#this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile and i'm tired of seeing it so here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sicjimin · 4 months

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— Fever Weather —

a.n : hi! i just discovered that tumblr wont let me edit my answer as a draft soooo i messed things up and can't put the story as an answer .. i hope you see this, anon ! as always im sorry for taking sooooo long and i hope i can fulfill your expectation about this request. And im sorry i can't put all of ot6 as the caretaker .. thats a lot of people but im trying my best 🥲 i hope you guys like it !

tw: emeto

"Hyung .. are you okay? Do you need help?", he asks cautiously towards the oldest, that earlier has been cooking for their dinner in the kitchen. He looks tired—way too tired for someone that's just done cooking. If he looks closely, he even get to see beads of sweat forming around his forehead, dampening his already long dark brown locks. No—Jimin didn't actually need to assess that much, because there's an obvious one.

Jimin cocked his eyebrows as someone plops on the couch beside him, and the crease between his eyebrows getting deeper as he take a good look of his hyung.

Jin is wearing a quiet thick hoodie. While cooking. And it's not winter.

"Mhm .. i'm done with the cooking", Jin mumbles, not even moving from his position to talk to the younger. His eyes closed—burried under his arms that he thrown accross his face. "I just .. need to sit down. I'm tired"

Jimin hums, slowly closing his phone and put it on the table. He scoots closer. His hyung is definitely not looking good. "Are you feeling okay hyung?", he asks once again, but it's getting the same result—a low hum. "If you're tired, you can rest in your room hyung. The others still taking their time to arrive", he shrugs, leaning against the couch.

Jin perks up at that, before pushing himself up, "Mhm, i'm going to sleep for a minute .. call me when they arrived?"

"Sure hyung, sleep well", Jimin bids his goodbye as the older retreats up to his room. When he hears a soft click from his room, he opens his phone again. Brushing any thoughts that something is up with Jin—maybe he's really tired. They did a lot today if he digs it. Or maybe today is just one of his hyung's bad days ; everyone has it once in awhile.

Jimin shrugs, decides to let the older take as much moment of peace as he can before other 5 persons filling their space again.

***

"Where's Jin hyung?", Taehyung asks, as five of them starts hovering around the kitchen. They all arrived one by one an hour ago. All of them—except Jimin—still damp from shower and visibly hungry. Jimin perks up from the plate that he's setting on the table. "Oh, hyung is sleeping", he realizes, "Kook-ah, can you wake hyung up?"

"I will do it", Yoongi chimes in from the living room before the youngest can answer.

"Thank you hyung!"

If Yoongi can feel Namjoon and Hobi's knowing gaze and quiet snickers burning holes into his skull as he trudges upstairs, Yoongi gonna pretend it doesn't make his cheeks blasting a faint red.

"Hyung?", Yoongi knocks when he arrived at the door beside his room. It's silent.

"Hyung? Wake up", Yoongi tries again, "It's time for dinner, everyone is waiting hyung"

Silence.

Yoongi frowns. Seokjin is a light sleeper, so there's no way he doesn't wake up after 10 knocks straight on his wooden door. "Hyung?"

Additional 5 knocks, and he still meet with silence. Yoongi pushes his ear on the door—trying to detect any slightest hint of life there, but he meets with nothing. Not even the sound of air conditioner.

He frowns. Is Jimin messing up with him? What if Jin actually going somewhere and not in his room?

Yoongi sighs, knocking the door again, "Hyung? Are you there? Wake up", still silent, "Ah fuck it", he mumbles before turning the knob, "I'm going in hyung, you better not doing anythi—hyung?"

Yoongi grunts caught up on his throat as he meet with a pitch black room. It's quite warm in here as the air conditioner isn't on and the window definitely locked. But what surprised him the most is a big lump on the bed, that emmiting a low groan and shivers.

Yoongi quick on his feet, turning on the light—gaining an even louder groan as the lump moves, curling himself small. "Hyung .. are you okay?", he rushes to the bed, and tugging the blanket that engulfing the oldest up to the tip of his hair down.

"Fuck", he curses under his breath, as he sees Jin shivering—teeth clattering, his lips chapped, and his cheeks flushed. He's sweating under the thick blanket and hoodie—but he still looks cold as he tries to tug the blanket up again, "Hyung .. you have a fever. Gosh .. why don't you tell one of us if you're sick?", Yoongi rambles as his adrenaline spiked.

Jin groans at the sudden exposure to the cold and bright world. He's cold. Extremely cold. And his head hurts. "Cold ..", he groans, trying to tug the blanket up again and curls inside it until he feels better. "No shit you're burning up"

He hears someone grumbling. Jin wants to open his eyes and chatters whoever decided to turn on the light and peel the blanket away from him, but his eyes feels like it's weight a ton—he's too tired to do so. "Mhm ..", he mumbles instead, hoping that it would come accross as his protest. He hears someone pacing around before it's quiet again, and there's nothing holding his blanket down. So Jin takes the opportunity to hides himself again, his knees going up curling against his chest—trying to make himself as small as possible as everything hurts for him.

He feels awful. He knows he's going down with something—he means, after a month full of works from dawn to dawn again as he preparing for his solo .. it's definitely predictable that his body is going to crash. He already feel the telltale of it coming since yesterday, but brushing it off as a mere flu. It's only this afternoon things going downhill for him. He almost faint when he was cooking earlier. His fever has spiked up and the heat from the stove and pan around him act like a gaslight. He saves himself from an embarassing fainting accident as he quickly finish up everything and rushes to the couch when he feels cold sweats forming up inside his hoodie and there's black spots at his peripheral visions.

"Hyung?", his brain-rambling got cut off as someone tugged his blanket down—Again—and suddenly there's a cold hand pressed against his forehead. "Whaat .. ", he whines, actually feeling annoyed now. Can't he just sleep in peace?!

He vaguely hears someone—no, few someone .. murmuring around him.

"You're right hyung .. he's burning up"

"See? Fuck .. what should we do, Min?"

"Do you think we need to bring him to the hospital? Or we should call manager-nim and ask him to bring doctor?", then there's a groan, "I don't know hyung, you're the older one from us"

Min ..? Jimin? And is that Yoongi?

Jin moans as he shifts, wanting to see what's the commotion that makes him can't sleep in peace. His eyelids feels like weight a ton, and the roof is spinning when he opens his eyes. He squints, trying his best to get his consciousness together. "What are you guys doing here?", he croaks out, and it hurts. His mouth tastes funny and dry, and there's a throbbing pain on his temples like some people have slapped him a few times there.

He finally manages to open his eyes. It's pitch black and blurry.

"Hyung .. you're awake? How are you feeling?", Jimin asks, concern clearly visible in his voice. Jin tries to speak but can only grunt in response. "Like shit", he huffs, closing his eyes again as his room seems like it's spin harder and starts to make him nauseous. "My head hurts .. and my body feels cold", he adds, his words slurred. "think i caught something"

He feels someone patting his forehead. "You're running a fever, hyung", this time Yoongi chimes in, finally finding his voice to speak. "Have you eaten something hyung?"

The mention of putting something in his mouth making his stomach churn with nausea as he shakes his head. "Not since breakfast"

"Then let's get you some food, and then you can take some medicine to help your fever", Yoongi offers. There's rustle behind the younger before they heard footsteps rushing back down stairs. "We'll be back in a minute hyung", he says before Jin can argue.

After a few seconds, Jin hears loud chatter outside the room, and his nausea intensifies as he feels something wet dripping onto his side—he must've fallen asleep. He grimaces, surprised with the sudden temperature change. But the cloth on his forehead feels nice actually. "Ssshh .. it's just a cold cloth hyung, your fever is quite high. Yoongi hyung is preparing your food", Jimin says beside him, as he keeps smoothing the cool towel on the other's forehead. The action calms him a little bit, which is good, because his organs inside feels like it's on a race and working overdrive. Everything hurts and feel awful.

"I dont know if i can eat", Jin huffs, "I feel nauseous"

Jimin frowns, "Do you want to throw up hyung?"

"I don't know .. not yet i think", Jin shrugs , "I mean.. I guess. It feels really gross though. I feel like something is stuck in there", he pats his stomach with a wince. Before Jimin could say anything else, the door creaked open, and Yoongi steps inside carefully.

Smell of the food waft through the air. Jin gulps, already feeling full from it. "Hyung .. let's eat?"

"I'm not hungry", Jin answers truthfully, and Yoongi scoffs, "You're sick, you won't feel hungry hyung. Let's eat something, please"

Jin shakes his head.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, "Jimin-ah, help hyung sit up", he orders, gesturing Jimin who quickly helps the elder sitting up. Yoongi walks next to Jin and sits opposite the eldest on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want me to feed you?", Yoongi taunts, reaching for the spoon.

"Nope", Jin immediately denies with Jimin giggling beside him. "Just take a few bites hyung, you don't need to eat it all up", the younger teases as Jin huff, glaring at them as he grabs the spoon from Yoongi's hand.

It takes a few minutes to eat some of the food in front of him before his stomach protest. Jin closes his eyes as he slowly put his 5th bites down and take a big inhale.

"Hyung?", Yoongi calls him worried, watching his brother leans back, breathing heavily. And going paler by seconds, "Do you feel sick?"

Jin just nods, eyes fluttering shut as he clutches his blanket closer, tries to fight the urge to gag. He tries to swallow and force the vomit in his throat back down. But it's futile as a burp slips from him and his sense filled with what he just ate—the taste, the smell, the texture—he sucks a breath, flies his fist against his lips, "I'm going to puke"

"Shit", he hears Yoongi mutter behind him. And then, there are hands gripping his shoulders. "Jimin-ah, trashcan"

Jin 's mind goes foggy as nausea coccooned him like a heavy blanket. He feels like he's not in control of his own body. His ears ringing—but he still can hear the youngers panicked gasps when another gag, a deep and wet one, racked through him. "Jimin, quick!"

"Sshh .. hyung, here", Jimin's voices were barely audible as there's a faint weight on his lap. He feels a wave of nausea hit him hard—his stomach heave and bile came rushing out from the back of his mouth. Jin gasps, his head throbbing as he felt the warm liquid run down from his lips. A second later, he hears Jimin's soft voice beside him asking something, but he can barely register anything about it as he gags one more time and belches. His stomach muscles suddenly contract, heaving out more vomit. 4th bitss of food he manages to put in, come out in one big wave, adding a significant weight onto his lap.

"Gosh ..", he moans, "I feel so sick"

"It's okay hyung let it out", then he felt someone rub circles between his shoulder blades. "Do you want water?"

He shakes his head as he takes a deep breathe, preparing himself for the next round as he leans in and starts to retch, heaving out all whatever was left over from this morning or even the night before. It doesn't take much energy to bring everything up. "Oh... oh gosh...", he groans between heaves. His fingers digging into the blankets tightly as his whole body trembles from exertion.

"Breathe hyung ... you will feel better soon", Yoongi's words seem like they're coming from far away, muffled as he pants, still hugging the trashcan tightly.

"Drink ..", he croaks out , and he's pretty sure that his voice sounds hoarse and gravely. He watches as Jimin passes the straw from the bottle of water in his hand to his mouth. He drinks slowly, letting the water run down his dry throat. His headache seems like it's getting worse, and his body is sore, too.

"Done hyung?", Jimin asks as he hands the glass back to him. Jin shakes his head, huffing, as he rest his head against the pillow. He closes his eyes, focusing on the soothing touches against his skin rather than the turmoil inside his guts.

"I'm going to puke again", Jin whispers after few minutes of silence between them.

"Here", Yoongi suddenly speaks, pulling Jin forward, helping the older to sit up, "Don't worry, I'll hold the trashcan up"

"Okay", he puffs out before another round of gag taking over him. This round is shorter than the first one as his body seems like it's only need to reject the water he just took.

"Okay .. i'm done, i think", Jin sniffles, pushing the trashcan away as the smell filled his entire room. Yoongi nods, taking the trashcan away to the bathroom, while Jimin helping him laying down again. As soon as Jin lays flat on his back, Jimin climbs on top of him, wrapping a soft blanket around him and holding him close. "Are you alright?", he looks at him. And then Jin nods, his eyes closed again, still a little weak from being sick, and his body aching and tired from vomiting, but otherwise he's fine.

Jimin hums. "Do you want me to stay here with you?"

Another nod. Jimin smiles, immediately wraps an arm around Jin's body and pulls the older towards him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. And just like that, Jin falls back into sleep.

