#we all thought he was just a weird dumb old man

[boysbeware2]

all the old tptm girl journal entries w the new (if anyone wants to see them again and compare them)

please proceed with caution as many of these could be upsetting to read

disposable girl (jordyn)

(old)

i cant fucking stand this. i try so goddamn hard to make friends, to be attractive to people, to be even somewhat appealing to them etc etc. it never works. i thought it would get better the older i get. thats what i was told. guess what! i was fucking lied to!!! im alwasy left out of EVERYTHING i never get invited to shit and my own friends ignore me all the time. everyone looks at me weird. i cant go in public anymore im so fucking terrified of everyone. nobody fuckinf wants me, man. im so close to doing something stupid i feel so gross and ugly and dumb i should actually just die id be doing everyone a favor LOL

(new)

man, i havent been on here in forever. the internet is kind of dumb. what is there to say? my friend group celebrated our outpatient graduation anniversary the other day, that was pretty nice. we’re all trying to figure out housing stuff, nora’s been helping with that. freyja + mayra + kairi found a place already (how are they so responsible??) and the rest of us are trying to find places near them so we can visit more often. i never expected to have such a big group of friends. if you told me 2 years ago that i’d be living like this, i wouldn’t believe you. it’s still surreal to me. i’m not sure what i did to deserve them. same goes for my girlfriends. i don’t wanna say who just yet, we’re still figuring things out, but i’m just so thankful for them. i feel so lucky to have a second chance at life. i really didn’t believe people when they said it would get better, and then it did. how funny…..

irreverent girl (kairi)

(old)

I do not want God to see me anymore. I do not want anymore eyes on me. This is near unbearable. I have no one to turn to. My mother is in the church. Many of my friends are in the church. They would tell me to find hope through Christ. They would tell me to pray to Him. They would tell me that He will save me. He must not remember He made me, and if He does, He simply does not care. I know this is unbecoming of me, and I don't mean to be dramatic. I am simply depressed, nervous, and I cannot tell what's real and what isn't anymore. I know I'm supposed to hear God speaking to me, but I do not, and I am tired of straining my ears. I just want to see a doctor. I want some kind of tangible solution. I do not want to pray anymore. Praying hurts. I only do it when I am afraid, but I am afraid much of the time. I don't want to be unheard anymore. I do not want to hold out hope for someone who does not act like they're there. I am hurting. I am hurting. I am hurting. Belief is hurting me. The idea of God is hurting me. I need an out. I am hurting.

(new)

When I have a job and money and I can move away from my shitty Mormon parents

splitter girl (tahira)

(old)

theres something so broken in me thats beyond saving. so i dont know why i keep trying to be saved. i meant to kill myself when i was 18. i didnt. all ive wanted to do lately is kill someone or something. i havent. im too much of a pussy to plan anything concrete, no matter how much i hate everyone around me. no matter how much i get off to videos of people dying or how much i love cutting myself i cant actually take action against other people. i am fucking purposeless. i was born from evil and i will always be evil and i cant even live up to that. i hate myself i hate myself i HATE myself and the universe hates me too. i dont know what to fucking do at this point. i talked to one of my friends about wantingto die and they said smthn about hospitalizing myself. maybe. i dunno. i dont know what else there is for me/. my eyes are fucking burning from lookign at my computer for so long adn not getting any goddamn sleep. i am not a good person. i dont think i can be helped but i just dont wanna fucking keep goign to school and being around people and pretending like everything is norma;l. i cant keep doing it. what the fuck is wrong with me whagt happened. why cant i be loved or feel love for other people when did something change in me that switched the aggression and affection parts of my brain. im hyperventilating ill be back. maybe

(new)

getting myself onigiri from this one good boba place 2nite bc im 8 months clean…… its the little things~ ^^

fainéant girl (freyja)

(old)

i know i dont hate being disabled... i just hate being disabled in a society that makes existing difficult... but sometimes i really just dont want to be disabled anymore. i dont want my family to lecture me about how i could be helping out more, or how i should get a job. i dont want teachers to keep asking me whats wrong or the fuckin uni counselor to try to get me hospitalized. i dont want to be in so much pain anymore, to feel so exhausted that i cant even do so much as prepare food for myself, let alone do anything meaningful or fulfilling. its not fair. i shouldnt have to stay inside and sit in the dark all day,. i should be able to have friends. to talk to people and to go out with them and to feel like i am alive. its lonely and traumatic to suffer through this and on top of that no one around me understands, and they never fully will. i am tired of trying to justify my existence to everyone, to explain the pain that i am in and why i shouldnt have to experience it. i know the problem isnt me. i know i live in a world that isnt built for me. but if the world cant change then sometimes i truly feel that i should just stop living in it. my lifespan is already shorter than everyone else's anyways. what difference does it make

(new)

my qpps didnt seem to appreciate me playing Alien Kids Alien Rap for them. Do they even love me

caliber girl (nora)

(old)

唉～It is 3 AM and I should go to sleep but I can’t. I have a work zoom meeting early in the morning and I gotta hit the gym also because I haven’t done leg day in like… weeks. Oh well, it doesn’t even matter. My value is depleting but I don’t think I care anymore. The turnaround date for my code is also in a couple of days and I haven’t made any progress. I keep getting the same error and I’m too tired to figure out what’s wrong. I might get fired at this rate LOL(笑). If that happens, I think I’ll just consider ending it all. Not that anybody will miss me. God I sound so weak and pathetic right now. When did it get like this. How did it get like this. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse before and this is nothing. Ugh, why is it so hard to breathe? My chest hurts and I feel like something is wrong but I don’t know how to make it go away. Should I call someone about this? No. No one is awake or around to help. I’ll be fine. I’ll just sleep it off. Shake it off… shake it off…

(new)

My Tamagotchi beeped during a meeting fml

chocolate box girl (morgan)

(old)

i thought i was doing better but i cant stop thinking about them. their touch, their interests, their smile, everything. the worst part is that i miss them, after all of what they've done to me. i was 13. i dont even feel justified calling it rape since our relationship was so muddy... they never yelled at me or was angry at me, they just got so sad when i tried to speak my mind, and got all my friends to hate me when we finally broke up. i never said no so i feel like im insulting actual survivors by feeling violated. i wasnt even trying to get into a relationship with them, it just happened... i feel like everyone around me wants me in the same way they did, even though im an adult now and i dont even try to make myself appealing. i wish i could trust people not to take advantage of me, and i feel disgusting and selfish for feeling like everyone has ulterior motives of getting me to fall in love with them, or worse. that's so self centered of me. i dont know how long i can keep doing this

(new)

girl help i cant stop looking at anime figures on japan yahoo auctions !!!!!

taxidermy girl (mayra)

(old)

I don't remember ever not having a sex drive, is that normal ? I was born and then it was all downhill from there, something happened to me sexually i think, I don't know what happened, because I don't remember much, but something happened and I was beaten for it and yelled at and my mother hated me, and now I am an adult and I try to have sex, and I'm not there mentally, even if my body is participating, I feel like I am in the past again, being beaten and yelled at . I want to keep trying, I want to have fun, to feel safe in someone else's arms, to reach the heights of pleasure, but my mind scares me so much, I haven't been able to eat anything today because I feel so horrified by my body . If I was good I would have been born as a nonsexual being, no parts, no desires, no instincts, a blank slate, too empty to be enjoyed . Do you know what it feels like, to have your mother tell you people want to sexually abuse you when you are a child, and then to be made fun of by your peers for being so ugly, to have your middle school and high school classmates joke about how much they don't want to have sex with you ? I am illicit and undesirable at the same time, I am everyone's last option, I am nothing and still too much, rotting deer meat on the side of the road . I wish I had been born as something beautiful and pure, I wish I could start over, that whatever that initial sin was had never been committed .. I want to start over

(new)

Went to a kink event the other night and everyone was so nice … The low lights were fucking with my vision so one of the hosts helped me navigate the place . I ❤️ you random disabled ally with a pup mask on

chemical girl (joy)

(old)

LMAOOOOO im too angry and miserable to be around. i think i just need to give up at this point because theres clearly like. something broken inside me that cant be fixed. that has 2 be it because i try to talk and i just sound cold, i try to make a joke and it comes out overly edgy and unfunny, i try to be like everyone else but its too much. i cant even be a collection of the positive traits i see in others, i try to replicate it and it comes out warped and wrong. im either fucking enraged or in abject misery or way too happy and nobody can keep up with me. the thing is i dont even blame them. i wouldnt want to be around me either. do u know what thats like? being someone you wouldnt want to know? i keep hoping that one day ill wake up and suddenly be normal, the mood swings will be gone and everyone will like me and i wont do stupid shit that pisses them off. but i know that day isnt coming. theres no hope for me and i want to say sorry to everyone who has ever had the misfortune of knowing me but i know it wouldnt do anything. theres nothing i could ever do to make myself right

(new)

i need to convince my gf to take me to Round One again soon

refraction girl (nataana)

(old)

i don't want to do this anymore. i'm going somewhere better

(new)

talked with my psych and i’ll be starting TMS soon, it’s some thing where they put magnets to ur brain and it’s supposed to treat depression.. trying to temper my expectations bc i’ve tried so many treatments that just do nothing for me, but i’d be lying if i said my hopes weren’t riding on this. i want to confidently say i’m glad to be alive. i feel like i’m getting closer to that

nurse parallel/machine girl (xiomara)

(old)

I am so excited... Tomorrow my experimental outpatient treatment plan begins!!! I'm beyond delighted. I have complicated feelings about my DID being in remission, but it's nice to feel stable enough to be in charge of something this big, and to not have terrible gaps in my memory anymore. I still don't remember everything that happened to me, but maybe I don't need to. At this stage of my life, I feel content. I can confidently say everything was worth it. I want to help others feel that way, too. I think I can.

(new)

I’m meeting up with a new friend tomorrow… I feel nervous, but it’s a good nervousness, I think!

[primreaperstuff]

Chat what's the opposite of "aged like milk"?

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 1.6k words rich yandere x gn!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags sugar daddy, rich yandere, low-key obsessive behaviour, first meetings, college student reader, age gap, brief mention of a rapist (no description or anything more)

—📜" Being a broke college student, you decide to try your hand at getting a sugar daddy. You find someone who is... quite eager to know everything about you. It's weird because he doesn't seem to be the same person he was online.

They say to spend your youth on nightclubs and partying with friends. But really, they don’t know the true beauty of being in a jazz club and drinking all by yourself. There’s no ill intentions, there’s no partying until the sun goes down—just some nice music and good drinks.

People find it odd, sure. But nothing can beat this feeling for you. As you lay in a couch that’s worth double your college tuition, you drink champagne that's triple your college tuition. 

How you ended up here is another embarrassing story. Hunting for a sugar daddy online is a clear plan for destruction. It could end well with a decent allowance every now and then, of course. Yet, fear gets the most of you. The thought that you end up with a fat well and alive man who asks for sex with his small dick looms over you like a gloomy cloud. That fear is there because your sugar daddy is anonymous.

Sighing, you drink another sip of the champagne as you fix your posture. Again. The seat in front of you is still empty. You’d think he wasn’t really being honest with you but he did have a reservation ready for the both of you.

It’s not bad to wait. Even if you do look dumb getting stood up, at least you’re enjoying yourself.

“You lonely there?” someone asks behind you.

Turning your head behind you, you see a towering man with a smile so bright you think you could be blinded by it. He looks elegant—the way he’s holding a glass like a connoisseur and his long black hair pulled into a slick ponytail. Fuck, is he your sugar daddy? He looks the age for it and honestly, he aged really good.

