, shocked at whatever Roman had written on his paper.

“Are you sure Mr. Reigns? I said we could renegotiate that and bring it to the table later,” His lawyer whispered as Roman shook his head.

“She deserves it and I want her to have it regardless of if we work this out or not,” he whispered as I frowned at him.

“Uh, my client would also like to add an additional three million per year for Mrs. Reigns to do with as she pleases and upon graduation Mr. Reigns will donate ten million towards his wife’s own practice,” his lawyer said as I tried to process what he was offering…

“Jesus, Roman,” my mother said as Roman’s eyes never left mine.

Why was he doing this? Why now?

“My client has also cleared the balance owed from when his wife left school and violated the terms of her scholarship. All her debts are clear, so she can re-apply for school anytime she likes.”

“Why are you doing this? Like why now?” I whispered as Roman leaned his elbows on the table.

“Because I love you, and I miss my wife. I’m trying to make it right, Kara,” Roman said as I felt the room closing in on me.

“Now you want to support my dreams…. Now you want to do right! Now you want to make it right!” I shouted, the look of remorse on his face making it hard for me to breathe.

“I think emotions are high and we should take a break and resume next week. That will give Kara some time to think about things,” Deven said as my mother rolled her eyes.

“Ain’t shit to think about….She gon’ take everything he offering…He owes her that much, all she sacrifices she made for him,” my mom said as I wiped my tears.

“Kara, please take it…Even if you don’t take me back. I want you to have this regardless.” Roman pleaded.

“I need some air,” I whispered storming out of the room.

“Kara! Come back!” I heard him yell hot on my heels.

Picking up pace, I slip inside the elevator, pushing the buttons fast as I could as Roman sprinted towards me, sliding in the elevator just before the doors closed.

“Kara-”

“Why are you doing this? You can't buy me, I'm not for sale."

“Baby, just listen,” he pleaded pulling me in his arms, cradling the back of my neck, holding me close as I finally exploded.

“NO! NO! Let me go!” I screamed, managing to turn my body away from him, but I couldn't escape his powerful embrace.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Roman pleaded refusing to let me go, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other around my chest.

His grip never loosened as he lowered us to the floor determined to not let me go as I fought against him.

“Damn you!...... You broke us! You broke ME!..... I LET YOU BREAK ME!!” I cried as he held me tighter.

“Baby, please forgive me,” he whispered, his silent tears falling on my cheek as he buried his head against mine.

He had officially broken me…And now that he had me broken, he wanted to give me all I ever had asked for from him.

“Roman, just let me go,” I whimpered as he released me, allowing me to slide to the opposite side of the elevator, creating some much-needed distance.

“I’m sorry, I just love so much,” he whispered as the elevator jolted to a stop as I looked around in confusion as the lights flickered, then dimed……

No…Not now…We can’t be stuck in here.

“This isn’t happening,” I muttered as Roman rushed to pick up the emergency phone.

“Hello! Hello……Yes, my wife and I are stuck?” he said as I tried to regulate my breathing.

“An hour!” He said I hit the wall in frustration. This day just keeps on getting worse.

An hour in here….. With Roman..Shoot me now.

“Thank you, thirty minutes sounds better than an hour,” he said hanging up and sitting down under the phone as I took off my jacket trying to get comfortable.

“Kara, I-”

“Please don’t talk to me, you’re taking up all the air,” I said checking my phone frowning at the fact I had no service.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I swear I was going to tell you that night. If you could Just let me explain,” he said as I looked at him.

“Ok, I’ll play along, since you seem like you wanna confess your sins. How did it start?” I asked putting my phone in my pocket, giving him my undivided attention.

Roman seemed shocked at my question, this was not how he wanted the conversation to go.

Roman’s POV

Damn, she didn’t waste any time asking. I knew I had to tell her all of it but I dreaded it.…

“Well, I’m waiting, you wanted to explain,” Kara said as I sighed.

“The first time was on the bus. She had asked for a ride saying her friends had left her. Later that night after you and I talked on the phone, I went to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night and there she was layin’ in bed with me….Naked.”

“Then what?” Kara whispered as I contemplated my next words, but I knew I had to tell the truth.

“She climbed on top of me, I asked her to leave but it was almost eerie how she looked like you in the moonlight, so I didn’t stop it,” I said as Kara covered her face with her hands, her leg anxiously tapping against the floor.

I hated to tell her, but I knew I had to tell her all of it.

“When we were having sex, I slipped up and called her your name,” I said as Kara’s head jerked in my direction looking at me in disgust and horror, but she didn’t say anything.