Yoongi's eyes widen at the sight in front of him as he's back from the bathroom. "Is he sleeping?", he whispers at Jimin that makes eyecontact with him. Jimin nods, "Just let him hyung .. he must be tired", he replies quietly, "He can take his medicine later"

Yoongi sighs, sitting at the edge of the bed as he watches the half eaten food and medicine on the nightstand. "Okay, i can heat up the food later, or i will just bring him something light", he mumbles quietly. "His fever still high?"

Jimin chuckles nervously, "He is. I can feel it against my shirt"

Yoongi hums, taking the wet cloth again and wiping Jin's pale forehead gently before placing it on his forehead. The older sighs in relief, eyes still closed, relaxing into the touch. Unconsciously, Yoongi's lips curls up a little at that, "You're so whipped hyung", Jimin scoffs and earns himself a playful punch on his arm. "Ow!"

"Be quiet", Yoongi says before turning his attention back at Jin, "Keep the cloth, okay? If you need something, or when hyung wakes up, text me"

Jimin chuckles at that, "Get it hyung .. or you want to switch places with me?", he teases.

Yoongi rolls his eyes—but again, his face betrayed him. "No, i will not do that", he snatches the tray back from the nightstand, "But if you need anything just call for me okay, i'll be outside", he grunts before quickly closes the door, ignoring the little brat laughter from inside.

***

Jin didn't know how long he has been asleep—all that he know that his room still pitch black, no sign of sunlight, there's still quite lot of noises outside that means some of the members are still awake—it's not that late yet, and someone has been cuddling with him. He groans, stretching his body as much as he can as it feels sore all over. His joints and muscles feels like it's been tied to a knot, and his stomach been rumbling —that he can't differentiate if it's because of hunger or nausea.

Jin peels himself away, wanting to freshen himself up that's covered in sweat, and maybe make a warm tea to fill his stomach. He frowns when a cloth fall on his lap as he get up. He looks around and then meet with a bowl of water and Jimin that still sleep soundly beside him. It's all clicked then—with how his fever already going down too.

Jin smiles, trudging to the bathroom as quiet as he can to not wake up the younger on his bed. He deserves a little more sleep for taking care of him.

"Hyung! You're awake? Feeling better?", Jungkook chastises when Jin walks down the stairs. The youngest quickly rushes to his feet as he sees his hyung flatters on the last step. "Hyung .. slowly"

Jin sighs, "Thank you, Kook-ah .. hyung is fine. Still dizzy", he ruffles the grey hair, "Why are you not sleeping yet? Where's the other?"

"I was just done playing with Taehyungie, my brain still can't shut down yet", Jungkook shrugs, trailing behind the older as Jin walks into the kitchen. "You can sit hyung. You're still swaying on your feet", he chuckles, watching Jin rummaging through the cabinet. But there's a concern lacing on it. "What do you want?"

"Just a tea, please", Jin says before giving up and sits on the stool instead. "Coming right up", Jungkook turns around, running to the cabinet and pulling out a tea and sugar. It didn't take long before a warm cup serves in front of him. Jin wraps his palms around it, taking a sip of it. It's a sweetened green tea with honey and coconut milk. It warms his entire body up, sending shivers down his spine. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes.

"I got you some medicine", Jungkook says and holds up the small plastic pill container, shaking it lightly, "Yoongi hyung told me earlier to give it to you"

Jin scoffs, taking the pills in one swift motion—not letting his body reacts. "He's so stubborn"

"He's worried hyung", Jungkook giggles, "You should look at him when he knows you're sick"

Jin sighs, can't help the tip of his ears that reddened in instant. "I don't know what you're trying to say"

"Sure hyung", Jungkook grins.

They stay in silence for a while as Jin tries to finish his tea—and a slice of bread that Jungkook threatened for him to eat. "You can go to sleep, Kook-ah. Hyung will stay here a little longer", Jin says softly while reaching out his hand to pat Jungkook's legs as they lounge on the couch. "No", Jungkook protests, shaking his head to get rid off the sleepiness that starts getting on him. "I'm staying with you", he yawns, "I'm going to get more blankets"

Jin snorts softly, nodding as his gaze stays on the younger. Jungkook disappears upstairs to get some more blankets and pillows for Jin. After that, he goes back downstairs. "You don't want to go back to your room hyung? Sleep again? The medicine should make you sleepy", Jungkook chatters, yawning in between his words. Jin shakes his head in response as he bundled himself with blanket—he can feel the fever spiking up again. "Jimin is sleeping there, and i literally just woke up from hours of sleep", he chuckles, "I'm not sleepy yet"

"Mhm", Jungkook hums, "I can bring Jimin hyung out. One scoop and he's back to his room"

Jin laughs, nudging the younger with his toes, "He's your hyung!"

"But he's small! It's easy!"

"Jungkook!"

***

They have been lounging in the living room for an hour—Jungkook has loses his fight against his sleepiness a minutes ago, curling up on the other side of couch—when Jin feels nausea coming back. He groans, trying to ignore it with rubbing it slowly and taking a counted breath.

It only lasts for 5 minutes before he sits straight upright as his hands start trembling slightly; his throat closing up and a loud gag escapes his lips. He can taste liquid on the back of his throat. The sudden moves and noise made Jungkook stirs, squinting his eyes as he tries to adjust the light, "Hyung .. what? Are you okay?", he asks, sitting up too and rubbing his eyes. "Yeah.. i think i'm gonna throw up", Jin replies with a shaky voice before he quickly slaps his mouth as his stomach contracts to let out another gag.

As he stands up and wobbles towards the bathroom, he hears Jungkook calling after him but Jin doesn't answer—can't answer. The door slams close after a couple of steps and Jin closes himself inside the bathroom. He crouches over the bowl and without needing much energy, pukes pouring out of his lips. It's brown—literally the tea he takes earlier. Jin gasps, feeling himself choke on the vomit he just threw out of his mouth. Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes as soon as he felt another wave hitting him, throwing him further to the bowl.

"Hyung! Jin hyung .. let me in!", Jin can hear the door knob jiggling as the younger bangs his fist against it. But Jin can physically do anything as his stomach takes control. All he can hear is his own gagging and sounds of vomit hitting the water, and his focus is on emptying everything out. Suddenly, there's another weight pressed against his arched back, and few steps entering the bathroom.

"Jin .. breathe", A hand brushing his hair back, and another massaging his nape when he chokes out on particular harsh wave. "Ah ..", he moans when his stomach gives him a rest. He looks around through his glassy eyes.

"Joon-ah? .. Kook?", he slurs. It takes him a few seconds to realize that Jungkook is next to him, holding his shoulders, and Namjoon is handing him a glass of water. How did they get in?

"Jungkook was running to my room and wake me up. Luckily i was still reading, and .. the spare key did the job", Namjoon explains like he can read his mind .. or Jin suddenly voicing it out loud? He can't be so sure.

" 'm sorry .. just don't want you guys to see this .. it's—", Jin closes his eyes as wave floods him again, and lurch forward as his stomach heave up a second load of stomach acid, bile, and the remnants of the bread he ate earlier. After a few dry heaves, Jin wipes his mouth again and groans weakly, "It's so gross"

"You're sick .. it's normal hyung", Namjoon chuckles lowly, "Better?"

"Yeah .. i think i'm done", Jin peels himself away from the soiled toilet, letting Namjoon to do what he needs to do as he feels increasingly weak. "Kook, help Jin-hyung back to his room", Namjoon says suddenly after he's done cleaning up everything and helped the oldest rinses his mouth. It only gains a hum from the latter.

"Kook? You there?", Jin croaks out, wondering why the youngest that pressed against his body since earlier didn't say anything.

"Mhm ..", Jungkook hums, looking away from Jin.

Namjoon chuckles, "He's sca—"

"Namjoon hyung!", Jungkook hisses, "Let's get you back to bed hyung. Jimin hyung is up and waiting too", he grunts, helping Jin stand up. He can tell the elder can barely keep his balance even if he tries. Jungkook takes his time to steady Jin's weight while leading them to the bedroom.

"Kook?", Jin calls when he already settles on the bed after letting Jimin fussing over him. "What's wrong? Why are you suddenly quiet?" , he asks softly.

Jungkook doesn't reply, only averting his gaze elsewhere, fiddling with his fingers. It feels like an eternity before Jimin chimes in, "He was afraid hyung. You were suddenly get sick and lock the door at that", he smiles, ruffling Jungkook's.

"Jimin!"

"It's hyung you brat"

Jin stares at the pair, before burst into a giggle, "Ah .. you're worried about hyung?", he grins, "Want to cuddle the sickness out of hyung?", he teases further earning a glare from the latter.

"I'm going to sleep, bye hyung", Jungkook says and leaves the room quickly.

Jin laughs at that, but it cut off quickly when Jimin suddenly speaks as he pressed the newly wet cloth back to his forehead, "You can't tease him if you're just as red as him hyung"

Jin swats him away, "It's the fever!"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!seokjin #caretaker!yoongi #caretaker!jimin #caretaker!jungkook #a little of caretaker!namjoon

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i-am-the-egg-to-rule-all-eggs · 7 months

Text

This has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. I'm almost scared to finish it because everything is so raw.

My parents were emotionally abusive since I was a child. Im pretty sure they were emotionally abusive because i was a very different child than my sister. They wanted me perfect. I wasnt allowed to be wrong, to learn from my mistakes, to be better from doing stupid stuff. As a result i got very depressed, because i was hid away. Locked away from the world, because they didnt want to deal with my problems, and made everything my fault. I was held responsible for things done when i was a child, and thus i never got to grow and change from my wrong behaviours. I didnt know how to stop because something was wrong outside of my control and i didnt know HOW to fix it. And they never did, choosing to blame it all on me and insist i "fix it" without helping. I'm also pretty sure I'm transgender, but it's been repressed for awhile because I was never supported enough to explore it. Anyway, after years of hiding away from the problems that come with a adhd foster kid who exhibits neurodivergent behavior, they finally got tired and tried to force me to run away. They stated started to get physically abusive about Thanksgiving of 2021. I remember the day very clearly. My parents had this cycle imposed upon me where I would spend my days going to school and working my minimum wage job, and all other times I was expected to find something to do outside of the house. This was so they didn't have to go through the legal implications of kicking me out, and possibly causing my high ranking Army dad to be fired due to child neglect. So they tried to make me run. To quit.

And I tried. I tried and tried and tried to get away. It was hard, because they had been telling me for years that I wasn't good enough, I couldn't survive in the real world, I was worthless and unlovable. I got heavily depressed. I was in and out of treatment centers due to multiple suicide attempts. I became bisexual in a Texas treatment center.

Then, finally, they started to get physically abusive. November 28, 2021. They had me in aforementioned cycle of working, learning, fucking off by myself outside, coming home and getting hammered emotionally, them going upstairs to sleep in their bedroom because they thought I would destroy my own. It was tiring. I got no time to unwind or relax. Just constant pressure every waking moment. On Thanksgiving, when I thought I might be able to relax, my mom told me to go out, and she didn't want to see me until after dinner. I snapped. I started yelling. She walked towards me and picked me up and started to shove me our the door. She had done this many times before, but I had never fought back until now. I pushed back. She had my dad grab my arms as she grabbed my legs as they prepared to throw me out of the door. I started kicking and punching, seeing red, just wanting to return to some semblance of normal and get back inside and be a somewhat happy family again.

For one, we were never a happy family, and two, it would never be like that.

My mom and dad pressed charges on me for domestic assault. Every police officer and attorney I came across tried to hint that it was the stupidest case ever, and I should have denied and fought with everything I had, but I had 0 experience with the law and thought it would help repair my relationship with my parents if I admitted to the charges. (side note: I was 16 at the time, and therefore a minor, and how juvenile court works is you don't really get charged, you get adjudicated. When you go to the adjudcation court for a crime, you can either admit or deny the charges. If you deny, it moves on to trial. If you admit, they move on to sentencing but it would be considerably lighter because you're honest and have remorse)

So I admitted, spent a few days in a detention hall ,(in which literally everyone said I didn't belong, that I was really respectful, and just a wonderful person-I doubted them at that point, because of the brainwashing my parents had been doing.)and then I moved on to the shelter next door; kind of a transition home from the detention hall.