You tell him, “Maybe. Are you lonely?”

He chuckles and takes the seat opposite. Finally. “No,” he says, “not anymore, at least. All thanks to…?” he gestures to you.

When you tell him his name, he parrots it like he’s tasting it. “Beautiful. Your mother picked it out?”

“I’m sure so,” you don’t know, who the hell would know that? “It’s a generational name, really. In our family we keep reusing names.”

“So are you the second? The third?”

The third was your great grandfather but he ended up being a rapist. Eugh. “The fourth,” you answer. “But I never tell anyone that, actually. Bit embarrassing if they call me the fourth, so.”

He laughs, somehow finding you amusing. “Nicolas,” he says, “very nice to meet you.”

Was… his name Nicolas? You’re not so sure about that. From the site he only revealed his last name so that you could get the reservation. Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” The little twitch in his lips is unavoidable to your eyes, “You look very nice tonight,” maybe that’s why he took almost an hour to arrive here. “Do you live near here or?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, “I come from Bolzano. But I came here from Portofino, where my heart currently is.”

You nod like you know where those places really are. Italy, you assume. “Very nice. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”

“Beatiful even more with company,” he puts his drink down. “How about you? What makes you come here?”

You, actually. You wanted to go here. “I was raised by my grandfather and jazz was his favourite. Every corner of the house Hank Mobley would be playing. I have his old records that he passed down to me and whenever I play it, I can see the way he dances.”

“So, come down here for a little trip to memory lane?”

Before you could answer, you think about it even more. The man you were talking was definitely not Italian, right? No, his name sounded British, at most. And Nicolas sounds like he has little to no knowledge about the fact that you two are supposedly on a date.

Fuck, did you get him wrong? I mean, he is interested, you think.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. You put your glass down too, clasping your hands. “I think I do need to go now. It was nice to have your company—”

“Going so soon? A bit rude especially if you came here to be mine for a price, no?”

You pause. Though you’re ready to leave this embarrassing meeting, you’re caught. You turn to him in confusion. So you were… wrong? Right? 

“Sit back down, this champagne is a bit too new to me.” He raises a hand and someone immediately finds their footing beside him. Nicolas speaks in his own tongue, requesting something you don’t understand.

You’re promptly back on your seat with a small wave of his hand. “Come on, I think we have a lot to learn about each other. But I know you.”

Did he send in a private investigator or what? Fuck, man. You didn’t think that those things were real in real life. “How much do you know?”

He doesn’t answer. His legs are crossed as he watches the busboy leave to prepare your drinks. “How are your classes?” he asks, making idle conversation of things you’re a bit worried to talk to him about. “Hope you’re dealing well.”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of this now. “It’s all fine, yes. Just a few projects and classes.” You wonder for a moment how rude it would be to ask for a price on your body right now. “Nothing interesting, really.”

“I’m sure anything you say is of interest,” he says, all too fond of you. “Tell me, love, you mentioned having difficulties with some of your professors.”

He wasn’t interested in all that before when you were talking. “It’s fine. Well, not like I can say no. It’s a bit hard when you’re paying for an education and you’re not being taught,” you laugh, “Self-taught learning, he excuses.”

“That’s simply lazy,” he excuses. “Fine arts is such a nice career path. No reason to be dismissive of students who want to learn it.”

Did you tell him what you’re studying?

The busboy returns and brings a drink to the both of you. The song changes and it sounds familiar. You could almost see your grandfather dance behind Nicolas.

“I’m going to guess that’s your doing,” you say, “Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

He smiles, “I’m not one for jazz myself.” He reaches for his glass and swirls in, taking a whiff of its scent afterward. “But I’m curious as to who you are. How you grew up is one of those things”

When the both of you talked online, you expected him to be more lustful than this. Maybe it’s the repeating innuendo in his messages. All of that persona is gone now as if it never existed. It’s concerning.

Both of you make small conversation. Mostly it’s about you. He asks every little detail about you, asking for things that not even your friends would care about. It’s the little things.

‘Do you like soft cotton or silk?’ You don’t really know the difference but cotton is nice.

‘How often do you see your family?’ Every or so month, you’d wager. But you make sure to keep in contact.

‘What’s your thoughts on caged animals?’ A bit cruel, but you can see where it can stem from. Still, it’s cruel. You’d never do it.

The night come to a close when you start to feel a bit light-headed with the drinks you’ve ingested. Nicolas puts aside your glass as he stands to go on your side of the table. “Maybe it’s time to take a break tonight, love?”

You groan. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine now. I’m really thankful for tonight.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling you up and helping you walk. You don’t need it but it’s nice anyways. “I can take you back to your dorm, yes? You don’t need to worry about anything else when you’re with me.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You don’t get to check it when Nicolas wraps both of his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the exit and you swear you hear ‘Signore Giordano’ come out when the men bid him goodnight.

Which is weird, because his surname is Abbot.

The ride was a blur, literally. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink. The next thing you know is that both of you are in front of your dorm. It’s too dark outside. The streets are dead silent. The low rumble of his car is the only thing you can really hear.

He calls your name. “It’s time to go home. You can’t stay with me yet, love.”

You stretch in the seat. A car seat has never been more comfortable. “Been nice, really. Thank you.”

As you unbuckle your seat, he leans forward. His arm drapes over your shoulders as his hand comes to your face. “Then can I get a little reward? Just a little?” He turns his cheek, a grin on his face.

It’s stupid but oh well, he would pay you. You press a kiss on his cheek and he looks like the happiest man alive. He laughs, looking at you with stupid heart eyes. “Thank you. Call me with this number—” he places a card in your hands—”and delete that damn app. I’ll come find you after your classes tomorrow for your contract. You don’t need to find anyone else now.”

He leaves shortly after you get inside your dorm. You hear the revving of his car go in the quiet night. It’s relieving. You’re tired on your feet, unable to really process what happened tonight.

It’s whatever. It’s all done now.

You delete the app on your phone, swiping away a message you got from it. You’re pretty sure it’s from another match you had last time but again, you don’t need it anymore.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ L0tus_Ren_ & @ Ivan Belikov

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mr. Ito nods. 

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

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

“Correct.” Satoru simply responds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So take me there.”

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

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

“Whe–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that’s the thing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

“I wanna see Papa!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, Mama?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s poignant.

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

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

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

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

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

But Koji’s all you have.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He notices.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You live here?

Is this even a safe neighborhood?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Koji looks up at him. “Mhm?”

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

“You work today? But Mama doesn’t.”

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

“Special?!”

“Special.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hellsresidentfallenangel]

Familiar Faces

Summary: How would Adam and Lute react to seeing a Fallen Angel back in Heaven?

A/N: I know we technically already saw this when Charlie and Vaggie came up to Heaven but this time I want to do it with someone who may have meant a bit more to the both of them.

When Charlie first told you she wanted you to come to Heaven with her you outright laughed in her face. You, a known Fallen Angel, go to Heaven? The idea was just as laughable as it was dumb.

Then Charlie actually took you to Heaven. In the few seconds you thought it was wise to laugh at Vaggie's dismay of being pushed into the weird swirly portal, a tight hand had wrapped itself around your upper arm. With a harsh tug, you were suffering the same fate as Vaggie.

Just like you had many years ago, you were faced with the bright colours of Heaven.

Fortunately, you weren't left alone with Charlie and Vaggie for long as two of the Seraphims came to join you, leading you around Heaven. Of course, in these moments Charlie could hardly contain herself, ready to rush off to explore or point out something that you and Vaggie had seen countless times.

All in all, it was rather peaceful being back in Heaven. Seeing some of the old buildings or community areas that you had spent so many years in was almost refreshing; given the harsh contrast that Hell was compared to all this. You didn't outwardly express any of this though. Keeping your arms crossed or firmly placed on your hips.

But with Heaven's dwindled population, it wasn't hard to run into people you knew. So when the familiar colour pallet of gold, white, grey and black showed up in the corner of your vision, you couldn't help but try and nestle your way in between Charlie and Vaggie to try and slip past their vision.

Alas, your efforts were for nothing.

With a booming voice, Adam yelled to get your attention as well as everyone around you. What you would've done to be in Vaggie's place and simply ignored with nothing but else but a shifty side glance.

"If it isn't my favourite ex-angel!"

Even though all the attention was on you, you couldn't help but try and slip away from the limelight. With a quick hand though, you were pulled into Adam's side in a tight sidehug.

It would only be when you're tightly tapped at Adam's side, his nails digging into your arm while Lute flocked to your other side, staring over at you with a carefully blank expression that Adam would hiss into your ear. "Who let you back in here?"

"Wait, you two know each other?" Charlie would exclaim, her eyes widening slightly with a glimmer of hope residing in them as a plan to get Adam and Lute on the Hazbin Hotel's side came to mind.

It was only when she noticed your deadpan stare, the way Adam's hand may have been gripped a little too tightly around your arm and how Lute seemed to be itching to get closer that perhaps she might have misjudged the relationship you had with the two prior to your fall.

Sera would have to cast Adam a raised brow for the guy to release you, no amount of struggling or shoving on your part goading him to release you.

That wouldn't be the end of it though. Like any good 'friends' seeing someone who had been cast out of Heaven in favour of rotting in Hell, Adam and Lute decide that there is no better way to spend their afternoon other than to follow you, Vaggie and the Princess of Hell around as you attend to business.

On numerous occasions, Adam would try to tug you in one direction or the other, prepared to run off with you whenever everyone's back was either turned on you or was preoccupied with something for the moment.

Each time ended in small little scruffles as you tried to push yourself away from Adam, not above trying to fight the First Man on Holy ground even if it meant being shot out of the sky again.

If he wasn't trying to steal you away from the group, Adam was making loud jokes, sometimes making you the butt of the joke while other times it was someone else. Normally it would be Vaggie but it was more likely you who he was laughing at. Recapping your graceful fall from Heaven or any other blunders he could think of.

Lute wasn't much better on her part.

Unlike Adam, whenever one of the Seraphins looked back to check on what was happening or Charalie and Vaggie got ready to jump in, she would be stood patiently waiting for the tour to continue once Adam's antics were dealt with.

—Except that one time she was caught cheering Adam on as he tried smoothing your head into the ground.

It didn’t even matter if the Seraphins or your friends were looking, Lute decided to make your trip to Heaven just as bad as you’d thought it would be by walking too close for comfort, making comments about previous exterminations that you had taken part in, trying to reminisce on activities you had taken up when in Heaven to try and kill boredom.

That was something that Hell was surprisingly better than Heaven at. There was never a dull day. Even if there was it would only take you a short commute from your hotel room to find either Angel Dust or Alastor for your boredom to be banished, the both of them entertaining enough in their own ways.

By the end of the little tour Heaven was providing Charlie, you were prepared to scream.

Vaggie did nothing but spare you a pitiful glance. At some point further down the line than you, she had been in the same boat, though now she was just glad it wasn’t her that had to deal with the antics of Adam and Lute.

So putting on a brace face, you reminded yourself it was only for the day, maybe only a few more hours. Before you knew it you would be back at the hotel and hiding away in your room, reading to stay there for the rest of the day and only crawl out when an essential was needed.

When that time finally came you pushed past any of the sinners who tried to greet you with a flash of your middle finger as you vanished from their sights, all of them turning to Charlie and Vaggie to find out what had happened.

[wilwheaton]

hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me

I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?

I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.

I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.

Hey everyone! An old man is talking!

In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.

Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:

Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.

The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.

Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.

Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.

Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.

Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.

Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.

This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”

When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”

I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”

There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.

Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙grandma & grandad | DR3 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: just fluff, dumb jokes and random made up usernames 😭 not subtle at all

summary: in which you cause chaos in the f1 'finsta' community or in which your old man jokes backfire on you!!

a/n: this is chaotic and random and hell and idk what's happening tbh but yh. Literally No plot

request!!!: reader x danny but on their like priv accounts/finstas w the other drivers where readers like making fun of danny’s grey hairs and calling him an old man but in like a nice fun way yk? and the other drivers are just enjoying the chaos maybe playing along?

fc: renee rapp

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourfinsta posted a story

liked by charllec, maxxie33, and others

maxxie33 oh no not a danny/n reunion

yourfinsta you better keep quiet

maxxie33 yes ma'am

yourbff I LOVE YOUUUU

yourfinsta i love you! more🤨!!

honey3badger baby girl sweetest angel in the world

liked by yourfinsta

yourfinsta posted a story

liked by lnorizz, maxxie33, and others

charllec do you need me to call the cops y/n!!

yourfinsta no dont worry charlie 🙏 he's actually nice he's buying me dinner rn

charllec omg pulled 😂

gruss what is that‼️

yourfinsta omg george that's so mean....can you relax please?

gruss Urm

honey3badger posted a story

liked by maxxie33, gruss, and others

yourbff omg i jus lolled at this

honey3badger save me

charllec you guys need help

lnorizz she is scary...

sainzjr do you guys ever like hold hands and cuddle and stuff

honey3badger do we ever what?

pastryboy 📍 aus

liked by yourfinsta, lnorizz, and others

pastryboy we got to hang out with grandma and grandad

tagged: lily, yourfinsta, honey3badger

view all comments

yourfinsta omg delete that oscar you weird freak boy i look so trashy!!!!!!

pastryboy No

lnorizz you ARE trashy

yourfinsta when i next see you it's on sight

yourbff babygirl is not old!

yourfinsta thank you ! ! !

pastryboy perhaps ur right...

honey3badger neither am i!

yourbff keep dreaming

pastryboy no grandad

charllec isnt it time for your afternoon nap?

maxxie33 let him live in delusion guys

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

lnorizz posted a story

liked by honey3badger, pastryboy and others

honey3badger she's gonna be mad at you

lnorizz 😐

yourfinsta i thought we agreed to not call me this.

lnorizz we did??!

yourfinsta ur so fake

lnorizz get over it😠

yourfinsta

liked by honey3badger, maxxie33, and others

yourfinsta DICK PANCAKES

tagged: honey3badger

view all comments

honey3badger dick pancakes!!!

pastryboy dick pancakes

lnorizz dick pancakesss 🕺

sainzjr dick pancakes!!!

charllec dick pancakes.

maxxie33 dick pancakes?

gruss cock cakes

yourfinsta okay

gruss i hate you

honey3badger posted a story

liked by yourbff, yourfinsta, and others

sainzjr aww you finally posted something nice

yourfinsta omg thanks babe 😵

yourbff mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry.

honey3badger ????

yourbff what u want now

yourfinsta posted a story

liked by yourbff, charllec, and others

maxxie33 was i not invited

yourfinsta you ignored my texts.

yourfinsta COME NOW.

maxxie33 okay fine

yourbff posted a story

liked by yourfinsta, honey3badger, and others

sainzjr at least it looks like they actually like each other for once

liked by yourbff

charllec let's get y/n so drunk

yourbff good idea

yourfinsta you jealous or something

honey3badger

liked by charllec, yourbff, and others

honey3badger my drunk gf post

tagged: yourfinsta

view all comments

charllec how did she get so drunk

gruss it might've been when you were feeding her champagne, not sure though

charllec i think that was you

yourbff definitely was george

yourfinsta lol

lnorizz you guys are too old for this behaviour now

honey3badger you're on thin ice

yourfinsta watch your back 🔪

yourfinsta posted a story

liked gruss, pastryboy, and others

yourbff still hot tho

honey3badger 😍

lnorizz walk it off

yourfinsta stfu

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, danielricciardo, and 319,203 others

yourbff on main HAHAHAH

landonorris sorry did i trigger you this much

yourusername blocked and reported for spam

user1 who is this about y/n

user2 is this about lando and oscar always calling you old

charles_leclerc i know you're not talking about me

user3 LOL ILY GRID MOTHER

danielricciardo you're telling me!

yourusername run away together?

danielricciardo YES

THE END 🤍

[stervrucht]

🧠🪱 Wiggly Wednesday 🧠 🪱

Thank you for the tag @just-my-latest-hyperfixation 🧡

Today I’m thinking about this ridiculous story of a friend of mine, who, after she thought she’d been ghosted, proceeded to hold a cremation by burning the guy’s picture, only to receive a text right after.

“Where are we going, Eddie?”

Dustin’s tone is starting to grate on his nerves and Eddie needs to take a deep breath to calm his voice before responding. 

“I told you, a small detour.”

“Through the woods? What about the guitar lessons?”

“Yes, through the woods," Eddie snaps. 

He doesn’t even have to look to his side to know Dustin is pouting. Despite that, the little guy still follows him, ducking underneath the brush as they make their way to Skull Rock. 

He didn’t tell Dustin—doesn’t think there’s an adequate way to explain that this was what he did whenever he was dealing with a serious bout of heartbreak. That—because Steve Harrington hadn’t been answering his phone and clearly dumped Eddie without the courage to say so to his face—Eddie now needed to initiate the Cremation Stage. 

Yeah, you heard that right.

It first happened three years ago, after Stacy Morgan landed on him during a game of spin-the-bottle and cried after kissing him. That one kinda stung. 

After a bit of dumb back and forth, he and Gareth decided to cut her picture from the yearbook and held a stupid little funeral—speeches and all. After they were done and said their goodbyes, they burned the picture. It made him feel better. So much so, that it became a dumb little habit.

One he hadn’t executed that often, really.

Which is why it sucks so much he is off to Skull Rock, the place he first kissed Steve Harrington against the expectations of everyone ever, to burn his stupid picture.

When they finally reach Skull Rock, Eddie digs through his pockets and pulls out his Zippo and Steve’s picture. Dustin leans over his shoulder, knees digging into the back of Eddie’s arm as he leans over to watch.

“Why do you have a picture of Steve?”

“Because.” Eddie strikes the Zippo, trying to make it catch flame, but the old thing is protesting.

“Because why?”

The stupid thing still won’t catch. Eddie strikes his thumb over the wheel with a little more aggression—pulls his lips into a thin line, frustration pulling at his gut. “Because I need to burn it.”

“Why?”

Eddie throws his hands. “Because I have to okay! Because—”

Because Steve’s finally realized Eddie was a mistake. And Eddie knew the day would come. He was just pushing his head in the sand like a fucking ostrich, hoping he could enjoy what little time Steve was willing to give him. He just hoped Steve would have had the guts to actually say so to his face.

He can’t tell Dustin any of that though. 

Finally, the Zippo produces flame and Eddie holds the corner of Steve’s yearbook picture near it. It takes a few seconds, but soon enough the picture engulfs into flames and Eddie has to drop it between the twigs and dried leaves. He allows it to burn for a few seconds until the leaves around it start to smolder. He quickly kills the flame with his shoes and once he removes his feet, only ash is left of what was once an image of Senior Steve.

Eddie pulls himself into a standing position and slips the Zippo back into his pocket.

“All done.”

“Dude, that was so weird.”

“No, it wasn’t. And don’t tell Steve about this.” 

Dustin raises an eyebrow at him but probably senses it’s best to not push it.

“Can we go play guitar now?”

“Yeah, man, whatever. Let’s go.”

A little while later, Eddie sits in Dustin’s bedroom, his guitar in his lap as he shows Dustin some chords to Metallica. The little dude learns fast, last week's chords already dexterously mastered. A little more and he’ll be playing his first full song. Now, just to get a feeling for it, he makes Dustin play the same five chords as base while Eddie plays the more complex parts of the song. 

He’s actually starting to get into it when the doorbell to the Henderson residence rings.

“Really, now?” Dustin lets out a frustrated sigh and puts his guitar down on his bed. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie hums and continues picking at the snares. Mumbles along to the song until he hears Dustin return to the room.

“Oh, hey Eddie.”

Eddie looks up. That didn’t sound like Dustin. That sounded like—

“Steve.” Eddie is staring at Steve standing in Dustin’s doorframe. Can’t do anything else than stare because an hour ago, he cremated Steve. 

And now he’s here.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Steve lets out a little laugh. And it’s not the ‘oh shit I ran into my ex’ kind. It’s the genuine kind. The fond kind.

Dustin pushes himself past Steve into his bedroom. “I told you, I’d give it back to you on Monday,” he complains.

Steve rolls his eyes, watching with amusement as Dustin digs through his closet.

“W—where have you been?” Eddie hardly dares to ask. He tries to keep the tremble out of his voice.

“Ugh, my parents man. They took me on some campus visits to fancy universities. Didn’t give me any warning either. It sucked balls.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, not great. How have you been holding up with this asshat the past few days.” Steve looks back to where Dustin is now clearing the lower levels of his closet. 

“I heard that!” he calls back. 

“I…I’ve been doing just dandy.” Eddie shoots Steve a little smile, and yes, that’s definitely fondness in Steve’s face. God, he’s such an idiot.

A total overreaction. 

When Dustin rears his head from the closet, proudly holding a cassette tape, Eddie thinks he needs to make sure Dustin takes this little Skull Rock detour to the grave. 

---

No pressure tags for @sleepy-steve @spectrum-spectre @runninriot @wheneverfeasible @eddiethebrave

[unconventional-lawnchair]

...Too Late."

Remus Lupin x Potter!Reader

Summary: Remus comes to terms with a love lost to his own insecurities.

CW; Use of {Y/N}, Remus is dumb, yearning}

Wc: 3706

Part two

The cold night air nipped at Remus’s skin with an intensity he wasn't familiar with. He kept himself focusing on anything other then the bright lights and muffled music behind him.

He wasn't unused to the parties the Potters would throw, they were always over the top and loud, especially when James planned them. Remus would always do his rounds, speak to people he hasn't spoken to since Hogwarts, and then disappear in some quiet corner with one of Lily’s many books. Tonight? He would do anything to go home.

It wasn't the party, it wasn't his friends, for once it wasn't Sirius’s obnoxious drunken stunts. Nothing like that could send the werewolf running with his tail between his legs.

Of course, it could only be you.

“Woah, pretty cold out here, hm?” Your voice called out into the balcony from where you peaked out the door. Remus grimaced, what did he expect? Of course you would come looking for him. You two were best friends.

“Something on your mind, little Lupin?” You persisted despite his lack of acknowledgement. Remus would have rolled his eyes if he could keep the small smile off his face. You had a talent for making him feel a million emotions at once.

Ever since the day James introduced him to his older sister, the Quidditch captain, turned prefect, turned head girl. Now? Celebrated Auror. A full fledged detective.

Here he was, two years graduated and already falling behind. When he was younger, you were so unobtainable. Gone before he even hit year five. There, he could pretend that his heart didn't ache at your name, that you weren't always on his mind, that he didn't spend sleepless nights telling Lily just how much it pained him to know he'd never be worth your time.

He felt like a sap. Like a sad excuse of a man to know you hadn't spent a minute thinking about him the ways he thought of you.

“Remus?” Your voice was closer this time. You had your hands on the railing and were looking at him with such sweet eyes. Ones he remembered from his nights up in the hospital wing, with you reciting old notes from your previous years you had kept, while others studied in the classrooms.