“She told me she didn’t mind pretending to be you for me and I called her by your name as we had sex. Like four out of the six times we slept together I did, the other times, no words were exchanged,” I said feeling the bile rise in my throat, for the first time truly realized how sick it all was.

Kara looked at me with a sad smile. “Tia always has to prove a point that she can take away the things that I love, and I guess you were no exception…..God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Kara whispered, as I dropped my head in shame.

“Kara, If I could take it back I would but I can’t. Just please say we can try-”

“Well as a last-minute replacement for me how did she do?” Kara asked interrupting me, as I groaned.

“Don’t do that, you know nobody can ever compare to you,” I said as Kara chuckled, shaking her head.

“Did you even try to use protection?” she whispered as I felt somewhat offended, she would think I would put her life in danger.

The first time we didn’t but every time after that we did. I got tested before me and you even slept together again. I was clean, and I swear it was only that one time unprotected.”

“That’s all it takes is one time Roman, and now you have a child with her. You still never answered my question…. How was she?” Kara whispered as I felt like I wanted to vomit.

“Kara don’t do this?”

“No, you already did this when you slept with her and KEPT sleeping with her. So how was she?”

“Like I said, she wasn’t you and since we are on that subject, I guess I could ask you the same about Jey,” I said as the elevator started back up with a soft hum but was moving slowly.

Standing up Kara grabbed her jacket ignoring me, but I blocked her path standing in front of the doors. She wasn’t leaving here until she told me why she picked Jey.

“Move Roman.. I ain't got time for this," Kara whispered trying to avoid looking at me.

“Why Jey, Kara? It could have been anybody, but you chose him. You let him have you, why Kara,” I said unafraid and not ashamed of the tremble in my voice.

I was hurt that she let him have her, that’s all I see every time I pull into our fucking driveway.

“Just tell me,” I whispered making her look at me, her once loving eyes now void of feeling towards me.

I really did break her…I caused this change in her.

Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe as I remembered something she told me once when we were dating.

"Can you please move?"

“I have to love and trust someone to share my body with them, I don’t just jump into bed with anybody.” I whispered as she seemed shocked that I remembered but recovered quickly continuing to stare a hole through me.

“I guess there’s your answer as to why I chose, him,” she whispered as we stood in silence waiting for the elevator doors to open.

This couldn’t be it….It just couldn’t….We can come back from this…Jey is a non-issue, I’m her husband…

-----

Gulf Shore, AL

Jey’s POV

“Man, gon’ call Kara, and tell her you missed her and want her to come over,” Trin said as I shot her a look.

“I ain’t trying to smother her, I know she has mediation this morning. It takes a lot out of her,” I said as Trin smiled at me.

“That’s an even better reason to call her and let her know you’re thinking about her, Jimmy said as I found myself blushin’.

I really had been thinking about Kara nonstop since we left a few weeks ago. The facetime calls and texting was and all cool but I wanted to hold her in my arms.

“You never told us what happened when ya’ll went to Roman’s that night either,” Trin said as I put my glasses on acting like I didn’t hear her.

“Oh, it’s like that huh…Fine, I’ll get the info from Kara,” she said as I chuckled.

“I think they fucked,” Jimmy said as I punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t talk about Kara like that,” I said as he gave Trin a knowing look as she smiled.

“Yep…They had sex, and it was good too. She got ya brother even more sprung than before,” Trin said as I pulled out my phone to call Kara, not even bothering to argue because it was true.

I was sprung and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it…

------

Roman’s House

Kara’s POV

I finally calmed down enough to make my way out to the house, and it seems like Roman kept his word...Nobody was here.

As I got out the car my phone rang, smiling I accepted Jey’s facetime request.

“Where you been all my life,” Jey said as soon as I answered making me blush as I heard Trin and Jimmy awing in the background.

“Well, I always been here, and I’m currently at the house of horrors.” I said as Jey frowned.

“Your where?” Jey asked as I sighed. “I’m at the house picking up the last of my thing I wanted to get and granny’s bracelet.”

“Is he there?” Jey asked as I chuckled. “No, he’s not, he had some business to take care of. We did mediation this morning and it was a mess, but I’ll tell you about it later,” I said as Jey studied my face.

“I don’t like that look, it means when you tell me I’mma wanna beat his ass again,” Jey said as I gave him a small smile.

“What time ya’ll gettin' in today?" I asked as he smiled.