Then I was assigned my probation officer, as my sentence was probation for a year, based on no former offenses and admitting to the charges. That was Whitney. He was great; as my PO, he was the first person outside to really SEE the bullshit on the inside. He checked on me about once a week, and I told him everything was fine, because by my standards it was. Then, about 3 months in, I had had an argument with my parents that got physical. They wanted to take me out of school for a little bit to take me to therapy so that they could rag on me in front of professionals and cement an idea in everyone else's head that I'm wrong and twisted and everything they do to me is necessary. I was not having that, so I tried to grab my bag. My mom stepped on it, saying that I was not going to school, so I pulled it and she fell over. Then, both my mom and my dad proceeded to drag me across the ground and out of the house. Because they just gave up, I guess. I show up to school, crying my eyes out, with cement burns and handmarks all over my arms. That day my PO made a surprise visit. He found me in the nurses office and freaked. He called CPS and got me to a shelter. My parents, adept as they are at lying, said that I must have gotten the burns and handmarks on the way to school.

I spent a few days in shelter and then went home after, but that incident really sparked my PO to align goals with me: to get me out. We planned on Youth Challenge, taking place a few months from then, and he told me to try to hold out, and he would try to get a better version of CPS, called DHS, on the case. These guys are supposed to help with tricky cases like mine, where the parents can't be convicted of any PHYSICAL child neglect (as my parents met all my needs and nothing more), but are still abusing their child. However, it got too much, as they just made all of the restrictions they put on before worse. Here's a small list:

I was not allowed in the house from like 8 am to sunset.

I was forced to shower under supervision.

I did not have a room. I slept behind a bookcase against a wall.

I was not allowed to have possessions besides clothes and hygiene and my phone, so they could get in touch with me.

If I was at home I had to sit and do nothing.

My meals were made for me, and I ate by myself (this was nothing new. I think I have a eating disorder now bc of this)

It was torture. I was stressed every single day. I wasnt welcome in the house, and they let me know with every word and every action. Eventually, I snapped again. Tried to kill myself, and they called the police, who took me to the hospital and then to the shelter I was at before. I stayed there for about 2 months, because everybody agreed I needed to be away for my safety. Later, I went to youth challenge.

Youth Challenge was the start of my healing process. At youth challenge their main goal is to get you a diploma, and to get some discipline in you. I made friends, I learned how to control myself, how to numb under some pretty high pressure. I graduated close to the top of my class, #1 in academics. I lead/managed large groups of people my age, and learned how to work the system. I also had some fun times, and made amazing friends and enemies while I was there.

I didn't know it at the time, but my mom died while I was there. She sent me some letters before she died, talking about how she was impressed at how well I was doing there. I still have those letters. I'm still confused about how I feel about her death, because I did actually love her, even if she tried to gaslight me into thinking otherwise so she could prove I'm a bad person. Then again. I'm relieved I never have to see her again.

My dad took it hard. He loved her too, and ofttimes chose to believe her and support her. I don't blame him for that, I just wish I could have had one parent to support me through the shitshow.

Tumblr is lagging big time now, I will finish this in another post, which I'll tag eggmanlore. If you're here, thank you for listening

#eggmanlore #barista ramblings

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shantechni · 8 months

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Hey, I just wanted to say, I really love ur posts, esp. ur TMNT 2012 ones.

U make u really nice, interesting, funny, and cool ones for TMNT 2012, and I really appreciate how u go over stuff like TMNT 2012 dynamics, development, and characterization. And etc. The way you do so is nice and cool. TMNT 2012; while, imo is one of the best TMNT series, and I do see love of love and appreciation for it. Over the year(s), it and it's characters has been so demonized and misunderstood, that, as a major 2012 fan, that has kind made me feel bad (and sad. and tired) due to some people and/or some parts of the TMNT fandom(s). So it is always nice to see (more) good and positive 2012 stuff by people (which, we still do get. But there has been so much unfair demonization and bashing of 2012 for awhile, that sometimes it drowns out the good stuff and/or the good stuff can be harder to find sometimes).

Also, thank you for making that post that debunks some of the unfair "criticism" directed at 2012. Like, 2012 Mikey is abused (I hate, hate that take so very much), and (some of) the Leo and Karai stuff (makes me really sad that they actually have a really interesting and complex relationship with each other, and Karai acts as Leo foil (in some ways), and that Leo actually has really fun little brother relationship with her later on, and gets to actually act like a little brother with her, and be a little s#it w/ her /affectionate. And that they are just siblings in a lot of ways. Etc. Anyways, makes me sad that people are so focused on the (supposed) shipp-y stuff with them, they just seem, to ignore that stuff. And others). And etc. Anyways yeah, thank you for that post; it was pretty and/or quite good.

Also, saw a post u going nevermind, and saying u wanted to talk about the differences in TMNT 2003 and TMNT 2012 Leo's struggles with leadership. And just wanted to ask, did you make a post before that one, mentioning that? Because the "nevermind", kind of makes it seem like you do. And also, I look forward to that post if/when u do make it.

Oh wow thank you so much for this😭

I just really love the 2012 series lol, I probably delve deeper into some things than I need to tho ngl. I'm glad you're enjoying my content and sometimes overly elongated analyses of stuff, and you're right about the 2012 series being unnecessarily misunderstood (though that can easily be said for every iteration, particularly the more recent ones).

Honestly, I didn't expect that "debunking" post to get much traffic, I am talking about things people are either tired of hearing or likely disagree with. But it feels like a breath of fresh air seeing people agree with something that should be considered common knowledge. There's a lot one can gather just from sitting down and actually watching the series, and much of those criticisms are often the result of someone not watching the series to its fullest or as intended, or because they're too stuck on the negatives of the writing to acknowledge the positives.

That aside, yeah I mentioned that Leo thing, but I have yet to post it. I was on the fence about doing it, but I've got a bit of it typed out just chilling in my drafts with a thin layer of dust.

Can't say when I'll post it, but I definitely will post it eventually because it keeps knocking around my brain lol.

#answering your asks #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12

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dearestgojo · 3 years

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With Love, Good-bye

Toji x Fem Reader

Summary: Years of pining with no results, when it it time to finally let go?

A/n: I'm a little late, but this idea has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. A one-shot spin off from @saintobio Sincerely, Not. Tiny mentions of Gen, Gojo, and Y/n from Sincerely, Not. I reused some parts from a scrapped idea so I'm sorry if some of it doesn't make sense. It was originally going to start at the auction, but it didn't feel right so I changed my timeline to where this all takes place before the events of Sincerely, Not.

I was going to wait till the start of the week, but I'm impatient. A special thanks to @thebeardedmoon for proofreading 💕.

Wc: 6.4k | JJK Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The air around you feels stuffy as you weave through the crowd of people, desperately trying to find a quiet place to relax, the air around you suffocating you. You didn’t want to be here, you much preferred to be back at home in your room, but when your father had asked you to join him for tonight’s event you hadn’t been able to say not the sad look he had given you. He insisted that he wanted to spend time with his daughter, but the moment you had arrived he had been dragged away by a group of businessmen which left you to find your own entertainment for yourself.

You had already walked around the venue twice, watching as people either spoke about business or the latest gossip. As you passed by you could catch pieces of their conversations, but not being much for either you simply kept walking until you felt tired and the voices started to become too much to you that you looked for the exit. Looking around the venue in hopes of catching a glimpse of the dark raven head, with no luck you walked out into the wide call way where more people were chatting, much less than what was inside.

Walking against the wall you look around you, there’s a few known faces. The two Creston heiresses were just arriving, arm in arm. The oldest wore a dark green dress that showed off her cleavage while the younger, who was closer to your age, wore a light green off the shoulder that spotted right above her knees. As you watch them walk by, your own older sister makes an appearance, hand wrapping around your arm, you jump as you feel her slender fingers wrap around you to be engrossed in the people that surround you.

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare you. I can’t believe you actually came, I thought you were too depressed with whatever is going on in that head of yours.” She unhooks her arms with her husband to hook her other arm with yours, her freed hand pulling you in closer, leading you back into the venue you just walked out of, “Love your dress by the way.” You look down at the lavender dress your mother had picked out for you. It feels out of place with the other slick bodytight dress the others are wearing, you feel like you should be a debutante ball and not an event celebrating an anniversary. You look at your sister's black floor length dress, it’s simple with a bit of lace.

“I much rather be wearing yours,” You state.

“Then we can switch later when mom isn’t around,” she jokes as you both watch your mom approaching you.

You pull your arm out from your sisters before your mother reaches ten paces from where you stand, “I need to go get some fresh air, I’ll see you at the table later.” You walk off not wanting to deal with your mother nagging before your sister can say anything. Just as you're rounding the corner of the exit you bump into something hard, spilling their drink, “I’m really sorry,” you start looking up to find yourself staring into the blue eyes of Satoru Gojo. You swallow down the saliva that feels your mouth, the squeals coming from around you taking your attention away from him when you turn to see a group of girls huddled close whispering while pointing at you.

Right half the women in this room were infatuated with him. You tear off a corner from the sign in sheet that’s next to the door, writing your number on it quickly not wanting to be under their gazes, “Just text me and I’ll pay for dry cleaning.” You hand him the piece of paper lifting your skirts speeding away before he can even answer, your face burning. You can hear his friend laughing and teasing him about how you couldn’t get away fast enough.

You find a quiet place in one of the smaller ballrooms that’s empty save for a few chairs and tables spread across the floor. There’s a large dome in the center of the ceiling that lets the moon light from outside light the otherwise dark room. You don’t bother trying to find the switch for the lights and lay in the middle of the room. Soaking in the light coming from the moon, letting your eyes close, and enjoying the silence of the room.

A door to the room opens and shuts, the noise echoing through the room. The noise has you sitting upright quickly, blood rushing towards your head making you a bit lightheaded. Your eyes struggle to focus on the figure that enters at first, but after focusing them you see a familiar blond hair with dark tips. “What are you doing here, Naoya?” You can feel your mood souring.

“I could ask you the same thing. Meeting someone here?” He walks around the edge of the shadow and moon light circle on the floor.

“Why would you care if I’m seeing anyone or not?” You start to stand when he comes into the light offering you his hand for support.

“Is not that I necessarily care, but more so watching out that you don’t get caught. I don’t think your brothers would be pleased to find you messing around in a dark room with someone.” He answers. Now that he's in the light, you can see that his hair is a mess on the top of his head, and that he’s shirt is out of place. He’s been messing around with someone.

“I think you're just trying to cover up your own tracks.” You whisper, reaching up to fix his collar, purposely sliding your finger across the lipstick stain on it.

He smiles down at you, “You sure are perceptive, y/n and here I thought I could get away with it.”

Dropping your arms down to your side, you tease him with a smile, “If you hadn’t been so noisy you wouldn’t have been caught.” You hook your arm around his, “Now lead me out so at least the girl can leave with some dignity.”

Naoya does a bow, stretching his arm out in front of him, “As you wish my lady.” You watch from the corner of your eyes as you walk out of the room as he looks around the room once more, clearly making sure that whoever was in here with him isn’t in sight.

When the door closes behind you, Naoya leads you towards the elevators, he knows you well enough from growing up that he knows you hate crowded places, “So what were you doing in there alone?”

You press the button on the first floor, trying your hardest not to turn back when you hear the door you just came out of open. “Just trying to catch a breather.” Naoya looks once over his shoulder before helping you into the elevator.

“I figured. Your dress is lovely by the way,” He teases, you give him a him, waiting for him to finish his comment, “You look like you belong on the top of a cake.”

“I didn’t choose it, my mom did. You know how she is.”

“Still dressing you like your her personal doll?” He asks.

“You know it.” You sigh, leaning against the wall.

Naoya’s arm brushes against yours when he moves to stand beside you, “What is she going to keep choosing how you dress until you get married or something?”

Your mind recalls how she did exactly that with your sister. How your mother would dress you and her for all types of events in dresses that neither of you would have worn otherwise. “Probably. Wouldn’t be surprising of her.” You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Suddenly you feel yourself being caged in against the wall, your eyes snapping open to see Naoya’s face inches from yours. You can feel your chest beating rapidly in your chest. “What if I marry you so that she’ll leave you alone?” He asks, his voice sounding serious, you know better from years of spending time around him, but for a second your mind considers it. The thought of being free from your smothering mother. It quickly evaporates when a certain pair of green eyes flash across your memory. You bring your hands up and push against his chest, pushing him away. The movement has the scent of the women he was just with filling your nostrils.

“No, thanks. I’d rather die than marry you.”

“Why?” He asks, an offended look on his face.

“I’d be the laughing stock of high society while you sleep around with other women. We both know you’re not the committing type.”