“Hey, {Y/N}.” He mumbled and you clearly grimaced, making him look away from you.

“Have I...” You fiddled with your fingers, looking off at the manor you grew up running around. “Have I done something wrong, Remus?”

“What?” He whispered and turned to face you fully, his face falling hard. He had the chance to fully take you in. You were beautiful, but he knew that. Your hair was shorter then he remembered, your eyes were brighter, you looked.. happier. But even then, you were frowning, your brows furrowed, and it was because of him.

You gave a half sigh half scoff as you gestured between the two of you. “I haven't seen you in three years, Rem. You took one look at me and walked away.”

Remus felt his heart sink a bit at your tone. He hated to disappoint you, but what could he do to make this better? “I-” What could he say to make this hurt less? His voice came out like a pathetic whisper. “I didn't mean to, I just didn't know.. what to say? What to do?”

You have another, much more clear scoff. You raised an eyebrow, and the look on your face was a blend of confusion and something deeper. Something that made his stomach churn. “How to act? Remus, we were best friends. We still are, aren’t we?” You bit your cheek and look back at him, locking your eyes. “Even if you insist on pretending you don't know me.”

Remus felt the heat rise to his ears, an all-too-familiar rush of embarrassment mixed with guilt. A weird mixture that he seemed to seep in whenever you were around. It was never his intention to push you away, but the fear of his feelings had always loomed larger than the friendship you carried. He didn't want to be your friend. But he would have you anyway he could, even if it hurt him more then he'd like to admit. It felt like a weight too heavy to carry, and he had thought that distancing himself would lessen the burden.

“I…” He started, but the words tangled in his throat. You sat there patiently. You always did. From his monthly outlashes to his damaged moping after. “You don’t understand. It’s not that I don’t care about you. It’s just... every time I see you, it feels like I’m standing on the edge of something I can’t have.” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes squishing closed. “You’re amazing, {Y/N}. You’ve done so much, and I-”

“Remus,” you interrupted, taking a step closer, your eyes searching his. Carefully, you placed a hand on his arm and it was like every knot in his body released. “You’re amazing too. You just graduated not but two years ago, and you’re already doing incredible things. I've heard about how you've joined the order, that's amazing. Everyone speaks so highly of you, please. You can’t keep comparing yourself to me. I’m not some unattainable ideal. I’m your friend. You know me, I'm just {Y/N}.”

“I'm just {Y/N}.”

You've said that to him so many times you'd think he'd listen.

But each time, it felt like a reminder that no matter how much you downplayed your accomplishments, with your Potter humility, you were still lightyears ahead of him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow unworthy of you, that your brilliance only served to highlight his own insecurities. You were the sun, you always would be. And he could only reflect what you saw in him. With all your light, he could only admire it.

“{Y/N}, you don’t get it.” He said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You’ve always been the one in the spotlight, and I’m just... me.” He gestured to himself, before giving a low sigh. “Can we talk about something else?”

You frowned, your brow furrowing as you considered his words. “So you think I’m only here for the spotlight? That I wouldn’t choose to be around you just because you feel like you don’t measure up?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he replied, his voice rising with each word. “It’s not that simple! I care about you too much to drag you down with me. I want you to be happy, and I’m not-”

“Remus, don't.” You cut him off and lifted your hand. He could hear your voice crack, the corners of your eyes glistened. He felt his heart break, again and again, as he admired the glistening rock on your fingers; one far bigger then he could ever afford. “You don't get to do this. You don't get to ignore me for years and then.. profess your love! Like that just makes every night I spent just waiting-”

Your voice finally cracked and you sniffled, quickly drying your tears with your open palm. “Waiting for you to say it.”

“{Y/N}...”

“No.” You shook your head and sniffed a bit. “I'm not letting you do this. Not at my engagement party, Remus. Your timing is shit and I deserve someone who won't shut me out. Won't make me wait-”

“Won't know you longer than a year before getting on one knee for you?” He snapped back and you gave a bitter laugh.

“A man who loved me enough to get over himself!” You shouted back and he shook his head.

“Oh right, because Benjy Fenwick has so much to get over, right? That pretty scarless face and his normal full moons?” He shouted. “How long did he have to pine after you for you to entertain him?”

“You don't get to pick at him. You don't get to diminish our relationship because you didn't take me when you could have had me!”

The air between you crackled with tension, both of your hearts laid bare in the chilly night and icy glares. Remus could feel the sting of your words hitting him harder than any hex ever could, and it cut deeper than his own self absorbed pity. He had never meant to make you feel small, and yet here he was, pushing his own insecurities onto you.

“I didn’t mean to-” He felt his words catch in his throat, but even those words fell flat, lost in the weight of your confession. He could of had you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, and it twisted his gut in a way that was both familiar and so foreign he was sure it wasn't his own body..

“You didn’t mean to what, Remus?” Your voice dripped with frustration, the vulnerability from moments ago replaced with an anger he was never on the receiving side of. “You didn’t mean to ruin the night? What we had? You didn’t mean to push me away? Or maybe you just didn’t mean to love me at all?”

The last words hung in the air and he could only look down at your left hand again. It was like a wall, something blocking him away from what he truly wanted. Something he waited far too long for.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating, as the reality of your words settled in. Remus felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him, leaving him teetering on the edge of a precipice he had never wanted to face. His yearning. The air was heavy with all the things left unsaid, all the moments he had missed, and all the chances he hadn’t taken.

Was this one? Or should he drop it too? Would it be better for him to push? For him to take the chance? Or let you go.

“{Y/N}…” He managed, but the words felt insufficient, like a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm that had grown between you. One he chiseled out himself over the years he was too much of a coward to face you. “I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe me.”

Your gaze softened momentarily, but the hurt was still there, raw and so clear. “You didn’t just hurt me, Remus. You left me wondering what I did wrong. Why you couldn’t see me for who I really was. I'm not some hero I'm just.. I'm just a Potter. I was just a girl who-.” Your voice trembled, and he felt a pang in his chest, like a physical ache at the thought of causing you pain. “Who loved you, Remus. Who loved you so much.”

“I thought I was protecting you.” He said, desperation creeping into his tone. “I thought if I stayed away, you’d be happier. That maybe I wouldn’t be a burden on everyone I knew. You were special. You were special to me, {Y/N}.”

“Were.” You whispered. “Was. I was. You were too Remus.”

“{Y/N}, please-”

“Hey, princess, you out here?” It was like a lightning bolt had struck, cutting through the tension that had built up like a storm cloud between you. Leaving its damaging crackles between you two, blocking Remus from crossing the line. The lovely voice of Benjy Fenwick echoed from inside the house, and your expression shifted instantly- a mask of calmness slipping over the raw emotion that had just been laid bare between you.

“Just a minute!” You called back, though your gaze remained locked on Remus, a flicker of panic showing in your eyes. He could see the struggle within you, the desire to stay and confront the truths that hung in the air, but also the need to go back to him, to shield yourself from the pain he had caused. To be with the man who was months away from promising that pain like this would never cross your face again.

“{Y/N}…” He started again, his heart racing. He felt as if he were grasping at smoke, trying to hold onto you with so much desperation. He could see it, however, you were already gone.

“Remus, I…” You hesitated, glancing back towards the door where Benjy’s voice called again, more impatient this time. “I can’t do this right now.”

With that, you took a step back, breaking the weathering connection that had tethered you together just moments before. The warmth of your hand on his arm faded, and he was left feeling colder than ever. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, like a spell cast that he couldn’t break.

“Please.” He begged, his voice a mere whisper now, barely audible over the muffled music. “Don’t go.”

But you were already turning away, caught between two worlds- the past and the future, the love you had shared and the life that was now laid out before you. He couldn’t blame you for wanting to step back into the safety of the warm lights and laughter, to return to the life that felt secure, even if it meant leaving him behind. Leaving him to watch helplessly as you fell into the arms of a man that was nothing like him.

“Remus.” You warned, your voice trembling as you faced him one last time. “I need to go. I can’t keep doing this. Not now.”

Your eyes were filled with a mixture of nostalgic pain and resolve, and in that moment, he could see the conflict raging within you. But he felt powerless to change your mind, to convince you to stay and unravel the tangled web of emotions that had ensnared both of you. He was taking his last stand for you.

“Wait.” His voice cracked, stepping forward, his heart pounding so loud he couldn't hear anything but your voice. “I know I messed up. I know I made you wait, and I know I pushed you away. But I don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

Your gaze dropped to the ground, and he could see the battle you were fending off with yourself. “Remus, you’re not losing me,” you pushed, your voice softening, though the distance between you felt greater then ever. “You made your choice when you walked away. You chose to shut me out.”

“No, I chose to keep you safe.” He insisted, desperation taking a full hold on his voice. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I stayed away, I wouldn’t ruin your life. But I see now that all I did was make you feel alone.”

You inhaled sharply, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of understanding in your eyes. “You don’t know what it feels like to be waiting in the dark, Remus. You don’t know what it’s like to love someone who won’t let you in.”

His heart ached at your words, and he took another step closer, reaching out as if he could draw you back into the warmth of his arms, at least as a friend, the connection that had once felt so unbreakable. “I'll let you in now. I’m here. I’m ready to be what you need. Just give me a chance. Please.”

But you shook your head, the resolve returning to your features. “You had your chance, Remus. And I’m not going to break another heart just to spare mine-”

“Ours.” He insisted and you shook your head. You tried to hide it, but he could see it. You weren't over him. And he clung to the chance like it was a life line.

“Baby! There you are!” Benjy laughed as he opened the patio door. He stepped out and Remus watched as you schooled your expression and gave him a dazzling smile. Your mascara was smokey now, he could see how much you were clearly bothered in the new light.

Benjy didn't notice. “Pretty girl, it's freezing out here!” He chuckled and took off his jacket, placing it over your shoulders and put his arm around you. You just laughed and shook your head.

“It's not that bad.” You tried to placate and he didn't seem to notice your words. His cheeks flush and clearly a bit drunk.

“Hey! Remus, right? You're the new kid who joined the order, aren't ya? You know each other?” He mused and gestured between you two.

Remus felt a wave of nausea wash over him at Benjy’s familiarity with you. The warmth of your laughter felt like a dagger to his heart, twisting as he forced a smile in return, though he could feel the edges of his resolve crumbling.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He nodded, his voice low as he tried to mask the bitterness he felt. He wanted to say more, to challenge the ease with which Benjy wrapped his arm around you, but the words stuck in his throat. It felt as if he were standing on the sidelines of a game he had once played, now just a spectator to the happiness he had allowed to slip away.

You turned to Benjy, your eyes sparkling with a mix of affection he knew used to belong to him. “I was just enjoying some fresh air. Remus was keeping me company.”

“Oh, really? I thought I’d find you two out here reminiscing about your Hogwarts days.” Benjy chuckled, oblivious to the reminder only making you wince. “Thanks for keeping her entertained, bud.”

Benjy clapped his hand to Remus’s arm and turned, pulling you closer. “Let's get inside, yeah? Gonna freeze my tits off.”

His crude comment shocked a laugh out of you, making Remus flinch.

“Yeah, let’s get inside.” You hummed with a nod, your voice carrying a cheerfulness that felt forced. Remus wanted to scream, to reach out and pull you back, to tell you everything he had been too scared to say. But the words remained lodged in his throat, heavy with the weight of regrets unspoken.

As you turned to walk back inside, Remus felt the distance between you grow. He wanted to call after you, to stop you and lay bare his heart, but the laughter and music from the party surged around him, drowning out his thoughts.

