#he grew up in a broken home 🥺 he doesn’t want his little girl to be in a broken home 🥺 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

willowser · 2 years

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i am thinking about ex boyfriend touya who is the father of your little girl 🥺 and he works in a tattoo shop and lets her come inside and chill with toga, who runs the front desk, and she always leaves with those little stick on tattoos on her cheeks 🥺 on her face like her dad 🥺

and whenever toga sees you come in, she gets her little coy smile and calls "daaabiiiii~" all sweet and innocent, like she's not going to sit there and reveal how much he still talks about you—even if he is dating someone else now. like she's not going to pick and pry about if you're seeing anyone these days, if you ever think about maybe rekindling the flames.

you think it's fine that he's seeing someone; you've met her twice, a beautiful dark-haired girl that's almost as tall as he is, that nearly matches all the tattoos he has, the piercings. they look like they go together, and you think that's what he likes. she's never been anything but nice, albeit shy, but you suppose you would be too in her position.

touya doesn't look up from his handiwork, when you stand in the doorway of his room. it's all covered, top to bottom, in his own artwork—handrawn and tattooed—or prints from artists he admires. pictures of he and your daughter, her school pictures, and even one of your maternity photos; your growing belly under his pale, decorated hand, the contrast stark and beautiful in plain black and white.

"hey," he says, and then he glances to the face of the man lying on his table. "you don't mind if my kid's mom comes in, do you?" when he's met with a wordless no, then he looks at you. bright, happy. "you look nice."

you're not wearing anything special, shorts and a strappy tank top—your half-hearted effort to beat the summer heat—but you smile anyway, sending him a quizzical look that he shrugs at. "thanks, i feel like i'm going to sweat to death."

touya returns to his piece, but grins. "super hot, like always."

"shut up," but you feel the warmth spread to your cheeks, even as you shake your head. he glances at you and you find reason to look elsewhere, away from that pointed aqua gaze of his. he must have just re-dyed his hair; it makes his eyes look that much more vibrant. "hey, i wanted to tell you about her little school festival next month, if you want to come."

"oh, okay, uh," touya sits up, rolling his chair across the room to the calendar hanging on the wall. "what day?" when you tell him, he pulls off one glove and fishes a sharpie out of his drawer, marking a big X on the date, blocking it out for anything else. "sick, thanks for tellin' me."

"yeah, of course," you murmur, looking down at your feet as you kick them mindlessly, ignoring the stare he gives you. "thanks for—" you wave a hand vaguely at the wall, what he'd done, and he smiles at you again. softer, this time, more genuine.

touya had a hard time, in the beginning. it's what separated you in the first place, having to accept your pregnancy, choosing to step up to be a father and leaving his partying days behind. there was a lot of fear—that you thought was justified, but painful to you nonetheless—and he didn't start working through that, didn't meet her, until she was almost two.

it's something that haunts him even now, even though she doesn't remember a day without him. on the few occasions that he brings her all the way to your apartment to drop her off, he's admitted as much in the quiet of your kitchen. sitting at the table, sharing a beer and speaking too-friendly, in ways you shouldn't anymore. he still looks at you like that, the same way he does when he bears his heart to you in the dark.

i can be better now, y'know? i'd kill myself before leaving again, baby, please.

you hear the little patter of her feet as your daughter turns down the hallway and then she's sprinting for you, jumping just as you turn to catch her.

"mommy!" she squeals, and you hug her tight and you squeal, too, even if it's only been two weeks. her hair screams touya, in both color and style: bleach white and pulled back in a messy french-braid; he's always been better than average with her hair, had plenty of practice on his sister.

you swing her around a little as she tightens her legs around your hips, and from the corner of your eye, you can feel him watching you, unmoving. you don't want to see the look on his face. you don't want to see it because it's changed and you know it; it's morphed into something dark, the same melancholic look he always gives you, when it's time to go.

from the front, toga calls, "dabi, your girlfriend is here!" and touya turns, clearing his throat as he starts back on his piece.

"'m almost done, gimme like thirty minutes!" he shouts, but he looks up at you again, as if to check for something, anything. if there's been any change.

there hasn't, and you can't stomach the look on his face when he realizes that, either.

#bye idk where this came from #been thinking about it all day though 🥺#ajfhwjwjqj #why is tattoo artist touya so like #right #it's just right #he's so hot like why #dabi drabble #touya drabble #i never know how to tag him anymore lol #he's still so in love with you 🥺#and sure he likes his girlfriend just fine but he'd drop her in a hot minute if it meant he could have his family together 🥺#he grew up in a broken home 🥺 he doesn’t want his little girl to be in a broken home 🥺#god just — so many dad touya thoughts #cw children #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: dabi/touya #✿ theme: dad dabi/touya

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