“We should be back in town in about an hour, we makin’ good time, tell the fam, hey,” Jey said turning the camera around to Jimmy and Trin as they laughed.

“Hey fam!” I said happy to see their faces, I really missed them all.

“Hey, Booky! I’mma need you to put this man outta his misery when this is all over with Roman and your ass crazy sister. He’s crazy about you,” Trin said as I blushed.

“Man, stop tellin’ all my business, Kara already knows what time it is,” Jey said as I laughed.

“I miss you guys and I can’t wait to see ya’ll.”

“You be careful, get what you need, and get out. Dinner on us tonight,” Jimmy said as I smiled.

“I got ya’ll it’s gon’ take ten minutes tops. If I haven’t called, ya’ll back, call me,” I said putting their minds at ease.

“A’ight ten minutes,” Jey said as I smiled hanging up putting my phone in my back pocket.

After that night we never spoke about what happened. Jey was a man of his word; we carried on like our usual selves and for that I was grateful.

Running upstairs, I went into the bedroom and grabbed some of the clothes I wanted to keep, putting them in the box Roman had left on the bed for me.

I felt my anger slowly building as I looked around the room.. Had Tia been in here? Had she slept in our bed? Roman’s confession on how things went down with Tia really had thrown me for a loop.

“Why couldn’t you say, no?” I muttered as I heard footsteps coming upstairs.

Ugh…

“Roman you said you wouldn’t be here,” I said agitated, opening the door and taking a step back in shock seeing Tia standing there in the sundress I wore the day Roman proposed to me.

“Oh, I didn’t know you would be here Kara. I was just trying to put together a little surprise for-” she started but stopped talking, seeing the look on my face…She realized she had taken it too far.

“You got on my dress!” I hissed as she tried to run but I caught her arm, slanging her in the room, and throwing her up against the wall before climbing on top of her.

“You bitch” I yelled punching her in the face as she screamed in pain.

“Get off! Kara!” Tia screamed as I repeatedly banged her head against the floor.

“I’mma kill you.”

“You ok up there Kara?!” I heard Janice yell as I kicked Tia in the stomach, before running to lock the door.

Nobody was breakin’ this up..She had it coming.

“Everybody always tryin’ to save you….You never face the consequences of your actions,” I hissed as she stumbled to her feet.

Before she could even see it coming, I ran at her, grabbing her by the and hair slamming her face against the wall.

“Kara calm down!" She cried as I backhanded her as she fell against me.

“Calm down my ass, I’m sicka you! Get off me bitch! I screamed, throwing her into the dresser as she tumbled across it hitting the floor hard. Her moans of pain bringing me satisfaction.

“What is going on in there, Kara?!” Janice yelled as I trembled with anger as Tia spit blood outta her mouth, crawling toward the wall trying to pull herself up.

“ Janice, I’mma kill her, that’s what’s going on!” I screamed charging towards Tia, spearing her against the wall as we fell to the floor in a heap.

My phone sliding across the floor in the process

“It ain’t worth it Kara, come on out baby,” Janice pleaded as I fought to catch my breath but I couldn’t reign in my anger. She has taken everything from me.

“I won,” Tia gasped with a smile as I snapped pulling her up by her neck dragging her to the wall mirror in the corner.

“Look! Look at us! Bitch, what have you won! The only reason you even had him in the first place is because you look somewhat look little like me the dark hoe,” I hissed as she tried to pry my hands out of her hair.

“Ain’t nobody tryin to be you! He wanted me because he knows I’m better than you!” Tia screaming as I chuckled letting her go.

“But ain’t you tryin’ to be me, Tia?…..Let’s see….You wearin’ my clothes!...You were fucking my husband and had a baby from him but you ain’t trying to be me.. Bitch, please, just own dat shit,” I scoffed.

“He wanted me Kara…He couldn’t resist me,” Tia smiled as I shook my head. This bitch was loony tunes.

“Oh! He wanted you, huh…Wasn’t he fucking you and calling you by my NAME! Something you didn’t mind him doing by the way, right? As long as you fucked up my life!” I yelled as she jumped back in shock at my knowledge of what happened during her intimate moments with Roman.

“H- H- He told you?” she stammered as I smirked at her uneasiness.

“Yea, he told me all of it, and who does some sick shit like that? I asked. The tension building as we stared a hole through each other.

“Oh…nothing to say now.. Well, I’ll tell you who does that…A desperate bitch who loves to throw her rank ass pussy at anything that moves!” I screamed as she tried to swing but missed, the momentum causing us to fall against the mirror, causing it to shatter around us.