He was losing you, and he knew it. The very thought made his heart ache, a dull throb that reverberated through him. It was a pain he had grown accustomed to over the years, but now it felt all too real, all too present, and he couldn’t bear it.

“Hey, Remus!” James's voice suddenly broke through the fog of his despair as he approached, a bright smile on his face. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Just… catching some fresh air. {Y/N} was keeping me out of my head.” Remus muttered, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He could see the excitement written all over his face, but it felt miles away, a world he no longer belonged to.

“Come inside! You’re missing the best part!” James insisted, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve got some games going on, and Lily’s got a surprise planned. You’ll want to be there for it.”

Remus nodded, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Alright, but don’t keep us waiting too long!” James called, heading back into the house, leaving Remus alone once more.

With a heavy sigh, Remus leaned against the railing, staring out into the night. The stars twinkled above him, indifferent to his turmoil, and he felt a hollow emptiness settle in his chest. He had always been good at hiding from the world, but now, he felt exposed and vulnerable, stripped of the defenses he had built around himself.

He glanced back toward the door, his heart racing as he thought about the laughter and joy that awaited him inside. But more importantly, you were inside, and he was terrified of what that meant.

The sound of laughter drew his attention back to the door, and he caught a glimpse of you and Benjy, surrounded by a group of friends. Your smile was genuine, your laughter infectious, and the way you leaned into Benjy, it stung more than anything he could have imagined. He almost heaved when he saw you give him such a gentle and loving kiss.

“Just say it.” He whispered to himself, the words echoing in his mind. “Just tell her how you feel.”

But the words wouldn’t come. He had waited too long, and now it felt like it was too late. Could he even do that? Could he ruin your chances at a normal life? That was what he wanted, right? You to be happy? To not be plagued with what he was?

As the door swung shut behind James, sealing you away with a future he couldn’t be a part of, Remus felt a sense of finality settle over him. He couldn't face you. It was done. He had let you slip through his fingers, and now all he could do was watch as you moved on without him.

With a final glance at the door, he turned away from the party, the music fading into the background as he made his way down the steps and into the darkness. He could feel the weight of his heart, heavy with regret, but he knew he had to keep moving forward, even if it meant leaving you to travel down your own path. One that had nothing to do with him.

Somehow, he would have to learn to live with the choices he had made, the love he had thrown away. And somehow, he would have to learn to live with the fact that he had lost the one person who had meant everything to him.

As he walked away from the Potters’ home, he felt the cold night air wrap around him more then before, a stark reminder of the warmth he had just lost. And with each step, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was leaving a piece of himself behind- one he might never get back.

His heart always preferred you anyway.

[laylarevengers]

dancing with our hands tied. manjiro sano x fem! reader. bonten timeline. established relationship (marriage). established biological son. changes like emma, shinichiro, izana are around alongside most ‘dead’ characters in this arc. overall fluff!

“hey, don’t do that. you’ll get hurt.” manjiro mumbled, stretching his arms and pushing his son back from the table he was gladly going to walk into. it was weird, having two people that he loves this dearly, that is. y/n and his son. every time he watched the three-year-old kid play around in his office, ruin papers and invade executives meetings with his barely audible words; it made manjiro’s heart flutter. fuck, he loved that kid to hell and back.

he wanted to leave. get away and ensure that this kid won’t be tied to him, have him have a normal life without any fear, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t leave. he left y/n once and it was the worst time of his life, what will happen when he leaves her and his son again? the light of his life? the only ones that make him laugh that boyish smile he used to have in his toman days.

“dad!” a whiney voice snapped manjiro and out of his thoughts. he sat one of the meeting rooms with the executives, all waiting for some snobby people to have a dumb finance meeting with, all with the child running around the room. y/n had work, manjiro does not trust babysitters, and the executives are here so he had no choice but to have him attend with him.

‘teach them young,’ manjiro chuckled when he remembered y/n’s words at the decision to take the kid. little fingers pointed at the haitani brothers, “ran, candy!” mikey’s full attention was on the broken, mumbled words spoken. he hummed, “yeah? ran toke your candy?” he couldn’t help but smile at the desperate nods from the little boy and how he crossed his arms with a small pout, glaring at ran and rindou who couldn’t control their laughter anymore.

it was crazy, manjiro thought, how much of a carbon copy of him this kid was. the same silky black hair that y/n insisted on letting grow, similar to how mikey had it in his toman days. the same big, black eyes but unlike his own, the boy’s was full of light and sparkles whenever he looked at his dad. he stood there, small and arms-crossed, wearing the cardigan auntie emma had crocheted him with the sweatpants and snickers that he bought with uncle izana and uncle shinichiro after motorcycle rides.

manjiro bent down and picked the little boy, sitting him on his lap. small arms immediately wrapped themselves around mikey’s neck, “did ran and rin make you sad?” manjiro mumbled, patting the boys back. he heard a small sniff then a muttered, “yes.” it was times like these where the executives saw the real manjiro. when he was around his son or his wife, soft and gentle and happy.

manjiro turned boy around, “sanzu is right there. go tell ‘em.” he pointed at the pink haired man who just walked into the room. ran and rindou groaned in fake fear as the little boy smiled widely and rubbed the tears away with his sleeve. he quickly got off mikey’s lap and ran towards sanzu who almost immediately put the cigarette he had in hand when he heard the small call of his name, “san-zoo! ran-rin, candy!”

mikey watched as the boy jumped in anticipation in front of sanzu. “oh, yeah? you want me to take care of them?” sanzu bent down so he was face to face with the boy. “yes! can we, dad?!” manjiro noted how clearer his words were becoming now, he had to tell y/n later tonight. he nodded, giving the boy permission which immediately made him burst into laughter and giggles as he ran towards the haitanis with screams and hit them with small fists to which they pretended to get hurt by with fake groans and cries of pain.

manjiro audibly laughed. “the assholes are here,” koko told him. mikey hummed, “hey. no cursing.” god, he’s such a dad. manjiro called the boy by his nickname which immediately caught his attention. it was always like that. the boy admired his dad so much. “come on. you gonna sit with dad as he listen to some assholes?” koko could only roll his eyes. the boy ran excitedly towards his dad, climbing onto his lap while refusing any help with the task until he sat completely and placed his small hands on the table with a small serious face.

the bonten executives all let out small chuckles as manjiro ruffled the boy’s hair, “good job. ‘always making dad proud.” the boy rested his back onto mikey’s chest and holding his wrist with a small shy smile.

manjiro sighed heavily as he locked the front door after coming in. he toke off his shoes, making sure the boy sleeping in his arms would not be disturbed. he glanced at the shoe wardrobe they have by the door and could not find y/n’s shoes placed outside the wardrobe indicating she came come. weird. it’s really late.

he continued into the penthouse until he reached the living room closest to the master bedroom where he placed the small boy on the sofa, slowly taking off his white sneakers. “jiro,” mikey turned around and saw her. he could not help but smile, “hey.” he replied lowly as she made her way towards both her boys, placing a small kiss on each of their forehead.

she was still in her work clothes, mikey noticed. they both sat on the floor, leaning on the couch where their boy laid, heavily sleeping. “how was today?” she asked with a whisper, brushing strands of black hair away from the small face of the sleeping boy. mikey shrugged, “practically spent all day in the meeting. we got cupcakes after we were done. that’s it really.” y/n looked up at manjiro with a small smile, “cupcakes?”

he lowered his eyes from hers. ‘kinda want cupcakes… anyway, where is ___’s white sneakers?’ words uttered by y/n this morning as all three of them got ready. manjiro always did that; made sure neither of his two stars went to bed without having anything they wanted. he has money, he’s not using it and he loves seeing the small giggles and laughter erupted after he gets things as small as cupcakes or a lollipop.

“he asked to come to work with me again,” manjiro said. y/n smiled, “yeah? are you going to take with you?” her fingers stopped playing with long black hair and turned to play with much shorter black hair. “i’ll take him with me when it’s boring days like these.” y/n understands he means when he doesn’t have to use guns and get chased by the authorities. she was a worrier, especially when it came to her little boy, but she doesn’t trust anyone more than she does manjiro sano.

“you’re thinking.” she mumbled, eyes not wandering away from mikey’s face. he remained looking in front of him, tangling his fingers with hers, “‘saw a normal company, business man with his little daughter at the bakery. made me think. fuck, i’m a mess.” he chuckled, his un-intertwined hand coming to push his hair back from his face. y/n cupped his face with her free hand, “well, you’re the mess that i want. that we both want.”

“y/n, people will talk. put us in our place. threaten. they will—“

“manjiro sano. you think i don’t know? i knew no one in the world could take it, but…”

“but you,” mikey finished her sentence immediately. silence fell again before y/n spoke up once more, “you know we won’t be able to do anything without you. ‘need you, jiro, both of us do. always will do.” before manjiro could muster up a reply, a small yawn caught their attention. “mama..!” tired excitement erupted from the boy as he stretched his arms towards y/n. “hi, baby. had fun with dad?”

“always!”

manjiro’s eyes widened slightly at the boy’s reply. y/n’s small chuckled alongside the tired giggles of his son made him feel warm. tracing everything, they were making him a better man. giving up alcohol and cigarettes, rarely forcing anger out and using rationality because his little boy could always be around and looking at dad.

“i love you,” manjiro suddenly said to the both of them. “love dad!” the boy replied without hesitation, hugging both his parents. y/n rested her head on manjiro’s shoulders, “i love you more.” she whispered softly, helping their boy comfortably lay on the both of them and drift back to sleep.

they will wake up with the worst back pain, but manjiro wanted it that way if it meant having this. having them. because he knows he needs them more than they will ever need him and he was way more than okay with that.

[dilfl0v3rss]

all yours

when it came to your safety, onyankopon played zero games. if he felt even the slightest bit of worry he had no problem getting you from wherever you may be. there have been times where you’ve been walked out of parties, stores, and even something as little as a smoke sesh with your girls. if ony felt you were unsafe you were going home no questions asked, and you honestly didn’t have an issue with it. feeling a sense of pride in having a man that cares so deeply for you. that was until tonight…

the two of you were at your friend ivy’s place for her big housewarming party when you were getting weird stares from a couple hating ass bitches. ivy didn’t want her party to be small so she told each person she invited to tell some friends to come as well. which led to this weird ass bitch brielle hearing about the party and deciding to curse everyone with her presence. brielle was an old fling of ony’s that he been cut off like a year ago, but she’s so thick in the head that she still runs her mouth about him to this very day. you, being the classy woman you are, have been ignoring the bitch because it honestly was sad of her to be acting like this, but today she reached her limit.

when you and ony first arrived everything was great. “heyy bitchhhh. so glad y’all could make ittt.” ivy screamed as she welcomed you and ony into her new home. ony greeted her with a small “wassup, thank you for havin’ us” before letting you have the floor, walking towards jean and connie to talk. “hey boooo. this place is niceeee you gotta let me spend the night sooon” the two of you talked for awhile before she let you go to get a drink from the kitchen. as you filled your red solo cup halfway with casamigos you noticed some girls approaching where your boyfriend and his friends were. before being able to move, you were stopped by sasha, mikasa and.

sasha was the first to talk. “you peep that shit right?” she said, nodding her head towards the girls. you knew if one of your friends was going to say something about what was going on it would be sasha. mikasa was on the quieter side, but best believe when it came to you she didn’t play either. “yea i see em. that bird ass bitch and her lil flock of pigeons tryna play games” the three of you watched as brielle and her little sidekicks were all up in you boyfriend’s faces. brielle being the main one, lightly hitting ony’s chest while she laughed. her red bussdown was flowing behind her as she pushed it over her shoulder, purposely trying to bounce her tiddies as she “fixed” her hair.

being the levelheaded woman you are, you decided against approaching them. knowing that you’d probably knock the bitches head off her shoulders if you went anywhere near her right now. so you pulled out your phone and sent ony a quick and simple text. ony looked at his phone almost immediately, knowing it was you who texted him since he had it on dnd for everyone else.

my wife💐

‘tell that bitch move around or ima drag her outta here omm😐’

as soon as he read the text, ony lifted his head and began searching for you. soon he locked eyes with yours, excusing himself from whatever conversation was going on and making his way to the kitchen. “what’s wrong now?” is this nigga dumb? did he not just see and feel that bitch being weird touching on him? “nun bruh just tell that hoe to keep her distance. that hair look new and i’d hate to have that shit on the floor” as the two of you conversed you couldn’t help but peep ivy and her friends start to mug you and your girls. eventually making their way towards you. before you can even point it out your thoughts were cut off by sasha. “yea i’m finna flip dis hoe. got me all the way fucked up.”

ony watched your friends start to remove their earrings and adjust their clothes, and being the nonconfrontational man that he was he decided it was time for you to go. “go tell ivy we leavin’ and wait f’me in the car ma. i’ll get you a slice of ca-” “nah i’m good right here.” you cut him off, eager to see what this bitch was on. as they approached y’all you see that sasha and mikasa were quick to be at your side, standing face to face with each of brielle’s friends. “you got a problem wit me shawty?” brielle smirked, looking you up and down and taking pride in pissing you off. but your mouth was smart and even though it got you in trouble with your man, there was nothing you couldn’t handle when it came to other people.