Naoya leans against the opposite wall from you, eyes scanning you from your head to your toes. “I think there’s more to it than that.” A knowing smile creeps across his face, “You're still hung up on him aren’t you. Hoping that one day he’ll look at you as something other than a child. Than a friend to his son.” Your face starts to heat up and how obvious you apparently are. Naoya slips his hands into his pocket and continues with his little speech, “You’ll never be her, you know. Toji holds a very very special place for his dead wife, one that you can never fill.”

You can feel tears start to prick the edges of your eyes at the reminder, and you're thankful that the elevator stops signaling your arrival at your floor. You blink a couple of times, fighting them back, “Whatever.” You pick up your dress and walk out, leaving Naoya alone as he watches you with a pitiful look as you walk away.

You're not sure where you're headed, but when you come back to your senses you're standing in the bar of the hotel where the event is being held. There’s barely any people so it’s easy to spot his dark hair from where you stand. Toji’s sitting on one of the stools at the counter, swirling his drink around. You drag your feet across the room towards him, your heart clenching as you get closer.

Tapping slightly on his shoulder and swaying back and forth on your feet, hands behind you when he turns around, ”Hey.”

Toji smiles at you, looking behind you to see if you're alone,” Hey, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You smile up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder, “I came to ask for a ride. Dad already left and all my friends are drunk off wine.”

“What makes you think I’m willing to give you a ride, or that I’m sober enough to drive.”

“So you would leave me here, alone rather than give me a ride home?” you pout at him, “and I saw you bought your driver.” He pinches the bridge of his nose quietly laughing at how you probably planned this out just so you could spend some time with him. He’d honestly gotten used to it after two years of you flirting with him openly like this and scheming.

“You really are something. Come on, I'll drop you off,”

Toji watches you from the corner of his eye, as you look at the passing lights and cars as you sit next to him. You're young, barely twenty-two, so he can’t understand why you would be infatuated with someone his age. It’s the thirteen year age difference and the fact that he had watched you grow up that keeps him from returning your feelings, because even though he would never admit it out loud, you were quite pretty. He’d seen the way boys your age would follow you with their eyes. Hell he’d seen his own son look at you with the same eyes at times. He really doesn’t understand why you would want to be with him, a single dad about to reach forty.

He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes leaning into the seat. He hears shuffling coming from your seat and when he opens his eyes your face is in front of his. Lips close enough to almost be touching. Toji can smell your perfume and it’s intoxicating to say the least. He can see the mischief in your eyes as you look into his, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“You let your guard down,” you whisper, shifting your weight bringing your face closer, “ What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

Toji’s tempted to let you do it. Tempted to feel your lips pressed against his, to feel their warmth. When was the last time he had kissed anyone? He swallows before grabbing onto your shoulders and pushing you back into your seat, “I’d probably avoid you more than I do now.”

You cross your arms and go back to looking out the window, seeming deep in thought. Toji does the same, remembering the day you first confessed you had feelings for him. You’d come to the estate to visit Megumi after being gone to college. You caught Toji drinking coffee in one of the lounging areas after finding out his son had left earlier for his early morning piano lesson and , your face resting in your palms watching him drink his coffee and read the newspaper. “You're kind of hot,” you’d blurted out, your eyes open wide in shock when you realized you’d said out loud. Toji had laughed until you said, “ I think I like you.”

Everything had gone quiet afterwards, red painting his cheeks. After a couple of minutes he awkwardly excused himself and walked away. He remembered how he did his best to avoid you for a whole year and half, but failing because everywhere he seemed to look you were there. Auctions, events, parties, and even his floor in the Zenin building. He eventually gave up on avoiding you. Over the course of the following two years, you’d become more aggressive with the flirting, sending him winks when no one was looking, running your fingers along his back when you walked past, and sometimes using cheesy pick-up lines in public. He wanted to say that he disliked the attention, but if he were completely honest he felt strange when he’d seen you and you when you didn’t do any of those things.

He lets out a chuckle as he remembers how terrified he’d feel every time he’d see you. It wasn’t like you were showing up on purpose, at first at least, but I’d after you’d both gotten more comfortable with the fact you were love-struck with him, you’d actively seek him out. Not that Toji minded, he enjoyed how comfortable you’d become after that first year and half.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing just how much you’ve grown into yourself.”

“You talk like I'm a kid.”

Toji thinks the next words over, “You are a kid. It’s only been four years since you graduated highschool, and it hasn’t even been a year since you graduated college. You're just starting to live.”

“And now you're acting like you're some old man. You are in your thirties, not your fifties.” The car goes silent again. Toji keeps his head turned towards the window, the tension of the car making him uncomfortable. “What would you do if I moved on? If I get over my feelings for you?” You ask out of nowhere.

The thought of you not hanging on to his every word makes his heart clench, after two years of having you around it’d be quite strange not having you hang around. It’d make him sad not to have your twinkling eyes sparkling up at him with hope that he might return your feelings one day. “I’d feel relieved. It’d mean that you're growing up.” He looks out the window as the SUV pulls into the gate, the driver speaking to security to let you through. “You're young right now you don’t actually know what you're feeling. You’ve barely even dated.” Toji tries to recall a time he’d heard a rumor of you dating, but can’t seem to.

“Have you met the dating pool for me my age? The dating pool of men that most of the upper class find acceptable? Most of them are egoistic and only marry for money. And most men that aren’t part of the elite find me intimidating because of the money my parents have. So no, I don’t date.” You take a deep breath as the car reaches the front of your house, “ I’m not saying I’ll wait around till you return my feelings, but I'll wait until someone who shares the same values as me walks into my life. You can choose if that’s you or someone else.” Toji watches as you get out of the car without waiting for his response. He waits a couple of minutes after you’ve entered before signaling his driver to head home.

Toji lies to himself as he watches the flashing lights of buildings and cars pass, he tells himself that he's not the person you want. That over the two years you’ve hung around him he hasn’t developed even the slightest affection towards you that crosses the boundaries he himself set. He tells himself that if you were to stop hanging on to every being it wouldn’t bother him.

It’s early morning when your father finds you on the terrace eating a plate of fruit, he presses a kiss to your forehead, “How’s my little angel?” Your father was a large man, who held a great presence, that when he walked into a room everyone would turn to look at him. If it wasn’t for that people would look down on him because your family was still considered new money even after three generations going on four. You watch as he sits down in front of you, the maid coming up behind him with his breakfast, he gives her a thanks and tells her to tell the kitchen to take a break because everyone else is probably going to sleep in.

‘Your angel is doing just fine,” you smile at him, taking a sip from your orange juice.

“I was just asking because you're usually not up this early.” He checks his watch, “Seven am and you're up, so of course I’d be a little worried.”

You laugh, turning to face the terrace again, “I just had some thinking to do last night.”

The sound of the birds singing brings a sense of calmness to you this early morning, “Think about what exactly?”

You let out a sigh letting bring your legs up on to the chair, your pajama shorts riding up your thighs, “The future.”

A smile spreads against your dad’s lips, “What about the future exactly?”

“Marriage.”

You almost burst out laughing when the smile your father had worn disappears and turns into a frown. “Why are you seeing someone? Did they ask you to marry them?” His voice is stern, his eyes set into a glare.

“No, but I think it’s time that I think about it,” you look at your nails and start picking at the skin around them, and whisper under your breath, “Think about moving on and letting go of certain people.”

“No one’s putting any pressure on you, so don’t worry too much about that. Focus on building your career. That should be the only future you should be focusing on.”

“So you’ll get a job at your company as your marketing executive?” You joke, knowing what his response would be. He had raised you and all your siblings to start from the bottom and work your way up the ladder, giving you jobs as soon as you were old enough to work at an entry level. You were currently working in his company as the assistant to one of his executives after starting out as a simple front desk receptionist on the bottom floor. All your siblings had started out the same way, most of them now holding executive positions in the company or either started their own business.

“Fill out an application first and we’ll see if you have the qualifications.” Your dad jokes back as he stands up picking up his empty plate and heading back towards the house. Head thrown back in laughter.

“I thought you wanted me to focus on building my career!”

It’s late Monday when you're walking down the street to the Zenin building with a folder filled with paperwork. You walk past the reception desk and into the elevator clicking the floor to Naoya’s floor. You can feel your heart beating rapidly at the possibility of running into Toji. When you reach Naoya’s floor, you walk to the receptionist that’s on his floor. “Is Naoya Zenin here? I have some paperwork he needs to sign by today.”

You watch as she awkwardly looks at the door that opens to his office, the door closed and the secretary missing. “He’s a bit busy right now, if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

“Not at all, thank you.” You push yourself away from her desk and take a seat on one of the chairs that adorn the lobby of the floor that sits facing Naoya’s office. As you wait you watch as people move around the office, people heading towards business dinners, others moving from one office to another with papers in their hands that need to be signed, and assistants carrying coffees around following some of the higher ups.

The environment is much more busy than what is at your dad's company where things seem to be more lax. Not to say that you weren’t busy, but your dad allowed for things to not to be in such a hurry, deadlines were always met, people were on time, but it lacked the urgency that people seemed to have here. You thought it might have something to do with the man behind the door always slacking off.

About five minutes later the door to Naoya’s office opens, his secretary coming out of his office, shirt wrinkled and hair out of place. You let out a breath as you stand from your chair, smiling at the receptionist as you make it down the hall to the office, “Is Mr. Zenin free?” You smile sweetly at the woman sitting in front of his office, ignoring as she tries to fix her hair.

“Um yes he is. Let me let him know you're here.” She stumbles over her words, picking up her phone and dialing Naoya’s extension, “Sir you have a visitor...okay I’ll let her in. He’s been expecting you.”

“And I’ve been waiting for him.” You say opening his office door and closing it behind you, “You know you could be a little more discreet about your affairs.” You walk in to Naoya tucking his dress shirt into his pants.

“What’s the fun in that?”

You drop the folder you're holding in your hands on his desk, “We need you to review and sign these.” Naoya picks up the folder and sits down looking through the papers, motioning for you to sit down across from him.

“If you were mine I might consider not sleeping around,” he says not once looking up from the folder. He sounded serious, but you knew better than to believe anything that came out of his mouth, you had grown up with him and knew better.

“Like I’d believe you.”

Naoya closes the folder and sets his pen down, standing up from his chair, and walking around the desk towards you. He crouches down and spins the chair until you are facing him. His hands placed on the seat on either side of your thighs, “One date. Give me one date and you can reject me afterwards.” You examine his face trying to see if he’s joking, he isn’t. You're about to reject him when he releases a sigh, backing away from you a bit, “How long are you going to wait?”

You're frozen in your seat, the words he and Toji said a few nights echoing in your head. You remember how two mornings ago you’d sat on the terrace of your home, telling yourself how you’d give yourself a chance to move on to find someone who actually wanted you, “Okay. I’ll go on a date with you.”

Naoya looks taken aback by your answer, “Really?” When you nod your head he smiles from ear to ear, “Okay then I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” He smiles sweetly at you.

You knew better than to get romantically involved with Naoya Zenin, but the emptiness in your chest felt unusually empty after what you had witnessed this afternoon.

It was late afternoon when Toji walked into the estate, when he found Naoya in the foyer humming happily as he flipped through the pages of a book. “How was your afternoon,” he has a playful smile on his lips.

“It was okay, I just finished doing some field work.” Toji walks towards the stairs ready to shower and get into his bed.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about my afternoon?” Naoya stands up, his smile growing wider. He was planning something.

“I’m not interested.” Toji takes two steps before he’s interrupted again.

“Not even if it involved y/n?”

Toji turns back to face Naoya, his lips in a straight line, “What about y/n?”

“Oh not much she came by so I could review some papers. I might’ve or might not have asked her out on a date. She said yes.” Toji can feel his eye twitch as Naoya’s smile gets even wider, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Toji turns and starts walking up the stairs not sparing Naoya a second glance, “She’s free to do whatever she wants.” Naoya’s laughs echo throughout the foyer as he notices how brothered Toji is and at how bad he is at hiding that fact.

Toji closes his bedroom door leaning against the door, frustration coursing through his body. Had you really agreed to go on a date with Naoya of all people. He recalls the conversation he had with you three nights ago in the car. He should feel a sense of relief that you're going out with someone closer to you in age, not jealousy.

He drops on his bed, your face flashing before his eyes when you hook your arm with him and smile at him. Would you be giving Naoya the same smile? Would you give Naoya the same teasing touches, or cheesy pick up lines? Toji would like to think that those were reserved for him.

He picks up his phone, and as if by instinct he clicks on your contact, calling you. The phone rings three times before you pick up, “Hello?” You sound a bit out of breath which makes Toji wonder what you were up to.