Luckily neither one of us landed on the glass but hit the ground hard.

“Damn it,” I muttered rubbing my head as I heard my phone ringing looking around in a panic, I groaned in frustration as it stopped.

I knew it was Jey calling to check on me.

“Miss an important call,” Tia teased trying to sit up as my phone started ringing again.

“J- Jey,” I whispered trying to crawl to my phone as I felt a Tia jump on my back as we tussled to get to my phone.

“What you mean don’t call the cops! You better get her quick then Roman; they are killing each other in there!” Janice said as she continued to bang on the door.

“Just as I reached the phone, Tia bit my hand and elbowed me in the stomach before grabbing and answering it.

“Jey! Jey, she’s gone crazy! Help me!” Tia cried as I pulled her back down to the ground hitting her with a right hook before slamming her head against the floor again.

“Tia! Where is Kara!” I heard Jey yell as I ripped my phone out of her hands.

“Kara! Kara! What’s gon’ on!” I heard Jey yelling in a panic as I put the phone to my ear.

“Jey….I’mma call you back…I got some shit to handle.” I panted

“Ka-” Jey started but I ended the call before he could finish, seeing Tia trying to run for the door.

“Where you goin’?” I asked, charging toward the door pushing her against it.

“Help! Somebody Help me! Your crazy!” Tia yelled as I turned her around to face me.

“What did you expect after all you’ve done! You’ve made me this way!”

I screamed punching her in the face as she fell in a heap at my feet, leaning down I jacked her up by the hair, tossing her again into the wall

“Bitch you ain’t nobody!” I Screamed gripping her hair as she tried to back away, I began punching her, on top of her head, only stopping to change course landing a few punches to her face as she screamed trying to cover her face with her hands.

I got a couple more shots before I felt myself being lifted up in the air. “Let me go! let me go!” I screamed, fighting against whoever had pulled me away.

“Kara, that’s enough baby,” Roman’s voice boomed throughout the room as I stilled in his arms, panting in disbelief at how out of control I was.

“Roman,” I whispered somewhat coming out of my tunnel vision.

“Yes…..It’s me baby, I got you,” he whispered holding me tight as I tried to gather myself as Tia got up of the floor wiping her nose.

“You’re really comforting her! She’s crazy and just attacked the mother of your child for no reason Roman,” Tia moaned, as I winced feeling the pain shoot through my knuckles as I looked down seeing the scrapes and patches of raw skin.

“Nah, I ain’t crazy..You just kept pushin’ your luck, like you always do and nobody was here to save yo’ ass…Let me go Roman!” I hissed as Roman released me, finally taking in Tia’s appearance.

“Why you got on Kara’s engagement dress?” Roman asked, his powerful voice overtaking the room as Tia said nothing.

She was too busy trying to check her face in the only mirror left standing in the room, on top of the dresser.

“Don’t worry, It’s an improvement bitch!” I screamed as Roman sighed gently pulling me to him, trying to check me over.

“Stop, I’m fine,” I said stepping away from him. “You got some cuts, Kara” he said worriedly as I shrugged him off again.

“I said I’m good, but you betta get that bitch outta here before I kill her,” I said pointing at Tia as she smirked, Janice shaking her head in the corner at the scene playing out before her.

“I won…I …ruined…Your …Life and I loved every minute of it…I hate you,” she seethed as I chuckled.

“You hate me….. You hate me! Bitch, I’ve hated yo’ ass since the womb!” I yelled, knowing it would cut her deep because she would always tell me how she would rub Mama’s stomach and talk to me when Mama was pregnant with me.

“You wanna know why I’ve always made a point to fuck up your life?” She asked I tried to get around Roman.

“Because I wished you had never been born!” She screamed. "Move Roman!" I yelled as he refused, turning to look at Tia

“Shut up, Tia!” Roman shouted as she kept talking.

“It’s true, and she should know.”

“Well, Mama shoulda’ just swallowed when it came to you. Your whole fuckin’ existence has just been you being a living, breathing, pile of disappointment and cum! You gutta slut, I hate you!” I screamed as she seemed hurt by my words.

“Timeout!..... Roman take Kara downstairs for her to calm down…They hittin' below the belt now, ya’ll still sisters,” Janice said as I shrugged Roman off.

“I can go on my own accord. I don’t need him,” I said walking out of the room as Roman’s mom followed me.

“I’ll help you get cleaned up,” she said as I looked at her unsure of what her motive was. I was still pissed by her lil outburst and shots she was throwing a couple of weeks ago.