“nah but you seem to have a problem that i got the nigga you want” you spit back with a smile. you could see that your comment got under her skin. she was rolling her eyes as she replied. “nah ion got a problem when i know i can have em right back anytime. like last saturday for instance.” this bitch is a liar and you knew it. laughing at loud as both her and your friends looked at you confused. last saturday ony was home the entire day, and you can only remember it so vividly because he had you face down in the mattress for cursing him out over being late to brunch. you also remembered it so vividly because he recorded most of it on your phone. “tuhh bitch please pick a different lie because you know damn well he was with me. now are we gon sit here and chit chat or you tryna take this outside cause ian really with allat talkin’. ”

before the bird could reply, ony stepped in the middle of yall and tried to play the mediator. “y/n. get in the car, now. and brielle, what we had been over for a long ass time now. give that shit up and move on.” you backed down, feeling that no bitch was worth getting into it with your man. you were lowkey tired of being the bigger person, but knew i’d be better this way than just fighting and possibly ruining your friends party. as you made your way around ony, you gave brielle the illest mug ever to let her know that even though you’re leaving, you still ain’t no bitch. it wasn’t even five seconds since you left the kitchen where you can hear the bitch starting up again. “i don’t know why you still dealin’ wit that bitch. don’t you miss me ponpon?” brielle said in a baby like voice.

“nah chill wit that bitch word bro. and you really needa stop running your fuckin’ mouth bout her too cause i may not be here next time to stop her” you smiled while ony shut that bitch down. you knew he was more on the calm side so hearing him raise his voice a little turned you on. “oh please nigga you know damn well her shit nowhere as good as mine. used to have your soul leaving your body and allat. you can act like you don’t miss me but ik that dick think otherwise.” that was it for you. it was in the blink of an eye when you were dragging that bitch outside by her hair. honestly you needed whatever glue she got bc her shit wasn’t moving an inch. as you pulled her down the steps of ivy’s porch, you felt ony trying to grab at your wrists.

“mama let her hair go right now.” he yelled. you whip your head to the side, face to face with your man as he stared at you with a warning in his eyes. your fingers instantly straightened before brielle dropped to the ground. the stare this man was giving you made your heart start pumping rapidly. through his eyes you could tell that he was saying “don’t test me”, and you had no intention of finding out what would happen if you did. it was almost instantly when ony grabbed the top of your arm, quickly walking you to his car. most of the people were already outside, migrating there as they watched you drag brielle from the kitchen to the porch. ony opened your door and you sat down, ready to leave this whole day behind already. before you could close the door you heard brielle yapping again.

“fuck you bitch you can have the nigga. ain’t nun but a piece of dick anywayssss.” you hopped out the car and sprinted towards brielle with a quickness. as she seen you approaching she tried to square up but her hands were trash. punches were flying from everywhere, connecting right to her face every time. you honestly didn’t really care too much about what she said about you, but when it came to your boyfriend there was a line to be crossed. and she stomped right over it. “keep. my. man. name. out. your. fuckin’. mouth. bitch.” she was now laid on the floor with her arms shielding her bleeding face while you continued to throw blows her way. sasha seen her friends inching up about to jump in and shut it down immediately. “if you move anotha inch ima start swinging too. we don’t do nun of that jumping shit so i wish you would try so i can fuck you up right here.”

her friends looked at each other before back up completely, not wanting any problemsm. before long you felt strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the ground and away from brielle. you were thrown into the backseat of ony’s car before he turned the child lock on, not being able to trust you to not open the door and attack again. he made his way to the front seat and threw a handful of tissue towards you from the glove compartment. the two of you were driving home in complete silence as you wiped your hands clean. usually your man would be lecturing you right now, but there was a calmness to him that frightened you. “umm…are you mad at me?”

he ignored you, asking his own question instead. “why do you get so jealous?” he mumbled, glancing at you in the rear view mirror. you rolled your eyes, acting as if what he was saying was the most ridiculous thing in the world when in actuality, he was right. you knew that ony and brielle been done way before you even came in the picture, but the thought of him even being with her made you feel a way. ony knew you very well and he could tell how you were feeling regardless of what you did or said.

“mama how many times i gotta tell you i’m only yours huh? why can’t you just trust me?” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he kept replaying the nights events over and over again in his head. “how you expect me to trust you when you okay wit letting bitches be in your face? bitches you used to fuck!” you yelled, holding back tears as you moved your gaze out the window. ony opened his mouth to speak, but decided against going back and forth with you any longer. “we’ll fix this at my crib. not finna argue wit you in the car”

when the two of you made it to his apartment, ony wasted no time, leading you to his room before sitting you down on his lap. “so why you don’t trust me?” he asked, his handing running all over your back as he awaited your reply. you looked at the ground tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you tried your hardest to keep your voice from wavering. “i do” ony sucked his teeth at your words, lightly grabbing your chin and facing you towards him so you could see the knowing look he was giving you. “don’t lie mama, you said it in the car. why don’t you trust me?” the tears you’ve been fighting finally broke free as you quickly covered your eyes and sobbed into his lap. “i-it’s not you pa. i-i was just a little jealous b’cause you were letting her….her-” your cries took most of your breath from you, making you have to stop in the middle of your sentence so you can take a breath. “sh sh sh i get it baby. how you want me t’fix it huh?”you shrugged your shoulders at his question, not having an idea on how he could make this horrible night any better. “a-any way you can”

a soft smile made its way to ony’s face as he lightly pushed you down on your back. he removed your bottoms before slowly getting on his knees. “this way okay?” he asked, chuckling at how you eagerly nodded your head as an answer. it wasn’t long before ony had you a blabbering mess, his fingers digging into you slowly as he took in each of you pretty face expressions. “say it again baby” your back was arched off the bed as you repeated the words ony planned to have to chanting all night. “y-you’re all mine shitt” your moans made his dick grow stiff in his pants as ony looked at the sight of your glistening wet pussy. he quickly pulled his fingers out, laying his tongue flat on your clit before eating you out sloppily.

the feeling of his skilled tongue made you scream as you pushed and pulled on his head. “again” he mumbled into your pussy, too addicted to fully take his mouth away as he looked up at your pretty face. “all mine daddy a-all mine” ony sucked softly on your clit, letting his tongue run all over it in his mouth to quickly grab an orgasm out of you. his tactic worked, making him smile as he felt your juices begin to rush out of you and wet his chin. “good girl mama”

ony stood up in front of you, taking in the sight of your post orgasmic glow as he rubbed himself through his sweatpants. the sight of his bulge made you whine in want as you slowly leaned up to free him from his pants. ony quickly grabbed your hand, giving you a soft expression before lightly pushing flat onto the bed. “s’not about me right now mama. let me do this for you ‘kay?” you nodded your head at his words, making ony give you a like tap on your thigh to make you jump. “lemme hear your voice” at the sound of the small “yes” you gave him, ony slowly freed his dick from the confines of his sweats before lining it up with your tight entrance. “say it again”

“you’re all m-….ohmygoddd” the feeling of his thick dick sinking into your walls made a pretty cry fall from your lips. your back arching off the bed as your hand quickly flew to his wrists. ony didn’t let up, his pace slow, but his thrusts deep as he dug into you with love. “yea m’all yours mama. who dick is it?” your eyes were already at the back of your skull. small whimpers falling from your lips as you tried your hardest not to let your mind drift off into the clouds. “s’m….s’mine daddy” your words were slurred as you felt his dick begin to kiss your cervix in a way that made you want to scream. “ooouuu fuckkk”

ony’s pace began to quicken. the force of his quicker thrusts making your body begin to jerk a little on the sheets. he slowly pulled up your shirt, freeing your perky breasts before leaning down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples. the feeling of his wet tongue on the sensitive bud making you grow wetter as you caressed the back of his head. you knew there would be marks in the morning, but you didn’t care. letting your man prove to you how much he loves and cares about you through making sweet love to your body. ony released your nipple with a small pop before moving up to your neck.

the dark purple marks were already beginning to form in both of the areas as he slowly moved his lips to your ear. “say it again f’me mama. don’t want you t’forget” as ony waited for your reply, he leaned up from your body, staring down at you lovingly before pulling out of you completely. you matched his gaze, your brown eyes big and watery as you told him the words he longed to hear. “you’re mine” with that ony flipped you onto your stomach, quickly thrusting back into you before fucking you at a fast pace. his dick kissed all the right places in you as you cried out into the air. “oh…oh my goddd daddy right there!” ony smirked as you continued to moan for him. he just started and you were already ready to make a mess all over the sheets. the sloppy sounds of his dick stroking your pussy ringing through the air as proof.

“s’too soon, need you t’hold it f’me ma. can you do that?” you quickly nodded your head, earning you a hard snap of his hips that made you yelp in pleasurable pain. “what i tell you before? talk t’me baby” he was pounding you into the sheets now, your back arched to perfection as ony kept a hand on your back and another at the top of your ass. “i….i can hold it daddy” a smile spread into ony’s brown features as he listened to your whiny voice. your pussy fluttering as you felt his thumb rub over your tight hole. “you want me to?” he asked, chuckling at how quickly you whined out a “yes daddy….please”. ony moved his hand before letting his spit drip from his mouth to your ass.

lightly rubbing his spit outside the brown hole before he lightly fed it the tip of his thumb. you moaned at the sensation, throwing yourself back on him to get more if his dick along with poking your ass out more. “greedy thing” he groaned before fully sheathing his tumb inside of you. the sight made his dick twitch as ony began to fuck you harder and faster. occasionally stroking your puckering hole with his thumb to keep you on edge.

“you trust me now baby?” he breathed, the sight and sound of your pretty moans and even prettier body making it hard for him not to want to shoot his load deep inside of you. “y-yes daddy….with my life”

“you gon cut out the jealousy shit?” ony began to pound into you, using his free hand to push your arch down deeper as he quickly fucked the both of you closer to your orgasms. “mmm..mhm n-no more” the feeling of his long dick repeatedly hitting your g spot made your legs shake under you as you began to soak the sheets under you with drool. “say it one more time for me beautiful and we gon cum together” tears fell from your eyes at the rush of emotions flowing through your body right now. the feeling of love and trust being the most powerful as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to snap.