He doesn’t even think about his words as he blurts them out, “I heard you have a date with Naoya. Is it true?” Toji can almost see a smile spreading across your face at how frustrated and jealous he sounds.

“Yeah, I do. Why do you care, I thought you’d feel happy that I’m dating someone closer to my age. You sound jealous,” you whisper the last bit seductively, which makes Toji’s brain short circuit for a moment.

“I’m not jealous. If anything I’m worried that you're going out with Naoya of all people.” He drops back onto his bed, the back of his hand pressing over his eyes, listening to you laugh through the phone.

“Well like I said there aren’t many dating options,” you pause for a bit, “and Naoya asked.” Toji can just imagine sitting on your bed as you talk to him, legs probably tucked in underneath you and looking off into the distance.

“Didn’t mean you had to agree to it.”

“Again there aren’t many dating options and he asked. Plus he isn’t that bad...to look at,” you laugh. The sound of it making a smile spread across Toji’s face.

The smile disappears from his face when he asks you, “So are you going to start dating?”

He can hear you humming from the other end while you consider your reply, “I think I might, I’ll see how my date with Naoya goes.”

“So if it goes well will you start going out with Naoya?” He can hear you laughing hard from your end, so loud that he has to pull his phone away from his ear.

“Don’t make me laugh,” you try to control your breathing before speaking again,” I don’t think I could ever date Naoya. If the date goes well I might go on a second date with him, but Naoya isn’t the settling type. Going on dates doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll end up dating, so I don’t know maybe after a while I’ll actually date someone.”

“So you're basically going to use him as your fill in boyfriend.”

“Hey don’t judge me. Don’t you think it’s better if I use him rather than get used by him. We all know how Naoya is.”

“I guess you have a point.”

“Well I have to go, I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight Toji,”

“Goodnight y/n.” The line goes dead afterwards, and Toji is left alone with his thoughts and confusing feelings.

You’re dressed casually when you walk out the front steps of your home, a pair of jeans, an old t-shirt you stole from your sister’s closet that you cut into a crop top, your hair up in a ponytail, and your favorite pair of custom designed shoes. You’re met with the sight of Naoya in his own casual, slightly more dressed up, attire, something you're not used to. When he told you was talking you out to a place in the mall you didn’t find a reason to get dressed up. “Well don’t you look nice for our date,” he says sarcastically.

“You act as if you are taking me somewhere nice and not to the mall.” You get into the car, him closing the door behind you and walking around to get into the driver's side of the black Lamborghini he's driving today. “Did you get a new car?”

“Yeah why do you like it?” he smiles at you, pulling out of the circular driveway and down the small road that leads up to the mansion.

“Not really, I’m not into luxury cars, I prefer my Genesis, Kia, and Jeep to driving something like this. “

“Of course you do, isn’t your family known for buying affordable vehicles?” He laughs as he weaves through the traffic, his words aren’t meant to degrade you and the humble way your parents raised you despite having money. It was true, even though most of the cars in the garage were brand new, they were cars that most middle class workers could afford, and high society didn’t understand why with the amount of money your family had you would buy something so...cheap.”

“Not a great way to start out a date by making fun of what I drive.” You tease him leaning against the door. Looking out the window as cars and buildings drive past the car. The rest of the car ride is spent in silence as he weaves through the traffic, his music playing softly in the car. You can feel yourself dozing off, the sudden left turn he takes jolting you from your sluggish state, your head banging against the window. “Naoya! What the hell?” You glare at him rubbing the side of your head as he covers his laugh with the back of his hand.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” He’s eyes twinkle with amusement causing you to not believe him completely. “Anyways we’re here.”

You look out the window in awe as you drive on a small paved road, there’s fields filled with flowers. Naoya parks the car in a parking area, getting out the car to open your door. When you step out you see that there’s picnic areas spread across the area in the center of the fields. The flower aroma hits your nose and you can feel your body relax. “Wow, this place is beautiful.”

“I know right, perfect first date material.” Naoya reaches behind your seat pulling out a blanket and picnic basket.

“I’m guessing you bring girls you're trying to woo here often,” you state not meaning anything by it.

“Only the really pretty ones.” He smiles at you, walking out in front of you. Your face starts to burn at his comment.

Naoya finds an area near the flowers where he sets up the blanket and puts down the basket. You take a seat next to him, watching as he takes out a couple of dishes filled with fruits and veggies. He pulls out two glass plates and glasses, reaching one last time into the basket to pull out sandwiches and strawberry sodas. “You still like strawberry flavored things, right?”

You nod your head grabbing one from his hand and pouring it into a glass. “You know if it weren’t with you this would be the perfect date.”

He takes a sip from his own glass, looking ahead at the people taking pictures with the flowers, “You mean if I were Toji this would be the perfect date.” He sets his drink down, turning to look at you. “I’m sorry for what I said the other day. I shouldn’t have said it, but I don’t think it’s healthy for you to keep waiting for something that might not happen.”

You stare ahead of you, your heart aching,”No you were right, I’ll never be her. And I know.”

It’s the last thing you say before a girl with red hair pours water over Naoya’s head, some of it splashing onto you. “Your a fucking liar!” You stare in shock at Naoya who slowly turns his head towards the girl. He doesn’t seem to recognize her at first, but you can tell that her face becomes familiar slowly.

“Rina, w-what are you doing here?” Naoya stands up, towering over the girl, water dripping down his hair.

Rina crosses her arms, “I wanted to show my friends this place. I kept bragging to them about this place after you brought me here, but now I see I’m not the only one you bring here.” Rina side eyes you.

Naoya scratches the back of his head, “Look I never said I was exclusive with you, so I don’t know why you're angry.”

You watch the girl's face fall and as her eyes become watery. She bends down, taking your soda and throwing the liquid at Naoya before screaming, “You asshole!” You burst out laughing as she walks away, disappearing into the crowd of onlookers. As you watch her go something in you clicks, and the aching in your chest seizes.

“That was really smooth. I thought you said you only brought pretty girls here.” You stand up, reaching into the basket you bought and pulling out some towels to help him dry himself off.

“It’s not my fault I only date pretty women.”

You shake your head, “I think we better go.”

“Okay, but we have to stop at my place so I can change first.” Naoya starts to pick up the barely touched food.

Sitting back down on the wet blanket you start to help, “That’s okay.”

Toji is walking out of the Zenin Estate as Naoya drives up the driveway, you watch him stop next to his car, and you feel a rush of blood pumping through your heart. Naoya parks his car right behind Toji’s, killing the engine. The two of you get out and walk towards Toji, who eyes Naoya’s wet shirt that’s stained pink. “What did you do that pissed y/n off?”

“I didn’t do anything to our precious y/n.”

You greet Toji with a smile, “He didn’t piss me off, but there is a girl somewhere bawling her eyes out because of him.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Toji returns your smile, leaning against the tail of his car.

“I’m going to change. I don’t think you’ll mind keeping y/n some company while I do, so that I can drop her off after.” Naoya pulls his shirt off his sticky body.

“I’ll drop her off,” Toji offers.

From the corner of your eye you see Naoya smile, “I don’t want to bother you. It looks like you're going somewhere.”

“It’s not a problem.”

Naoya turns towards you, his smile spreading wider across his face, “I guess our date ends here. I hope you had a great time and that you text me for a second one.”

Eye him up and down once, you turn on your heels heading for Toji’s passenger side, “Yeah, don’t stay up waiting for that text.” You tease, “I don’t want to end up like that poor girl.”

You can hear both men laughing as you open the door and climb into the seat. Toji opens the drivers side climbing in soon after. You can see Naoya taking off his shirt and entering the house from the passenger side mirror.

The car ride was silent as Toji drove through the neighborhoods, heading towards your house. He’s the first to break the silence, “So how was your date with Naoya?”

“It was okay. It helped me figure some things out.” You keep your eyes straight ahead.

“Like what?” He asks.

“That I need to move on before I get hurt. That if you actually ever actually gave us a chance and it didn’t work out, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You can see the gate for your house as the car pulls onto your street. “I want you to keep being a part of my life, I don’t want to ruin that.” Your house comes into view, “So I’ve decided to take your advice and date people close to my age and to focus on myself.” Toji parks the car in front of the entrance to your house. You turn and smile at him one last time, “I’ll see you around Toji.” You open the passenger door, giving Toji a small wave as you walk into your house.

Toji watches as you disappear behind the closing doors. An empty feeling washing over him at the realization that he would no longer be on the receiving end of you flirting. It also dawns on him that even after his loss he can still feel the burning in his heart that he once had felt with his wife. And it gives him hope that maybe one day he’ll find someone who can fill the empty space the death of his wife left, though it might not be with you.

#toji zenin #toji jujutsu kaisen #toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #dilf toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji

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thoushallnotfall · 3 years

Text

God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 14

Previous // Masterlist

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Notes: *shows up 3 months late with a bottle of Jake* So...what's up?

So so so so SO sorry I just dropped of the planet there for months my guys; I swear I've had the first part of this started since like, the beginning of November, and it's just been sitting in my drafts collecting dust.

I went and reread the whole fic in prep for writing this and it was actually really fun? Like, I forgot everything the MC has gone through. (god what a rollercoaster) She and the boys have really been through it huh? They've grown so much; my babies. 🥺 I have felt so bad that this has just been sitting here unfinished; I never wanted to abandon it, and I am determined to finish this even if it kills me! I love this story so much, I have to see it through to the end.

This chapter has a lot of conversations without having dialogue which normally bugs me but it's already such a long chapter and I'm tired. Also, it's purely cheese and fluffy good feelings because I feel like we deserve that don't we? (And I mean y'all have been waiting forever; you deserve something nice.)

Warnings: None

1993

After Heather had kicked him out, Tommy moved into your guest room. He promised it wouldn’t be for long–a few weeks, maybe a month–and then he'd be out. You told him from the beginning he could stay as long as he wanted, but you knew he was ashamed of his current situation. He wanted to get a new house as soon as possible so he could pretend everything was fine. It wasn’t, of course; but the thought of you or anyone else pitying him absolutely killed Tommy, and you knew it.

Tommy was completely broken up about his divorce, and as much as he may be embarrassed about having to crash at someone else’s house, you could tell he also craved the company. If you were both home together–and you usually were–you began to notice Tommy gravitating to whatever part of the house you were in. Even if he was doing his own thing, he just wanted to be around you. You knew he didn’t want to be alone–alone with this thoughts, his feelings; thinking about why he was alone and replaying it all in his head. That’s why you were so insistent that he could stay; you didn’t want him to have to go through this alone.

At first he was adamant about finding a place as soon as possible, but after the first couple weeks he went out looking at houses less. Then, after another few weeks he just stopped looking altogether. You didn’t bring it up–knowing any mention of it would force him to start his search up again, even if that’s not really what he wanted–and the two of you silently acknowledged he would be staying for awhile, which is what you’d wanted from the start.

You knew Tommy enjoyed living with you, and even though it had been over a decade since the two of you had shared a space, you fell back into it with ease. Your house was much bigger than the shabby little apartment you once cohabitated in with the others, but with Tommy always trying to be in your orbit it felt just as close.

You made a point to try and hang out with him even more than usual; which was easy with him living with you. You would have Nikki and Mick over and the four of you would hang out–the sobriety of the Dr. Feelgood tour was back as the boys worked on their next album, but it was always a good time when you all got together, even without the booze. Then, there were the nights the two of you spend alone. Usually, you’d end up watching a movie or playing Nintendo together, simply enjoying each other's company like you always did.

Sometimes you would just hang out and talk; you’d talk about the past and how young and stupid you all had been. Then you’d say you couldn’t believe it’d been 12 years since the two of you had met.

You’d been thinking about that a lot since Tommy moved in–it had been 12 years since you’d met him and the others; 12 years since Motley Crue was formed. You’d think about all the shit you’d done, all the things you regretted, all the moments you’d die to relive. You'd wonder where your life would be now if you and Nikki hadn’t met Tommy that night in the diner.

You didn’t want to know where you'd be right now without him.

Tommy always had such a sweet look on his face when he talked about the past with you. It wasn’t like in rehab; when you had to drudge up the shit from your past that you hated and lay it all out in a row for everyone to see. It was softer than that; a gentle nostalgia about your lives together. Yeah, you did some stupid shit, but you did it together.

And so the days turned to weeks, and those past until Tommy had been living with you for nearly four months. You thought he might go through with leaving after the first month; then he got the divorce papers from Heather, and all the work you’d started to help put him back together was undone in an instant. Your heart ached seeing him so miserable, and you knew no matter how long it took you would help him get through this.