She betta not start talkin’ out her neck or she can get this work too. I’m tired of the bullshit…And everybody…

Roman’s POV

“I told you not to be here!” I yelled as Tia continued to clean herself up.

“She has to get used to seeing us a family, Roman.”

“Uh, no she doesn’t because that isn’t going to happen. We share Logan together and that’s all. I can’t believe you really came back here after I asked you not too…Just trying to hurt Kara,” I said as she rolled her eyes.

“That wasn’t my in-”

“Tia! You up here wearin’ the dress Kara wore when I proposed to her!…You knew what would happen when she saw you in it."

“She always takes shit so personal,” she said wincing as she touched her jaw.

“It is personal, and you had no right! Look, just get outta my house.” I said just over the day. I feel like the more I try the worse everything gets.

“How am I going to get home?” Tia cried as I walked around for the first time looking at the disaster area, that was once my bedroom with Kara.

“The same way you snuck back here after my mom dropped you off at your house…Hell, walk for all I care and leave Logan at your moms, I’ll pick her up later,” I said leaving no room for argument.

“You can’t just dismiss me like I’m nothing Roman,” she whispered as I turned to look at her.

“My lawyers will be in touch, now get out.” I said as she sighed limping out of the room.

“This is a fuckin’ mess.”

------

Jey’s POV

“Man, where we at? This ain’t the way!” I yelled as Jimmy sped up.

“We almost there, I took a shortcut,” he said as Trin tried to call Kara back.

“Come on Kara, pick up the phone,” Trin pleaded as I felt myself losing it.

“I just need to get there man,” I sighed as Trin rubbed my shoulder. “Kara can take care of herself,” she said as I sighed.

“I know that…I just know Kara, she gon’ hurt dat girl.” I said honestly scared about what we were about to walk into.

“Tia been pushin’ and she finally got what she asked for. It’s been coming, and it was no way to avoid it,” Trin said as I took a deep breath.

I was so on edge as we hit the exit to Roman’s house, I probably could have run faster than Jimmy was driving.

Pulling up, we didn’t see the cops or anything but saw Tia coming out with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

She avoided our gaze and starting to walk up the road with a slight limp.

“Damn she limpin’ and did you see her face…Man, Kara ate her ass up,” Jimmy said as Trin snickered. “Told you Kara could handle it,” she whispered as I slammed the car door, rushing inside.

As soon as I got to the foyer, I heard Kara’s voice coming from the kitchen.

“Aye, gon’ in there, we’ll look around,” Jimmy said as I went towards the kitchen.

“Roman did tell her not to be here sweetie. I dropped her off and everything,” my aunt said as I hung back giving them space to talk.

I was just thankful Kara was ok, and I could lay eyes on her.

I watched my aunt clean up Kara’s knuckles as she hissed at the pain. She had a small cut on her lip and a couple scratches on her arms.

“Tell me how you feeling sweetie? You can’t keep holding this in.” My aunt said as a strangled sob escaped Kara’s lips.

“Do you know how long we tried to have a baby, and that WHORE just gave him our dream without even trying.” Kara cried as my aunt reached over and gave her a hug.

“I know it baby,” my aunt whispered rubbing Kara’s back.

“Wh- What am I supposed to do with that?.…This is all wrong, it’s not fair,” Kara sobbed, my heart breaking for her.

Pulling away, my aunt took Kara’s hands in hers. “I’ll tell you what you do…..Leave him, Kara……Leave this town and allow yourself to heal,” My aunt said as I looked at her in shock.

She actually told Kara to leave Roman and start her life over.

“How do I do that?” Kara asked as my aunt smiled at her.

“Take it one day at a time,” she whispered as Kara nodded wiping her tears.

“You right, I need to leave…..Cause’ if I don’t leave, somebody gon’ get hurt,” Kara whispered, as I felt a chill run down my spine at the coldness of her voice.

“I know it, baby… I can feel it coming, and I don’t want that,” my aunt said as Kara nodded in agreement as they sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until my aunt cleared her throat.

“So, do you have any places in mind?” she asked as Kara cracked a smile.

“I guess it’s time to give Boston another try,” she whispered with determination as I smiled.

I knew what that meant...She was finally going to put herself first and go back to medical school.

And she didn’t know it yet, well, maybe she did but I’m going to be with her every step of the way.

There was no way I was losing her now…

When the divorce is final and Kara’s ready….She will become Mrs. Fatu….

Why do I say that?...... Because you can’t run from destiny and Kara was my destiny.

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