“you’re all mine”

[haerenven]

♯┆SOFT SPOT .ᐟ ★ - roronoa zoro

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ────── ⋆ .⺌ ⟡ ⊂ ✦ ⊃ ⟡ ⺌.⋆ ────── ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ────── ⋆ .⺌ ⟡ ⊂ ✦ ⊃ ⟡ ⺌.⋆ ────── ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— you are the only person who can be trusted by Zoro when it comes to his swords, we all know how much he is so possessive and clingy and careful about his swords, but you were absolutely different

— he barely can handle anyone try to touch his swords, but her ?.. absolutely fine, you also sometimes clean his swords and blades until they get Completely clean

— “Zoro, I’ll borrow your swords” she said confidently before stand up and pulled His precious sword Wado Ichimonji and he actually didn’t mind at all ! , he was leaning his head on his arms that placed behind his head and muttered “don’t step over me”, she pulled the sword and looked at the little boy “let’s see what you’ve got” she said with deep tone, meanwhile Zoro lean forward the table, watching and absolutely enjoying the whole scene with proud smirk, and the little boy was He was trembling with fear.

— girls? NAH, her? HELL YEAH !!

— when you with both of Nami and robin go to shopping on new island you guys stopped in, Nami was showing her new clothes to the rest of the crew (with both of Sanji and brook compliment), Zoro was lay on floor on his side and didn’t look.., the robin came and show her new clothes, and still Zoro didn’t care..

— but when you came and show your new clothes, Zoro turned his head to look at you while still laying

— he usually like wasting his free time on training or naps, but if you were free and saw you needing company, all pleasure…

— he usually don’t understand any of things you actually interest in, but he don’t mind listening and when he hear weird things he be like “what the hell is that ?” He looked confused raised an eyebrow and rubbed the back of his neck, but keep listening to anything you say

— and that it the next point !

— Zoro don’t listen to anyone orders only luffy…and you, even he can not even say or admit it, but yeah that true

— “I’ll go to look, too” Zoro said huffed, Sanji stopped him “wait, moss-head !” , Zoro rolled his eyes before placed on Sanji “what?, gotta go to find an old man whose head is cut off, right?”, “you?!, go looking for someone??” Sanji said annoyed , Zoro start getting annoyed “shut up and let me go you shitty cook” , “then who gonna look for you?” Sanji said hating that idea, Zoro thinks before saying “well…” , “he is right, Zoro !! Stay here” chopper said worried and freaking, “you too ?”

— she sighed and said with soft small sweet smile “just wait for us here” she said softly, then Zoro said “alright then…”

— in any sudden fight or any uncomfortable situation, Zoro had this kinda thing it might be habit, that he make sure he step forward A front of you and make sure you behind him to protect you from any sudden attack, (even when everyone knows you are one of the strongest crew members and definitely you can hold yourself)

— when both of you be chosen to go and shopping for the rest as task, when you keep your eyes on any random stuff, specially when it’s something clearly you really like it, he will wait for you to be busy with anything else and then he pick up the same thing you were looking at seconds ago

— when you comeback to the ship he came to your cabin, “hey? I saw that earlier and I thought you might like it”, she gasped softly and smiled joyfully “woah !, thank you zo”

— when one time you both had an random conversation, “I can be anything for you, just tell me what do you want me to be”, she chuckled and shook her head “you’re dumb” she said joking, he had a small “I can be that” (the notebook movie)

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ────── ⋆ .⺌ ⟡ ⊂ ✦ ⊃ ⟡ ⺌.⋆ ────── ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[fangirlingpuggle]

Very very dumb Bleach AU idea where Ichigo(at full power basically soul king level) goes back in time to fix everything ends up way further back like young captain commander time, he's able to fully kill Yhwach and prevent him doing anything at all, no sleep no future quincy war, he also gets involved in making soul society...more so just vetoing anything like central 46 because nothing involving them ended well, and should make things easier and less likely for anyone to manipulate.

He travels around for a bit making sure everything settled and no other persons gonna try to take over the world before not really knowing what to do... when he next checks in on soul society gotei 13's all established and everything seems to be going well, but when he checks in on captain commander he's like 'Well we need someone in charge'

'Isn't that you old man?'

'I can't be fully in charge of all of soul society I run the gotei 13... no we need someone else to run soul society'

'...'

'...no'

Ichigo is now on the run from all the captains who are trying to get him to take over things because a) he's insanely powerful b) he's actually good and not corrupted and will actually care about people and not just the nobles c) He has common sense.

'DON'T YOU HAVE THE SOUL KING FOR THIS?'

'Ichigo I am still convinced you are the soul king'

'I'm not!'

'You haven't aged a single day in the hundreds of years i've known you and you literally bitch slapped Ywatch into oblivion, you also seem to have all the powers..ALL OF THEM'

'...I...I...I mean your wrong... bit I do get it'

And this goes on for centuries Ichigo tying very hard not to have to rule soul society and convince people he isn't the soul king. Only her keeps ending up doing this because he keeps ending up adopting younger versions of captains and others. (It started with the captain commander sending little Jushiro, Kyoraku and a tiny feral Unohana to stop Ichigo he just went big brother mode... he is the one person Unohana will listen to and not try to murder...well when she tries to murder him it's more a game then an actually murder attempt)

Just Ichigo who ends up being big brother to like all of Seireitei, he doesn't age at all but even when the others get older them him still totally see him as their big brother. Him always having at least one or two following him around like ducklings.

Some hollows figuring out how to evolve to arrancar naturally... Ichigo was in Hucheo mundo for a while and his weird reality breaking powers might have affected things. Shinigami are totally chill with them because all of them have seen these types of hollow powers before most grew up seeing Ichigo use them casually. (Also Unohana wants to fight them)

Well until Grimmjow shows up and him and Ichigo are fight flirting just being very weird and all of seretiei are ready to give a shovel talk. Captain meetings are them plotting 'Big brother can do way better'. Captain commander is just watching all this amused.

(None of them realize Grimmjow thought process is

'Wait if I date Kurosaki I get to fight all of them... OI KUROSAKI WE'RE DATING NOW!'

'...WAIT WHAT?')

[lint-beetle4]

Hai! I would like to request a genre I love: Powerful Being In Love With Human - for Wukong x Reader .

Just him being silly and dumb/dopey while crushing on a silly weird mortal while the Monkie gang tries to help wingman <3

A God's Touch (Sun Wukongx Reader Fluff)

I love this so much!

Wukong is notorious for being a silly, cheeky monkey

But never has been particularly dopey, there was always an air of grace and power to him

That all changed when he met you

There was something about you, something that made you slightly different than other mortals

Perhaps it was your connection with his student, perhaps it was just you

Either way, Wukong was acting a bit different once he met you

He'd be slightly more touchy, arms around your shoulder, a tight hug and slight purr from him

At some point his tail would just curl around your arm without him knowing

If you confronted him out it, Wukong would pull away in an instant with a face redder than a baboon's ass and apologies that would have the celestial realm jealous

Every word you said seemed to just charm the stone monkey further like sirens in the sea

It would've concerned Wukong more if he cared at all

No, instead all he wanted was you, to be with you, to care for you, and just have your presence with him as much as possible

Despite everything, Wukong never seemed to understand what a crush really was

Which meant MK and his friends would have to do the work for him and explain to the old monkey very gently that he was down bad for you

"So...What you're saying...Is that I'm in love." Wukong repeated to a very desperate MK. "That just doesn't make sense though."

"Monkey Man!" Mei groaned. "You literally just said that you wanted to be with them for all eternity! And, that's not love?"

"Well, how do you know it is love?"

"Do you just--chose not to listen to your body or something?" Pigsy muttered from behind the noodle shop's counter. "Jeez, you've been head over heels for them since you two met-- trust me, I know how it is."

"You've been more touchy with them than any of us." Tang explained further. "You practically melt if they so much as look as you."

Silence rang through the shop, a pregnant pause from the Monkey King before he sighed.

"So what do I do?" Wukong muttered, mostly to himself. "I'm not sure how humans court."

MK laughed, patting his mentor's back. "We got'cha, Monkey King! We'll schedule a date night how about that?"

Thus the night was planned to be held privately, lest the monkey's stage freight get the better of him. Nevertheless, Wukong's nerves still got to him as he walked up as stiff as a board with a smile that screamed fear.

Yet, at the sight of your elegant appearance, at the sight of you and your wonderful face, Wukong relaxed, taking everything in his usual stride.

"So...That's what happened!" Wukong laughed, retelling the slightly embarrassing tale.

Your laugh was like the beautiful symphony of chiming bells to him, and as you recovered from your hysteria, Wukong listened to your words eagerly, taking in your voice as if it were an oasis in a desert.

"Y'know--" Wukong chuckled, looking at you with fond eyes. "You really are wonderful...I--I wouldn't mind if we could try things out."

Your answer was a simple one--after all, the Great Sage Equal To Heaven, courting a simple human like you.

"You're not simple." Wukong interrupted with a mutter. "You're...everything."

It was truly a nearly impossible feat to have the king so deeply entranced with you. You never thought you'd see the day where Sun Wukong would confess--to you of all people. Yet, as your fingers run through his soft mane, as his purrs rumbled through your body and his arms hugged you as if you'd disappear.

You felt as if you'd been blessed by the celestial realm itself.

[portgasdwrld]

☆ Special candy

Summary; Ace ate a candy and turned into the opposite sex lol, I feel like it would be a dumb situation he would put himself into 💀🏃🏻‍♀️

Warning: f!reader, fluff/comedy

Authors note: I finally came to the rescue of the Ace’s fic shortage

｡･:*˚:✧｡

Earlier in the day at an island ⁑

You two passed by a boutique who looked quite old and there was bunch of unique objects outside of the store, which automatically caught y’all eyes.

-They have cool bracelets! We should get matching ones babe!

Ace enthusiastically exclaimed grabbing two bracelet and heading inside the old store. You chuckled and followed your boyfriend inside, with a smile.

A woman who seemed to be a bit older than you two welcomed y’all into the store. She pushed her dark long hair behind her shoulder as she fixed her glasses and continued knitting, which seemed to be scarf.

-Mmm, look there is more options..

Ace pointed at with a serious expression. He got closer to the wall where multiple bracelets were hanging. You approached him and started observing them with him.

-If you buy two, you get a discount in the rings.

The woman spoke without looking at us. Ace looked at you brushing off his shoulders. He wasn’t really into rings but he pointed them, insisting you look to see if you like anything. As you looked through them, he walked around the store, a smile floating on his lips to the view of all the weird objects.

-Y’all are a couple?

The seller asked as she leaned over her counter, putting away her knitting project.

-Yeah, why?

Ace asked, his back faced to her. You glanced over at your boyfriend as you walked back to him with nothing, no ring really interested you.

-Y’all wanna try some candies ?

-Candies?

You asked with a cocked eyebrow. You directly thought it was probably some sex thing candy with aphrodisiac propriety. The 2nd commander finally looked back at her.

-I won’t say what exactly what it does, but it might be fun…

-Um n-

-Yeah why not?

Ace beat you to it and accepted as you were about to refuse.

Clearly who were you to just take some random candies from a sketchy boutique.

-You don’t even know whats in the candy

You stated as you rolled your eyes, following him to the cash where he put the two bracelets down, ready to pay.