And he did improve, with time, and the longer he was with you the more you began to realize you didn’t want him to leave. You knew one day he would have to move out, but whether for his sake or for yours, you hoped that day wouldn’t come any time soon.

—

December 25th, 1993

You look up at the green suburban home in front of you, with it's festive decorations placed meticulously around the expertly kept lawn, and you felt a sense of panic well up inside you. You knew this would be good for Tommy–and it had sounded like fun at first–but now that you were here you just felt wrong. Like you didn't belong–something that was clearly out of place in a world that was otherwise perfectly organized.

It was an old feeling, one you hadn't experienced in a long, long time; and you wondered why you were suddenly feeling it again now. You had been living in mansions and staying in ritzy hotels for years: suburbia should be nothing to you now. Yet here you were, palms sweating and stomach in knots, feeling like an outcast again for the first time in years.

You thought back to when you were younger; imagining the different world Tommy came from and how you used to think it somehow separated him from you. But now that you were here in person looking up at Tommy's childhood home, you knew it wasn't true–not anymore at least.

You and Tommy may have started out worlds apart, but you grew closer with each day you spent together–every stupid decision, every victory, every mistake, and every heartache along the way–the two of you moved closer and closer with every step you took until you ended up side by side.

He wasn't the sweet, naïve boy you first meet that night 12 years ago, just like you weren't that lonely, jaded girl. You'd both grown and changed–for better and for worse–and you'd done it together. You weren't from two separate worlds now; you'd made your own world, with Nikki, and Mick, and Vince. The five of you carved out a place for yourselves where you could all live together; where you made the rules and no one could judge you.

Maybe that's why you felt so wrong now; you were stepping back into Tommy's old world. This was his life before you–before Motley Crue–and it made you feel like you did when you were a teenager. Before Motley Crue you could never walk into a suburban neighborhood like this without people giving you looks or asking you what your business there was; they might even go so far as to call the cops on you.

But here you were; not a teenager looking to start trouble in suburbia, but an adult, invited for Christmas at your best friend's house–well, his parent's house anyway. Normally, you'd spend Christmas with Nikki and his family, but when Tommy had asked you to come home with him how could you say no? He needed you now, and admittedly when he'd asked you part of you had just really wanted to say yes.

After all, you liked Tommy's parents–the few times you'd met them they'd been so kind to you, always treating you with consideration and warmth, even if you felt like you didn't always deserve it. Then there was the fact that you didn't just invite anyone home with you for the holidays. You knew you were reaching–seeing what you wanted to see–but you were slowly finding it harder and harder to suppress your feelings for Tommy after these months living so close together, and even the little things were starting to look like signs to you.

So when he asked you to come with him all you could think about was how it looked. How this was something couples did: going home to meet the parents over the holidays. It was ridiculous and selfish; you were his best friend, you already knew his parents, it wasn't anything more than Tommy reaching out to you because this was his first Christmas without Heather in nearly seven years and he didn't want to go through it alone.

But still, you couldn't help but wish it was more.

—

You walk up to the house, a pile of presents balanced in your arms. Maybe you had gone a little overboard, but you couldn't help yourself; of course you wanted to get gifts for his parents, how could you not? Tommy looks over at you and laughs.

"Dude, you think you bought enough?" He asks, smirking at you.

"Shut up; you have no room to talk." You say, nodding at his own arms full of presents.

"Yeah, but they're my parents. You didn't have to get them anything." He replies.

"I know, but I wanted to." You say, adjusting the gifts in your arms as you feel your stomach doing somersaults the closer you got to the house.

What if they didn't like the presents? What if they didn't approve of Tommy living with you? What if they wanted him to come home?

You're worries were instantly washed away as soon as you got in the house. Tommy's dad had opened the door for you, and it wasn't even a minute before his mother was on you both; all smiles as she greeted you and told you how happy she was to have you. You could feel your cheeks warm as she doted on you, ushering you in and attempting to take the presents from you. You insist you can carry them, following Tommy into the living room to put them under the tree which was already surrounded by a sea of presents.

"Come on guys, I told you you didn't have to get us anything." Tommy said as he sat down his presents.

"Of course we did; how could we not get you presents on Christmas?" How mom replied, smiling at you both.

"You know your mother Tom; she loves giving presents. Better just to smile and accept them." His dad said, putting his arm around his wife. As you set your own stack of presents down, you saw at least a few presents with your name on them and smiled to yourself. You felt bad that Tommy's parents got you anything, but you couldn't help feeling secretly happy about it too.

"You really didn't have to get me anything." You say quietly.

"We wanted to; we were so happy when Tommy told us you were coming." His mother replied, smiling brightly at you. "Now, why don't we have some lunch? I'm sure you're both hungry from your trip."

She practically pushed the two of you into the dinning room. You sat next to Tommy as his mother dished out a nice, light lunch for all of you. You ate and chatted and any lingering fear about what his parents thought of your current situation was completely dispelled.

"We were so relieved when Tommy told us he was going to be staying with you." His mother says as she looks over at you from across the table. "We knew he'd be alright with you looking after him."

"Aw come on mom, do you have to say things like that?" Tommy groans, clearly embarrassed.

"You're mother's right Tom; with how well she's looked out for you and the band all these years, we couldn't help but feel relieved knowing you were in such good hands." His dad replies.

"Still, you don't have to say it like that." Tommy says, still pouting.

"I hope you've thanked y/n for all she's done for you–you're helping her out aren't you?" His mother asks, raising an eyebrow at her son.

"Ugh, yes mom." Tommy answers, and you can't help but laugh under your breath. You loved watching Tommy interact with his parents; despites being a grown man and an actual rockstar, they still treat him like he's a teenager. Of course, it was all done out of love; but it was still funny.

—

After you spent a little more time talking, the four of you move into the living room to open presents. You hadn't really been quite sure what to get them–you'd never bought anyone's parents presents before, and it's not like you knew them that well–so you tried to play it safe and just buy them practical things, or things Tommy told you they'd like. You got his father some nice tools, some cologne, and a nice watch. You got his mother some books, some nice perfume, and a gold bracelet. They both thanked you profusely, saying of course that you shouldn't have and that the gifts were far too expensive, but you insisted that it was fine. In return they got you a Greek cookbook and a few nice photo albums–both things you had mentioned to Tommy about wanting.

You and Tommy had agreed not to get each other anything this year; neither of you actually needed anything, and if you wanted something either of you could just buy it. Normally you would still have exchanged something, but with Tommy still living with you he was adamant that you not buy him anything; you were already giving him enough by letting him stay with you. You had wanted to protest, but you didn't want to push him either, so you just let it go.

—

You spend more time hanging out with Tommy and his parents, talking and joking and to your joy and amusement looking through photo albums, until it was already time for dinner. You all moved back into the dining room and his mother brought out the large dinner she had been working on. You offered to help, but she wouldn't have it; insisting guests should relax, not helping with the meal.

You did find yourself alone with her after the meal was through. Tommy and his father had gone into the living room, and you stayed behind to help her clean up. She hadn't wanted you to help, but you insisted, and she finally relented. While you were helping her wash dishes, she looked over at you and smiled.

"We are very grateful for how you've looked after Tommy." She says as she hands you a plate to dry.

"Oh, it's no problem; it's actually kind of nice having someone else in the house." You reply sheepishly, playing it off as you dry the plate and put it away.

"Not just these last few months–you've always been such a good friend to Tommy, always looking out for him and helping him. Who knows where he would be now without you." She insists. You feel your face flush as you keep your eyes on your task.

"It's really not that big of a deal–and Tommy's looked out for me too. He's been there for me more than anyone–even more than Nikki at times. I owe him a lot." You reply, glancing over at her. She's smiling warmly at you.

"You care about Tommy very much, don't you?" She made it sound like a statement rather than a question.

"Of course, he's my best friend." You answer. She gives you a knowing look, and you look away again.

"Don't worry; one day he will see what's most important to him." She says, her words were vague but the meaning was obvious to you. You didn't try to deny it; you just kept on drying dishes in silence, Tommy's mother still smiling to herself.

—

You stayed for a little longer until it began to get dark and the two of you decided you'd better leave. His parents gave you both hugs as you left–his mother even giving you a quick kiss on the cheek–before the two of you were back on the road, heading for home.

In the car you listened to the radio and talked about the day. Tommy was grateful you'd come, though he wouldn't say the real reason why. You knew he was ashamed of his divorce even now, and going to his parents without Heather was still hard for him. You didn't mind, and assured him you'd had a good time.

When you get back to LA it's late, but Tommy insists on going to grab some food. You're tired, but agree; somehow hungry even after the large dinner you'd had hours before. Tommy drives pretty far out of the way, and you wonder where he's taking you, until you're on the strip; parked in front of a familiar diner.

"Really Tommy?" You ask with a laugh. "Donny's? You couldn't have stopped at one of the twenty other diners on the way here?"

"Oh come on y/n, you know no one makes pancakes like they do at Donny's." He joked as you two head for the door. You walk in and see the place mostly empty; just a few drunks at the bar, and a young couple over in the corner.

"They're not that great; don't forget I used to work here–I've seen the innerworkings. It's nothing special." You reply, smiling as you take your seat in the once-familiar both, the waitress coming to take your orders soon after.

How many times had you and Nikki come here after shows before you met the others? How many times had the five of you come crawling in drunk after one of Montly Crue's early gigs? How many times had one of them come in to bug you for free food while you were working? You hadn't realized how nostalgic this place was; it had been years since you'd last been here, but it still held so many memories for you and the boys.

You met Tommy in this booth.

"Man, it's crazy how long it's been since we met here, you know?" Tommy was apparently thinking the same thing you were.

"Yeah, hard to believe it's been 12 years." You reply. "We've had a wild ride, huh?"

"Hell yeah we have–you know sometimes I can't believe we actually made it this far." He answers with a smile. "I mean shit; between the five of us I don't know how at least one of us isn't dead or in prison."

"Not for lacking of trying, that's for sure." You joke, and Tommy laughs light-heartedly, before looking back at you quietly. The look in his eyes was one of admiration and affection, and it took you a little off guard.

"You know we never would have made it without you." He says, not a single ounce of sarcasm in his voice. You were taken aback by the sudden sincerity he was showing.

"Oh come on, don't start getting all weird and sentimental on me." You joke, trying to change the tone. You couldn't handle Tommy being like this with you–it was too much of a reminder of what you really wanted your relationship to be, and you didn't want any reason to start feeling false hope. "If all of us hadn't been there together it wouldn't have worked." Tommy shook his head.

"That's not what I mean. You've always been there for us–for me–like no one else has. I don't know how many times you saved me from doing something crazy or stupid, or how many times you forgave me for fucking things up or after I was a total asshole. Even now you're helping me, even when I don't know if I deserve it." He looked down, and you felt your heart ache for him. You reach out and grab his hand that was resting on the table, and he looks over at you.

"Oh Tommy, of course you do. Just because you made a mistake doesn't mean you don't deserve help." You squeeze his hand in yours gently. "I'm your best friend Tommy, even if I don't agree with what you did of course I'm still going to help you–no matter what." Tommy was quiet for a while, and before you had the chance to think of something to break the silence, the waitress brought your food over. You quickly thanked her before looking back at Tommy.

"You know the whole time I was with Heather, I felt like something was missing?" He suddenly says, his voice quiet. You feel your heart nearly stop. "She was my dream girl, the one I'd been waiting for; but it always felt like there was supposed to be something else. Something more. I don't know how to explain it–it just felt off. I thought getting married would be the missing piece, but it wasn't." He sighed, looking down at his food. You stayed still, eyes wide as you looked at him silently. In all these months he hadn't brought up his relationship with Heather once, and you didn't want to interrupt his one chance to let it all out.

"I loved Heather, but I cheated on her anyway because I thought maybe that would fill that missing part of me, but it didn't. I was just an asshole who cheated on his wife. I can't even say I'm surprised I got caught; I'm more surprised it didn't happen sooner. When she left me I was a wreck–I thought I'd fucked up the one good thing I had going for me." He looked up at you. "But now, I think I'm finally realizing maybe it was for the best; like maybe I felt like something was missing because Heather just wasn't the one, you know?" You stare back at him, unsure of what to say. He was saying everything you'd always wanted to hear, but you didn't want to make this about your feelings. And really, what could you even say after that?

"Sorry dude, I brought the whole mood down, huh?" He says at last, breaking the silence with a small laugh. "Just forget it; we should eat before our food gets cold."