-Don’t worry it’s not a drug, but I assume as you two seem to be pirates, a little movement in your daily life might be fun and interesting.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her word. You seemed to be the only one skeptic while your lover was done paying. She grabbed a green box with two blue candies. She put each one in a separate bag and slid a note in yours.

-I slid a note for you as you don’t seem to trust me too much. You can read it, but I think it will spoil the fun

She continued with a smile. She didn’t seem like any harm, but you still weren’t very excited about trying something weird from a stranger. Your man grabbed his bag and handed yours with one of the bracelets.

-Alright, thanks !

Ace smiled as he waved at the lady. She smiled back and as we left her store, she went back into knitting with a mischievous smirk.

Later that day ⁑

You threw the shopping bags in a corner in Ace’s room as you jumped into the bed, totally exhausted from walking everywhere. Discovering a new island with him is visiting at least 5 restaurants a day, looking through most boutiques, visiting unpopular spots and making out somewhere and then ending the day at some bar with the rest of the crew. You were exhausted to say the least.

Ace laughed as he watched you laid down on the bed.

-already tired ?

-shut up

You mumbled in a tired tone that stirred another chuckle out of the pirate. You rolled on your back, but something got out of your pocket: the blue candy. You totally forgot about it with everything.

-Oh the weird drug

You said without much enthusiasm as you watched the pink bag on the floor. With a quick move, you grabbed it. Your boyfriend took it out of his pocket with a smirk.

-Should we try it ?

-You do it without me

-Awww come onnn, babeeee

-Nooooo

You pushed yourself further into the sheets, letting your fatigue get the best of you. There was no way you were eating this. You threw the bag in the small bin close to his bed.

-You’re boring

Ace said with a pout and he quickly ate the candy. You honestly didn’t have the energy to scold him or care so you just watched him with a deadpan expression.

-How do you feel?

-Normal?

-Nice, now come lay down with me.

You changed into your pyjama as he slid under the sheets with a simple pair of boxer. You wrapped an arm over his torso and he left a kiss over your forehead as his arm wrapped your shoulders.

-I’m a bit disappointed

-huh?

- the candy

-…I told you it was sketchy

-yeah..

He yawned before pulling you more into him. You chuckled softly to yourself as you shook your head.

-Goodnight, baby~

-Mm..goodnight..

He mumbled as he quickly fell asleep.

***

You didn’t remember that you were so comfortable. Your head was lying down a plushy surface, but as much as you were terribly comfortable, Ace’s hair kept brushing into your face, tickling your nose. You did a mental note to yourself to cut his hair that might have gotten longer than you noticed. You grumbled as you stirred awake. You rolled on your back where you started at the ceiling for a moment to get your eyes used to being open. You rubbed them before turning to your side to stare at Aces sleepy figure.

What you didn’t expect was to literally see a naked woman in the bed just next to you. You screamed in total shock and pushed her & the sheets down the bed. You quickly grabbed Aces dagger on the night stand and shakily sat on the bed, ready to attack.

-Who tf are you??!

You asked completely shaken by the situation. Were you kidnapped in your sleep ?? Did someone broke into Ace room and locked him out or something?

The mysterious woman finally started to raise from the floor and rubbed her head from the shock.

-Waw..what a way to wake up babe..

You paused for a second.

Babe…

Don’t…

You lowered a little the dagger and looked down at the stranger. She was truly not wearing anything than maybe some black shorts. She had brown wavy hair up to her shoulders and had freckles on her cheeks. She looked at you, big brown sleepy eyes.

-Don’t tell me…

-What’s wrong ?

-What’s your name ?

-Huh?

-Just…just answer please…

-Babe, did you lose your memory while sleeping? I’m Ace, your hot boyfrie-WHAAAATTT?? WHY DO I HAVE BOOBS!!?

You finally dropped the dagger on the bed totally defeated. You pushed back your hair, totally stressed out.

This fkg dumbass.

-I guess you’re a woman now..

-HUUHH?? No..no I need to see Marco!

Ace, out of panic, quickly stood up and was about to head outside when you rushed to him and closed the door shut. You leaned against the door and pushed a pillow against his bare chest.

-You can’t go out with your boobs out, dummy! You only have your boxer on!

-Oh..yeah you’re right..

He admitted after looking down at himself.

-let me lend you a shirt or something..

You grumbled to yourself. It was so his type of behaviour to accidentally eat a candy like that. It still felt weird to talk to your boyfriend when he literally was a woman right now, he still was as stunning though.

-Ew, not a shirt, too hot for that

-Ugh you’re so annoying, wanna walk in a bra then?

You said sarcastically as you looked into your basket of clothes.

-That seems about a good idea-OOOooooOh I’m so hot!

You turned around to see him admire himself in the mirror, looking at his face attentively.

-Ugh, I knew I would be a baddie even as a girl.

You scoffed and threw him a red bikini top.

-Here, it matches your aesthetic pretty girl~

You teased him, but it fell on deaf ears. Ace was too focused on his new pair of boobs.

-STOP PLAYING WITH THEM!

You yelled frustrated and flustered as you grabbed the bikini top that fell on the floor. Ace stared at you with his hands still on them.

-Remove your hands, ima fix the top for you so you look somewhat decent outside.

-Thank you baby, you know I love you so much~

He said as he leaned to kiss you, but still unfamiliar with the visual, you stepped back. Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows and you gave him a sorry smile, before pecking his lips.

-Sorry baby, I’m still getting used to it

He gave you a warm smile, stealing a kiss from your lips this time.

-I know, let’s fix this thing so I’m back to normal. I wonder how long it last?

You were now fixing the top at the back, tying it up and making sure he was comfy and had some support.

-Now, that I think of it. Didn’t the lady gave me a paper with all the explanation?

-You’re right! It must still be in the bin!

You walked to the bin and started to search for the bag as Ace put his usual accessories and shorts on.

-Babe…

-Yes?

-I don’t have a dick anymore…

You stayed silent for few seconds contemplating on how to answer this obvious realization. His hand was now on his crotch. He pushed his hair behind his ears as he looked at you with big eyes, totally shocked.

-I found the bag

You ignored his statement and opened the little bag with the candy and the note. You started to read the few lines and sighed relieved.

-Okay it says, it should last a couple of hours, so nothing to worry.

-Nice! Now I’m starving so let’s go eat something!

-The crew is definitely going to be startled !

You laughed as you stared at Ace, still not believing the situation. Your brain couldn’t understand that the person sitting next to you was the man you loved so much, but in your heart nothing truly changed. He chuckled and pecked your cheek as he took your hand in his.

-Yeah, it’s definitely gonna be a lesson

-Will it really be tho?

-Mmm, I don’t know I’m too hungry to think

-Ugh, i gotta admit you are a cute girl~

-Then you know we have few hours to explore this body?

He said wiggling his eyebrows.

-Ace..

-What? I’m curious to know how it fe-

-Let’s go eat!

You heard your boyfriend laugh behind you as you ran to the door. You were starting to be very hungry too and all that mess deserved a well balanced breakfast.

*****

EXTRA

-Hopefully that will be a lesson to this idiot to not eat anything and islander give him-oi

Marco commented with a smirk as he bit into an apple.

-You really think it’s gonna solve his reckless behaviour?

You commented as you shook your head. The commanders have been making fun of Ace since he showed up at the dining hall. It started by total confusion until you explained what happened, which sparked everyone to laugh and tease the second division commander.

-Y’all..are talking…too much sh-

Ace started between huge bites of food and eventually fell asleep.

[suzukiblu]

For the unpublished fic things, Martha Kent?

"Oh," the old guy Superman-not-Superboy just saved from getting flattened by a really irresponsible Metropolis truck driver says, staring at him in surprise. Superman stares back with absolutely no clue what to say. 

"Jonathan!" the old guy's probably-wife cries, running over to them from the other side of the crosswalk. The old guy doesn't look at her, just keeps staring at Superman. 

"I'm alright, honey," he says. Then he grabs her hand and puts it on Superman's arm, and . . . 

And Superman feels a soulmark trigger in his own hand, tucked into the center of his palm under his glove. 

And perfectly mirrored to the one the old guy triggered in the opposite hand about fifteen seconds ago. 

"Oh," the wife says, and now she's staring at him too. "I–oh." 

She blinks very quickly. So does the old guy. They both look like they're about to cry and Superman feels like he's about to panic and really, really wants to just bolt right now and never see either of them ever again. 

Except they're his soulmates, apparently. 

Except they're his parents. 

Apparently. 

Superman did not expect to have any soulmates. Actually, if he'd ever thought to think about it, he probably would've assumed he didn't even have a soul, much less any soulmates to go along with it. And if he'd been expecting anything, he'd have been expecting a hot chick and a romantic mark, not . . . 

In his defense, he's like two weeks old, and he spent the first week unconscious while being artificially aged and force-fed extremely boring information uploads. There's a lot of stuff he hasn't really had a chance to think about yet. 

"Uh. Hi?" he tries awkwardly, resisting the urge to hide his hands behind his back. Which is dumb, really. They can't even see his marks anyway; he's still wearing his gloves. The old guy and his wife stare at him for another moment. 

Then they both start to cry. 

Oh god, Superman thinks, and panics after all. 

"I'm sorry!" he blurts, and then the old guy and his wife both throw their arms around him. Superman has very literally never been hugged in his life and doesn't know how to handle the experience. Like, at all. Especially not coming from two directions at once. 

"Oh, no, sweetheart, it's not your fault," the wife says, her voice thick. "We're sorry. Just–we just lost your brother. We weren't expecting . . ." 

"It's so damn good to meet you," the old man says roughly, hugging him all the harder. Superman can't even figure out if he wants to hug them back, but has a very hard time keeping his TTK up all the same. "Where'd you come from, son?" 

"Uh," Superman says, and doesn't let himself examine the way that hearing the word "son" like that makes him feel, even knowing it's probably just a reflex, coming from a guy who sounds that Midwestern. "I'm–a clone. Of the first Superman. Project Cadmus made me." 

"A clone?" the wife asks, pulling back just enough to give him a worried look. "That's–not like that poor man Bizarro?" 

"A binary clone," Superman clarifies uncomfortably. "They, uh, stabilized me with human DNA. So I shouldn't, uh . . . degrade. Like that." 

He really hopes that's true, at least. 

"Well, we'll handle it if it happens," the old guy says, pulling back too and squeezing his arm. Superman feels oddly reassured, even though there's absolutely no reason to be. Unless the guy's a geneticist, maybe. 

He wants to ask if he can see their marks, but isn't sure if that'd be . . . weird, or something. Would that be weird? 

Cadmus didn't really tell him much about soulmates, which is another reason he wasn't expecting any. 

Cadmus probably didn't want him to have any, come to think. 

Superman swallows nervously and the wife cups his face in her hands. He feels her soulmark against his skin, whatever it is. 

It feels . . . warm. 

He wonders what it'd feel like against his own mark. 

"It really is so good to meet you, baby," she says, smiling tremulously at him. He can process hearing "baby" even less than he could "son". "I'm Martha Kent. This is my husband Jonathan. You can call us Ma and Pa, once you're comfortable with it." 

"What's your name, son?" the old guy–Jonathan, Superman tries to think, because thinking "Pa" sounds way too intimidating right now–Jonathan asks. Superman knows what he wants to say, but . . . 

But for the first time, saying "Superman" doesn't feel . . . honest. 

"Experiment Thirteen," he admits in a mutter, hiding his hands behind his back after all, and both Jonathan and Martha's faces tighten.