The two of you eat in silence, unsure of what to say after that. You wanted to be supportive, to tell him that he was right and that he would find love again, but you were still reeling from the sudden revelation you just couldn't bring yourself to say it. You wanted to be a good friend like you always had been, by being supportive; but how could you support him finding a new love when it was so against your own feelings?

You wanted him to be happy, but now more than ever that selfish voice inside you screamed that you wanted him to be happy with you.

—

You mostly ate in silence until Tommy changed the subject and you were both back to reminiscing again. You were calmed down and mostly feeling yourself again by the time the food was finished, when Tommy looked over at you.

"Oh right! I almost forgot there's something I want to give you." He says, moving to grab his discarded jacked off the seat of the booth.

"What? I thought you said no Christmas gifts." You say, a little dismayed. "I didn't get you anything because you seemed so serious about it." He laughs as he pats the jacket pockets down, looking for something.

"I know I know, but I only said that because you've already done so much for me. If you feel bad about it being a Christmas present, maybe you can think of it as a 'thanks for taking my sorry ass in' present instead." He says as he pulls out a small black box. Your heart skips a beat as he hands it to you.

It's not a ring, obviously it's not a ring–stop being ridiculous.

You pull back the hinged lid and see a beautiful diamond necklace sitting on the black velvet lining.

"Oh Tommy, you really didn't have to–"

"I know, but I wanted to." He replies, smiling at you. "Here, let me help you." He grabs the box from your hand as he stands, moving over to sit next to you in the booth. You feel your heart racing as you turn your back to him, pulling your hair to the side as he slides the necklace around your neck. You have to stop yourself from shivering as his fingers brush against the back of your neck, quickly hooking the clasp together. You turn back around to face him, looking down at the necklace before looking up at him. He's still sitting so close you have to crane your neck to see his face.

"It's beautiful Tommy, thank you." You say, smiling up at him. You expect him to move back to his seat, or at least scoot back a little, but he just stays where he is, staring down at you. You stare back, afraid to move as you feel your face flush with heat; your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you're sure he must be able to hear it.

Before you know what's happening, Tommy moves one hand up, cupping your cheek as he leans down and kisses you.

#tommy lee x reader #the dirt!tommy lee x reader #mgk!tommy lee x reader #the dirt x reader #the dirt #Tommy Lee

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writer-ish · 3 years

Note

I miss your writing so much!! 7 or 23 from the otp asks please! Love you sm ❤❤

Hi love!! I think this was for Brooke x Ethan?? And I chose #23. Hope that's okay! 💕💕💕 This takes place somewhere in Book 3 (no discernible timeframe, just a random day somewhere in the middle). Sorry for the delay… yet another thing sitting in my drafts, waiting to see the light of day!

23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

Dr. Brooke Spiers stifles a yawn as she listens to her colleague, Dr. Tobias Carrick, go over the established care plan with their third patient of the morning.

It's not that Mr. McCormack's care plan is particularly boring, or that Dr. Carrick is bad at explaining things in charismatic yet simplistic ways, but simply that she is tired.

Very, very tired.

A nudge at her shoulder breaks her out of her stupor. She glances beside her, then cranes her neck back to meet the eyes of the new person in the room. Icy blue stares back at her, a smirk lurking in the crinkles beside each magnetic pupil, if not on his actual lips.

She gives him a slightly baleful look, tilting her head towards the back of Dr. Carrick's, as he patiently answers a question from the octogenarian patient on the bed, ready to head home shortly.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey adopts a mock serious look and nods once, gravely, narrowing his eyes as he puts on the pretense of listening to Dr. Carrick.

Brooke tries to concentrate as well, ignoring the warmth emanating from the large, alluring man beside her, the scent of him - all starch and familiar, mouth-watering cologne - as she crosses her arms and stifles another yawn.

Dr. Ramsey doesn't move in any perceptible way, but his presence shifts and she glances up at him again. The smirk is back in his eyes and he crosses his arms as well, bicep lightly brushing against her shoulder.

He knows why she is tired.

She stares at him menacingly, forcing his eyes to hers once more. Once they clash, crystal blue with muddy green, she raises an eyebrow.

He meets her raised brow with one of his own, and his gaze sweeps across her face and down, almost caressing her in a knowing, lengthy perusal, before coming back up. She feels her cheeks warm as memories of last night return swiftly and not unwelcomed. Once their eyes meet again, the smile that has been threatening the corners of his eyes breaks free, finally, in the form of a minute tilt of his mouth.

She rolls her eyes, even though she can't help her own return smile as she shakes her head and trains her eyes on Mr. McCormack once more.

She feels his finger briefly caress the back of her hand, then her hip, before disappearing.

The door swings shut behind her.

Dr. Carrick and Mr. McCormack both look up to see Dr. Spiers standing there, alone.

She clears her throat awkwardly.

"Please, continue."

i don't normally tag short lil things like this, but it's been awhile since i last posted and this is basically just my way of letting everyone know i'm actually still alive with the occasional output. let me know if you want to be added or removed!

#otp asks #asks #ask me anything #lsvdw-blog #open heart #ethanbrooke facts #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #i do have more in the works!!#this was just a bit of a warm up #ps this is not 300 words #SHOCKER!

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flightfoot · 4 years

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I'm not someone who watches Miraculous Ladybug but why are there so many Marinette/Damian fics? I keep seeing them when I scroll through Timsteph fics.

OH HELL. You know, I’ve been wondering what Batman-only fans must think of the flood of Marinette/Damian. It’s uh. Yeah it doesn’t make a ton of sense.

See, here’s the thing; there’s a LARGE section of the ML fandom devoted to salt, specifically salt towards one particular episode; Chameleon, where Marinette - the main character - has her seat reassigned during class so she has to sit at the back away from all her friends in order to make way for a returning student who *claims* she has a hearing disability so she can sit in the front row. However, said character, Lila, is a notorious liar, as Marinette, Adrien (the deuteragonist and Marinette’s main Love Interest), and the audience know. Adrien actually offers to go sit in the back instead, but Marinette and Lila both shut down that idea and Marinette stews in the back of the classroom for awhile.

Then at lunch, Lila tells more stories of her fabulous life and gets people to bring a tray of food for her since she claims she hurt her wrist. Marinette tries to tell two of her other friends that Lila’s a liar and a fake, but can’t actually produce any evidence to prove it, so she throws a napkin at Lila to try to prove she’s faking her injury... which Lila then catches, but pretends to have hurt her arm. Her other classmates scold her for throwing a napkin at Lila and causing her to hurt herself, Marinette storms off, and Lila corners her in the bathroom and threatens to turn all her friends against her and stop her from ever getting close to Adrien unless she sides with her.

Adrien actually catches up with Lila soon after that and asks her to please stop lying, that she doesn’t need to do that and she’ll only turn their classmates against her, and offers to help listen if something’s bothering her. He doesn’t realize that Lila’s targeting Marinette, or that she’s actively malicious in general, just thinking that she’s lonely and is lying to try and make friends.

Lila brushes him off and purposely seeks out an akuma to get herself akumatized, turns into a villain, tries to defeat Ladybug and Chat Noir, the usual jazz.

Anyway, at the end after defeating her, when Marinette’s about to try to publicly call Lila out for switching up which ear Lila has Tinnitus in, Adrien asks her whether she thinks exposing her will actually help anything, and that humiliating her will make her hurt more, and making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy.

So Marinette decides not to do that, and when they go back to the classroom, Adrien goes to the back and sits next to Marinette of his own accord. Then the whole class decides that they liked the old seating arrangement better, and everyone goes back to their old seats and Lila’s left sitting by herself in the back (she’d claimed her tinnitus magically got better, so she didn’t need to sit in the front anymore.)

Salters took that episode and RAN with it, writing fic after fic of epic revenge fantasies that WAY ramped up how bad any of the characters could POSSIBLY be, making the class force her to do commission after commission for them for free, never showing her proper appreciation for all she does for them, and when Lila shows up and starts manipulating people, have the class scorn and shun Marinette for being an awful person, rip up her stuff, and beat her up, often with her (former) best friend Alya leading the charge, and Adrien just standing and the background telling her to take it.

A lot of people writing these hate Adrien’s guts, having decided that he’s a sexual harasser/assaulter/potential rapist, and wanted to ship her with other people - her second canon Love Interest, Luka, and the scrapped first draft for her partner from the original concept for ML, Felix, at the top of the list.

Felix, notably, was generally perceived as being cold, aloof, and no-nonsense, but with a heart of gold. So he was sometimes used to inflict punishment on everyone the salters hated, plus Marinette could be one of the few people to slip past his cold exterior and become someone he cared for.

Then Felix was gonna be made canon. And someone new was needed to fill that role.

One tumblr user wrote a story where the polite, yet aloof, young man Damien hears a girl screaming in trouble, sees Marinette in Gotham, and instantly falls in love with his Angel, and she ends up staying in Gotham instead of with all the horrible, horrible Everyone Else In Her Life.

Yeah, Damian wasn’t remotely in-character in those early fics at least. His name was often misspelled with an “e”, actually.

But anyway. A few advantages to this; Damian can be made to be super sweet and a perfect gentleman around Marinette, who can instantly see all the worth that everyone else in her life threw away, and as a bonus, can reap revenge on her classmates who tried to beat her up/destroy her notebook/poison her/whatever the fic writer came up with, since Damian might feasibly be willing to inflict cruel punishment on them (not that being in-character has ever been valued much in these fics), plus Marinette gets the entire Batfamily to dote on her and be her new family and be totally removed from everyone the author doesn’t like, which tends to be most of the ML cast. Except for her canonical bully who made her life miserable both before and during the actual series, Chloe; she’ll often become Marinette’s new best friend. Though I don’t think that’s as common with the crossover.

It mixed up the Chameleon salt formula, which I think even the salters had gotten a little tired of (though it’s still going strong), and gave possibilities for a lot more different character interactions, and just generally breathed new life into it.

At this point it’s kinda become its own thing, and some people are actually stepping away form the salt and bashing that birthed the pairing and just shoving her in with the Batfamily generally, because... honestly I suspect there’s some wish fulfillment going on there. And people seem to have a slightly better idea of how the Batfamily works now? Maybe? From what I’ve seen, I think people may have at least STARTED doing some research.

Anyway, yeah. They’re basically a separate fandom at this point, pretty much just devoted to like. That one episode of ML, the first episode of season 3, that released over a year and a half ago.

But uh. Yeaaaah, don’t judge ML by what you see in those crossover fics. Their relation with canon, especially canon characterization, is tenuous at best.

As you might be able to tell, I don’t ship it. I also hate the OOCness, but actually like the potential for the crossover, and wrote my own ML X Batman crossover fic, “We’re The Same”, that was sticking with the canon ships, characterization, and overall just dropping the two franchises into each other in a more canon compliant way to see what would shake out. Especially since dammit, ADRIEN AND DAMIAN WOULD BE FRIENDS.

#antimaribat #ask #So that turned into a rant

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ladyemberswrites · 4 years

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[Oh boy, OH BOY! Like some people are going to hate me for this, but here it goes!]

Author's Notes: Okay, so like I've had this in my drafts for awhile now. So, this is like a very, very rough draft of a Gargoyles Human Au I was working on, but then I ended up changing a whole bunch of things as I went along, so this is pretty much a scraped draft, drabble sort of thing, though I will probably end up keeping many of the main elements in the final product. So, yeah-

!Warnings! [ Adultery/Cheating/References to Toxic and Unhealthy relationships/Age Difference/Age Gaps]

● If any of this isn't your cup of tea this isn't for you!]

Summary: "Elisa?" She hated the way he said her name. He said it so delicately, so soft as if he feared it might break on his tongue. She hated that she loved how he spoke it "Elisa". It made her feel wanted, feel desired, feel protected with just an utterance of her name. And that's where the problem lay.

Why she can't look him in the eyes, but she does so anyways to catch his tired, obsidian eyes.

"We need to talk." She blurts and she can see him physically wince the moment the sentence leaves her lips.

"I know"

It was long after midnight, but of course, New York isn’t called the city that doesn’t sleep for anything.

But, the point was moot.

For the first time, she hated the noise of the city that she called home. The lights too bright, the sounds, the smells of greasy street vendor food made her want to vomit. She just wanted everything to shut up and give her some peace. She wanted to wallow but she had work in the morning so getting drunk like any sane person would have was out of the question.

And the thought of sitting around any longer in the silence of her dark, cramped, shitty apartment made her want to rip her own hair out and scream.

So, where does that leave her?

Not much of choice, no, not really she has a choice, a choice that needed to be made no matter how much she didn’t want to do it. She can be a coward and run, but her mama didn’t raise cowards. She’s no coward even though at this point and time she wanted to be.

To go run and hide away from the big scary world.

The 23rd precinct came into view and her dread only intensified. No one was there which only worsen the feelings even though the building being entirely vacant is a blessing. No one to hear, no prying eyes nor ears. Yet, that didn’t lessen the fear; her heart felt like a rock sitting inside her chest and every exhale and inhale of her breath burned as if her lungs were drawing smoke and brimstone.

The scent of roasted Ethiopian coffee wafts under her nose and it warms her, almost comforting her as she turns the corner and finds the only light in the dark beckoning her. Her feet kept going, they wanted to stop and turn around and run until her feet bleed.

But, she can't. She had to do this, she had to, not just for herself, but for them and too selfishly appease her own guilt that's been gnawing away at her consciousness every waking moment.

The rap of her knuckles across the worn wood sounded like a death toll in her ears. In a way it was.

"Captain Wyvern." Her voice wavered, she sounded so damn mousey and timid, but the door and rumble of his deep baritone made her feel so small and tiny.

"Come in." She didn't notice the tremble of her fingers until she struggled to turn the knob of his office door, she stopped and swallowed, her throat feeling raw and scratchy. Inhaling, she finally finds the courage to open it and meet Goliath's boring stare.

The dark circles of his eyes were hard to ignore nor the fading blemish that stained his dark skin a nasty shade of blue and black. She recoiled at the sight, darting her eyes away to peer at the floor.

"Elisa?" She hated the way he said her name. He said it so delicately, so soft as if he feared it might break on his tongue. She hated that she loved how he spoke it "Elisa". It made her feel wanted, feel desired, feel protected with just an utterance of her name. And that's where the problem lay.

Why she can't look him in the eyes, but she does so anyway to catch his tired, obsidian eyes.

"We need to talk." She blurts and she can see him physically wince the moment the sentence leaves her lips.

"I know" she steps closer, her eyes briefly scanning the mess of his desk scattered files and unfinished documents laid about, a whole pack of cigarettes burnt to their very buds sizzles in the mini ashtray she bought him as a last-minute birthday present. Her eyes lifted to meet his scrutinizing gaze and hated that too, that inhuman inquisitiveness his eyes give off, watching her every movement like that of an apex predator.

"I want to transfer" the words tasted bitter on her tongue, heavy as they were she had managed without tripping over her them in haste. Goliath looked at her like she had just punched a hole through his gut and suddenly that bruise on his face didn't sting so much.

"What?"

"I-want to transfer"

"Why-" as if he didn’t know.

"I overheard you arguing with your wife about me the other night." His face fell blank "Captain-Goliath you know why I can't stay here. You know that I can't." Dammit, she hissed she fumbles with her oversized police bomber and rubs her watering eyes. She hears a creak of his mobile chair and the soft pad of shoes hitting the floor and suddenly he's towering over her.

"Elisa, you belong here" of course she did, didn't she? But, the matter isn't about her sense of belonging, it's about what is right and what is wrong. And she can't stay no matter how much she didn't want to leave, she can't because she knows she won't be able to control herself.

"You're making this harder than it has to be" she mumbles exhausted and emotionally worn "I have to go"

"The problems between me and my wife have nothing to do with you" he's trying to placate her, to affirm what she has so unsuccessfully tried to do for months on end.

"It has everything to do with it me!" She snapped pulling away from his warmth "how can you say that!? I kissed you! And before that, I confessed to you drunk off my ass!" She shouted as she had to hammer those facts into his thick skull because he wanted to ignore the blatantly obvious. To put behind them and pretend that night didn’t exist at all.

You're a married man dammit!" God, she can only imagine what it would've sounded like if the 23 precinct was packed airing her dirty laundry for all to hear without a care in the world. Even in the quiet of the empty halls, she felt beyond mortified.

Goliath watched her almost apathetically mingled with what she had come to know as his " unable to process anything" look.

Whatever torrent of emotions were stirring through him she hadn't the faintest idea. Her captain was known for having a rather volcanic temper, but she had never, ever had him lash out at her, raise his voice yes, but never unadulterated anger. Right now, she wished he would get angry, lash out at her, throw something, flip the desk and let all its contents crash upon the floor. It'd make things easier for her, easier to pack her things and leave and never look back. And not cling to him like a lovesick puppy.

But he doesn't.

He runs a hand through his long mane smoothing it back for a lack of anything better to do or say.

"I need coffee." he mutters. For Goliath its code for "I need a minute to think".

He wanders out his office lost and leaves her behind struggling to keep her dwindling mental state from going straight to utter hell.

The silent tears do the opposite of what she's supposed to do, to keep a level head, but they come anyway, pouring down her cheeks in pathetic, wet globs. By the time he returns with two mugs of piping hot coffee her eyes are red and scratchy and he looks worse than when he left. Still stolid, still uncomfortably rigid as if he's standing trial.

She takes it and sips at it, just the right amount of sweetness she liked because of course, he knew exactly how she wanted it. Because he's attentive and she comes to hate him for that.

"Goliath?"

"Yes."

"Was she right? About what Demona said about you being infatuated me? About having a thing for me?" His chair squeaked, deafening in the silence.

"I-" her brows scrunch "you kissed me back that night. It was brief, but I noticed"

"...Yes…" he confesses and her fingers squeeze her mug so tight she feared it might break.

Brooklyn came in like a whirlwind, slamming the glass door of his office behind him it resounded like a thunderclap. Goliath glanced up from his documents, his prescription glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose.

"What the hell did you do!?"

"Pardon?"

"You're transferring Elisa!?"

He looks away from Brooklyn's accusatory gaze "Yes…"

"Why!?" He slams both hands on his desk "Elisa's a damn good cop and you know it! Just what the everloving hell did she do to make you want to transfer her!" Goliath hardly faltered under his younger brother's fury, he remained passive and unnerved.

"I thought you liked her"

"I do." He murmured, but Brooklyn took note of something, the perks of living with each other so closely for so long.

"But, I'm betting a little much, huh?" His tone was far from sarcastic his voice instead dripped with condescension, if not disgust.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Is that what you're doing!? Huh, covering your own ass because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants!? Never thought you'd stoop so low-"

"Enough!" He barked detesting the very insinuation that he'd kick Elisa to curb, that he'd use her to only abandon her for mere lust made him sick. As understanding he is of his brother's upset; he refuses to be accused of such a low, foul deed. Like a scolded puppy Brooklyn reels away with wide eyes.

"I know you're upset but I will not stand here and let you accuse me of something I did not do."

His gaze sharpened "This is not a decision I make lightly, but it has to be done."

"But, why!?"

"Enough, Brooklyn. You do not need to know the specifics only that I'm transferring Elisa to the 22nd precinct. My decision stands and you will accept it all the same."

"Just like that." He snapped his fingers.

"Yes." He says with finality.

"You're not getting away with this…" he hissed before he tapered away, slamming the door the way he had opened it earlier with a thunderous clatter.

As Brooklyn's loud, angry footsteps recede, Goliath resisted the sudden urge to hurl his mug across the room, to watch it crash and hit the floor, to shatter into a thousand little pieces upon the polished wood.

An appropriate metaphor for his current state of mind.

He heard his office door swing open again this time without a deafening noise.

"Always a lively lad" Hudson jeers. Goliath cracks his knuckles scowling at his desk.

"It is not always a good thing" his mentor hummed "Brooklyn lets his emotions run wild without thought or consequences too often."

"Aye, but the sentiment rings familiar" Goliath grimaced "lettin' one's emotions run rampant"

"I wasn't that bad"

Hudson laughed but shook his head "perhaps, but I'm not speakin of that" his mirth falters "it's about you and the lass"

There's no accusation in his voice.

"There is nothing between me and Elisa" as if it needed to be stated.

"If you're going to be carrying on an illicit affair, ye should be sure the walls don't be having eyes and ears" Goliath stiffened.

"I was in my office gettin some shut eye until the yelling woke me up. Nice thing to wake to seeing the two of you gettin' to know each other" Shame curled at the pit of his stomach his eyes left his mentor's questioning gaze.

"I had a serious lapse of judgment"

"I'll bet!" Goliath swallowed. Hudson crossed the room and took a seat.

"I do not know what's coming over me." He rubbed the bridge of his nose ", this isn't like me, Hudson."

"It'd be love I suppose"

"I don't-"

"Don't love the lass?" Hudson lifted a bushy brow "ye sure?" Goliath didn't answer, he didn't want to answer.

"I'm married, Hudson. A married man with a child! How can you say that!? In fact, you of all people should be furious with me!"

"And say 'I thought I taught you better'?"

"Yes!" he slammed the desk “What I did was wrong! I shouldn’t-I shouldn’t-” he ran both hands over his face in utter frustration “I should never have kissed her the way that I did. I shouldn’t be infatuated with her in the first place! Dammit….”

Goliath did not know what lunch with his wife might entail. He considered canceling out of guilt, but his conscience won in the end. He needed to face her, Demona, his angel, and to confess to her how he betrayed her in the worst possible way. He wasn't looking forward to it as he traps through the tables and chairs of her favorite french restaurant.

"Love." She was eerily at ease "you came."

"Of course."

"You are troubled"

"You stormed away last night. I was worried." Demona only let her lips downturn only a millimeter as she dusted her pencil skirt of invisible dust.

"I suppose I let my emotions get the better of me"

"I-before we eat. I must confess something to you"

"Is it about the Maza woman?" her tone dropped. To be fair her momentary jealousy wasn't as intense as it was before. She felt more aggravated by the fact she hadn't noticed earlier, she hates rude surprises. And what did she have to scorn the Maza woman over anyway? She's rich, she's powerful all gained and created by her very own hands. What exactly did she have to prove to her? It's an embarrassing sentiment, but a sentiment all the same.

Goliath nods mutely and Demona speculates that something serious between must have happened and as he spoke-not as nearly serious as she had thought. However, she found it both shocking and utterly amusing that Goliath of all people-it was almost laughable. He was cute; being completely racked with guilt. This Maza woman had certainly worked a number on him without actually intending to do anything at all. Quite impressive.

"I will not excuse my behavior"

"Why didn't you?"

"What?"

"What caused you to stop?"

"You of course!"

"A bit too late for that."

"I-" he swallowed "Y-yes."

"Seems my assumption was correct then?"

"I'm not going to leave you for another woman"

"But, Maza isn't just another woman." She cuts him off "Is she?"

Goliath froze.

"You feel a strong attraction to her more than anything I can garner "

"That isn't-"

"Isn't what? Why are you trying so hard to deny the obvious truth? You want Maza."

"So what!?" Elisa snaps "Do we just bang each others brains out? Then what?! Be consumed by a lifetime of guilt? Or do we just play pretend and spend the rest of our lives shacking up at some moldy, shitty motel acting like we did nothing wrong once the lights come on?"

Her shoulders sag, her voice cracks "Is that the kind of life you want, Goliath? Living out some lie that we know damn well isn't true?" She wiped her eyes with the back of her palm, she was crying again. Dammit!

Before she knew it, she's enveloped in warmth, his large arms and body wrap around her and she's pressed into his chest. Him and the oversized blue police bomber that he had given her to replace the once she lost on her first-night compasses her.

She inhales his scent; the heady smell of burnt oak.

And before she knows it she crumbles, her vision is blurred, everything outside is nothing more than white static in her ears as she wails against his chest.

A childish part of herself wanted to scream and say it wasn't fair, but she knew she can't-couldn't say it out loud.

"No." He finally says "that isn't the life I want for you." He squeezes her tighter, his fingers brushing through her short hair "you're young, so much younger than I am, you have your whole life ahead of you. I cannot keep you here, no matter how much I want you to stay."

It wasn't fair for him either. Forced to stay within a bitter, toxic marriage. But, that wasn't her issue to meddle in.

She sniffed "you're not that old" her tone is watery, heavy with grief, but she tries to lighten her mood.

"I'm old enough to be your father, Elisa." He says dryly with no ounce of humor.

"Yeah," she sniffs "but you're not my dad." She sniffs again "he's been gone for a long time…now.." as if this wasn't depressing enough, she shudders. Goliath holds her closer, letting his head fall upon her head.

#goliath and elisa #golisa #goliath #gargoyles #brooklyn gargoyles #gargoyles hudson #disney's gargoyles #gargoyles tv show

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